#I am swatting a broom at you

[firebreadtroy]

cleaning out the bots after being gone for so long like cobwebs

#I am swatting a broom at you #and by god here comes the vacuum #🍞 posts

[ditzydisko]

Hey @staff, why am I suddenly being recommended terf/radfem blogs???

#i havent followed any to my knowledge #the omly time i see tht rhetoric is when its a 'blogs you might like!' shit #???? #trans rights are human rights #this is not a safe space for terfs or radfems!!! get the fuck out!!!!!!!! #go on get!! *i am violently swatting you out the door with a broom*

[houseofperfecttaste]

I Love You

2 Years Ago

"Hey J! Ready for movie night?" You asked enthusiastically swinging the door open a huge smile on your face. You and JJ had been friends forever and Thursday nights are your movie nights with each other. "Of course I am! What we watching tonight?!" "I was thinking some Disney movies!" You exclaimed grabbing the blankets and pillows and throwing them onto the couch. "Alright, princess put on whatever you want." He never minded what you guys watched he just loved spending his time with you. You guys laid on the couch you between his legs with your back to him and him sitting up slightly against the pillows.

JJ ignored the movie you put on admiring the way you looked in his sweatshirt that he lent you months ago. "My sweatshirt looks good on you." He whispered leaning down into your ear his hot breath sending chills down your spine. "Hm, I think so too." You giggled turning your head to look at him both of you smiling. He playfully pinched your cheek and you laughed swatting his hand away. "Stop it." You turned your attention back to the movie and you could still feel his stare on you.

"Watch the movie Maybank."

"But you're so pretty."

1 Year Ago

You were at work for almost two hours past closing time because the closing manager decided to not show up making you the closing manager. You were whispering words under your breath as you were doing the closing server's job as well. You heard the bell on the door ring and you rolled your eyes. "We've been closed for two hours." You turned around to see JJ standing next to the host stand.

"My bad ma'am I'll leave." He smirked walking back towards the door. "You can stay." You smiled and he walked towards the bar sitting on one of the stools. "What are you doing here J?" You asked leaning against your side of the bar. "Came to keep you company. Kie told me why you weren't at the Chateau." He crossed his arms on the bar leaning towards you. "Thank you, JJ. I've been bored out of my mind." You smiled. "What can I do to help you?" Your eyes widened shaking your head. "No, you're not doing anything to help me." "Well, I want to get you out of here as fast as possible to go smoke. So hand me a broom or some shit."

You bit your lip grabbing the broom from behind the bar and handing it to him. He got up starting to sweep under the tables. You watched him with a small smile on your face thinking he was so amazing.

5 Months Ago

You were on the beach alone crying in your prom dress because your boyfriend of six months decided to kiss another girl while you went to the bathroom. "Hey, cupcake." He stood in front of you in a suit with his hair done. "JJ?" You were shocked to see him in a suit, why was he in a suit? He crouched down in front of you moving the hair out of your face. "You're too beautiful to cry over him." He wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumb. "It still hurts." You said through tears and he cradled your face.

"I know it does but if you follow me it may hurt less." He stood up holding his hand out for you to take and you grabbed it standing up and wiping the sand off of your dress. He grabbed your hand leading you to the Twinkie and opening the door for you. "You're absolutely gorgeous." "You're absolutely handsome." JJ looked at your lips wanting to kiss you badly but he smiled at you instead his dimples showing. He closed the door gently jogging to the other side and getting in.

He drove to the Chateau opening the door for you and leading you into the backyard near the lake. It was decorated with string lights and balloons and a table with some cupcakes. There was a table set up with a red cloth a laptop and speakers placed on it. "It's not much but-" "It's perfect J, thank you." You cut him off stepping towards him and placing your hands on his chest, kissing him on the cheek.

Now

You were home alone taking a warm bath with a face mask taking a self-care night when all of a sudden your doorbell rang. You got out wrapping your robe around you and took the mask off heading downstairs. You looked in the peephole to see JJ standing on your porch with a bruised left cheek. You opened the door pulling him inside looking at his face and the deep cut on the side of his face.

"Let me get dressed. Wait in the bathroom." You went into your room and put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You headed into the bathroom got the first aid kit starting to clean his cut. "What the hell happened?" "Rafe was talking about you in an inappropriate way." After you did home stitches on the cut you started to soak his bruises with a wet cloth before grabbing a bag of ice. "So you fought him?" You frowned, you appreciated JJ defending you but not getting himself beat up because of it.

"He looks worse." He chuckled and you did too shaking your head. "JJ. Please don't get into fights over me." Taking the ice out of his hand giving him a break and holding it for him. "I would get into a million fights for you." He whispered close against your lips. "Why JJ? Why goes through all this pain for me?" "Because I love you Y/N! I've been in love with for years."

You placed the ice down placing your hands on his neck and kissing him sweetly pulling away and resting your forehead on his. "I love you too JJ."

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you

[shadowdaddies]

would you write something for vesta blackbeak? she’s always teasing, so it’d be nice to see her being the subject of it for once

some of the thirteen find her holding hands with a crochan witch and vesta doesn’t heard the end of it

take care, enjoy your day! 💌

hi my love! ty for your patience with this one, I'm still working through requests from the holidays. I love writing for the witches so much, this was so fun to write💜💜

New Beginnings

Vesta Blackbeak x Reader

Hopping from your redwood broom, you landed on the grass outside of the warrens with a thud. Heads turned, Ironteeth witches looking on with a combination of admiration and jealousy at your flying abilities. With a flip of your hair, you sent the group a wink as you walked towards the armory where you stored your brooms.

A flash of red hair caught your eye, and you glanced sidelong with a knowing smirk at the witch whose golden eyes were locked on you. Vesta’s usual arrogance was absent, her pale cheeks slightly flushed as she tracked the sway of your hips. 

With a small wave of your fingers in her direction, you released a small laugh as Vesta’s blush deepened, her friends quickly taking note as they snickered at her reaction to you.

Entering the armory, you set your broom alongside the others, turning as you heard a familiar voice call your name. Manon strode through the door, eyes alight with an amusement you rarely saw from her. 

“There is a group of witches going into town for drinks tonight. Several Ironteeth will be going, and I would appreciate your help in convincing Crochan witches - including yourself - to go, as I know the influence you have with them.” You had developed a loose friendship with Manon since she came into her role as Queen, assisting her with the unification of Ironteeth and Crochan clans. She often came to you with requests like these, and you were more than willing to help her in her efforts.

“Of course. I will speak to some of the others, and see who I can convince to go,” you confirmed, nodding respectfully to your Queen.

Manon gave you a grateful smile, nodding her head slightly in thanks. “I am appreciative, as always. As are Asterin, Sorrel, and Vesta...” Manon’s eyes assessed you, lips twitching upward as she tracked the faint blush that dusted your cheeks at Vesta’s name. “They will all be there tonight as well,” the Queen added, golden eyes shimmering with delight as she turned and walked out the door.

Swallowing nervously, you made your way to your quarters to recruit a group to go out this evening. A surprising number of witches agreed, everyone seemingly eager to let loose and enjoy the night. 

The moment you stepped into the tavern that evening, you could feel her eyes on you. Red hair shone like a bright flame as Vesta watched you from where she leaned against the bar, half-interested in her conversation with Sorrel. 

Her keen focus - eyes raking over your figure as you removed the cape from your shoulders - granted you the boldness to approach her. As you reached the spot where she perched, you ordered a drink from the barkeep and turned to face her. This close, it was impossible to ignore her beauty, the disarming smile she gave you.

“Are you listening?” a swat to Vesta’s arm drew both of you from the moment, turning to see Sorrel staring at her before the dark-haired witch noticed you with a smirk. Her eyes flicked back to Vesta, grin deepening to reveal dimples on her cheeks. “Ah, I see you have found a more interesting conversation partner,” Sorrel snickered, grabbing her drink from the counter before spotting a table full of witches and striding towards them.

Vesta peered at you cautiously, that same blush from earlier brightening her alabaster skin somehow making her appear even more beautiful. With a nod of thanks to the bartender, you picked up your drink. “Cheers, to the Ironteeth-Crochan witches,” you murmured, admiring Vesta’s full lips as they spread into a smile.

“Cheers, to new beginnings,” she murmured, taking a sip of her drink before glancing around the room. Her eyes stopped on a side door before flicking to yours, holding out her hand in invitation. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you accepted her hand, fingers interlocking with hers as you let the beautiful witch guide you outside. 

Dim lights twinkled on a chilly side street, the area empty with the exception of a few chairs that were left against the wall. “Here,” you gestured to the chairs, pulling two of them up next to each other as you took a seat. 

Conversation with Vesta came easy, her charming demeanor quelling any reservations you had. You had lost track of how long the conversation went on, time only told by the emptiness of your drink glasses as you set them on the ground. 

A cold wind blew through, sending a chill through you that made you wish you’d left your cloak on earlier. Noticing your discomfort, Vesta opened up her own cloak, scooting her chair until the wooden seat clacked against your own. “Here, I’ll keep you warm,” she whispered, shockingly tender as she awaited your reaction.

With a goofy grin, you saddled up next to her, savoring her warmth and the smell of cinnamon as she wrapped her cloak around the both of you. The vibration from her chest as she spoke comforted you as conversation continued, lulling you into her cozy hold. 

You had somehow ended up in her lap, legs draped over hers as you lay half-asleep in Vesta’s arms. The door swung open, slightly stirring you before Vesta hissed at the intruders, pressing a kiss to your hair as she whispered for you to go back to sleep.

Asterin and Sorrel were bent over in silent laughter at the sight while Vesta glared back. Manon simply smiled on, satisfaction in her eyes as she teased, “Vesta Blackbeak, man-eater and Crochan-cuddler.” Asterin and Sorrel laughed louder at that, rousing you from your sleepy state with a yawn as you looked up to see them all standing around you.

Blushing sheepishly at Manon, you greeted the Witch Queen, who greeted you back before shoving her giggling friends through the door, leaving you alone with Vesta. 

“Your friends are very amused by us,” you noted quietly.

Vesta swallowed nervously. “They’ve... I am not usually this affectionate,” she admitted slowly. 

Sitting up, you moved to straddle her lap as your hands threaded through her fiery hair. Her warm chest brushed yours as you pulled her impossibly close. “Neither am I, but here’s to new beginnings,” you whispered, lips brushing hers as you pulled her in for a kiss.

#throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #vesta blackbeak #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #vesta blackbeak x reader #vesta x reader #vesta tog #ironteeth witches #crochan witches #tog imagine #tog #tog x reader #tog x reader fluff #tog x you #manon blackbeak #asterin blackbeak #sorrel blackbeak #manon throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fluff #tog fanfic #tog series #tog fluff

[godbirdart]

Heyo, hope you're doing well and healing from surgery continues to go smooth. I'm not sure if this was asked before and hope it's an okay ask. How do you usually allocate your time between doing commissions, personal art, life, and everything in between?

let me start with: i have a very very unhealthy work life. i'm not gonna sugarcoat it, not gonna glorify The Grind™ because What I Do Is Unhealthy. It's an ongoing issue, and in recent months I've been trying to do more to fix it.

I habitually put in 12+ hour days, often five or six days of the week. I will be at my tablet from dawn until dusk. This isn't always spent drawing; it's also emails, website updates, menial administrative things and promoting my work. This is solely because I am a chronic workaholic. Even as I was recovering from this major surgery at the beginning of the month, Physically Unable to do much for the first week, my mind kept fussing over the work I needed to get done when I got back. It's Very difficult for me to relax and simply Do Nothing.

Now, this isn't to say I don't see people or talk with friends. I do, I socialize as much as my introverted self can handle. But my work has very plainly taken over my life to the point that it's eclipsed any personal alone time I could have. Tragically, it's a double-edged sword. I would love to be whisking my matcha and enjoying it in a little sunbeam but alas, bills keep knockin at my door.

That, and I genuinely Do Love working!! I love drawing for people!!

ALL THAT SAID THOUGH, I recently relocated over the summer. My new location offers a lot more opportunity to separate work and personal time with a physical barrier. It's easy to say "oh I can do little a work as a treat" when your tablet is Right There. Now that it's jailed in its own room I've found it a bit easier to say "no, I need a breather today actually" and sit down on my balcony and simply watch the world or play the video games I've been neglecting all year. I'm also making adjustments with my workload to better fit the schedule I need. If I keep chipping at this and taking the breathers I'm supposed to, I should have it all sorted by the end of the year. I have amazing people behind me kicking my ass and swatting me with a broom every time I try to overwork, and I'm grateful to have them to keep me in check while I straighten out my work-life balance. I have so many MXTX books I need to finish I want to read about my blorbos so bad ;;

TLDR: I work too much and am doing my best to get a grip on it. I want to be able to actually take a Real vacation for a month someday.

#long post

[hannahhook7744]

You crazy-assed cosmonaut!;

Summary: Hades gets in a fist fight with a thirteen year old in the parking lot of Ursula’s Fish and Chips.  Trigger warnings: violence, child-adult fighting, swearing, theft, implied food insecurity, etc. Gift for @igetthedisneybox . I will post this on ao3 later.

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

Oc Guide:

Zee Snoops is Madam Medusa's daughter.

Nate Stiltskin is Rumplestiltskin's son.

Hannah Hook is Captain Hook's daughter.

Kailani ‘Clever’ Athanasiou, is the daughter of Ursula and Dr. Facilier.

Tiger Khan is Shere Khan's adopted human daughter.

D.E Anonymous's parentage is unknown.

Tommy Wonderful is Misty the wonderful witch's daughter.

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

In hindsight, fist fighting the dad of like… four of her friends…was not the smartest move thirteen year old Diamond Zoë 'Zee' Snoops had made. 

Especially not when the man in question was a god…

But, the brunette refused to regret it or back out now.

Even if fist fighting Hades in the parking lot of Ursula’s fish and Chips over one seaweed smoothie, two slightly used candies, and one curdled pudding was probably gonna be the last thing she ever did.

Hopefully Hannah wouldn’t revive her just to kill her again when she found out about this if she did end up dying. 

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

Kailani grimaced, watching in horror from inside as Zee got Hades in a chokehold. Glancing over hesitantly at Tiger, D.E, and Tommy. “Should we… should we stop ‘em?”

Little eight year old Tommy was peeking through her hands, too scared to watch without the barrier of her hands in the way. Wiggling on her stool so much that her gerbil (who’s name the merperson couldn’t quite remember) nearly fell off her shoulder. 

D.E (who’s age and face they still didn’t know) sat up in the rafters of the restaurant, peeking out the hole in the roof that Kailani’s mother still refused to get fixed as she sipped on her third anchovy smoothie of the hour.

Neither of them seemed to hear her.

But Tiger, who was on what had to be her third  basket of fried shrimp shells, did hear her. “Let them fight. I wanna see who wins.”

Kailani sighed, draping a hand towel over her shoulder and crossing her arms. “You know Hannah's gonna kill them both, right?”

Tiger waved her off, not looking bothered in the slightest. “No she won't. Just relax and enjoy the show. This is WAAAAY better than what Boreadon has on Tv!”

Nate snorted from under the counter, causing Kailani to jump back in fright. “You got that right. If I have to sit through ONE more episode of Toddlers without Tiaras, I’m going to steal Beast’s first born child—”

“WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET THERE?! HOW THE FUCK—ARE YOU EATING THE CANDY STASH?!”

The blonde didn’t even blink before answering  with a non apologetic “No.” As if he wasn’t surrounded by candy wrappers; the lying rat bastard. 

The teal haired girl didn’t hesitate and grabbed the broom from the corner before Nate could fully escape from the small space he’d lodged himself in. Quickly swatting at him with it. 

“Ow! Ow! Clever, come on dearie—OW!”

“Don’t you dearie me, you blonde worm!”

“Worm?! EXCUSE YOU, I AM ONE OF THE MOST PO—”

“Annoying moochs of the isle!”

“I AM NOT A MOOC—OUCH!”

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

Zee bit Hades’ hand, hard when he tried to pull her off his back. Causing him to stumble and  yowl with pain. 

“Listen little girl, I am NOT—” He flung her off of him. “In the mood for these games—”

She lunged at him. “Give me back my candy and my soda!”

“I CAN’T! I ALREADY ATE THEM!” He tried (and failed to doge), growling in irritation as the teen smacked him. “WILL YOU STOP IT?!”

The brunette snarled at him. “NO!”

"HADES—"

"DAD—"

"FATHER—"

"TÁTA—"

"ZEE—"

"—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

Hades and Zee both froze, slowly turning to see one very angry Persephone, one exasperated Hannah Hook, and all of Hades very shocked children staring at them.

Persephone had her hands on her hips.

And Hannah?

Well, Hannah just gave Zee a look that told her that she was going to be on toilet duty for a long, long time if she didn't like her explanation...

So, the two of them did the only thing either of them could think of—quickly pointing at one another.

"It was him—"

"It was her—"

"—What no it wasn't!"

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #wicked world #disney #descendants au #disney descendants au #the marvelous misadventures of hannah hook and co #the marvelous misadventures of hannah hook #descendants original characters #fanfiction #crack treated seriously #etc

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found - Chapter Two

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond  (established OFC. Although you can just read this one and know what’s going on)

Warnings: profanity, very brief mentions of kinks (choking, hair pulling, anal), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, brief mentions of domestic abuse

Tagging: @asirensrage, @residentdormouse, @munstysmind, @themaradaniels, @tragiclyhip, @secretaryunpaid, @starryeyes2000, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag​, @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/110304306

TAG LIST IS OPEN!

(Why not have two headers? Am I right?)

He steals glimpses at her as he drives.  Clad in a simple blank tank and a pair of tiny denim shorts;  legs bent at the knee and her bare feet perched on her seat.  An open copy of Cosmopolitan rests against her bare thighs as she chews absentmindedly on her bottom lip;  eyes hidden by a pair of aviator shades with vibrant purple lenses.  He remembers when she’d bought them; a day trip into Broome shortly after they began the renos on the shack and they’d needed a break from the chaos.  He hadn’t been out of rehab for that long and had still been feeling the random and unexpected pangs of addiction; random moments of desperately needing even the smallest sip of booze or the high that a handful of Oxy would supply.  His mood had been all over at the time;  feeling weak for wanting to succumb to his demons yet angry that he didn’t have access to his favourite forms of escape.  And she was always the one he took it out on;  barking at her over the smallest disagreements and almost ripping her head off at even the most simple of frustrations.  Yet she’d never returned his anger with some of her own; understanding the difficulties that came with battling addiction and knowing that the demons -when in control- didn’t allow him to see things rationally and logically.   

They had stopped at one of the stores in the downtown core and she’d tried the shades on.  Turning to him with her head cocked to the side and a hand planted firmly on her hip;  looking up at him as she asked if they were ‘her’.   She’d been so cute;  those sun kissed cheeks and sunburned nose and that brilliant smile.  Her ponytail swaying from side to side as she bounced up and down on her heels,  anxiously awaiting his answer.   He’d teased her about the colour;  declaring he’d one day come home and she’d have the entire damn house done in various shades of purple.   And when she’d stuck her tongue out and swatted his ass in response, he hadn’t been able to hold back the smile;  grateful that she wasn’t taking his moodiness personally and feeling thankful for the moments of lightness and levity that she always seemed to bring to his life.

Even then…so early in their relationship…he’d known just how lucky he was.  Hell, he’d known that the second she put one foot into his life, unexpectedly showing up on his doorstep and unknowingly beginning the process of turning his entire world upside down.     While their introduction had been brief and there’d been an initial awkwardness to their  ‘getting to know you’ chat in his kitchen, he’d found himself intrigued by her. Easily drawn to the walking contradiction before him;   the juxtaposition between the weakness and vulnerability he’d perceived,   and the quiet, unassuming confidence that she exuded.  Unlike Nik who would always wander the place and shake her head and grumble under her breath about the ‘state of things’, Esme  hadn’t even noticed the large assortment of empty whiskey and beer bottles that littered the counters.  Or  the vials of Oxycontin that all but spilled out onto the table top.  And if she had, she hadn’t acknowledged them;  instead indulging in small talk about the heat and his dog as she leaned back against the sink with her arms crossed over her chest.  Flashing that killer smile as she graciously accepted the offer of a drink and noticing -for the second time in less than ten minutes-  that little spark of…something… that flooded through him when their fingertips briefly touched.    

He had tried to convince himself that he was imagining things.   Shit like that didn’t really exist; an immediate connection and attraction between two people only ever seen in movies or  heard of in storybooks. That  even if it WAS possible, it  certainly didn’t  happen to guys like him;  an alcoholic mercenary with an addiction to painkillers and a relentless death wish.   Someone like her wouldn’t give him a time of day;  a well educated and seemingly well adjusted woman would need -and deserve- someone that could provide her with more stability.   A partner that could give her the attention and adoration that she deserved; someone solid and dependable that didn’t come with mountains of baggage and a host of ghosts and demons continuously haunting them.  

 Yet while he’d been adamant to ignore what he’d felt and experienced during their short time together, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her;  embarrassed by just how much he was looking forward to seeing her again.  And finding himself -completely sober and lucid- laying in bed that night replaying their meeting; that brilliant smile and infectious laugh and the way those huge dark eyes had  sparkled up at him.  Allowing himself to venture even further; wading into dangerous territory as he recalled the way one of the straps of her tank top continuously slipped off her shoulder. And how perfectly those little jean shorts had fit. Accentuating the curves of her ass and showing off the elaborate and colourful tattoo that began at the top of her right foot; snaking up and  around her leg and ending at the back of her knee.  

Even now he feels the embarrassment; recalling how even the smallest of things had driven him completely insane and he’d found himself -desperate and alone- pleasuring himself the thought of her.  His imagination running wild;  how that little body would feel against his and how incredible being buried deep inside her would be.  What her skin would feel like and how she’d taste and how his name would sound coming out of her mouth;  a mixture of sighs and whimpers and screams.  Indulging in the thought of noises she’d make when his head was between her thighs;   her hands tightly gripping his hair and her body arching off the bed as he tormented her with fingers and tongue.   And he’s certainly never confessed to what he’d done;   feeling pathetic and ashamed that he’d allowed himself to get that caught up in someone he barely knew.  

It had been impossible to control;  sexual and the intellectual attraction coming together to make one hell of  powerful aphrodisiac. With less than twenty-four hours remaining before the start of the mission, things began to quickly unravel;  Esme successfully  tracking him down in the hotel bar after a day of team meetings and strategic planning.  Capturing his attention as she paused in the doorway of the busy establishment;  hands on her hips as she chewed on her bottom lip and her  eyes scanned the crowd.    Despite being a notorious introvert that preferred a life of loneliness and solitude, he’d experienced a rush like nothing he’d ever felt before;  a powerful mix of hope and anticipation and nervousness.  Desperately wanting to be the one she was looking for;  anxious to be alone in her company instead of surrounded by the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the team.   She’d beamed when she’d finally spotted him;  a smile that accentuated her chubby cheeks and crinkled the bridge of her nose and the corners of her eyes.  Then she’d given a tiny wave and a little bounce of the heels before heading in his direction; weaving her way through the sea of people and ignoring the countless offers of dinner and drinks tossed her way.  

And fuck, that body. The one he’d fantasized about only thirty six hours before.  A welcome and mouth watering sight; on display in a denim skirt that fit like a second skin and a tattered and worn Led Zeppelin t-shirt cut just above the navel. The thin, loose fabric slipping off her shoulders and giving a sneak peek at the thin straps of her black lace bra.   That alone had set his entire body on fire: every nerve-ending burning and throbbing and screaming for even the smallest form of relief. Forcing him to order another drink right there and then; downing it one gulp as he hoped and prayed she wouldn’t notice the stirrings of desire visible through his cargo pants.  He didn’t want to be THAT obvious;  hoping to hold onto some semblance of self-control.  She was worth more than that;  an object of lust in the eyes and the hands of a touch-starved man who hadn’t been with a woman in four months.   He’d been worried she’d think that’s all he was interested in;  a couple of rolls in the hay before everything was forced to become purely business.  And he hadn’t wanted to deal with the awkwardness that would undoubtedly come afterwards;  the uneasiness that occurs when you know someone intimately but are relegated to ‘all work and no play’. 

It had been enjoyable.  Securing  a booth at the back of the bar; tucked  away from the crowd as they shared pitchers of beer, downed shots,  and sampled local cuisine.  The booze giving him the liquid confidence he needed to be completely relaxed in her presence;  a fish out of water when it came to actually keeping company with a woman outside of no strings attached sex.   She’d enough personality for the both of them; talkative and lively with sparkling eyes and beautiful  smile and infectious giggle.  Completely unlike anyone he’d ever come across in his time on the job;  lonely women in seedy bars,  the occasional female merc from a  foreign country, mistresses of ‘marks’ that had offered themselves -sexually speaking- in favour of sparing their men.   The latter was always a mistake and not something he’s proud of; taking the ladies up on their offer but still pulling the trigger when the time finally came.  

Esme was different. Intelligent and  witty and -despite her tiny size- a  total spitfire.  Not afraid to speak her mind and always ready to vehemently defend her opinions.    So full of life.  Energetic and bubbly and always so quick with the witty comebacks and playful banter.  And that inadvertent flirting;  the way she’d twirl her hair or ‘accidentally’ brush her foot against his or how she’d tilt her head to the side and give a sly yet beautiful smile.   

She’d also been genuinely curious about HIM; avoiding ‘job talk’ in favour of peppering him with more personal questions.  Listening intently as he talked about growing up in Australia  and his love for surfing,  his career in the army and his time with SASR. Somehow surviving the gruelling and punishing training and then serving numerous tours throughout Iraq and Afghanistan.   Holding back pieces of pertinent and possibly damaging information; the truth behind his departure from the military and his switch to mercenary work.  Trust didn’t come easily to him, and while he felt comfortable with her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else,  he also felt the need to protect both himself and HER.  He hadn’t lived a good life;  he’d taken lives -whether deserving or not- for nothing more than a pay check and he’d made horrible decisions and hurt those he’d loved and who had loved in return.  And he’d not only been worried about offering up too much, too soon,  but had been afraid to see  disappointment and disgust in her eyes.

They’d come so close; teetering on the edge of abandoning not only all of their worries and concerns, but every ounce of self control.    His much taller and heavier frame pining hers against her hotel room door; feeling the warmth that radiated from her body and the press of her hard, inviting nipples through the fabric of her shirt.  Despite his past sexual promiscuities,  he couldn’t remember wanting someone THAT badly;  a need and a hunger that was so profound and all consuming that all rational thought and logic seemed impossible.  Spurred on by the way her hands clung to the front of his shirt and those enormous dark eyes looked up at him;  filled with longing and desire that clearly matched his own.   There was no bigger turn-on; knowing that someone like her -so beautiful and intelligent and stable- wanted him just as much.   

But the universe had other ideas.  Other plans.   And just as he accepted her proposition and their lips briefly touched, his conscience intervened; reminding him that she was worth way more than just being a notch on his bedpost. He felt…things.    Stirrings that went far beyond just the sexual; an attraction not just to her body but to that enormous personality and compassionate mind.   He couldn’t do that to her;  spend the night delivering -and succumbing to- the thralls of pleasure without being able to promise so much more.  He wasn’t good for her and could never be the kind man that she needed and deserved; a drug and booze-addicted mercenary with numerous layers of baggage and a death wish.

That’s why he walked away.   The knowledge that he could never give her more.  He could try.   He could devote days, weeks, and even months to being the kind of partner and friend she desired.   And maybe they would have a good thing;  a fairly stable relationship and a commitment they could build on and strengthen.   But he’d only hurt her in the end.   He’d fail at keeping himself clean and sober and she’d be left heartbroken and disappointed.    

That’s why he walked away.  Opting to break his own heart in favour of protecting hers.

It HAD been temporary, however;  their argument in Dhaka opened up floodgates that neither was able to control.  And when it became readily apparent that he couldn’t scare her away, he’d momentarily hesitated in going further; telling her that once it started…THEY started…he wouldn’t be able to stop. In response, she’d reached under his shirt and dragged a nail across his stomach; following the top of his pants from hip to hip before settling on his belt buckle.

“I won’t want you to.”

And no sooner did those words escape her mouth, the last of his resolve finally crumbled.   

*****

“You keep staring at me,” Esme playfully scolds.

“Admiring. Not staring.”

Tilting her head to the side, she smiles and reaches out to rest a palm upon his thigh.  The way he immediately reciprocates causes butterflies  to spring to life within her stomach;  heart swelling when he drops a hand from the wheel in order to push his fingers through hers.   It’s those simple, little things that often say so much;  the kisses pressed to her cheeks and her temples,  the fingers that comb through her hair,  the strong arms that wrap around her from behind and tuck her against a warm, solid chest.  Being around him and enjoying his company comes so easily;  the comfort that one feels when in the presence of an old, trusted friend.  So many enjoyable moments.  The car rides spent chatting and listening to music or the prepping dinner side by side.   The early evenings out on the front with coffee and tea; sitting on the edge of the deck as they watch the sunset.  Those chilly nights spent in front of the fire; wrapped in each other’s arms in the confines of a tightly zipped sleeping bag.  The content of having someone to fall asleep next to and wake up with;  the sound of their breathing and the press of their body against yours.  And  the sharing of  sleepy good morning smiles and long, lazy kisses)

“What’cha reading?”

“An article about kinks. The stuff that is the most  ‘in’ right now.  And you know, I’m not usually one to kink shame and judge what folks  do in the bedroom,  but  I’m actually starting to worry about some people. Unless…”  Balancing the magazine on her thighs, she reaches across her body for the bottle of water in the cup holder between the seats and takes a swig. “...I’m just getting really vanilla in my old age.”

“There is nothing vanilla about you.  Not in the slightest.”

“Maybe not now. But I was such a sweet,  innocent little bean when I met you.  And then you just went and seduced me and corrupted me and…”

Tyler scoffs.  “You are definitely not vanilla. And you’re not old. You JUST  turned thirty.”

“That’s old.”

“If that’s old, what am I?  I’m going to be  thirty-six.”

“Four years away from forty?”  She casually flips a page in her magazine. “That’s ancient.”

“Do you want me to pull over to the side of the road and kick you out of the truck? You wanna walk?  Because it’s a long way in either direction, believe me.”

Laughing, she drops his hand in favour of reaching for his face;  skimming her knuckles along his unshaven jaw.  “You’d never.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“There’s nothing  wrong with getting old. I mean look at you…”   She playfully tugs at some of the short, wiry hair that graces his face. “...rocking all that gray.”

“Excuse you? Gray?  Where are you seeing gray?”

“Here…”   She taps a fingertip against his chin and then runs a nail across his cheek.  “Here.  And…”  She rubs at his temple.  “...a little bit here.”

“You really DO want to walk, don’t you.”

“Like I said, you’d never kick me out.  Not out of the truck, not out of the house. And especially not out of bed.”

Grinning, he reaches over to pluck the bottle of water from her hand and takes a swig.  “I may not be the smartest guy on earth, but not I’m not a total dumbass.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Esme muses, and slides her hand to the back of his neck;  lightly and repeatedly scratching at the bottom of his hairline.  “With having gray hair.   It looks good.  Damn good, actually.”

“It’s bad enough that I FEEL eighty some days. Do I really have to look like it?”

Rolling her eyes, she turns her attention back to her magazine.   “You don’t look THAT old.”

He stares at her pointedly. 

“You don’t look old. At all.  You look your age.  And there’s nothing wrong with that. The same way there’s nothing wrong with having gray hair.  Gray hair is sophisticated. Debonair.   And…to some women…incredibly sexy.”

“Are you including yourself in that group? When you say ‘some women’?”

“I happen to find your gray hairs insanely hot.  Especially the ones in your beard.  Trust me, when I point them out? I’m definitely NOT complaining.”

“Hmmm…”   He runs a palm over the side of his face. “...maybe it’s not so bad after all.”

“You know…”  She adjusts her position in her seat; crossing her legs and placing her feet in her lap.   “...it’s kinda cute.  How even the toughest and meanest enjoy compliments and validation.”

“Who you calling cute?”

“That’s what you’re offended by? Being called ‘cute’?  You have an aversion to that but don’t mind being called mean?”

“I know I’m mean.   Or at least I can be. If someone deserves it.  But ‘cute’?  There’s no way in hell I’m cute.  Cute is for kittens and puppies and babies.  Not for guys like me.”

“Oh I’m sorry.   I’m sorry being called ‘cute’  upsets your delicate sensibilities. Mister Big, Bad, Mercenary Man.”

He smirks. “That’s better.”

“For your information, I happen to find you very cute. At times.  It’s not twenty hours  a day, seven days a week thing with you.  But you DO  have your moments.  And I happen to like them.   I enjoy that side of you.”

“I’m not sure if you’re making this any better, or…”

“I get to see you in ways other people don’t.  In ways you don’t probably don’t even see yourself.  We live together.  We have this nice little existence; where you don’t have to always be on guard and you don’t have to live up to the image people have of you.  You can just be yourself with me.   And here’s a lot  more to Tyler Rake than a lot of folks  realize.”

“All good stuff, I hope.”

“Very good stuff,” she assures him.   “You’re a different Tyler away from the job.  Especially when it’s just the two of you.  You’re comfortable being  yourself when it’s just me around.  You’re attentive and sweet and you spoil me every chance you get.  You’re a softer version of you.”

He frowns.

Esme huffs in exasperation. “You’re impossible.  There’s nothing wrong with being those things.  It isn’t going to emasculate you, you know. You’re not going to lose your balls just because you show your softer, gentler side.   Just because people have bought into the stories and have made you out to be some kind of robotic killing machine, doesn’t mean it’s true.   You’re not any of those things.   Whether you want to believe it or not.”

“It’s what I do.   Kill people.”

“It isn’t what you do. Sometimes it’s PART of what you do.  Not every job involves having to kill someone.  You’re not a monster, Tyler.  Regardless of how you see yourself. Do you really think I’d be here if you were? Do you really think I would have caved in  Dhaka if you were a terrible person? Would I have stuck around?  Made a life here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you just have shitty taste in men. I mean, from what I know about your ex…”

“Perhaps my past choices weren’t the greatest.  But choosing you? A life with you? Smartest move I’ve ever made.   Things are good.  Not perfect, but good. Really good, actually.   I know it hasn’t been the easiest six months and that we’re still learning how to co-exist under the same roof and we’re still discovering a lot about each other, but it hasn’t been horrible. Far from it.”

“I don’t know. The way you hog all the blankets and talk in your sleep…”

“I am not taking criticism from a man who snores like you do.  And if I almost fall into the toilet at three am one more time…”

“I keep you on your toes, munchkin. I keep you young.”

“You give me gray hair and anxiety is what you do.  Maybe even an ulcer.”

“But you stick around. I notice you don’t leave.”

“Because I know how miserable you’d be without me.  And  I want to spare your delicate feelings.”

He smirks.

“And I suppose I hang around because I’d miss you.  Because I’d be miserable without you.”

“Aww look at you…”  he chides,  and reaches out to run a palm  over her hair.  One of those small yet meaningful forms of affection; a man that’s gone so long without meaningful physical touch and the purest forms of intimacy that he often struggles to initiate or accept it.  “...getting all  sappy and shit.”

“Don’t push your luck.  Even with your soft side and your occasional cute ways, you’re  still an enormous pain in my ass.”

“Take it as a compliment.  That I’m such a challenge.  That I can’t think of anyone else in this world I’d rather annoy for the rest of my life.”

It rolls so casually off his tongue that she initially wonders if she’d imagined it;  such a subtle admittance of the things that he’s been feeling and thinking.  An unassuming way of letting her know that he’s ‘all in’; the profession of craving something long term. Permanent.  Combined with their earlier conversation revolving around possible career changes, it nurtures her budding confidence;  giving strength to the whispers inside of her that want so desperately to confess her love for him.  But that worry still remains;  the intense fear of rejection and humiliation. Years ago Mark had destroyed every ounce of her self-confidence; tainting not only her view of herself, but of love and relationships in general.    And while logically she knows that Tyler is nothing like Mark and trusts he would never hurt her,  the hesitancy still remains.   Proof that sometimes,  the internal wounds and scars are far worse than what’s left on the surface. 

“So what does it say?”

Esme blinks.  The sound of his voice snapping her out of her reverie.  “What?”

“The article. About the kinks.  You never told me what it said.”

“Oh…”  She chews on her bottom lip and twirls a strand of her around her index finger as she turns her attention to the magazine in her lap.  “...well…you’ll be happy to know that under normal circumstances, we’re actually considered relatively kinky.   We’re able to check off four of the top seven. And according to the answers I circled, we  also apparently have a very  healthy dom/sub relationship; we are both big into consent and we employ safe words while enjoying choking, being tied up,  spanking, and hair pulling.”

“You mean YOU enjoy things. Being done to you.”

“You’re also a ‘soft dom’.”

“What does that mean?”

“Basically, you’re not a sadist and you don’t get off on humiliation and degradation.  You’re aggressive and in charge, but at the same time you give praise and you’re attentive and caring.  Like yeah, you’re okay with the choking and the hair pulling, but at the same time you’re telling me I’m beautiful or I’m a good girl.”

“So that’s a good thing?”

“A very good thing.   It’s healthy.  For us, anyway. Considering things that have happened in the past…”

“Which doesn’t need to be talked about.”  

There’s a lingering rage;  a deep and powerful hatred for a man he’s never met but would love to choke the life out of.  In the same way he’d opened in Dhaka about his son’s battle with cancer and the horrible decision he’d made near the end, she’d been nothing  but raw and honest with him.  Detailing her marriage to a complete monster; subjected to horrific beatings and barraged daily with vile, degrading names.  Twice he’d put her in the hospital. First, a three-day stay with busted ribs and bruised kidneys and then four-week stint; two of those in the ICU with a bleed on the brain and shattered jaw, busted ear drum, and various cuts that had needed stitching.  She’s too good for that;  too beautiful and compassionate to be settling for a man that doesn’t even come close to deserving her. And there are many times he questions  his own worth;  wondering just what the hell she is ever doing wasting her time with the likes of him.   

“We’re not as freaky as we could be,”   she says,  and he’s thankful that she’s steered herself away from the painful stroll down memory lane.  “According to this, anyway.”

“Is it a level of freaky we want to be at or…?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What’s your opinion on pissing on someone? Or having someone piss on you?”

He briefly glances over at her. “What?”

“The old golden shower. It’s growing in popularity. More and more people are into it.  What do you think about it?”

“I think it’s fucking gross.  Why the hell would I want someone to piss on me? Why would I want to piss on them? Wait…”  He frowns.  “...is this your way of telling me you’re into that sort of thing? ‘Cause if you’re hoping it’s going to happen, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

“No! God no! Totally not my thing.  Like I said, I don’t normally kink shame.  I don’t care what other people are into it.  But if someone ever even thought about peeing on me?  They’d die a very painful and gruesome death.”

“Good. Because if you ever ask me to do something like that…”

“So I take it you won’t ever be…relieving yourself…on me?”

“Fuck no.  What is wrong with you? We’ve been together for six months.  Half a year.   Have I ever asked to do anything even remotely close to that? “

“No. But you could be just biding your time.  Being on your best behaviour for as long as possible. Until you nail me with something like that.  You could be a really dirty bastard and I won’t  find out about it for a year or two.   We’re talking even dirtier than you already are. You could be hiding some really weird shit from me.”

“You could be hiding some from me.  How do I know you’re not going to one day want to stick one of those plug things up my ass? You know, the ones with tails on them.”

She grins devilishly. “Would you like me to one day stick one of those up your ass?”

“No.  I wouldn’t.  So if you’ve got that in that beautiful but twisted little head of yours…”

“I promise the only thing I will ever put in your butt is a finger. Or two.   Because we both know how much you like when I’m…”

He scowls. “Esme…I swear to God…”

She throws her head back as she laughs, then reaches out to snatch the ballcap from his head.  “You’re too much,” she declares, and pulls the hat down over her hair.  “And you say I get embarrassed easily? Look at the big, bad, mercenary man…”  She trails a fingertip along the outer edge of his ear.  “...blushing like hell over the mere mention of a butt plug.”

“I don’t blush.”

“Sure you don’t.  There’s no reason your cheeks and the tips of your ears are turning the most beautiful shade of pink.”

Chuckling, he pushes her hand away from the side of his face.  “Fuck off.”

“You’re way too cute, Tyler Rake.   Despite what you say.”

“You know, you’re awfully lucky YOU’RE cute. You know that, yeah? Because if you weren’t…”

“What would you do? If I wasn’t?  What would you do about it?  Nothing. And you know why? Because you’d be miserable as fuck without me.  You’d miss me.”

“Yeah…” A slow grin spreads across his face, and he once more takes her hand in his; squeezing tightly before setting them on his thigh.   “...I would.”

****

They find a reasonably priced hotel overlooking the beach;  a quaint and clean room with two double beds and a small balcony and heart shaped bathtub.  A far cry from the accommodations they’d stayed at in Dhaka;  a squalid place with a broken air conditioner and a toilet that didn’t flush properly and a shower too small for him to actually stand under.    Mismatched furniture and stains on the walls and ceiling;  a kitchenette filled with chipped and broken plates and glasses and rusted cutlery and a stove with only one working burner.   And the noise from outside;  the honking of horns and the chattering and yelling of hundreds within the market area.   Yet as miserable as it had been, they’d found a way to make it bearable;  two broken and hurting people losing themselves in each other and finding a remarkable level of solace and acceptance.  

He reminisces  about that crappy little hotel room now, as he stands in five feet of water.  holding onto a surfboard they’d rented nearly an hour before.  Esme’s idea after she spotted the stand as they walked along the beach; knowing of his love for the sport and expressing enthusiasm at the idea of him giving her a lesson. But it’s Dhaka that haunts his thoughts;  resurfacing at the times he feels the most content and relaxed.  And he thinks of the most mundane and unusual things;  of the pipes that shook and screamed whenever the water was turned on and the strong smell of vehicle exhaust that would waft up from the street.   

And her hands.  So small and so soft.  Nails raking across his shoulders and down his chest and back.  Gentle fingers exploring the various scars that littered his body and tracing his numerous tattoos.   The way they’d brush those longer strands of hair off his forehead and out his eyes.   Always so tender;  an affection and an adoration that he’d long been starved of. If he’d  ever experienced at all. 

“I’m not very good at this,” Esme laments, coughing and sputtering as she resurfaces;  shoving wet strands of hair away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to be. You’ve never tried surfing before.”

“But I can’t even stay up for more than ten seconds!”  Placing her hands on his shoulders, she uses them for balances as she climbs back onto the board. “I thought I’d be better than this. I mean, I HAVE snowboarded. I’m from Colorado! Same thing, right? Just switch the snow for the water and…”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been snowboarding.”

“We’re going to have to change that.  Maybe we’ll take a trip.  Like we talked about. In Dhaka. About how you’d come to Snowmass to visit me.”

“A lot‘s changed since we had that conversation.  You deciding to stay here,  us living together, talking about moving and buying a house. Not to mention there’s the whole me nearly dying thing.”

“That is definitely not a highlight I’ll include in the ‘year round up’ that I always include in my Christmas cards. “

“Oh Christ. You’re one of THOSE people.”

“And I’m damn proud of it. Nothing wrong with being a little ‘extra’.   I always wanted to be one of those moms that go all out at Christmas.  Right down to the matching onesies.”

“THE CIA could torture me for years and I still wouldn’t submit  to that.”

“You know, there are some people that have more power than the CIA.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Little brunettes with big brown eyes, tongue piercings, and smoking hot butts.”

“That’s a hell of a list. Where do I find someone off it?”

Scowling, she uses her foot to shovel water onto his face and chest.   “Asshole.”

“I will admit..”  His palms  slide up the back of her calves and thighs and then settle on her ass;  winking as his fingers dig through the fabric of her swimsuit and into the supple wish. “...you do have a really nice ass.”

“Just really nice? How insulting.  You certainly were calling it way better than that last night.   I seem to remember you being a little… worked up… and saying it was…and I quote…fucking amazing.”

“In my defence, you had me at your mercy.  Bent over the kitchen table like that?  Black lace thong?  You’re an evil genius.  You know exactly what you’re doing. At all times. You know how to get what you want.”

“Wrapped around my little finger, baby.  Those are the powers I’m talking about. That make me more powerful than any government agency or bad guy you could ever come across.  Won’t wear onesie pyjamas, huh? We’ll see about that!”

“You’re going to be one of those women that make me pose for pictures wearing that shit, aren’t you?  The whole house will be wearing the same thing;  me, you, the kids, the dog.”

She tries to play it off; as if the implication that he’s been planning for  the long term doesn’t excite her.  A by-product of her ex stripping away every ounce of self-confidence and trust she ever had;  the constant questioning of a person’s actions and words. Even when they ARE blatantly obvious.  “You’re planning on keeping me around for that long, are you?”

“Like I told you half a year ago. When you asked how long you could stick around for. You can stay as long as you want.”

“You also said ‘that’s okay too’.  When I asked ‘what if I never want to leave?’”

“And I meant you. You don’t have to go anywhere.  So unless you’re planning on cutting ME loose…”

“Not anytime soon,”  she teases, and uses a foot to ruffle his hair.    “And yes; I’m expecting you to wear a Christmas onesie.  And you’ll do it and you’ll love it. Every second of it. Want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you know the reward will make the temporary suffering worth it.”

“If the reward you’re talking about includes both of us naked or you on your knees in front of me…”

“What else would I be talking about? Like you said; I know how to get exactly what I want.”

“What you don’t know how to do?”   He gently moves her feet further apart, then grips the backs of her calves. “Is hold your balance.”

She scowls. “Am I really THAT bad?”

“Let’s put it this way; I admire your enthusiasm and your resiliency.”

“Don’t be such a knob!  I can do this!  I can learn!  Maybe not today, but I’m sure if we keep trying, I can get the hang of it. Make you proud.”

“Baby, you even being willing to try makes me proud.  The fact you wanted to do this? And that you’re this excited about it? Even when you do keep falling off?  I’m pretty damn proud.”

“It’s something you love.   Why wouldn’t I want to learn?  It’s something we could do together.”

“Yeah…”  He smiles up at her, and slowly and carefully releases his grip on her legs.  “...we could.  I’d like that.”

“I know you hate hearing this, but…”  Her hands resort to tightly clutching his hair in order to stay upright on the board.  “...you can be such a cutie.”

“I’m going to pretend I never heard you say that.”

“And here other people think you’re nothing but big muscles and meanness and…”  

 She loses her balance as a small, gentle wave rocks the board beneath her feet; losing the grip on his hair and shrieking as she again topples backwards into the water.  Already giggling when she breaches the surface;  hands frantically pushing wet hair away from her face and out of her eyes.   She’s never been more beautiful;  the sound of her laugh, water glistening on her deeply tanned skin, and the sunburn on her cheeks and nose causing her freckles to become more pronounced.  Possessing a ‘girl next door’ adorableness not expected of someone who has fought the battles she has; a youthful innocence that not even her nightmare of an ex could strip her of.  

“I DO really stink!”  She laughs as she swims towards him;  treading water as she rests her forearms on the surfboard. “Like really badly!”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.”  Resting an elbow on the board,  he reaches across with his free hand to smooth down her hair.  “Took me a long time to learn. Even to get used to standing up for more than ten seconds.”

“Bullshit. I refuse to believe it. Everyone knows that Australians are born knowing to surf.”

“That’s a lie.  We have to learn to surf. We’re only born  knowing how to wrestle crocs and punch out sharks.”

“Speaking of sharks…” She glances down at her feet; bubble gum pink toe nails shimmering in the water.

“Shark spotters will see them before they get anywhere near you.  And if something does go wrong and they do get that close? Don’t worry. I’ll choke a shark out for you.” 

“My hero.” Leaning across the board, she pecks his lips. “My knight in shining armour.  Or should I say ‘slightly tarnished armour’.”

“I like that a little better.  But it’ll have to be a small shark.  Not like a great white.  Or a hammerhead. Or anything like that.  Like a baby shark.”

Laughing, she scoops up a handful of water and tosses it into his face.  “For someone so cute, you can be such a shit head.”

“You’ve  called me that twice today. In the span of five minutes.”

“But I’ve thought about it a dozen or so times.  Listen, you can play the big, bad mercenary card for everyone else, but not for me.  I live with you.  I share a bed with you. I know all your little quirks. How big of a softie you can be.”

“And you’ve already been sworn to secrecy. Because if any of that ever gets out…”

“I know…I know. You have a reputation to uphold.  I will take your precious secret to the grave.  Or wait sixty years and then leak the proof to everyone we know.  You know, kinda like the files on who killed JFK.  Anyone involved will be dead and  no one can be held accountable. Or embarrassed.”

“I promise you that if things  get out even then, I’m coming back and haunting your ass.”

“Oh please. The only reason you’re coming back to haunt is because you like it so much.  It’s a nice ass.  A great ass, even.  You like looking at it and touching it. And doing things to it.”

“You’re lucky this water is as chilly as it is. ‘Cause talking about your ass like that…”

“Don’t worry. When we get back to the room, I’ll help you out with your shrinkage.  Make it all better.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I hope you do.”    

Kissing him once more,  she giggles when he prevents her from pulling away; fingers tangling in her dark, wet tresses as he deepens and intensifies things.   Until they’d met, she’d never been kissed like that; as if each one is better than the last and he can’t get enough of her.   Whether it be those sleepy kisses first thing in the morning or the frenzied and hungry in the midst of passion, no two are ever the same and she never tires of them;  the press of his body against her and the taste and the feel of his lips and the smell of his skin.

“You know, I was thinking…” Resting a forearm on the surfboard, she places her chin on top of it.  “...it would be really nice.  To be able to do stuff like this more often.  It’s fun. Doing things like this with you.”

“I’m just glad to have someone to do this shit with.   Not the same; doing it on your own.”

“I think you were a lot lonelier than you’ll actually admit to.  Before I came along.”

“My life certainly was a lot more boring. And a lot quieter. Not to mention  there was a lot less hair in my shower drain.”

She gives a derisive snort.   “And people say romance is dead!”

“It’s been…nice.   Having someone around.   Seeing their stuff all over the place.  Just knowing they’re there.  I don’t know…”  He loops hair behind one of her ears, then the other.  “...you know I’m not good with this kind of stuff.   Feelings. Words.  Words about feelings.”

“Well I’m just  happy you want to share things with me.  You love to surf.  What a better way to get to know each other more, right? Share the things we love.   I wish I was better at it, but…”

“Stick with me kid.  I’ll have you on your own two feet in no time. At least for a few seconds, anyway.”

“Who knows I could be a prodigy.  Once I get used to it. I could be a regular Kathy Slater.”

Tyler frowns.  “That’s Kelly Slater.  And it’s a guy.”

“Then a female version of him!  Once I get my balance, I could be a natural! I could be a pro!”

He stares at her pointedly.

“Okay…”   Esme  laughs.  “... maybe not. But staying up for thirty seconds would be nice.”

“You’ll get there.  Takes a while.  Practice makes perfect.”

“I also don’t have any Australian in me.  I bet there’s something in the blood. That makes you such a good surfer.”

“Baby. in the past six months,  you’ve had plenty of Aussie in you.”

“You’re disgusting!”

“In all the ways you like best.  But I agree with you.   It would be nice. To do more of this.  But living where we do…”

“We’re  going to have the ‘we should move sooner than we anticipated’ talk again, aren’t we.”

“We can’t exactly do things like this where we’re living.  This is the closest beach with the best surf and it’s  almost a five hour drive.   Can’t be making that all the time.  If we lived closer…”

“But can we afford it?  To move this soon?  We both agreed that we needed a little more money before we could.  And you haven’t gone back to work yet and you’re not one hundred percent. I don’t want you going back too soon because you think you NEED to.”

“We’re not broke.  There’s still money in the bank.  Not a lot, but it’s there.  And I’ve got some credit left. Again, not a lot, but…”

“I’ve still got a bit.  And I don’t mind using it.  Especially for something so important.”

“And if worse comes to worse and we’re a bit short, I can talk to Nik. She can give me a loan. A pay advance, even.  On my first job back.”

“I just don’t want you going so hard core right off the bat.  That’s what worries me.  That you’ll get in too deep, too fast…”

“I already promised you I wouldn’t, didn’t I?  I know my limits.   I’ll slowly get back into things. Slowly but surely.”

“And you really think we could pull this off?  Moving so soon? You really think we’d be okay?”

“I do. Or I wouldn’t bring it up.”

“I would be nice,”  she gives a wistful sigh.  “Living closer to things.  Restaurants and grocery stores and shops to browse in.  And I wouldn’t mind being close to the beach.  It would be nice to come here more often.”

“We’ll check things out tomorrow.  See what the market is like. If there’s a little house we can afford. If not, we might have to start with an apartment and go from there.”

“I don’t care where we live.  As long as we’re together.  Apartment. House. Doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “And you call me sappy?”

“You’re by far the bigger sap out of the two of us. And I can’t help it.  Feeling all ‘loved up’.   I mean, it’s your fault, you know. Making me feel that way. You’re always looking at me like I’m the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the world and…”

“Because you ARE.”

“...you make me feel seen and heard. And important.  Things I haven’t felt in forever.  If I’ve ever actually felt them at all.   You know how you say you’re not good about talking about these things? Well, I’m WAY too good at it.  Good enough at it for the both of us.  Which  means I always end up hurt. Because I say too much and I put too much into things and into people and I…”

“You’re not going to get hurt.  I’m not going to hurt you. I know I’m not perfect. By any stretch of the imagination. But I also know I’m not like THAT.  At least not anymore.  I meant what I said. In Dhaka. About you making me want to be a better man.”

Tears sparkle in her eyes.  “That is still the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I’m not your ex husband, Esme.   I’m never going to be him.  I’m not in this to hurt you. I’m in this to love you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“What?  What did I say?”

“You said that word. THE word.  You know the one. The BIG one.”

“You’re surprised that I did or…”

“I just…I don’t know…I guess deep down I knew you did.  You’re always finding ways of showing it, even if you never say it.   But then there’s a part of me that dwells. On the worst case scenario.  That tells me I’m reading too much into things and I’m just seeing what I want to see and that there’s no way that someone like you could love someone like me and...”

“Someone like you?  Isn’t it the other way?  Someone like you wanting to be someone like me?  I’m a bigger mess than you. By far.  A lot more broken.”

“You’re not broken, Tyler. You’re just bent.  Maybe a little more than I am.  But you’re definitely NOT broken.   If you were, you never would have gotten as far as you have.  After Dhaka.  You would have given up a long time ago.”

“You’ve given me a reason not to.  Someone to come home to.   Someone to have a life with. A NORMAL life. Or our version of normal, anyway.”

“So you really do?  You know…the word that you said…”

“Do I really love you? Yeah.  I do.   I’ve just been too chicken shit to admit it.  Like I said, I’m not good at this stuff.  Talking about this kind of thing. Guess  I was hoping I was making it obvious in other ways.  So I could give myself the time to get up the nerve to tell you.”

She reaches across the surfboard to brush wet hair out of his eyes. “What were you scared of?”

“I’m not actually sure.  Guess I was worried that it was all too good to be true. Having someone like you interested in a guy like me.   I’m not actually a prize, Esme.  Look at all the bullshit I come with.  The drinking, the meds…”

“Two things that you’ve beaten,” she reminds him.  “You went to rehab.  You’re sober.  You’re clean.”

“Once an alcoholic and a pill junkie, always an alcoholic and a pill junkie. There’s always going to be that ‘what if’.   What if something goes wrong?  What if I fall off the wagon? What if I can’t stay clean?”

“Everyone has slips.  I’m not expecting miracles. I know it’s going to take a lot of work. To stay on the straight and narrow. But that’s what I’m here for. To help you.  You’re not in this alone.”

“Guess I was worried it would just all be too much. I’D be too much.  Guess I was scared of saying the words because it meant I really was going ‘all in’.  There’s no turning back after you say those things.   And I’d feel like a complete fucking prick if I said them and months or years down the road turned out to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“I would never…EVER…think that.  Tyler, I knew what I was getting into. All the way back in Dhaka. I knew who you were. What you did for a living. In the same way I knew the things you were battling. You were nothing but honest with me about everything.  The drinking and the meds and your son.   I knew all of it and I still stayed. On the bridge.  And I came here.  Believe me, if I had thought you were too much, I would have been long gone,  a long time ago.”

“Maybe that’s part of it too.  Something I think about it. If I do fucked up and become too much…”

“I’m not going anywhere.  I’m here.  I’m ‘all in’ too.”

Smiling, he pushes his fingers through hers and brings their joined hands to his face; placing a soft, feathery peck to the inside of her wrist.

“I have a good feeling about this.  About us.  A very good feeling.”

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her lips.   “So do I.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction fan fiction #Esme Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler Rake x OFC

[giggly-squiggily]

Heyaaa would it be alright if I requested Lers William and Albert with Lee Louis, with the sentence starters 🧡Miss You: “When’s the last time you smiled?” and 💚Cutie: “Why are you trying to hide?” They just wanna see their baby brother smile🫶🏻

LOUIS! *flails in joy* I love him so much! Of course, anon! :D I've gotcha covered!

Miss You ("When's the last time you smiled?) + Cutie ("Why are you trying to hide?")

“Insolent, lazy, good for nothing beyond a freaking shot-” Louis growled to himself as he harshly wiped out a whisky glass. From their spots further into the room, William and Albert shared a look.

“Erm, Louis? I think that glass is clean now.” Albert offered, wincing at the glare his youngest brother shot his way.

“Yes. If you’re not careful you’ll-” William began, sighing when said glass slipped out of Louis’ hand, shattering against the table. “Nevermind.”

Louis stared at the mess in silent contempt, hands shaking with anger. Then he sighed, slumping some as he went to gather a broom. “Apologies. I should be more careful.”

“Sit. I’ll clean it.” Albert cut off his path, gently turning him towards his abandoned seat. “I’ll bring up some tea after. Just- take a moment, Lou.”

After he left, William turned to his miserable twin, leaning into his hand. “Louis, what’s wrong? You’re normally not so excited.”

“I’m fine. Just-yeah.” Louis reassured him, failing miserably. William’s eyes narrowed.

“Louis…why are you trying to hide?” He tried to catch his brother’s eye, but Louis turned away. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. Of course not.” Louis shook his head. “I’m not mad at anyone.”

“Besides Moran, it seems?” William prodded. To his surprise, Louis blushed. “Louis?”

“Don’t.” Louis cut him a glare, blushing more when William started to smile. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Oh my.” William reached out, poking his brother’s side. “Baby Louis is in love.”

“Who’s in love?” Albert asked, returning with the broom.

“I am no-hot! Will!” Louis swatted at his brother’s hands, failing to fight down the giggles bubbling over his lips. “Sthahhap it!”

“Louis, in love! I never thought I’d see the day!” William teased, grinning at Albert as his hands carried on prodding and pinching his brother. “And he’s smiling! Albert, when’s the last time we saw him smile this much?”

“Can’t recall. I’d have to think about it.” Abandoning the broom, Albert closed the distance, pushing Louis’ legs down so he could get his belly. “Louis- why’d you hide such a thing from me? Your eldest brother! I’m hurt!”

“Suhuhuuhuuht yoohoohohu’re mohohohohoouth! Iihihihihihihm nohohohot in lohohohohove with thahahhaht ihiihihihdiot!” Louis cried, unable to fight both sets of hands. Instead he tried minimizing the space they could reach, curling up on himself. “Gehehehheht ohohoohohff mehhehehe you twihihihiihihts!”

“Idiot? Ah, Moran.” Albert nodded, something like understanding in his eyes. “Should have seen that coming.”

“They’d be the cutest pair, no?” William cooed, jabbing Louis’ hip and making him squeak. “They’d be the talk of the town!”

“Much like how you and Sherlock are?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Albert-”

“GUHUHUUHUHUYS STHAHAHHAHAAP!” Louis squealed, feeling himself reach his limit. William and Albert retracted their hands, watching the youngest Moriarty curl up on himself. “Ahehehe…yohohou two suhuhuhuck!”

“Aww, we love you too.” William ruffled his bangs, earning a light kick to the hip. “So, when are you gonna confess?”

That got him another kick, this one much harder.

~Send me a pairing and a candy heart phrase~

#Candy Heart Valentine Event #chve2k23 #tickle #tickle dabble #MTP #william james moriarty #louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty #mentions of LouRan #is that their ship name? #Louis/Moran? #I don't know why they just work in my head #whoops karkjearjkakjer

[hikari-ni-naritai]

sex apologists in my fucking notes. i am swatting you with a broom. gowon, git! smack smack smack

#this is a joke i agree with both of you wholeheartedly #but its a night of severe sex repulsion so even funny sex memes are pissing me off #sex should be lined up against the wall and shot #aceposting

[remedy-ships-it]

2 and 5 for the pre-relationship questions !! and 4, 7, and 9 for domestic life !!! - @tothemoon-ships

thank you for the ask luciiii :]

PRE-RELATIONSHIP:

2. What was their first impression of each other?

We technically first met when Penelope was in the hospital after being shot (s3, e9) because I'm a forensic sketch artist, but we were both too busy doing our jobs to really focus on each other. Like there would've perhaps been a brief "oh, they're pretty" and then back to the task at hand.

But we properly meet months later after my training to join the team and I feel like he doesn't like me that much because he does that awkward frog face and small wave in greeting and I'm convinced I make him uncomfortable when really he's feeling the same way. I feel like he's reluctant with new members sometimes, especially since people are really rude to him about his rambling. So we spend my first few days with the BAU fumbling around each other until I make a Doctor Who reference and he gets really excited because he likes Doctor Who too and it gets easier to talk to one another after that.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Both of us. Immensely. Mostly just because we didn't want to ruin our friendship and our insecurities made it hard to even consider the fact we might like each other back. But obviously it's impossible so Penelope would be subjected to our whining and would be sitting there in pure agony knowing we like each other but not being able to say it because we've both sworn her to secrecy. But she tries desperately to hint at it.

"You should tell him how you feel. I think you'd be surprised." "I really don't think he likes me that way, Pen." Her eye is twitching. She has snapped a pencil in half.

DOMESTIC LIFE:

4. Do they have any pets?

Assuming this is when we're still working for the bureau, I wanna say no. Just because we're both so busy with our job. I was discussing with a friend the idea of Spencer keeping sea monkeys in his apartment though because they're low maintenance which is soso cute. I think he'd do that and let me name them :) and maybe we could even adopt a dog when we retire.

edit: it has come to my knowledge that he keeps fish so I guess we have fish too, how cute is that? He's a fish dad :D

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

I haven't seen anything saying Spencer has a fear of bugs but I also haven't seen anything saying he doesn't so. Headcanon time baby.

We both do. But we also spend the entire time screaming in terror and swatting aimlessly with a broom and spraying way too much bug spray, it's great.

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Spencer, mostly. He likes to act like he's the more responsible one—which, he is, really—but once we're dating he is so clingy. He literally drags me back into bed and traps me there. And who am I to deny him his cuddles? As long as we don't have work, we can just sleep in a little bit longer. Of course, I attempt to do the same sometimes but it's a lot harder to convince him to come back once he's already up and going.

#that's a lot whOops #🧠r | pretty boy swag #☕remreid #self ship #selfship #selfship community #ask game💕 #luci stuff💕

[camp-counselor-life]

Me at 10 am: Oh, I thought of something to add to my Amazon order but I don't need to write it down, I'll remember.

Me, trying to be gentle with myself when I'd actually like to swat my 10 am self with a broom: I know that you are trying really hard to get back into the swing of things, but like, you gotta write this stuff down babe.

#trail.mixed.adulting

[kariachi]

Naga! Hex au

Okay I am focusing on reboot!Hex because, I actually give a shit about reboot!Hex

He can do the standard Naga thing of going full snake or partial snake or what have you, but he doesn't do it around humans anymore because damn near every time he has for the past like, 3 millennia a little old lady has swatted him with a broom. He'd swear it's the same old lady too.

This is just a general but for all his bitching about how bad an apprentice Kevin was, he was the exact same way as a child. (Hex: "This fucking brat, what sort've apprentice is that?!" Everyone Who Knew Him As A Child: *pulling receipts*)

He's not the oldest Naga running around, but he's up there. That whole war back during the Mesopotamian era? Yeah that did a number on population sizes, there's not near so many Naga from before that point as one would hope. Add that he is really fucking old and, yeah he's in that upper group. It would award him some major respect from younger Naga- fucker is over 10,000 he was around while the last Ice Age was fucking off, older than corn and cold sores- but

We who watched the reboot know of the Gates of Light situation he's in where he has to renew his powers every hundred years or he fucking dies. There's a reason for that. He may have messed with the Methuselah Tree a ways back, and he may have been cursed as a result. Misunderstanding, he swears- nobody believes him.

Building off Kelly Turnbull's 'Hex has a fear of success and subconsciously sets himself up for defeat' headcanon, seeing how Rani Nagi turned out- gaining so much power only to fail spectacularly and then proceed to damn near drag their entire species down the shitter because she became obsessed? Had more of an impact on him that he'd like to admit. That war was a bad time for everybody, but being a powerful magic user at the time he saw a good bit more than the average Naga whether he wanted to or not and while he has a firm belief that he can do better than pretty much everyone else it's left him with a bone-deep fear that if he did get into position to 'improve' things he would end up the same sad and half-gone failure he sees Rani Nagi as, something that is only reinforced after everything that eventually happens with her, Argost, and Zak.

Once Zak turns out to be Kur, Hex starts going out of his way to not start trouble around the Saturdays as much as he can. The fucker is old enough to have actually met Kur personally before everything went to shit (it used to be whole thing for certain Naga, especially the ones going into politics, religion, and magic, his mentor had one hell of a time getting him to behave for the meeting) and while he's down for fighting children the whole thing is just awkward for him.

[lowkeyed1]

also i stayed late today to help wrangle a cat... a resident had to go out to rehab and if they're out longer than 24 hours someone has to come get their cat. they have to agree to this when we let them move in a cat. well her family flat refused to do it. one of them came and fed it but for some reason that's not enough. and if someone won't come and get it we're supposed to have animal control pick it up! well my boss is a cat lover like i am so he was kinda putting it off, giving me time to make a million phone calls and try to find somebody. and i did. and she tried to come one night after we all left and couldn't make it happen. because the cat has been super scared, so she just hides under the heaviest furniture and hisses and swats and makes demon sounds. she's really a sweet cat! she's just not having it with this shit so i went in this morning, blocked off around the couch so she couldn't get under there, and then after work i went and gently shoved a broom toward the hissing swatting sounds under the bed until she got spooked and ran out... and then we juked for a few minutes while she tried to get around me and then she went in the closet so i was like gotcha bitch and sat in the closet with an angry growling cat for half an hour waiting for this lady to get here... and i held still and she still growled continually for that whole half hour and then i picked up a towel and tried to baffle her in it long enough to scruff her, while she flailed around. this is seriously the hardest cat i've ever tried to handle. it took me five or six tries just to get her scruffed without getting bit and as soon as i got her. she shit. right in this lady's box of holiday decorations. right on the flag and then the person arrived to pick her up so i got her crated. like, sorry she may have some poo on her -_- thank you for doing this

#what a fuckin day

[dreamcatcher-ranger]

Queued

This is a fictional story, I apologize because I didn't realize how the first paragraphs sounded without context. I am perfectly fine. Please reblog this version and enjoy!

Let me preface this by clarifying a thing. If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I'll queue this for tomorrow morning, and if nothing happens I'll take this down. If you're seeing this on your dash, it means I'm gone. If I can return... Idk, maybe I'll write a more detailed post with the answers to all of this, maybe y'all could just carry on like nothing happened. Maybe this post will not exist anymore and there is no need to tell you what I would do.

That being said, if I will have to say goodbye, the least I could do is doing it with style. 

My name is Norman. All of you will already know me by my url, or maybe the pfp. "Look, it's trans Charizard again. What will he have to say this time". Mostly shitpost, alright? I didn't log in expecting to become a great artist. Sometimes, however, I liked to cut out a little scrap from my life and show it to you.

I started when my new life started. When I finally managed to get away from the horrible claws of my family and I settled in this little apartment. It was a small place, tucked away between the trees, where birds were more loud than traffic. 

All things considered, it has been nice to get it without having to pluck out my eye to pay rent. It was crammed, yes, but at the time I didn't even have a bed. It was enough.

So, as my loyal followers may already know, life here was... peculiar. 

It wasn't anything outright weird, more like little unsettling details, details on which the eye glided until they got caught, and once the eye caught them it couldn't let them go.

Typing them on here, in hindsight, makes me feel dumb, like if I was some horror movie dipshit that wouldn't move out of a clearly haunted house, trapped in his certainty that "GhOsTs ArEn'T rEaL" despite the furniture floating past him.

In my defense, my furniture didn't float. At least, I never saw it doing so. 

There have been misplaced objects, though. A glass that got knocked over, a book I was sure I had put a bookmark in, my Waddles (yes, the Gravity Falls pig. Sue me) plushie popping up from the strangest places, like when I found it in the pantry, behind the pasta. 

It was the least tbh.

Misplaced objects... they could be attributed to my ADHD. I came to terms with the fact that my things never seemed to stay where I put them when I was, like, six. After a while it sort of became a bit, in our family. So it wasn't exactly news. Even if Waddles in the pantry was a bit too much even for me. But hey, everyone lost track of their stuff sometimes, if they weren’t paying attention.

And, as I said before, it was the least. I mean, you saw my posts. At first I joked a bit about these teleportations, along the lines of "haha, look, my plushie loves pasta sooo much!". But, like, everyone who owns a cat knows that teleport is not impossible. "Yeah yeah, things that change places when they shouldn't, we've all seen it". Issues started coming after a few weeks.

At first, it was the golden leaves. I already said that my house was in the middle of the woods, right?

Well, it was around last April when they started making their appearance. I challenge everybody, everybody, to see a threat in a shiny, little golden leaf placed on the window sill.

They were really cool, by the way. Not even a little bit scary. Annoying, for sure. But not scary.

They made me curse every ancient god that watched over this Earth, though. I wouldn't get surprised if Cthulhu came knocking at my door asking why I was calling for them. For it was enough to leave the door a tiny tiny bit ajar for a freaking MOUNTAIN of leaves to make their entrance.

They defied physics. How the hell a metric fuck you of leaves could have come inside through an opening of an inch (measured) in less than half a minute is beyond me. But at least, broom and patience, and I swatted them away.

Now, I admit that maybe it was my fault, because if a normal person gets ATTACKED by leaves their first reaction is to find the tree those leaves come from.

It never crossed my mind, I swear. Not even when they started exploding.

Okay, maybe exploding is a bit of an overstatement. It's not like they went KABOOM and set things on fire.

It was just that as soon as I grazed them, even by blowing on them, puf! They turned into a little cloud of golden dust. And that mother-effing dust stuck! It didn't go away! Soon all my belongings were golden-leaf-dust-coated. I had a glittering house.

And if your first reaction is "Norman, normal leaves don't act that way" well, whoever you are, you may be an amateur botanist, but I know jack shit about trees. I wasn't gonna bother my landlord for a couple of leaves. It was my very first place of my own, I wasn't gonna act like a whiny baby. I think it would have solved a lot of problems, though.

Because then, around the middle of this January, it was the stains' turn. The streaks, the markings.

They started appearing in little spots, like little droplets of something. I didn't thought much of them, it was an old house in the middle of the woods, of course there would have been dirt here and there.

I found the first concerning one on the couch. It was a big, rough brown stain vaguely resembling a heart. Not a "❤" sort of heart, an anatomically correct heart with atriums and all. It had even the veins on it. It was a bit disturbing, I admit it. Maybe, a flying chair would have been a less noticeable warning.

However, it probably was just a Rorschach-like effect. Y'know, the test with the stains. It was just a puddle, but I thought it looked a bit like a heart and therefore was an anatomically-correct-heart-shaped puddle.

It was not the only rough brown stain I found. They didn't really bothered me, because, unlike that goddamned dust, they went away on their own. I had to clean off only the most visible ones. They just. Appeared. On the windows, the ceiling, at the bottom of the walls and on the floor, in the kitchen, on the mirrors, on my blankets, my clothes, even on the back of my binder. I felt a bit sorry when those disappeared, because they resembled two little bat wings.

If you followed me at the time, I'm sure you remember those pictures. How could you not? Some of them went viral, my notifications never recovered. I think that the rose on my bedsheets got reblogged by a heritage posts blog, like the "is this dress blue and black or white and gold?" meme.

By this point you are probably thinking "But Norman, at this point you must have noticed that something was wrong. Dirt doesn't appear and disappear, and it doesn't come in elaborate shapes." And you're right. I noticed that it was not right. I may be a skeptic, but until a certain point. But I'm not a moron. Except I was. Because it was just dirt. Dirt that came in beautiful patterns and went away on its own and it didn't bother me. So I pretended that everything was fine, it was normal, nothing was going on.

I am really, really a moron.

Because what happened next made me realize it was not dirt.

It was blood.

I... don't think I've ever posted the handprints on here. The heart, the rose, those little spots that looked like a constellation were all meant to get a laugh out of who saw them. Somebody even accused me of creating them myself, which, dear rando, thank you. It wasn't me. I can’t draw shit.

Handprints smeared on my kitchen were NOT, I repeat, NOT my doing. Why the fuck should I do such a thing? They were creepy as fuck, and I immediately got a hold of soap and sponge. The point is, they reappeared every time. I cleaned the glass panel, and the next morning I found two, if not more, different handprints.

Once there was one that had nothing better to do than flipping me off.

Very funny.

At a certain point I just gave up. The patterns always went away by themselves, I could suck it up and endure a "fuck you" by a stain on my window for a while.

Wrong. The second evening after my last attempt, at the start of September, they chose to up their game. Under my eyes, the substance they were made of slowly became dark crimson and wet and started dripping. I yelled and fell backwards, crashing over the table.

Quivering, I slowly crawled away from the window. I felt something wet on my fingertips, I must have hit my elbow in the fall. Instead of any kind of pain, it was disgust that clawed at my stomach. As I watched the trickle of blood on my forearm the memory of all the shapes came to mind and realization hit.

I've slept between those blankets, dammit!

I reached the sink and said goodbye to my breakfast. When my head stopped spinning, I grabbed soap and a rag and, in record time, cleaned off that nightmare from my glass.

Too bad that the nightmare just started.

This was the only place I had. I couldn't pack and just go. I should've done it, but I couldn't.

However, it was now time to bother my landlord. The sweet old lady that I talked to over the phone assured me she would come as soon as she could.

As soon as she could was a week later. That week was a nightmare. I tried to stay away from the house as long as I could. But I always had to sleep somewhere. And those nights... I don't want to talk about those nights. I was curled under my blankets, trembling and sobbing. Apparently, the 'dirt' stains now always came in liquid form. And I always woke up covered in golden glitter and red trickles, despite having a sheet all over me. Use your imagination.

When I finally greeted the sweet granny, I was in tatters. And glittering. As I said, the dried blood went away, the dust stuck.

For her, a single glance around was enough. She pursed her lips, and nodded solemnly. And told me that to solve this I had to leave something sweet as an offering, in the woods. Something like a cake, bread, cream, sugar, milk and honey.

Milk. And honey.

Are you FUCKING kidding me.

Apparently not, she was not kidding me. She looked extremely serious. And so I though, why not give it a shot? And after she left me I took a bowl, I filled it with milk and honey, and walked until I could find a good spot between the trees, where I left it.

The next morning I woke up unscathered. And when I went checking, the bowl was just shiny clean. Not even a drop.

So, a bowl of milk and honey in exchange for a night of peaceful sleep. And a clean house.

Poor fool that I was, I thought it could work.

This was three weeks ago. And, of those three weeks, just the first few days the milk worked. Because then, They wanted more.

Milk and honey, but with a spoonful of sugar. Slices of white, soft bread with butter and sugar. Mugs of coffee creamer and honey. Little cakes, like tarties and plumcakes. Sweets. Peppermints and toffee. And so forth.

Always more, always more.

And if the quota wasn't met, the blood returned. And the dust. And the misplaced stuff. And, between the trunks and branches, I could see lights dancing and hear soft laughter and singing, asking for more. More, more. More.

They just don't want to leave me alone. I can’t keep on living like this. I made my decision. I typed on here all of this story. So, now you all know. I have a kitchen knife shining next to me. Must sound more gutsy that it really is, but tonight I'm gonna march in the woods and make Them leave me alone.

It sounds so brave. But I'm not. I'm crying and shaking. My fingers can't stay still. There are tears on my laptop. I'm gonna die.

But anger is stronger. I-I will try to make Them stop. To make Them let me live my life. If it won't work, at the top of this story I left all you need to know. If things work out... I dunno. An update, maybe? A whole different story, maybe.

But now the story queued is this.

So, thank you, to all of my mutuals, for the time spent on this blue hell. I love all of you.

Goodbye

Norman

#if you saw the unfinished thing i posted by accident and left it there cuz i didn't notice haha no you didn't #i've spent a lot of time writing this; so i truly hope it will be good #and i hope there won't be any typos; i triple checked #there will be; i just know #but this story... i am kinda proud of how it turned out; ya know? #and; just as an experiment; i want to try to get out of my shell and tag it properly. just to see what happens. #my writing #please tell me what you think; because i had this in the making for a very long time #if you read until here; thank you; so much #bye :) #my little scrapbook collection #fey

[chiisana-lion]

🖊

:] hello i am taking this opportunity to talk abt yuko the other one in the main magigirls duo!!

they're kind of a loner albeit unintentionally. just doesnt go out of their way to interact w people outside of necessity kinda? ended up bonding w rae over a fantasy series they both liked initially before the whole getting chosen to fight as magical warriors ordeal. the white cat thing w them this time is kas, asa's counterpart and 10x more annoying. wyd when you come home and find some creature stuck on your ceiling while giving the whole magical speech yuko tried to swat it out w a broom at first kjdgskjhdsg

their parents died in an accident when they were younger so they're living w their uncle! wields ice powers using a moon charm bracelet 👍 idk why i ended up using sun moon dynamics again but hey why not! they try to save rae from his imminent demise in every timeline but fail each time also ^^

their design remained somewhat the same? their color used to be a light blue but i ended up changing it to purple bc i like orange-purple together

#hi melty!! #theres four of them technically but it started off w these two so theyll be the only ones i talk abt rn djkhsgkhjgds #yukos also a bit in love w rae but thats a whole other thing #duck ocs #ask game #himenikis

[visceralvoid]

i am swatting away the bots following me with a broom like they are little creatures that have snuck into my home and eaten my trash. back! back i say, you barely-clothed females!

#bots #p*rn bots #BEGONE #I am like an angry medieval-era peasant housewife #but with more eyes