#i make good stuff for myself and can barely get a few bites before i feel sick and gross | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angel-of-the-moons · 8 months

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hi!! i’ve recently been struggling with my eating disorder, and i was wondering if you could do a hobie x gf!reader where reader is having a really hard time eating and he comforts her and helps her eat? lots of physical touch and words of affirmation if possible - and if this req is uncomfy i get it !!

Awww hon I hope this helps you feel a bit better!

Let Them Eat Cake (Or Something)

Soft!Hobie x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Eating Disorders/Anorexia, hints of depression, bullying, some mental trauma, back at it again with the fluffy bullshit (Hobie also makes an inappropriate promise but nothing is detailed lol)

A/N: I myself struggle with eating disorders brought on by financial strains and mental issues (still do) so I totally understand this kinda thing!

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It was the little things Hobie did to take care of you that most people probably couldn't imagine someone of his niche to do.

Things like peeling off the nutrition labels to things you'd buy at the grocery store so you couldn't stress over the calories (or lack thereof), buying those meal replacer shakes for you to try when you didn't want to eat; hovering over (respectfully) when you prepared your meals, saying little things to encourage you to fill your plate more.

"Ay, you should try this. Saw it online and heard it tastes pretty good with that, yeah?"

"Jus' a bit more, I can still see some on ya plate there. Almost done and it's less stuff wasted, right?"

He would even call or text you to eat one of the little snack baggies he'd prepped you full of healthy snacks. Even if it wasn't a full meal, helping you eat throughout the day brought him peace of mind so he wouldn't worry about you wasting away.

He'd read up on eating disorders and didn't like it one bit, so he devoted half his time with you around meals more focusing on you, even while he scarfed down his own portions.

Hobie had an insane metabolism, it was like he was constantly eating something in some way or another to keep himself going, and at some point you'd joked he had a black hole for a gullet.

But still, he would watch you out of the corner of his eye, taking your little mouse nibbles here and there, sipping your drink...

He knew that bringing it up front would only upset you, so he'd do little things to distract you from your thoughts of your food. He'd play little games with you. Like 20 questions. If you got one wrong, you'd have to eat another bite of your food. It would continue like that until your food was gone and you didn't realize it.

A punk with a heart of gold, Hobie Brown was. Though he'd never admit it out loud, even the members of his band would snort and laugh at how soft he was with you; though they understood completely why.

Today, you and Hobie went out for lunch, and you two attracted more than a few curious glances at your contrast in styles when you sat down to order. People just loved to stare, didn't they?

You idly played with your chips, pushing them around on your plate, your chicken sandwich sitting with just a few bites taken out of it.

"Ay, luv. Eyes bigger than your stomach, again?" Hobie asked, sipping his pop.

"Yeah... I just didn't think there'd be so much of it. I just..." You sigh, feeling defeated.

You'd had this problem since you were barely a teenager, and it only got worse after time. At least you stopped making yourself vomit up all your food.

You remember how badly it went when your mother caught you doing that.

In truth, you only started starving because... well. In school you were always insulted by the "prettier" girls. You'd always assumed you were pretty too, that's what your parents and relatives would always say. But being in the face of a gaggle of obnoxiously made-up girls rag on you in the lavatory, in gym class, or lunch... the pressure to be "thin" was hammered into you. If you looked like them, they would leave you alone.

And from there it went. You'd tried dating before, but none of your partners ever took care of you. Hell, one of them practically encouraged it and showed you diet pills online. You broke it off pretty quick after that.

Hobie was honestly the first to not automatically suggest you get locked in a mental ward, or just force yourself to scarf portions that were too much for your shrunken stomach to handle. Hobie was gentle and sweet, understanding with you.

Like he was right now.

"Well we can box it up and you can toast it up for later, alright?" He suggested.

His own plate was empty and your still practically full one wasn't lost on him. But he knew that directly pointing at the elephant in the room would only upset you.

His boot nudged your foot under the table and he gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah.... yeah I can do that." You smile back sheepishly, letting Hobie flag down the server so he could pay (his treat, after all) and get you a to-go box.

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Later that night, Hobie had reheated some leftovers from the night previous and toasted your chips and sandwich for you to finish off again; because ugh, nobody enjoyed soggy microwaved chicken and chips. And if they did they were a complete loon.

You sat snuggled up on the sofa, your food in your lap as Hobie's characteristically empty plate lay on the coffee table next to his propped up feet as the program droned on the television in front of you.

His hand rubbed your arm lazily up and down in a soothing motion as his eyes flicked down to your plate.

"You gon'a finish that, luv?" He hummed softly, kissing the top of your head.

"I..." You sighed down at the plate in your hands.

"'S all right." He mumbled into your hair. "But ya do worry me, baby. How about this... if you finish your food.... hm."

He looked at the ceiling and you could tell that he was faking thinking of something serious.

You knew it especially when he gave you a cocky smirk.

"If you finish your food, I'll do that thing you really like, for you, eh?"

"Hobie!" You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

"Oh? Not what you want, hm? How about..." He tapped his chin with his free hand, once again making a grand gesture of "deep" thought.

"Fine fine... how about we go to that li'le art museum you've been goin' on about?"

Your eyes light up and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Yep! Really. But only if you finish your food." He put a finger under your chin and kissed your nose.

"And eat breakfast tomorrow."

"Deal!"

Hobie smiled to himself as you tore into your food with motivation.

Being Spider-Man didn't always mean fighting the oppressive regime they were stuck with. It wasn't always about thwarting criminals in the streets.

Sometimes it was about coming home and making sure his girlfriend had enough to eat.

And that was plenty for him.

#answered #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader

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countrymusiclover · 2 months

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1 - Matching Marks

Part 2

It’s About Time

Tags just ask - @lover-of-books-and-tea @bvbwestfall l @bubble-blu @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley @skeletonontheroad

What defines a Best Friend. A best friend is somebody who is always there. A best friend will do the most stupid and dangerous stuff with you most of the time. A best friend relationship however will make things rather complicated when you start developing feelings for them…for me that was around age 15 -16. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to age 12.

Georgie and I were running around the backyard of his house chasing each other. My parents were out on a date night so I was staying over at his place. We were in middle school during that time. “Y/n, I’m gonna get you.” He called out to me while he was nearly on my heels.

“Yeah right, Cooper - ah ow!” I suddenly tripped on a part of the swingset. I held my wrist seeing some cuts across my right wrist but it didn’t seem dislocated or anything.

Georgie came rushing over to check on me. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“I think I’m gonna be okay. But this is all your fault.” I snapped showing him the scrapes on my wrist that weren't just a little cut.

He slumped his shoulders. “I’m sorry but what do ya want me to do about it?”

“Make me feel better.” I answered him with a snarky remark.

Georgie bites his lip for a second thinking until he saw a somewhat sharp rock on the ground by the swing which was what I had tripped on. He picked it up drawing it across the same wrist as mine doing his best to copy the marks I had. “There now we have the same mark. We are even.”

“Ya know only a real friend would do something like that, Georgie.” I said when he helped me up off the dirt ground looking up into his eyes since he was barely taller than me.

He sent me a cheeky smile, bumping my cut wrist with his own. “We’re best friends. Always have, always will be.”

Laying on the couch in the living room of my house I was on my own until my parents came home from work after getting done with school for the day. Somebody knocked on the front door and I bolted upright knowing who it was. Opening the door, Georgie stood on my front porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you’d be bored and my Meemaw sent me for beer and said she’d tip me in fire crackers. You wanna come with me?” He asked me.

I shake my head grabbing my coat at the same time. “I don’t know. Can’t we get arrested for this?”

“Possibly but only if we get caught and I think I can be pretty convincing.” Georgie didn’t see my worry with it.

Shrugging on my jacket I followed him to his meemaw’s car knowing she trusted me to drive. I was only a few months older than him so she knew I was closer to getting my drivers license then he would be. “Okay, I’ll drive but you go into the store. My parents will have my ass if they find out.” I warned him starting the car and we headed to the store.

We pulled into one of the closests parking spaces since she had handicap plates giving me a view of the cashier woman who looked to be his meemaws age. “If you’re lucky she won’t ask too many questions. I’ll be waiting here.” He shut the car door and went inside. I kept a close eye on the women while he was in the back getting a case of beer that she liked before going to the counter.

Georgie and the cashier were chatting up for a few good seconds then coming out with the case in hand. He came outside putting the bag down on the floorboard looking at me. “I can’t believe my accent worked.”

“You’re what now?” I raised a brow at him.

He looked back at me. “I used an Italian accent.”

“Georgie…” I groaned, hitting my head on the steering wheel where the horn went and the front entrance of the store door flung open with the elderly woman shouting at us.

“Give me back that beer!”

Georgie whipped his head around to me panicking. “Go, go!” I slammed my foot on the gas and spun the steering wheel around until we were out of the parking lot and away from the store. I wasn’t sure how fast I was going or if the cops were on us because I didn’t stop driving until we got back to the Cooper house.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” Sliding down in the driver’s seat to hide from someone’s view.

Georgie chuckled, reaching into the bag taking out one of the beers pointing it in my direction. “You wanna celebrate. I doubt she’ll know it’s missin’.”

“No! We’re only 14.” I raised my voice at him quickly getting out of the car. Going inside the house I covered my ears hearing music blaring through the house and figured it was coming from his sister's room she shared with Sheldon. When their memaw babysat there were no rules.

Sheldon, who was playing cards with his memaw, saw me standing by the kitchen backdoor. “Y/n, are spending the night?”

“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” I questioned him.

He replied looking back at his cards. “I am just making sure that you won’t mess up my bathroom schedule.”

“I don’t think I will.” I lowered my hands from my ears the second the backdoor opened and Georgie came in carrying the bag.

Memaw turned in her chair across from Sheldon when he handed her the bag. “They give you any trouble?”

“Nah. Oh yeah, change.” Georgie reached inside his pocket holding it out to her.

She held her hand up., handing him some packs of firecrackers. “You keep it. Here you go ... .hey unless you want me to take them back you better give me my missing bottle.” She paused searching through her bag noticing the bottle.

“Fine…” He grumbled hearing me chuckling behind him. “Be quiet Y/n.”

“I told you she’d notice. I tried to warn ya.” Shrugging my shoulders we both walked outside into the backyard.

Georgie lights off the first firecracker throwing it in the grass and it made a loud boom making contact. He hands me the next one nudging my arm. “Give it a go.” I nodded, throwing it up into the air and it hit the grill creating the same boom.

“Wow…Georgie, can I ask you something?” I spun on my feet throwing my hair in my face.

He stands close to me still holding onto the pack of firecrackers in his hands. “What is it, darling?”

“Are we always going to be my best friend? I mean I know we have these marks but does this mean the same to you as it does to me?” Rolling up my jacket sleeve I showed him the familiar cut mark.

Georgie smiled, putting his wrist with the mark up against mine. “We’ll always be friends.” I nodded but I had hoped he would be able to read between the lines someday that I maybe wanted more.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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ziracona · 7 months

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Playing OWB, I always knock out lobotomites because they're victims, instead of kill them. Which sucks, because I only have boxing tape on me. It ain't easy :'-) but I've had several weird what must be glitch encounters with ones that are marked hostile but quit attacking now, and my experiences got me thinking about story stuff in OWB, so a little piece from the POV of a lobotomite experiencing my Courier 6. Which is a very interesting and fragmented pov to write, but I liked doing something very different.

I see something leaving the big house.

They come one by one usually, the ones not like us. They hurt us. Always.

Everything here hurts.

So, we kill them. We stop them.

One of us makes a sound in his throat, nods towards the shape. We’re all alert with the sound, turn to look. Take out weapons.

I draw my gun. My fingers know the trigger. Know the barrel like it’s another finger. I aim at the shape. It walks towards us and pauses at the top of the stairs, sees us see it. Takes a step back.

Good. Maybe an easy fight for us then.

The man who pointed the figure out charges, drawing his spear. Another of us runs with him, saturnite fist ready. I stay back behind, and shoot.

I hit it. I see my bullet clip the shoulder. The thing cries out and falls back a step. Somehow, not hurt bad. Armor, I guess. We don’t have it. I have the dress they give at a hospital. I don’t remember what I had before.

It makes me angry, so I walk closer, keep shooting.

My companions reach it, and I see them fighting. I see the figure has a gun on their hip, a spear at their back. But, they don’t draw the gun. No bullets maybe? They hit, bare fists. Pound, pound, pound. Crack, crack, crack.

Cuts open up on them, along their face and body, their back, their hands. They jam something into their side and fall back a step, and I see cuts close like magic. They’re afraid though. Eyes big. Surely, just fists against us, we must win.

But we don’t. It fights fast, hard, and above all, with stamina. It won’t go down. Heals itself again and again somehow, and hits and hits until the leader goes down. I feel a pang of fear. The second goes down a few seconds later, a fast upper-cut from this things. Then it turns to me.

I feel real fear. But. Surely. I must win, against this? A human. Wrapped fists. Nothing else.

It meets my eyes, and I see determination. It rushes me.

Panic. I fire, I fire, I fire. I know I hit it. A bullet even grazes its head. But then it’s on me, and a fist finds my face.

Pain. Hurts, bad. I lose strength from it. I keep trying to shoot, and I hit it, even so close, but it hits me too. Crack, Crack, Crack.

I feel myself breaking down. It gets me in the head, and I’m gone.

I think ‘I have died?’

Fear.

Then I’m gone.

Only. I’m…not?

I…wake up.

Not sure when. …Later. It’s gone now.

I sit up, head aches, confused. Why? Must have thought I was dead, I guess. But, I reach for my gun. It’s gone. Stolen. But everything else is here. My cloth I wear, my head strap I can’t get off, the lighter I picked up. And…an apple?

Confused more, I feel it in the gown pocket, take it out.

Fresh. Fresh apple. Smells…good? I take a bite, because I am hungry. It tastes good too.

Amazing. Usually all I eat is meat from something killed, or maybe old spoils found. Stale chip, can of beans, or if very lucky, these cakes of falling apart breads with sugars in tiny boxes. This is fresh, like it’s not old at all. Pretty, bright red.

I eat it all. Around me, I see the other two get up too. Alive. One takes out a pear. Confused too. I think about fighting him for the pear, but I haven’t finished my apple, and he eats the pear by the time I do. The other has an apple too. We eat. We move on.

I see the human again, same day maybe. Later. Far away from the big dome now. It’s leaving one of the smaller houses, full of horrible things. I see it from a distance and don’t know it’s the same one. Just hear fighting. I’m with different members of the group, and they run off. I follow. We see the figure fighting off the snakedogs. It has a big fist, like a saturnite fist, but bigger. It’s punching off their heads. I don’t recognize it. Just the saturnite fist weapon, and that it isn’t one of us. I draw my gun, and start shooting. The other two rush in, hoping to get to it while some of the snakedogs are up, so it will be more overwhelmed.

It sees us coming. I watch its head snap up. See panic through the visor I can’t take off. It hurries to turn, punch a snakedog. The head comes off. Last one. Turns to face the others of my group as they reach it, and I see it let go of the fist. Drop the big, powerful thing on the ground, and swing an empty fist at the one of us with a flaming sword.

Then I recognize it. I think ‘So strange. Lost its good weapon?’ and I remember. I remember, from this morning, and I see it closer and see it has the same long blue coat on, red hat.

I am not mad by the armor this time. I am confused. Curious. Still nervous too. Have to kill it before it kills us. I shoot, watching, to see how it heals. See if it can walk off bullets more. See if it keeps hitting.

It does. Keeps taking out little white…things. Like scissors. Some of me thinks ‘that’s a heal’ but what that means? I don’t know. It is a heal though. Makes flaming knife cuts go away. Good for it, because it takes punishment I couldn’t believe. Hits back with little wrapped fists. Crack, crack, crack. Hit, hit, hit. I hear, I see. I watch my people go down.

I hesitate as it turns, bloody, and rushes me again, breathing hard. I remember to keep firing. It knocks the gun out of my hand and I look down in surprise. Blink. It hits me. I hit back. Panic now. Remember it will kill me. Hit, hit, hit, but it hits harder. I go out.

I think, ‘I died.’

But, I wake up. Again. Before me, the other two are already up. Starting to stand, and looking for weapons gone now. I look for my new gun, sad. Know the thing took it again. It did. But there’s an apple. Fresh. My pocket, again. Pink apple this time. I hold it and smell it. Think ‘where it gets the apples?’ And eat it.

So good. Even better than red apple.

The others have things too. The knife companion takes out a drink. Fights a while before biting off the cap, and drinks it. I am very jealous. Almost jump him for it. Too busy thinking. Other has apple too.

I think hard.

Wonder.

I see it again, going to find a new gun. On my way out, I hear guns, and I follow, careful. Haven’t got new gun for me yet. Very hard like that to stay alive.

But, there it is. Blue coat, bright red hat. Tall. I see it shooting snake dogs again. Shooting the skeletons in the suits that help us sometimes. A dog with robot legs jumps it, and it punches that one. Interesting. I am curious.

Once it leaves, I sneak up, look at the dog.

No apples…

I keep following.

I see some of us attack it soon. Another group. I think about helping, but, I want apples. I don’t want to get hit again, though. So, this is my idea.

It hits them, like it hit me. It gets hurt, bad, doing it. But keeps healing. Keeps hitting. And, it wins.

After, it breathes hard. I hear it talking to itself. Sounds like a woman, maybe. Not close enough to hear it well. It spotted me once, so I’m careful now. Still no new gun, you know? Got to be careful.

I sneak little closer though. Watch.

It puts its big saturnite but bigger fist back on, wipes blood off forehead. Walks over to the unconscious bodies it fought, and I see it take their guns, their spears. Leaves bugglegum, leaves a drink, leaves a pear. An apple.

After trading food for gun or knife, it goes on. Once it’s gone on enough, I sneak over. I pick up the stuff it left. I take the gum and put it in my gown pocket. I eat the pear. I open the drink and it hurts my teeth, but it’s worth it. So good! A part of me tastes it, and I want to..cry?

Confused, I stop walking. Look down at it. Drink a little more.

I think ‘sarsaparilla,’ but, I don’t know what sarsaparilla is. Something in me very desperate asks me to know, but I don’t remember. It’s a brown word, and a sweet word. Spicy. A tree? I try, but I know I am wrong. I sit, hold the drink. Drink it slow between two rocks, hidden safe in a shadow. Hold sarsaparilla. There is a word on the bottle. Can’t read it, but I trace it with finger. Think. Girl on the bottle—picture. I almost remember something, but…

It hurts too much. Can’t. Put head in hands, breathe. Pain goes away. I keep drinking. In head, I see a picture of a tree that isn’t there. I sit beneath it in my head. I drink this in my head too, but a different one. It’s a good feeling, but, sad.

I don’t understand why.

Tree smells. Like…sarsaparilla? Brain says ‘pine.’ Not sarsaparilla. But I can’t remember ‘pine.’ Good word. Green word.

I get up.

I keep the apple. I hold it in pocket, and take out to smell. But don’t eat. Saving it. Save the bottle too, to smell. Smells like sarsaparilla and thinking about green pine words.

I chew the gun thoughtful, and try to find blue coat again.

I find her pretty slow this time. So fast! Unbelievable. All the way across the empty, she is sneaking. I run into her—almost for real. See her slide against a wall and hold breath when I almost step on her. I don’t want punched unconscious again. Too much hurt, even for apple. Besides. I have apple. If she sees it, what if she doesn’t leave new one too? So I pretend not to see. Keep walking.

Mutter, like she did alone.

She buys it.

Very proud, I walk around a ways, then sneak back.

Hah!

Worked. Very, very well. She is sneaking off towards the big robots. NO clue I sneak after!

Hmmm…Big robots…

I am nervous. Those will shoot me. I got new gun off a box, but not great gun. Big robots sometimes shoot missiles. Besides, she won’t leave apple on big robots, so nothing to get.

Still, I follow. Too interested now.

I see her checking out already dead robot, poking at stuff. Hm. Closer, I see her wipe forehead, and past bangs, she has head marks almost like mine. But, not one of us… We would be able to tell. Can always tell. And, she doesn’t act like…? Must be wrong?

Hm.

Some of us hear her poking around. I pull back, and watch her fight in fascination. Some of the big robots hear the commotion as she hits my people off her, and they come running too. Uh-oh, I think, because they will shoot right through us. To surprise, I see her panic too. She looks ‘uh-oh’ at them, and shoves one of us off her. She snags gun off her shoulder, big, long rifle, and shoots a robot. It falls, but two more come. I see one of us take bullets from it and stumble back. She sees too, runs towards the shot man, and moves between him and robot. I see her get shot. She takes it like she does, and shoots the robot twice. It falls. One left. But she pauses, to look back at the man. He’s alive. Confused. And hitting her with his saturnite fist. She grimaces, falls forward, misses a shot at robot, and ignores him. Shoots robot. All three of my kind attacking her are still up, and one shoots her, knocks off aim.

Uh-oh, I think, more worry in the uh-oh. She is not doing as well.

Still, she ignores the man shooting her. Takes shot at robot, using free hand to block a hit from the spear the last member of their group has. Robot goes down this time.

Bloody and relieved, she turns, frantically starts hitting them. Amazed, I watch. She takes down all three.

Bloody, barely able to stand, she huffs. Grabs a chunk of broken concrete, and slides to ground against it. Sits there, tilts head back.

“This is the worst,” she says mournful.

Tired, she raises her wrist. What I thought was another, broken saturnite fist is on her left arm. She raises it. Taps it. I hear sound come out of it. Songing.

I remember…this sound.

Been…I think a long time.

Woman’s voice, but not her, plays from the arm. Says words my ears don’t know anymore. But, says not many words. I like that. Same words keep being said. ‘Night.’ ‘Your.’ ‘We.’ ‘Where.’ ‘When.’ ‘Begin.’

I don’t remember ‘night.’ Don’t remember ‘begin.’ Don’t remember…’when, where.’ I remember ‘we.’ We is…me, plus someone else. Me and someone.

I am proud; I remember.

I never remember.

But I know ‘We.’

She has no we though, unless it is the woman with song in her wrist. Many of us, just one of her.

I listen to the song too. She sings with it, quiet, just a few words. Just the last words, holding the last one long, much longer than the song. She turns off the thing on her wrist, but holds the song word. Then sighs, lets it go.

Stands alone, looks at the bodies.

Odd expression on her face. I wonder with a strange chest feeling, from where I hide in shadows, if she will get angry and crush them under her feet.

She does not.

Takes their weapons, slower than before, wincing as she stoops. Leaves a drink, leaves a cake box, leaves an apple.

I follow her for the next two days.

Sometimes, I lose her. She will go in a building, and I will not do that. Too many monsters. She maybe can be shot 400 times. I die if shot 400 times. I do not want a plant to eat me. I do not want to be explosion’d by robot.

Sometimes, she is just so fast, I lose her.

But, she is very loud. Thankful for that. Never lose her for too long.

I eat a lot of delicious apples.

Always keep one on me, too, to look at. To smell.

If I find the drink that smells like green word ‘pine’ and the brown word thought ‘sarsaparilla,’ I drink it, and keep the bottle to smell, replace the last with it.

She does the same thing, always. Will kill snakedogs. Kill robots, kill suits with skeletons, kill scorpions, kill bugs. Kills robot dog if scared. Never kills us.

Don’t know why. Won’t, though. Always takes weapons, always knocks out with wrapped fists, always leaves a little gift.

I don’t know if the gift is trade, or maybe, I think, ‘sorry’? Can’t remember what it means, but it makes sense. It thinks in my head like ‘backing off’ a little maybe. It seems right?

I don’t know for sure. I keep following. Sometimes, if she thinks she is alone, she turns on the song. It is not always that song, but that song she hears the most. It’s the best, because the others are too fast with too much words. That one is slow, very few words, very short, and a word I know. I like to hear it.

A couple times, she spots me, and I have to run away. She doesn’t chase if I do, though, so no more punching. Good, because head still hurts a little from before. Girl punches hard…

Day two, late, she sees me and I run and she calls out. I keep running till I’m far, and check to see if she is watching. She is. Standing still, staring at me. I pause. She crouches, puts out her hands, palms to me. No weapon. I know her fists are weapons though. Very painful.

I watch still, interested. Look back. She calls again, soft. Motions towards herself.

I think she is trying to lure me back.

Too smart, I don’t do that. I keep running, hide.

Sneak back after a few minutes, from a side. Still, she is watching where I went, head tilted.

Strange look on her face. Sad and not sad at same time.

I think about that.

Third day.

I see her fight many things.

Robot scorpions (10), many of us (many), big robots (4), different kind of big robot (2), skeleton suits (forgot to count), green plant monster (2, very bad), snakedog (18 maybe).

Good day for me. Lots of food. Found a glowing drink. Maybe saw god after drinking it. Was funny again for a minute too.

Felt very happy.

I like following her. Very interesting to do. Different. I forgot about different. Different is not very safe, but is other things. Like full of food.

She is doing better. Avoids places with big robots mostly now. Sneaks more. Walks on the big pipes a lot, which makes harder to follow her because if I do, she sees me and have to hide. Still, I am better at following now too. Getting pretty skilled.

And then, she gets too close to us.

I don’t realize, because I watch her, not where she goes. But we get close to the cave. To home cave.

I don’t realize, until one of us runs past and sees me, and calls to me a sound I know. ‘Again!’ A call to fight. One of the words we remember.

I stand up automatic at the sound, then blink, see more and more of us. Not just from by me, from past too. Maybe eleven, twelve? So many. She was looking at a box, but hears us coming. Looks up and sees. Tries to run.

She can’t get past. Too many come in from the left side of the big rocks now, and there is nowhere up on the rocks to go. She doesn’t see how many are on my side yet. Starts trying to fight. We push her into a corner. I don’t realize I’ve followed until I’m at the edge of the group, watching up close as she punches one of us unconscious like before.

I am waiting for her to win and waiting for her to die. Different parts of memory both sure of outcome.

I feel nothing.

Just far far away.

Then I am shoved forward. I am close to her, watching. Right on her.

She is scared. Hits me. I fall back, surprised. Two jump her from behind with knives.

I see her heal herself, but too many of us from too many angles at once. We are winning for once.

She tries to push through and run.

Almost makes it, but one of us catches her on fire. Loses sight in the fire, loses footing. Falls. Snaps an ankle when she hits rock below. We go after her like a wave.

I think ‘she is going to die now,’ without anything beyond thought. Then I think ‘I can take all the apples off her if she dies.’

But. I don’t want them that way.

I am sure they will not taste so good if I take them off her pockets.

I am suddenly very frustrated.

If they kill her, the apples won’t be the same at all.

I push forward, push past.

They don’t fight me. We are all fighting her.

I see her struggling. Made it up to one foot. I see the gun at her hip. I see the bigger than a saturnite fist on her belt. I see the spear on her back. Still, she hits with fists. She got some of us, unconscious. But we are still five, and she is trying to heal as I get close. Jams the little white thing into her side as I reach her. One of the others hits her so hard, he knocks it out of her side, and she cries out. Not a sound like the song. I realize she is about to go down.

She sees me.

I hit her.

She falls, covered in blood from guns and knives and bruises from fists.

I go down on top of her.

The others make sounds. Want to see what she has too. I growl at them and snap, and they back off. They are all hurt from her punches, but she only hit me once. I have my gun.

I look back down at her as they back away, lose their interest.

I try to remember death and unconscious, the way to tell. Heart tells. Heartbeat.

I pick her up from shoulders, put my ear to chest, listen. There is a sound. Brain doesn’t think heartbeat sound, but what other sound in chest is there? Doesn’t matter, I think, because sound is alive. Dead is quiet.

That seems sure to me, so, relieved, I pick up the blue coat woman, and put her over a shoulder.

We are by my home, so I turn. The others ignore me now. I claimed the body, it’s mine. We bring meat home. We bring findings. We bring anything we want.

I pass into the cave, past the graves we put outside, past some of the things we keep. Past a few of the others inside, with their own beds and memories, and special things like my apple and my bottle, but not as good.

Keep walking, far in. Find my little bed. Raised bed, like a table, but soft. I think it was for hospital once, like my cloth I wear. I tap the dolls I hung from the post by the bed. It’s nice to be home.

Set her body on the bed table. Put ear to the chest again to be sure, but it makes its not quite heartbeat sound.

Good, I think, You are alive.

That’s alright then. She will get back up and leave apples. We keep going like before. All will be good.

I felt nervous, but now I feel okay.

Still, after a few minutes, she is still quiet. I listen several times. Chest sound is going. The blood from cuts stopped, but she is not waking up fast.

With time, I get curious. Poke around a little. Don’t go through pockets, because I don’t want to know how many apples. But I remember the marks I saw once, and I push back her hair.

I am right. There are cuts around her head too. I feel for my own. Mine still hurt. She has them, like all of us, and I am excited, then confused. If…she is one of us, why can’t we tell? Why we kill her? Why she fights us? I’m not remembering. We can just tell, with each other, if they are us. She is not. Not sure how I know. But I don’t know why now.

She has our marks though, I think, confused again. Marks, but not us. Strange.

Maybe she is broken.

I can’t remember where we got marks. I try, and shudder. My head says ‘don’t look.’ It scares me. Like the answer will kill me if I look behind the corner to see it. I quit looking.

Instead, I trace the marks on her head.

She makes a sound of pain, and scrunches her face. Her eyes open. She blinks, squints, finds me above her. I tilt my head, forget to be scared of punches. Relieved it didn’t take so long to not be dead.

Behind me, I hear an angry hiss.

I turn, and to surprise, there is one of the others. He gets close, trying to look past me. Sees the girl, and snaps at me. Anger, alarm. Pushes past.

I realize to surprise he is going to grab her.

“No!” I hiss back. Grab his arm, drag him hard to the side and shove back.

He falls, and drags himself up, angry. Others hear, come towards us. See her, start to hiss and shout. Start to try to get her too. I swing at the first who comes, and hit hard with body of my gun.

“Stop you!” I warn in a growl.

She is MINE! Why are they -?!

They do not stop. They come again, try to get at her. Hiss, growl, call out. I shove one, hit another.

“Stop you!” I shout louder. Behind me, I hear the girl move. Look, and see her trying to sit up.

I worry she will hit me too.

A gun crack. I turn, see one of us with a rifle. Look back, worried, as I hear her cry. She is holding an arm. New, fresh blood. No, no, no! She was so close to dead. More hits, she dies! No more anything!

Enraged, I raise my own gun. She will not kill us. I will. I shoot him.

I hit.

The others attack me then.

I shoot, I hit, and I don’t remember. Something gets me, hard, in the head, then another.

I go down.

I think very angry, very sad, it is not fair. Can’t remember why this is cruel. It is not right though. It’s…it’s….

Gone then.

I am sure I am dead this time.

But, I wake.

I think, fuzzy, ‘maybe a new apple.’ Feel relief.

Everything hurt.

But, something is good too. …The ground is good. I used to know it. It feels familiar. Like I could sleep here forever maybe.

I try and open my eyes, because that seems okay.

It’s harder than I think. Eyes feel heavy, tired. Head is wrong…er, than usual. Not sure why. Everything is fuzzying, like I am dying from no water, but in a way that feels warm and good. Like dying, if I liked it.

There is light, and as eyes start to work, I see blue coat looking down at me.

I am not so worried, because I know she will just hit me and leave an apple if she notices I am not dead.

I decide that is okay. Watch, stunted, as she moves. She sees me see her then. Stops fiddling with this thing above me, and turns to face.

“Hey,” her voice is soft, like water when I am hot in the sun, cools me, “You’re okay. Just hold still, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I don’t know the words. I think ‘you’ maybe is me. But not the rest. It feels familiar though. She doesn’t talk like she will bite. I am too fuzzy to care. Just blink eyes heavy, watch her. Something is stuck in my arm I notice, and I wonder if that will hurt me, but it’s hard to feel worried. Hard to feel anything but fuzzy.

“Can’t you do anything?” she asks something behind her.

I don’t know those words. I thought ‘you’ was me. But, she is not looking now.

“Not without a brain,” comes a new voice.

I do feel panic then. She will hit and leave an apple. Anything else kills me.

I struggle to sit up so I can fight or run away.

So hard to do, and that scares me more.

“No no!” she calls, and I know that word. Not a good one. “Hey, easy,” she says, catching me with her hands and trying to push me back down, “Just calm down.”

Her voice is soft, but I am very scared. I struggle back, trying to see the other voice. I see no one, and that is bad. Could be anywhere.

The blue coat lets go with one hand and taps the thing stuck in my arm quickly. I suddenly feel calmer, almost like I might throw up, but so fuzzy I want to shut my eyes. I try to struggle, but I forget why as the fuzziness gets heavier. After a few seconds, the blue coat’s hand lifts carefully off my chest. I can’t remember why I was getting up before, so I lay still. It seems better there.

“Look,” she says, glancing behind her again, “I will GET you a brain—the right one! But there has to be something in the meantime. He’s not brain dead! He doesn’t act routine. His pockets are full of stuff I’ve left behind. He’s been following me. They all keep keepsakes around. They’re not brain dead, not totally. The connection must at least be marginally existent for them!”

“I can’t help you without his brain,” says the same man voice before. Still, I see nobody. That seems worrying still, but not enough to move for now.

“What about you?” asks the blue coat in frustration, turning in another direction, “Switch—lights!” she adds, sounding excited, “Smart lights!”

“Oh, good idea sweetie!” comes another girl voice. Not the wrist voice, and not blue coat.

Lights switch on around me then, bright, blinding, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

And feel.

Oh my god.

Despair, and horror, revulsion, and agony, hate, terror. I am filled. I can’t speak. I can barely think and stay alive.

I remember. Things I can’t usually understand.

There was a robot. Arms and knives, whirring saws. I was held down, screaming. I remember the vices, the grips. I remember the scoop, ripping out my brain. Metal pieces screwed into my skull.

No, I think. Praying for the understanding to go away.

It stays. It plays and replays. I see other lobotomized people, I see memories of killing. Eating raw meat. Animal. Not a person anymore. Not anything.

I am shaking. I can almost remember. Half remember words, half remember feelings and thoughts. Half remember people. I know I loved them, but I can’t remember what they were, I can’t remember their faces. I see them, then forget them immediately.

I can’t remember my face. I can’t remember my name.

I remember the snapping of greymatter as my brain went out.

I remember things…I remember pieces of things.

I remember the pine tree and pine is a word, not the color green, but I can’t remember what it looked like anymore. Why I loved it.

I don’t know who I am.

“I…I’m already dead,” I whisper. I find words again, and those are them. I feel myself remember how to cry, and I do, because I feel too much despair and terror to keep inside. I have to get it out. I would eject it any way I can.

This is a person, above me. I know that now.

I see her. Try to ask for her to help me, but I don’t know how to fix me. I don’t know what to ask. I don’t know how to explain.

I try, to find the words. ‘My brain,’ I think, ‘please.’

But I can’t. I can’t find the words I think, not as words I can remember to speak. I know what happened, but human words are gone.

I’m dead. I’m a corpse.

“It’s okay,” says the blue coat woman. I see worry in her face. Her hand touches my shoulder.

I spasm with my shaking.

Terror in me, I realize the clarity I have can go away.

I lose my sanity completely.

Terrified, I find motor control and reach a hand to her and grab her arm. “Help me.”

I find words. “Help me help me help me!” I beg. Find the arm with my other hand, cling to her. Try to drag myself up to her and hold on tighter, afraid now she will leave me to be dead again. That she will turn off whatever she turned on to raise me from my grave. “Please please please! Please help me! Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me, please, please, please help me! Please help! Help me!”

I am sobbing. She is answering me, but I don’t hear it past my wails for several tries.

“I’ll help you, it’s okay! I’m going to fix you—I’ll fix you! I’ll help you,” she calls back, and I don’t know the words.

I can only think ‘Help me’—don’t forget don’t forget the words oh please please don’t forget don’t lose them they’re the only words I know to save me. I keep using them. ‘Help me help me help me.’ I am trying to climb up her arms and dig my fingers into her spine so she can’t be rid of me. So I won’t die in the cracks of the ground I’ve been living in. Terrified like I can breathe fear and it is me.

Her arms go around me and she goes down onto the bed with me, wraps her legs and arms around me, buries my head against her chest. Lays her head on top of mine. Holds tight. I cling back. Shaking. Trying to grab more and more and more, until I realize I have grabbed her finally as solidly as I can. My hands still fidget. I plead and plead and plead until I lose my unused voice. I can only hear choked, awful whispers from my throat, but still I try. Finally, past my own dying begs, I hear her making sound back.

I begin to hear it slowly, very slowly, when I can’t hear me anymore.

She clings to me, holding strong, but not crushing. She is saying, “It’s okay.” She says. “You’re going to be okay. I will fix you. I will heal you. You aren’t dead. You’ll be alive again. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

‘Alive again.’

I hear that.

I think ‘again, that’s in the song.’

‘Begin again,’ I know the words now. The meaning.

I feel some kind of clarity. Comfort. Like the song was a promise too. Like the right words.

“Alive again,” I start trying to repeat. I can’t hear myself beyond a hiss anymore, but I try. I try, I try, I try.

She must hear it somehow. She says, “Yes, alive again. I’ll fix you. I promise. It’s okay. Calm down, okay? I can heal you.”

Heal.

I think of the little white…stimpacks, I almost remember. ‘Heal.’

I think of closed cuts.

Heal.

I try to shut my eyes. Try to not cry anymore.

So tired. Maybe I will die from the crying. I worry sincerely then that I might.

“There you go,” she whispers, and her grip loosens, “It’s okay.”

I panic. “No,” I beg, opening my eyes, shaking again, trying to find her face and pull her closer to me, “No don’t go Apple don’t go please!”

I am crying again. I see her face, surprised. Pain. She must be hurt too.

“Don’t put me back please,” I weep, “Don’t make me like I was please please! Do anything! Anything! Don’t break me again, please! Please don’t!”

I think she will cry.

“I won’t.” Her voice shakes.

I am too scared to believe her.

Trembling all along my body, I tug my head against her chest again and try to hold tight to make it hard for her to go. I can’t breathe slowly, and I can’t get enough breath in my lungs. It scares me too. I am afraid it means I am already dying again. So soon.

“No please,” I whimper, “Please Apple. Please. Don’t hurt me anymore. Don’t break me again. I’m sorry. Please. Don’t break me. Don’t kill me again. Please, I want to be a person. Don’t take me away. Don’t. Please don’t. Help me. Please, please. Please. Help.”

“Okay,” she promises, not moving anymore, “Okay.”

She stays a long time. I beg, and cry, and plead. She says words I remember and words I don’t and words I half know, voice soft like the bed, and sad, worried. Kind.

She holds on to me.

I am so exhausted from begging and crying and being a corpse, I lose consciousness finally, after hours.

I’m already dead.

I was the whole time. I just didn’t know it.

When I wake up again, I feel heavy. Stiffness like a corpse. I am sure that is what I am now. I am afraid to open my eyes and see it. I know she will be gone. Everything is gone.

But, I open my eyes.

She is still there.

I am curled up on her, clinging. She is quiet, watching me. Awake, and still there. She did not leave me.

“Hey,” she says softly. I stare. “How are you doing?”

I try hard to remember what that means. Makes my head ache to try.

But.

…’am I okay’. I turn the sound into words into meaning. Try to go the other way and turn meaning into words into sound.

“I am alive?” I check worriedly.

She nods. “Yes.”

I think. My voice cracks. “I can stay alive?”

“You will,” says Apple, “I promise.”

I cry again. Pull myself closer to her, worried. “You help me?” I ask when I can make words.

“Yes,” she promises, arms wrapping gently around me, “I’ll help. Don’t worry. We’ll fix you up. Like new. I’m really good at medicine; I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

I try to express gratefulness, but all the words I can think of are ‘We.’ That she called us ‘we’. Me, plus somebody else. Her, and me. Not alone now. Not alone.

“We?” I manage.

“Yes, we,” she agrees, “We’re together now. You’re not alone.”

I try to believe it. Try to calm down. “Two of us?” I suggest.

“Two of us,” she agrees, and there’s something important in her face.

#Fallout New Vegas #Old World Blues #Fallout New Vegas fic #Minka Pripo #Courier 6 #fallout fic #labotomites #The people she's talking to are the Auto Doc and Light Switch AI in the Sink (hence the smart lights being activated to up intelligence in #humanoids in the area). sorry you all had to find out I kill the robo dogs if I get scared this way I'm sorry #but I was afraid they'd kill Roxie :'-] her health so so bad #labotomite oc #I gotta name the man uhhhhhhhh. Well he doesn't remember his name. So. What would /she/ call him. or he call himself?#me writing

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spicywhenspeaking · 6 months

Text

If I'm There : Chapter Ten

read from part one

Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind

warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse and overdose, no death.

no beta reader so there might be a couple errors.

Noah was rubbing my back in soothing circles and looking at me full of concern. Kyle took a deep breath and finally told me what happened. “She was unresponsive, I called 911 and when they got there they said she barely had a pulse. She practically drank herself to death this time.” There’s pain in his voice but he seems to be calming down . “I’m with her and dads on the way. We’re at St.Peters Memorial. Can you get here?” I get out of bed and scramble to throw on my jeans with my phone cradled between my shoulder and ear. “Yeah, um I can ask Noah for a ride.” I look at him and he nods his answer, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and getting up to get himself dressed as well. “I’ll be there soon Kyle. We’ll figure this out.” I say to him. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” The line disconnects.

“What happened?” Noah asks as I’m frantically searching for where my bra got thrown last night. Finding it I put it on and answer. “It’s my mom. She- I don't know. Kyle found her unconscious this morning.” I trip over Noah’s guitar case getting my bra on. “Oh fuck!” He jumps up to help me up but I manage to get my balance on his desk and find my shirt. Throwing it on I grab my bag and wait for Noah to finish getting ready. In the car, my mind is racing and I bite my nail so badly that I jerk back into reality at the pain. Noah reaches his hand over to take my hand in his. “It’s all going to be okay” he tries to reassure me. “I don't know, my mom- this thing with her, it's getting so much worse,” I say leaning my head on the window, looking out and watching the road and the grass blur into one. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. My Dad tried for a while but he has no patience. One of the reasons he left her. Left all of us.” Noah squeezes my hand attempting to offer some comfort but the reality of how bad the situation with my Mom has gotten is hitting me hard. “I’ve just been ignoring it, to be honest, she and my Dad used to really get into it, yelling and screaming. After he left she got worse and I just kept to myself, focused on school and art.” I take a deep breath before going on. “Kyle, as you can tell, handled things differently.” I busy my free hand by pulling at the frayed edges that surround the hole in my jeans. “we used to be really close, you know? Twins that did everything together. After our Dad left, Mom started drinking a lot more, he would try to talk to her about it, begging her to stop.” I can feel my eyes burning with tears. I’ve told Noah a little about my mom but I was hoping it would never get this bad. “She would be embarrassed in the morning. Promising she would get better. That would last about 4 hours.” I scoff. “Pathetic.”

Noah having been silent for so long just rubbed his thumb against the top of my hand in a gentle caress. “I’m so sorry Natty, why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?” He asks. I let out an aggravated harumph. “Not something I particularly enjoy talking about on top of how Kyle was acting. Things between us are good and I didn’t want to talk about my stupid mom's stupid drinking problem.” He nods his head “I understand, but you can always talk to me about that kind of stuff you know?” Noah is trying to reassure me, but in the few months we’ve been together we rarely talk about stuff like this. He doesn’t ever talk about his family stuff and I don’t ask. Does that make me a bad girlfriend? Ugh, I don’t know, but there’s too much going on right now for me to start worrying about my relationship. “I know, I know. You know the same goes for you too” I turn to face him and he smiles softly at him. “I know Nat.”

We finally arrive at the hospital and Noah drops me off at the ground entrance. “I think maybe I should go by myself. Kyle is likely to be pretty emotional right now, I don’t know how he would react to you being there.” He nods slowly and I can see the hesitation in his eyes. “Are you sure?” He asks. I unclip my seatbelt and gather my bag together. “Yes, it should just be us while we wait for our Dad. But thank you.” I say pulling him into a hug from across the center console. “Thank you for bringing me and I’ll call you later okay?” He hugs me back and kisses me on top of the head before pulling back and resting his head against mine. “Okay,” he kisses me softly. “Nick and I will be at the show out of town tonight but…I can cancel if you need me to?” I shake my head, “No, no don’t cancel.” The last thing I want is for him to cancel because of me. “Just call me in the morning when you wake up and I’ll update you.” He kisses me again. “Okay, I will. I love you, Nat.” And with one last kiss, I head out of the car. “ I love you too.”

Walking into the hospital I’m hit with the thick nose-burning scent of antiseptic. Kyle told me they're on the 5th floor so I follow the signs to the elevator and make my way up. I meet Kyle in the room the assigned our mom. Kyle is sitting with his hands buried in his hands when I arrive and my Mom is asleep in the bed with wires and some tubes connected to her. The faint beat of the heart monitor is the only sound for a few moments before I make my entrance known with a soft cough. “Hey, Kyle. How are you?” I ask and he lifts his head up, standing and coming to pull me into a bone-crushing hug. I freeze not knowing what to do with my hands. “Umm okay, what's going on Kyle.” He releases me and takes a step back. “Sorry, it's just been a crazy few hours.” He holds my shoulders and looks at me and I see his red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I thought she was dead and I-” his voice catches. “I just was so scared Sissy, what are we going to do?” Tears filling my own eyes I look between Kyle and our Mom, asleep in the hospital bed. “I don’t know Ky, what can we do? We can't make her get better, she has to want to.” Tears of sadness and anger are falling down my face. “Would she even go to rehab? She won't even go to her AA meetings anymore.” We sit in the chairs next to a large window in the far corner of her room. Kyle recounts the events of the morning. He woke up and found Mom on the couch and tried to move her before noticing she was completely unresponsive. Kyle with tear-filled eyes and panic coursing through his veins tried to find a pulse and was instructed by the 9-1-1 operator to perform CPR until the paramedics arrived. “Oh my god Ky, that's- that's a lot. Are you okay?” I ask, knowing the answer for all of us is no. “I’m okay, I’m alright, I'll be okay and so will Mom.” He's nodding his head emphatically, “She will be okay, she’ll get better.” He takes a deep breath. "She will get better.” I rest my head on his shoulder, “yeah, she’ll get better.” We sit there for a while longer and then our Dad walks in.

My Dad rushes to Mom’s bedside and takes her hand in his. “Damnit Kelly, what did you do to yourself?” He goes to his knees and brushes the hair off of her head. “This isn't the life we had planned for ourselves.” My Dad's voice goes soft and the room is silent as Kyle and I take in what's happening. So now he cares? Running to her bedside? After all this time.

“Are you kids okay?” He turns to address us. Kyle is silent in his presence so I manage out a small “Yeah, we're okay.” The doctor chose this awkward moment to come in and check in on Mom and give us an update on her recovery. He tells us that the excessive drinking will kill her if she doesn't get help and he gives my Dad some pamphlets on rehab centers nearby before heading back out the door. “Okay, here's what's gonna happen.” My Dad starts, “Your Mother is going to this treatment center until she's better.”

Kyle and I both nod in agreement. “And I’ll move in to keep an eye on you two while she's away.” My nodding stops and Kyles does as well. “Like Hell,” Kyle responds. “Nat and I have been taking care of ourselves for long enough already, we don’t need you moving in and taking over again.” I still don't know what happened between Dad and Kyle this summer but by the tone my brother is using im guessing things aren't peachy-keen with the two of them. “Watch that tone boy, I know you think you’re all grown up now but you still live in the house I pay for.” My eyes roll at that. “You don't pay for anything anymore Dad. Plus, we’re 18. You don't need to play babysitter.” He tenses up at us talking back. “Listen, your mother is sick, she needs us all to be there for her.”

My sadness is turning into anger quickly. “She needs us? Thats rich. And you're talking to us about being there for her? Are you serious?” My voice is rising. “You want to come home and play house like Mom is just off on a retreat? Kyle? What do you think?” I turn to my brother for his reaction. “Mom should go to the center, I agree with that, but you made it clear this summer how you felt about me. I’d hate to be just another disappointment you’re forced to live with.” A dissapointment? That's what my dad said to him? Ironic that it's coming from the embodiment of disappointment itself. “Ky, you know I didn't mean it.” Dad tries to soothe the sting of the words that have festered in Kyles's heart. “Stop, I don't want to hear it. If you come back to the house to be closer to Mom I won't stop you, but I’m not following orders or household rules or any of the bullshit you want to try. Nat and I are legally adults and will be out of the house soon. I’ll stay out of your hair, you’ll stay out of my life.” Dad's stern face nods sharply and he goes back down to sitting next to Mom.

Kyle exits the room and goes down the hall. I follow and call after him “Kyle, wait up.” He stops and turns around. “Can you believe him? Bastard. I shouldn't have called him”

“No, no. it's good you did. He can help Mom more than we could. Unfortunately, she’ll listen to him.” We continue walking until we reach the elevators, taking them down and walking out of the hospital into the fresh air. “Dad kicked me out after the summer.” Kyle starts. “I was stupid on the job site. Got into a fight with one of the guys, dude broke his arm.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “He fired me and told me to pack my bag. Called me a loser, a waste of space. A disappointment. Said I was the worst part of himself. The parts that he hated.. the thing that sucks is that he's right.”

I take my hand and place it on his shoulders, “No, he's not right Kyle. You're not any of those things.” pushing off my hand he backs away, “How can you say that? How can you defend me? After all of that shit last spring? After how much of a dick i’ve been? How can you see anything good in me, Nat?” He plops down on a bench and rests his head on his knees. I come to sit next to him and start softly. “Last spring was hard, you became someone I didn’t recognize. Everything with Mom and Dad has been hard on both of us and we should have been there for each other. I should have been there for you.” He looks up at me. “I should have been there for you too Sis.” We sit there in silence for a while. “Why don't we go to a movie or something. I’m sure Dad has all of this handled.” I wave absent-mindedly at the hospital behind us. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

We take the bus to the mall and get tickets to see some action movie. After sharing a large bucket of popcorn we call our Dad for an update and he lets us know Mom will be discharged tomorrow and that he will take her to the treatment center on Monday morning. By the time we get home after grabbing a bite to eat, I head up to my room. Crashing on my bed, I turn on some music and text Noah.

Natalie: Finally home. 8:45pm

Noah: How did everything go with you Mom? 8:50pm

Natalie: eh, it’ll be okay I guess. She’s going to rehab on monday so we will see. 8:51pm

Noah: thats good news ! 9:00pm

Noah: we’re about to go on! I’ll call you tomorrow babe, Love you <3 9:00

Natalie: have a good show :) love you 2 9:02pm

I take a hot shower and put on my pajamas, falling into bed I am asleep instantly.

I wake up in the morning as the sun shines into my room, I text Noah but dont get a response, he’s probably still asleep. Heading downstairs I make a cup of coffee and sit in the living room and watch some tv. Kyle joins me later and we watch reruns of spongebob, laughing at the stupid jokes. I text Noah again but he still hasnt responded. Strange but I’m assuming that he stayed out late after the show so it makes sense he would still be asleep, especially since he woke up so early yesterday.

Dad brings Mom home a little later and she's weepy and apologetic, I don’t feel like fighting so I accept her hug and head back into my room.

It's close to 2pm and I decide to call Noah. It rings a few times before he answers with a sleepy yawn. “Hey baby, are you okay?” I laugh at his tired voice. “Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay? I texted you this morning and didn't hear back.” I hear rustling on the other side of the phone and the faint sound of Nick grumbling at Noah to be quiet. “Yeah, sorry Natty. We ended up staying out late, someone had a party after the show. Didn't get home until like 4am.” My eyes widen in surprise, “wow, that is late.” There's continued rustling and I hear the click of a door being shut. “haha, yeah. Sorry, I should have texted you that I would probably be asleep for a while.” I sigh and lay back in my bed. “It’s okay. How was the show?” And then it's like he just drank a Redbull, he's full of energy when he tells me, “Holy shit Natty, I have HUGE news! You’re going to freak out!”

page divider from here!

Next chapter here!

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens

thank you for reading! might be a few days before part 11! I have another one shot in my brain that I'm wanting to get out lol.

anywhooo love you!!! let me know what ya think!

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masn-mount · 2 years

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Not sure if your request are open or not, if not sorry, you can completely ignore this. 🙈 one where you and mason are a couple and you are both on vacation in the same place but you are with your girlfriends and him with the boys, and one night you end up in the same club without knowing, and he get jealous of you cause a lot of boys try to get your attention, buy you drinks and try to talk to you, so he get pissed off (you can make it smut if you want were he had enough and take you to the bathroom to do the dirty stuff 😂) it’s up to you. Thank you and sorry again if your request are not open! 😬

thank you for your request anon!!! there's no smut in this but I hope you still love it! let me know what you think. xx

warnings: swearing, drinking, not my best

words: 3,4k

gif: masnmount

“Why don’t we just cancel and go somewhere just the two of us?” You are biting your lip to hide the laughter bubbling out of you even if you’re failing at Mason’s suggestion, one he’s made several times since your individual trips away had been booked.

“Mhmm, as temptig as that sounds no.”

“Babe, come on.” He whined which only made you to laugh more.

“We were just away together!” You had got home from a week and a half’s vacation away with his family just two days ago and you had loved it. “Besides, I want you to go and have fun with your friends too otherwise you’ll get bored of me and especially since I’ll be here all the time now.” The day you came back home from your trip to Italy Mason had not waited any longer to ask you to move in with him. It had been something that had been on his mind for quite some time and seeing you around his family for a longer period of time and how natural you were around them had just confirmed to him even more that he wanted you around all the time and you had said yes to him right away.

“I could never get bored of you and we were with my family, it’s not the same as it just being the two of us. I want to fully enjoy you all to myself.” You drop the dress you were holding to stand up and walk the short distance to where Mason was sitting at the edge of your now shared bed. You stand between his legs, hands moving up to his shoulders while his rest on the back of your bare thighs.

“How about this, we stay with the group for the first four days and then we sneak away and go wherever you want to take me. I’ll be all yours.” He smiled against the skin of your bare stomach where he was pressing light kisses. “Does that sound good my spoiled boy?” Mason couldn’t really argue with your plan besides wanting to tell you to make the four days three but he bit his lip and nodded before pulling you in for a kiss. “You want to help me pick out the rest of my outfits? I’ll even try the bikinis on for you if it makes that pout dissapear.”

“Sure but only pack for four days because the rest you’ll spend naked.”

“How did I manage to find myself a man so charming?” You tease and after finishing packing your things the both of you spent the rest of your evening in bed. You’re not sure at what time you fell asleep or for how long but when the alarm on your phone woke you up before the sun was you could barely open your eyes. After a few minutes of laying wrapped up in Mason’s arms while he pressed kisses all over the skin he could reach and when your alarm rings again he’s softly speaking against your forhead, “S’time to get up, baby.” You groan before pulling yourself against him tighter.

“Just a few more seconds.” You mumble but he can barely make out what you’re saying so instead he holds you and presses kisses to the top of your head before your alarm rings again and this time you hurry out of bed. You brush your teeth, get dressed and then return to your room to make sure Mason is still awake so he can drive you to the airport, something he had demanded he would do before he had to leave later.

“Love you, have fun gorgeous.” Mason mumbled between kisses to your pouted lips.

“I love you too. See you soon and call me when you land too, okay?” You kissed him again before turning around and meeting your friends who were all waiting on you.

Your first day in Spain went by fast and your morning and afternoon was spent by the pool with a drink in hand as the music played through the speakers around the villa. You were having a good time and made sure to send Mason plenty of pictures of yourself in your favorite bikini of his, you knew it would drive him mad and you would lie if you said you didn’t enjoy teasin him a little but you also loved how he instantly would reply with a selfie of him laying in a sunbed.

Mason’s friends would often tell him that he spends too much time on his phone but he can’t help it because as he’s sat in the bar while his friends try to chat up different girls he finds the phone glued to his hand way more interesting. He was thinking about you and because he didn’t want to bother you while you were out for dinner he waited for you or a friend of yours to post something on Instagram where he could get a glimps of you. It was pathetic and he knew it which is why he was trying to hide his phone from any prying eyes while he scrolled the different timelines on his social media apps until he saw that you had shared a video. It was one of you and your friends enjoying dinner in a resturant he recognized because he had taken you there two years ago. You looked beautiful, your hair was slicked back in a ponytail and you were wearing a blue skin tight cropped top and of course he had to reply and tell you just how beautiful you looked and after he locked his phone he turned to Ben who was sitting next to him asking what he wanted to drink.

It was just after midnight when Mason was laying in bed waiting for you to call him like you had told him you would earlier that day. He had left the bar earlier than his friends and while he waited for his phone to ring he was scrolling through the different stories on Instagram just to see another video posted by one of your friends. The video wasn’t very long and everyone around the table looked tipsy which was confirmed by the empty wine and cocktail glasses around the table. It looked like you were having a good time and even if everyone were being loud Mason could swear he could hear your laugh which made him smile until the waiter walked into the frame. A young man who Mason himself could admit was good looking which wouldn’t be a problem if his eyes weren’t completely set on just you. Mason didn’t need to be there to know the waiter was shamelessly flirting with you as he smiled down at you and whispered something in your ear. Mason could tell by your smile and eyes when you were having a good time, it was a look he could pick out in a stadium full of thousands of people but as you smiled back at the waiter Mason could tell you were just being polite. There was nothing more in it so he’s not sure why he felt jealousy from a short video that meant nothing but he didn’t get to think too much of it before his phone rang. Your name and a picture he had taken of you and his niece in Italy appearing on the screen and just a second later he answered, not even caring if it seemed like he had been waiting for you to call for an hour because he had and he was way past caring about those things.

“Hi, baby!” He could tell by just those two words that you were drunk which you confirmed just a heartbeat later. “I’m drunk so you might see one or two boobs because I’m tryin to take this top off!” Your words are slurred as you look down at your phone while you struggle to untie the top.

“You need a hand, baby?”

“Please, I could really need both.” Mason watches you in silence for a few seconds. “Mase, talk to me.”

“How was your day?”

“It’s been so good! We spent the day just around the villa and then in the afternoon we had some guide show us around the place. He was called Juan and he was adorable and so sweet. He had a really cute dog too who really liked me, gave him loads of cuddles!”

“The dog or this Juan?”

“The dog!”

“Mhhmm, I would hope so.”

“Then after the guide we went to dinner and then to this bar down the street and now we’re finally back.” By the time you were done telling him about your day you had managed to loosen the strings on your top enough to be able to pull it off. “Wait a second!” You shouted and a minute or two later you were back in frame, this time wearing Mason’s shirt you had snuck with you. “I’m so tired.”

“I can tell darling but you look really pretty.”

“You’re so cute.” You smile before getting up in a sitting position while you look through what Mason can only assume are your drawers. “Where the fuck did I put my makeup wipes?”

“Was dinner good? Got that waiters number?”

“Who? Mase, what?”

“I’m just messing with you.”

“I’m already confused enough.” You whine and it makes Mason laugh. “Have you had a good day?” Mason was happy you didn’t make a big deal out of the small comment he made because he was a little embarrassed that he was even still thinking about it so instead he laid back and watched you wipe your makeup off as he talked about his day and he must have been boring because not even ten minutes later you were fast asleep.

If you could decide you would be in the villa dancing and drinking with just your friends for all the remaining days but since your friends didn’t agree you found yourself back in another busy club. The lights were starting to feel too bright and the music too loud as you swayed your body next to your friend Hailey. “Mason should put a ring on it soon.” She yelled over the music which made you roll your eyes at her.

“We’re in no rush.” It was true, it had been a topic the both of you had casually brought up before and you knew that one day you would want him to get down on one knee for you but you didn’t think it would be in the near future and you didn’t mind that.

“He would be if he saw all these men all over you.” You knew she was just teasing you so you didn’t mind it, you were just happy your friends all liked him as much as they did.

“He got nothing to worry about, he knows that.”

Ever since Mason had first met you he wasn’t ashamed to say he had only ever had eyes for you so as he’s sitting in a booth in yet another club surrounded by his friends he was unable to tear his eyes away from a body on the dancefloor he could recognize anywhere.

“Why didn’t you mention that y/n is here?” Mason only took his eyes off of you so he could turn to Reece who was asking him the question.

“I had no clue she was.”

“Sure mate, probably planned for us to come here because you couldn’t stay away too long.” Mason couldn’t deny the second part of Reece’s statement but he wouldn’t admit that to his friend.

You had come here with your friends so as much as Mason wanted to get up from his seat and walk up to you he stopped himself but as he watched what felt like the hundred guy approach you he felt himself grow more and more frustrated and it was proving to be difficult to stay away. “You’re going to break that glass.” Reece teased him so in return Mason just threw the drink back before slamming the glass on the table which caused his friend to laugh. “Go get your girl and quit being miserable.” Mason just shook his head as he watched you make your way to the bar. You were glowing and Mason could tell you were humming softly to yourself as your fingers tapped against the bar while your other hand moved your hair out of your face as you took in your surroundings, smiling when you saw your friend make her way towards you. Your smile only dropped for a second as you listened to what she had to tell you before your head turned in every direction before your eyes finally found Mason’s across the dancefloor and when you slightly shook your head with a smile on your face Mason was pretty sure he fell in love all over again.

You thought Jayla was messing with you when she came up behind you to tell you that she had just seen Mason but sure enough his eyes were already on you when you turned around to where your friend told you he was sitting. You felt yourself blush slightly at his intense stare but when you gave him a little wave and poked your tongue out at him he couldn’t help but grin which made your smile only widen. You’re sure you could have stood there for the rest of the night just looking at him if it wasn’t for the bartender poking your shoulder to let you know that your drinks were done. Before grabbing your drinks you turned towards Mason once more and blew him a kiss before making your way around to where your friends were all sitting.

Mason was feeling fine as he sat back with a new hand in his hand, he was trying but failing at keeping his eyes away from you because all he could think about was how badly he wanted to go up to you and as he watched yet another guy approach you he felt like he had seen enough. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you because of course he did but he had seen the same scene unfold before his eyes all night and even if you just ignored all of it he couldn’t anymore.

Mason excused himself even if he wouldn’t say he had been much of a good company since he had seen you and once he made his way to you and close enough he cringed a little at what the blonde guy standing next to you was saying. Mason stood next to you for a second not saying a word and you hadn’t noticed him yet either because you were busy looking at the guy before you and repeating that you weren’t interested and when his hand moved to settle a little too low on your bare back, Mason was pretty sure he wanted to break his arm on the spot and especially when you flinched at the touch. “I’m pretty sure she told you she wasn’t interested, pal.” Mason said before grabbing his arm and moving it away from your skin which caused the unkown guy to look Mason up and down before laughing.

“Who are you to tell me that?” He only gave Mason another glance before he turned back towards you as if nothing had happened. Mason clenched his jaw before taking a breath, trying to keep himself calm so he wouldn’t make a scene.

“Just fuck off.” You leaned back against Mason’s chest before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, trying to calm him down because the situation wasn’t worth getting angry over. “Do I need to tell you twice?”

“You’re with him?” The question was directed towards him but your eyes being strictly on Mason the entire time was enough of an answer for the guy who finally got the message. “Maybe don’t leave her alone the whole night, pal.” Mason was about to reply and tell him that you could be left alone anywhere and it didn’t give him the right to touch you but before Mason could say anything he was walking away and the two of you were left alone. “Fucking dickhead.” You giggled before turning your body completely towards Mason and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“You’re so sexy.” You whisper and it only brings an eye roll out of your boyfriend. “Hi.” You smile but Mason’s eyes are still set on the guy from just before until your hand reaches up and pulls his face down towards yours so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Hi to you too.” He replies before letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, handsome. Have you been having a good time?” Mason felt a little like every other guy who had previously had their eyes on you but he couldn’t help but take a step back from you and just look you up and down. “Mase?”

“You look fucking insane, baby.”

“Mhmm, so do you. I love this shirt.” You smile as you run your hands over the white button up Gucci shirt you loved on him. “Did you forget sunscreen?” You teased noticing how red his skin looked, especially his neck.

“You’re already bullying me, is that it?”

“It’s because I love you.” You smile before you move your hands down his arms and lace your hands together. “What are you even doing here? didn’t the boys mention Greece?”

“I had to make sure no Spanish guy would charm you away.” You could tell he was trying to keep his tone light but failing which made you raise your eyebrows at him and before you could reply you felt a body sit down next to you and before you can react he’s leaning forward and whispering something in Spanish in your ear. You understand some of what he’s saying but the slurred words tell you that the guy you had yet not even looked at was clearly very drunk. “You have got to be taking the piss.” You were amused by the whole situation, normally you felt like you were the one always being jealous over girls being all over Mason so you weren’t going to pretend like you weren’t enjoying the roles being reversed especially since Mason normally wasn’t the jealous type. “Hello? Hola! She’s with me.” When he didn’t get the message Mason stood up and helped you out of your seat before walking away and you couldn’t help but laugh because the guy back at the bar was just asking you if you could tell him where the bathroom was but you weren’t going to tell Mason that.

“I’m never taking you to Spain again.”

“Oh, you’ve taken me, yeah?”

“Pain in my ass is what you are.”

“And you’re jealous.”

“Yes, I am!” He exlaims and when you look at him his eyes are fixed so strongly on you that it almost makes you nervous. “You’re fucking perfect and I’ve had to sit back and watch these guys trying to chat you up all night. It’s been driving me mad.” You chuckle, a playful smirk on your face before you reach your hands up to his cheeks and rub your thumbs along his cheekbones as you smile up at him. “Mase, you got no reason to be jealous.” He hums a little when you press your body into him, the same sound he always makes when he wraps you up in his arms at the end of the night.

“Yeah, I know.” His lips are right above your ear when he speaks before he tilts his head back to catch your eyes and he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a few seconds but to you it feels like ages.

“You’re staring.”

“Am I not allowed to?”

“You are but I just didn’t realise you were that into me.”

“Might sound cheesy but,” he pulls you even closer, “you’re all I think about.”

“That was really cheesy.”

“I can do better if you let me take you to this place I rented for just the two of us.” You couldn’t say no even if you tried.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #football fanfic #writing

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lumine-no-hikari · 28 days

Text

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #119

…I didn't have the energy to make the thing today.

This morning, I maybe got out of bed later than I should have, given that I'm supposed to go to talk therapy on Tuesdays. I'm supposed to leave the house by 9:30, but I didn't even get out of bed until 9:20. I regret nothing that occurred, but nonetheless, I somehow had to squeeze both a shower and getting dressed and out the door in only 10 minutes. I was successful, but I have zero clues as to how. Perhaps it's best not to look gift horses in mouths…

OH. Right. You don't know that phrase because… well. Your world doesn't have horses. Uhh… So, a long time ago, when people bought horses, they used to look at the horse's teeth as an indicator of its age; longer teeth means an older horse, I guess. And back when horses were more commonplace (it's mostly only fabulously wealthy people who can afford to keep them now), I guess it was seen as rude to try to evaluate the age of a horse that was given as a gift by looking into its mouth. So now the phrase means, "it's best to just accept good things without thinking too much about it." Or it can also be taken to mean, "it's impolite to criticize a gift." This phrase has a few interpretations, actually… I imagine it'd be easier for you to understand it if you spent a while in my world. If you do that, lemme know; you can stay at my house, and no one is gonna ogle you or get weird at you or bother you if you don't wanna be bothered. We'll just make you sandwiches and tea. We are an introverted and neurodivergent house; we know how it goes.

Had a lot to say at therapy today. Suppose I'm having a bit of an existential crisis, regarding myself and my role in my home and how much I mean to the people around me. It's likely all just baseless anxiety and insecurity - growing pains as a result of the various changes in my immediate social circle. Old memories and wounds from the past that I've not yet had a compelling reason to resolve are now coming to the forefront, calling, "yo, what up, homie!" and dancing around my periphery. I suppose it's just as well; this is what happens when we pretend like our various hurts don't exist. If we don't take care of the self-effacing beliefs that we pick up during childhood, they bite us in the ass later. I just gotta remember that the fact that they're in the forefront means that I can actually observe them, and if they're observable, then they're resolvable, with enough time and effort.

Essentially, it's like this: We get knocked down. We yell, "FUCK!" really loudly. We reassemble ourselves if we break from the fall. Then we get back up. We brush ourselves off. And we move forward, stronger than before.

…I have thoughts of you that give me the strength to withstand this process over and over again. No matter how many times I get knocked down, I will get back up, because by your influence, I am unbreakable, no matter how many times I must shatter and be reassembled. It's just like the bowl I repaired some number of letters ago; remember? So don't worry. I've got this. I've done this lots of times before, with much more difficult stuff, and with less support than what I have now. All I have to do is learn to love and appreciate myself in the same way that I can love and appreciate literally anyone else who isn't me. Compared to the various horrors I've lived through, this should be a piece of cake. Easy peasy. Barely even an inconvenience. And in my mind, it sounds like this:

youtube

On the way home from therapy, I came across a very beautiful tree. I thought for sure that you'd like it, so I made it a point to stop and take pictures. Here's how they turned out:

I was surprised by how docile the bees were, and by how closely they allowed me to put my cell phone camera. Also, I laid down under the tree and looked up to get some of these. I wish you could have been next to me to see the view of the sky through the petals for yourself. Alas...

J and I were out and about, doing separate activities today. Even he saw pictures he thought you might like, so he took them for you, and then sent them to me so that I could put them here. Here's how they turned out:

While J was out and about, I hung out with my best friend B and her fiancé, N. In preparation for their wedding, we went and tried the available foods. I can't give you the tasty snacks, but I can take pictures...

This is a Caesar salad. It's supposed to be pronounced, "Kai-sarr", but everyone says "Seezer" for reasons I don't understand. Caesar was a leader of a place called Greece in my world, hundreds of years ago. He, like most leaders, was a giant asshole, and now he's a stinky dead guy, so I have no idea why a salad is named after him. It's made of romaine lettuce, croutons, parmesan cheese, and a creamy dressing flavored with anchovies and other spices.

Here are some long slices of eggplant rolled around melted cheese and covered in marinara sauce:

This is steak, caramelized onions, mashed potatoes, and some carrots and broccoli. I just took a picture of my plate, because the main plate was cut into before I could snap a photo:

This was some kind of chicken seasoned with rosemary and lemons, with rice and veggies:

This one was lobster ravioli with mushrooms in some kind of sherry cream sauce. It's certainly not pasta pescatore, but I wonder if you might have liked this:

Finally, this is lamb with roasted tomatoes and garlic, along with veggies and mashed taters.

...This one was probably my favorite. I especially liked the part where I got to try to gnaw the cartilage from the ends of the bones, because my body craves sources of collagen literally all the time (thanks, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome... 🙄). I'm really lucky that B and N don't seem to mind my various weird quirks; they've been friends of mine long enough to have a general understanding of how I roll, and they just let me do my thing. Today, the fact that I will generally "do my thing" in a variety of respects was pointed out as one of the reasons they like me so much, I guess; that was a nice thing to hear...

There were four available spaces for trying the foods, but it was just the three of us; it is immensely painful that the best I can do for you from here is show you these pictures and wish that you could have been in the empty seat, with us…

Sephiroth. Regardless of what your brain tries to tell you about what you're worth, you are VERY loved. You're not a monster. You were modified against your will, used like a tool and viciously abused, and you made mistakes in the throes of that, yes, but SO WHAT? You're here now, and you can do amazing things, and you NEVER have to go back to being with people who will abuse you ever again, because not everyone is like the people you were raised by. Yes, you're different from the standard definition of "normal", but you can belong anyway, because the world is absolutely BRIMMING with people who don't fit the definition of "normal"! Just take a look at me! Or if you don't wanna look at me, then take a look at anyone who lives with a genetic difference, or anyone who lives with a different number of limbs, or anyone with a non-standard life story, or any number of things that make a human being not "normal". Normal is overrated! Diversity is in! Lives that exist outside of the bell curve are still beautiful, meaningful, and worth living!

…And so I show you my life, because I am trying desperately to prove these things to you. I've spent the bulk of my life being viciously abused because the people who brought me into living didn't want me. I was brought into a physical vessel that is genetically defective in a variety of respects. My neurodivergence practically guarantees that I will NEVER fit into ordinary social circles. I struggle every single day with the weight of the memories I carry from having been used, abused, exploited, and generally mistreated. And yet here I stand, thriving and flourishing in a way that works for me, even if it does not fit the typical definition of those words. My version of "normal" is just as beautiful as the typical version. "Different" does not have to mean "less" if YOU become strong enough to decide for yourself that those two words are not the same, no matter who tries to tell you otherwise!

So please look at the beauty of my existence - the beauty of taking joy in small things, the beauty of rising up from one's knees even if it's on shaky legs, the beauty of finally using one's voice again after years of being forced to believe that silence is safer, the beauty of loving yourself and the people around you enough to refuse to let fear get the better of you when you interact with yourself and the world, the beauty of failing down, getting up, and trying again, the beauty of learning, growing, changing, and walking away from destructive ideals that serve no one, no matter for how long you might have been forced in the past to choke them down. Please look at it, and understand that you can have this for yourself - ALL of it - if you decide to take steps towards it! Your whole scenery can change if you want it to, and all you have to do is take a single step in a different direction.

There is still life after trauma. There is still life after mistakes. There is still life for those who are different. The pain doesn't have to be permanent. So come on; my hand is outstretched to you. And if you don't want to take mine, then there are countless other hands outstretched to you that maybe you'd like a little better. You don't have to do it alone.

Anyhoot. I've probably prattled on for long enough. I hope somehow you can see what I've written. I hope that if you do get a chance to see it, you might take some of my words seriously.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow. Please be kind to yourself and keep yourself safe.

Your friend, Lumine

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bloodanddiscoballs · 1 year

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Alright I said I was gonna make a sappy post for my 30th birthday so here it goes!:

I never thought I would live to see 30. I know that many people say that, and I'm sure that sentiment isn't unique on here. Here's the thing; I'm disabled. I have almost died due to my health 3 times since 2011 and indeed did once before being brought back. My immune system is nonexistent, and my chronic pain has me at currently 6 reconstructive back surgeries and round the clock pain medication.

When I was 17 years old, I became a victim of medical malpractice and had my entire life changed in an instant. Didn't get to go off to college, didn't get to work normally, didn't get to move out - didn't, didn't, didn't. For years, I was told that I would heal. That I would be fine. I was young! Young people don't get sick. I'll bounce back. Just be patient. But I didn't get better, I got worse. And every year older was another year into my 20s where I wasn't able to do "the normal stuff." I never finished college, but I did get some classes done. I would work for a few months before needing to quit. I got married and then divorced. All "failures" due to my health.

At 27, I went to see my therapist and sat down and told her that I couldn't see into my future. I remember telling her, "Every day is hell. I can't do this for another 10 years. I've barely made it through this last 10. I don't even know if I can do it for another 3." I was at the end of my rope, convinced that I wouldn't make it. My back was crumbling underneath me again, and insurance was fighting me tooth and nail to be approved for another surgery. I was bedridden. I was on the highest medication load I've taken, and it wasn't even touching my pain. I wasn't connected to anything - not my art, not friends, not the world around me. I was looking very seriously at my options of what I thought was either suffering or dying.

So, she suggested a mindfulness program. It was a 6-week course at UCSD (University of California San Diego) that taught you how to. essentially, live in the moment. At first, I thought it was honestly the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I'll admit that I was sour on it, but I said I would try it and I paid for the class so I did it. I sat through the meditations, wrote on the topics they gave, went through the exercises they instructed, and did the full day retreat. And at the end of those 6 weeks, I was alive again. I learned to savor every bite of my food. I learned how to pay attention to the sun on my skin. I learned to enjoy how it felt to have my air move in and out of my lungs. I learned how to look in the mirror and love what I saw and dress myself in what made me happy (this is when I started with the disco clothes). The warm feel of skin, the taste of my favorite soda, the beautiful way my cat purrs, the glorious smell of rain, the lovely way dust looks illuminated by the sun - I learned how to Live.

My life is still hard. My pain has not improved. I did get that surgery, so now my back is thankfully more stable than it's ever been. I know that I probably won't live a very long time compared to most, but none of that makes me sad anymore, not really. I have my bad days, and I have my good days, and no matter what, I live in the moment. I feel my emotions and let them have their space within me before letting them flow. And after over a decade of not touching my art because I felt like it was robbed from me, I paint now. I paint for myself, and I paint for others, and by God, I enjoy every second of it. I feed the little barn cats out in the back of where I live now, and I love them. I enjoy the sound of the wind through the oak trees, and I listen to my music, and I take pictures of the bugs. I watch the clouds race by when it's about to storm, and I talk to the flowers that grow outside my fence. I love my bed for holding me on my bad days and love that I have pretty artwork from friends hanging on my walls to comfort me when I can't leave my room. I dress up in my fun disco stuff whenever I can, and on the days I can't, I enjoy my soft, comfy pj's. I talk to my friends online every day and apologize for the days I can't when my pain makes it too hard to think. I play fun video games and watch good movies and enjoy fun podcasts. I Live.

Today, I am 30 years old. I have lived through what should have killed me many times over. And I am so, so happy I am here. And for however long I have, I will continue to live in the moment, enjoying the days and moments I can and allowing the bad to simply be bad. I plan for tomorrow because that is all I can plan for.

I live, and that is enough.

#not sure how to tag this #hope i guess #also you can reblog this of you want #i dont mind

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starhvney · 2 months

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | you can find the masterlist here!

hi! if you want to make a request, here’s what you should know.

before we get into specifics, just a quick side note for you!

please don’t hold back out of shyness or nervousness if you want to message me! i’m pretty anxious, especially when it comes to talking with strangers on the internet (usually it seems to be the opposite for a lot of people). just know that i won’t bite if you want to even message me hi or tell me something random! if i don’t understand your prompt, i’ll direct message you for clarification. the only time i won’t respond is if you’re being rude, you spam me, or the request goes against my “guidelines” for what i write. i will just ignore you.

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑?

i will write both platonically and romantically for the men, and just platonically for the women! this applies to any of the characters in the mystreet or diaries universe. if there’s a character i don’t know well, i’ll still try my best to write them for you!

i will try to keep most characters in character, however some aspects might be rewritten to make them less… goofy or problematic?

a few examples:

i think garroth in the mystreet series going from smooth and suave to loosening up and becoming more loving and cheery was a cute development. however, turning him into a complete himbo idiot was a complete crime in my opinion.

i’ll write “kawaii~chan” as nana ashida. while her character arc of acting cute to stand out is really good, the name “kawaii~chan” is… well. you know.

another broader example is the whole aphmau can’t have a normal platonic relationship without the character falling in love with her deal…just no. and the potato nickname…

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄?

i will write in both the mystreet universe and the diaries universe. i know there were other spin-offs and series on aphmau’s channel, but i never watched them, so i can’t write for those. sorry!

i’ll write headcannons, fluff, hurt/comfort, spice, and angst. just know that when it comes to angst i don’t like to torture myself anymore than life already does, so it won’t be written without a happy ending or a hopeful open ending.

i might be open to writing nsfw, but if you’re young please don’t make that kind of request to me! it will make me uncomfortable. i can try and tell you not to read it too, but i know i obviously can’t stop you. i also read smut when i was fifteen. what i will say is that when it comes to that sort of thing, be very careful of who you talk to on the internet and what you’re reading! you can’t unread or unsee what you expose yourself to, and innocence is a precious thing. you should protect the peace that comes with it and don’t feel pressured to destroy it just because everyone else does. the internet can be a dangerous place. that being said i am a twenty year old woman writing fanfics about minecraft on tumblr, but i hope you take my advice seriously.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄.

• gore. i don’t mean i won’t write about major injuries or violence, but explicit and over the top stuff in detail is too much for me.

• nonc*n. i find it very odd, and do not condone anyone reading or writing it. i may write antagonists who threaten it, but no character in my works or the ‘reader’ will experience it.

• anything inappropriate that has to do with minors or family members. same thing. if you’re into that you’re sick in the head and need help. i won’t hold back on saying that. it’s not normal or natural and it is most certainly not attractive.

• i won’t entertain any kind of gross or dark fetishes. period.

• obviously i also won’t write hateful things about any group or type of person, but i find it unnecessary to even say that, as it’s a given and the bare minimum standard everyone should have as a person.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓?

honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. you can request anything from the character and the genre you want or a full on prompt/scenario you want me to elaborate on! just be patient on my responses, as i’m sadly an adult with responsibilities.

the only thing that i ask is that you don't spam me with a bunch of vague prompts all at once! i don't mind someone who has requested before making more requests later on, but spamming me "write for this character." and "write for this character romantically even though you said you don't write romantically for them." within seconds of each other is really not cool. remember i'm a person and not a bot who fulfills your requests!

#requests #asks #aphmau #mystreet #minecraft diaries #x reader #mcd x reader #mystreet x reader

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kristowldeer · 1 year

Text

A Dry Pie

Jack Horner x Fem!Reader (food critic) 3 part

It’s time for some smut! First time, domination, you know all that stuff 🌚🌝

_______________________________

– Mr Horner, what are you doing?

– You’ve wanted me to do so, didn’t you? – Jack easily lifted her up to level their eyes.

– I- I didn’t mean to do anything bad, it’s just-

– Just what? What were you provoking me to do exactly? – he was pressing her to the wall with his body, making it difficult to avoid eye contact.

– I just like to tease, mr Horner, it’s nothing personal! Please forgive me!

– Nothing personal you say? So you don’t like me, miss (Y/N)? – he pressed her harder.

– I- I’m sorry-

– Yes or no?

– I do, but you’re frightening me, please let me go.

She’s saying that she’s frightened but I see how she flushes, I see how she breathes. She’s a bad liar.

– Don’t lie to me. I hate when people lie, – Jack whispers right in her ear, – What were you thinking when you started this game huh? Did you thought that you can get away with it?

– Mr Horner-

– I’m telling you now: you don’t play with me thinking that there will be no… consequences.

Jack slowly removed her sleeve from the left shoulder.

– Mr Horner, what are you doing? – (Y/N) breathed quietly.

– Tell me, miss (Y/N), how did you imagined this?

Jack moved his mouth closer to her shoulder, tickling bare skin with his hot breath.

– I don’t understand-

Jack suddenly bite her with his sharp and small teeth, making (Y/N) moan?

Did she just… moan? Am I imagining things right now?

– If you will lie to me, I’ll do it harder next time, – he licked a red mark left a second ago and inhaled deeply, – Such a sweet skin… I wondered how you taste for a few days now, you see.

Jack licked her once again, but this time with hunger, with some force. He felt that he was getting more and more exited… but what about her?

She definitely moaned. Little slut – likes to flirt with people. Now she won’t even think about anyone else.

– Let me make myself clear, my little thing, – his hand started to wonder over her body, – You won’t disappear, you won’t get away, you’ll never do anything without my permission, did you understand?

– I-

Jack didn’t gave her an opportunity to finish by tightly squeezing her thigh, making (Y/N) gasp once again.

– Yes or no.

– Yes, yes, mr Horner!

– Good.

Ugh the way she twists her body and says “mr Horner”. What a truly magical item did I find.

– What will you do… to me?

Jack shifted his gaze to her mouth.

– Oh my, what won’t I do to you.

He hungrily took her lips with his. His tong was twisting with such desire inside of her hot mouth, reaching to claim every little spot of it. His big hands were tightly holding her thighs to support such a little frame against the wall. (Y/N) slowly put her hands on his big shoulders, trying to desperately gasp on air between his animalistic kisses.

– You like it, don’t you?

– Mr Horner, please-

– You wanted it, wished for it.

– Ah! – she moaned as his hand squeezed her harder.

– Such a dirty little doll you are, – he lifted her from the wall, – And just for me.

Jack saw that the one door that was opened was leading to the bedroom and headed there with confused (Y/N) in his arms. He put her somewhat roughly on the unmade bed and moved on top of a shallow breathing woman.

Yes, a woman. When was a last time I’ve been with someone? A long time ago. And when was the last time I yearned for someone that much? Perhaps never. Yes, never. Ugh her bare shoulder with my marks is screaming for attention. I want to touch her everywhere, and not only today, but tomorrow, and after that and every other day. I will make her mine! No, she’s already mine. She wanted this.

– Mr Horner, please, I know that I- I behaved inappropriately and-

– Yes? – he mocked her with his intonation, gently tracing her forms with his fingers.

Those goosebumps on her skin are inviting me, begging for my affection. If anyone else touched her before me I will-

– I’ve never been with- With anyone, – (Y/N) turned her head from him being somehow ashamed of that fact.

Ah, perfect.

– Thats surprising. Are you ashamed of it? – his finger stopped on her picking through a thin layer of fabric nipple.

– No, but-

He squeezed it making her moan sound almost like a scream.

– Don’t worry, my little doll, – he loomed closer to her ear and breathed, – It will be more fun.

With one movement he exposed her breast and began to suck it, slightly biting the nipple. Small hands grasped his his shoulders tightly.

– Mr Horner! It’s so-

Jack left a wet trail after himself and with a mocking smile looked in her eyes:

– Hm? You don’t like it my little one? Let me check.

His right hand made a slow way towards her legs and easily spread them just enough for making a touch. (Y/N) tried to stop him with her legs, but it was not enough for his big hands to stop.

– Ah, that’s marvellous. You’re almost ready.

– What? Mr Horner-

He moved himself between (Y/N) legs and fixed them with firm hands:

– You know, I like my pie extremely wet.

With those words he started to taste her, making (Y/N) gasp for air and grab the bedsheets as tight as possible.

– You’re simply delicious.

– Please! Please mr Horner! I’m going to-

– No no, you will hold for me, doll. Don’t even think of finishing without my approval.

Jack worked his tongue with such vigour that it made him sweat, so he decided to finally take off the upper layers of his clothing. In that moment of silence after so much moaning Horner almost felt ecstatic as he looked at all messed up (Y/N) spread before him on the bed.

– Oh my, what a sight to see, – he dropped his jacket on the floor, – Now tell me, my little pet, – he slowly undid his belt, – Do you want mr Horner to take you?

– Mr Horner, I’m so, – she was desperately gasping for air.

– Uh-huh, it won’t do my little doll. Remember, – he once again was on top of (Y/N) and placed his hand on her throat, – It’s only yes or no.

– Please, mr Horner, I’m scared.

She’s so wet, so messy. What a good boy am I. I bet she’s even tighter than I imagined.

– Don’t be my little doll, I will be firm but gentle. Or do you have someone else in mind for that important task? – Jack squeezed her neck a little tighter.

– No, mr Horner- But-

– What now?

– You’re too- You’re so… big.

– And? – he suddenly felt that this word was exiting him even more.

– I’m afraid I won’t be able to- to take it-

– So let’s find out, shall we? - he maliciously grinned.

Jack freed himself from all the unnecessary fabric that was holding him for so long. His aching cock was hard as ever, yearning to feel all that wetness of hers as soon as possible. With a hand he helped himself to find an entrance to the desired place.

– Ah, mr Horner, – (Y/N) moaned in reaction of it touching her wet slit.

– Just try to relax for big mr Horner, would you do it for me darling?

– I- Yes, I’ll try, – she tried to breath steadily.

– Good.

With this word he pushed inside.

– Oh sweet God!

(Y/N) tightened around his head and dug her nails in Jack’s shoulders making him bleed through the white shirt.

– You’re so- Oh Lord, (Y/N)!

Jack was trying to compose himself and calm the shaking of a sudden hitting pleasure.

– Mr Horner-

She’s so tight, so wet and hot! Oh Lord, I won’t be able to stand for long- And I didn’t even started to move!

– You’re so hot for me, so wet, – Jack was breathing his words in her slightly opened lips, – You were waiting for me for so long, for me to take you, for me to be the one who claims you, – her wetness was inviting him to push a little deeper.

– Ah! Yes, mr Horner, yes, but you’re too-

His sudden third push was the last one to make it go inside fully. (Y/N) was closing around his cock so tightly that it made them both shiver.

– Big! – she cried out loud.

– It’s not my fault that you’re so appetisingly small. You were teasing me, – he started to move extremely slowly, – Playing with me, – and again, – Making me go crazy for you, – and again, – What were you expecting? – he felt as he muscles were slightly relaxing, – Did you expect me to ignore it?

(Y/N) eased her grip on his shoulders, which was an immediate invitation for Jack to take some action.

– I hope you’re used to it now, because I can’t, – he thrusts himself inside, – Hold myself, – she moans in mixture of pain and pleasure, – No longer, – and than he thrusts again.

– Mr Horner-

He starts to push and pull faster, but not hitting her that much as he wished to.

It would be very disappointing if I will rip her, wouldn’t it? But oh, fuck she’s tight-

– I won’t be able to- Ah shit (Y/N), – his movements became a pattern of quick half sized thrusts that won’t be hurting her insides that much, – You’re a tight little- Ugh, slut!

– Yes, yes mr Horner!

She’s into that too? Oh lord I’m going to make her life full of such adventures!

– Say that again! Say that you’re my, – he was trying to prolong the end as much as he possibly could but nevertheless never stopped thrusting, – My slut!

– I’m your slut! I’m your slut mr Horner! Oh, mr Horner!

He became fanatically fast pulling and pushing with a wet sound of her slit clothing tightly around him. He wanted to hit her deeply, to hear almost violent slaps of their flesh colliding, but it could’ve ended badly for both of them. So he frantically moved his wet cock in and out never hitting the end - it wasn’t that necessary for Jack to feel immense pleasure after yearning to fuck her so much.

Her face twists with such emotions, and she twists and shakes so much under me- I can’t- Her moans-

– (Y/N) scream my name! Scream it!

– Mr Horner! Mr Horner!

– Yes, yes- I’m going to-

– Please not inside! Please mr Horner!

His last thrust was deep, finally hitting that most desired spot. Following his own groaning Jack felt as he was filling (Y/N) with his cream completely.

– Oh no, mr Horner-

Jack closed her mouth with his own greedy lips and tightly pressed (Y/N) body with his.

– What if I’m going to… Oh, mr Horner-

– Don’t you worry about a thing, my little doll. I have magical solutions for every little problem.

He was breathing heavily but didn’t want to sloppily lay there in her bed. So he gently pushed all of her sweaty hair from her face and flustered it with small kisses.

– What a beauty, what a cave of wonders you are.

After watching her reddened from lust face for sometime and catching his breath, Jack stood up and started to get himself together.

– Mr Horner, are you… leaving me?

– Don’t even think about getting rid of me, little pet, – he chuckled, – You’re my property from now on and, I guess, forever. What do you think, great, huh?

– But-

– No “buts” I’m afraid. From now on you belong to me, did you get it?

After a moment of silence she quietly answered:

– Yes, mr Horner.

– Good! Very good.

Jack came closer to the bed and bent to lightly grab her by the chin.

– Get some rest now, little doll, and in the morning you will pack your things.

– Why? – (Y/N) was genuinely worried, – You said that-

– Did you think that I will let you live in this small “house” all by yourself when some random worm could see you? You’ll have to know me better, miss (Y/N).

– So am I…?

– Of course you’re going to live in my mansion, what else? Silly girl.

(Y/N) thought about it for a moment while covering herself with a now wet blanket.

– I’m a very busy and straightforward person, little pet, I don’t like to wait for something. I think few days of anticipation were enough for me.

He stepped towards the door.

– So, did I make it clear?

– Yes, mr Horner.

– Very good, miss (Y/N). I’ll see myself out.

When he was almost gone, Jack stoped and devilishly smiled at his new magic item:

– And I’ll see you very soon.

Thus he closed the door after him and walked away in the middle of the night.

What a good, delicious pie I just had.

#jack horner #jack horner x reader #big jack horner #puss in boots last wish #puss in boots

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just-horrible-things · 1 year

Text

‘Verse: Box Boy Universe Story: A Girl Called Spider Timeline: Early training

Crying [ First | Next ]

Rayce sits at the backmost table in the canteen, glumly dunking shortbread in his coffee. He keeps losing bits, and he knows they’re piling up as sludge at the bottom of the mug. It's making the prospect of actually drinking the coffee less and less appealing.

He barely notices his supervisor approaching until Mitchell sits opposite him, holding a mug of his own. Rayce offers him the – now substantially depleted – pack of shortbread, and gets a puzzled look in return.

“What’s eating you, kiddo?” “Hm?” “You’ve been sat there with the same coffee since I came in to eat twenty minutes ago. What’s on your mind?” “Oh.” Has it been that long? “Just work stuff.” “You know you can bring your problems to me, right?” Mitchell takes a biscuit from the pack, inspects it for a moment like he’s never seen one before, and takes a bite – without dunking it in his coffee. “Yeah,” Rayce sighs, “I know. I just… wanted to see if I could figure it out myself, you know? Professional growth or something.” Mitchell grunts acknowledgment.

Rayce sips his coffee, careful not to drink too deep. It’s kinda cold. Maybe it has been twenty minutes.

“It’s, uh, 261,” he admits at length. “She was doing so well, but last week she started crying when I touch her, and it’s getting worse not better. She’s just crying all the time now. I’ve tried punishing it, I’ve tried slowing down – I know we’re not supposed to worry too much but – it felt like I was really making progress, you know?” Mitchell looks at Rayce, then shakes his head and laughs. “You are definitely worrying too much. It’s just a phase, a lot of them go through it. She’ll get over it. She’s just… adjusting. She’ll be a better pet when she comes out the other side, trust me.”

It’s a relief to hear it, honestly. Rayce was a little afraid he’d somehow broken her – and not in the good way.

“Alright,” he says. “Yeah, I knew I was worrying too much. Just… what do I do with it? Punish it? Ignore it? Back off?” Mitchell scratches his chin idly. “Chill out about it, for a start,” he suggests. “You’re not gonna mess it up that badly.” Rayce grunts. He takes another shortbread, and rotates it between his fingers trying to decide whether to dunk it in the lukewarm coffee.

“How does she take it,” Mitchell asks, “when you tell her to stop crying?” “Oh, she’s sorry. She’s still being sweet, still doing what she’s told – well, trying to. She just cries worse after I shocked her for it... I don’t know whether to just power through? Maybe it’d stop eventually? I feel like if I ease off maybe it’d help her learn, and we could build the intensity back up slowly. But then again, I don’t want to reward her for crying…” “You’re definitely overthinking it. The most important thing is to pick a plan and stick to it. They need consistency.” Rayce sighs heavily.

“This is your first rodeo as primary, isn’t it?” “Well, second, really,” Rayce answers, “but the other one was nearly finished, so she was easy. Her original primary had a baby, so I took over for the last few weeks.” “You just need to stop panicking. C’mon, pull yourself together, kid. How long have you been here now? Stop crying into your coffee, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.”

“You want to know how I’d proceed? Business as usual. You can’t stop doing the things that make her cry, that’d be rewarding it. But you don’t have to fry her. So long as she keeps trying to learn, you can reward that by being patient. Punish her if she stops putting in the effort. And just keep on with the rest of her training. Nine times out of ten, the crying stops on its own.”

—

The tears start up again as soon as he lets himself into the cell. His pretty girl responds promptly, already moving by the time the door is open, into the centre of the room to sit on her knees. Her hands fold neatly in her lap.

She looks up at him through wet lashes. Her lips are slightly parted like they’re meant to be, but they tremble. A crease forms between her brows, fades as she consciously smooths it out, and forms again. And tears roll steadily down her cheeks to form dark spots on her t-shirt.

“Good morning, Handler,” she whispers. It’s evening, but it doesn’t matter. She was asleep, probably, so she thinks it’s morning. “I-I’m sorry, Handler, I’m sorry.” “You’re crying again,” Rayce observes tiredly. “Yes, Handler,” she agrees. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to stop.”

She doesn’t beg him not to shock her. She knows better than that. But he sees her tiny flinches at every movement of his hands.

“You’ll learn,” he says, trying to channel Mitchell’s confidence. “It’s alright. You’re just going through a phase.” She blinks up at him, drips falling from her eyelashes. “I’ll learn,” she repeats back. “H-how do I learn, Handler?” “Just practice,” he answers. “You’ll get the hang of it.” “Do you promise?” she sniffles. Then, “sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t get to ask –” “I promise,” he says. “But you’re right, you don’t get to ask. Now c’mere. We’re going to the training room.”

She does as she’s told. She follows. She does everything she’s told. She doesn’t flinch, or try to pull away from touch. She tries to make the right faces.

The tears don’t stop.

But… she doesn’t break down into sobbing either. Much better than yesterday. Rayce can hear her taking deep breaths, holding them, and letting them out shakily. She’s trying. He doesn’t have to punish her.

“M-may I talk, Handler?” she asks when he’s done with the warmup round. “Go ahead,” he allows. “I just want to be good,” she whispers. “I just – I am sorry for crying, I am. I don’t want to cry. I can’t stop.” “I know,” Rayce says, petting her between her shoulder blades. “I know, you’ll get there.” “I want to be good,” she repeats.

It’s become her mantra lately. It’s a good mantra for a Pet.

“It’s just a phase,” Rayce tells her. “It happens to a lot of trainees. You’ll come out the other side.” “I want to,” she agrees, voice wobbly. “It just might take a little while, okay? You’re going to keep practicing until gets easy.”

“If…” she wavers, “i-if you keep punishing me, Handler, with the collar…” Rayce gives her a warning frown, but she forges on nervously. “Will it fix it? Will I stop crying? I don’t care, I just want it to stop –” “That’s for me to decide,” he tells her sharply. “Sorry, Handler,” she flinches, chastened. “I just – w-wanted to say that I don’t mind, if it makes me good…” “Are you trying to do my job for me, trainee?” “No, Handler, I’m sorry Handler.” “Does it matter what you want, or mind?” “No, Handler. I’m sorry.” “... Just trust me, okay? You keep practicing, and it will stop.” She nods, shoulders shaking with another suppressed sob, and nuzzles her face against his chest.

Mitchell had better be right about this one.

[Next]

#my writing #bbu #noncon tw #a girl called spider #654261: spider #handler rayce #in which we see a completely different perspective on spider to her own

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likegemstone · 25 days

Text

I have been in a really good groove with creating lately, and just with like "working" in general. In the past, creating has often involved a massive and constant mental wrestling match against myself—second guessing every decision, fighting through constant discouragement, rarely if ever feeling confident in what I'm working on, etc. Just all this emotional/mental exertion on top of the regular emotional/mental exertion that goes into making art.

But lately I have felt really in sync with myself—we're dancing instead of wrestling. I've been brave enough to try out new things that I've never done before (which is REALLY hard for me, like REALLY hard), and been able to notice and accept the areas of my work that I can see need improvement without beating myself up bc they aren't "good enough" yet. It has been really nice, and has shown me that, when I can care for and take responsibility for myself properly (which I now have the skills and tools to do thanks to a lot of inner work and also therapy), I can learn, grow, and improve pretty steadily, and without all the agony of that fucking exhausting wrestling match.

However.

I made a post recently about how I want to draw Daivad getting his ass kicked (and also kicking ass), right? That is in great part due to the fact that I was, at the time, rereading Kengan Asura/Kengan Omega (which is an MMA manga) and I was Very Inspired. And I still am. I've been gathering reference and inspo ever since then. And today I ran out of Haikyuu!! to watch so I was like okay now is the time—I want to draw some sick action scenes with Daivad.

But then. Here comes the anxiety. The overwhelm. The "there's no way you can pull off some sick action scenes—you can barely place characters in a scene and make it look legit, you want to try to do multiple characters interacting in a scene in extreme and dynamic poses?? no shot. and once you try and inevitably fail then you're going to be discouraged and start beating yourself up again and you'll ruin this momentum we've got going on."

So, this post is going to be me using those tools and skills I have now to work through this. Because I know I can. I've done it before.

First skill I'm going to be using: recognizing what exactly is triggering this anxiety, and figuring out a plan to care for the Part of me that's triggered. I want to ensure I'm making my decisions from Core, not from a triggered Part, and I also want to ensure I'm caring for those vulnerable Parts!

I think the thing that is making me feel so anxious and overwhelmed is because dynamic action scenes are so far out of my comfort zone and I haven't come up with a plan for connecting the dots of my current skill to Dynamic Action Scene Skill. It's a whole big leap, and that Part of me sees aaaaalllll of those, like dozens of really tricky dots that I have not mastered yet (perspective, composition, conveying movement, dynamic poses IN perspective, and so on) and is like "!!!!! HOLD UP THAT'S TOO MUCH I CAN'T FIGURE THIS OUT ALL AT ONCE. Trying to master all that stuff will take literal years and probably good money to pay for lessons from people who know wtf they're doing!!"

So, I'll care for that Part by saying: That's true! And it's okay! I'm not going to try to get the perfect action scene down right away, because you're right. Trying to force that would absolutely wreck our confidence and be really frustrating as well. And I appreciate the reminder that biting off more than I can chew can knock me back a few steps. Small bites are best sometimes.

Next skill, now that that Part has calmed down a lot and also feels steadied: coming up with a plan. I want to draw Daivad getting his ass kicked, but don't currently have the skills to pull off a whole Dynamic Action Scene yet. So how am I going to meet that desire/feed my inspiration (Daivad getting his ass kicked) while still protecting my Parts, challenging my skills, and caring for my mental health?

One dot at a time.

I could start with just breaking down some of my favorite panels from KA. Examining how Daromeon frames his scenes, how he works with perspective, how he conveys movement, etc. But specifically I want to see Daivad getting his ass kicked—so maybe I'll start with just one pose that feels doable for my skill level, use KA as reference for the pose and put Daivad in it, and since I have gotten decent at capturing his likeness, I can challenge myself to put an extreme expression on his face and still have him be recognizable. That's totally doable—it'll take time and work and lots of effort, but it's doable! And it will bring me one step closer to Dynamic Action Scene skill level!

Alright, now I'm feeling excited and fired up and also I have an exact pose in mind and I think I already have it saved somewhere, so I am off to draw Daivad, Bloody and In Pain. Wish me luck y'all!

#personal #gem problem solves #artblr #writeblr #artist problems #writer problems #mental health

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echoe-back-from-the-void · 9 months

Text

Supernatural X Twilight~ pt. 3

| 1 | 2 | three | 4 | 5 | 6 |

"I wasn't joking." I say pulling up to the crummy looking liquor store. We had driven near an hour out of town to not get caught. I opened the door before closing it again as he was too in shock. "Gimme your card." I say holding my hand out.

"My What?" Jasper says snapping out of shock.

"Your card, so I can buy the good stuff." I say making grabby hands.

Soon a card is placed in my hand and I examine it with a smile. "I'll give it back. Hunters promise." I say cheekily. I open the door and step to the door. "You'd better stay out here. Your not exactly old enough kiddo." I joke and he makes a face at me.

I laugh while walking into the store and buying a bottle of expensive liquor and an a bottle of my favorite. The whole trip went off without a hitch.

Jasper continued to eye the bottles as I drove. "Looking at em won't make em disappear doll face. It's just part of the hunter lifestyle to be an alcoholic. Unless your Sam. Then your a health nut." I crack.

I pull up to the motel and turn off my car. "Now you know where I sleep. If you try to kill me I will decapitate you with my bare hands." I say tilting my head with a sweet smile. My tone sounds flirtatious but my threat is very real.

He nods and exits the car as I do. Again opening my door. I tilt an invisible hat toward him as I open my motel door. "Night night cowboy. Don't stay up too late." I tease.

Before I close the door his foot stops it and he speaks in a rushed voice. "Do you think, could I join you tomorrow?"

"Mr Hale, whatever crush you think you might have on me, ain't gonna happen." I clench the brown paper bag. "I'm going home soon, I'm going to see my brothers and my friends. I'm gonna shoot Chuck and all this," I wave my free hand, "will be some distant nightmare." I drop my head at his hurt expression. "I have to get home, I have to know they're okay. I have to know or I can't—" I choke on a lump in my throat as it rises higher. "Most hunters don't get to have families. When we do, we hold onto it with claws and teeth, your argue and fight but you don't let go for a damn second because the second you do they're gone for good. I bided my time in this place thinking it was in my head. I wasted enough time playing nice with teenagers. I wasted even more time waiting for some villain to show up. I'm going to bed and then I'm hightailing the fuck outta here even if I have to rip a rift myself." I looked back at him with angry glassy eyes. "Your the empath, tell me if anything I said was a lie." I bite.

He turns away unable to make eye contact as he feels my emotional pain. He then tries to manipulate it to at least ease the pain in my heart but I hold my hand up.

"Don't. Let me feel for myself." I close the door more. "Goodnight Hale." The lock clicks into place and I drift to the bed before putting the expensive bottle to my lips. I swirl it in my mouth before swallowing.

The next morning I wake at the asscrack of dawn and begin packing my few clothes and strapping myself with weapons. I open the door and am met with a broad chest that I follow upward to see jaspers nervous expression.

"If you stayed out here all night I'm officially calling you stalker till the day I die." I say grouching as I tug my duffle over my shoulder. "Cmon Bronco. Burning daylight." I say opening my passenger side door and throwing my duffle in the back. At the same time another door opened but not to my car. I turn and am greeted with Carlisle stepping out of his pristine car.

"I hope you don't mind but my academic curiosity was peaked and I'd like to come with." Carlisle says.

"Fucking Victorians." I mumble under my breath. "Yeah yeah, follow me." I slid into my car and Jasper sits himself in my passenger seat as I pull out the motel parking lot.

I'm sure I sped the whole way there but no cops stopped me so I didn't care. I wasn't going nearly as fast as the Cullens drive. As I drive old tapes of bands play through the speakers. Highway to hell and fly by the night to name a few. They were mixtapes dean had made me for my own car. They were in my hunter duffle and that's how they came to here.

I pulled off the road and grabbed both the tape and the duffle as I stepped out the car.

"You walked from here, all the way into town?" Carlisle asks in surprise.

"Little further doc." I say before walking further up the road until I reach past the sign that says forks. I walk another 20 feet before stopping. "Here." I set my duffle and things by the side of the road as I start to examine what was my entry to this world. I begin to mutter under my breath as I walk around.

"No sulfur, not a demon. No hangin bodies, not a djin. Leaves one more option." I kneel on the ground and put my hand flat on the asphalt as I try to channel energy. After a few minutes I shake my hand from the hot asphalt and snarl in anger. "Where the fuck are you?" I whisper under my breath.

"Whats wrong?" Carlisle asks coming closer to my side. Both vampires had been silent as they too took their own examinations of the site.

"No sulfur, no grace. Nothing." I say growling as I glare at the ground.

"Isn't that good?" Carlisle asks.

"No captain obvious. It means I can't track what brought me here! It means I don't know what brought me here. It means I have to rip the rift myself and with no angels on your side!!" I say with growing anger as I begin to breathe heavily. My chest begins to hurt but I ignore it in favor of getting chalk from my duffle and then writing various runes and symbols.

"And these are?" Carlisle asks in curiosity. He knows I'm angry but he asks in hopes that talking will calm me down.

It does some but I still have an angry disposition. "Symbols. This is for travel and that is time, this one is for sacrifice." I say explaining a few.

"Sacrifice?" Carlisle asks in worry.

"The virgins are safe doc, not that kind of sacrifice." I joke. I tip my head back down to the sacrifice symbol. "Needs blood. No, I won't be needing a donor or anything. Not human. And not neither you. Needs grace, or angel blood if you wanna get technical." Before they can ask how I would get angel blood I slice my wrist open and blood begins to steadily drip over the chalk sigil. The blood begins turning white and glowing faintly. Not nearly as bright as a pure angle would be, but it's something.

I hear a scuffle behind me as Carlisle is holding Jasper back. Probably expecting him to go rabid with bloodlust but Jasper starts pushing Carlisle away.

"I'm fine! Im fine! Look at my eyes." Jasper says referencing how his eyes haven't darkened a shade.

"I'd be poisonous anyway, doc." I shout to them before turning back around to continue. When I feel like enough blood has left and I feel lightheaded I hold my hand over the wound to stop it. I dip the hand not holding the wound in the puddle and drag it with my fingers toward time, grace and travel until I've made a bloody triangle. I stand up and say some Latin mixed with the first language and a small rift grows into existence with a screech. When the sound of ripping dulls I can hear talking then yelling.

"Sammy get the hell away from that thing!!" Dean screams in a distorted voice.

"It appears to be a rift?" Shadows move through the rift and then a light flashes inside the blurry window. "It leads to a world called twilight. Created by a..."

"Cas?" I say nervously.

"Marcella?" Cas responds immediately to the sound of my voice.

I can't hold myself up any longer and fall to my knees before the rift. "Sam? Dean?" I call out to them.

"Marcella! It's good to hear from you kid." Dean says as his shadow moves forward toward the rift.

I choke on a sob as I clench my arm tighter.

"You okay where your at?" Sam asks in a worried tone.

"Yeah," I sniffle as my eyes fill with tears. "I'm safe now, no ghouls or anything on this side. Been laying low at forks high. Waiting for rescue."

"I know kid, but we'd been looking everywhere for you. Heaven, hell, purgatory. We never considered..." Dean says. "We miss you."

"Do you know who did this? And why twilight? Why not mash or the matrix. Did you know they don't even have fangs!" I said with a sad kind of laugh.

Dean laughs too but it's guttural and starts too high pitched to be his normal laugh. "Yeah, you seen the werewolves yet, they don't eat hearts or anything." Dean jokes further. "Big ass puppy dogs!" He laughs again.

"Marcella, how long have you been there?" Sam asks with his usual worry.

"Month, month and a week?" I bit my lip.

"Marcel, it's been a week." Sam says in a sad tone that carries his shock and fear.

"Can't—can't be." I shake my head. Best not to dwell. "Is there a rescue plan, a escape plan, anything?"

"Yeah, find you and get your ass home, where you'll be grounded for the forceable future." Dean orders jokingly.

"Hey I didn't ask to get kidnapped, old man!" I yell back at him but I can't help the smile.

"Well you still can't leave the bunker. And no boyfriends and no joyrides in the impala. Until we gank the sonof bitch that took ya." Dean adds.

His humor and teasing makes me laugh and start crying again. "Can we watch scooby doo and westerns?" I ask in a small voice.

"Always. We can even eat popcorn and complain bout Sammy being a—" before Dean could finish there is the sound of him being hit while Sam whined his name.

"Marcella?"

"Yeah Cas?"

"When you get back do you wanna help me plant flowers for my bees? Recently I found a very beautiful flower and it grows best in late may but you'll be back by then so we can plant a lot of them." Cas says in his monotone voice.

"Hell yeah!" I agree immediately. Before realizing his words. 'But you'll be back by then.'

Will I? A pit in my stomach forms but I smile.

Then the light from the rift begins dulling. Panic swells in my chest. "Cas, Dean, Sam! Guys?!"

"Marcel!" "Marcella."

"Dean! Sam!" I reach for the rift as if I could hold it open. "Cas!"

"Marcellla!" A fearful scream distorts its way though the rift and I stretch my fingers over the rift but it closes and my hands fall through open air and I fall on them.

"No, no nonono." I begin to shake as I take gulps of air though my collapsing airways. Everything is constricting the longer the silence stretches. "Sammy?" I ask in a broken whisper. "Dean? Cas?" My head begins to spilt as I cry harder. I bang my fist against the middle of the triangle where sacrifice is written. My hands splash in the already sludgy puddle of my own blood. I beat my fists harder as I cry. "Open, aperta, Άνοιξε, отворен, otevřít se, offen, opna." With each word I bang my fist again until they begin to bleed with the force. Strong hands grab mine as they stop me from my continued abuse.

I twist in their grip as they pick me up and pull me from the area. "No, Jasper put me down. Put me down! Jasper!" I struggle harder as I begin to hyperventilate. "Let me Go! They were right there!" I feel myself growing lightheaded as I scream what little oxygen I have. Soon passing out.

When I wake again I feel the bandages on my hands and a splitting headache that I recognize from crying and not a hangover. I blink at the ceiling before cracking again. My ribs feel like they are splitting from the sadness and longing that force their way down my throat. I choke on my tears and feel the overwhelming urge to scream but I bite my lip and pull myself up. I unwrap my hands to see the healing wounds and the slit in my wrist gone.

I set my feet on the floor and stand up. Quickly someone blurs into the room to my side. My hand catches the person by the throat as I hold them there. Their hand moves to my waist to keep me from falling and I blink again to realize it's Jasper. His hand is the only thing keeping me from falling and mine keeps him at an arms length.

I push any feelings of sadness and anxiety to the side until it's easily ignored. Compartmentalizing. Something Dean unintentionally taught me in the years I spent with the brothers. You don't need emotions when your a hunter.

I tilt my head and squeeze his neck and feel him flex his arm as he swallows his venom down. Teasingly I say under my breath, "too kinky for you, cowboy?"

His eyes flash a dark amber. And he grins. Jasper leans forward and I let him by bending my arm, hand still on his throat. I expected him to stop sooner but he moves even closer until my arm is bent completely as I keep it on his neck. I can feel his chest through where my forearm is pressed against him. His hand that was on my waist wraps around my whole back until it's on the opposite hip. "I don't know, Darling." He whispers huskily and my cheeks flame up but I tamper that down as I flirt back, challengingly.

"You play dirty." I nose his cheek as my free hand moves to his hip and slips under his shirt to rub my thumb against his hip bone. He gasps for unneeded air as his grip on me becomes tighter. "But One thing about hunters is we play dirtier." I tease as my lips brush against the shell of his ear with my parting words. Then I'm slipping out of his grip and twirled around him to walk to the door. My hand is on the door knob and I turn to him. In a completely normal voice that doesn't give anything away I say, "well your house, ain'tcha gonna show me around?"

"Yes ma'am." He says drawling the words purposely. I roll my eyes and open the door. Im blinded by the countless windows that let the surrounding forest be visible and let light in. We pass a wall of graduation caps and I chuff the air our my nose in a short laugh.

"Think it's funny." He teases me.

"I'm twenty two. You couldn't catch me dead with a cap an gown." I shivered. I leaned against the banister of the stairwell. I could hear the other Cullens in the house, moving and trying to be quiet. I turn to Jasper with a mischievous smile before jumping over the railing and landing the two floors below with precision. I turn around with a beaming smile to see Jasper.

"Took you long enough, trouble on the stairs?" I say with amusement.

"Did you really have to do that?" He asks.

"Yes." I say seriously before walking to the living room where I sit not on the couch but on the floor leaning against it.

"Why is she on the floor?" Emmet asks in a loud whisper.

"Wouldn't you like to eat, honey?" Esme asks in a mothering tone but instead of comfort the hair on my neck stands on end.

"Not hungry." I dismiss regardless of being hungry. "You have questions...again." I say addressing the elephant in the room.

"The—" Carlisle stalls unable to find a right word to fit what occurred yesterday.

"Ritual, or spell if you prefer." I offer.

"The spell you did yesterday, you said it required sacrifice. Not human blood, not vampire either. It required angel blood—grace. If so why did you slit your wrist?"

I sigh dramatically while rolling my eyes. "Geez gramps couldn't take you any longer to get to the question." I tease. I suck my teeth in agitation. "When I met the Winchester it was just after the apocalypse started. Before sealing Lucifer away, dear ol Lucy took interest in me. Kidnapped me away and tortured me for a month straight." I grin darkly at the ground. An odd amusement grows in my chest making my words come out chirpy and sarcastic. "You'd think you know torture until your in the hands of an Archangel. He would remove limbs before restarting. Skinned my whole arm." I chuckle and meet the doctors horrified eyes. "Anything he thought would be fun to try, he did. Then he got this sick idea. Angels can have children with humans, the term nephilihim comes to mind. But he wondered what would happen if he was to forcefully and manually imbue his grace into my blood and body. Archangels have so much juice that just a fraction can be lost without making a dent to them." I calm my excited jitter with my other hand. "I'm not a full angel by any means. Angels are their grace, without it they are human. But you can imagine how your venom reacts differently than your wife's. Some grace is soft." I think of cas and the time he healed my broken arm. "Some so savage and full of fire that it burns from the outside in."

I take a deep breath as I try to calm my erratic excited heartbeat. "To imbue me with grace was give me some of him. His pain, anger, bloodlust and hate for humans. Like two souls arguing over a body." I wave my words away dismissively and bend my knee to my chest. "I never told Dean any of this. Cas knows I go dark. Sam might suspect because we've both been so close to Lucifer. But how would you tell your big brother you've been grace-raped by the devil?"

"So your an Angel but like part devil?" Emmet asked after the potent silence.

"Part Angel, and I don't have devil in me. It's a fraction of the mark of Cain. Least that's what Gabriel theorized." I sigh and let my head fall back on the cushion as I expose my neck. "Being part Angel means I heal faster, got better reflexes and am stronger. Basically it's a power up."

"But who's stronger?" Emmet asked and my head snapped to him.

"Nephilihim, god, archangel, then pagans, then monsters, lastly humans. I'm between archangel and pagan." I says in a contemplative voice.

This time Alice was the one to speak. "You said there was a war Coming, I haven't seen a war."

"Something about new bloods or— led by some red head. Something something something baseball!" I look away from the ceiling to meet the Cullens exasperated looks. "What? Oh so now it's my fault for not paying attention. You try listening to dean talk about sex every other sentence. I lost interest." I shrug.

~~~ months passed and I tried to have weekly rift calls with my brothers. Sitting on the pavement in front of the rift as I talked to them like everything was normal. When all I wanted was to be home in the bunker.

"You shouldn't call so frequently. Sam he uh... he told me how you can do this. Cas filled in the rest." Deans voice cracked even under the distortion. "Cas said it's dangerous for you. Doing this, using his grace. He said you go—" deans voice cuts out. "It's like Sam with the wall, you can't keep doing this or your gonna break. Whether that makes you a vegetable or you go full blown ripper. These personality changes can't be healthy." Even though the rift I could hear the pain and guilt in his voice.

"I never blamed you. Not even when he told me what you were doing at the time. He could hurt me and tell me you were eating a sandwich and I not once blamed you. The hunt before I was kidnapped you saved my life and I could never imagine what happened after. You are my brother in all but blood. I would never blame you or Sam for the pain I went through. To you it was a month to me it felt like a lifetime. You said the same thing about hell once and did you ever blame Sam for being in hell?"

"Well no because—"

"That's kinda what makes a Winchester, the ability to live and die for family and still love unconditionally. Do you remember anymore about the newborn army?"

"You aren't actually planning to fight with them?" Dean asked in exasperation.

"Time moves quicker here. What may be a month to you will be many to me. The army will still come. And I'll keep calling every week. If I contain it until the army comes then I can let lose and not harm anybody. Nobody human." I say the last part sarcastically.

"No! No!" I hear shouting and the silhouette of dean turns over his should. "Sammy come in here!"

Sam enters and the two begin to talk fast under there breath. "She's gonna pull another —?"

"What do you mean another? She's done this befo— you've done this before?!" He shouts while turning back to me. "No! End of discussion, your not doing it."

"Dean!" Sam admonishes dean. "Marcella if this is what you need to do, I know this is hard for you. I support whatever decision you take."

"No no no this isn't Winchester approved until I approve it!" Dean argues loudly making me smile at his behavior.

"You guys are the best brothers a hunter could ask for." I say softly. Both sam and Dean stop talking and sam is the first to respond.

"We love you too Marcella. If you do fight be safe and kick some ass." Sam waves as the rift begins closing on its own. This parting is not full of regret or anger. It's just an until next time. Hopefully when deans calmed down and came around to the idea of me fighting against newborns. Or after. I add cheekily.

~~~

The drive back to the Cullen residence is hopeful for me. Sam's okay was all I needed. Deans would've been better but...can't always get what I want.

Jasper opens the door for me and helps me out of the car. The first month after the Cullens found out, I felt edgy around jasper. He obviously shows interest in me but I would shoot it down with reasons why not. He was undeterred and continued his polite gentleman behavior. Like a suitor courting a lady. Eventually I stopped correcting him and just let him do as he pleases.

His fingers moved down my hand as he held it gently in his icy grasp. The cold wasn't unwelcome, temperatures stopped affecting me some time ago.

"Will you tell my family about—"

I cut him off with a small yeah. I smile and walk faster and when I approach the door I swing it open widely and chant "the fun has arrived!" Like in Tarzan. Emmet zooms to my side and tries to tackle me and I sidestep him. "Too slow." I mock. Jasper holds my hand tighter and pulls me to the living room. "Ya know I spend so much time here I'm only at the motel to sleep."

"Your still paying for it?" Carlisle asks in surprise like he only just realized I'm homeless.

"Well duh. I mean it's under Burt Afrihamian but whoop de do."

"Credit card scams, great." Edward says under his breath.

"Cork it angel, Not like saving lives pays good money." I say spitefully. (Because Edward totally looks like angel from Buffy)

"How do you make money then?" Esme asks in curiosity.

"Poker, pool, gambling, sometimes taking a job in the area like day worker or something. Never make enough to sustain ourselves but if we save it then we can buy things like new guns and ammo. Under the counter shit."

"Full blown criminal." Edward says again.

"Say it to my face you limp noodle." I hiss. "Point is. Im fighting with you, not against you."

~~~

Jasper began training me outside of school to see if I was fit for battle as he put it. So far I had taken him down more times then he had taken me down. So I was deemed battle ready but we still spared for fun. The first time I had him pinned his eyes went dark and I met his other personality, the major.

"Hello Darlin'" the accent he used was much thicker than normal. My first clue. "I've been itching to meet you for a time now. You made him flustered enough for me to slip through." His words dripped like honey and venom as he held my waist and lifted the both of us.

This person who isn't Jasper, had a military presence that made him respectable. Second clue.

"And what should I call you?" I say tracing my finger around his eyes.

"Major, that's what everyone calls me." His eyes drifted. "He's worried I'll hurt you?"

I snorted and leaned heavier against him, my hand slipping to his shoulder as I laughed. "Cute. If you've seen it then you know I'll put you on your ass and smile doing it." I grinned sharply and the man practically purred. "So your his dark side? Maybe our two sides will meet, hit it off and slaughter a city." I say sarcastically. He chuffs and noses his head into my neck.

"You smell like pine trees and lightning. Bitter." He purrs pulling me closer. He just barely brushes his lips against my pulse when I wrap my hand around his throat.

"Ah ah ah," I admonish while moving him back. "Keep your nonexistent fangs to yourself, Major. Poisonous, remember." I tease.

He huffs before grinning. "You refuse his/our advancements? Do you not find me attractive?" He teases back.

"Very 'tractive. But I haven't got time to be foolin with a vampire. I'm not really into necrophilia, ya know." I say sarcastically. "And my brother would kill me twice over for it." I joke. He wouldn't really, he'd probably make a bunch of vampire jokes.

(Stay tuned for part four when I finally write the newborn army fight. I’m moving fast cause the fight was the whole reason I wanna write this.)

#twilight #jasper hale #supernatural fluff #supernatual #vampire #winchester brothers #twihard #multishot

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