mvikas

[nonsensemonkey]

arika.... save your man, please. state of his crib is abysmal.

[igglemouse]

So I guess it is official. I've moved in, I'm pregnant, if that doesn't make things official then what does? There is something missing though, a final piece of the puzzle that prevents the picture from being complete. A ring? Yeah, I guess so, but the thought of him proposing and us being married feels off somehow.

I'd say yes, at least I think so but...any ways, I won't let my mind wander too far down that path and instead focus a little more on whats in front of me and what is on my plate. Chicken and waffles! Sweet sticky syrup paired with the savory of chicken is enough to pull my thoughts away from what might be and focus on where things are.

And right now things are going right into this toilet, over and over and over again. This whole first trimester thing has not been fun, not that I was expecting it to be but this little restroom has become a little too familiar for me.

Still, there is an undercurrent of excitement that is hard to ignore. I've always planned on being a mother and now its happening! Not how I expected it but things don't always go how we expect, right? I'll just take things one day at a time and try to make this experience go as smooth as possible.

One thing I'll make sure to do a lot more of is taking care of my body, after all, I want to make sure my baby will come out with no complaints, but this is a great excuse for some TLC!

So I head to the Desert Spa and Fitness center, settle into a plush chair, and ask for a pedi and a foot massage. Just letting myself merge into the chair and letting my mind drift a little. I hear being a mother is hard work so I'm going to relax as much as I can before it's officially official.

I had no plans on working out today so I tried to slip through the gym area of the building unnoticed but I don't get far before running into Marjorie. I think she lives here? It sure seems that way. She flags me down at once and it would be rude to ignore her at this point.

"Carrying huh?" She says, her eyes zeroing in on the little bump that is there. "That didn't take long."

"Only takes one," I say, my hand instinctively rubbing my belly, an almost automatic response whenever someone mentions it. It's comforting and a reminder that it won't be too long before my new little family becomes bigger by one. "No working out?" I notice she isn't drenched in sweat.

"Umm, no, actually," she hesitates, glances around some as if to make sure no one else is listening. "I've been crushing on a guy here. I didn't want to start sweating and-"

"He could like it, no?" I say, because some guys might like that? Men have odd fetishes sometimes. A lot of times, actually.

Marjorie pauses to think about it. "Hmmm, you know, you might be on to something..."

The moment I step through the front door I am welcomed to the familiar music of Pascal working out. The hum of the treadmill mixed with the beat of his feet pounding right through it. I can't help but admire the dedication but he truly seems tireless. I wonder if this stamina helps him on the field? I actually haven't really watched him play a game yet, that will change, eventually.

While his passion is working out mines is cooking and with plenty of time in the day it gives me plenty of time to just that. There's just so much to enjoy about it and there is a rhythm to it as well. The chopping, the stirring, the scents that fill the air as it all comes together to make something truly delicious.

Today's focus is pizza but I make a few other side dishes as well. I do need to restock my food stand and although my business has been in a slump I don't plan on letting it slow me down.

And yes my counter is a little dirty at the end but that just means I've been hard at work!

With everything cooked and ready to go I head right to the park and open my stand. It's always a pleasure to place the dishes and see who shows up and I can't help but fill that today I will turn things around. Just a hope. I guess and then I'm ready to fill my stand with everything I've cooked and open it for business!

A foolish hope it turns out. Customers trickle by, glance, and then just keep walking and after standing here for over an hour I'm starting to regret the whole thing. Is this the new normal for me? Yes, I know, that old man has been trying to destroy my little business but it can't all be his fault? Perhaps the food just isn't that good? Quality is quality, right? Again, it doesn't do too well and I'm starting to feel like this is a new normal? I'm starting to have doubts. Maybe my food was never good, after all, quality is quality, and maybe after a few plates people just move on from it?

I don't know, whatever the reason, I can't keep this up. The bright summer sun brings on fatigue and let's remember, I'm pregnant, and it's hard having to monitor a stand when you have to rush to the bathroom as often I do because I had to drink water being out in the sun for so long but it sure wasn't going to sit in my belly for long...

It was time to call it a night for Irene although the idea of sleep for her seemed distant. The eight of the day pressed heavily down on her, forcing her to do nothing by lie on her bed and wonder what was next for her?

It wasn't just another job. She couldn't shrug this off and move on and start fresh. No, this was more, this was a career she was fired from, her passion, and it hurt more because she couldn't figure out the why of it.

She replayed the event in her mind knowing now the mistake of trusting Martin. She had been so excited and full of hope when she revealed her dream to him. How she would start her own restaurant one day, and idea she discussed with a friend, Frida Varela, that one name at once souring his mood.

At that moment Martin crushed her dream and did it with a smirk. He enjoyed it, she realized now, laughing at how he had to fire her and finding amusement in the whole thing as if it were some joke of his. What made it worse? He offered to hire her back but only as a waitress, adding a wink that oozed with condescension and and disrespect.

Now she was left with nothing. She had loved her job, she had loved being a chef and she was quickly climbing up the line. She could start somewhere else, she was sure there would be other kitchens that might give her a chance but the idea of starting over seemed distant and she had a feeling that Martin would not give her a good recommendation...

Frida Varela Index ~ Next 6.2

[gallaghersgal]

Sub!Carmy

Carmy got his shit rocked at service so he comes home needing some tlc. He finds you laid up in the bed and you can tell instantly. He desperately needs you to take control and take care of him. He needs a good release and a goal that can be accomplished. He wants to be good and feel good.

Bonus points if it’s Carmy and Syd coming home to you.

this has been rotting since january so im just gonna drop the little bit of finished work i have. its lowkey not even aligning with the prompt but i tried! so sorry i never got around to fleshing this out 💔💔

they both come home so tired, syd flitting about with that nervous energy boost she gets at the end of every shift, while carmy just heads straight into your arms. he murmurs something sweet as his arms wrap around your middle. 

“hi baby,” you whisper, petting through his messy hair with one hand. “y’gonna shower?”

he nods, groaning and holding you for a second longer before he turned and headed to the shower. sydney continues to hum as she pours herself a glass of wine and taps her fingers on the counter. 

“syd?” you call, breaking her from her trance. 

“hm?” she looks at you with those pretty brown eyes, a gentle smile on her lips. 

you nod towards the bathroom. “carm’s washin’ up. y’gonna join him?” you ask softly, returning her sweet grin. 

she nods, sitting her wine down and passing you with grace. her hand lands so easily on the small of your back, placing a kiss on your cheek, then heading over to the bathroom. 

[operation-steal-chans-laptop]

Hey its me, the changbin anon from earlier,

Presenting to you today, needy! Reader with chan who's just totally amused by how absolutely compliant you're being today but would it really be daddy chris if he doesn't take complete advantage of you being such a good little girl for him and give you the best treatment his little one deserves?

Channie who wasn't really surprised when you popped into the study where he was going over some of the concept details for the new comeback that he got from the company earlier that week, and gladly beckons you over onto his lap( it being established that it was your favourite place to sit, after a a long time of proving you wrong about how you won't crush him under your weight)

Channie who just laughed a little at how adorable you were being when you got onto his lap and straddled him with your arms around his torso, curling up against him like a little kitten and he didn't think anything of it apart from you feeling cuddly since it had been a few hours since dinner and you probably just needed some good old tlc and fall asleep.

Channie who was proven wrong within the next 5 minutes because a little after he went back to work with you in his arms and with one arm rubbing your back to get you sleep, you'd silently started moving your hips slowly and aimlessly, still a bit drowsy from the sleepiness. Your whines against his chest alarmed him for a fraction of a second, when realization hit him almost immediately, and he lets you do your thing, letting you rile yourself up on your own till you actually ask him like he's taught you to use your words for him, you're a good girl anyway aren't you?

Channie who grabs hold of your cheek in his left palm and caresses across it while you rest your face in his big palm, doe eyes looking up at him with pleas shooting out of them, but you both know he won't do anything at all until you ask him, no matter how frustated and horny you are.

Channie who almost loses all control when a small "daddy.." leaves your lips. But he has to maintain his composure to ask you back "yes princess? What is it?"

Channie who coos at you when your voice is so tiny that he almost misses you when you say "want you daddy..." but all he does is ask you to work yourself for it a little bit more, you can grind on his lap for a few more minutes till he just finishes off with a concept details and then he'll give you what you want.

Channie who's so proud of his clingy little baby who's riling herself up more for him for he can feel her getting wetter against the tent in his own basketball shorts, and decides its time he gives you a reward for being so obedient, and shifts you onto his right thigh, like you weigh nothing, and the way your eyes widen gives it away how much you like it.

Chris who makes you look into his eyes and tells you how good you've been for him but,

"Daddy's so tired today baby, he's been working so hard. Why don't you use his thigh for yourself and give daddy a little show? You know I'll always treat you good later hm? Shirt up babygirl, let me see those tits bounce for me"

"Your tiny hands can't even grab onto me properly baby, make those tits feel good for me baby, daddy won't let you fall okay? Good girl"

~

I'm a monster....

And yeah, erm, 💌 this emote would be great?

Have a good day..

Yes.

I’m actually speechless, like for real. Everything about this is 100% chan!!!!!! The sweetness and the love laced in the with it all???? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH chan is so daddy

Thank you so so so so so so much <3

(please tell me you’re a writer on here)

[carebeartherese]

My live reactions to Loki season two ep 5:

-WOOOO HERE WE GO

-running through the recap

-Im actually scared for this episode srsly

-oooo the almost silent intro

-ALIVE???

-he is angelic fr

-where is everyone???

-did they go back to their timelines??

-Im loving these continued camera shots

-pie room??

-TIME SLIPPING

-oh shit

-:0 double Loki

-hello?

-time slipping is just an excuse for Loki to flip his hair like the hoe he is /pos

-time loop???

-WHAT THE FUCK

-WHY IS EVERYTHING COMING APART

-SHIT

-oop there’s the theme

-prison??

-CASEY?????

-WHAT THE HELL

-oh hes escapin

-where are they i wonder

-a boat prison??

-no not again dude Loki can’t handle this

-ALCATRAZ????

-his name ain’t Frank lmfao

-oh it’s the BOAT PLACE

-dude why are we back in the tva

-:0 SHIT NEW YORK 2012

-Aw b15 is such a great doctor I love her

-MOBIUS WHAT ARE YIU DOING

-living his dream

-who tf is don

-also his son??? No thank you

-LOKI GO SEE YOUR MAN

-this is so unserious

-LOKI IS SO CUTE ABOUT MOBIUS

-Mobius is adorable

-SINGLE DAD???

-FUCK YEA

-ooo 1994

-OB!!!!

-hes so silly

-awww he just wants to sell his books

-hes a writer <333

-in his bunker???

-ITS JUST LIKE HIS LAB

-dude ob will believe anything that happens to him

-the sons of who??

-ob is so adorable with his little “hey”

-dammit

-none of that made sense OB

-cannot control the time slipping

-oooo true

-LOKI = TEMPAD

-to save his friends

-oh yea shit kang is coming aint he

-control it Loki!!!!

-nope

-you look like you’re trying to take a shit

-there is no controlling time

-OB WE DONT SHOCK PEOPLE

-OR WHATEVER THAT WAS

-stop psychoanalizing

-go to the pie room

-GET THE BAND BACK TOGETHER

-oh that’s actually kind of smart

-ob is adorable and I love him and his tism

-oh fuck there he goes

-TO MOBIUS AGAIN!!

-he sucks at taking the trash out

-yea Kevin

-these kids are literally adorable

-don’t burn down the house pls

-“HELLO”

-these guys are so awkward

-just kiss srsly

-WAIT THEY ARE SO CUTE

-HES SUCH A SALESMAN

-wife long gone????

-cause of the gay

-is he flirting??

-are jet skis flirting????

-mobius really thinks lokis crazy

-OB HI

-none of this makes sense

-awww the way he grabbed Mobius

-dude theyre so gay

-they need to just kiss already fr

-yea your kids will be fine mobius I swear

-hes just a suburb dad

-this is a little heartbreaking but also gay tbh

-IKR IT IS A COOL NAME

-B15!!!! Come with!!!!

-CASEY FUCK YEA

-ESCAPE

-where’s sylvie?

-mobius looks shook

-and Casey trusts no one the little thief

-mobius/don is he flirting with Casey/Frank

-I love sylvie but she always gets angry and fucks shit up

-please leave her out of this one

-WAIT WHAT

-HOW DOES SHE KNOW YOU

-wait till it back

-fuck get that time slipping under control

-sylvie with her lesbian fit and her mullet

-ok but Loki loves mobius and doesn’t wanna loose him

-uncaring queen

-I mean she wants to live

-damnnnnn

-WAIT CALL HIM OUT

-WHAT DOES HE WANT

-FALSE

-HE WANTS MOBIUS SRSLY

-oh come on Marvel be more specific

-of course he doesn’t wanna be alone

-don’t make this romantic again pls

-NO WE ARENT

-his story is with mobius tho!!!

-Casey is such a weird ass hardened criminal

-mobius stop trying to sell shit to people

-Loki you are so babygirl

-NO WHAT ABOUT THE GANG

-I don’t understand anything anymore

-is sylvie flirting with record shop guy??????

-THE VELVET UNDERGROUND

-HOLY SHIT

-literally what is happening rn

-whos this guy in the back

-oh he disappeared????

-why’s shit disappearing????

-NOOOO

-THE TIMELINES DECAYING

-OH GOD NO!!!

-NOT HOT RECORD SHOP GUY

-and she’s gone

-so is the timeline

-Loki is so sad and lonely

-MOBIUS KISS HIM PLS

-HE NEEDS TLC

-NOT TRUE

-a timeline just died for some reason

-Loki was just waiting for this opportunity

-CASEY DAMMIT SRSLY

-OH FUCK NO

-WAIT EVERYONE COME BACK

-NO MOBIUS PLEASE

-OH GOD NOT PLEASE NOT KNTO THE DARK

-THIS VERY BAD DREAM

-oh shit Loki use them timeslipping powers

-GO BACK IN TIME

-YOU CAN DO THIS BBG

-ITS ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS

-oh come on dont give me that fuckin cliffhanger

[umbreonmeetsmew]

An Umbreon with strange colored bands runs through a thicket, jumping around and hiding between bushes. Her nose twitches gently, and her ears turn to listen to every slight noise near her. She seems to be following a scent, keeping her head to the ground, focusing on her hunt.

With a confused twitch of her ears, that concentration is broken.

Myu!

The noise catches her attention and she abandons her hunt to follow it. She doesn’t know why, but she feels an attraction in a specific direction, even without trying to find a scent. 

In the tall grass, she eventually finds the source. A destroyed pokemon nest, surrounded by the wreckage of some kind of battle. The mother it belonged to has clearly not been here in some time, and her scent has faded from the area.

The remains of two of the young pokemon, picked apart by decay, are still in the nest. Their species is unidentifiable. The Umbreon huffs sadly, but is quickly distracted.

Myu!!

There’s still something alive here. She roots through the grass a moment, before finding the source. It’s barely the size of her paw, and its eyes are still closed, but the pale blue Mew is unmistakably alive. It calls out again, and the Umbreon can feel the psychic energy that had called her here. She gently grabs its scruff before running back in the direction she came from.

She travels more quickly than usual, despite the precious cargo she’s carrying. A sense of dread has waived over her, considering the fact that something had to have destroyed the Mew nest. On purpose, it seemed, considering the kits had been killed but not eaten. This one must have been exceptionally quiet, or had fortuitously fallen out of the nest before being attacked.

The Umbreon exits the tree line into a yard she seems familiar with. A small house sits at its head. She goes straight for the door flap that leads inside, hoping for her trainer to be home.

“Ah, Victoree, you’re back quicker than usuaaaa—“ The trainer turns to his Pokémon, blinking quickly as he processes the sight before him.

I felt something calling to me, and it led me to a completely destroyed nest…the only thing left alive was this kit. I don’t know when they last ate, and they seem smaller than they should be… The Umbreon speaks psychically. It’s something odd, but her trainer is used to it now.

“I’ve spent years searching for Pokémon like that, you know. And one calls you to it without you even trying while you’re just out hunting! It’s amazing, Victoree.” He laughs heartily, and holds out his hand, “Let’s make sure the poor thing is okay. If it was calling you, and you took it, I imagine its parent wasn’t around.”

Victoree gently places the Mew into her trainer’s hand, almost reluctant to let it go. Its parent was nowhere to be found. Whoever attacked the nest may have taken them after thinking they killed all of the kits. Even the dead ones were significantly bigger than this one.

“Ah, so you think it was a deliberate attack…” He frowns, looking almost sad. “I wonder if they’re trying to recreate the Kanto experiments. It’s a shame to kill such young Pokémon for a purpose like that.”

They must have been…undesirable in some way. Victoree’s ears flatten against her head, and she brings up a paw to touch her right eye, or what used to be her right eye, anyway. She had lost it in a similar poaching attack years ago, before the man who would become her trainer had saved her.

“Hey, I’m all about those ‘undesirables’. I’m a Pokémon rescuer and researcher, after all!” The man gently feels around the tiny Mew’s body, feeling for any injuries or abnormalities. The creature makes distressed noises the whole time, but nothing seems wrong other than its apparent malnutrition and small size, “This little guy is lucky you found them before they got stepped on or eaten! Looks like they just need some extra TLC and they should be just fine.”

Forgive me if I’m wrong Kip, but it sounds like you’re suggesting that I take care of the kit.

“Well, of course I am. It called out to you specifically, so there must be something about you that it likes.” He gently presents the Mew back to Victoree “I’ll handle feeding, but I don’t think I could look after them properly the way another Pokémon could.”

Victoree looks at the kit again for a moment. It starts calling out for her again, and she grabs it gently. I guess it imprinted on me…I don’t have a choice but to play parent, in that case.

“Well, then the little one needs a name.”

I will give it some thought…It is too late to do so tonight. We both need to rest.

[the-original-b]

The Omen of St. Tepes

Format: Prose / Fiction

Word Count: 4,577

Synopsis: College seniors Johnny, Shirley, Claire, Ian, and Luke blow off some steam between exams, but are stalked by an ancient evil.

Luke walked out of the convenience store, a beaming smile on his face as he carried the 24 pack of Keystone Light and pair of four-pound bags of ice from the exit to the back of Johnny’s old Pathfinder. "Open up, Johnny boy!" he extolled. "I've got the goods!"

"Alright, alright," Johnny said, fumbling with the key fob to unlock the lift gate. “Flex your legal purchasing privileges some other time.”

"All in due time, my son." He placed the beer and ice on the floor to open up the trunk and retrieve a cooler which Claire, borrowed, from her parents. "You too may one day be blessed with the gift of being able to buy the cheapest beer on earth." He began filling the cooler with ice and the beer cans.

“It’s all of our money that paid for the beer,” Claire added, “So the beer belongs to all of us. Plus it’s my cooler, so…”

“So, nothing,” Ian added, helping Luke load the packed cooler back into the Pathfinder. “It was my idea.”

“And its my car,” Johnny added, triumphant. “So can we all agree that we can split the credit five ways?”

Shirley shrugged her shoulders, leaning against the passenger seat. “I don’t know, I think you deserve a little more of the credit here.”

Ian considered the point, then nodded. “You know, she’s right…! Cute girl takes your side, you win.”

Shirley began to blush, breaking eye contact and looking off up the road.

Johnny stared daggers at Ian. “Just get in the car, wiseass. You know where we’re heading?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just follow the road for like twenty minutes, it’ll be impossible to miss.”  

The five of them—suite mates Johnny, Luke, and Ian as well as Luke’s girlfriend Claire and the shy girl in Johnny’s classes Shirley—piled into the Pathfinder to head for Ravenwood Memorial Park, where they intended to drink, joke, and share stories around a bonfire on Halloween night. Probably their last before the Innsmouth University Class of 2012 would accept their diplomas and go their separate ways to join the work force, start families, and live their lives.

Johnny hopped in the driver’s seat and fired up the Pathfinder. He plugged his iPod Touch into the aux cable which fed into a cassette adapter to play his passengers’ suggestions through the sound system. Then he put the SUV in drive and pulled out of the parking lot to a dimly lit intersection.

As the car idled at the red light. A shadowy figure spilled out of the tree line and onto the road a few dozen yards from them. A large, dark colored four-legged thing. It briefly stopped in the middle of the road to turn and raise its head to look at the car. Despite the darkness they could see its silhouette resembled a canine, and its eyes seemed to glow an intense, fiery yellow that cut through the black. And there it stayed for a full five seconds before turning back to continue along its path, back into the woods on the other side of the road.

“Did you guys see that?” Johnny finally asked.

“How could we not?” Ian retorted. “It walked right in front of us.”

“Yeah, duh… but what the hell was that? It was way too big to be anything we get out here.”

“How do you even know how big it was, you can barely see anything with those headlights,” Luke teased him from the back seat.

Insincere as he was, Luke had a point: his old jalopy was in dire need of some TLC. Johnny looked over to Shirley in the passenger seat next to him, who stared ahead blankly as the traffic light turned green in front of them. He shrugged, dismissing what he saw, took his foot off the brake pedal, and proceeded up the road.

~~~

As promised, they arrived at the park some twenty minutes later, and after unloading the Pathfinder Ian led them down a cobble stone path, past a few gargoyles, sculptures, and an old shack tucked beside a titanic tree that must have been centuries old. While intriguing in their own rights, that wasn’t what they came here for. After a brief walk, they arrived at their destination: a courtyard clearing with a fire pit and bench seating. They set up shop in the courtyard, Luke opening the cooler and handing cold beer cans out as Ian gathered the materials to start the fire. And there they sat, enjoying each other’s company for hours as they swapped classroom tales, drama, and jokes for hours.

“Anybody got a good Halloween story?” Johnny asked from over the top of his beer can.

“Well, there was that one in Haddonfield,” Ian said with a smirk. “A guy in a Bill Shatner mask knifed a bunch of babysitters.”

“Har har.”

“Let’s see you come up with a better one, then..!” Luke challenged.

“I’ve got one,” Claire offered, putting her beer can down as she straightened up. “You ever hear about the Omen of St. Tepes?”

“The what?”

Claire took a breath to find the best storyteller voice she could muster, and began. “It’s a tale as old as time,” she said. “About lust, jealousy, a promise, and a beast from Hell.”

Ian, Johnny, Luke, and Shirley looked over to her, meeting her eyes past the fire.

“The year was 1692, in the quiet town of St. Tepes, Massachusetts,” she continued. “In this town lived a perfect family. A father, mother, their grown daughter, and teenage son. Everything is going well, as you’d expect, until one fateful morning the archdeacon of the church knocks on their door. The father answers, and receives a warning from the archdeacon about a coven of supposed witches down in Salem. He warns they could be spreading north, and advises him to keep his family safe.” She paused to pick her beer up and slosh it around in the can. “The archdeacon visits again and again, bringing gifts of good will and good spirits to the house—to protect the family, of course. But that’s not why he kept visiting—”

“What,” Luke interposed. “He wanted to get in the son’s pants?”

Johnny chuckled to himself, but stopped when he glanced over to Shirley who remained quiet as she listened to Claire’s story.

“Close,” Claire said, taking from her beer. “It was the daughter.”

“Scandalous...!”

“Some weeks go by,” Claire continued. “Eventually, the archdeacon asks the father for an audience with the daughter. Says it would do her good to speak with him about guarding her spirit. The father—knowing what’s happening in Salem and what could happen to them if he denied his request, grants him the audience.”

Johnny leaned forward, taking genuine interest now.

“It goes about as you’d expect: daughter spurns his affections. Of course. So, the archdeacon accuses her of witchcraft, imprisons her and the whole family.” She took from her can. “…of course.”

“Not really feeling like a Halloween story, more like a historical one.”

“Patience,” Ian said. “Story’s not over.”

“Far from it,” Claire added. She continued while she absentmindedly sloshed her beer around in the can, ignoring the stark cold of the perspiring metal in her fingers. “The night before their trial, and—let’s be honest—their execution, the daughter gets a visitor to her cell. An old man in dark church-looking robes. With dulcet tones and a honey voice he says he can protect her and set her family free. All she needs to do is accept his offer…and she does. As a dutiful daughter who loves her family.”

“She’s got to know there’s some kind of catch here.” Johnny said.

“Maybe,” Claire retorted. “But put yourself in her position—wouldn’t you do anything to save your family from a hanging?” She put her beer can down again. “So anyway, she says ‘yes,’ right? Church-looking visitor thanks her, bids her good evening, then leaves. The following morning,” she continued, as her breath started to form thin cloudy wisps in front of her face, “a few villagers of St. Tepes begin crying wolf. Literally, they say there’s a huge black dog watching them from the top of the hill.”

Luke rolled his eyes and looked away as he finished his beer. He knew where her yarn was going.

“Over the afternoon, more and more villagers bring the matter of this shadowy hound to the archdeacon’s attention. Say that a huge black shape with fiery eyes boring into their very souls is watching them. The archdeacon dismisses them at first, but eventually can’t as every single one of the villagers makes a point to tell him they saw it three distinct times over the course of the day. That night he calls for an emergency mass to address the sightings. The entire village of St. Tepes is in attending.”

“Except the daughter and her family,” Ian suggested.

“Exactly,” Claire confirmed. “So as the villagers are piling into the church, a terrible storm starts brewing, like they’ve never seen. The archdeacon ushers them inside fast and makes his way to the altar to begin the service. And then, just has he begins, the altar bursts into flames, and out from the fire emerges the hound.” She picked her beer back up. “The villagers are hysterical—‘it’s a demon’ they shriek. ‘come up from hell to punish us.’ As they scream, the wolf howls and disappears in another fireball, and the panicking villagers burn to death, trapped in the church as the fire spread and swallowed them all.” She took a sip and put her drink back down. “The fire spread across the entire town and beyond. reaching the farms and even the cells where the daughter and her family were being held.” She blinked and looked up towards the sky. “Of course the daughter and her family were spared the fire, but were wracked with guilt over surviving their entire town burning down. The father and son cut their wrists, the mother poisoned herself, and the daughter lived the rest of her life alone.”

“Right,” Ian said. “The old man said they’d be set free. In death. Pretty effed up story, Claire. More depressing than scary.”

“I might have embellished some things for dramatic effect,” she confessed. “Different versions of the story are floating around, with different endings.”

“So, what,” Johnny said, “the guy who came to the daughter in the church was the Devil or something?”

“Possibly. Probably. But all the variants of that story call what burned the city down a hellhound. An omen that supposedly kills anyone who spots it—”

“What, like the thing we saw on the road?” Luke interjected. “So are we marked for death?” He raised his hands up to head level, imitating a campy television host after telling a cheesy supposed scary story. “Oooooo...!”

“We should be fine, unless we look at it two more times tonight,” she added, tongue-in-cheek. “Anyone who looks into its eyes three times will supposedly die that night. Which tracks, if you think about it. If each  of the townspeople looked at it over the course of the day, the Omen must probably figured it’s be easier to wipe them all out at once.…”

She looked back at her friends when she realized she was trailing off in a tangent, and saw their eyes following something over her shoulder. She turned around to spot it as well—a pair of searing yellow dots a few yards away. In the dark she could see a faint silhouette around it as it moved to their left. She could see it was an animal—a canine moving with its head lowered as it circled them.

Johnny pitched his beer can at the shape, getting up from his seat and yelling at it as he strode toward it. The shadow turned its head from them and trotted away, disappearing out of sight behind a large tree.

He slowed as he approached the tree, then stopped completely before calling his friends over. “Was there a group here before us?”

“Not that I saw, so,” Ian said as he, Claire, Shirley, and Luke walked up to join him.

“Check this out,” he said, gesturing to the side of the tree away from their fire.

Claire’s eyes widened. “It’s smoldering,” she said. “Like a fire was put out…”

Johnny slowly looked back at the others, raising an eyebrow.

Luke shook his head. “No way. No frigging way—you’re really gonna sit there with a straight face and tell me that just happens to be the thing from Claire’s story?”

“We should probably go,” Ian suggested.

“What, you’re scared shitless of a dog? And of a story she just put together on the spot?”

“Look, best-case scenario—it’s a stray dog following us. Worst-case, it’s the devil’s mutt. Either way, it wouldn’t make a ton of sense to stay out here much longer.”

“Guys,” Claire got their attention. “Where’s Shirley?”

Johnny looked around, not spotting her among them. “Aah, shit…” He peered off into the distance, following the trail back up the hill toward the old shack. There’s only direction she could have gone, he figured. “Stay here,” he said before taking off in the direction, “I’ll get her...!”

~~~~

Johnny followed the cobblestone trail, calling out to Shirley as he traced what would certainly have been the path she took away from the rest of the group as their discussion about the ghostly black dog they encountered grew more heated. He pressed on, up the hill and past the old shack and ancient-looking tree they passed on the way to the fire pit. Past where he was sure they’d gotten onto the path in the first place, and beyond.

“Shirley,” he called again, his breath forming thin clouds in front of his mouth. The designer zip-up hoodie he wore did little in chill night. “Shirley...!”

He kept a light jog as he followed the trail deeper into the park, passing sculptures overtaken by nature and more foliage that must have been centuries old. His growing unease pulled him gently in the direction of the group, but his guilt for inviting her out in the first place drove him onward. He pressed onward for what must have felt like ten minutes.

“Shirley!” Eventually he found her curled up on a bench with her knees in her chest, her arms wrapped around her shins and head tucked behind them. Slowly he approached her, tenderness in his voice. “Shirley…”

“We shouldn’t be here,” she said, not looking up at him. “It was a mistake coming out tonight.”

Gingerly, Johnny took a seat on the bench next to her. He reached out toward her, then paused before stretching out his arm fully to wrap her in an embrace and share a little bit of his warmth with her. She leaned into him as he started to talk her down. “Shirley,” he reassured her, “it’s fine. We’re taking some time to relax and blow off some steam before getting back to the grind. One night out isn’t going to kill us,” he added with a smirk. “We’re fine.”

“No..!” she insisted, looking up to look him in the eye. “We’re not…” She turned in her seat to face him fully as Johnny gave her his undivided attention. “You don’t seem to understand how un-fine we are,” she continued, her voice receding to a terrified whisper.

Johnny leaned closer to her, matching her tone. “The wolf?”

Shirley shook her head, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “It’s not a wolf,” she confided.

Johnny recoiled, incredulous. “You don’t actually believe that Hell-hound garbage—”

“Yes!” she insisted. “And you should too!” She took a breath to compose herself before continuing.

Her unyielding stare told Johnny she was serious.

“A mortal soul who would thrice meet its eyes, is marked by fate to perish by sunrise.”

Johnny blinked slowly. He wasn’t scared until she recited the line from Claire’s story, almost poetically. They all looked right at it as it crossed the road in front of the car, and a second time in the courtyard. If the legend was true, looking at it a third time would mean their peril. “So, you know what this thing is?”

“Intimately,” Shirley said. Then she exhaled, shut her eyes, and tilted her head back to look up at the night sky when she opened them again. “She didn’t want for them to die,” she confessed.

“What?”

“The daughter in Claire’s story.” She looked back at him. “And she was visited a second time, after the prison burned down on top of her family.”

Johnny blinked. “How do you know all this, Shirley?”

She quickly scanned the horizon, then stood up. “If we make it back to campus tonight,” she offered. “I’ll tell you everything.”

~~

They re-traced their way back toward the courtyard in total silence, Johnny wrapping his arms around himself and working to keep up with her brisk pace. As he did, the questions continued to bubble up in his mind—how did she know so much about Claire’s story? What else was there that she didn’t tell? How was she not cold? What was that cardigan made of?

Suddenly he became aware of his breath, and the clouds that formed in front of his face and Shirley’s. She slowed down just a little, but enough. Even looking at the back of her head, her ebony hair, he could imagine what her expression must have looked like while she kept her eyes straight ahead. She reached back behind herself with her left hand, fumbling in the air for a bit before it finally found his right and held on tight. Then she picked the pace back up, leading him, and he found it a lot harder to breathe now for some reason. Like the air was denser.

“When I say so,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “You run. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

As he processed her words and made sense of them, his heartbeat started to accelerate. He acutely felt the adrenaline spread to his every limb as he started to turn his head to look over his left shoulder.

“Don’t look,” she said. “Keep your eyes forward.” Her voice started to shake. “Whatever you do, don’t look at it.”

At first, he thought it was his brain playing tricks on him, but he could swear he heard a light scratching noise on the floor a few yards behind them. The sound grew louder in his mind as he realized how similar it sounded to a dog’s claws on stone. As if the thing from Claire’s story was following them.

“Run…” Shirley said, not daring to look behind at him. “Run, now…!”

“Shirley—”

“RUN!!”

Without a second thought, they took off. He ran as fast as he could muster, just like she told him to. As fast as his legs could carry him, he sprinted away from the terrible thing he couldn’t see.

And then he heard it—a blood-chilling howl unlike any he could have imagined. It was a loud, shrill, terrifying call that shattered the night air and echoed with what sounded like the souls of thousands crying out in anguish.

He realized he’d out-paced her. That thing would get to her first.

“Keep running, Johnny!” She called after him. “Don’t look back!”

His mind betrayed his instinct to keep running, to survive. He fought the urge to look back and make sure she was still alive, and as he kept his eyes forward, toward life, he imagined the worst. He anticipated hearing her screams as the thing tore into her. He anticipated feeling the vice grip and searing pain pierce into his flesh as it tore at him from behind. He couldn’t take it anymore; he made the decision to—

His foot caught the edge of a stone. He stumbled forward before falling onto his side, his ankle throbbing.

“Johnny!” In mere moments she caught up to him, throwing herself down on top of him and wrapping her arms tight around his body. She tucked her head beside his neck and shut her eyes tight.

And then it was upon them. The huge, ghostly black hellish hound that had pursued them all night. It circled its prey, snarling madly.

“Don’t look at it, Johnny!” Shirley cried. “Whatever you hear, don’t open your eyes!”

It was so close to them she could feel the heat coming off its body, like a torch held by some tormentor shrouded by the darkness of their closed eyes. Its claws scratched at the cobble stone road around them. A crematorium door opened and shut with its every breath and bark.

And there they lay, anticipating an attack that never came. Despair and terror overwhelmed them.

Then the animal stopped moving. The heat remained inches from Shirley’s shoulder for only a moment. Neither she nor Johnny dared to move when it was so close either one of them could have reached out and touched it.

And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it fled. And in the same instant the heat left them they were instantly aware of the world around them again—the cobble stone path below them, the cold night air…

And their friends’ voices.

“Shirley!” Ian called. His voice grew louder as he got closer. “Johnny!”

“Ian!?” Shirley sat straight, still squeezing her eyes shut and reaching out in front of her. “Claire!?”

“We’re right here,” Claire’s voice just feet from her now. Then she’d felt the familiar warmth of Claire’s hands on her arms, cupping her elbow and helping her back onto her feet.

Finally, Shirley opened her eyes to see the faces of her friends. And she knew she could breathe easily again. “Johnny hurt his ankle,” she said to them. “Help him up.”

Luke and Ian helped Johnny up off the ground. Immediately they noticed his pain.

“My ankle,” he said through clenched teeth. “Twisted it back there…”

Luke looked around for anything he could find to start treating it. “We can probably find something in there,” he said, motioning the old shack next to the giant tree about thirty yards from them.

“That’s perfect,” Claire noted. “Let’s get him inside.”

Ian and Luke each put one of their arms under one of Johnny’s to help him stand and followed Claire to the shack beside the old tree. Shirley trailed behind, but her attention was pulled by a flash of lightning off in the distance which the others didn’t seem to notice. It gave her pause as she recalled a detail from Claire’s story, but eventually she dismissed her thoughts and joined her friends in the shack.

~~

Shirley sat down on a bench beside Johnny as he raised his injured leg. Claire brought over a box for him to rest his ankle on while Luke activated a flashlight app on his smartphone as he checked the corners of the space for anything he could use as a splint. He apologized to them all when he came back with nothing to show for his idea.

“Look, I’m just glad you showed up when you did,” Johnny said. “How’d you find us, anyway.”

“All the noise,” Ian said. “We heard a howl and knew what it was immediately. We came running.” His words were accented by the rolling of distant thunder.

“Perfect timing too,” Luke added. “You two would have been puppy chow if we hadn’t shown up… Fido knew it too. Looked right at us and bolted as soon as it saw the odds were stacked against it.”

Shirley froze. Then, slowly, she stood up and backed away from them all. The others turned to look at her.

“Shirley, you okay?” Ian asked.

The distant thunder grew louder—closer. Panic choked her as the color drained from her face. “What did you just say?” she asked.

Before any of them could answer, they were deafened by the crack of lightning landing just outside the shack’s wall. When her hearing returned, Shirley heard a pattering on the roof of the shack above them. Too hard to be rain or an animal, she thought.

Then she remembered the tree. The giant, ancient tree right beside the shack which stretched high into the sky. The path of least resistance.

The lightning had struck the tree. It was debris she was hearing, and it was growing louder.

By the time the others realized what had happened, the ceiling had already started to collapse.

~~~

Shirley snapped her eyes open with a gasp. Her cheek on the rain-drenched floor. She took inventory of her senses; she felt the cold night air around her again, and the rain falling on her head, neck, and shoulders let her know the shack had been split open around her. Still, she didn’t feel anything missing. And she’d felt her breathing and steady heartbeat—she’d survived the falling tree.

But did he?

“Johnny,” she whispered, slowly scanning her surroundings to look for him in the wreckage and finding only death around her. Out from under a pile of rubble protruded a pair of legs in blood-soaked jeans wearing Ian’s shoes. Luke’s stomach and legs disappeared somewhere under huge tree limbs, along with the rest of Claire’s body below the left shoulder. The falling rain spread the pools of blood forming under the wood, eventually joining them. “Johnny?” She whipped her head back in the other direction to find him on the other side of the space, under a smaller tree branch but whole.

“Johnny…!” She scrambled to her hands and knees and made her way to him, trying to lift the timber from him but failing. She realized all too late that poor Johnny was firmly pinned to the floor, impaled in several places by the branch that fell on him.

Disheartened, she sat back on her calves as her shoulders slumped with a defeated sigh. She looked at his lifeless eyes, frozen in the terror of his final moments. “You looked, didn’t you?”

She didn’t cry for him, she’d cried out all her tears after she’d lost her family in that catastrophic, hellish blaze. She didn’t mourn her lost friends, or any of the countless souls she’d shepherded to their doom over the centuries. Now, as so many times before, she felt hollow. A cold emptiness that accompanied the reminder that she’d forfeited any chance of living a normal life when she accepted the offer that figure made her in the cell.

She felt its presence before she turned to look at it, the hellish hound to which she was bound forever. It looked back at her from past what was left of the shack’s outer wall, sitting on its haunches as it licked its lips and yawned, its eyes smoldering in defiance of the rain falling around her.

Slowly, she stood up and walked away from where Johnny lay, away from the remains of Ian, Claire, and Luke, and out into the open. And Shirley—the alleged witch who struck a deal to save herself and her family only to lose them both—disappeared into the dark night, the Omen of St. Tepes following close behind.

[sanya-prose]

The Alterations: Prologue

Japana hauntingly resembled a man long dead. Toshinori Yagi squirmed as he took in the young teen. She regarded the room with a composed behaviour, despite the fact she was in cuffs and could potentially be sent to prison. Her Quirk... Was potentially the same as All for One.

        Japana, the vigilante who had been twisting society and causing chaos without a care, peered through the one-way mirror into the examination room. Her red eyes pierced his soul like All for One's hand pierced his abdomen. "And she wouldn't say anything?"

        Eraserhead sighed. "That's why we called you here. She said, she wouldn't start talking unless it were you." Toshinori Yagi couldn't imagine the frustration, agitation, and even fear that was flooding the underground Pro-hero. He only managed to capture the vigilante through his support item and brute force. At the cost of his Quirk that could be residing within the girl as they spoke. "Think she's related to that guy?"

        "I don't know. There is a chance."

        "Well, stop wasting time, and go in there. We need answers."

        He didn't want to. Everything about the girl screamed a threat. Her eyes, her hair, her deathly pale complexion, the manner in which she held herself. Everything screamed a warning. Yet, he straightened and marched his way into the interrogation room with a bellow. "I AM HERE."

        "Yes, and loud you are. Almost obnoxiously so." The vigilante tilted her head toward him. "I was wondering when you were gonna quit hiding out in there with Eraserhead and that detective friend of yours. Interesting "

        Wait, she knew?! All Might tensed but kept up his smile.

        "Well, let's cut right to the purpose you're here: You have questions; I have answers." She gestured to the table between them. "So, let's start with your biggest and most important question."

        That demanding presence... A cold chill ran up his spine as she leasurely eased herself in a metal chair and waited for him to join her. Naomasa glanced at him and claimed the seat between her and a now vacant chair. He placed down a recorded in the center of the table. As Yagi himself took the seat opposite from the teen, his friend addressed her before playing record: "We will be recording."

        She shrugged. "Of course, in fact, let me do this part. This is Shigaraki Takara, code named: Japana, a vigilante of Jaku City. It is the 13th of March, year 2155, and the time is 6 o'clock, on the dot, in the afternoon. The one asking the questions is the number one Pro-hero All Might and the one confirming the validity of my statements is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa."

        Naomasa and Toshinori tensed. Shigaraki! Fuck, this girl was related to All for One.

        "What did you do with Eraserhead's Quirk?"

       "The guy with the Support Gear scarf, right? Don't worry, I didn't steal it. I simply did what he usually does to the crooks he meets, but a little bit more permanent."

       Naomasa stutted: "T-Truth."

        Fear struck a cord inside Toshinori, playing a daunting tune. Gone. She just... She just ended a man's career. "You erased his Quirk?" he hissed, springing to his feet.

        "Just for a time. I'll see it returned within 24 hours. Those bags under his eyes weren't making him look any less depressed and overworked." She waved her hand absentmindedly, not taking him any seriously as she would a kitten or a puppy. "Until he gets a good amount of rest and some TLC, I'm not bringing it back."

        "Truth."

        "What's your Quirk?"

        "Depends. One remains the same throughout, the other gets changed repeatedly depending on what I need."

        Toshinori dropped the wide smile. "Answer plainly."

        "I call it Alternance and its exactly as it says on the tin: I can change the state of being on anything, whether it be inanimate or animate. A rundown car can be turned into a Bugatti or a man with a Quirk becomes a man without. A corpse one minute and suddenly alive and breathing the next. I have yet to find my limit." Shigaraki Takara smirked and pressed back against the chair, stretching her arms over her head. "Be fortunate that I haven't joined my father's schemes. Nor is he aware of my little skillset or my existence."

        Toshinori sputtered out blood. "All Might!"

        "Yeah, you might want to edit that out of the tapes. Lest someone from your department release it to the public."

        "How does he not know you exist? Father?!" he squawked.

        "Yes, father. You know the man who sired me." The girl rolled her eyes as if she hadn't flipped their worldview. All for One had a child! From the looks of it, she's probably around the age of UA's first years. So, when he killed the man, she oughta been ten at the very least. She fiddled with her handcuffs like a bored toddler messed with anything they can get their grubby hands on, picking at the metal and chain. "I just mentioned what I'm able to do. Naturally, I didn't want a manipulative asshole to continue having me or my brother in his birdcage for whatever sinister plans he had for us."

        "Truth."

        Oh, that implication. He'll address the sibling detail later, however one thing weighed heavily in his mind. "Did you ever use it on the civilians?"

        "Such a dark expression." She sighed. "No. Everyone who aligns themselves with me, everyone who admires me and more, all of them are doing it out of their free will. If there's one line I'll never cross, it'd be altering a person's mind to suit my needs. Unless they gave me permission to heal them of some mental ailment, then I'd do so. But otherwise, nah."

        "Truth."

        Young Shigaraki smiled at Naomasa. "As I said before to the grumpy cat, I am many things. A liar ain't one of them."

        Toshinori released a breath he didn't know he withheld. Beyond breaking the law multiple times, she was the farthest thing from her father. She wasn't massive as he was, now that he thought on it, neither did those blood-red eyes hold malice and contempt within them. Still a bit creepy, like one of those horror dolls in the movies, but she kinda reminded him of an albino rabbit. "Where is your brother, Young Shigaraki? We never saw working with anyone beyond a few... villains of sorts."

        "Haaaah, the term villain is so misleading. I get using it for my father, but small time crooks?" Young Shigaraki shook her head. "Also, don't call me Shigaraki. I may have said it for the tapes, but I'd rather not give the Old Fossil any acknowledgement. Just call by my first name. Or Japana if you must."

        "As you wish, Young Japana."

        "My brother is back at the safehouse, with some friends of ours. He's probably playing some video game with the little ones."

They left with their minds buzzing and a little offbalance. 

        First, they met the only biological child of All for One, who clearly holds some distaste towards the man. Not that any could blame her. Toshinori couldn't imagine the man being a decent parent. He probably only viewed her as some pawn for him to marionette around to his whims.

        Second, her Quirk... It was powerful, and she was truly right on one thing. Had she been loyal to her father, and played to his schemes, they'd all be ruined. She currently didn't know her limits. If she had any, it was entirely possible for her to erase it from existence. She likely even altered her Quirk to be akin to One for All, which she evidently knew off. {"He would never shut up about it. He'd go on and on of how his brother betrayed him after his 'kindness', how much of a nuisance One for All was, how he wished he could just take it and be done with the bother. All the more reason to mimic its traits.}

        And finally, her older brother... was his master's grandson. 

        That last one toppled everything he knew off the scales.

        Young Japana had looked at him somberly as she explained all that she knew: Of how his master's son had grown into a bitter man who forbid his children from even mentioning heroes, let alone imagining of following their grandmother's footsteps; of how Young Tomura had been deemed Quirkless till he met All for One and was given a devastating Quirk that slaughtered his entire family; of how he wandered the streets for weeks with no heroes stepping in to help, no civilian asking whether or not he was alright or needed help, and how he grew to hate society by the time she was born. After his fight with All for One, she'd taken the boy with her and disappeared from any of her father's followers. She changed her appearance from resembling her mother to match her father's and altered Young Tomura's appearance to resemble what she knew of his grandmother. She tweeked his Quirk to be safer for him to interact with society. All he needed to wear was some gloves and he had no more issues.

        "Why did you become a vigilante?" he had ask, the question burning in the back of his mind. She had escaped her father, she even went to school, she could've waited a little longer and taken the entrance exam for UA if she wished to be a hero.

        "People have forgotten the meaning behind the word hero," she said. "Before the fancy suits, flashy battles, and whatnot, heroes were those who did selfless acts in the face of their fears. I remember a true story of a little girl who had no ability but was simply an ordinary child. It was at a gathering, and one of the cars wasn't put on Park. So it declined down a small slope leading up to the garage, straight toward some toddlers who were playing at the bottom. This girl and her friend (who also noticed) screamed, catching the adults' attention, and rushed down to pick up the toddlers and toss them out of the way. The girl's friend survived with some minor injuries. The girl passed away at nine years old." She glanced up at the ceiling and added, "I don't see that in the adults today, let alone the children who claim to to be heroes in the making. I see adults walk pass children in need, instead of stopping for a moment to check on them. I've seen and heard children of six years old tell a little boy it'd be better for him to die than waste the air. Unsurprisingly, that same boy later killed himself on Mother's day. He was twelve and he wrote a heart wrenching letter, apologizing to his mother for being born without an ability and not dying as the doctors said."

        Naomasa stuttered a pained "Truth" and his heart broke.

        She never lied once throughout the interrogation.

        "What are we going to do about her?"

        Eraserhead scowled at the ground.

[lowlights]

Sunday Morning

Hi. I'm back with my fave domestic man, Pero, who just won't leave me in peace. Thank you to @tuskens-mando for encouraging me as always, @ezrasbirdie for the suggestion of the pet name, and all my lovely bbys on here who listen to me rant and cheer me on. I have been in my feelings the past few days and needed something sweet.

Sunday Morning

WC: 2.8k (mistakes are mine)

Pairing: Neighbor!Pero Tovar (Modern AU)x f!Reader (I imagine her chubby but there's very little description)

Warnings: Mature. Just absolutely epic amounts of fluff. Both Pero and Reader have had a bit of a hard life and need to feel some TLC, Pero being broad and large, fingering, smooches, sweetness, talk of food.

BTW: the little potato quality gif of Pedro in The Great Wall rehearsals inspired what Pero is wearing in this story.

**

Thump thump thump.

Your eyes blink open as you are startled out of a dreamless sleep. You reach for your phone, its bright light blinding you momentarily. 7:05 am? On a Sunday? Who is pounding at your door at such an ungodly hour?

You shuffle to the front door and peek through the peephole. You only see a grey t-shirt stretched across a broad back, along with soft brown hair that’s getting so long it’s starting to curl. You don’t need the man to turn around and show his face to know who it is. You undo the locks and pull the door open.

“Pero? What are you doing here?” you ask, brain still swaddled in sleep. Your neighbor was a quiet man who mostly kept to himself but who had slowly but steadily turned into a friend. It started with swapping mail that had been wrongly delivered to the other, had progressed to sitting out on the bench together while your dog Billie played, to movie nights and shared cartons of takeout.

He turns around as you speak and walks into your living room, stopping to give Billie some head scritches where she lies curled up on the couch.

“Kitchen sink or bathroom sink?” he asks gruffly, large toolbox in hand.

“What?” you ask as you slide the locks back into place and turn to face him.

He tries to hide a smile at the mess that is your hair and the oversized forest green shirt you are wearing, the hem of your sleep shorts just barely seen underneath. “You texted me ‘my sink is leaking’ at one in the morning and I just saw it. Is it the kitchen sink or the bathroom sink?”

“I didn’t think you would get here before the sun came up,” you lament, punctuating your sentence with a quiet yawn. You had texted him out of frustration last night after dumping yet another full bucket of water into the tub. Cursing your landlord who had known about the problem for the last two weeks, you had sent the SOS text. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like an emergency.”

Pero just shakes his head. “I do not care about that, I just want to get it fixed. Kitchen or bathroom?”

You point down the hall towards the bathroom and he turns on his heel and makes his way down the short hallway. You pad along behind him and can’t help but think about how his large frame fills your little apartment.

Pero immediately sets to work opening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out everything from underneath. “How long has it been like this?” he inquires, settling onto his back under the sink.

You hesitate, knowing that the answer is going to annoy him. Pero had taken it upon himself to look after you and your apartment, wanting always to make sure that you were cared for and safe. You had chalked it up to the fact that you live alone and Pero was just being a good neighbor, but the true meaning was something that still lived deep inside Pero’s chest.

You bite your lip as you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Um, a little bit. I told the landlord about it.”

Pero huffs out a dry laugh. “He is an idiot, I’ve told you this.”

Smiling, you let your gaze roam across Pero’s body as he takes a large wrench to the pipes. His ever-present jeans were slung low on his hips and his t-shirt was riding up as he went about fixing the leak. You stare unabashedly at the slice of his torso that is visible, his golden skin dusted with dark hair that disappears below his belt. You chastise yourself for thoughts that play through your head as you realize Pero is saying your name.

“What?” you say, startled out of your daydream.

“I said I can fix this today, just give me a few minutes. Perhaps you should make yourself some coffee, chica?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he is clanging around and cursing under his breath. You take one last look at him before heading into the kitchen to find some breakfast and the largest cup of coffee you can manage.

You move through your familiar morning routine, only this time it’s doubled. Double the amount of eggs, double the slices of toast, double the amount of coffee beans dumped into the grinder. You’re watching the coffee beans spin around and around into dust, lost in thought about how domestic it feels and trying very hard to ignore the warmth that is spreading through your chest.

You’ve got the coffee percolating when you sense a presence behind you. “Sink is fixed.”

Spinning around, you smile at him and open your mouth to express your thanks, but the look on his face stops you in your tracks. His eyes are dark, his normal scowl even deeper than usual.

“Why didn’t you let me know sooner, preciosa?” Pero asks with a frown. “I told you I should be your first call when something goes wrong.” He walks towards you, stopping only a step away.

This is a new term of endearment, and it coupled with his proximity makes you feel like your heart is beating in your throat. You look up at him and mumble something about not wanting to be a bother, which makes his frown soften.

He sighs and moves in even closer, watching closely for any sign that he is making you uncomfortable. “You are never a bother to me. Anything you need, I am yours.” He says it like a promise, a pledge. You have been working your way into his heart for some time now, but seeing you stand there in your pajamas, sleep-mussed and soft and worried about bothering him, his feelings for you are dangerously close to spilling out.

You take in a deep breath, the faint smell of him filling your senses. You don’t know what it’s like to truly feel cared for, having left a bad family situation at a young age. You were independent and sufficient, but it felt unexpectedly comforting to know that someone had your back in this world. You can feel your cheeks warm as you tentatively wrap your arms around him, resting your head against his chest.

Although you can’t see it, Pero’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He can’t remember the last time he was hugged like this, having also not been shown much care by others in his life. He gathers you close in his arms and holds you to him, one hand splayed across your back and the other cradling the back of your head.

Both of you stay like this, unmoving, for who knows how long. Pero finally feels you shift in his arms and he is already lamenting the end of your hug. But to his surprise, you don’t pull away. Instead, you just look up at him with eyes that shine with unshed tears, arms still wrapped around him. He desperately wants to take away whatever pain is buried inside of you, confident that he could shoulder it instead.

“Thank you. For everything. Will you stay for some breakfast?”

“Will you make me your strange egg toast?” he asks, giving you a hopeful smile.

You grin up at him as you nod, each of you pulling apart reluctantly. While you make some gently scrambled eggs and toast, Pero pulls the butter and strawberry jam from the fridge and leaves it next to you, scooting close behind you to pass. He fills two coffee mugs and takes them to the table that is situated in the little corner of the room by the kitchen, folding himself up to fit into the alcove. You’re not far behind with two plates of perfectly toasted wheat bread, slathered with butter and jam, and topped with eggs and black pepper. Pero hums appreciatively as you sit down next to him before digging in with gusto, hunched over his food like he always is.

Chewing in silence, you are hyper-aware of how your thighs are touching under the table, the rough texture of his jeans against your bare legs. You try to focus on your breakfast but all you can think about is how good he smells. Dammit.

In between bites, Pero gestures towards your hair with his fork. “Is this a new style?”

You reach one hand up and feel the mess of hair on top of your head, eyes widening. Pero only smirks at you.

“Well, this is what I look like when someone pulls me straight out of bed. Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a playful slap to his arm.

Pero puts down his fork as the smirk falls from his face, melting into a serious but pensive look. “You always look beautiful, preciosa,” he says softly.

You mirror his action and put your own fork down, turning your body towards him. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place one hand on his arm. “Pero, I…why do you take such good care of me?”

Looking down at where your hand, Pero leans in close to you. He clears his throat and says, “I just want to make sure you’re alright. You…you mean something to me.”

You know the words of this confession are hard for him. He doesn’t say much, electing often to observe instead. Even when he does speak he tends to lean into sarcasm or dry humor. But these soft words are laden with so much emotion and honesty that you are fearful he might put back up those walls of his if you say the wrong thing.

He’s just staring at your hand on his arm, still as stone. You slowly lift your hand from his forearm to his cheek, tilting his head up slightly so that he can see you when you say the words he desperately needs to hear.

“I care about you, too. So much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Pero turns his head and presses a kiss into your palm, eyes never leaving yours. His soul is laid bare before you, a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. That deep secret, the one he has kept shoved down in his chest, is bubbling out of him and he knows there is no turning back if he takes that next step forward.

You smile softly and he’s done for. He meant what he said before: he is yours.

He leans forward and kisses you, lips slotted against your own. He tastes like coffee and strawberry jam and is tugging you as close to him as possible, communicating through his kiss everything he still can’t say. Your hands are in his hair and gripping his shoulders, clutching the soft grey fabric of his shirt in your fists.

You break apart to breathe, resting your forehead against his. His hands run up and down your thighs, enraptured by the feel of them under his hands and the thrill that he is allowed to touch you at all. “Maybe we can go somewhere not so cramped?” he suggests.

Looking over at Billie’s long limbs stretched out on the couch, you know better than to think she will move out of the way. You take a risk and stand up, coming around to pull Pero up by the hand and lead him back towards your bedroom. He follows dutifully, gripping your hand tightly and almost running into you when you stop at the foot of your bed.

You turn to look at him and say with nervous sincerity, “We don’t have to do anything, I just…think it might be nice to…lie together? It’s still early.”

Pero leans down to kiss you again before kicking off his shoes. You nod at him to take one side of the bed while you take the other, meeting each other in the middle. He stares at you, all signs of his normally grumpy demeanor absent. You turn away from him and pull his arm across your body, urging him to scoot behind you. He does so without another word, just a kiss placed behind your ear as he rests his hand across your stomach. Normally you would feel self-conscious about this action, but he just makes you feel…safe. Secure. Cared for.

Neither one of you expected this, and yet you both realize this is exactly what you’ve been building towards with each other. The movie nights spent gravitating towards each other, the way you both register and recall each other’s idiosyncrasies, the accidental touches that were never truly accidental. Tenderness is something that has been in short supply for both of you, so to have this moment now seems so intimate that you almost feel like crying.

A lump forms in your throat and almost immediately Pero seems to notice. “Preciosa, are you alright?”

You nod and nuzzle back into him, letting his warmth envelop you. His hand skims your torso, down and up again, over and over, softly grazing just under your tits and back down across the swell of your hips. He stops at the hem of your shirt, toying with it between two fingers. A silent ask, without pressure or expectation, to take it further.

You help guide his hand to lift the shirt until he finds the waistband of your shorts.

“Are you sure?” he says lowly.

You twist so that your lips can meet his, your hand tangling in his dark brown curls. “Positive,” you whisper back.

Settling back against his broad chest, you shift your hips so that Pero can easily work his fingers down to your core. He does so gently, trailing one finger across your folds where he finds you warm and wanting.

“Oh, preciosa, will you let me take care of you? So wet for me,” he says as he teases your entrance.

“God, please,” you beg, unashamed at how much you want him. You can feel him growing hard behind you as he seeks some friction against your ass, zipper pressed against his throbbing cock.

He heeds your plea and slides one of his large fingers into you, curling slightly as his thumb skims over your clit. You arch against him, gasping at the sensation. He murmurs soothing phrases in Spanish in your ear, drawing his finger in and out of you before adding a second. He creates his own tantalizing rhythm; thrusting, scissoring, curling with his fingers while his thumb rubs against your swollen clit in between. The sounds your wet pussy is making coupled with the soft moans he is pulling from you make him so hard he thinks he might come right in his pants.

But for now, this is about you. He needs to communicate how he can care for you and love you without having to say the words; he is a man of action and he isn’t ready to utter those syllables yet although he knows the feeling is already there. So he repeats his ministrations, building and building until he curls and rubs together at just the right moment, making you see stars behind your eyelids and call out his name.

The way your cunt flutters around his fingers has him craving the same feeling around his cock. He lets you ride out your orgasm, holding you tight to his body, letting you feel how turned on you make him. When he pulls his fingers from you, you turn around to face him and throw your leg over his hips, letting his denim-clad dick rub against your sensitive sex.

You kiss him over and over again, eagerly obliging when his tongue begs for access to your mouth and squealing when he grabs a handful of your ass to grind himself against you.

“You know, Pero, if this is how it’s going to be you’re welcome over here as early as you want,” you say with a smile, kissing his nose and laughing as he scrunches up his face at you.

“If we’re going to have early mornings, it might just make sense if I stay the night. No commute that way,” he says.

“Good idea,” you say with a kiss before Pero grabs hold of you and tugs you up so that you are fully straddling him.

“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice since the moment I walked in that you’re not wearing a bra,” he says, pulling you down to kiss along your neck.

“Oh god,” you say as you feel your cheeks warm with equal parts embarrassment and arousal. “I should really put on something sexier for our first time. Lingerie or at least a cute bra.”

He grunts in disagreement. “As if you’re not the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen? I want you just as you are.”

You roll your eyes, but he spends the rest of the day proving it to you. And every day after that.

**

A/N: Yes, I make eggs and egg sandwiches like that. With any jam, really. You should try it! Good with white cheddar too...

[historfantasy]

I think after watching this week’s episode of Wandavision for the fourth time, I finally understand all the emotions going on in scenes that happen after Wanda opens the last door.

First, she is just physically upset, she drove to SWORD after opening up the deed that her dead soulmate gave to her from beyond the grave. So she marches in. Then when she’s talking to the guy at the desk she sinks into the fact that when she woke up, she was no longer holding him. So Wanda wants his body even though I don’t think she has processed that she is going to see a body.

Because when she walks down the hallway still with the bravado she walked in with and she asks Hayward for the body and he shows Vision dismembered, she can’t process what she’s looking at. She hasn’t processed it being Vision’s body, and especially not that they are dismembering the valuable body she saw Ultron get the parts for and build.

So she turns to ask Hayward what he is doing, how he can just pull apart something that was once someone that gave her strength and love. Then when he answers her by calling Vision, “the most sophisticated, sentcient weapon”, basically a gun with a brain that they want to pull apart for its shiny, valuable pieces, he bursts another bubble for her. She is knocked down lower than ever, “you can’t do this.” Pleading by giving Hayward a desperate reason for him to give her Vision, “I just want to bury him.” Hayward, I think can tell he is breaking her down and picks his next few phrases very specifically. He isn’t blunt and rude at first he is questioning her, riling her up to make her feel worse.

He questions a woman, who is notably distraught, about her intentions and “accidentally slips up” in such a fake way, to show Wanda that no one cares about Vision as he is just a machine, and that nobody cares about her feelings for the “three billion dollars in vibranium.” He gives her fake diplomacy but as she expresses her loss and her need to have whatever is left of him, Hayward tells her straight up, “He isn’t yours.” All of this snowballed her into breaking the glass, she wanted to be the villain for a sec she wanted to be the woman who didn’t have to lose again and so she feels vindicated coming down into the lab, to step near his body.

As she steps towards him, she sees the man who saved her in Sokovia, who watched sitcoms in comfort with her, the man who printed out the recipe, who she snuck around the world with, the man she had in her bed. She saw him just in pieces and could probably still remember the burst of energy the mindstone gave off when she destroyed it and was just he was dead. So when she puts her hand over his head says “I can’t feel you,” for the first time” all she was, was unbelievably sad and heartbroken. Another loved one, maybe the most important one yet, is lost to her.

But the second time she says it, it isn’t for dramatic effect, you can hear it in her voice and see it on her face. It’s a whisper of depression and a tiny bit of peace. He isn’t just dead. This man, not a machine, is gone. He is not suffering as they pull him apart, he doesn’t feel weighed down by the stone. He was the man she loved and had to kill and then watch be murdered a second time and he was simply gone. So that’s why she could simply walk out of SWORD. She would have just kept crying right there but no she pulled herself away because it was never the “three billion dollars vibranium” for her, it was everything else.

So she walked out and to her car. Wanda walked away from what was gone and drove to what she actually had left of him. See, Vision never gave her a ring or some little trinket, he wanted to give her his word, but they never had the chance. As she said in Infinity War, “We wanted more time.” But what that means is without him, she really has no item she can burn, keep in her pocket, or hold close to her chest.

We find out though that he gave her a plot of land, in a place that needed some TLC just like her when they met. So she goes to that. That is where she goes and she looks at the deed with his last note to her on it, “To grow old in.” He was never going to grow old, and maybe if she is like Agnes she can’t either, but I don’t think he meant old as a couple. I think he meant for her to grow old in. Either with him there to take care of her as she grows grey and frail or maybe he means for her to grow old in without him just so he knows she has a place after his sacrifice.

She walks through the entrance that she wishes he could have carried her through when they got married or the one he could come home to greet her like her parents once did. That’s where she breaks down. Wanda wanted a future with him and that future, her love for sitcoms, her desire for a picturesque life, and Vision all just come pouring out of her. Literally.

She cannot take the pain so she lets everything pour out because her love preserved even after his death but she never even got the chance to tell him those three simple words when he was alive.

[words-for-holland]

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

[gamerbearmira]

Among the Sleep sequence that takes place the night of their second birthday?

Yes

If you've read "Cocooned", you'll see that I mentioned that the Madrigal babies don't like sleeping alone. I was browsing some old horror game playthroughs to watch while I draw, and I saw Among the Sleep. I remember you played as a scared 2 year old who's trying to find your way out of the darkness and to your mother.

So, Cocoon AU but there's a sequence that's like Among the Sleep.

Characters: 2 year old Isabela, Dolores, Luisa, Camilo, Mirabel and Antonio. (I'll be referring to them as sextuplets or Julieta's/Pepa's triplets for simplicity.)

It's the sextuplets 2nd birthday. They've just finished eating their cake and they get their presents. Each of the babies got their own little stuffed doll to sleep with from their beloved Abuela. Abuela says that she made them with love and TLC for each and everyone of them.

Isabela got a little cactus plush. Her big smile made Isabela smile. She had a flower pot as clothes, hands and feet coming out of the sides and bottom. It also had a pretty purple flower on its head. She named her “Senora Cacti".

Dolores got an owl plush. It had wide eyes, and was wearing a small sombrero. She hugged it tightly, thanking her Abulea. Thus forth, his name was "Búho".

Luisa got a bear plush. It had rosy cheeks, and a big smile. It had a pretty shirt, the color a beautiful indigo, just like her. She felt warm and fuzzy when she hugged "Osá".

Camilo got a chameleon. It had large funny eyes that made Camilo giggle when he looked at them. It was wearing a poncho, which Camilo loved playing with. It was his favorite color, orange. He named him "Vistoso".

Mirabel got a butterfly. She loved how fluffy it was and how the wings fit right into her small arms. The bow holding its antenna together made her squeal in delight. It was blue with pink wings, and she loved it more than any other toy. She loudly proclaimed her name was "Aella".

Antonio got a jaguar. It was yellow like the ones in his books, but this one had colorful spots in all colors. Its tail was long and he loved touching its spots. Smiling happily, he named him "Parce".

The toddlers were out into the nursery to play while their parents, tias, tios and abuela cleaned up downstairs. While playing, they see their stuffed toys huddled in a circle. Curiosity overtakes them and they see the toys walk over. They were talking and moving! Each of the kids played a small game with their respective gift, giggling and laughing at how amazing they were.

Once the children were put to bed, it was normal. They were in their cribs, sleeping closely to their stuffed toys.

Until a loud bang, followed by some muffled yelling downstairs woke them up.

Each of them wake up, fear etched on their small faces. It's dark, and the moonlight is dim. Casita isn't responding. What happened? Each of them could feel their vision getting blurry, it felt like the world was closing in on them. A soft light emitted from their toy box, effectively calming them down. After helping each other get out of the cribs, they each looked at each other, toys in hand. Being only 2, they were unable to communicate with each other clearly, only saying single words or random babbling. But their toys could talk. And they could understand them.

The toys carefully explain that they need to collect 6 very special objects from different rooms in the house, so that they could save their family. The toddlers agreed, they wanted to save their Casita and their family!

Isabela goes first. Senora Cacti goes with her, and she toddles her way to Abuela's room. At first she didn’t want to go in; Abuela always said to knock and wait for her to come open the door. But Senora Cacti insisted, saying it would save her Abuela. So she opens the door, slipping in quietly. As she explores the room, she realizes: It's much bigger than before. And it's very dark. She didn't like it, but she needed to help her family! So she pushed on. There were a lot of blown out candles and debris. As she was climbing over a large piece of wood, she saw something in front of her. It was HUGE. A large old looking shadow monster, eyes glowing a dark maroon. It let out a shriek, scaring the life out of tiny Isabela. Just as the monster was about to grab Isabela, Senora Cacti stood in front of her and pushed her spikes out, creating a shield and protecting the little girl. Isabela quickly ran off, hiding under the large bed, letting out frightened whimpers. Her vision was bleary, from tears or the monster, she didn’t know. After seeing the monster passby, she came from under the bed, continuing her journey. Isabela had to use Senora Cacti against the monster several more times, before finally getting to her destination. It was a tall wooden structure. The girl took in a deep breath, and, with the help of Senora Cacti, scaled the structure. At the top, there was something glowing and it was very shiny. Isabela picked it up, and upon closer inspection, it was her Abuela’s pendant that had a photo of her Abuelo in it. Senora Cacti congratulated her, and the 2 quickly left the room. She got back to the safehouse (the nursery) safely, pendant in hand. The other rugrats clapped for her, to which she smiled brightly.

Dolores went next. Buho had said she needed to go to her mama, Pepa’s room, and get her hair bow. The young girl snuck out of the safehouse, the soft golden glow fading as she went to her mothers room. When she finally made it to her mothers room, everything was…different. Everything was huge, and aggressively warped. There were clouds everywhere, and little Dolores couldn’t see more than 2 feet in front of her. The ground below her felt damp, like it had just rained. Buho had told her that she had to go to her mama’s big mirror and grab her hair bow. Carefully making her way through the fog, she could make out parts of the room. While looking around for the mirror, a loud thunder cracked. The toddler jumped, spinning around to see a shadow monster. Her vision went blurry, and looking at the monster, it had a very mad face, and there was a cloud above its head, where thunder and lightning emitted. Dolores, being 2, was horrified, and ran away, out running the monster. She hid behind some crates as she heard the thunder pass. Buho said that he would listen out for her while she looked. As they went through the haze, she would hide in various places when Buho said he heard the thunder coming. Eventually she made it to the big mirror. She looked into the reflection, and saw the glowing bow in the mirror. She didn’t see it when she looked behind her, so, reaching in, she grabbed the yellow bow and pulled it out. She giggled and made a sound of victory, Buho flapping his wings happily. Dolores and Buho quickly left the room and went back to the safehouse, the other babies smiling at the bow and Dolores.

Luisa took Oha’s hand and left the safehouse next. Buho had said she needed to grab her papa’s writing pen. She knew where that was! It was downstairs, on the desk in the side room. She waddled down the dark hallway, still hold Oha’s hand. When she got to the stairs, she saw a big box was in the way. She tried to push it, but it was much too heavy. Buho stood next to her, and in one big push, pushed the box out of the way. As Luisa was making her way down the stairs, she looked up and saw it. A very tall, very scary shadow. It didn’t have a face, only glasses, with a dark blue tint behind one of the lenses.. It freaked her out, and she shrieked in fear. The shadow stalked towards her, its hands slowly reaching for her. Luisa quickly slid down the rest of the stairs, yanking Oha along with her. At the bottom, she turned the corner and hid behind the steps, watching and waiting for the monster to pass. Once she saw it leave, she ran off to the side room. Oha was very helpful, moving boxes and crates out of the way. Whenever the 2 encountered the monster, Oha would throw the boxes and crates so Luisa could get away. Eventually, after traversing through the nightmare world that was supposed to be Casita, she got to the side room. She used drawers to climb the desk and finally grabbed the glowing shiny pen. She left the room, running up the stairs with haste and getting back to the warm safehouse. The other children were happy she and Oha were back, and patted her back as she caught her breath.

Camilo waved his siblings and primas goodbye, Vistoso following him as he left. He crept down the hall, his foot pajamas muffling his small footsteps. Vistoso guided him to his Tio Bruno’s room. Camilo was hesitant, none of the children were allowed in his room with him. But Vistoso ushered him to open the door. So, climbing the stairs, which he had noticed seemed less than before, he opened the door. Vistoso walked in with Camilo, the door closing behind him. There was sand everywhere. It was like a desert, but with an unsettling green glow. There were also a lot of big jackets and ruanas hanging from the sky. Camilo walked on, the pitter patter of his feet being muffled even more by the sand. He was climbing a rather large dune when he felt a light hit him and Vistoso. He turned and his large eyes welled up with tears when he saw a large dark figure with glowing green eyes. It had a deep frown, and it chilled Camilo to the bone. He grabbed Vistoso and slid down the sand dune, rolling into some of the coats. The 2 year old stayed hidden, and Vistoso insisted he hold him. Camilo grabbed the toy and lo and behold the monster walked by, not even glancing at Camilo. Camilo left and continued through the sand, grabbing Vistoso and hiding behind coats when he saw the green eyes. He made it into a separate room, and in the middle was a glowing vision. Camilo grabbed it and in it was all of the children smiling while their tio Bruno put on one of his shows. Camilo hugged the vision tightly and left the room, slipping back into the safehouse where the other toddlers clapped for him and admired the vision he retrieved.

Mirabel gave her siblings and cousins each a hug, something they invented when they wanted to comfort each other. Aella flew by her side as she went 2 doors over to her mama’s room. After going inside, she examined the room. The 2 year old felt scared…alone. The usual warmth of her mothers room was gone; it felt cold and desolate. She crept through the room, climbing over the large stack boxes, overlooking the dark and cold room. The girl needed some herbs…her mama usually kept them next to her molcajete. Climbing back down, she walked to where she knew her mama kept the object. As she walked, she heard something whisper her name. Her blood ran cold as she froze. In front of her, was a tall smiling figure. But the smile wasn’t warm, it was rather eerie and its glowing eyes didn’t help. Mirabel let out a yelp and the shadow reached to grab her, causing her to run away. After she was sure the shadow monster was gone, she trudged on. Aella would fly ahead and scout, alerting her of the monster when it was nearby. Mirabel would hide behind crates and cover her mouth. After what seemed like forever, Mirabel finally spotted the molcajete. It seemed so much bigger than before, but she paid it no mind. She climbed the large bowl and saw the glowing herbs. Snatching them up, she ran out the room, ignoring the whispering of her name from the shadow monster. When she was in the safehouse, the other kids sat down with her and helped her calm down, just as they had done for the others.

Antonio left with Parce after Mirabel calmed down, and made his way down the stairs. Parce had told him he needed his papi’s umbrella, the big yellow one. It was downstairs by the front door, that he knew. When he looked downstairs in between the rails, it was dark. Casita’s courtyard was super big and dim, he could see. But he needed to save his family, so he marched (or rather wobbled) down the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he began walking towards the direction of the door. It was quiet, too quiet, and Antonio already started missing his siblings and primas. Antonio was walking next to Parce when he saw a large shadow loom over him. It had yellow eyes and they stared straight into his soul. Anontio yelped, the hair on his neck standing up, and he bolted. He ran behind a door, and watched the shadow search the floor. Once the shadow was gone, Parce told him that if he held him tight, he would glow brightly and keep the monster away. Antonio nodded and grabbed Parce, squeezing him. True to his word, the jaguar glowed a soft yellow light. With the new found light Parce produced, he made his way towards the front door. Anytime the monster came towards him, he would hold Parce out and the monster would go away. The toddler finally got to his papa’s umbrella, grabbing it and running up the stairs, Parce in arms.

Once Antonio was back, all the toddlers gathered their items in the center of their room. A pendant, a hair bow, a pen, a vision, some herbs, and an umbrella. The little ones were confused, what did this mean? After babbling on and on to each other trying to figure out what was happening, the soft light that came from the toybox disappeared. The group of 2 year olds all huddled together, crying in fear. They hated being in the dark, and this wasn’t an exception. They could hear the shadow monsters coming to their safe house. The toddlers couldn’t say much, only small sentences and one word answers. Anything else they tried to say tried to come out as gibberish. Right when the door was about to open, Casita opened the wardrobe. Antonio grabbed the umbrella and Parce, squeezing him tightly and unsteadily ran to the wardrobe. He made gestures and baby-sounds urging the others to follow. The other toddlers grabbed their toys, their items, and rushed into the closet. The door closed, and the toddlers backed away as they heard the nursery door slam open, the shadow monsters making a cacophony of noise that frightened the 2 year olds. Parce's light was the only thing keeping them safe. They huddled close together, whimpering quietly.

Just a thought ❤️

[sparklekitteh]

It may sound weird but I like when Jean is being a baby about stuff, you know what I mean? Like being sick as an example.

Maybe he gets all whiny and pouty when he’s wanting more attention from you. He can be clingy and demanding with your affection sometimes so when he feels like he’s not getting enough TLC, he acts like a baby about it.

You just roll your eyes and indulge him. You think he’s cute and kinda funny like this so you don’t mind. 💜

Awww, Jean is a big baby XD

He's been through so much and he's always been tough in the face of every danger, shouldering painful injuries both physical and mental.

When you become a thing, though, Jean shows a much softer side. He comes dragging in from an expedition bruised and scraped, not too horribly injured but clearly he's in need of a good soak in the bath and some TLC. He's the big badass soldier acting like nothing phases him until he gets back to your shared quarters.

"Ouch," he hisses as you unbuckle and remove the straps of his ODM gear. "Bastards got close that time. I could feel the heat of its breath on my neck... damned teeth scraped me just before I got away."

You help him out of his bloody shirt, slide his torn pants down his legs.

"Oh sweetheart," you gasp when you see his injuries. They seem superficial but that doesn't lessen the shock of seeing so much of your beloved's blood on his skin and clothing.

Your shaken expression and the gentle care you provide him as you clean his wounds before drawing his bath triggers something in him that makes the resilient solider fade away, and in his place is a pitiful, tender man.

He whines when you leave the room to get ointment for his wounds. He pouts as you bandage him up after his bath. When you get him to bed, he insists on cuddling with his head on your boobs and his arms wrapped around your waist -- good luck if you need to pee or your leg falls asleep, you're at his mercy. He's got to be Little Spoon and he will accept no excuses.

It's the same when he catches a minor virus. He loves it when you make soup for him, or you peel his orange. I think he's a little bit of a mama's boy despite how mean he was to her in his OVA, so when you do sweet things that remind him of home he loves it. Snuggle up and sing lullabies to him even though he's a grown ass man? He'll ask you to marry him. Slice his apples to look like little bunnies? Man is yours forever.

Of course, he would be mortified if the 104th found out, but I think he'd also brag about how he has the best sweetheart in the world. <3

[tobiosmilktea]

 umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[021] — like a storm!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: swear my writing hasn’t been that good recently and i blame it on my lack of freetime 😔 anyway here’s 4.5k words of trashy word dump that i wrote in 2 hours ;)) also peep the tlc reference

in theory, this picnic blanket was much too small for the likes of fitting a webtoon author, an editor, and a beefy volleyball player all at once, and yet, it still managed to fit two more to come join—tightly bunched up in the park at night as the crisp air temperature slowly drops. having a picnic at the cusp of autumn and winter was a definite mistake, but then again, perhaps they were used to it by now.

it wasn’t like the cold was bothering bokuto at this point anyway as his blood simmered with a boiling hot ichor. he had a death grip on his phone as satomi left him on read. all the volleyball player could do was roll his eyes and scoff as he taps your shoulder. akaashi, who sat on the other side of you was in the midst of speaking to you, yet was interrupted by the bright white light from the screen shone across your faces.

your eyes scanned the texts, feeling your lungs desperately yearning for air. her words suffocated you, crushing your airways as you struggled to breathe. perhaps you have forgotten how to at that very moment. they say it takes about three minutes for someone to suffocate from the lack of oxygen and if akaashi didn’t shake you, that probably would have been you. the fact that seeing that damn photo made your heart shatter more times than you could count over a course of the past few days. you couldn’t catch a fucking break, could you?

you had to look away. if you had stared at satomi in iwaizumi’s bed any longer, you would’ve screamed your head off.

“god, these cookies are so fucking good. i would literally marry these if i could,” kaori moaned into another bite of a matcha shortbread cookie. she practically threw herself over yuko’s lap as she reached in her little baggie for more. “these cookies are a godsend, (y/n), where did you get them?”

“this bakery right next to onigiri miya, apparently they make good lemon macarons as well.” you mutter. the semblance of seeing those texts was still evident upon your expression.

yuko doesn’t fail to notice the way the timbre of your voice had changed within a sudden moment. she gives you a look, “what’s wrong?” her words, careful and genuine filled you with something somber as bokuto handed his phone to her.

kaori grunts slightly as she lifts herself off of yuko, yet her body was still leaned over to skim the texts along with her.

it was a nervous habit of yours to fiddle with your fingers, picking and scratching at your chipped nail polish until it was all gone. you don’t remember when this became a habit, but you always did this whilst you waited for something you dreaded to hear the answer to. as if the nerves within you pooled into a wave, crashing back and forth like a tide until you either get dragged along with it or somehow manage to survive.

their expressions contorted into a nasty mixture of disgust and absolute horror. even kaori who has seen the despicable sweet-tongued manipulations of nicotine-stained fingers of incels had to shake her head and push the phone away.

“i never liked that girl from the start,” yuko scoffs. she hands the phone back to bokuto, watching him switch it off and dropping it onto the cushioned picnic blanket in annoyance.

“god, the amount of anger coursing through my body right now...” muttered bokuto, “i can’t believe she would do this.”

“at least she didn’t do anything to iwaizumi,” akaashi tried to reason. things were already so messed up, it was the least he could do.

kaori shakes her head, clearing her throat from the dryness of the shortbread cookie. “doesn’t matter,” her words were venomous and cutthroat, “she’s still a terrible person considering she got him drunk and made him tell her shit that wasn’t any of her business. what a fucking snake.”

you pursed your lips slightly, wanting to close your eyes and make this all disappear the moment you wake up. the chill of the night air had finally struck you. it was that sudden urge to run away as fast as possible, to escape the words you wholeheartedly wanted to leave behind continued to follow you like haunting poltergeists. and as if the tingling phrases of whispered memoirs of your mistakes weren’t enough, your own decisions whether it was right or wrong lingered back to both iwaizumi and bokuto. it’s heavy baggage you so dearly wanted to get rid of, but the solutions seemed so skewed and out of place for you to comprehend properly that even the chill in the air started to burn.

bokuto glanced at you with worry coated the emotions in his eyes. his hand reached for yours, lacing his fingers through your own as his palm—though rough and calloused—was warm against the biting cold of your hand. it comforted you more than you had expected with the way it was hidden from the others, almost melting when bokuto started to rub his thumb in little circles on the back of your hand and over your knuckles.

your hands were so soft, he had forgotten how much he liked holding them. he could memorize each and every detail just by admiring the way your hand looked so tiny next to his, yet they fit together like a glove.

you swore your heart was ready to jump out of your throat then. you weren’t sure if bokuto could even feel the way you squeezed his hand slightly as a silent answer.

“we should do something about it,” you say after a few beats of silence had passed, but it only comes out in a hushed mutter.

bokuto squeezed back, “like what?”

“i don’t really know,” you shrug while you shook your head, “just something that’ll make her learn a lesson or two.”

kaori gasps, “we should sue her!”

you and the others gave her a look.

“like seriously, sexual assault allegations are terrible especially since she’s a famous sports team’s physical therapist!”

“there probably isn’t enough evidence for that to work, kaori, considering they only made out.” yuko says matter-of-factly, “besides, suing someone is expensive and we don’t have that kind of budget right now.”

kaori braids over arms over each other in disappointment, “that’s lame.”

“yuko’s right.” you sighed, “i don’t want things to get out of hand and end up going public either. iwaizumi is already mad at the fact that i used him for a webtoon and surely being part of a lawsuit would only make it worse.”

it had come to a point that you had noticed how far everything has come. you wanted to laugh at how fast everything went downhill within a matter of months. the skeleton of your mistakes was just waiting for its last bits to fall and crush you.

there had to be a way to just make this—whatever this entire thing is to just end already.

akaashi opened his mouth to speak after keeping his thoughts to himself this entire time, “what if we just... get her fired?” he finished the last of his words in a blazing hesitance as if we would absolutely hate the idea. granted, it wasn’t much to work off of just by a simple proposal, but it had potential.

“we could, but how exactly are we going to do that?” bokuto asks curiously.

“didn’t you say that tomas recently got injured?” akaashi starts, earning a nod from bokuto to have him continue, “well if we want to be discrete as possible we could do it the old-fashioned way.”

yuko furrowed her brows as she asked, “which is?”

“if she keeps missing work or arriving late, she could potentially lose her job.”

kaori bursts out laughing, heaving a heavy snort as she mused at akaashi, “seriously? is that really our best option?”

akaashi rolled his eyes as she teases, “since you wanted to go the legal route, technically, it is.”

the girl’s laughter came to a slow cease, cocking her head in interest as she waited for one of them to elaborate.

“no yeah, there’s still a chance for this to actually work.” bokuto starts without a second thought. hell, he even forgot he was still holding your hand. “professional sports teams require their medical team to be at every game whether it’s real or just practice since the players are always at risk of getting injured. satomi’s known to be good at being there every day on time, so if yoji and their boss sees that she’s consistently missing work now for... let’s say—iwaizumi—and tomas isn’t getting treated asap, they’re allowed to replace her. and if you’re replaced, there’s basically no going back even if it is just temporary. and if that happens...” he pauses as he holds back a smirk, “she’s going to be fined legally with negligence—worst-case scenario, she’ll probably be fined for nonfeasance too.”

“whoa there, those are some big words, sir.” says kaori, “someone catch me up here?”

akaashi lets out a sigh, “nonfeasance means failure to do what’s expected.”

the sound of awe left kaori as she nods in understanding.

“is this really necessary? it seems like a lot of work just to get back at her.” yuko has always been a rational person, just like akaashi, but the only difference between them was that she liked to do things the fastest and most easy way.

“if we play our cards right, i think we could do it.” says bokuto.

“then i think we need all the help we can get if we really want this to work out.” akaashi said, craning his neck towards you to ask, “should i tell semi and suga about it?”

it’s not even a question for you to answer considering how obvious the answer was. of course, you had to tell them. they basically knew everything already, and if anything they’re the only ones who could make this plan actually work.

“i can also tell my team about it to help.” bokuto adds in, but you cut him a look, “only atsumu, sakusa, hinata, and tomas of course. i promise i’ll only tell them what they need to know. what do you think?”

“as long as satomi gets what she deserves.”

you hated the way your thoughts were an endless motion of suffering. it had been keeping you awake all night as you tossed and turned. you couldn’t rest now as if a giant cinder block of forbidden serendipities would clash-boom-bang back onto you as it was being held by a teetering string of floss. it was bound to snap at any second. you yearned for even just a few minutes of rest as maybe these suffocating feelings would disappear once you woke up in the early morning.

it was still dark out—three a.m... maybe, but all you knew was that it was late and your flurrying thoughts were giving you so much residual energy that you needed to extrude. it wasn’t a form of adrenaline or a sugar rush, no, it was something else. your body was well beyond fatigued, but rather your mind was running like a brain on drugs.

there were so many things rushing through your head that it morphed into a jungle of tangled vines of plenty. it was a storming blizzard that couldn’t be calmed down as you finally pushed yourself off your bed, forcing your sheets off of you and sitting on the side of the matress. guilt was eating you alive, gnawing at your hollow chest as your semblance withered while the minutes passed. you just wanted for everything to just stop. please just stop.

maybe this is why you never told any of them. the stress, the consequences— you knew damn well that shit would hit the fan if you did, and yet it’s inevitable. the truth would have come out sooner or later.

ugh, why are you like this? you thought to yourself, dragging your fingers through your hair as you sighed out.

the answers were obvious, but it was the tingling of your lips that sent waves of heat to your cheeks as you recalled the kiss... the kiss! holy shit, the kiss. it hit you then when it played back in your head from a few hours ago when bokuto dropped you off at your door. something melted in bokuto’s eyes the moment you looked back at him, heat emanating from every inch of his skin as you tracked the tension in his body. he leaned over with his face just a few centimeters shy from yours and you swore he could probably hear your heart punching against your ribcage. bokuto could feel the warmth of your breath fanning against his chin and for a moment the world and all the problems in it seemed to disappear for a brief moment. before you knew it he kissed you gently as if it was his last. it certainly would be for a while, anyway.

“dammit,” you cursed in a harsh whisper, leaning over to switch on your bedside lamp in a swift flick.

you slapped your cheeks to force the thought out of your head as you made your way to your desk. you turned your desk lamp on with it’s bright yellow hue flickering slightly over your messy work area. it was scattered with paperwork and miscellaneous notes that it was surely beyond your mood to even fix-up.

usually, you tend to be pretty clean and organized with your desk space, and yet with recent events, you’ve been letting the work pile up instead. you’ve always liked the saying, this is something future (y/n) can deal with, but for once you hated yourself for it. besides, look where it got you.

a sigh escaped your lips when you plopped yourself upon your chair. your delicate fingers traced along the edges of the neatly bonded sheets of love cemetery’s storyboard. you started it earlier today with the help of the rest of the ddd team after the director of the project gave you the freedom to do so as usually, he would be in charge of making the storyboard and such. despite being rather chaotic on a daily basis, you were glad to be surrounded by people who always put a smile on your face while still getting work done. those were the best types of people to work with—friends that cared about you.

you guys managed to get the first fifteen pages done and you needed twenty completed panels in less than twenty-four hours. you were used to this type of pressure, especially while you were working on your webtoon. you were surprised how many times you sprained your hand from constantly working that the aching pain between your joints and your wrists were second nature at this point. surely, you would have carpal tunnel by now if akaashi wasn’t there to always nag you to take breaks.

with a few wrist stretches and cracks of your knuckles, you flipped to the next scene—the day you and bokuto met. your heart tugged slightly as you envisioned the scene you drew in your webtoon, slowly converting it into a movie scene in your head.

oh, how things have changed.

your hand ached for mercy by the time seven a.m. struck. the sun had already peeked through the horizon, sending rays of sunlight through the blinds of your bedroom window as a greeting for the new morning. you had been sketching out the storyboard for five nonstop hours (give or take a few minutes in between trying not to let the different events in the story get to you).

you’ve always had a strange habit of ignoring the pain in your wrist, but now it was certainly unbearable. the lead pencil that was hot to the touch from the heat from your hand dropped onto your desk in a clatter. your eyes flicked down to your palm as you could feel the fatigue darkening your eyebags. your hands were practically alabaster from the constant pressure that it took a good moment for the circulation to run back into your hand.

you left your bedroom and made your way to your kitchenette. it was like your body was moving on its own, grabbing a mug, turning on your kettle, and tossing teaspoons of sugar in your cup for your morning tea as if you were on autopilot.

silence had surrounded you for far too long, you needed some form of sound to keep you sane from staying up all night and leaving you alone with your thoughts to just take over. sounds from the television hummed through the quaint air of your apartment in the lowest possible volume, just beneath the whistling of the tea kettle atop your stove.

you poured out the boiling hot water as your eyes followed the way the tea steeped through the liquid like a spreading storm.

the doorbell rang then, causing your head to swirl towards your door with slight confusion filling your expression. who would even come by so early in the morning?

the floorboards of your apartment creaked at your light steps as you trod towards the door, almost flinching at the cold surface of the handle as you unlocked it. you pulled the door open. there was that infamous morning chill in the autumn air that bit at your bare arms and legs. the heat from your apartment escaped at the motion as your breath hitched within your throat.

he looked out of breath and filled with fearful tension as his broad shoulders relaxed a bit at your sight. his usual soft brown locks that are always styled was tangled and woven into each other like a basket weave. hell, he looked as if he rushed immediately here the moment he woke up, all disheveled and almost desperate. poor guy didn’t even think to put on a coat before coming.

what the hell is he doing here?

“iwa—?” you attempted to say out loud in a harsh whisper that could barely leave your body in the first place. and yet, your voice disappeared into his chest as he pulls you into him, warmth engulfing you like burning ember.

you swallowed the lump forming in your throat as you froze. call it shock or just plain confusion but you couldn’t bring yourself to move your arms from the way iwaizumi’s embrace trapped them to your sides. just the plain sensation of the heat rising from his skin was enough to simmer down your awe as you finally managed to wrap your arms around him.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters into your shoulder.

you captured your bottom lip between your teeth. “i’m sorry too,” you say in the same matter, yet your voice almost sounded hoarse from the dryness in your throat. “i should’ve told you the truth.”

“and i shouldn’t have said those things that i said to you...”

a response would usually follow right after, but you couldn’t piece together the correct words and all of the nuanced phrases in your head to say into the air. your thoughts were too far cluttered and chaotic to even say anything more other than, “it’s okay.”

iwaizumi could only pull you in closer, hold you tighter, and leave his arms around you as if he feared that you would disappear out of his reach if he were to let go even in the slightest. he made the mistake of letting you go that one night many years ago and he has learned his lesson since them. he’s not going to take any more chances.

you two have been in each other’s arms for a while now, but you couldn’t find the strength in you to let go. you haven’t felt iwaizumi’s hugs in so long that perhaps you wanted to savor it a bit longer as well. like a little treat—a reward of a few minutes of peace after a thunderstorm of misunderstanding where all that’s left is the aroma of lingering petrichor of bittersweet nothings. you would like to call this a small victory, but something was off.

“iwa,” you say once you finally pulled yourself into your senses, “what’s wrong?”

“i did something bad, (y/n). i fucked up.”

you pull away from him slightly, just enough to be able to look at him in the eye but still be in the comfort of his arms. “what happened?”

“i was so fucking stupid, i shouldn’t have agreed to go with satomi.” oh, you thought as the words left his mouth. you pursed your lips together, forcing yourself to lock your gaze onto him as he spoke. “i ended up getting drunk and telling her everything that happened by accident.”

it’s okay, i already know. i already know, i already know. the words rang inside your head as you fought to say the words, but nothing was coming out. you did nothing wrong, it’s okay, it’s okay. there was so much hurt and betrayal lacing iwaizumi’s copper eyes that you feared anything you say (regardless if it was in his favor) would obliterate everything that just happened into dust. seriously, how bad would it sound telling a person that you were already aware of what they did? iwaizumi already had so many trust issues that you were treading on thin ice right now.

it really all came down to the question: do what’s right or do what’s easy?

right or easy, right or easy?

for years you have been choosing the easy route to undermine your problems. you always thought to yourself, if you had ignored the problem long enough, eventually it’ll all go away. it might have worked for the tiniest of things, but you should’ve known it would never work when you were fucking up other people’s lives from your own selfishness.

you didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

“we ended up sleeping together.”

you scrunched your brows in confusion, “what?”

did satomi lie then? did they actually sleep together?

“i-i don’t even remember how it all happened!” iwaizumi exclaimed in such urgency. he certainly didn’t want to make the gap between you two any bigger, “all i remember was that we kissed but before i knew it, i woke up to her in my bed but she was fully clothed.”

you sigh with a huff, trying to piece together the disarrayed parts together as you recalled bokuto’s words from last night, satomi doesn’t lie when it comes to sleeping around. the sentence wandering your thoughts as the boy before you continue to ramble. so maybe satomi didn’t lie after all, “listen, iwa—”

“you gotta believe me, (y/n), i didn’t mean to do it. when i said that i still love you the last time we texted i meant it—”

“haji, i said listen!” you huffed as you grabbed his arm. the sudden name change was enough to shut him up and possibly cause a surging red tint to his ears. you found it adorable, but you had to cut him some slack since you hadn’t called him that since high school. “last night i was with akaashi and bokuto.”

iwaizumi was already making a face before you could even start. “why were you with them?”

“just hear me out okay?” you pleaded.

he saw the aggression in your eyes and immediately shut up, nodding for you to continue.

“while i was with them, satomi texted us about everything that happened. she said that you guys only made out and didn’t do anything beyond that.” you explain, watching the slight relief softening his expression, “she ended up just sleeping over instead that’s why she was in your bed.”

you didn’t expect him to say anything when you finished your thought. it was a lot to sudden comprehend as you two just stood there waiting, swallowed up in your own thoughts.

“don’t blame yourself, okay?” you attempted to break the silence, “what satomi did was wrong.”

iwaizumi’s wandering gaze flickered back to you, fist curling up into a tight ball until his knuckles turned marble white. but as quickly as he felt the aching of his nail digging into his palm did he let go and let his shoulders drop. he sighs while he ran his hand through his tangled hair. he didn’t know what to say and the silence was punishing.

you parted your lips slightly as the words tickled your tongue. “this, um, might be too much to ask and you don’t have to say yes, but we need your help with something.”

“who’s we?”

“bokuto, akaashi, kaori, and the rest of my team.” you answer truthfully, “we’re trying to get satomi to face the consequences.”

iwaizumi nods, not hesitating for a second. “alright, i’ll do it.”

well that was easier than you thought.

you held back an amused laugh, hiding your smile behind your hand as you pull away from him. you made your way back to your kitchen as you had forgotten about your cup of tea from earlier.

“but...” iwaizumi trailed behind you as you sipped from your mug. “i was the one who made a move on her first.”

“oh,” you say. you definitely didn’t know about that small detail that sent ivy-like jealousy through your veins, “i mean... you were drunk so it makes sense.” you tried to justify without making your envy too obvious.

you turned away from him, fearing that he could see right through you.

“i kissed her thinking it was you,” he states.

your eyes widen then, slapping your cheeks that heated by the second. there was a grip around your swiftly beating heart, aching within your ribcage as you attempted to calm the roaring serendipities that threatened to bloom prematurely.

a composed sigh leaves you as you pull yourself together, turning back around to face iwaizumi with a meek smile. “cool,” you mused awkwardly as your brain search rapidly for a way to change the subject. iwaizumi moved closer to you, sending you into a mild panic, “have you had breakfast yet?” you asked out of the blue.

but before you could even fathom what he was doing, he cups your face between his hands and pulls you in.

your heart flutters and stops when iwaizumi pressed his lips against yours, soft and delicate as if you were the most fragile thing within his grasp. and you were. his touch against your jaw was light as it trailed down your neck. he could feel the raging ichor that soared through your veins like a wildfire while your hand that was splayed against his broad chest could feel the thumping of his heart against your own palm.

you pull away from him as he says, “no, i haven’t.” but it wasn’t to let him answer, rather, it was the thought that iwaizumi came second place again.

fun facts! —

yes. y/n did kiss both bokuto and iwaizumi within a span of a couple hours 💀 queen shit fr

after iwaizumi left, y/n immediately facetimed kaori and akaashi and told them what happened

it was definitely awkward between bokuto and iwaizumi when they saw each other, but it was harder to avoid satomi

(also by saying “iwaizumi came second place” means who was able to kiss y/n first not who won her feelings over)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[gingerale2017]

Line Without a Hook

(Song Lyric Day)

Cresswell - day 4 of the tlc ship weeks

Song: Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery.

A/N: sorry that its so late, I just was blasted with things these past weeks, but don't worry, I have it all coming. This is unedited so enjoy me fangirling about this song and cresswell. If you haven't listened to it, do so now.

Thorne never really gave a damn about the way Cress acted when they were alone. Usually, she would act super silly and he knew that she was being herself… and it was adorable. And whenever her small hands would curl around his, Thorne could feel his heartbeat grow faster. She usually did it when they were alone which he never understood why but he appreciated it.

Now Cress was reading something off her port in low voice, stopping to giggle occasionally. But yet again, another thought popped into his head, like it has been all day. Did she like it when he was away? If he was somehow hurt and scarred would she love him the same? He could feel his thoughts running around and he craved silence.

Shaking his head, Thorne turned back to the movie he was watching earlier but smiling whenever Cress would giggle. She was a pond and he was an ocean.

“Captain!” spades, his emotions felt like explosions whenever she was around, “look at this!”

He got up and walked over to where she was sitting in the cockpit, “what is it?”

Her shining blue eyes lit up with excitement when she lifted the port to his face. It was a video of a kitten befriending a parrot, “aww that’s adorable,” he said.

Cress smiled more, “I found a way to kill the sound so you don’t have to hear the people in the background. It makes it better!” He imagined how life would be without her, and he couldn’t.

He was already a wreck when he was without her. He needed her to stay.

He remembered when Cress cried that one time by a lake in the American Republic. His bones practically broke at the sound of her sobbing. Thorne worried if it was something that he said that made her feel like a burden earlier. If only he could take it all back, he swore that he would pull her from the tide.

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

The wind was pounding on Thorne’s back, both literally and metaphorically. Three emergency letusmosis outbreaks recently happened in different parts of th world and he didn’t know how he was going to get there in time. Plus, Cress is showing symptoms of yet another illness…. Honestly, he felt a little overwhelmed, so he thought he would just stare at the horizon for a minute and breath.

A sneeze came from behind him and he turned to find Cress covering her nose but looking very healthy. A slither of hope coursed through him because he hated seeing her sick.

“Hey, you were out here for a while, and honestly I was kind of a wreck when I couldn’t find you,” she said, a small smile curving her lips. Thorne smiled back.

“Sorry, I thought I was out here for only a couple of minutes, spades time really does fly.”

“Next time I need you to tell me or stay before I start searching the ship,” she teased, giggling adorably.

“Ok, you got it,” he walked towards her and grabbed her hand, making their way back to the ship.

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Thorne knew he was fast asleep because of where he is. This scene has replayed a thousand different times, a thousand different ways in his dreams, especially when he was unconscious.

Cress’s hear-shaped face appeared before him, with round eyes and a big smile. But he felt they weren’t the only people in the room, that there was someone else watching him, controlling him.

Is it worth it? Is it worth it? The same phrase swirled around his head, but they weren’t his, “Tell me, is it worth it!” he said as he plunged a dagger into Cress’s stomach.

Her blue eyes widened with shock and betrayal and her smile, her adorable, gorgeous smile, disappear. He felt tears stroll down his cheek and she began to drop, and he lowered her, “Cress?!”

Thorne woke up with a gasp to find Cress, healthy and awake beside him, her eyes glinting with worry instead of sadness in the port-screen’ light, “Carswell? Are you alright?”

He tried to breathe normally as he brought her into a hug. He saw people dancing on the port and he smiled a bit. Pulling away, he stroked Cress’s cheek with his thumb. She leaned into the touch. She began to hum a lullaby that calmed him immediately and he held her tighter.

“Oh- do you want me to stop?”

“No, keep going please,” she continued with her lovely voice that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard and sighed deeply.

She’s- she is a lady, the lady of dreams, and he was just a boy, a messed up boy who never committed himself to a serious relationship.

No, Cress is very much a lady that deserved everything good, and Thorne was just a line without a-.

“I love you so much,” he blurted. Thorne was sure that her cheeks heated as she stopped her melody.

“I-I love you too, Carswell.”

“Did you know that I’m a wreck when I’m without you?”

“Me too, I need you here to stay,” Thorne felt relief at her words.

“I broke all my bones that day I found you crying at the lake. And basically, every time you cry, I hate to see you in pain.”

“Oh, I-” she started but Thorne continued.

“I was talking a lot that day and- well was it something I said that made you feel like you’re a burden?”

“Captain, no it wasn’t something you said it was… Sybill,” she paused for a second, “I was thinking about how much I missed in life when I was on the satellite and I hated the thought about that witch still impacting my life today!”

Her voice wavered and she took another second to prepare. Thorne pulled her closer and placed his chin on her head, “shh, it’s okay, don’t cry. If I ever say anything I say in future I take it back,” he kissed her head, “and pull you from the tide.”

Tagging: @kaiderforever @kaider-is-my-otp @just2bubbly @winterrhayle @jacihayle @deprivedmusicaljunkie @greasicookies @greenalmond @shelbylmkaider @shellyseashell @zephyr-thedragon @the-wee-woo-rita @salt-warrior @cerenoya @cinderswrench @strawberry-seraph @ladyvesuvia

[prof-peach]

Has any wild pokemon came to your place to seek help, and if so what was it like?

Well yes actually, because of our location and the distance between us and johto, we get a lot of Pokemon who stop for a rest between land masses at our lab. If they come in injured from battle, or sick from bad weather on their travels, the other Pokemon that hang around the island will pick up on it, and direct them to one of the professors, usually whoever’s closest at the time.

We get an awful lot of water types as you’d expect but I don’t really deal with them, that’s Professor Grey’s area, he’s not nervous in water like I am so he’s able to give more accurate and effective care. I will help from time to time but only really on the little land dwelling ones. The oddest water type we had turn up was a lotad. Hear me out, we’re no where near Hoenn, like at all, we don’t get them in johto, at least not wild, and the ones we get given are Pokemon we know and have helped, so we knew it wasn’t one of those. This little thing washes up on the beach along the north side, and if you’ve read anything about the island before you’ll know the North is fenced off, a zone for Pokemon to go to get away from the public, and is generally quite hostile, and off limits to guests without explicit permission and a guide. So this Lotad is found, luckily by a reasonable middle aged Ursaring, and suddenly we get a knock on the door in the middle of the night, this big mountain of a bear Pokemon holding the smallest little lotad, the thing was full of seawater and had burns form the salt and mould forming. He spent a week and a half in the ICU with strict climate control and a course of medication tailored to his species, all the while we’re all scratching our heads about how he got to us. We’d had no visitors so he couldn’t be a stray or released Pokemon, the weather was good so no storm could have carried him to us, he was alone, no trainer, no friends, no family. Ships pass through but could he have jumped off and ended up with us? We all have our theories, I personally think he got carried a fair way from home by a flying Pokemon, and dropped by accident. Either way he’s since become the little champion of our care program, he’s recovered in leaps and bounds and lives a very comfortable life in th entropic house, in the indoor pools with some Relicanth and the other little lotads, a few surskit. Happy Pokemon for sure now, we’ve had a porygon translate what he has to say but he doesn’t remember anything before waking up in the labs care unit. We just count him as the luckiest Pokemon we know, considering the terrible shape he came to us in. Must have been floating around the ocean for days.

We also get a heap load of flying types that rest between locations during migration, some of those do seem to have the odd issue which we tend to, our favourites are the migrating Fletchling that fly on through for the winter, they give a fiery display, filling the sky with little embers. Sure, fire risk, but also consider this, beautiful? We have water Pokemon on standby during this time, and usually anything that catches is caught pretty quickly. I do find the flying types will return. When some come through, and we notice them and help where we can, they’ll eventually leave to continue their journey, and then a year later they come back again, this time with families, friends, some even bring their whole flock, just because we built some trust with them that one time. We have pidgeot that repeatedly return to the island, all because we’ve patched up like several members of their family, they’re regulars to us now, and even between seasons of migration, they’ll return to see if we can help, or offer information should they encounter issues. I must say once one knows about you, the rest do pretty fast. I will forever remember fondly, gardening in peace, not a single problem to be dealt with, and then the sky went black and I couldn’t see the ground anymore, because SO MANY murkrow had landed all at once, they blocked out the light, they covered every post, every piece of dirt, all by demolished the berries I’d been growing all season. Why you may ask? Because I had hatched one random egg I found on my travels, had no idea at the time what it was, and I carried this thing around with me everywhere. When it hatched it was a little Murkrow, a little different in appearance, with a striking flash of blue under his little wings. I gave the thing a good start and sent it on it’s way. No big deal.

Wrong.

This little one was a lost egg from a boss Honchkrow’s clutch, how did that big boss bird know it was his child? He was the start of the variation, the bright blue under his wings. So yeah, he told them all about us, and how to get to the island, and we ended up with a HUGE amount of them, trying to bring things to repay the debt. Some found shiny items, others berries, unusual mushrooms, neat looking twigs, bottle caps, pins, buttons. To this day some of those Pokemon still hang out here, kind of dug it enough to want to stick around I guess. We don’t mind, they’re actually really good natured, and helpful too!

We get the odd dragon fly by, alwasy alerts the island’s heavy hitters when one touches down. Recently we’ve had Garchomp breeding here, they seem to like the mountains, and our resident female was putting out her siren song for a mate all spring. Summer they paired up, laid eggs, now we have little Gibble running around somewhere safe. Last actual dragon type to stop in for some help was a rather thin and dull coloured looking Charizard, had flown too far, exerted itself too much, came crashing into the labs big front doors, nearly took a patient clean out, definetly needed to replace some tables after that. With some good dinners and a bit of TLC they got fat and strong again, and went on their way.

I think once you help out a few Pokemon, word spreads, we get a lot of unusual clients, most of which have stowed away on passing ships, coming to us for information, support, and care. For instance last week we had a Krabby who came in off a cargo ship, swam to the island, made its way to the lab, SAT IN THE WAITING ROOM, legit was happy to wait, all because he had a broken claw and couldn’t get it off to make way for a new one to regrow. We helped him out and he went on home, we got a ship to pull in to return him home luckily.

This week there’s been a Magnezone and a Jolteon magnetised together, they asked for a lift from a visiting trainer who obliged, they’ve since been seperated and sent on their way, back home safe to the wild. Happens from time to time. Who knows what next week will bring haha. Every days interesting here I must say that much.