#I was not intending to leave those clothes in that pile for more than a day or two but here we are a month later

[ghostsinthecellar]

the fun thing about being a slob and also having cats that suck is the day-before-laundry-day Sniffing Of The Clothing Pile to see what's been peed on and needs to go in the wash

#charlie babbles #I was not intending to leave those clothes in that pile for more than a day or two but here we are a month later #I don't know what it was about october my brain shut the fuck off week one and then I got sick week two and it was hell from there #I haven't showered I haven't washed dishes I had clean laundry piled in three different rooms #yeesh #let's see if I can catch up before december

[thoughtfulbearpanda]

February 2024 Pick a Card

Piles 1 -> 2 -> 3

Hi there! This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE I

Okana Oracle: Reconcile, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Whip & Heart, Tarot: 6 of cups rx, 2 of wands, 4 of cups, the Tower rx, 9 of cup rx

What I see you going through in the month of February pile 1 is you walking away from something. With the 6oc rx coupled with the 2ow there may be a decision you will have to make, and this decision could lead to you letting go of past connections, I’m getting ‘leaving the nest' for some of you. Some of you could be moving away, beginning your own chapter of life solo; some of you could be traveling overseas in the month of February, or just simply moving out of house and getting your own place. 

There is also this aspect of fear, not really knowing what you’re getting into, there is the sense of naivety. This could be towards a new job, maybe a change of career path or change in career studies for those who are still in school. This could be a small few of you but some of you may be weighing the decision to drop out of college or school. College/school/work may no longer be as exciting for as when you first started and you may be thinking about just calling it quits, but are delaying this decision because you may not have a backup plan and/or you don’t want to disappoint your loved ones. It’s like ‘I no longer enjoy this.’; ‘What if there is more for me out there?’; ‘What will my loved ones think?’; ‘What if I don’t have a back up plan and this ends being a mistake?’

Life is not full of easy choices. Every day we are proven that life is short. For those who resonate with the school/college message, I am not here to tell you what you should do BUT do what you believe is best for you. College is not for every one, but if dropping out is an option you are considering than have a back up plan ready for when you do. Figure out what you are going to do afterwards. Don’t just dive into this particular decision blindly.

I see you going through transformation pile 1. Some of you may have felt like you lost your spark, your joy, your purpose in life. I see you gaining that back in the month of February. You are going to start making decisions that make YOU happy, that bring YOU joy. February is the month where you consider how to get closer to your ultimate goal in life, and how you can rediscover your sense of purpose.

Shadow Message: Reconcile - “love yourself for only then can you love others” -> What is something that you find yourself struggling to let go of? What is this thing that is depleting you? Is it a job? Is is friends? Family? A partner, past or present? Do you find yourself pouring so much of yourself into this thing and/or person (people) that you barely have enough to pour into yourself? To whomever this resonates, it is time to take a look at your current attachments and come to terms with whether it is healthy or if you are simply a victim of codependency. Is this thing or person feeding off of you? If so, then it is time to cut the cord on that. Do some 'spring cleaning'. For some, it may not even a person or a job. Sometimes it just simply clearing out the old within your space, getting rid of old clothes, trinkets, furniture etc., to make room for the new. Find what is weighing you down emotionally, spiritually, mentally; find what is depleting your happiness and take the necessary steps to rid yourself of it.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Whip & Heart - 'Sacrifice' & 'Love' -> Whip: "Everyone must pay. Nothing worthwhile or lasting was ever achieved by simply wanting it to be ours...sacrifice and work move things further than desire alone." Love: "There is an infinite supply of love for us to draw on, whether from platonic or romantic relationships, living or dead...but if we often lose ourselves in the need to nurture others, hiding in them to avoid being in ourselves...we must learn to love ourselves so deeply we find joy in solitude instead of heartbreak."

Final Messages:

"What is past is gone, what is hoped for is absent, for you is the hour for which you are."

"Wisdom outweighs strength."

"A snake that you can see does not bite."

"You cannot blindfold a man and expect him to ferry you across the river."

"Whoever stands in the need of honey should not be afraid of bees."

~additional messages: unexpected good fortune, generosity, possible travel, changes, postponement, disappointment and opposition

**PROVERBS 15:13 and DANIEL 10:6 for some of you**

PILE II

Okana Oracle: Grit & Confide, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Rider rx & Clouds, Tarot; Page of swords, Queen of wands, 9 of cups, 7 of swords rx, & ace of wands Rx

The month of February is going to be very abundant for you pile 2. I see you socializing and being so vibrant and free, being the talk of the town. I'm getting 'social butterfly'. This month is going to be raining down blessings for you with the 9oc here. I see you filled with so much gratitude and happiness. Wishes will be coming true for you in the month of February; whatever you have been wishing for, praying for, hoping for, it will come true. I see you getting that dream job, dream car, dream house. Whatever you've been wishing for, you will be receiving it this month. Some of you could be starting a new project or job, and I see you being so excited about it. You have this eager, 'go getter' energy.

With the QoW here, a feminine figure could be significant for some you. This person could be mature, or just has a lot experience and wisdom under their belt. Who knows how to work a room, use their charm and charisma to achieve their goals. I see this person being some sort of a mentor figure to you this month. Someone that will help you harness this vibrant, off the walls energy that you may have. I see you shadowing this person, soaking up all the knowledge that she has to offer. *Be sure to take head from whatever advice this person gives you*

For some of you, there could be some snakes in your mists. In the month of February you may find yourself being on the receiving end of a lot of 'evil eye'. I see you being highly favored in the month of February, and with that comes with a lot of jealousy and attempts at sabotage. You may end up encountering a lot two-faced people; those who smile in your face but are quick to pray and revel in your downfall. Some of you may be up for promotion or have been promoted - BE CAREFUL. Be wary of those who are quick to befriend and try to get into your circle. It's like that saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' - that is the mentality of these haters toward you. Just know that secrets don't stay buried and will eventually come to light. Karma never misses, so whatever these potential sabotagers have planned will back fire. You are protected by the Divine and your Ancestors.

The month of February, some of you may find yourself consumed with the drive to get something started. There may be an idea/project that you are trying to get off the ground to this point where you are obsessing over it. You are trying and trying and becoming more and more frustrated because it's not going the way you planned. With the ace of wands rx, you are being called to take a break. Step away from the idea/project and allow yourself to breathe. When we are so hyper focused on something, it can become easy for use to become consumed by to the point where we forget why we started said project/idea; and in some instances lose our passion fro what we do. That's why in moments of frustration we need to take a step back, put on pause on things. If this resonates, Spirit is prompting you to take a look out where you are, how far you've come, and remember why you started. Stop and smell the roses. Allow yourself to look at it from a different perspective.

For others, there could be a whole idea that you abandoned completely because it never got off the ground, someone may have told you that idea is not good, or maybe you felt like it could never be. Maybe it's time to revisit that project/idea from a new, fresher lens.

Shadow Message: Grit & Confide - Grit: "when a needle falls into a well many people will look into the well, but very few will go down after it" -> Take a look at yourself this month and ask yourself 'Am I biting off more than I can chew?', 'Am I involving myself in projects or places that do not pertain to me?', 'If I am doing all these things: why?' If you find yourself spiraling or just taking on so much, unnecessarily, maybe it's time to take a step back from it. It's good to have drive to have that grit/conviction but not to the point where it is at your own detriment. It can be easy, being caught up in 'the grind' and all but we also have to remember to take breaks; Confide: "all things are good to eat, but not all things are good to say" -> February is looking to be an abundant month for you, but remember to not get caught up in the high. You may be on the receiving end gossip, but try not to perpetuate the same behaviors as your haters. If find yourself engaging gossip with others ask yourself 'Is it true?', 'Is it kind?', 'Are these people doing the same thing to me behind my back?', 'Will they go back an twist my words to said person?', 'Why are they trying to get me involved gossip to begin with?'. Remember: Karma. Never. Misses.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Rider rx & Clouds - 'Intention' & 'Denial' -> Rider rx: "Don't be hasty, Baby. Before taking action, we must be clear on our intention. And be certain our actions align with that intention." Clouds: "Clouds can be information that is hidden and outcomes that are uncertain...we must know truth before we know miracles, and what is before we know what can be."

Final Messages:

"Not to know is bad, to not wish to know is worse."

"Fire surrounded by elders cannot burn you."

"Luck at times will visit a fool, but it never sits down with him."

"Truth cannot be hidden forever beneath evil."

"He who wakes up early in the morning receives bundle of blessings."

~additional messages: good luck coming to you, harmony, property, achievement, love, dark-haired woman who is strong, helpful and attractive, warning of loss of friendship

**EXODUS 24:15 for some of you**

PILE III

Okana Oracle: Harmony & Reconcile, Grandma Baby Lenormand: Fish & Mice, Tarot: 10 of swords, 2 of cups, Knight of wands, 5 of pentacles rx, ace of swords rx

Are some of you in a relationship, pile 3? Or is there someone on your mind? Cause with the 2oc here there is a potential for love to blossom for you in the month of February. You could have met this person or will meet this person and you guys hit right off the bat. The knight of wands indicates that you and this person will 'click' so fast, and so unexpectedly. This person could be a fire sign; they could be someone who is vibrant, and has a lot of energy and passion to them. They could be 'go-getter', someone who acts before they thinks, who likes to dive into things head-first. And it doesn't necessarily have to be a romance either. This could be someone who you will end up having a genuine bond and connection with. This person could be a bit of foil to you if you are more on the shy side, or this is someone who will match your energy.

Some of you may have dealt with betrayal in the past, like been backstabbed by a person/people that you've trusted. This has possibly resulted you in having trust issues, you questioning the motives of those who try to get close to you. This connection coming in is going to help you heal those wounds. This connection coming is someone you can trust and they are going to prove that to you. They will be patient with you. Maybe this person coming in has probably dealt with same thing, and this connection will be healing for both of you.

For others of you, you may have fallen on hard times in the past pile 3. Some of you may have dealt with a lot of spiritual warfare. What I mean by that, is that you may have been feeling empty spiritually. Doubting your religion, your ancestors, spirit guides, or even the concept of spirituality itself. *With everything that has been going on in the world, I can understand* Maybe you've hanging on to this concept of religion or spirituality in hopes it will make your life better because that's what you've been told, only to be met with disappointment after disappointment. Maybe recently you've had one too many disappointments and began to question yourself: 'Am I doing something wrong?' 'Why isn't working?' 'Am I just playing myself for a fool?'

I see you starting to come back to that pile 3, because you can't ignore the call forever. I see rekindling your relationship with the Divine, with God, your Ancestors, whomever you believe in. That tarot deck that you've put away? You're dusting off and getting back into the swing of things. That altar that you abandoned, walked away from? I see resetting it and familiarizing yourself with your guides, with your gifts. And honestly, sometimes walking away is needed pile 3. It's okay to take a break for a while, reconnect with yourself, ground yourself, and find your way back to it eventually.

Shadow Message: Harmony & Reconcile - Harmony: "where there is life, there is always hope" -> You could be dealing with bouts of loss or despair in February. Have you lost all hope of being happy? Content? Have you lost hope in ever being able to trust again? Have you become a glass half-empty, glass half-full kind of person? It's time to confront those doubts, pile 3. Time to challenge those negative beliefs you've become accustomed to. Make the effort of bringing harmony and positivity back into your life; Reconcile: "love yourself for only then can you love others" -> It is time to heal pile 3. Heal those wounds. Hanging onto that hurt is giving the person who hurt you more power over you. What is something you have trouble letting go of? Is it the betrayal? The backstabbing? Is it becomes you should have saw it coming? Are you ready to let it go? Are you ready to move on?

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Fish & Mice - 'Gifts' & 'Fear' -> Fish: "If we give birth to what is within us, what is within us will save us. If we do not give birth to what is within us, what is within us will destroy us." Mice: "If we feed fear, we will be eaten alive."

Final Messages:

"You can kill the identity of a man on earth, but you cannot kill his spirit."

"Respect begets respect."

"Even as the archer loves the arrow that flies, so too he loves the bow that remains in his hands."

"The path to wisdom is a lifelong commitment."

"It is the one who lives in the house that knows where the roof leaks."

~additional messages: friendship, success, business meetings, reliable friend, conflict, love, affair, worry and fear

**JONAH 1:17 for some of you**

That's all I have for you! Thanks for reading! Stay safe, stay blessed!

Asé

#tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #black tarot reader

[saltsicklover]

Part Ten

I realized while writing this part that the description used, while vague, is likely to not included all body types when it comes to the Reader. Sunny is described as fitting into a shirt that either Phoenix or Bob could fit into, and I want to preface this with the fact that I wrote this as a midsize person, who does fit into a Men's Size Large shirt.

I recognize that is not the case for everyone, and I do not intend for my writing to offend or upset anyone. I do not subscribe to the idea that a woman, like in Sunny's case, or any other person needs to be able to fit into their partner's clothing. I myself do not fit into my husbands clothing and that is more than okay! In fact, it is moreally neutral!

If any of this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this chapter.

This blog is a safe space for everybody, and everyBODY.

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Tobacco, Smoking, Mention of Alien Abduction, Pet Name Usage (Honey), Bob being too sweet for his own good.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Sunny woke to a blanket of darkness, the night sky still starving off the morning sun, the smell of cherry tobacco light in the air. Her body feels stiff, likely from the awkward position she awoke in. With a stretch of her arms, her elbows both pop, the sound unpleasant to her ears. She throws her legs over the side of the bed, untangling the sheets from her body as she goes. A gentle sigh leaves her lips as she stretches the lower half of her body, rolling her ankles and flexing her toes. 

After a moment, she takes in the sight of her dress. The skirt is wound around her upper thighs, no longer covering most of her lower half. The sticky nametag from the night before is still stuck to the fabric. She looks around the room, eyes searching. Then she spots the small, crudely folded pile of clothes at the end of the bed. 

Sunny pulls her dress over her head, the fabric causing static to dance up her body. She throws the now wrinkled dress over the bottom of the bed before slipping the shirt over her naked top half. Who needs a bra, right? The shirt fits around her body, pulling just a little tighter around her butt. The dark navy shirt sports the words US NAVY across the chest, the navel emblem underneath. It's well warn soft, like it has been through the wash a little too much. Sunny then slips on the shorts. They are short, the t-shirt falls past them, down to the tops of her thighs. 

Sunny then pulls all of the pins from her hair. The relief is almost immediate as each pin finds itself in a pile on the long dresser across from the bed. Sunny runs her fingers over her scalp, letting her hair puff out of the twisted style she had it back in for almost twenty four hours. 

Sunny's eyes ache and the bloodshot color surprises her, even in the low light of the room. It shouldn't. Every woman has spent a night crying and paid for it in the morning, but the deep circles under her eyes and the reddened whites of her them take her aback. That's when the thirst hits her- the dehydration from crying having wrung her body of the extra moisture. 

She eyes the bathroom door with a thin lipped expression. Sunny could go in there, but there's always a chance that Bob didn't close his door. She couldn't chance waking him by flickering on the light, and she didn't trust herself to find her way around the new environment in the dark. Her luck, she'd knock something over and wake Bob. She couldn't have that, so her gaze flickers to the door to the hallway. 

No one is going to be up this early, she justifies, before slipping out the door. She closes it behind her as softly as she can, the click of the lock catching her attention. Sunny's eyes go wide at the sound. She sputters for a moment before jiggling the knob back and fourth, attempting to open the now locked door. 

"Fuck," she whispers hastily to herself, her forehead coming to rest against the cold wood of the door. She jiggles the handle one more time before deciding to venture to Natasha's room. When she gets there, she knocks, her knuckles as quiet as possible on the hardwood. 

No answer. 

She tries again, a little more forceful this time. Her knuckles hurt. 

Nothing. 

"Fuck," She mutters again. Sunny chances a look towards Bob's door before deciding better of it. She is not going to wake him just to get back into her room, and with Natasha out cold, she has no other choice up to go back to her previous task, getting water. 

Sunny patters down the hallway, keeping her footsteps as quiet as she can outside Bob's door before she disappears down the stairs. Her hands follow the textured walls, searching for a light switch when she meets the bottom. The kitchen is just to her left, the light switch not too far away. 

She flicks in on before going through the hanging cupboards. It feels strange, going through someone else's house like this. It's not like she is snooping, but somehow it still feels like an invasion of privacy. 

Spices, no.

Tupperware, no.

Plates and bowls, no. 

Cups and mugs, ah ha!

Sunny grabs a mug from the shelf. It reads, "Proud Pilot, Prouder to not be Air Force". She can't help but chuckle a bit dryly at the saying. Definitely something Natasha would say, she thinks, as she fills the mug with water from the tap. 

The water goes down like it's the first drink she has had in months. She grimaces a bit at the taste, having become accustomed to the water in Colorado, rich with natural minerals. Water here tastes different, maybe too smooth. She drinks another two glasses anyway before filling it up for a fourth time. Sunny wraps her hand securely around the mug before flicking off the light and returning to her bedroom predicament. 

She knocks on Natasha door one last time on her way by, her ear pressed to the cold wood. She can hear Natasha snoring softly on the other side. The sound brings a small smile to her lips as she tucks that little factoid in her back pocket to use for later. 

Then, Sunny walks back to her door. She tries the handle one last time and it doesn't budge. There is nothing she can do now, unless she wants to risk waking Bob- she doesn't. So, she slides her back down the door, leaning up against it. She pulls her knees to her chest, head leaning against the door jamb. She rests the mug next to her, letting her finger dance over the rim, taking in the light smell of cherry tobacco from down the hall as she fights off the ever growing urge to sleep again. 

---

Bob couldn't sleep. No matter how often he turned over, adjusting his body or the sheets around him. He flipped the pillow so often that neither side was cold, he stared at the ceiling until he thought a hole might open up and suck in through. He prayed for sleep, and when that didn't come, he asked the universe to grace him with an alien abduction. Anything to get him out of his mind and closer towards rest- and if that meant that he needed to be abducted and put to sleep so that another life form could prob him for scientific gain, so be it. 

When the aliens didn't come either, Bob finally decides that he needs to get out of his bedroom. He pulls on his clothes from the night before, finding them each in their own degrees of inside out and wrinkled. As he pulls his belt through the loops of his jeans he can't help but let his gaze drift towards the bathroom door. He knows that Sunny is not more than fifteen feet away, just on the other side of the bathroom- which is another reason he needs to get out of his room. Hell, he needs out of the house. So, he finishes dressing, pulling his shirt over his head and replacing his glasses as he heads for the door. 

The sight of his cowboy hat on the hook next to the door stops him in his tracks. He looks at it for only a second before swiping it off the hook and continuing his trek out of the house. He knows his home like the back of his hand, so he navigates it completely in the dark, disappearing out of the front door with almost no sound. 

Darkness still has ahold of the sky, it's blueness deep and cavernous. Bob swears he can almost make out Cygnus, the swan, but the light pollution from the city makes it difficult to be sure. As Bob climbs into his truck he yearns for the clear sky's of Florence; the ability to see the constellations without difficulty. 

He remembers being able to see Sunny's face, with the light of the moon and stars on their prom night. He remembers how the low light shown in her eyes and off the embellishments of her dress. He remembers how he hair looked with the light of the moon shown upon it. 

The thoughts come faster than Bob can stop them, and he finds himself itching for just a bit more of her, a bit more of that night, a bit more of his life before he blew it all up. His hand drifts to his back pocket in search of his cigarette case, but he comes up empty. 

Bob huffs in exhaustion, turning on his heel to walk the block back to his house. He's thankful he didn't make it further before realizing his mistake. He retraces his steps slowly, slipping in the front door silently. He is met with expectant darkness as he stalks up the stairs, his boots feeling heavier with each step, weighing him down. 

What Bob didn't expect, however, is Sunny's sleeping form propped up against the door of the guest room, her head leaned against the door jamb. Bob blinks a few times from his spot just atop the landing as he tries to make the scene before him make sense. He can't make out much more detail than the way her body is slumped against the door and the way her forehead is pressed against the jamb, but he looks at her anyway, truly taking her in for the first time since her arrival. 

He dares a few steps closer after she doesn't stir at his presence. His boots sound impossibly loud against the hardwood floor. Suddenly, Natasha's idea of a carpet runner for the hallway didn't seem so silly. 

From closer up, he can take in just a bit more detail. The way her hair has fallen into her face and the clothes she has changed into. His heart beats just a bit faster as he takes in her new clothes, from the barely there shorts that stretch around the fullness of her thighs to the t-shirt that hands loosely around her shoulders. The partially obscured graphic causes him to lean forward just a bit, squinting his eyes. 

The large, golden crest the peaks out from beneath her arm makes his heart hammer against his chest, his ribs almost cracking under it's pressure. Bob knows that shirt, and he knows that if Sunny were to lean forward the words "NAS LEMOORE" would be printed across the back, right across her shoulder blades. 

Bob bites at his lips, sucking them back into his mouth, between his teeth. Natasha has never been stationed in Lemoore, not that Sunny would have known that to, but the fact that she now lays in it, asleep on the floor makes Bob blush red. His feelings are all tangled up in his chest, knotted together and pulled tight. 

But the longer he looks at her, the more uncomfortable she looks with her back pressed against the door. So, Bob takes a leap of faith, stepping closer and closer to her before he kneels down beside her. He carefully takes her wrist in between his thumb and fingers, lifting it slightly to move it from atop the mug. He takes the mug in his other hand, moving it down a few feet and out of the way. He sets her hand carefully over her stomach, sandwiched between it and her knees, right along with the other. 

Carefully, he brushes a thumb across her cheek, his touch barely there. Her skin is just as soft as he remembers and he can't help his but let his thumb run over her cheek once more. 

"Sunny," He whispers, his barely making it to his own ears. 

She doesn't stir. He shakes his head to himself, a feeling of longing deep from within now bubbling to the surface, coming to sit just under his skin. He lets out a deep sigh before trying again. 

"Duchenne, honey?" The name feels foreign to his tongue but the term of endearment feels right at home. 

Sunny still doesn't stir. So, Bob debates his next move. He could wake her, and risk her yelling at him again, or worse, punching him. Not that he wouldn't deserve it. No, he couldn't chance a bad reaction. 

Plan B, he thinks, he could hook his arm underneath her bent legs and slip his other between the gap of her body and the door. He could pick her up and take her back to bed himself- but that seems like a bad idea. What if he woke her? How would she react? 

Bob's eyes drift to Phoenix's door and he decides that's the best option. So, he stands, moving towards her room. When he knocks, he can hear her snoring from his side. He knocks, but there is zero surprise when she doesn't wake. Bob tires the nob but it doesn't move, not that Bob is surprised by that fact either. She has always slept locked in her room and nothing short of an alarm at full blast, right next to her ear would be enough to wake her. 

So, Bob turns back to Sunny, left with only one real choice. So, he squats down next to her, lacing his arms around her body and lifting her from the ground. She makes a small noise at the change but doesn't wake. Her head rests against Bob's shoulder, her cheek pressed against the softness of his shirt. 

He bends a bit to open the door, but the knob doesn't budge. Bob lets out a sigh, the pieces falling into place. She has been locked out, of course, that damn lock has been temperamental since he moved in, but never bothered to fix it. 

So, he walks her down the hall and into his bedroom. It's strange to hold a woman in a room he has never invited one back to- it's even more strange that the woman in his arms in the one he has held a torch for, for so many years. 

Bob tries not to let himself think about that fact for too long before he is carefully opening the bathroom door and carrying her through. When he finally gets her back into her room, he places her carefully down on the sheets. They have gone cold in the time she has been gone, so Bob pulls the sheet and comforter up over her body. He stares down at her a second, brushing her hair from her face. Her lips curl up at the corners and the sight warms Bob's heart. 

Quickly, he disappears back out into the hall to retrieve the mug of water from the ground. He places it on the bedside table, right in reach for her. Then, he grabs a hanger from the closet. Bob takes her dress from the bottom of the bed and carefully threads the straps over the arms of the hanger. He hangs it up on the nob of the closet door, right in her line of sight. 

Then, Bob chances one more look at her sleeping form. He lets his eyes trace down the slope of her nose and over the plump ridges of her upper lip. He watches for a moment as she breathes just a bit deeper as she snuggles further down into the blankets. 

"Goodnight, honey," Bob whispers, before disappearing back into his room, his heart still stuttering in his chest. 

As he closes the door, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. There stands a man he hasn't seen in years, looking more like a kid staring back at him. He is all consumed by the sight of himself, from the hat on his head to the clothes he wears. Bob slips his glasses off, leaning closer to the mirror. A deep, doe eyed expression stares back at him, his brown eyes swimming with the sight of himself. He looks older now, than the last time he recognized himself like this, but he recognizes himself none the less.

He leans against the countertop, hands planted firmly on the edge of the sink. It might be his proximity to Sunny, or the clothes that fit around his muscular frame, but his lips quirk up into a hint of a smile. His eyes dart around his own face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, and for the first time in God only knows how long, he likes the man staring back at him. 

And somehow, he feels just a little bit closer to the man he yearns to be; a good man. 

~ Once an Asshole TAG LIST ~

@harperdoodle

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd angst #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #once an asshole

[girl-next-door-writes]

So Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas Now

Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: An accident (or an act of Munson) leads to Steve needing to raise his temperature. Lucky for him, you are there to help.

Word Count: 1100 words

Prompt: #3: Warming up in a bathtub big enough for two

A/N: This one officially marks the end of my Steven’s Greetings! If you have enjoyed what you’ve read, then please feel free to reblog and go check out my Masterlist. If you didn’t, that’s cool, you move on with your life and find yourself some fics that you love.

It was an accident. Everybody swore blind that it had been an accident. It wasn’t like anyone would have ever done that on purpose, not with the temperatures as they were, not even though that had all found it hilariously funny. The fact that Dustin’s legs had given out on him, leaving him in a crumpled heap of hysterics on one of the pool chairs definitely didn’t mean that Eddie had orchestrated the situation. Well, not that Steve could prove anyway.

The cigarette that he’d been smoking was now limp between his lips, the beer he’d been holding sinking to the bottom of the pool as Steve very slowly ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. The unimpressed expression on his face only served to provide a second wave of laughter from those gathered. He looked like a drowned rat standing there in the pool, his usually voluminous hair flat and stringy.

“Come on, it’s not that funny.” You said, trying hard to hold back your own amusement. The two of you had been deep in conversation, Steve trying to impress you about something, when Eddie had ‘bumped’ into him, sending the poor boy sprawling into the freezing water.

Steve made his way to the poolside, his clothes dragging him with each step. He reached up to take the hand you had offered and then the world seemed to go into slow motion.

Now, it could have been another Munson move, or maybe Steve just gripped stronger than he had intended, either way there was a yelp of panic, followed by Nancy and Robin scrambling, and failing, to grab hold of you as you lost your balance and landed rather ungracefully on your boyfriend, taking him back beneath the waters surface.

When the two of you emerged, Steve noted that the laughter had died down and people looked genuinely concerned. Yeah, him being pushed into a pool was hilarious, but it turned out they didn’t think the same about you.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked as you spluttered a little, wiping the water from your eyes and leaving streaks of mascara, making you look more like a damp panda.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just cold.” You grinned as you shivered.

“Come on, let’s get you into something dry and warm.” Steve insisted, guiding you to the steps while shielding your body from everyone else. The last thing he wanted was everyone seeing the material clinging to you and making comments he himself would be very happy to make if it wasn’t for the risk of hypothermia right now.

As the two of you squelched inside, he grabbed a blanket off the back of a chair in the kitchen and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“We should take off as much as we can here, that way we don’t end up with a trail of water all the way to my room.” He frowned, knowing the grilling he would get if he ‘ruined the carpets’. Kicking off his shoes, he tugged his sweater over his head and dropped it into a pile on the tiled floor, his socks and jeans quickly joining them leaving him in just his underwear. That was something he didn’t think twice about until he saw you staring at him slack jawed, and then he became incredibly self-conscious. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked like a lost child as his nerves were written across his face for all to see.

“Sorry.” You shook your head, suddenly realising you had been staring. “You just- it- that- I mean- “

“You wanna finish a sentence? A guy could get all kinds of worried over here.” He half joked, his cheeks beginning to flush despite how his body was shivering.

“You’re really freaking hot. I mean, I knew you were, well, are, but knowing it and seeing it, that’s two different things. Sorry. I was just appreciating the view.” You gave him a lopsided smile and he ducked his head, trying to hide his own smile.

“Yeah, well, stripping in my kitchen was not the way I thought this would go, but I’ll take it.” He shot you a wink and then offered to hold the blanket for you while you removed layers.

Ever the gentleman, Steve closed his eyes as you stripped down to your underwear, even though he really wanted to peek. It was only when he heard Eddie wander into the kitchen behind him that he quickly wrapped the blanket around you, partly to protect your modesty but also partly because he didn’t want anyone else seeing his girlfriend in her underwear. That was a view just for him, boyfriend’s privilege.

“Can you ask Nancy to throw this stuff in the dryer for me?”

“I can do that!” Eddie grinned, already reaching for the wet clothes.

“Nancy. I don’t want to get down here and find everything shrunk or some shit.” Steve said pointedly causing Eddie to give him his best kicked puppy look.

“Just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, you can help by getting Nancy. NOT Robin. NOT Dustin. Nancy. Jonathan at a push.” Steve insisted as he guided you towards the staircase, rubbing his hands over your blanket encased form to create a little heat.  

Once upstairs, he grabbed the comforter from the end of his bed and wrapped it around him, his teeth chattering.

“Steve, baby, I’m not sure just a dry set of clothes is gonna be enough to warm you up. You’ve been cold for too long. How about I run you a bath, we can you’re your body temperature up, then we can get you all wrapped up in sweats.” You frowned, noting the paleness of his skin and the way he was shivering.

“You’re just as cold. You should have the bath, I’ll be fine.” He protested, not used to someone taking care of him, that wasn’t how this worked. “I’ve got some stuff you can wear once you get out and while you take a bath, I can go make some hot drinks.”

“Steve. You’re freezing.” You said softly, tenderly caressing his cheek. “Is there any way I can convince you to get that fine ass of yours in the bath?”

“I’ll be okay. You need to warm up.” He hummed, leaning into your touch.

“Hold up, Harrington. Your house is huge, I’m betting your bathtub is big enough for two. Want to test out my theory?” You gave him your best innocent look and he chuckled.

“Now that is definitely one way of getting me into that bath. Lead the way.”

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steven Greetings #gndw fic

[lovelynim]

Loyalty

Genshin Impact - Thoma x Ayato (N$FW)

A/N: This is something I have been working on for quite some time. Well, I wanted to thank you all for the 200 follower milestone. I know I’m not as active as I used to be, but I’m glad to know that some of you still find my content among the thousands of posts and tumblr and that it still brings some joy to you.

So, take this (spicy) fic as a gift from me to all of you. Thank you very much!

Summary:  After a long time apart from each other, Thoma and Ayato finally manage to meet. However, thanks to a gift Ayato brought with him, their first night together seems to get an interesting turn of events.

Word count: 3225 words under the cut

Warnings:  Tickling, petplay, light bondage, explicit s€x.

It’s been a long while since the last time Ayato came back home. The clan’s leader had left his estate for meetings all over Inazuma territory and, since the very first moment apart, Thoma missed him, longed for his return over days and nights.

However, much to his happiness, his master returned home. It was a very joyful moment, full of preparations to celebrate the moment when Ayato came back. At their very first meeting, despite how much his heart ached, Thoma kept the formalities, greeting his master as any other servant. It was then, during their first meeting after the oh-so-long travel, that Ayato announced, to him, to his sister and to everyone present, that he had bought Thoma a gift, as a prize for his loyalty, on his way back home. 

In a more private manner, however, Ayato leaned closer to the housekeeper and whispered into his ear. “I will leave it inside your bedroom. At night, wear it and come see me in my room”, the clan’s leader instructed with a smuggy smile and all the blonde could do was nod. It was a gift from his master, after all, how could he even deny something like that?

The day followed as planned and, at night, while getting himself changed to bed, Thoma found a wrapped box inside his wardrobe. Being as gentle as possible, he got rid of the ribbon, holding his excitement while wondering what it could be.

And now, there he was. Kneeling in front of a pile of folded clothes, looking to the inside of the box in his hands in confusion, maybe disbelief, maybe both.

The fact that made Thoma flattered at first was now troubling him more than any other request Ayato gave him in all his life. It didn’t make sense… or did it? No, it couldn’t be… or could it? He shook his head, trying to figure out how he was supposed to wear it.

The blonde sighed, deciding to pull it from inside the box to make sure he wasn’t imagining things or getting the wrong idea. But there was no mistake in what he saw inside the box: it was a collar. A black collar with a silver pendant attached to it.

Seeing no other possibility, Thoma opened the small buckle before moving the object closer to his neck, wrapping it gently. Moving the blonde strands of hair away from his neck, a small ‘click’ sound confirmed it was locked.

Thoma slowly tapped the collar, feeling how it laid on his skin, testing if it was too tight and carefully tugging on it. After a few moments, the housekeeper noticed how long he was taking with Ayato’s gift, worried that he was making his master wait for too long.

As he got up, he tried to calm his mind, after all, it was a gift from the lord of the clan. It wouldn’t be ill intended, but… it wasn’t easy to settle his mind with something like that.

The collar somewhat fitted his looks, along with the sleeveless black shirt and shorts, maybe that was why Ayato bought it? But why would he need a collar to fit his pajamas? No, maybe it was meant to match his regular clothes…

Those thoughts kept coming to his mind until he found himself standing in front of the door of Ayato’s room. He swallowed dry, clenching one of his hands into a slightly trembling fist and knocked on the wood with the other. “Why am I so nervous?”, he thought to himself.

It seemed to take an eternity from the moment his hand touched the wood to when Ayato muttered, in the most elegant (and sexy) way, the words that sent shivers down the blonde’s spine: ‘come in’.

“Thoma…”, Ayato said, the dim light coming from the window bathed his back, covering his face in shadows. Yet, the housekeeper could feel the grin on his voice, “I’m glad you came.”

“My lord, I… ahm, thank you for the gi-”

"I suppose I find loyalty to be quite an attractive quality."

“P-Pardon me?”

“Your loyalty, Thoma”, he could see Ayato’s silhouette moving, how he slowly got up and took gentle steps towards his direction, “there is something about it… that makes you even more attractive.”

Right. That’s why he was so nervous. Probably every person in the Kamisato’s estate could tell that something was going on between Thoma and Ayato. As much as they would pull up an act in front of the others, there were moments they couldn’t hold back their emotions.Be it in a more light or in a more intense manner, they would always meet up at some point and bring ease to their hearts’ yearning.

The blonde watched as Ayato got closer. Taking his hand to Thoma’s face, he caressed the man’s cheek, moving his thumb across his lower lip before giving it a brief kiss.

Other than the sound of their own breathing, the room was engulfed by the silence while the two of them gazed at each other’s eyes. And then kissed again. And again. And again.

It was Ayato’s way to try to break through the so formal and competent facade of his loyal worker. Sly and cunning, he knew very well Thoma wouldn’t dare to take the first step unless he was ordered to do so or was teased enough, the latter being his favorite method.

The clan master grinned when he felt the blonde’s arms shyly wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. 

“Thoma…” “Yes, my lord?”, he gasped when Ayato finally decided to break up their kiss, trying to catch his breath.

“Ah, what can I do without you? I forgot part of your gift”, Ayato admitted, placing the back of his hand on his forehead as he acted dramatically.

Against his will, Thoma let the other move away, walking across the room as he searched for whatever was supposed to make that collar ‘complete’. He decided to follow Ayato, who was searching among the pillows and underneath the blankets.

“Do you… perhaps want some help, my lord?”

“No. I found it”, he replied, the excitement already clear in his voice, “come here, please.”

Thoma curiously stepped closer, noticing the grin on his master's face as his hands carefully approached his neck. Welcoming his touch, the blonde lifted his chin, making the access to the area easier.

He couldn’t exactly see what Ayato was doing, but he could feel a light pull on the collar, followed by a short ‘click’ sound.

“Good boy…”, Ayato cooed before planting a kiss on the side of the blonde’s neck.

“My lord-ahh!”, The quiet muttering was interrupted by a loud, surprised squeal when the housekeeper felt a stronger pull on his neck that made him kneel next to Ayato. 

As he landed on the ground, Thoma looked around and saw a strip of some kind of fabric wrapped around the other’s clenched hand. Following it with his eyes, he realized it was a leash, connected to the collar. The blonde took his hand to the small metallic buckle, grabbling the black leather strip and looking up to Ayato, with a faint blush on his face.

“Ahm… my lor-”

“I was right. It matches you perfectly.” Ayato commented, covering his smile with the back of his hand before giving the leash a gentle pull, “Thoma, bark.”

That was the moment when the housekeeper widened his eyes, taking his gaze up to Ayato. “My lord..? Pardon me, I think I di-”

“I said: bark, Thoma.”

“...woof.” 

“Good boy,” Ayato leaned a bit forward, gently lifting the blonde’s face as he used his thumb to caress the man’s cheek.

The blonde couldn’t help but blush. It's not like it was displeasing him, but rather… embarrassing compared to other times when they laid together. 

Ayato’s hand quickly slided down, placing his palm on Thoma’s chest before pushing the man down on the mattress and then straddling his lap, “I feel like I kept you waiting for too long,” he finished, pressing his butt against his servant’s crotch.

That alone was enough to draw a sharp moan out of Thoma’s lips. Those days apart from each other must have made his master more… needy, he thought, trying to process the whole scene. “A-ah, my lord-” he gasped, looking up to his master as he slowly took his hands to Ayato’s waist.

“And who said you could lay your hands on me?” The clan’s master interrupted, making the housekeeper widen his eyes.

Thoma was quick to withdraw his hands, nervously holding them close to his chest. “S-sorry…” Thoma muttered, with a shy smile on his face.

Taking a moment to analyze what he had in his hands, Ayato laid his palm open on Thoma’s chest, slowly sliding it down, feeling it move along the toned body of his servant and going up and down with his breathing. It was, however, when his fingers glided over the blonde’s navel, that he could spot how his whole body seemed to tense.

Taking a look at his expression with vulpine eyes, Ayato grinned. Thoma knew, at that very moment when their eyes met, that his master had something else in mind.

“I can tell… you’re getting excited with this whole thing, Thoma,” Kamisato's lord teased, dragging the tip of his fingers over his abdomen, “do you like being treated like a little puppy?”

“A-aha… my lord, I- ahah, w-wahait, nohot th- ah!”

Before he could reach for Ayato’s hands, the other moved the leash around, wrapping it around both the housekeeper’s wrists and pulling them aside, out of his way.

“No no no… bad boy, I told you I didn’t let you put your hands on me.”

“Ah, my lord, I’m s-sorry,” Thoma giggled nervously as he tried to free his hands, “it’s because it tihihickled! Ahahah, nahahat thihis! ~”

With no obstacles left, Ayato slid his hand inside Thoma’s tank top, clawing at his stomach and sides. He could feel how the housekeeper would try to yank his hands free or end up moving his wrists as he threw his head back into the pillows behind him, but Ayato made sure to keep his grip tight, always pulling the leash back into position, to make sure nothing would get in his way.

“What’s wrong, puppy? Don’t you like tummy tickles? ~”

“My lohohord! Plehehea- ahaAHAhah,” Thoma laughed, as each move of his master hand felt like sparkles against his nerves. The whole setting made it harder to resist anything: as much as he would try to bite his lips or scrunch up his eyes, the blonde couldn’t resist the urge to laugh for long.

Ayato could only grin, lifting his end of the leash to leave his servant even more vulnerable to his touch, the master leaned down, towering over Thoma as his free hand assaulted his ribs, dragging his fingers and pinching at the well-known spot.

“Such a handsome puppy, look at this bright smile…” Ayato whispered, praising Thoma while tickling him non-stop. 

“N-nahahah- M-my lohOHOhord!!” The blonde cackled loudly, feeling his cheeks getting warmer and warmer with each passing second. As if the whole setting wasn’t enough, his master comments were making the tickling even harder to resist.

Pinning his tied wrists above his head, Ayato decided to give the housekeeper a break. Looking down into his eyes, the clan’s leader gently caressed his face, dragging his thumb over the man’s lips before leaning down to give it a brief kiss, “enough playing around, yes, puppy?”

It was all happening too fast for Thoma’s mind to process. The leash, the tickling, the teasing, the kissing… what was actually going on? Did it matter? The only thing he could feel after the tickling stopped was how tight his underwear felt, how much he yearned for his master.

“M-my lord-” 

“I know”, Ayato interrupted, undoing the knot of his own clothes, “but you have to promise me you won’t move until I order you so.”

Thoma nodded shyly, and excited, at the new command given by Ayato. The blonde as his master started undressing, stripping himself piece by piece, until he was naked on top of his lap. 

The housekeeper could only bite his inner lip as he tried his best to keep his promise, clenching his hands inside the bonds restraining his wrists. Ayato giggled, even leaning back a bit to tease Thoma with a full view of his skin and spreading his legs, letting his hard length visible to his servant. “What’s up with your face, puppy?”

A short, quiet whine was all he got as his answer as Thoma’s cheeks were already in bright shade of pink.

With no words to say, Ayato planted his palm on the blonde’s stomach once more, making him jolt at the touch. Slowly dragging his hand down, the clan’s leader tugged at the hem of his shorts and brought them down along with his underwear, making Thoma’s hard cock flop against his stomach.

The two men looked into each other’s eyes in a moment of silence that felt like eternity. As eager as his partner could be, Ayato brought his free hand to Thoma’s member, stroking it gently, but being careful to not let the leash of his ‘puppy’ loose. 

It took him a few seconds, but he could finally see the blonde starting to crack up. Letting out longer sighs, breathing deeply, keeping his eyes half closed, those were all signs Ayato was looking for and, being honest, he was savoring each one of them.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes, my lord…”

Ayato smiled, making sure to let Thoma enjoy the pleasure as much as he could, slightly tightening his grip before keep pumping, making his fingers move all the way down to the base of his length before going the way back up to the very tip, caressing the sensitiving spot before starting over.

He was sure he could make his servant finish if he kept that for long enough, but that wasn’t the kind of ending he was looking for.

Drawing out a whine from Thoma’s lips as he ceased the motion, Ayato gave him little to no time to react to what he had in mind. Carefully placing himself over the blonde’s lap, the clan’s master slowly sat on top of the housekeeper’s cock, making it go all the way inside him.

“F-fuck..!” Ayato hissed, losing his teasing and composed facade for a moment when Thoma’s length hit just on the right spot. Taking a few seconds to recover himself from the aftershocks, the clan’s leader placed his hand on Thoma’s body to get some support and, finally, started riding him. “H-hah… all this time a-apart, I really- hnnph… missed this…”

Thoma could barely process what his master was saying at that moment, greeting his teeth as his eyes rolled with the harsh pleasure. Ayato was tighter than he remembered, making the whole thing even better. He could barely keep control of his moans when the only thing on his mind was how he wanted to thrust inside his master.

With one move of his hips after the other, he could feel the tension growing bigger and bigger inside him and Ayato could tell that he was battling the restraints more and more. 

“N-no no, puppy… take it like a good boy…” Ayato teased, yanking the leash to the side to expose Thoma’s torso to him once more before he used the hand that was supporting his body to start pinching at the blonde’s hips.

“M-my lor-aHAHahn..! AyahAHAHato, ahh, nOHOhot th-thEHEhere!!” Thoma pleaded between his moans and laughter, feeling the tinglish feeling near his waist. As his body started reacting on his own, trying to squirm and buckle his hips away, Ayato gasped loudly, barely losing his hold on his servant. 

Right. That was the perfect method. Thoma would trash so wildly that it would make his thrusts even harder. With a sadistic and needy grin on his lip, Ayato resumed the motion, digging his fingers into Thoma’s hips with just enough pressure to make him hollow in laughter.

The combination of the thrusts and the tickling were making the blonde’s mind melt, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to beg Ayato to stop or to keep going. He dug his heels into the mattress underneath him as he didn’t have strength left to squirm, throwing his head back as the flows of pleasure kept coming harder and harder.

On the other hand, Ayato wasn’t in a different position as he couldn’t coordinate his actions so well anymore. Each time Thoma reacted to the tickling, his length would go deep inside his master’s ass. The clan’s leader couldn’t be sure if he ever went that hard, but he had no doubts that it couldn’t stop so soon.

Ayato could feel his dick throbbing with stimulation with even some drops of seed sliding down his member. For how long were they fucking, he wondered, trying to press his hips down on Thoma’s with each move, just wanting him to keep going at that point.

“Ayhah-ahh..! Ayato..!” Thoma moaned loudly, starting to feel dizzy as the mix of sensations were combined. “I-I’m clohose, Ahaytoho! ~” He laughed weakly as Ayato seemed to ease up the tickle, letting out a rushed sigh of pleasure, but there was no response for his calls.

The clan’s leader wheezed as he kept riding, it wasn’t like he would be able to form any comprehensible words at that point. Letting go of the leash, Ayato used both his hands to support himself, getting more eager for the climax 

Having his hands freed, Thoma reached for the other man’s thighs, roughly pressing him down against his crotch in a more steady, but faster, move. And, with the tickling ceased, he could focus on the pleasure and on pleasing his master.

With one final and deep thrust, Ayato threw his head back as he reached his so-desired orgasm, with shots of his seed landing right on Thoma’s stomach. His moans, however, only got louder when the blonde reached for his cock and started to stroke it with each thanks to his cum.

“T-Thoma! Ahn, ahh- wait..!” 

“N-not yet, my lord… not yet…” He muttered, moving his hips along with his strokes as some kind of payback for what Ayato did earlier. The clan’s leader tried to hold onto Thoma’s arms, but his pulls were far from enough to make him stop.

Pushing his dick inside Ayato faster and faster each time, Thoma pressed his finger into his master’s thighs when he felt himself at the edge, cumming inside him as hard as he could.

The room would be, once again, completely silent if it weren't for the men’s heavy breathing. Thoma rested his head on the pillow behind him, feeling the tiredness reach his limbs, while Ayato tried to recover enough strength to actually do something, feeling his ass slightly numb after riding his servant for so long.

“I missed you, puppy…” Ayato mumbled, looking up to the blonde, who now had a smile on his lips.

“I missed you too, my lord…” Thoma answered, helping Ayato get off of his lap and lay down on the mattress.

Thanks to his loyalty, that was a place where Thoma would always be: by Ayato’s side.

#genshin impact #genshin impact thoma #genshin impact kamisato ayato #thomato #fanfic #anime tickling #tickle fic #spicy #thoma/ayato #genshin thomato #ayathoma #200 followers

[boldlyanxious]

Robinhood 3

Part 2

Masterlist

I didn't read back through so we just hope it all looks good

He thought long and hard about it later. She would not tell what harm she expected by not being able to complete the escape just that it had been her only opportunity. He knew it was because she didn’t trust him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of things that happened years ago or how he had treated her when he found her. But if they could manage this right, they might be able to use her to stage a coup in the region. The Agreste’s had gained too much power and they were abusing it. Given the right incentive Lady Marinette could be guided to take charge more and do something to help out. More than she was doing as Ladybug, making actual change to help people. Making both of their other identities unneeded and perhaps he could get his family back.

He looked across the courtyard where she was helping with the washing. She wasn’t very adept at scrubbing the clothes as the other women were, but she was working just as hard, perhaps harder. He had thought to suggest to some of the others that if they got close to her then she would confide in them. But maybe that would just happen on its own. Many of the people wanted her to stay here to keep her safe. Those she was working with now seemed to already have accepted her as one of their own. He would speak to some of those he trusted most later. If they could learn anything that would help them they would tell him. That would be beneficial to all of them.

He and Roy were going out scouting today with a few of the others. The group of younger lads would be delivering the supplies that were supposed to have been delivered by Ladybug. They may end up with the response to her not showing up at the expected time or possibly learn what people knew about her disappearance. He looked back at her once he was mounted on his horse. He had intended to do a last scan of their camp before they departed but she looked up at the same time and their eyes met. He didn’t look away and she refused so they were frozen there for several seconds until Roy shoved him.

“Shall I have a painting commissioned? I think that would last longer.” he dropped his voice low, “and not wish to never see you again.”

“Has she said she doesn’t wish to see me?”

“No, but I can’t repeat what she said about you. There are children present.”

Roy ruffled the hair of one of the group who would be going on his first mission. Then, he chuckled at Jason before getting astride his own horse.

—

Marinette watched as Jason and the others mounted up to go somewhere. She wasn’t sure where all of them were headed but she heard one of the younger ones say he would be delivering the supplies that she had when she had been captured. She was very happy to hear that. As much as those here needed supplies the village had been fairly desperate. She hoped the delay didn’t create too much hardship for them. Those in the camp were well fed and warm most of the time. Their chosen response to their situation granted them all they needed at the cost of being outlaws.

She could no longer go to the village. Her opportunity had been lost and now her plan had probably been revealed. She had planned to leave them some of her gold as well and perhaps a couple lucky ones would risk more for the higher value of some of her jewelry to help her get further away. But now her only option was to sneak away to try to make it another way. She knew the path that the carriage had been traveling so hopefully she could liberate some of her jewels to offer another on the way. She had a plan but she didn’t know if she would be able to pull it off. Those left behind were still watching her closely but they allowed some space after she had the opportunity to get away but she had remained. They were not suspicious of her and that would help her.

Her moment came sooner than she expected. They had washed piles of clothes and she was wringing them out and others were as well. The older ladies were hanging the clothes, leaving the younger ones to do the more intensive part. It was just how it worked. But it was work. Her fingers and arms were so sore. The next pile she passed over to be hung, she dropped. Not all of them were dirty again, but several were. She was sent back to scrub the dirt out of them once again.

She tried not to groan. She thought that it might even be a bit of a break to scrub more instead of twisting the clothes to wring them out. But the older children who were left there had already dumped the wash barrels as part of their own chores. She would have to refill the tub just to clean them. She was getting buckets of water to pour over the clothes, lugging it back and forth. People were still milling about, all focused on their own responsibilities. She rested her head and took a breath before lugging one more bucket of water. But before she lifted it, she paused.

It was quiet. She looked all around and didn’t see anyone. Just as it had been when she left her estate, it wasn’t ideal. She had no idea how long it would take for them to realize she was missing nor what their response would be. She couldn’t risk going to where the supplies were kept which was where she suspected her own jewels were. Instead she slipped into Jason’s tent. It wasn’t the biggest but he had his own while the others shared. It was very much a utilitarian set up.

She didn’t expect much from there. But a quick inspection yielded a silver emblem with a bat. She recognized it as belonging to the Wayne family. Along with it was a dagger with an emerald set into the handle. She nearly left it, but she considered that she may face danger and she would do better if she were armed. Whether the danger was from a beast or man. Using a piece of leather, she tied it high on her leg, under her dress. It was bulky but her skirt would hide it well. Looking out the opening of his tent, she waited until there was no one there and snuck out and moved quickly to the trees.

She could already hear voices searching for her but they hadn’t yet realized she had left. There were many places she could be within the camp. She wished she could have taken food with her but the midday meal had not been too long ago and if she had a good idea of where she was headed then she hoped to find safety and her next meal by nightfall.

—

Jason was very happy right now. They had intended to be out scouting for several days, but they had managed to come across a town being taxed heavily by Gabriel’s men. Instead of intervening during the process, they watched and waited to see where the men took the money. Typically when a town was taxed there would not be enough and the men would make an example out of a few. If they came upon this, they would stop them to protect the people. But now they were able to follow them to where they collected the money before returning to the Agreste estate.

He was disgusted at what he found. They were laughing at the reactions of the people while eating the food that would have kept the town from starving. He could hear how they were planning to not turn it all over to Gabriel so he would send them back to ransack the town. They wanted to hurt people. He would not let them get away easily with this. He wouldn’t just send them running away having come off badly in a fight to report back on what they found.

With a few signals he and the others quietly entered the building. Roy took two men with him to watch the back to ensure none escaped. The men inside were woefully unprepared. They were easily overrun and barely before they realized that they were under attack, they were being dragged outside and tied behind the horses for the journey back to where they had just come from. A couple stayed behind to gather the rest of what was inside while Jason and Roy went back to the town to return their taxes.

The town was quiet when they arrived. Roy used a shield to make a loud clanging sound and the people began coming out to find out what the racket was. They were confused and wary but when they saw who had come and the prisoners they had the chatter became more excited. Jason and Roy set about putting the tax men on display in the town square. The square had stocks already set up so they used those to restrain them.

“These men have taken what is not theirs and they intended to keep part for themselves so they could return and claim more.” Jason proclaimed to the crowd, “They wish to hurt you and take all your hard earned money and food to feed themselves. So while we work to return the money you have paid, I recommend sharing what you have. Feed them.”

He reached into a trough set out for the horses and pulled out a handful of the feed in there. He walked up to the closest one and crammed it into his mouth. The crowd laughed as he struggled to get away. He kicked his feet and spat out what he could. Unfazed, Jason moved on to the next one and did the same with the remainder and the part that the first one had spit out. Roy had already moved forward to continue with the third one. He gestured encouragingly to one of the townspeople who had taken a couple steps forward. He was an older man but he had a determined look on his face. He looked back at his daughter and then set his eyes on one man in particular before stepping forward.

Jason was willing to bet that the man had said something very offensive to the young lady to make the man react like that. He moved forward out of the way, allowing others to take their turn at the men. He could see some of the young farmer boys returning with buckets of pig slop. He joined the rest of his crew to expedite the return of their money and as much as the stolen food as they could recover from the depot. They finished quickly and promised to head back tomorrow before midday to send the men running before they went back to their own camp. Allowing the village to punish them on their own was better than any revenge Jason could have managed.

—

She wasn’t sure if everything was old or new bruises, but everything hurt. She had been traveling for hours and had finally come to a stream. She wished she could have found a horse but it would have been too obvious and loud. She had been able to forage some berries she recognized. She had seen some mushrooms but she couldn’t be certain of the variety so she didn’t eat them. She had eaten some bitter leaves that she knew were edible but they were not very good on their own. She tried to mix it with the berries just so she could have something in her stomach. Then she drank as much as she could of the cool water and chose to follow it hoping that it was the one that went close to where she would find Monsieur Damocles.

Nothing looked familiar but she had never come from this direction so hopefully she was still on the right path. Her feet were aching so when she came to another patch of berries she sat there and rested. Propping her back against a tree, she closed her eyes and tried not to panic. Everything looked bleak at this moment. She wished she had never left her house. It wasn’t reasonable for her to think that. She had no idea the dangers she would face if she had never left. Things looked bad now but she was in control now and away from the known harm. She was headed for safety and even if things felt bad now, they would soon be only a memory.

She was startled suddenly. She had no idea how long she had been there. She had fallen asleep but something had woken her. It was as if the hairs on the back of her neck had raised but that hadn’t been it. She had been fully asleep. Then she felt it again. A movement at the back of her neck. She jumped up and quickly pulled out the dagger. Then screamed as she realized that it was a snake that had slithered down from the tree. She slashed out as it recoiled. It darted forward trying to strike and she screamed again. This time when she slashed with the dagger, she struck true. She cut the snake right in half.

It twitched briefly before it stilled. She leaned against the tree to catch her breath. Her ears were buzzing and her chest heaved from the adrenaline but as she settled the tense feeling returned. She initially thought that it was just leftover adrenaline but she could hear rustling in the trees. Carefully, she crept around the other side of the tree and crouched down. The sounds were getting louder. It was from multiple directions and they were moving in towards where she was. They had probably heard her scream.

She could see two men on either side in front of her and then there were voices on the other side of the tree. She gripped the dagger tighter in her hand as they continued talking. Another came around the tree with a sword out. He held the snake out on the end for the others to see.

“Whoever was here won’t be far. It is a fresh kill.”

“We shall keep looking,” the other man said, coming into view. “We will find out what their purpose is in coming onto my land.”

“Monsieur Damocles?” Marinette asked, revealing herself.

She moved out of the shadows so she could be seen once she recognized him.

“Lady Marinette, what are you doing out here wandering on your own?”

She brushed herself off and approached him.

“I have been searching for you. I have been traveling on my own but I am not sure where I was exactly. I have come for your aid. There is no one else I can trust.”

“Come with me, my child. We have food and you probably want to clean up and rest.”

Taglist

@theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @izanae | @kittenmywaythrulife | @folk-ever-lore | @jayjayspixiepop | @achaoticmess1 | @adrestar | @zynna | @jeminiikrystal

#jasonette #maribat #Robinhood au #boldlyanxious #I had a rough night and need happy feels #also I'm considering unadopting my cat for giving me a rough night

[justcruzing]

☪ CHARACTER INFO

Name: Alexia "Lexi" Cruz Gender/Pronouns: She/Her Age: 32 Date of Birth: 10.30.1991 Place of Origin: El Paso, TX Occupation: Mechanic at Casey's Current Neighborhood: Shadow Lake How long have they been in town?: 2 weeks Have they triggered their curse: Yes Wolf Classification:(Beta Position in the Pack: (Member, Non Member, Leadership position etc.) Faceclaim:

☪ BIOGRAPHY

Born to a werewolf mother who left her shortly after birth and human father, Alexia Cruz spent her childhood living above her daddy’s auto body shop; more often than not falling asleep to the sounds of drill bits and saws. For as long as she could remember they had been the symphony to her life. A single dad after the death of her mother, Jorge Cruz struggled to make life livable for his little girl. The money the shop brought in was enough to keep them afloat, but left very little excess. As a result Alexia often wore hand-me-downs given to them by the local church and before each school year a trip was made to the thrift shop one city over. There little Lexi could pick out the fashions she wanted in an attempt to blend in at school. It was never successful. When she was young it was easy to blend in, but growing older meant that those who were ignorant started judging her for participating in activities that were typical “boy” things along with her more worn-out clothes. She never cared. Her father taught her that no matter her gender she should do what she found the most joy in and that money did not make someone happy, love did. 

Lexi excelled in sports, playing both softball and track. Her grades were never anything to write home about, the only subject that did not completely allude her was math. Her experience of helping her father work on the cars and needing to know the dimensions of various parts for the perfect fit was a big help in geometry. Of course, her biggest passion came from assisting her father. She was as handy with a wrench as any of the guys, perhaps even more than some, a skill carefully crafted under her father’s tutelage. By the time she was sixteen Lexi could change out a transmission in no time flat. Sixteen was also the same year her father had his first stroke. 

It devastated the pair and though Lexi tried her best to keep the shop afloat, the amount of work piled too high. The money wasn’t there to hire a full-time manager and the employees they did have quit when their paychecks stopped clearing. Without health insurance the bills from the hospital took too much, until finally the shop itself was sold to keep creditors at bay. In an effort to assist her father, rather than go to a trade school as she had initially intended, Lexi enlisted into the army on her eighteenth birthday and rolled out for basic training as soon as she’d graduated. Initially the army was just a way for her to send money home to her father, so that he could rest easier. 

Lexi however quickly found being in the army was an environment in which she thrived. A talented military mechanic with a keen mind for strategy, she rose quickly through the ranks. Her unit was her family, only away from them on short leaves to visit her ailing father. All of her money went towards his hospice care, a second stroke had ravaged the stoic man, leaving him incapable of caring for himself. Things shifted slightly after her first confirmed kill. Lexi did not know her mother was a wolf. The first time she shifted terrified her, and she struggled to keep the secret. She thought herself a freak. Only a talk with her father calmed her down, he had known. Lexi was angry that he had not thought to tell her before she enlisted, knowing that it was likely she would activate the curse. He told her that he had been stubbornly hanging onto hope that what he feared wasn’t true. 

For thirteen years she served faithfully within army ranks, doing her best to hide her condition. Until one day, horror struck. A dog had missed an IED. The explosion killed every man and woman within her unit. 

To this day, Lexi believes the only reason that she survived was because of her werewolf genes. Still, the blast had left its mark on her as well. The left half of her body was severely burned, her left eardrum ruptured from the force of the blast. Her right leg had needed to be reconstructed, and though healed now, she still walks with a bit of a limp. Certainly much less severe of a one than it would have been were she human. Hearing never returned to her left ear, and though her burns healed well, they still scarred thickly. The only saving grace there was that thanks to her lupine genetics she had not needed skin grafts. She spent six months in rehab, only to learn upon her release that her father had passed. Apparently his heart had not been able to handle the thought she might not survive. 

Alone, truly and utterly alone for the first time in her life, Lexi was terrified. Angry. Constantly getting in drunken brawls and fights. During one such fight she nearly killed the man, unable to temper her wolf strength while she was so inebriated. On the run from the cops is when she stumbled upon Lunar Cove. She’s been here for two weeks now and having gotten a job at the local mechanic and a house far enough away from others that she is sure they can’t hear her scream at night. Things are bleak. But maybe here she can learn to live again. Learn that the thing she has had to fight so hard to hide is a blessing rather than a curse.

☪ MISC INFO

Until she moved to Lunar Cove, Lexi had no idea that other super natural creatures existed, and was very limited in her knowledge about her own species.

Deaf in her left ear and walks with a limp on her right side.

Glares at anyone who stares at her scars for too long. She doesn't feel it is her obligation to hide the damage caused to her fighting for her country because they make the people who look at them uncomfortable.

More to come as I get to know her!

A map of Lexi's burn scars

#lexi.bio

[unhingedselfships]

The party didn't start for another six hours or so.

Which meant now was the time to start prodding Kimi into moving.

Oh hair and makeup were quick with her, low maintenance as she was in those matters. And if she needed something more intensive, she'd get someone else to do it for her.

But clothes? Kimi had two settings.

Knowing exactly what she was wearing weeks or even months in advance and having it all laid out and ready.

Or, like tonight.

Sifting through more than one extensive closet with no idea what she wanted.

He was glad she'd already started.

Less glad she appeared to have already given up.

She was curled on the floor, in front of a full length mirror, chin tucked on her knees, staring loathingly at the reflection. Clothes were strewn every which where, and she had nothing but basic undergarments on. 

Apparently it was one of those days.

"I'm not going," her tone was petulant.

"Do not be a child, Kimberly."

"I don't want to go."

"You wanted to this morning."

"I changed my mind."

"Why," he was rapidly losing patience with the girl.

She glared balefully at him over her shoulder, "Look at me. I'm fucking disgusting."

He felt his temper spike, “Excuse me? You’re insulting my taste?”

Huffing she turned back away from him, but still glared at his form in the mirror. 

“You can’t stand there and tell me I’m objectively anything but unattractive. I fit no modern conventions. I appreciate that you like me, for whatever reasons I don’t understand. I don’t, and neither does anyone else.

Her shoulders slumped further, “Dai and Phe don’t count. Phe is attracted to everyone, and Dai probably only stays out of obligation at this point.”

She knew that was a lie, and quite harsh of her but she wasn’t feeling very kind or charitable just then.

Meeting his eyes in the reflection, “We all make poor choices sometimes. I’m yours.”

Watching him, the way his eyes and expression shifted in that subtle way that meant he was deciding how annoyed or upset by something he was.

Voice brisk, “Fishing for compliments, are we, now? Well, you won’t get any more unless you pick something pretty and put it on for me. I didn’t want to go to this either, but you said it would be fun, you said you would go, and I don’t intend to deal with those people alone. So get a hold of yourself and get ready before I get pissed off and do something we’ll both regret.” 

She curled slightly tighter before letting out a long breath.

“Nothing looks right. Nothing sits right. I tried. I’ll- Figure something out. Sorry.”

Glaring petulantly at the piles of fabric, she let just the barest hint of teasing slip into her lightening tone, “What are you even talking about, you don’t do regret. And I hate fishing. Most boring anything ever. Next to golf.”

Was she being a child? Absolutely. Was it helping? Sort of.

Whatever worked.

Rolling her neck and staring at him from an awkward angle, “What color should I wear then? Help me narrow it down won’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Wear something that will match what I’m wearing I guess?” he blinks, glancing at his watch, idea formed, “Hmm. Actually, I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet. I think it will take me about twenty minutes to decide for sure. Now it’s possible that if someone shows up in my room with her own outfit ready before twenty minutes are up, my mind won’t be made up yet and I might just let someone else decide what I wear. But in twenty minutes, I think I’ll have made a choice on my own. So long, Kimberly! Good luck picking!” 

And he turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Blinking at where he had been she huffs, before rising to toe through her options again. Her mood was only mildly improved but oh well, she could manage.

Or well, she thought she could.

Slightly sheepish and very pouty, about seventeen minutes later, still not dressed, she slipped into his room, two hangers in hand.

“I can’t decide.”

He glances at them before pointing towards the left option, “Alright, now you didn’t arrive here with your outfit chosen like I’d asked. But I’m a generous man, so I’ll let you pick my tie. Only the tie.”

He said that like his tie wouldn’t also decide most of his other accessories but she let him have the win. Verbally anyway. And set about choosing one she thought would suit the dress he’d chosen for her, mumbling to herself about how much easier he was to dress than she was.

He leaned over her shoulder as she sifted through her options, “I am much less picky than you.”

She snorted, choked on her breath, before laughing, “Liar!”

And so they bantered as they got ready, and if his touches were a little softer, a little more frequent, than they normally might be well. Neither of them was going to mention it.

#yakkimi #kadokura-verse #kadokura kenshi #drabble #one shot

[nickywhoisi]

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY so thanks to @land-of-diesel-10 for just messaging me about the cool Magic Railroad behind the scenes photos, I have now been made aware of all of these incredible finds! So much production pics for both Thomas & Friends AND Tugs!! All of which may not yet have made it our way, but I intend to change that real quick! Thanks also goes to, of course, the choo choo groop discord that Coqui’s a part of, and the crew who went on twitter to upload all of this for the fandoms! Here’s where they all are if you want to take a peek!

I’ll leave Coqui to post all about D10 and the Magic Railroad in particular, but I definitely want to showcase these lovely Tugs images, and talk about them. It is so cool to see how it was made!

Wow, this is apparently how massive the sets were, pictured here at Bigg City Port. Look at how small that real life guy is at the very left. As we know, this was based on New York, but looking at it right now as a Vancouverite, I could almost swear that this was somewhere here, almost like a mishmash of the mainland and the island. The right side looks reminiscent of New West, while the right has that little blue and white chapel. I have seen a building on the island that looks almost like that, especially the placement being closer to the water. And everything around this area I grew up in has been pretty industrial like this anyway, so a part of me weirdly wants to headcannon that Bigg City is actually in Canada. Oh, but that’s just me being silly. We can also see the bridge which is so obviously San Fran bridge. But anyway, my eyes cannot get enough of all the details in this photo alone. There’s so many of these little buildings! So much that wouldn’t have even been more than brief background shots I bet, but the madlads put so much effort into making this set look like an actual full city! Everything is placed right, and they didn’t have to go that extra mile when the focus would have been elsewhere, but they did it! I wish I could walk around this set and peer down at all of those little hidden streets...see just how much detail went into everything. Like a curious kaiju.

Here’s another size comparison shot, with some guys from the crew standing next to a lighthouse(?) building and some of the tugs. If I’m guessing right, it could be TenCents, Sunshine, and...Boomer? I swear I see some orange, but then it might be a trick of the light, and it’s TopHat or something. As good of a pic it is, it’s very dark. Would anyone else be able to tell if this was a still from one of the episodes, or not? I would be really excited to know if this was a production on one of the episodes that didn’t make it past scripting! And I couldn’t possibly know what all that pile of glunkety is in front. Maintenance materials...?

Here’s a neat one! We see a shot of the bridge from a different angle, and see where the edge of the universe is. All propped up by a lot of wood. I can only begin to imagine how they managed to hold all the water used for the show. It looks like the water was always there, but I’m waiting to see a pic where it’s emptied. And we can see that the horizon shot was not so far away at all; just a cloth picture just like in the old-timey days of film! It still looks beautiful though. Oh, and there are the pipes for the tugs to have their smoke stacks working! Very neat.

Oooooh, and here we have one of the big ships that appeared in the show! I believe this is the famous Duchess? I always wondered why the main cast of boats had faces, but those like the Duchess didn’t, yet the tugs treated her like she was as sentient as them? Seemed to me like she was just a...regular not-alive cruise ship, but ehh. Finally, we can see quite clearly how all the boats were rigged and carted around...maybe at least while they were out of the water. Wild how all of that wiring is next to a giant basin of water that could short circuit everything if the wrong pieces fell in, eh? And I can’t not mention the weird-ass sight of Izzy without a hat. Good lord he is so bald he looks to be cleaved. Someone help him

#so that is everything there so far! #if there's more I am uploading the HECC out of it #and without stepping on any toes I would love to post those sodor maps! #some of the rough production photos would be cool #nice boat #behind the scenes #holy HELL this is cool #this is tugs

[merrick-of-violet]

Violet’s words had rung in his head ever since their visit. He needed answers, and although this wasn’t how he had intended to get them, they were still here in front of him.

The photo album he had found under a pile of clothes in her bottom drawer hadn’t been what he had expected to find when he had been helping reorganize the closet and drawers. Old newspaper segments cut up and placed inside of it, filled with familiar faces that he thought he’d never see again. Maria was right there in all of them.

Once it had been opened, it was impossible for him to close it again or put it back in its respected space.

There was a segment of missing individuals, those who he recognized immediately. Maria, Damien, William, Abe, the Chef, the Groundskeeper, the Butler, Mark. They all went missing in one night. What had happened? How did she not tell him about this? He could understand privacy, but these were his friends just as much as they were hers, people he’s mentioned more than once. Oliver knew he was being selfish, incredibly so, but he just— he couldn’t…

For a split second, Violet gets what it wanted.

Closing the drawer a little louder than he would’ve liked, the only thing giving away that he’s found the hidden contents was the picture laying on the floor of Damien and Maria. Then he was gone.

((heh sorry i had to))

@lost-soul-in-time

Merrick hadn't recognized him at first, honestly.

Her memories of her life before were horrendously warped and fuzzy thanks to her extended time inside the Void. But one day, Oliver had mentioned them when they were reminiscing about the past, and... she froze.

She wanted to say something... okay, she didn't want to talk about it at all. She couldn't. Fear had leeched into her veins like she hadn't felt in a century. Would he even believe her if she told him the story of what happened, or would she be villainized? Called a liar? Abandoned again?

So she said nothing. It wasn't her anymore, in her mind. It was someone else. And she was content with that. Until she saw the picture on the floor, and everything came crashing down.

Merrick forgot about that blasted photo album. Made when she was still clinging to the past, fresh out of the Void and into a world not her own. She always told herself she would burn it, but then she made the mistake of holding it too long and back in the drawer it went.

So Oliver had seen it... and he was gone. Hidden from her, anyway, since he couldn't leave.

She sits on the floor for too long until the pain in her back screams at her to move, but she doesn't. That same paralyzing fear rendered her immobile.

#Owwww #well well well if it isn't the consequences of my own actions #yes darling? (ask) #journey through time (rp thread) #il mio spirito prezioso (oliver)

[gracegrove]

so let's talk scene analysis shall we?

we've all established that relationship between karen wheeler and billy hargrove is problematic. that's not up for debate here in the slightest.

what i would instead like to discuss is the scene set up and how the duffers tailored that initial scene in a way that intentionally adultified and objectified billy and sexualized karen and set unsuspecting viewers up to consume a scene as being flirtatious and sexual and also consensual from the jump. that if a viewer doesn't think critically, and if they take the scene fully at face value as the duffers intended... then it looks like a scene being exchanged between mutually consenting adults who are entirely aware of all possible actions and consequences.

so let's start from the top.

it's a weekend evening. supposedly a saturday or sunday based on the timeline. in early november. it's well after dark. ted is asleep in his recliner. holly is asleep in his lap. ... he was most likely supposed to put her to bed but didn't and now they're both fast asleep. anyways...

karen is in the bath. with her book. and her pile of lit candles. and bubbles. when the doorbell rings. and again. and again and again.

she's screaming for ted to get it but he's asleep which pisses her off because clearly she was having 'me time' and she was not expecting company. so now she has to pry herself out and answer the door.

she flies down the stairs in just her bathrobe, quickly ties it and flings open the door. instantly surprised by this (taller than her) boy on the doorstep. the sexy background music starts playing the minute the door opens.

she's immediately taken by him and for a split second worries that she's not wearing enough clothing. he flirts. basically compliments her for looking young and pretty. strokes her ego. she loves it. but she knows he must be here to pick up nancy. oh but he's not?

he's looking for his sister? oh what a good brother. she's even more drawn in. such intense eye contact. he's leaning on the doorframe. she's invited him in. given him a cookie. got out her address book.

more flirting. the breathy way she tells him to drive slowly... the way he says always... oh ... and yell at my own child too while you're over there. she watches him leave through the door and she makes this little harumph noise and chews her cheek like she's got it bad for this kid.

so ... that's all face value.

now let's think a bit here.

it's the weekend. it's after dark. if ted's already knocked out in the armchair with holly and karen's gone to the trouble of drawing herself a bath it's probably well after dinner. it's probably close to like 9pm maybe later.

she lit all those damn candles. put in bubble bath. got her trashy novel. she planned on being in there a while. definitely did not expect company at all. she was winding down for the night. so technically (except the duffers kept it for the aesthetic of the scene..) she would have also taken off her makeup. her night is winding down. this is her time. most likely a relaxation ritual she clings to. and she probably would've gone right to bed after if the night had gone uninterrupted.

when she realizes that she has no choice but to get out and answer the door you can see she's annoyed. nobody is supposed to interrupt this sacred time of hers. now this is another choice i think the duffers made for the sake of the scene... she comes down in just a long bathrobe. i'm still debating whether karen would actually do that. or if this is more to do with the scene writing to immediately raise the stakes and make it sexier. because karen in every other scene always appears to be a woman who is well put together. she's always up on the latest trends. someone who cares, probably sometimes too much (at times) what others think of her. and so even if she's annoyed or in a hurry to answer the door and then get back to her bath. i still think based on the personality her actress and the writing put forth, that it would've made more sense that she'd have hopped quickly into a pair of pjs she set out. because she wouldn't want anyone to think she answers the door "like that"... suppose someone else had been at the door? ... it just felt like a piece that immediately sexualized her. and billy came to the door pre-sexualized with his shirt as it was. so...

immediately opening the door. it's karen who reacts first. billy wasn't even looking at first until he sees her dumbstruck face and then smirks because he knows how he can game this system. easy peasy. this pta mom will be way easy to get answers out of even if max isnt at her house. so he dials up the charm times a thousand. and she falls right into the trap.

also. she didn't even look before opening the door. she just threw it wide open. in her bathrobe that she suddenly becomes conscious of seconds later...why worry now about wearing so little when you were fine about flinging the door open with no qualms three seconds ago? most parents always tell their children to check or look out before opening the door. totally just throws that to the wayside. even though she's never seen this boy before in her life.

he says hi. she says hi. let's him flirt. drinks in all his compliments. all before she finally asks him who he is. nevermind all that... "i didnt realize nancy has a sister..." he clearly knows her daughter. why does he know her daughter? hmmm? who is he and why is he on her porch? she doesn't question that at all. he's just here to get nancy... at this time of night. it took her forever to learn who steve harrington was... so karen must either be very oblivious to what goes on in nancy's life and/or nancy purposely avoids bringing boys to the house for various reasons. which is another interesting thought.

he shares he's looking for max who hangs out with lucas... and therefore also mike. clearly karen's face shows she has no idea who this kid is... strike two that karen doesn't have a whole lot of knowledge on what her kids get up to. oh 'here he is' because her house is the designated hangout. isn't he so sweet? it implies she's the hip involved mom... which she most definitely isn't.

she brings him into the house. when she still really has no damn clue who he is. she has no damn clue who his sister is either so why? except he told her she looked young and beautiful i guess? and yet another writing choice, where the further sexualization of both characters in this scene moves it forward that it becomes 'acceptable' to bring him into the house. because truthfully he should have waited at the door even with his puppy-eyed flirting while she brought him what he wanted. information.

gives him a cookie. he looked hungry i suppose. gives him the byers' address and tells him to drive careful. oh, and while you're there can you tell mike to come home while you're at it? strike three that karen just doesn't give much of a damn as a parent. if she wanted mike home already she could've called the byers' house or gone over herself if she's that damn concerned which she clearly is not. so here billy. have a side quest... and a cookie.

"i'll see you later' more sexy music as billy walks out the door. implying that this is going to become very much a thing. she's looking at him damn near swooning. when he gets in the car looking annoyed as all hell and peeling down the empty street driving very much as uncareful as he can.

@every-dayiwakeup @ickypuppi3 @eddiebillysteve

#been thinking about this scene forever just hadnt had time to go on about it til now #billy #billy hargrove

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 19

*Warning Adult Content*

- Carlos -

John frowns at me and blinks and the glow in his eyes is gone so quickly he could easily convince me I imagined it if he wanted to.

The rest of what I saw is harder to explain.

"So, seriously, what is this?" Becky, the ex-wife asks. "Is he your roommate or something?"

"No," John says, still looking at me. "It's exactly what you thought the first time."

"Oh... Really? I didn't know you swung both ways."

She eyes me with sharpened curiosity.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me? And why does he look terrified?"

She takes a few steps closer and peers at me with a frown.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Becky, wait downstairs," John growls. "This doesn't concern you."

Becky shifts her attention to him and crosses her arms stubbornly.

I suppose I should take it as a good sign that she seems absolutely undaunted but then again, she could be even scarier than John, for all I know.

"Fine. But you better have a good explanation. I see too much shit like this in my job to turn a blind eye."

She turns on her heel and marches back downstairs.

John's shoulders slum, and when he looks at me again, his expression is guarded but softer than before.

Still, as he closes the gap between us and stands in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his body, I turn my head aside and shut my eyes.

"Carlos. Look at me."

He rests his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

"What are you?"

Still clad in my towel, I shiver as much with suppressed emotion and adrenaline as with cold.

John takes my hand.

"Come here."

He tugs gently, leading me towards his room.

I resist briefly, fearful that I've been lured into some strange trap but his gentleness wins me over.

"Sit down." He points to his bed.

I obey.

He bends and opens a drawer built into the frame beneath it and pulls out a set of soft garments, checkered pajama bottoms, a t-shirt, socks and a sweater.

So that's where he keeps his clothes.

He sets the pile beside me.

"Put those on and wait for me here. I need to get rid of Becky. Then, we'll talk."

"Becky... Does she know... about that?" I nod towards the closet.

My voice is little more than a rough whisper but I don't dare speak louder just yet.

"No. No one knows. No one who isn't like me, anyway."

"Like you?"

He rubs a hand over his mouth.

"Carlos, I've no right to ask you to trust me and I won't. Trust has to be earned. All I can say is, I never intended to deceive you. All of this just... happened and I haven't had time to figure out what to do about it yet. Just give me a chance and I'll explain. You have my word."

Well, I did say he was a man of his word.

"What did Becky mean about seeing shit like this in her job?" I ask, my courage slightly restored.

"She works with the DA. Human trafficking, mostly. Someone bolting out of someone else's bedroom, naked and terrified, isn't a good look."

"I don't know about terrified," I say, my ego feeling a bit provoked.

"A little alarmed, maybe."

John's mouth quirks in a smile and the light returns to his eyes.

"Sure. We'll go with that."

He rises.

"Just give me a minute. Becky brought some papers for me. She coulda sent 'em by email but I think she misses the dogs. Relax and look around if you want. I've got nothing else to hide."

He leaves me and leaves the door open a crack, giving me the impression that I'm free to go if I want to.

I consider it for a moment, getting my stuff, sneaking out the back, calling an Uber and going to hide at Ian Foley's place.

Whatever John is, I'd have a bear and demon at my back and a whole pack of werewolves, if I asked.

'Whatever John is...'

As the thought replays in my head, a new one joins it, he could be a threat, not just to me but to my friends.

For their sakes, if for nothing else, I need to find out what's what.

Dressed in his warm clothes, which carry his strangely intoxicating scent, I sit at his desk and take my time looking through the file on my mother.

Most of it is incomprehensible to me, written in the format and language that law enforcement agencies use to talk among themselves but it's mostly the timeline that interests me.

They were following leads for years after I thought they'd given up.

The whole reason Aunt Toni moved us to Oregon was because that's where the trail went cold or so we'd thought.

This says otherwise.

After Oregon, there's a report from Washington state, then New Mexico, then Maine.

It makes no sense and it tells me that if my mother was or even is still alive, she didn't want to be found.

I lose track of time, staring at the puzzle before me but John knocks softly on the door when he returns so as not to startle me.

"Sorry. That took longer than I thought it would."

He keeps his distance and sits on the edge of the bed, while I spin his office chair to face him.

"Is she gone?" I ask, unsure if I should feel relieved that we're alone.

"Yeah," he smiles. "She knows me."

"You're still fond of her."

"Sure," he says easily. "Becky's my best friend."

I frown.

"Why'd you separate, then?"

"That's what you're leading with?"

He huffs a laugh.

"All right. I did say I'd explain everything."

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"It was a... 'marriage of convenience.' Becky's parents are from China, and very traditional in their views. She has no interest in marriage but they wouldn't leave her alone about it. Meanwhile, the closer you fit to society's norms, the less you're scrutinized and I had an interest in blending in. It suited us both but over time, we realized it wouldn't work. We weren't in love and never would be and we were tired of pretending otherwise. So we split and when my brother died and left me this place, I asked to be reassigned."

"Reassigned... by the police?"

He shakes his head and nods at the closet door.

"You saw what's in there, didn't you?"

I nod.

He rises and crosses the room, opens the door and sweeps his gaze around the interior.

He steps through, then returns holding a battered shoe box, which he sets on the desk in front of me.

"I been digging through your past. Only fair I let you dig through mine."

He lifts the top off the box, revealing a small stack of papers, on top of which rests a photograph.

In it, a smiling family, a mother, father, an older boy and two younger children, stand in front of the castle at Disneyland.

Judging by the style of hair and clothes, I'd guess it was taken about thirty years ago.

"That's my parents, my older brother, my little sister and me," he says.

I study the picture.

"Okay, but why are you showing me your old vacation shots?"

"This is the last picture I have of us all together. A few weeks later, my brother left for college. A few months later, my father, mother and sister were dead."

"How?"

He sighs and picks up the picture.

"My dad traveled a lot for work, all over the world. Don't know where he got infected but by the time got home, it was too late. He killed my mom and my sister. He would have killed me, too, if David hadn't shown up and killed him first."

"David? Who's David?"

"A vampire hunter and a vampire himself... as he would say 'one of the lucky ones.'"

Wide-eyed with alarm, I touch the spot on my shoulder where he'd bitten me.

"Is that what you are?"

He shakes his head.

"I'm infected but not turned. David found a way to control it, to stop the infection from taking hold but it has to be caught early and it doesn't always work. He'd been tracking my dad, hoping to catch him in time. Instead, he found me as I bled out. My dad hadn't bitten me, you see, he'd just clawed my throat. David took a chance. He knew if he infected me, the infection would save my life. He also knew he might have to kill me anyway, on the other hand, if I survived, he'd have a very motivated protégé."

"That doesn't sound entirely altruistic," I venture.

John laughs softly.

"It was, and it wasn't. David isn't human, hasn't been for a long time and he doesn't see things from a human perspective. On the other hand, his entire purpose is to protect humans from 'our' kind and to protect our kind from humans."

"I thought you said he was a vampire hunter?"

John sets the picture back in the box.

"He is. He's never been able to isolate it but David's theory is that vampirism is caused by an elusive retrovirus, one that rewrites the host's DNA. Sometimes, the process results in someone like David, nine times out of ten, it results in a mindless monster, like my dad. David is part of a small, global organization of like-minded individuals who keep the monsters in check and the humans in the dark. You can imagine there wouldn't be much of a distinction between 'good and bad' if people learned vampires are real."

He glances at me.

"Speaking of, you don't seem as freaked out by that as you should."

I shrug and pick up the photo, holding it next to the one of me and my mom.

"I talk to ghosts and get possessed by demons, remember? I grew up with this shit."

He grunts noncommittally.

"I'm more freaked out by this."

I gesture at my mom's file.

"Why are you looking into it?"

"Vampires aren't all I hunt," he says, confirming my suspicion. "Rogue werewolves, feral shifters, the odd warlock or power-hungry sorcerer. We stay out of intra-community conflict, supernatural on supernatural violence isn't our concern but when humans are the target, we've got a case. Anything the human authorities aren't equipped to handle or the shit we don't want them messing in."

"What about demons?"

"Sometimes."

"What about my mom?"

He rubs the back of his neck.

"After you told me about the Feasts, I did some digging. The last documented case I could find, three murders that matched the description you'd given and occurred within the right time span, happened about twenty years ago, close to the town where you grew up. Your mother went missing about a week later."

"What?" I look up at him sharply. "No. There's no way Aunt Toni wouldn't know about something like that and she'd have mentioned it if she did."

"Are you sure about that?"

I frown up at him.

"Yeah. Why are you asking?"

He sighs, crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed again.

I rise and approach cautiously, standing in front of him.

"John? What aren't you telling me?"

"When you told me your aunt hadn't replied to your messages, I thought it was odd. Not unheard of for estranged family members not to speak but odd given how highly you speak of her otherwise. So, I asked the local sheriff to do a wellness check."

Heart in my mouth, I take a step closer almost involuntarily.

"And?"

"And she's gone. Her garage looks like it's been empty for weeks, if not months. The sheriff is investigating and has agreed to keep me informed of everything he finds. I'm sorry, Carlos but it appears that Antonia Martinez is missing."

"Whoa, whoa," I hold up my hands. "You think Toni has something to do with this?"

"No but I think it might have something to do with her. And with you."

I stare at him, no doubt with the wild, frightened look of a cornered animal and he rises and approaches me slowly.

As he does, his eyes shift color and glow with reflected light again, making me wonder how Becky never noticed there something a little different going on with him.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll protect you if you let me and we'll do everything we can to find your aunt. In the meantime... there's one other thing we need to talk about."

[ofashesandmoonlight]

☪ CHARACTER INFO

Name: Alexia “Lexi” Cruz Gender/Pronouns: She/Her Age: 32 Date of Birth: 10.30.1991 Place of Origin: El Paso, TX Occupation: Mechanic at Casey’s Current Neighborhood: Shadow Lake How long have they been in town?: 2 weeks Have they triggered their curse: Yes Wolf Classification: Beta Position in the Pack: Non member Faceclaim: Lindsey Morgan

☪ BIOGRAPHY

Born to a werewolf mother who left her shortly after birth and human father, Alexia Cruz spent her childhood living above her daddy’s auto body shop; more often than not falling asleep to the sounds of drill bits and saws. For as long as she could remember they had been the symphony to her life. A single dad after the death of her mother, Jorge Cruz struggled to make life livable for his little girl. The money the shop brought in was enough to keep them afloat, but left very little excess. As a result Alexia often wore hand-me-downs given to them by the local church and before each school year a trip was made to the thrift shop one city over. There little Lexi could pick out the fashions she wanted in an attempt to blend in at school. It was never successful. When she was young it was easy to blend in, but growing older meant that those who were ignorant started judging her for participating in activities that were typical “boy” things along with her more worn-out clothes. She never cared. Her father taught her that no matter her gender she should do what she found the most joy in and that money did not make someone happy, love did. 

Lexi excelled in sports, playing both softball and track. Her grades were never anything to write home about, the only subject that did not completely allude her was math. Her experience of helping her father work on the cars and needing to know the dimensions of various parts for the perfect fit was a big help in geometry. Of course, her biggest passion came from assisting her father. She was as handy with a wrench as any of the guys, perhaps even more than some, a skill carefully crafted under her father’s tutelage. By the time she was sixteen Lexi could change out a transmission in no time flat. Sixteen was also the same year her father had his first stroke. 

It devastated the pair and though Lexi tried her best to keep the shop afloat, the amount of work piled too high. The money wasn’t there to hire a full-time manager and the employees they did have quit when their paychecks stopped clearing. Without health insurance the bills from the hospital took too much, until finally the shop itself was sold to keep creditors at bay. In an effort to assist her father, rather than go to a trade school as she had initially intended, Lexi enlisted into the army on her eighteenth birthday and rolled out for basic training as soon as she’d graduated. Initially the army was just a way for her to send money home to her father, so that he could rest easier. 

Lexi however quickly found being in the army was an environment in which she thrived. A talented military mechanic with a keen mind for strategy, she rose quickly through the ranks. Her unit was her family, only away from them on short leaves to visit her ailing father. All of her money went towards his hospice care, a second stroke had ravaged the stoic man, leaving him incapable of caring for himself. Things shifted slightly after her first confirmed kill. Lexi did not know her mother was a wolf. The first time she shifted terrified her, and she struggled to keep the secret. She thought herself a freak. Only a talk with her father calmed her down, he had known. Lexi was angry that he had not thought to tell her before she enlisted, knowing that it was likely she would activate the curse. He told her that he had been stubbornly hanging onto hope that what he feared wasn’t true. 

For thirteen years she served faithfully within army ranks, doing her best to hide her condition. Until one day, horror struck. A dog had missed an IED. The explosion killed every man and woman within her unit. 

To this day, Lexi believes the only reason that she survived was because of her werewolf genes. Still, the blast had left its mark on her as well. The left half of her body was severely burned, her left eardrum ruptured from the force of the blast. Her right leg had needed to be reconstructed, and though healed now, she still walks with a bit of a limp. Certainly much less severe of a one than it would have been were she human. Hearing never returned to her left ear, and though her burns healed well, they still scarred thickly. The only saving grace there was that thanks to her lupine genetics she had not needed skin grafts. She spent six months in rehab, only to learn upon her release that her father had passed. Apparently his heart had not been able to handle the thought she might not survive. 

Alone, truly and utterly alone for the first time in her life, Lexi was terrified. Angry. Constantly getting in drunken brawls and fights. During one such fight she nearly killed the man, unable to temper her wolf strength while she was so inebriated. On the run from the cops is when she stumbled upon Lunar Cove. She’s been here for two weeks now and having gotten a job at the local mechanic and a house far enough away from others that she is sure they can’t hear her scream at night. Things are bleak. But maybe here she can learn to live again. Learn that the thing she has had to fight so hard to hide is a blessing rather than a curse.

☪ MISC INFO

Until she moved to Lunar Cove, Lexi had no idea that other super natural creatures existed, and was very limited in her knowledge about her own species.

Deaf in her left ear and walks with a limp on her right side.

Glares at anyone who stares at her scars for too long. She doesn’t feel it is her obligation to hide the damage caused to her fighting for her country because they make the people who look at them uncomfortable.

More to come as I get to know her!

A map of Alexia's burn scars

#alexia.intro

[ausaplenty]

Answers from a dead man

Crossover fic. Immortals AU x the Old Guard. Kiara. Booker.

Kiara added a roughly splintered log to the fire, no crackle or hiss because it was too damp from the blizzard raging outside. She didn’t need the heat and she wasn’t sure her companion did either.

He ought to be dead after all.

She’d seen death enough that she knew it. Had stumbled upon him in the white, Russian woods with short gasps as he struggled to breathe with a rope biting into his neck. She’d cut him down, intending to leave his corpse for the wolves and foxes desperate for food. And then she heard his heart beat anew.

Entirely new, not restored from something faded or weak. Beat as fresh as a babe’s inside the womb.

The vampire dragged him into a cave, carrying him through the shadows to avoid more of the bitter cold. She did not know if hypothermia was something that would end his second life, but it would be easier to deal with this on her own than to trust a villager.

Her fire was dwindling, the wet wood refusing to provide fuel for the hungry flame.

Kiara eyed the shivering body warily before starting to shed her layers. She piled the furs and wool on top of him before sliding into the darkness.

She was used to those who escaped death. Those, like herself, who became something else entirely; those, like her beloved, who became someone anew; those like Cane and Dorian who just never ceased to live. But those who died and just kept living? She had questions.

She found a farm, ignoring the beasts’ startled cries as she emerged from the shadows in front of the wood pile. A cat, curled atop the stack, hissed and arched its back as it recoiled.

“Hush,” she chastised distractedly as she dropped cord after cord into the darkness. The feline scrambled, darting to the corner to watch her warily. Satisfied with her collection, Kiara slipped back into the shadows and carried her prize with her.

The dead man was still unconscious when she returned, but still alive, his heartbeat loud inside his chest. She tucked the wood into a corner, away from the tree branch covered mouth of the cave, and then set about making her blaze brighter.

She’s lost track of time, honestly, until the muttered French outburst alerts her to her guest’s consciousness and she finds the dead man staring at her naked form.

Well, at least she knew what country he was from.

Unperturbed, she rested on her knees and raised a brow questioningly. “Are you feeling better?”

He groaned as he sat up, pushing most of her clothes away from him. “Where am I?”

“Russia,” she answered back in his language. “Pretty unusual place for a Frenchman to be, especially one as unprepared as yourself.”

Dead man shifted, backing himself against the cave wall. His grey eyes darted toward the cave entrance, hidden from light. Kiara could hear the storm outside, but that didn’t mean he could.

“You can try, if you’d like, to run,” she offered lazily, poking at the flames with a stick. “Freezing doesn’t sound pleasant, as far as deaths go, but who am I to know. You seem to have a better grasp on that. How is your neck?”

His hands fly to his neck, to the raw wound that is no longer there. His eyes widen, staring unfocused at her. She may not be able to read minds as her beloved does, but she knows enough about humans to know he is starting to piece things together.

He’s as flighty as her prey when she gives them a glimpse of her inhumanity – a smile with too much teeth, a grip too strong to break.

She sighs, knowing she won’t get the answers she wants out of him. Not when he doesn’t seem to know them himself.

“Fine,” she said, reaching for her dress on the pile of clothes he’d pushed aside. She pulled it over her head as he averted his gaze. “We can start with something simple. What is your name?”

He doesn’t answer, just warily watches her.

And Kiara is patient. She’s had centuries to learn, so she just sits there and waits, still as a stone.

Eventually, he breaks.

“What do you want?” he questioned, his voice raspy and weak.

“Answers,” she replied nonchalantly. She won’t get the ones she wants but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something to be gained. “Give me them and I promise I will return you to wherever you desire.”

There was a sigh of resignation, tiredness.

“Are you with them?” he demanded.

Kiara tilted her head, studying him. “With who?”

“The people from my dreams.”

“I can assure you. I’m with nobody,” she promised. “What’s your name?”

“Sebastien le Livre,” he answered, dragging a shaky hand over his face.

“Well, Sebastien,” she leaned forward, tossing a log on the fire. “How did you come to die?”

~*~

Kiara lingers on the edge of the crowd, keeping pace with her targets as they blend into the crowd. She knows the methods, familiar because they are her own and the way of practically every immortal.

Sebastien has a pack, the four of them spread and yet connected in a familiar way. She watches them move, watches the flicker of recognition on his face as he sees her. His pace barely falters, but it’s enough to catch the attention of his tribe.

The vampire stills, letting the four pairs of eyes rest on her on the other side of the crowded Manhattan street. A horn beeped, a metallic whine as one of those newfound motor vehicles races between the horse-drawn buggies and carriages. Satisfied that her presence is known, she weaves between the pedestrians toward an alley.

“Hello, Sebastien,” she greeted in French, noticing the way his feet barely make a sound.

He’d changed since Russian and France where she’d left him, more tired and resigned. Someone who had gotten answers to questions he’d never wanted to ask.

“You never gave me a name,” he responded, shifting slightly to try to block something from her sight. Over his shoulder, she saw two of his companions pause at the alley’s mouth, guarding it from curious passersby.

They were deceptively languid, the kind of relaxed that Kiara was familiar with. Like panthers ready to pounce.

“You can call me Kiara,” she supplied. “It’s been a long time.”

“You haven’t aged a day,” he commented, his grey eyes sharp and suspicious as they scanned her face.

She smiled, slow and wide, her eyes gleaming. “Neither have you.”

Kiara saw the fourth one, the woman, enter from the other side of the alley, moving so gracefully and dangerously that she might be worried, were she someone else. The woman was as tall as her, her clothes hiding a lithe form that the vampire would recognize as lethal even if she wasn’t centuries old.

“Calm down, Sebastian, I am not here for trouble,” she promised.  “I only want answers. I’ll even go any where you want.”

His eyes narrowed. “Central Park, night fall.”

She nodded and disappeared into the darkness as the woman reached them.

~*~

Kiara was perched on a bench when he saw her, a heavy coat on as the frost descended on the city.

“Not the same as Russia, is it?” She asked, watching as the lighters made their way around the park with their wicks. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, not with the way your pack seemed spooked.”

“As if you couldn’t find us,” Booker reminded her. Unconsciously, his hand moved to his neck, where the wounds had healed decades ago. “I still don’t know whether our last meeting was real or a fever dream.”

“I think the fact you’re here is evidence of its reality,” Kiara mused. “You found your answers?”

“Not all of them, no, but more than I knew,” he replied, raking his dirty blonde hair away from his face.

She could feel eyes on her, in the nearly empty park, and some part of her felt relieved that he’d found someone to answer them.

“Does it hurt to die?” She asked.

“You don’t know?” he looked at her, surprised. “You’re not?”

“I’m dead of course, but I am not like you,” she answered, leaning back. “My death was more of a … transformation. A painful journey into a new life.”

More than 200 years had passed since Amity, since she’d seen a trace of her beloved. She’d traveled the world, watching humanity change and grow. Cane insisted she was insane, that her beloved’s reincarnation was not a possibility. But what did he know, when she witnessed things such as the man before her.

And sometimes, there was the nagging doubt that she was meant to find her beloved, to usher in the pain that she tended to herald.

“It is excruciating,” he answered, sounding pained. “No matter how many times I come back, the only difference is how fast I will heal.”

“Would you not, if you could choose?” she pressed. Would her beloved choose to return, if she knew Kiara was waiting?

“My friend says we are all meant to die, but we do not get a say in when it will happen.” Sebastian watched her with sad eyes, burdened with pain and understanding. “And I wish so often that I did.”

Kiara smiled sadly.

“It does not seem hopeful, does it,” she wondered out loud. “When all you have to do is wait to die?”

He chuckled darkly, a bitter note. “My friends feel different, because they have another. It is not the same when you know that you will have somebody to live with you.”

The blonde clung to the hope that whoever her beloved returned as, she would know Kiara was waiting for her. Somehow.

#kiara scuro #Immortal AU #CoronaWriMo

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Painting Fires (Part 1) - Andy Herrera x Fem!Reader - Station 19

Summary: when the stress of Station 19 adds up with questions in Andy Herrera's head add up to something unexpected.

Part 2

A/n: this diverts from canon like a curly wurly chocolate bar, also mentions a one night stand, there's no smut but it's alluded to, so, read at your own risk, and don't ask me where this happens in canon, because that will give me another headache:)

///

It had started when Maya admitted she trusted Jack Gibson, and he trusted her. Andy's response was she trusted Maya too, her heart aching slightly as she realised it was different between those two than her and Maya. She didn't realise how complicated it was.

After everything...

Andy hadn't realised how much everything was piling up, leading to one conclusion.

A bar, drinking beer, her eyes on you.

She usually hated going out to bars, reminding her of back when Vic and Maya wingwomaned her into talking to Handsome Brad way back when.

Sipping her beer, she smiled slightly into it as you glanced over at her, meeting her gaze for a moment before sipping your drink too.

Maybe her plans included tripping over canvases as the two of you were making out, stumbling slightly over an easel before you let out a giggle and led her around them to your bedroom.

///

Your place was more interesting in the daylight, when she could see what had tripped the pair of you up before.

The first woman she slept with was an artist. She almost rolled her eyes at her choice but it wasn't a firefighter or someone from Seattle Police Department, she'd asked before leaving the bar with you.

Slipping into what she could find from her clothes, she ended up picking up a shirt that was definitely not hers, walking bare foot around your place as she finally located you.

You were standing with your back to her, nursing a cup of coffee as she walked in.

"There's more coffee, if you want. Food too, or there's also a note on the fridge for uber. I don't know what you want." You pointed out, cradling the coffee like it was your precious.

"Um, was that Italian, last night? Because-" Andy asked, pouring a coffee as she chewed her lip, debating whether she should have just gone for the uber.

"Yeah. I'm from Italy, but came here to study more art, a master's. My brother was already here, he sounds more American, but my sister sounds more Italian than me." You replied, finishing your coffee and leaving the mug next to the sink.

Nodding slightly to Andy, you walked around her, heading towards another room and leaving Andy in the kitchen.

"Spanish, last night, yeah? I only knew a couple of dirty words... wait, there's something I have to ask, I'm not just a rebound for a rocky relationship, am I?" You paused in the doorway, turning your head to look at Andy drinking her coffee, smirking until your face fell to unnerved.

"What? No, I just, needed a break from everything, and wanted to try something new- you asked that like it's happened before?" Andy frowned, finishing her coffee.

"Yeah, I could tell you were new at it... and yeah, last person I started liking just used me as a rebound from her relationship with a guy going rocky, and I've been experiencing artists block ever since, until now." You smiled softly, tilting your head at Andy's wide-eyes.

"Relax, I don't paint portraits without permission, I was going to paint a firetruck or something, maybe one of those candelight art pieces that looks like a vulva." You rambled, turning to walk into your art studio, aka what was supposed to be the spare bedroom but you had art supplies in instead, along with her shoes, which, like the canvases, she had tripped over last night.

"I forgot I left those out, wasn't intending to trip over them last night, sorry about that."

"By the way, that coffee was fantastic." Andy commented as she followed you into your studio, watching you skim through pencils to find the perfect one.

"Of course, it's Italian coffee, not that disaster you Americans call coffee. Although it was supposed to be a cappuccino, you forgot to add the milk." You replied, placing the pencils down to start looking for a prepped canvas to work with.

A soft smile graced Andy's features as she watched you fiddle with paints, the little grumbles you'd make when you didn't mix the perfect shade, her body leaning into the doorway as you began to sketch out what you were doing.

"Thank you, by the way." Andy's voice cut through the silence as you twirled the pencil between your fingers.

"For?"

"Not playing around, being so considerate and respectful." Andy replied, watching as you nodded to yourself.

"I told you, I could tell you were new at it." You replied, hesitating as the paint brush lingered over the canvas, "you didn't use me as some experiment, right? Wait- I mean- not that I would totally mind? Since, you know, if it helped you figure things out then I’m happy I could help. But I got used before, so it's a sore spot, and why I don't meet my sister for lunch unless it's outside her workplace, but she's busy bringing lasagne over to her... I'm going to stop talking now." You cut yourself off, realising you were rambling.

"No, no, I... I had a feeling, well, it was more than a feeling, for a while now. Last night I finally acted on it, and I don't regret it, I just, don't have a label for it. I do regret the fact that I have to go into work now. Will I see you again? and, I mean, not just sex, I just, it's nice here." Andy waved around, leading you to laugh, putting down the pencil so you could see Andy off to work.

"Wait, we... never exchanged names, fiamma." You whispered, resting your head against the closed door as you realised.

///

"So, you didn't come home last night?" Maya whispered, catching Andy at her locker, about to change into her uniform.

She didn't see the raised eyebrow from Maya as she folded up the shirt she had been wearing, your shirt.

"Whose shirt is that?" Maya asked, leaning against the locker and glancing around to make sure nobody else heard.

"Um, I don't think here is a great place to talk about it." Andy admitted, pulling on her shirt as Maya nodded, waiting until Andy was fully uniformed-up to drag her off to a separate room.

"So, what's going on? I mean, you don't have to tell me-"

"I went out last night, met someone, and she was amazing, she was kind, considerate, checked up on me... and I had no clue what I was doing was any good, but if it was horrible... then this girl was really nice to not make fun of me. Or she was great at faking it."

"Wait, wait, a girl? Since when, and you, you liked it, and her?" Maya began to smile, as Andy rolled her eyes, whacking Maya on the arm.

"Shut up. Okay. Let's just say, I was for sure not faking it, she was great. I don't really know what I am, I don't have a label, but it was great, to be with a woman, it was so great-" Andy was cut off as the alarms began to go, calling for Station 19 to head out.

"What was her name?" Maya asked as she and Andy hurried over to the rigs.

"We didn't exchange them. She called me fiamma."

///

Carina DeLuca smiled as she spotted you at the Grey Sloan coffee cart outside, walking over as you presented her with her coffee order.

"Andrea is in a surgery, he said he would be here as soon as possible." Carina explained as she grimaced at her coffee.

"I know, I know, it's disgusting." You admitted, sipping your coffee as Carina glanced at your hands.

"You're painting again? No more, what did you call it, artists block?" Carina remembered, her eyes on the paint on your hands before spotting a little on your face too.

"I was inspired." You smiled, letting out a squeak as Carina began to wipe at your face with a napkin.

#andy herrera x reader #andy herrera imagine #station 19 x reader #station 19 imagine #station 19 #andy herrera #maya bishop #carina deluca

[rocorambles]

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #naoya x reader #naoya smut #yandere naoya #tw: noncon #tw: abuse