#wall hung commode

[esselbathfittings]

Wall Hung

"Wall Hung" refers to an elegant design feature where an object or fixture is mounted directly onto a wall, creating a floating effect. This style not only maximizes floor space but also adds a modern, sleek touch to any room, seamlessly integrating functionality with contemporary aesthetics.

[arjunp99]

Wall Hung Toilets - Shop Wall Mounted Commode For Your Bathroom

Wall mounted commode is directly mounted to the wall, find an exclusive range of wall hung toilets online on Astral Bathware website.

[bestsanitaryware]

Are Wall-Hung Toilets Safe for Your Bathroom? Let's Find Out!

You might wonder if wall-hung toilets are safe. The answer is yes, as long as they're installed properly. These toilets are hung on the wall and can save space. When set up by professionals, they're stable and secure.

What Makes Them Safe?

Strong Installation: They're firmly attached to a solid support system inside the wall, which makes them strong and able to handle weight.

Weight Capacity: Good wall-hung toilets are tested to hold a lot of weight, even more than a person's weight. Look for trusted brands to ensure they're safe.

Expert Installation: Get a professional plumber or contractor to install them. They'll know how to make sure everything is secure and safe.

Other Good Things:

More Space: Wall-hung toilets can make your bathroom look bigger because they don't touch the floor. This space can also help people who might need extra room.

Easy Cleaning: They're easy to clean underneath since there's nothing blocking the floor.

Keep an Eye Out:

Maintenance: Like anything, wall-hung toilets need regular care. If there's a problem, it might take more work to fix since the parts are hidden in the wall.

The Bottom Line:

Wall-hung toilets are safe if they're set up right by professionals and looked after. They're a great choice for a modern bathroom. Just make sure you go for a good brand, follow the installation instructions, and get help from experienced plumbers. With these steps, you can enjoy the benefits of a wall-hung toilet without any worries about safety.

[raajrajasharma]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

You bite your lip as you look at your reflection. The ribbed top clings to your figure, the razorback cut covers your cleavage but your lack of layers if obvious. If your dad was home, he’d freak out.

What the hell are you wearing? Put a bra on! 

You’re tired of telling him you’re an adult. You’re over his distrust. You’ve always been a good a daughter. What have you ever done to let him down? You kept your GPA high enough and your halfway through college. You're a hot commodity. Yes, that’s exactly what you are. 

You turn and push out your bum, running your hands over the curve. The TikToks might call it a glow up. It’s that classic era of a woman’s life when she comes into her own. When she fills out just enough, when she knows the power she has. Well, you think that’s what it is. You don’t know, it’s all still a bit confusing. 

Hard to be your own woman when you still live at home, but daddy pays tuition so you play by his rules. Well, it’s summertime and you don’t need to turn in a 4.0 to make him happy until Fall. This is going to be your summer. No studying, no lame ass book clubs, you’re breaking free. Well, you’re gnawing on the bars. 

Your phone buzzes and draws you away from your narcissistic revery. Before, you weren’t really into yourself. You wore a school uniform and your hair was always the same style, nails clean and cut, no makeup. Your coming-of-age at least let you take a bit more control over your autonomy. Your dad couldn’t really keep you from spending the money you made at your campus work study. 

Another text from Shelby. You don’t click on the preview. It’s worse to leave her on read than to just ignore the notifications. She’s a good friend but you think you’ve outgrown her. The last time you hung out, she just wanted to play MarioKart. You wanted to go out and do stuff but she hates public places. You’re no more fond of strangers but you wanted a bikini. You ended up staying in and ordering off Amazon. 

You put the phone down as the whir of a weed whacker sounds outside your window. You go to it and look out the pane. You can’t help the curl of your lips. You watch your neighbour trimming the edges of his lawn. He’s overly diligent about his landscaping. While many others hire gardeners, he’s certain to tend to every inch of his lot. 

Mr. Barnes doesn’t seem the type for half-measures. You like that about him. No, you love it. You feel giddy just watching him. 

You spin and lean against the wall with a sigh. You have a terrible crush. On an older man. For all the novels and movies you’ve seen, it’s a common trope, but that’s fiction and this is real life. You can’t lust after your neighbour. Especially not him. 

Just because you feel a certain kind of way, doesn’t mean you need to do anything about it. You can still dream. You can pretend when you’re home alone or at night when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep. You feel a tingle flow through you and shudder. 

You get a bad idea. Nothing’s going to happen, but you just want him to notice you. Just a little. Just for a moment. 

You turn to the mirror again and touch the sides of your white denim shorts, slightly distressed for effect. You wiggle your hips and clutch onto your courage. You spin and flit out before it can elude you. 

You scramble downstairs and stop to push your feet into your slides. You stop and take a breath, centering yourself on your act. You pull open the front door and flurry through, squealing as you scramble across the porch and nearly tripping down the steps. You throw up your hands, shaking them as you commit to your act. 

“Ew, ew, ew,” you chant shrilly and the whirring trimmer stops. “Oh god!” 

You hear a deep breath and a grunt. You put your hands to your head and cringe, turning to look at Mr. Barnes as he squints in your direction. You turn your grimace to a sheepish smile and drop your arms, rubbing one shyly, certain to push up your chest with the act. 

“Hi,” you poke out the tip of your tongue, “sorry I...” you laugh at yourself, “there’s a spider in my bedroom. I panicked.” 

He nods and squares his jaw, shifting the trimmer as he grips it. He comes towards the low picket fence between your yards. You drop your hands and hook your thumbs in your shorts pockets, rocking back and forth. 

“Sorry, didn’t meant to bother,” you push your shoulders to your ears. His eyes twitch, barely resisting a skim of your figure. Instead, he looks past you to the long drive at the other side of your lot. 

“Dad’s not around?” He asks warily, his voice rocky and deep, just like you hear it in your head. 

You shake your head, batting your lashes at him. Him and your father don’t get along. Maybe you have some daddy issues but you really don’t care. He’s just so hot. His slightly mussed silver hair and his still toned arms. He might have some years on you but there’s no guys your age who look that good. 

“Working,” you pout, “he won’t kill them either. He just puts them out in the yard and they come right back in.” 

“Mm,” he hums and leans the trimmer against the fence, “want me to take care of it?”

Yes, I want you to take care of me. Focus.

You let your eyes round and push your lip out, “if you don’t mind. They give me the heebies.” 

“Heebies,” he repeats the word flatly, “huh.” 

He comes around the fence and lets himself in through the gate. You meet him at the walk and step in front of him, leading him up the front steps. You can’t remember the last time he came over. Not since he moved in. Yeah, his brief acquaintance with your father ended in a city prospector measuring the lots and relaying the property line. Oof, your dad still hasn’t let that go. 

You’re overly aware of him behind you as you climb the steps. You hope he’s looking at your ass. Those shorts hug it in just the right way.  

The front door is still open from your feigned escape. You step inside and habitually leave your slides on the mat. Mr. Barnes pauses and steps out of his workboots. 

“Um, it’s in my room,” you point up the stairs, almost shaking. You didn’t really plan this far. 

“Right,” he follows your direction and you stay a few feet back, keeping up your frightful act. 

He climbs the stairs and you tell him which way to go. He enters your room and looks around. Shoot. Your head is empty. Something about him just makes you dumb. 

“It was in the corner,” you lie, “it must’ve skittered off. Oh no! You think it’s hiding somewhere.” 

“Probably won’t see it again,” he shrugs. “Keep a shoe by your bed.” 

You hum and nod. Your eyes linger on the small vibe on your nightstand. Whoops. You kinda hope he sees it too. He faces you and clears his throat. 

“Eucalyptus or peppermint,” he says, “those will keep them away. Spray a little around your windows and door.” He points around the walls. He looks a little out of place among your purple walls and your fluffy aesthetic, yet not at all. You can just see him on your bed. You gulp as you realise he’s still talking. “All good?” 

“Uh, yes, d—sir,” you smile and clench your teeth tight around your near slip. Had you really almost called him dad? Oh shit. Yeah, that can just be tucked away and never thought of again. “Thanks for trying.” 

“Yeah, no worries,” he shrugs and moves towards you. 

You just stand there. He arches a brow and gesture past you. You blink and giggle, “oh, uh, sorry. Thanks again.” 

“Mm, I’ll let myself out,” he says as he brushes by you. Just the scent of his sweat has you flustered. 

“Sure,” you murmur after him, your heart fluttering. “Bye, Mr. Barnes.” 

You listen to him go and as the front door shuts, you spin and float over to fall onto your bed. You lay face down and groan. Ugh, that only made everything so much worse. You want him! You need him! You lift your head and reach for the vibe on the nightstand. Hopefully the battery in this thing still has some juice. 

[ranticore]

since harpies in ISOK can understand the concept of scarcity and luxury, i was wondering, beside rare colours, what else humans can make that harpies would walue? commodities of some sort? more sophisticated stuff like embroidery and jewelry? or maybe something more artistic? like would a painting impress them? also, are common cobs and pens allowed to have personal belongings? or is it only a king/tiercel privilege?

so when it comes to wealth, harpies measure theirs in terms of flock prosperity - the very existence of a tiercel is a display of wealth, for example, but among normal harpies they also can show off how they're flourishing by spending time on art and personal grooming - there is a big emphasis on appearances (if a bird's diet is bad or lacking, their feathers won't grow in right or they will have seize lines in them - so a clean and well-feathered appearance is vital to this display of Look How I Prosper). they always want to show off

that's where the human wealth comes in as well. they understand that human wealth is displayed differently, with physical luxuries and riches. if a human society values gold, then the harpies want gold too, but not because they intrinsically value gold. they value it because humans value it and this is a way to show off to humans (why limit your showing off to just harpies anyway? everyone should know how amazing you are)

because the human-derived wealth is made valuable only in its relationship with humans, it means that it's also culturally specific. gold's an easy one but let's say the human culture has certain dyes as markers of wealth. the harpies now want those dyes and colours. art, literature, even large amounts of crops and livestock - these will all be coveted by harpies who want to show the humans that they are wealthy.

would a painting impress them? if we say this is a human culture where a gorgeous painting in beautiful realistic oil paint style is something that a lord would commission for his great house, yes, that painting would be impressive. as impressive as a rock would be if that also hung on the wall of the great house, by the standards of Wealth. but harpies are artists too and would be able to appreciate a nice composition or good colourwork as much as any human might intrinsically enjoy a work of art even if it was monetarily worthless

any harpy can have personal belongings, there aren't any rules against that or anything. many flocks have no king (or tiercels) and harpies still wanna show off

all this works in reverse as well! a human falconer who wants to win the privilege of a harpy egg from a wild flock will need to show off their own wealth to the harpies. gold & fine art are all well and good, but sometimes a falconer has to speak the harpies' language, as it were, and come visiting with a "tiercel"(=any very beautiful person dressed in beautiful clothes) hanging off their arm.

[rowniebow]

mercy | newt scamander x male reader

Summary: You and Newt have been put in a sticky situation. Newt has been the hot commodity lately, but you were all too ready to bargain. 

Warnings: Angst

Reader: Male, muggle

Parining(s): Newt Scamander x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

masterlist

Your eyes focused on the cold cement ground you sat upon. Your knees were pulled to your chest. Your head was pounding from all the stress and commotion. You couldn’t help but wonder where you would be as of right now if you had denied the strange British man and stayed working at your nine-to-five factory job. Would you still reside in your pathetic, run down apartment across from Gerda who shared her butter and you shared your eggs with? Would Jerry still be belittling you about how lazy you are at your job? Yes. Most likely Jerry would still be an asshole.

But, most of all, would Newt be in this situation if it weren’t for you? You can’t help but think he would be sitting at home taking care of his creatures if it weren’t for you agreeing to join him. That, at least, is what you said to convince yourself you were okay with what was all happening. Convincing yourself you were at fault for the bad things so your “solution” to the issue - this decision you were making for the both of them - wouldn’t be as painful.

What were you to do, though? When someone shares their most vulnerable feelings with you, and you share your own, are you really supposed to just watch them up and leave without you when their hand is extended as Newt’s was? When they’re offering you an out of your miserable life, and instead an invitation to what you assumed would be a nice quiet life with someone you loved and doing things you loved with them? Are you supposed to say no to joining the person you have grown to care the most about? 

You were yanked out of your thoughts as the loud metal doors were peeled open by two large, muscular men clad in armor and wands out ready to strike if you made even one off move. You couldn’t help but wonder if all that was truly necessary for you: a small man with no capacity to fight back. Good lord, you couldn’t even get rid of spiders. All you could do was ignore them and wish them on their merry way. 

You stood, the shackles hung off of your wrists and ankles. The rusted chain clattered against the cement floors, scratching against your already pounding head. You trudged with the two large men trailing close behind you. They poked at your back every once in a while when you were dragging from exhaustion. 

You three arrived at the large wooden double doors. They creaked as the men opened it to reveal you to the man that hasn’t left your mind in years. 

You took in every aspect of Newt with a gasp. His arms were limp and pale from all the hours they had been hung up against the wall. He was on his knees, but his ankles, bloody and bruised, sat chained to the wall just as his wrists were. Blood drained out of them, you were sure they were tingling with discomfort. He didn’t look up, leaving you to look at his knotted, messy hair. Strands flew everywhere, it didn’t even have its usual shape and part. His dozens of layers of clothes had been removed. He stood limply in his tousled white button down and brown straight legged pants. Both clothing items were ripped at the seams and ruffled beyond the familiarity of Newt’s well-dressed and ironed appearance. 

“Oh, Newtie,” You groaned at the sight of him. Rage filled your veins. You suddenly began to rethink your bargain, wondering if these awful people who had already done this to him would keep their part and let him go after all this. 

Newt looked up with wide eyes at the sound of your voice echoing off of the brick walls. His eyes were swollen and red. His cheeks were patterned in purple and red. Hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He struggled at the chains, trying to stand up and move towards you but, of course, he was to no avail. “Y/N,” he called out hoarsely, tears threatening his eyes. You ran towards him, the guards obviously wanting to stop you but they let it happen knowing what was to come. 

“Newt, goodness, my sweet,” You cooed, lightly rubbing your hand over his wounded cheeks as you examined him. He winced slightly as you grazed the open skin but overall he refused to look away from you, shocked to see you in front of him. “Are you okay? Lord- obviously you’re not. It’s okay, alright? I-It’s gonna be over soon, okay?” You hushed your tone, wanting to save all your words for him and only him. 

His bloodied wrists caught your eye, “Can we- Can we please get this bullshit off of him? God,” You hollered out into the echoed room. The chains released themselves, magically, of course, and Newt fell into your arms. He struggled to snake his own limp limbs around your waist. You felt his shaking body and breath and nearly broke down. 

You continued to hold him close, a hand keeping his head in the crook of your neck and another keeping him upright in your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you continuously whispered into his hair that was still soft as ever despite it all. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 

“Now,” A voice boomed from behind you. “Would you like to break the news to him, dearest? Or, shall I?” 

You ignored the threatening voice - the voice from the man who’s at fault for the crimes committed against the two. You only continued whispering your hushed apologies. You reassured Newt, in between quiet sniffs, that he was going to be okay and that it would all be over soon. That he wouldn’t have to worry anymore and he could continue to forget this. 

Newt, listening to your every word and absorbing it (grateful that he gets to hear it again at all), peaked over your shoulder at the presence who had walked in. Neither of the two had seen the man’s face. He stayed hidden under his black, hooded cloak. A mask sat over his face, keeping anyone from seeing him. 

Newt watched the man, blurred from his tears, take several steps in the room. After hours and hours of the torturing done to him by this man, he couldn’t even find the strength in him to do much more than look and groan. He happily let you rock yourselves back and forth as you chanted comforting phrases into his ear for only him to hear, and ran your fingers through his hair, and left your warm heavy hand in the middle of his back and rubbed it in small circles. 

“I suppose I’ll take that as a plea for me to tell him.” The voice boomed out once more. 

Your eyes couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You quietly sobbed, muttering, “Please, don’t be mad. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 

“The little muggle has offered himself in exchange for your peace. For your freedom.” You could hear a smile in the man’s voice as he spoke of your bargain. You could also very clearly hear a sharp gasp from Newt, as he began to moan in disagreement. “Yes, we haven’t decided what to do with him, yet, but-! I am a generous man, myself, so I have decided to make the deal with him.” 

Newt struggled but managed to push himself away from your loving hold. “No, I-I don’t agree with this.” He managed to squeak out. His ragged voice from all the screaming you had heard him do from down the corridor shook and let a cold shake travel through your spine. 

“Yes, well,” The man with the booming voice behind you turned and made his way out of the door. “I thought I’d be kind and let you say goodbye. We’ll be back for you soon enough.” His uncaring voice sent rage through Newt. His fist clenched but he was too weak to do much of anything. 

The door slammed shut leaving you two alone with one another. “No,” Newt began but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“Love, I can’t let them hurt you anymore than they already have. Or the creatures. You get to leave with them, I made sure of that.”

“N-No, but,” He gulped, doing his best to soothe his scratchy throat. “I-I don’t get to leave with you,”

“That’s okay-,”

“No! It’s n-not okay.” His eyelids fluttered and his mouth twitched at the ends.

“Yes, it is,” You moved your hands to hold his cheeks. His head struggled to stay up with the weight of gods pushing him down. “You’re gonna be okay and the creatures are going to be okay and that’s what matters.”

“No! I-I-I won’t be okay!” He let out a pained sob. The waterfalls escaped his green eyes.

“You will. And you’ll live a nice quiet life like you said you would.” The smile that graced your lips was filled with nothing but pain and Newt saw right through that.

He stayed silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be okay without you. I don’t want to live a ‘nice quiet life’ without you. That-That is just no life at all, one without you.” 

Salty drops of water streamed down your face at his words. What could you even say to that? You’ve been telling yourself you are doing this for him but it’s not as if you would be anything less than angry if he were doing the same for you. 

“There-There must be a-another way.” Newt shook his head, refusing to believe this was the reality he was going to have to accept. He kept his eyes trained on you the whole time as he took in every detail, anxious this was going to be the last time he saw your face. He absorbed your skin and where it wrinkled. He memorized every divet in your imperfect perfect complexion. How your eyes were swollen and red from rubbing them all day. The way the light reflected off of your mesmerizing eyes. How insanely beautiful you looked in every way all of the time. He couldn’t believe he scored someone as gorgeous as you, inside and out. Fully and completely beautiful. 

“Newt,” You whispered his name, afraid if you said it any louder then the name would escape the two of you and run off somewhere it shouldn't be. “I love you. You are going to be okay. You are resilient and stubborn - I know you can do it.”

“I-I don’t want to, Y/N.” He sighed taking you in. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered as the doors burst open again with a slam. You rushed back into his arms for one final moment where you could feel safe.

“Please, don’t leave me. Don’t do this to me,” 

“I love you so much, Newtie. To the moon and back.”

“I-I love you, too.” 

The hushed words exchanged between the two were cut short as the big men came to pry you and Newt off of each other. You continued to fight to reach him, but your strength was nothing in comparison and you were only left reaching your hand out as the space between you two grew. Newt continued to scream and holler, even gathering the will to stand and jog after them. But, of course, he was overpowered by yet another unnecessarily strong guard. 

The last thing you saw of Newt was him on his knees, screaming your name and pleas for mercy.

[dilf-din]

for the bed sharing prompts: “the bed is big enough for two people without touching, but unfortunately there is only one blanket” + rebelcaptain 🥰

I’m afraid I went overboard…. 🙊 consider this my late whumptober contribution

Rebelcaptain (Jyn x Cassian)

WC: 2k

Warnings: whump, hurt/comfort, some medical situations, emotionally stunted Jyn

“How much further, Bodhi?” Jyn called through the comms with gritted teeth.

“Just under a click until you’re there,” his voice came back with a touch of static.

“I can make it,” Cassian strained beside her, arm slung over her neck as he tried and failed to not put his weight on her.

“There’s a bunker every fifteen clicks,” Bodhi called out again, garbled but intelligible.

“I can’t make it fifteen more,” Cass breathed heavily, his forehead dripping with sweat. He heaved his good leg forward in sync with Jyn’s, behind him trailed a mangled ankle that he hadn’t had time to fully examine. Beneath his weight, Jyn was operating on adrenaline, senses on high alert for any more lurking threats as they hauled through the jungle as quickly as possible, her small frame propped up by an iron will.

Back on the ship, Kay and Bodhi watched the pale yellow pings of their friends on the radar and traced the map spread out before them with careful fingers.

“Your next clearing, to the right,” Bodhi instructed.

Jyn swallowed down her exhaustion looking for one last burst of energy to get them there. They had happened upon a grenade that never detonated, Cassian pushing her out of the way just in time to take the brunt of the blow to his right foot. His face was turning ten shades of white beside her as she searched for a bunker.

“Where is it?” she hissed into the mouthpiece.

“Look under the stone,” was the reply, and her face almost mirrored Cassian’s in color. He hadn’t mentioned it would be underground. For just a second, she was a child again, with shaking hands and a dying lantern waiting for someone to rescue her. The Kyber that hung at her breast felt heavy with grief. She wanted desperately to pull it out and envision the face of her mother. Snap out of it, she told herself. This time would be different. This time Cassian would be with her. Bum foot or not, she knew they would be safe.

Easing him to the ground, she ran her fingers under the edge of the deep grey stone with veins of moss jutting out of the lush forest floor until her fingers caught a latch. It swung open with the slightest creak revealing a short ladder.

“Can you make it down?”

“I have three good limbs. Hopefully that’s enough,” Cassian said, voice hinting towards the smallest joke, trying to find some glimpse of humor in their situation to calm her nerves.

With a boost from Jyn, he was over the lip with his good foot, clinging to the bars with sweaty hands.

“Please don’t fall. Oh, maker, please don’t fall,” she muttered as he made the short trek down. Her eyes were wild, watching every bit of their periphery, feeling alarmingly exposed outside of the cover of the trees. Once she heard his foot hit the soil below, he called up to signal that he had made it safely. She climbed down carefully, pulling the latch shut on top of them, finding an extra lock to slide into place from the inside. Hopefully, even with the explosion earlier, no one would know they were there. They were still so far out from the base, planning on doing most of their travel there by foot.

She eased her arm under his again, and though the air was heavy and dank, she was able to breathe easier. They hobbled down a short hallway using the lights on their blasters to illuminate the packed dirt walls, seeing a switch at the edge of the tunnel.

Jyn flipped it with her elbow, and a small room lit up in front of them. In the very center was a bed big enough for two people. To the left of it sat a commode and a small washbasin near a spigot, to the right, sat a cabinet that presumably held some sort of food. Across from the bed at the wall beside her was what appeared to be a medical chest. Jyn guided Cassian to the bed and lowered him on to the mattress. He swung his leg onto it with both hands, grunting as he adjusted it. She threw off her pack and blaster, kneeling beside the chest hoping for anything helpful.

“They have bacta,” she announced victoriously, gathering a bundle of supplies in her arms and dropping them on the bed next to him. Peeling her gloves off and setting them on the ground, she ran a weak stream of water into the basin and scrubbed the sweat and grime away as best she could. She ran two rags under the water before kneeling by his side again. One she draped across his forehead to hopefully provide some relief, the other would be to clean the wound.

“Thank you,” he huffed out, tearing a packet open with his teeth and drawing out a clean syringe to prepare the baca shot.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she grimaced as she carefully unlaced his boot and eased it down his ankle.

Cassian sucked in a sharp breath and pulled the rag from his forehead to stuff between his teeth. She peeled his sock down, trying not to focus on the smell, and cuffed the bottom of his pants to get a better look.

“I’m gonna have to touch it,” she glanced up at him.

He nodded and swallowed, closing his eyes as her fingers ghosted over the very swollen joint. The good news is, there were no visible pieces of bone. If anything was broken, it was all inside, and the bacta should help set everything right, or mostly right, while they slept tonight.

She dabbed with the rag to clean the injection site before removing the tip from the needle and carefully threading it under his skin. He bit down on the rag, trying to conceal his groan until she injected the first bit of liquid and he was hit with relief. It flooded every part of his foot that felt like it was on fire just moments ago. His breathing evened out as she emptied the dose and withdrew the needle, being careful to place the tip back on before tossing it in an empty crate.

Jyn fished a wrap out of her bag and carefully wound the long strip of fabric around his ankle, securing it with a small metal clip.

“Did you bring extra socks?” she asked as she balled up her jacket to prop his foot up even farther.

“Bottom of my pack,” he pointed towards the doorway where he had dropped it.

Jyn unzipped it and fished out a pair of socks identical to the ones he had on. She eased the other boot off his foot and slipped new socks onto both feet. She was rummaging theough her own pack for something when his hand caught her shoulder, gently but firmly.

“Thank you,” his brown eyes bore into hers, begging to not be ignored.

She reached up to squeeze his hand and gave him a soft smile, “Of course.”

For all the things he had done for her, this was a drop in the bucket. He had shown her an ocean of kindness in the time they had known each other. At night, she whispered prayers for them to both have a long life ahead of them, if for nothing else, to be able to repay him, to properly thank him for pulling her back from the brink and showing her a life of purpose again. She broke the gaze they were holding and mentally built that wall a little higher. Now was hardly the time nor the place to get sentimental.

They both had packed rations, but Jyn decided to check for anything there that would prevent them from dipping into their own supplies. She stuffed the rest of the bacta into her bag before crossing the room to examine the last cabinet.

The left side had a small stockpile of ration packs. She tossed two to Cassian and set two aside for her own. The right side was bare save for a single, thin blanket. She draped it over the end of the bed, and sat on the floor to tear open her food. Cass was already halfway done with his first one, having folded the lid of the pack into a makeshift spoon.

“There’s more if you want it,” Jyn mumbled through a full mouth.

“This is fine, thank you.”

They both ate their second packs in silence before Jyn gathered the trash and tossed it into the crate with the empty syringe and whatever mess of wires had been left in there by some other party. She unclipped Cassian’s canteen and tossed it over to him.

“Drink up. We can refill as much as we need,” she said, taking a long draw of water.

A small stream dribbled down Cassian’s chin soaking his collar as he drained the last of his bottle. Jyn tossed him one of the clean rags to dry himself while she filled his canteen and rested it against his side of the bed. He was struggling to keep his eyes open as the bacta was setting in. Jyn shook the blanket out over him and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead ro check for a fever.

“Might as well get some sleep and reassess in the morning,” she stated as she circled the mattress to drop down on the side opposite him.

“I’ll be good s’new,” he slurred while his eyes were already drifting shut.

Jyn switched on a small battery powered light and chucked her boot at the switch across the room to turn off the overhead lamp, hitting it on the first try. She drew her jacket in tight around herself, expecting the temperature to drop overnight, but knowing Cass would be cold from the bacta. It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that she felt the exhaustion that seemed to have anchored itself to her after years of running. There was no sound in the room except for Cassian’s breathing, which had become a great comfort to her, especially after days like today.

She dozed off only to awake hours later with chills racking her body. She could tell by the faint patter coming down the hall that the planet had fallen into a downpour causing the temperature to drop much more drastically than it would have on a cloudless night. She scooted back to be flush with Cassian. He must’ve felt the movement, because his hand came out from under the blanket searching for her.

“You’re cold,” he said groggily.

“It’s raining.”

“C’mere.”

“It’s okay, you need the blank—“ she started, but was interrupted by him pulling her shoulder and rolling her towards him. She flipped the rest of the way, and welcomed the warmth of the blanket draping over her limbs. His arm sat securely behind her, thumb absently rubbing the small of her back.

She froze again, keeping her arms tucked tight between them. This must just be because of the drugs, she reasoned. Or maybe an unconscious response from an old lover.

“You can get comfy. I’m not going to bite,” he said softly, sensing her apprehension.

Slowly, she unwound her arms, draping one across his chest and nestling it under the edges of his jacket. The strong beat of his heart drummed against her skin, and she felt another layer of tension melting away. Tentatively, she adjusted her head on his shoulder, and he pulled her in even more snugly, taking care to tuck the blanket over her backside.

“Let me take care of you too,” he whispered into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

prongsfoot apartment headcanons:

entrance corridor: a short hallway, a wooden clotheshanger and another hanger for their keys.

kitchen: rectangular shaped. the walls are a very light beige, and the floors are made out of ebony wood. on one side of the kitchen, the one with the entrence door (a cherry wood one), there’s the cabinets, sink, under sink cabinets (cherry wood), over and stove, and a white fridge. the other side has a two-people round table. a window’s covered by orange blinds, casting a glow through the haze of smoke. there’s an ashtray on the table and discarded cups of coffee. the walls are covered in covered of pictures of them and their friends. two animals bowls are on the floor, too.

living room: it’s separated from the kitchen by a singular wall. there’s a telly perched up on a small, ebony wood commode, and the couch is a washed down, red-brown, whereas the rug is a lighter shade. there are paintings and drawings on the wall, as well as a few other pictures. the windows are covered by mustard yellow curtains. the lamps and lightbulb emit a warm light, and there’s a record player on a chair tucked into the corner of the room. above the telly, there are shelves stacked with books, and there are soft, cushioned chairs on the floor, too.

bedroom: the floors are covered by a brown rug, and over that is thrown a smaller, dark red one. the walls are beige, but covered by band and quidditch (sports) posters. there’s a smaller clotheshanger on the wall. their bed is close to the wall, parted by only a nightstand, on which there’s a lamp and a few books haphazardly thrown. still, next to the bed, there are more books, and their old rucksacks, and whatever is related to that moment’s hobbies. in their bedroom, there are also their animals’ beds.

bathroom: attached to the bedroom. the tiles there, too, are a very light beige, but the tiles on the floor are dark red. there’s a dark orange carpet in front of the bathtub, shielded by a shower curtain. on the washbasin is the small cup in which their toothbrushes are, and above it is a small cabinet, in which there is medicine, toothpaste and anything of that sort. the toilet is right on the left, and behind it is something small, resembling a stair, where are magazines and newspapers. towels are hung, but they usually shower together, so reach for them or give them to each other.

[aurborsau]

The Auction

Content warnings: omegaverse, NSFW, porn with plot, cunnilingus, medical kink, slight angst, vaginal sex

Paring: Terry silver/Daniel LaRusso

Word count: 2.8k

Summery: EIGHT IS ENOUGH AU ~ After the tragic loss of his mother, Daniel becomes a ward of the state and is forced to participate in an auction for unclaimed Omegas.

After his mothers untimely death. Daniel found himself with no place to call home. His father (whoever he was) remained oblivious to his existence, and his aunt callously turned him away. Left with no where to go, He ultimately gets sent to an overcrowded group home, where he had to keep his true identity as an omega a secret, the only other person who knew was his mother, and he had hoped the secret would die with her, but as fate would have it, the other boys in the home began to catch onto his scent and before he knew it, he was packing up his things and being sent to a facility for unclaimed Omegas where his fears of being mated to some Alpha jerk would become a reality. Soon enough, he would become simply a commodity, auctioned off to the highest bidder for them to do god knows what with him.

The place was relatively nicer than the group home, he found solace in having his own room, even if I felt more like a jail cell then anything. The walls were painted an eggshell white that matched the rest of the few pieces of furniture, there wasn’t a window in sight. (He could guess why that was) The room was lit solely by a Recessed light, creating a somewhat clinical ambiance in the otherwise dimly lit space. He wondered how many other omegas had lived there before him, and where they had ended up.

It came the night of his first auction and Daniel thought of every excuse under the sun to try and get out of it but they explained that it was very important for him to be there tonight, leaving no room for any exemptions. The day was spent getting prepared for his new Alpha. That included getting some kind of purity exam — whatever the hell that was.

✧ ✧ ✧

The doctor began by checking the boy's vitals and blood pressure, and then demanded he undress. Daniel’s eyes went wide at the order. He outright refused at first. But with the threat of calling in security, Daniel stood up, having no choice but to remove his clothes as instructed, his eyes glued to the ground as he felt daggers being shot onto his cold naked skin. He positioned himself on the table, placing his feet in the stirrups, trying to conceal his body as best he could with his hands.

The doctor swiftly moved behind the scared boy, gently moving Daniel’s shaking hands aside and placing his own cold, gloved hands on his budding breasts. Massaging in circles gently, making Daniel gasp slightly at the tenderness of his growing breasts as he examined for anything irregular.

The doctor then sat down in the chair in front of him, slowly easing a gloved finger into his tight core, making him squirm and gasp around the intrusion. A pleased sigh coming from the doctor when he hit the hymen. Muttering a simple “you passed.” As he checked him off on the clipboard, Before cleaning up and exiting the room, leaving Daniel feeling dirty and guilty as he laid out on the padded exam table like a lamb, awaiting slaughter.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that evening, he sat in the bathtub until the water ran cold, His mind reeling from the events of earlier. He hung his head over the side of the tub, tears falling onto the porcelain below, The sound of his sobs echoed in the empty bathroom. He was told to get himself clean for his new alpha, but he couldn’t bring himself to even touch his own body. The body that would soon belong to someone else.

Suddenly, a knock reverberated through the steam filled bathroom, one of the nun’s voice following after. “You’ve been in there far too long now, it’s time to get out. The auction starts in only an hour.”

He towels off and exits the bathroom, where she was waiting for him by his bed, holding what could only be those customary robes reserved for omegas. Only these were sheer, too sheer, with no other piece of clothing in sight. “Where are my under garments?” He panicked. “You won’t be needing those.” She hands him the robe. “Now, I expect you will get dressed and be downstairs in ten minutes.” With that she left him in his own shock, having no choice but to follow the orders given to him. He slips on the sheer white fabric over his damp skin, his small breasts peaked through the material, clear as day.

With a shaking hand, he slowly twisted the door handle open, trying to cover himself the best he could as he made his way down to the main floor where the auction was held.

He watched from the curtain as the many alphas filtered in, all wearing expensive suits and holding a glass of champagne as they mingled among himself. Daniel wondered which one of them he would be going home with, Practically gagging at the thought of having to actually mate with one of them.

They called the first omega on stage, a timid girl who got sold for fifty thousand. They put him at the back of the line, making the wait even more excruciating. His anxiety intensified as he observed others ahead of him, his heart raced as the line got shorter. “We move on now, ladies and gentlemen, to our last item for auction. Our youngest - most desired, virgin, male Omega.” In a moment of panic he was pushed onto stage, his heart racing as he walked centerstage, the lights blinding him as he tried to make out the faces of the hundreds of Alpha’s awed faces in the crowd.

“We shall start the bidding at 50,000 dollars. Do I hear 50,000?” Almost immediately, a number raised in the air. His eyes going wide at the outrageous price, all for him? The bids just kept getting higher, numbers were called out almost inaudibly fast as many hands raised. “Do I hear 130? 140?” Suddenly, a man from the back, calls out “500,000.” The words hung in the silence, Like this stranger already owned him and was just waiting patiently for his moment to strike. The room went still as heads turned to get a glimpse of the generous bidder. “$500.000, going once, going twice… sold to our esteemed Mr. Silver." In an instant, he was whisked away from the glaring spotlight, ushered into a private room where he crumpled into a corner. Like a frightened animal awaiting its fate, his eyes remained fixed on the locked door, his heart beating out of his chest.

Footsteps were heard over the deafening silence. With a decisive click, the lock turned and the door swung open, revealing three men entering the room. Two of them were burly looking security guards, and the third man was freakishly tall and dark-haired, exuding an aura of dominance in his wake.

He walked closer to the boy’s shaking figure, the strong smell of cigar smoke and whiskey hit his nose almost instantly. Trembling, he instinctively curled into himself, his head tucked between his knees.

“My name is Terry Silver.” The man knelt down infront of him. “What’s your name, sweet boy?”

His lips shook as he bid himself not to cry. “D…Daniel.” His voice wavered as he continued to hide his head. “What a nice name.” the man’s deep, raspy voice reverberated through the dimly lit room. “Can I see your face, Daniel?” he lifted his head just slightly, allowing Terry's calloused hand to graze his delicate cheek. The touch was light, gentle even, the chill of Terry's rings against his skin sent shivers down his spine. “Gorgeous.” The man appreciated. “Absolutely breathtaking.” His hand traveled down his neck and taking hold of his shaking shoulder. Concerned by the boys trembling, Terry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over the boy's quivering frame. Daniel instinctively pulled the jacket close, seeking solace in the comforting scent of the alpha's musk. Terry then turned his attention to the guards, and with hushed whispers he pulled out his wallet and handed each man a hundred dollar bill. With a nod they left the room, closing the door behind them. The alphas scent grew stronger with nowhere to dissipate. It was overpowering, clouding his senses and judgment.

Terry pulled up a chair and beckoned for the boy to come over. Despite feeling fear in the air, he found himself compelled to make the older man happy. Terry's eyes roamed hungrily over Daniel's slender form as he drew closer, his hand firmly grasping Daniel's bony hip. "I know I'm not supposed to touch you until our wedding…" A surge of desire evident in Terry’s voice as his hand ventured further, gently squeezing Daniel's thigh, “but your body. It drives me crazy.” Terry confessed, Daniel’s scent once sour with fear, now configured into arousal, with something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. "The moment you stepped onto that stage, I knew I had to have you. I could smell you from a mile away.” Terry sank down onto his knees before him, slipping off the jacket he gave the boy and letting it fall to the ground behind him. The heat between Daniels legs grew as the Alphas large hand slid under his robes. With the touch of his skin against his thigh, Daniel came back to reality in an instant, snaking away from the man’s delicate touch. “I…I can’t.” His breathing became ragged. “Don’t be shy. I don’t want to hurt you. Just a little taste.”

reached out again, this time placing both hands on Daniel's hips, guiding him back towards him almost in a playful manner, his rough hands sending shivers down his spine. Terrys skilled fingers undid the tie on his robes, making Daniel yelp in surprise as the cool air hit his sensitive skin. “Sir, don’t.” He pleaded weakly as he slipped off the rest of his robe. “Don’t argue with your Alpha, sweetheart. I know what’s best for you… trust me.” *‘Your Alpha*.’ that word sent shivers down his spine, the idea of giving yourself over to someone body and soul, should have sounded like some kind of nightmare, but now only made the heat between his legs intensify, a choked out whimper leaving his lips when he felt himself grow wet between his legs. Terry threw his head back, absolutely reveling in the smell of his sweet Omega’s body, readying itself for his Alpha. Terry's eyes darkened as his gaze locked onto his beautiful body in all its glory. His hands moved up to Daniel’s small chest, feeling the tremble beneath his touch. "You're so responsive,”

His eyes moved down to the proof of Daniel's desire between his legs now. He groaned as his hand trailed up Daniel's thigh, teasing the outer labia of his cunt. Daniel couldn’t do more than whimper as he was fondled. He let his eyelids flutter close in an attempt to hide himself from his true desires, The sound of his moans only made Terry grow bolder. His rough fingers dipped into the slick heat of his core, causing Daniel to cry out in pleasure. "Your scent... it's driving me crazy,” His voice was rough with desire as his thick fingers teased the sensitive folds of Daniel's sex, spreading his slick up to his sensitive clit. It felt like a jolt of electricity shot through him as he doubled over onto the alphas shoulder in defeat. Terry moaned in satisfaction as he felt Daniel’s hips rock forward onto his fingers. He kept them moving, circling and teasing his little nub of flesh that had the poor thing falling apart in his hands. The pleasure was an all-consuming sensation that coursed through every fiber of his being. “I can't take it anymore, Terry. Please..." he begged, not quite knowing what exactly he was asking for. “Be patient, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel." With that, he slowly began to push a finger inside Daniel's tight heat. He gasped at the sudden invasion, his body tensing up around Terry's digit.

Terry continued to push in slowly, His finger twisted and curled, hitting his g-spot dead on. Making Daniel scream out in overstimulation. A sensation he wasn’t familiar with, but welcomed nonetheless. Terry increased the pace of his thrusts, his rough fingers curling deeper inside of him only to be taken away in an instant. “No, no, why’d you stop?” Daniel whined. “Because I want to taste you, Danny. I want to feel you on my tongue." He slowly removed his fingers and licked the juices off his digits one by one and groaning lewdy at the taste. "Now lie down on the ground for me, baby.” Daniel nodded in agreement as he slowly got down on the ground, the wooden floors cold on his back as he stared at the ceiling, shaking as he anticipated what the man was going to do next.

Daniel watched as Terry moved between his legs, his heart pounding in anticipation. The older man's hands ran up his thighs, stopping just short of where he needed them most. "Look at me, Danny.”

he inclined his head weakly to make eye contact with the man before him, the fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow on his pale, handsome face. He looked... hungry, almost ravenous, His piercing blue eyes were filled with an insatiable desire, like he was a lion who’s been deprived of food for days, only to find himself face-to-face with a succulent gazelle that’s been released into his cage.

Terry gently eased his trembling, legs open and slowly poked his tongue out and ran it along the small slit of Daniel's cunt.

A shudder ran through his body as the warm, wet tongue ghosted over his sensitive clit. A gush of slick running down the mans chin as he continued his torment. Daniel’s hips lifted off the floor involuntarily, seeking more contact with the invading tongue as it traced his clit. He bit his lip hard, trying (and failing) to suppress the moans that threatened to escape his throat. He threw his arm over his face in an attempt to quiet himself, but Terry couldn’t have that. Stopping his relentless tongue, he pulled Daniel’s arm away from his face, “no baby, I want to hear all those pretty noises your making for me," he commanded softly. A loud moan escaped his lips. And although embarrassing to Daniels ears, It only served to encourage Terry as he lapped up his slick, drinking it down like water. Daniel felt himself nearing the edge. His fingers dug into the floor, trying to find some kind of anchor as his body shook in anticipation. “I… I can’t. I’m so close.”

"Good, come for me, baby. Come for your Alpha," Terry purred, his tongue never ceasing its rhythmic dance around Daniel's sensitive nub.

As he felt his orgasm building up inside him, Terry moved his hand between their bodies, slipping two fingers inside him. The dual sensation was too much for Daniel to handle, and he cried out in pleasure as his body convulsed around Terry's fingers. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he reached his peak. His entire body tensed up as he felt hot liquid shoot out from himself, almost like he was peeing - it was intense, more intense than anything he’s ever experienced. Sure, he’s had orgasms in the past, but they couldn't compare to the level of intensity he felt in those few fleeting moments of bliss. The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of the Alpha’s addicting pheromones, making him feel a newfound closeness with the man he was obligated to call his mate.

Daniel's body trembled from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He was breathless and completely exposed, his legs trembling as he tried to regain some semblance of control.

He looked down at Terry, gasping at the sight of his drenched face, his collar stained with his own fluids.

"I- I'm sorry" he said softly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Terry chuckled softly as he wiped his face clean with an embossed “TS” handkerchief stuffed in his pocket, his eyes never leaving Daniel's. "There's nothing to be sorry about," he said, his voice low and raspy. "I love the way you taste.” He leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, Daniel could taste himself on the mans tongue, forcing itself into his mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss. Maybe… being mated wasn’t as bad as Daniel thought it was going to be, especially if it was going to be like this all the time.

Based off of an anonymous ask: “Eight Is Enough!Daniel but make it Omegaverse. He’s not quite of the legal age, but he’s been promised to, and is engaged to, Mr. Silver: an older, wealthy Alpha who asked for his hand. They will be married when Daniel turns 18. Until then, they are allowed to meet and have supervised visits during their courtship, as Daniel is an Omega, and it is not considered proper for them to be left unattended with an Alpha if they are not married. Mr. Silver is of course very delighted and charmed by this sweet boy, and can’t wait until he is truly his, body and soul…”

[scribblecake]

Gentle Lights Ch)2

Back at it again at the Krispy Kreme

TW: Graphic depictions of injury, Anxiety, Light spooky shit ngl

Angsty but gets better!

Side note: Not sure how many chapters this will be. So buckle up I guess 🤷‍♀️

~***~

Shuddering breath filled Izogie’s lungs. 

Her eyes shot open only to slam back shut at the searing light invading her vision. A weak groan bubbled from the warrior’s throat as sensation began to slowly return to her.

Izogie’s body felt completely crushed by fatigue. The pain from deep in the static was now sharp. Tangible. Close, so close and everywhere beneath her flesh. 

The warrior could feel blood, sweat and grime festering on every inch of her. The beginnings of fever coiling over her limbs with thirst ripping at her throat and mouth with merciless claws. The two work in tandem to slice dry cracks into her lips, to turn her tongue to sand, and to drum a steady ache in her skull.

But she was alive.

Despite it all she lived. The thought was enough to make her laugh in triumph. Chapped lips slowly stretched and twisted into a gentle smile. But the only sound Izogie could manage was a reedy wheeze too feeble to be heard over the breeze… 

~***~

Consciousness soon became an illusive commodity. Lucidity even more so. Fever burned the strength from the warrior’s waning muscles, clouding her mind with boiling delirium. Much like before, Izogie was left adrift. But the void wasn’t there to shield her anymore. Instead she lay stagnant. Solid. Sickly.

On the odd occasion, when she had the strength, Izogie would gather her focus and attempt to move. Starting small she would flex her fingers then her toes. All the while stubbornness trailed behind her every twitch. With each small venture it demanded the warrior gather her courage and open her eyes.

But the soldier refused. She wasn’t ready to face the world. Opening her eyes would mean perceiving reality. A reality where she was a failure, a deserter, a weak and broken soul barely clinging to a pitiful shred of life. 

Opening her eyes could mean the possibility of having no way forward. And what if she did survive? Would she be able to face her sisters? Her mentor? Would she be able to face Nawi? 

Would her old life even be within reach?

Suddenly something cut through Izogie’s delirious spiral of worries. A sound faint and gentle with a bubbling lilt that held nothing but warmth and kindness. Izogie held her breath, her senses tuning into her surroundings to the best of their ability. 

Tensely the warrior strained her ears. Soft wind rustled nearby foliage, crickets played their nightly symphony, and distant waves lapped at a shore. Yet nothing matched that wonderful sound. 

She must be hearing things. 

Izogie listened intently for a while. Only it didn’t repeat. The only sounds were that of the natural cacophony of the night. Filled with disappointment, the warrior chalked it up to her delirium spilling into reality. 

But it came again! Clearer this time! Was it… laughter? Yes! Warm laughter echoed just on the edge of the wind. It pulled at Izogie’s heart, filling her with… hope? The more she listened the more she yearned to stand up and follow it. 

This strange laughter filled the warrior with another more foreign feeling. Little by little all the fatigue that bogged down her limbs began to lift.

Surprise forced Izogie’s eyes to fly open. She was instantly met with burning and blurring vision fighting to focus. After a few minutes the world came into view…

Stars dotted an inky sky. The moon hung low and bright, bathing the land in shimmering silver. To Izogie’s right, a sprawling coastline framed the horizon.

To her left, mist curled and threaded itself between the dense foliage of a jungle. Izogie herself seemed to be wedged at the base of a cobblestone wall.

She lay at an awkward angle, as if she had been carelessly dumped over the side of the wall. Luckily her body was hidden from view by a dense canopy. Though the warrior couldn’t dwell on her surroundings long.

In the corner of her vision a small light flickered briefly. Izogie froze. She must be seeing things. Though fear spiked through her when a twig snapped to her left.

At the mouth of the jungle.

The warrior’s heart was pounding in her ears now. Was it an animal? A person? She was too sickly and injured to defend herself! Anxiety stabbed at Izogie’s gut as she strained to detect any potential threats. 

She found none.

Another snap. Closer this time. Yet frantic eyes detected nothing. Dread forced a tremor down the soldier’s spine and Izogie’s soul damn near left her body when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. A scream tried to tear itself from her throat.

But she was so parched, hardly any sound came out. A soft gasp and confusion quickly replaced fear. The warrior’s eyes were met with a breathtaking sight.

A woman? 

Her skin glimmered and shone as if she were made of solid starlight. Brilliant locks curled and pooled around her like a flowing river. Deep pools of vibrant brown peered down at Izogie with curiosity while plush lips sported a serene smile. She looked like a moonbeam personified.

Her beauty knocked the wind out of Izogie. She lay there dazed. This seemed to amuse the shimmering woman. She chuckled, sliding closer and leaning downwards. The world came to a screeching halt when Izogie felt a kiss being pressed to her forehead. Their eyes met again when the beauty pulled away. 

Izogie could still feel the imprint of her lips on her skin. It tingled and crackled as if lightning was seeping from it and into her body. Energy pooled in her gut, liquid and cool.

A strong sense of calm washed over the soldier like a wave. The glittering woman gave one final smile before the sensation filled Izogie completely and her vision was overcome with white light.

~***~

“Is… really her?”

“Found… border…”

“Strange… in the… storm.”

“Alright?... she be healed?”

Now this was getting ridiculous! Unconscious voids again? Really? Annoyance blossomed in Izogie’s chest. But for some odd reason, this time, when voices cut through the dark they filled her with joy.

Despite her exhaustion, excitement forced her eyelids to open. And for the third time, she went through the painstaking process of adjusting her vision to the waking world.

Only this time she was greeted with the sight of homeland familiar faces. Gasps split the quiet as three figures rushed to the warrior’s side with the closest leaning over Izogie excitedly.

“N-Nawi?”

~***~

@mybonafidefeelings @zeezeecave @shanas-baby

[arjunp99]

Exploring the 4 Benefits of Wall Hung Toilets

Wall hung toilets, also known as wall mounted toilets or wall hung commodes, are a type of bathroom fixture mounted directly onto the bathroom wall rather than being supported by a floor-mounted base. These innovative fixtures offer a range of benefits that make them an attractive choice for modern bathrooms.

They're gaining popularity because they come with a bunch of benefits that make them perfect for modern bathrooms. Let's explore a few advantages of wall-hung toilets!

1. Space-saving Design

One of the most significant advantages of wall hung toilets or wall hung commodes is their space-saving design. They offer a refreshing departure from traditional floor-mounted toilets. The compact bathroom can be featured with space-saving design with a wall mounted toilet seat, maximising the available floor space. These innovative fixtures are mounted directly on the wall, doing away with the need for a visible water tank and a bulky base. As a result, they create a sense of spaciousness by freeing up valuable floor space.

2. Easy Cleaning and Maintenance

Cleaning the bathroom can often be a cumbersome task, but wall-hung toilet seats simplify the process. As the toilet is not mounted to the floor, you can effortlessly mop and sweep the bathroom floor without any obstructions in your way. A wall-hung toilet seat makes maintenance a breeze but also facilitates easy repairs when needed.

3. Enhanced Hygiene and Aesthetics

By opting for a wall mounted design, you can elevate both hygiene and aesthetics in your bathroom. With no floor fixings, the chances of dirt, dust, or water accumulating around the base are significantly reduced, resulting in a cleaner and more hygienic environment. Your bathroom renovation can include the installation of a stylish wall mounted toilet seat, adding a modern touch to the overall design. The modern and stylish ambience created by these fixtures enhances the overall aesthetic appeal of your bathroom, transforming it into a place of elegance and refinement.

4. Water Efficiency

Unlike traditional toilets that tend to use more water per flush, wall hung toilets are thoughtfully designed to minimise water consumption without sacrificing flushing efficiency. This dual advantage not only contributes to reducing your environmental footprint but also leads to long-term savings on your utility bills. By choosing a wall hung toilet, you're making a sustainable choice that benefits both the planet and your wallet.

Wall hung toilets offer a range of benefits that make them an excellent choice for modern bathrooms. Discover Astral's impressive range of wall hung toilets, where excellence meets innovation. They take wall hung toilets to the next level, offering a premium selection with a multitude of exceptional features. 

From slim seat covers and quick-release options to a true rimless design, every detail is carefully designed to enhance comfort, convenience, and hygiene. Make sure that you select a brand that provides you with these exceptional features.

[sebastianswallows]

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 21 — At home

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: None

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

She woke up to the distant sound of Sebastian’s voice. It came through the walls of her bedroom, so faint she thought she was still dreaming. When her eyes opened, just peeking through her lashes and her messy hair, she couldn’t see him anywhere, but she still heard him. He was speaking to someone in the garden. She fell asleep again and woke up sometime later, couldn’t even tell how long afterwards…

The day went by as usual — breakfast together, a few light chores, a little walk outside — until just before lunchtime. They were preparing it together — Sebastian with magic, and she the hard way — when he brought up something new.

“How would you like to go away for a while?”

She didn’t answer for a few moments, something deep in her mind freezing in fear.

“Not for long,” he added, half-turning to look at her.

She couldn’t even tell if he was being honest or just saying it to placate her. “Go where?” she asked as she started to cut tomatoes again.

“To my home,” he said, “in London.”

“Why?”

“I might have some business there.”

Her nose curled. Dark magic again… “You know I disapprove of that sort of thing.”

“Yes well, you disapprove of a great many things but you still do them, don’t you?”

She threw the knife in his general direction and ran into the drawing room.

After a session of forced embraces and swinging and swaying and a few thrown fists and insults, he brought her to an exhausted peace and detailed his plan for the two of them, through which he slipped several reassurances that they wouldn’t stay in London long.

Somewhere in the middle of his speech, she realised what she’d heard that morning — he’d been speaking to Bertie, asking her to tend to the chickens for the next few days.

She had to agree to come with him, of course, because clearly he’d made all the arrangements already.

An old and disused fireplace in a ruin served as their Floo point, off the road just between the village and the Cloke house. She dragged her suitcase behind half-heartedly, having left in the middle of the night so as not to be asked any awkward questions by the neighbours.

They arrived in a basement somewhere, a grey and filthy place filled with old furniture and bits of disused machinery. She didn’t have time to ask where they were before Sebastian, more cheerful than she’d ever seen him, dragged her up the stairs. It was a block of flats.

“Home sweet home,” whispered Sebastian as he stepped through his door — after undoing the tens of wards he’d put on the place. He drank it in, sight and scent, and eagerly undid the charm on his trunk that turned it from a suitcase back to its normal size. “Put yours down anywhere, my love.”

She dropped it on the floor and started to undo her cloak as Sebastian turned on a couple of the lamps.

It was a fairly small place, made smaller by the clutter that covered every surface. Magical items sat next to innocuous muggle ones, boxes were strewn everywhere, and a few stray bottles of amber alcohol, all in various states of consumption, were on this or that table. Several clocks each showing different times hung on the northern wall next to a great map of Europe. On another wall, pinned to a board that hung askew, were myriad papers in runes and hieroglyphs with Latin scrawled on the sides, crude drawings of objects she could not recognise, and graphs of things she half-remembered from Astronomy class.

And books, piles and piles of books were shoved on every available space: on the desk, on the commode to her left, on the chairs and tables, on the floor, in the bookcase and on top of it all the way up to the ceiling. A few peeked out from beneath his bed.

Sebastian, pleased as can be, was shaking off his jacket while she still looked for a place to sit.

“Would you like some tea?” he offered smilingly as he sat down on the bed to take his boots off. “I have a little kitchen just through there.”

She looked to where he nodded, to the right, and saw a door covered by a grey curtain that nearly camouflaged it into the neighbouring wall.

“No thank you,” she said.

“How about brandy?” he grinned. “I have some bottles you’d love, all sweet, just like you.”

“I’m tired enough already,” she said, hugging her cloak to her chest. “How long will I have to be here?”

Sebastian shoved his boots beneath the chair and went to her, gripping her by the shoulders with his big, warm hands. “Just a day or two. I need to speak to my associate about something, and then we’ll leave. If… if you don’t like it here,” he stuttered.

“Who is this associate?”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, gently prying the cloak from her fingers and undoing her bonnet to take it off. “You won’t have to meet him.”

She almost wanted to protest that, but she had a feeling he kept her away from this other man for her benefit as much as for his own. She knew enough about the dark arts to know most dabblers were rarely as charming as Sebastian.

She looked to the small bed, left in an untidy mess since probably the day he’d ran away from there. It was difficult enough to sleep beside him in her bed, which was big and spacious, but this was asking too much…

She turned again to Sebastian, but he had his back turned, busy opening the windows. Slowly, she stepped further inside the flat, took off her jacket and her boots, and uncoiled her hair. The night air came in like a deep inhale and seemed to open every surface. The old wood furniture crackled and the curtains flapped.

Sebastian disappeared inside the kitchen and made tea anyway while she took out her nightgown and folded her clothes away. She’d packed more than two days’ worth of clothes, on his insistence, and although he seemed determined that they wouldn’t stay there longer than that, she wondered what he was thinking to make her pack for more.

The ritual of going to bed was well rehearsed by both of them, but he didn’t do anything to her that night. Just laid her head over his shoulder and hugged her with one arm to cushion her against the wall that was behind her and the thin mattress below.

She could feel him nuzzling the top of her head, his fingers brushing up and down her spine, and through his chest she heard the tremble of his heart, so heavy and restless. She didn’t like being so close to him, and at her core she was afraid he’d touch her in a way she’d disapprove again, but he didn’t. It was distracting… He was distracting, so warm and citrus scented and just the right amount of hard and soft.

“Perhaps we’ll take a walk on Diagon Alley tomorrow, after I’m done,” he whispered. “We can have lunch at the Cauldron, and even go to the Museum again,” he smiled.

She didn’t answer, although her thoughts also began to drift. It had a charm, perhaps, to be in London, to have a small little home to come back to and for the rest of the day to be out, enjoy the sights and visit new places… And it was less daunting to do with someone by her side.

Her knees curled up defensively at the very thought that that someone could be Sebastian.

“And in the evening we could walk through St James’s Park, and see the Thames nearby. Maybe even go to Highgate cemetery,” he teased. “I think you’d enjoy that… I know I enjoy it, but I’ve always been a bit twisted in that way. Then again, I heard you have some of the same inclinations…”

She froze, if it were possible, even more stiffly. Her eyes were closed, her breath was even, but she was smouldering inside.

“I didn’t mean to gossip about you with the Clokes, but they insisted. They asked a number of things, and… in the end, they told me more than I knew. I was upset at the time, but I don’t think I am anymore. I think it’s rather charming, really, that you were skilled with dark magic when young. I suppose now, since you left it behind, that it wounded you in some way…” he said, his hand gently squeezing her waist, as if to make sure that she was still there, in one piece. “I can’t fault your aversion to it, I can merely disagree.”

Her fingers clawed into his shirt, holding back several retorts that, in the end, wouldn’t have made any difference. In spite of herself, she understood Sebastian very well. She would have been as implacable as he when she was around fifteen. It just seemed he never grew out of it…

“Anyway,” he sighed, “rest now. It’s been a long enough day.”

He brushed his cheek over the crown of her head and pulled the covers up to her chin, surrounding her with the feel and scent of him. She fell asleep faster than she thought she would.

By the time she woke up, he was gone. A note on the bedside cabinet told her he’d left to see that associate of his and that he should be back by noon, with a few tender embellishments at the end. She scoffed and turned around, determined to sleep a little more.

But now awake, she couldn’t ignore the way the springs of the bed dug into her sides, the way the pillow wasn’t soft enough, the way the blankets hardly kept her warm, and she only tossed and turned with a frown until she decided to get up.

Her pocket watch told 7:30. She didn’t even know what she was going to do with herself the rest of the morning, too afraid to start wandering around lest she get lost, and too far from Ominis to seek him out. She was just thinking back to that Floo fireplace in the basement as she tied her hair when the door opened loudly and closed with a bang.

“Sebastian?” she turned, her hands still up fixing the last pin.

“You’re ready,” he breathed, “good, we should leave.”

“So soon? But I haven’t even eaten.”

“Yes, well, we’ll eat when we get there?”

She frowned. “Get where?”

Sebastian paused. “Somewhere. Is your suitcase all made?”

He spotted her nightgown on the bed and grabbed it, stuffing it inside her open suitcase before closing it just as it was. With a wave of his wand, he charmed it to a pocket-sized box and did the same with his trunk, and before she had time to ask anything else he grabbed her wrist and dragged her.

After looking left and right, he took enough time to reapply his wards, locking the place as securely as they’d found it, and then without a word of explanation he pulled her after him down the stairs.

“What’s happened?” she asked calmly.

“Later.”

“Where are we going?”

They went down another flight of stairs.

“Do you still not know?”

“I’m thinking,” he said, and after a few more steps, he muttered, “We… could go to Ominis.”

She thought her heart might have stopped. Yes, yes! she thought. Please say yes!

“That would be a —”

“No,” he said almost right away, “too close to London.”

He stopped right where he stood, with her just behind him, her spirits crushed. It no longer mattered where he chose to go. He took a few deep breaths, his shoulder squared, his head bowed, and even from behind she could tell he reached an uncertain conclusion.

His hand tightened around hers and, as they stood in the middle of the stairs, he looked back to her and said, “Hold fast for a moment.”

Then, in a blink, they were elsewhere.

He’d apparated them to somewhere far more cold and windy, somewhere outside in the middle of a country lane with tall mountains in the distance and birds singing in the trees. She could hear roosters crowing and wondered whether they were back in Upper Flagley, but as she let him go and turned around, eyes squinting at the sunlight, she found she couldn’t recognise the place.

But no, she could… She’d been here once before. And that was Hogwarts in the distance.

“Feldcroft,” said Sebastian with an apologetic smile. “Perhaps not the wisest choice, but… It might win us some time.”

“Sebastian, what’s happened?” she asked, more insistently this time. “Why all this fuss? Why run away?”

“Why do you think?!” he shouted, then sighed and tempered himself, covering his eyes contritely with his hand. “Let’s go inside, we can speak there.”

“Inside where?” she asked, then looked at the house behind him. It seemed abandoned, its garden a wild thicket, roof falling apart… “There?!”

“It will be alright,” he smiled, “you’ll see.”

And then she remembered: she’d seen that house before as well. It was exactly where he’d apparated to the first time, when he took her to The Three Broomsticks.

Small and round and made of stone with a sturdy wooden door, it seemed apart from the rest of the village which, although distant and spread apart, was far more habitable. Sebastian walked inside as if he owned it, which she now realised he probably did. The door opened at his touch, and he lit up the little chamber with a swish of his wand. She stood in the doorway and covered her mouth, coughing at the cloud of dust that rose just from him walking through.

There was a small round table with three wooden chairs overturned around it and a big armchair to the side, and shelves and cabinets, and in another part of the house two beds, or what was left of them. She stepped inside, trying to imagine what it used to look like… It became more alive as Sebastian parted the curtains, cleaned the dust away, and repaired the drapes that split what seemed to be the drawing room from the bedroom.

She set straight the fallen chairs and the tipped-over vase on the table, turning then to the little cabinet behind. It still held a collection of plates and teacups neatly.

“It should be safe for the night,” said Sebastian, wiping his hands dry on his trousers. “I’ll make sure of it.”

She leaned against the table and regarded him calmly. “Well, clearly something’s gone terribly wrong for you to come here of all places. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

Sebastian’s freckled nose curled angrily for a moment, and he minced his words in his mind for a while.

“Burke’s double-crossed me,” he sighed. “I thought he summoned me to tell me the Aurors stopped following us, but he just tried to hand me over to them like some consolation prize.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“At least, that seemed to be what he was trying to do…”

“It seems to me like this is not a very rewarding profession,” she said.

“Don’t start.”

[automeris-io-moth]

Rescue pt.2

Part one

Warm, soft light emanated from the crystals interred within the stones, and, as they walked further into the caverns, its glow grew colourful, shades, luminosity gained as if made on purpose, as if done with someone in mind, an outsider, of course, beasts need not the aid of light to move through their homes.

It was thoughtful, Other Hero thought, before procuring the rest of the way to be clean of such thoughts.

The entrances had little privacy to them, then again, in a place of rocks, crystals and stones, commodities wood brought, as doors were rare, rather opting for curtains, wool certainly stole from the merchants who dared pass too close to their caves.

Long was the way before the monster stopped. Opening with one arm the green bed sheets hanging by the rock on the edge, a wide, luminous room presented themselves behind it.

Something resembled a bed right in the middle of the room, nest-like with furs and cushions inside a hole made in the ground, around it decorations seemed carefully planned, a mirror and a table, clothes hung at one of the edges of the room, books piled up against two walls, and, with a panfñute between their hands…

“Hero!” Other Hero shouted, leaping forward to embrace the other the moment they crossed the threshold, arms tight and heart pounding.

They were so relieved.

Hero hugged them back, pressing their cheek in the other’s chest and breathing in.

“Hero, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where you were,” Other Hero was quickly to apologise, tongue fast as they spoke, little effort to breathe “no one told me anything when I returned, I came as soon as I blackmailed it out of Teammate, I swear, I’m so sorry.”

The hug was tightened by the other, a reassurance, a promise of forgiveness both thought.

Other Hero could almost forget, in the comfort they found in the other’s presence, how the golden eyes of the monster were set right over both.

“I’m very happy you came for me, Other Hero,” Hero answered, finally pulling away from the hug “I’m sure you must be tired.”

They could not deny it, and still, whatever offer could come along with such observation, Other Hero felt hesitant to accept.

But Hero placed their hand in their face, soft and understanding, ignoring the sweat and the grime covering them, wiping away the dust in their cheek, and Other Hero melted.

“Allow us to host you for the night,” they said “allow me to repay your kindness.”

And without second complaint, Other Hero was lowered under the furs by the gentle hands of Hero, under the watchful eye of The King.

The moment to flee would come, they assured themselves, Hero was smart, they were resourceful, they planned ahead. Other Hero would play along if Hero thought that was the path to escaping.

***

Hero served the soup from the pot into three wooden bowls, one bigger than the other two, and set them on a silver tray.

“I do want to keep them,” they said, eyes fixed on the fire.

The monster, the King, Villain, hugged them from behind as they both watched the put bubble.

“They will not like that.”

“I know,” Hero answered, easily, “but you’ll help me, won’t you? Ease them, help them adapt.”

“I will if such you ask, my light.”

Villain nuzzled into Hero’s neck.

***

Fed and bathed Other Hero felt dazed in the softness of the nest, only half noticing the other figure slipping in beside them.

Soft hands pulled them close.

“Hero,” they called, almost nothing more than a breath.

“Yes, love?”

“I’ll get us out of here,” Other Hero said, promised “I’ll take you away and we can…”

Their thoughts slipped, came and went as the crackling fire and the humming Hero lulled them to sleep.

A kiss was placed on their forehead, and from the door, Villain smiled at both.

_

Part three

Masterlist

Okay second try to see if this thing appears in the tags, the post before the first try of this one doesn't show either but quite honestly it's too mcuh work

Sorry if you see this post two times, I'm just seeing if whatever's the problem is fixed itself (edit: it did :) )

[theoffingmag]

Samira Idroos’ works in textile The Greatest and Fans cheekily reimagine Islamic prayer rugs with the embroidered additions of Nike and Supreme logos. The repetition of a rotated Nike swoosh reads like a calligraphic articulation of “Allah” in Arabic, while the word “supreme” makes reference to the ninety-nine words to describe Allah as the “most good” in the Quran. Idroos prompts her viewers to consider their worship of commodity and the power of slogan and icon to garner loyalty and following. With the prayer rugs hung against the wall at eye level, the Sri Lankan-American artist also demonstrates the physical impossibility of kneeling for prayer with these reimagined readymades of faith as they are installed as art objects. 

Contemporary Exhibition Inspired by the Sacred – ALTER – Leaves One Changed

[aquietwritingcorner]

Voice Loss

Title: Voice Loss       Day: Febuwhump 2023 Day 9   Fandom:  Fullmetal Alchemist Word Count: 1820   Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T   Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang   Warning: NA     Summary: The Promised Day left Riza without her voice. She’s having a little trouble adjusting to her new life.   Notes:     ff.net || AO3

____________________________________

Voice Loss

Riza sat down the last box of her stuff in the living room, and looked around, soundlessly huffing as she did. Who knew that moving in was going to be so much trouble? She certainly didn’t. Then again, she hadn’t anticipated doing this… well, she had never anticipated doing this, really. If she had thought about it, it was in some far off future that was honestly more of an indulgent fantasy than any sort of realistic thought.

The Promised Day had changed that, though.

Hayate padded to her, letting out a small little bark, and she reached down to pet him, smiling at him as she stroked his fur. He was a great help to her, honestly. She hadn’t anticipated that he would be this much of a help, but it was surprising what he had learned to do. He nuzzled into her hand and she scratched behind his ears before rising from her crouch. She had a lot to do, after all.

There were plenty of boxes everywhere, and she had been given leave to rearrange what was already here so that her things could become a part of them. That would, of course, mean that she had to unpack her boxes. Fortunately, Riza wasn’t a woman that was very tied to material possessions. She had much less to unpack then what was already in the apartment.

Her clothes had been the easiest. She had taken the smaller closet, seeing as she really didn’t have that much. Much of her wardrobe had been made up of uniforms. Her civilian clothes were somewhat lacking. She didn’t mind too much, but she knew that she had some supposedly-helpful people that were planning on changing that soon, whether she wanted it or not.

The kitchen also wasn’t too hard, seeing as she had the better pots and pans. Actually, the kitchen held little in the way of cookware, so it was almost like moving her things into a new kitchen. Sure, the dishware and the utensils looked a little mismatched, but it honestly wasn’t too bad, as far as she was concerned. It would do, at any rate. Her foodstuffs slid right in as well, as there was very little in the cabinets too. She’d actually need to go shopping soon, even with the addition of her things.

The bathroom took a little longer, as she had to do some rearranging of where things were kept, but it wasn’t too hard. Their towels actually managed to coordinate, which was nice. She wouldn’t have to think about getting new ones. There was also ample room under the sink for storage, as well as a set of shelves over the commode. That made storage much easier—easier than it had even been in her apartment before.

A bookshelf had been cleared off for her, and she appreciated that. Riza did love to read, when she could find the time, and had amassed herself quite a collection of books. Having a shelf to put them on really helped, and she enjoyed arranging them in the way that she wanted. Perhaps now she’d have time to read the ones she hadn’t yet. If she ran out, maybe she could ask Sheska for suggestions. Riza knew that Gracia kept up with Sheska. Perhaps she could as well.

Her guns she stored all over, as she knew was expected. Under the bed, in the closet, under cushions, in cabinets—she found places for them all. She wasn’t worried about that. Stashes of weapons, hidden resources, they would both have them. There was no doubt about that.

The other things were harder. Pictures. Awards. Knickknacks. Sentimental things. She hung a few photos on the wall—the team, all together. Her and Hayate. The Elrics. She, Roy, and Elicia. Rebecca and her from academy days. She found places for the knickknacks. A dried bouquet of flowers wrapped in a faded violet ribbon. A set of bookends. A small, sculpted tree from Xing. A flower vase.

Two things were harder than others to find a place for: Her medal from her actions on the Promised Day, and her honorable discharge.

With another soundless sigh, Riza looked at the papers. They had marked the end of her career and the end of her ability to follow along behind Roy in the military. Her vocal chords, it turned out, had been damaged when her throat was cut. They had managed to hold on just long enough for the fight, but she had pushed them too far. Perhaps, if she had stayed quiet, there might have been a chance of repair or healing. But using them as she did, she had pushed them too far, and they were too damaged.

The doctors had said there was nothing to be done. Riza had insisted that Dr. Marcoh use the philosopher’s stone on Havoc and Roy first. Winry had caught wind of it and, although she didn’t know of any advancements in automail for vocal chords, she was keeping her ear to the ground and turning ideas over in her own head.

For now, though, there was nothing, and Riza was mute. A mute soldier wasn’t much good on the field. She couldn’t acknowledge orders given, she couldn’t warn her teammates, she couldn’t give reports. There was simply no place for her. So, she had been honorably discharged, packed up her things, and gone looking for a job, even thought there had really only been one that had fit her at this point in her life.

Fortunately, she had found a rather unexpected second one.

Keys jingled in the lock, and Hayate raced towards the door, eagerly greeting the person there. Riza heard him greet her dog back, and heard his footsteps approach.

“Hey, it’s looking pretty good in here,” Roy said. “What are you looking at now?”

He came up behind her, sitting down a briefcase, and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head on her chin. Wordlessly she leaned into his hold and held up the papers.

“Oh,” he said, frowning a bit. “It’s up to you if you want to put them up or not,” he said. “On one hand, an honorable discharge is something to be proud of. On the other, I know it wasn’t what you wanted.”

Riza shook her head, sighed and set down the papers. She thought for a moment, trying to find the words she needed. Very slowly and rather clumsily, she started to sign something out. She had known a few signs here and there, but she was having to learn more now that she couldn’t speak. It was a slow process, but she was slowly learning it.

Roy was learning it too, being patient with her as she did. Fuery already knew it, and Falman had memorized entire books of it. Breda knew some, and Havoc was a surprisingly fast learner at it. She wasn’t part of the team anymore, but they were still doing things for her.

She missed them.

Roy watched her hands as she signed, taking a moment to read them. “You… aren’t sure because… memories. Because of memories. But… you like married. You like being married. To me. Ah, you aren’t sure if you want to hang them up, because if reminds you of what you lost, but you also enjoy the good in them, like us being able to be married.”

Riza nodded, glad that he was able to read her so well.

Roy pulled her close and buried his head in her neck. “I’m sorry, Riza. I wish that you could be with me. I promise, the moment someone comes up with a way for you to be back, your position will be open for you.”

Riza turned and poked him in the chest.

“What?” he said. “I just said… oh. That.” Roy sighed. “Yes, I’m still looking for someone to fill your position. It’s not easy, you know! Trust issues aside, you left big shoes to fill!”

Riza made a few more signs, having to stop and think about a few of them.

“I am not being lazy!” he protested. “I promise you—Breda’s turned into a slave driver in your absence.”

Riza looked at him curiously and gestured for more.

“More? Oh, you want to know how things in the office are.”

Riza nodded.

Roy launched into a run down of the day, going through all that had happened. Riza was glad to hear it, but she missed the camaraderie that they had. She missed knowing what was going on at the command centers, of knowing the inside jokes, or the latest escapades.

She missed her life.

It honestly ate at her a bit, leaving her feeling a bit empty and listless. She knew that she’d be able to do things as Roy’s wife, and with her own reputation. But not having a solid path or way forward, not being able to be in on the knowing of the plan with everyone else, it honestly hurt.

She sighed again, and Roy frowned, pulling her over to the couch. He pulled her into sitting down with him, and she curled up against him. “I know,” he said softly. “I know. I know you miss being there and I miss having you with me. I love the new way that you’re with me, as my wife, but I know that you miss the way things were too.”

He held her tighter. “I promise you, though, you won’t become a shut-in like your father. Even if you aren’t my bodyguard and adjunct, no one is going to forget about you. And that’s a promise. You’re still a part of this, Riza Mustang, and I won’t let you forget it.”

Riza sighed and leaned against him, wishing she had a way to articulate all of the swirling words inside of her. She knew that they’d soon find a good angle for her to work for this new stage of her life. She’d have a way to still be useful and valuable to Roy and his climb. She just had no idea what it would be, and she didn’t think anyone else did at the moment. Until they did, things were going to be hard.

But she did have Roy. They were able to be together in the way that they had longed for, for so many years. That was no small thing. She missed her old life and was looking for footing in her new life, but at least she had an anchor. So, for now, she’d just lean against her husband, and mourn her old life.

And then, somehow, she’d move forward, voice or no voice. Just like all of the other trauma in her life, she wasn’t going to let voice loss control her life. All she had to do was find her footing.

And with Roy at her side, she had no doubt that she would.