#need to block it and probably give it a good wash but ITS DONE AND ALL ENDS WEAVED IN

[santicazorla]

it’s finishedddd 🥰

#fucking finally but anyway #cuff was a good idea thank u everyone who voted for that #need to block it and probably give it a good wash but ITS DONE AND ALL ENDS WEAVED IN #🧶

[aealzx]

Working on Raph’s leg with Don was a fascination that left Leon grinning constantly behind his surgical mask. He’d seen so many videos, but those didn’t compare to the real thing. And with Don there almost all of the stress of the procedure was gone. Pushing back the muscle, clamping it in place, using saline to clean the wound and critically inspect it for residual debris. All the while Don was calmly talking him through the steps, letting Leon learn at the same time. It took hours to get the injury clean, stabilized, packed with antibiotics, and wrapped up, but Leon hardly noticed. Even the enthusiastic chatter beyond the curtain couldn’t distract him from Don’s directions.

“Aaaand we’re done,” Don’s concluding comment came as soon as Leon secured the final bandage wrapping in place. It was such a stark contrast from before to have the clean, beige colored bindings around Raph’s now straight leg, but Leon was mostly feeling like they hadn’t spent nearly enough time to fix that mess.

“Wait- really?” Leon asked, gaze snapping up to look at Don.

Don could only chuckle, having been incredibly impressed by Leon’s single minded focus the entire time. He was hardly surprised at the question now. “Yes- But! Let’s clean up everything else before we pull the curtain down. Okay?” he confirmed, reaching out a hand to block Leon from snatching the curtain excitedly, then gesturing to the bloodied mess of tools around them.

“O’oh… Right,” Leon laughed weakly, the mess fully registering in his mind now as he looked around. It could have been a lot worse, but it would probably still be alarming for others to see. At least it didn’t take too long to clean up the area. The tools and other bloodied items were placed in a bin to take back to the sinks to be washed and sterilized. Then the areas that couldn’t be moved easily were wiped down with antiseptic soaked cloths, and their surgical coverings taken off. Only then did Don give Leon the go ahead to pull the curtain back.

Beaming with an excited smile, Leon poked his head around to look at the others. “Hey Raphie,” he beckoned, noting how April was dozing like a cat curled up around Raph’s head as he and Raphael were a little more quietly watching movies on a tablet Leo had fetched for them.

“Yeah?” Raph asked immediately, shifting his gaze over to Leon. He was exhausted, it was easy to tell. But Leon was expecting that considering none of them had really had proper sleep in the past day and more.

Flinging the curtain aside with a dramatic flair, keeping it held out of the way, Leon beamed proudly. “All done!” he chimed.

Raph took a moment to fully register what Leon was showing him, but then twitched into a half sit up with a small gasp. “Ohmigosh, Raph’s okay!” Raph hushed, sitting up fully and awkwardly jerking his still numb leg towards himself. “I hardly noticed. That’s amazing Leo!”

The movement roused April fully out of her dose, and she quickly oriented herself with a glance around before focusing on the bandages as well. “Woah! Heeeyy lookit that big guy!” April added to the cheers, wrapping her arms around Raph’s bicep and shaking him a little.

“Heheee,” Leon chuckled, rubbing his nose and basking in the praise. “Just be careful still. You still shouldn’t walk on it, so we’ll have to find some crutches for you. How are you feeling?”

“...Mostly just hungry now,” Raph admitted, giving a sheepish smile. His leg didn’t hurt, he couldn’t even feel it. And the medicine and IV fluids helped the fever and rest of his aches. Now he just needed to fill his empty stomach. And probably get some sleep. “And sleepy,” he added, ending up causing himself to yawn after voicing the feeling.

“That’s good. We’ll see about getting you to a bed, and get some food for you,” Leon chuckled, ignoring his own stomach protesting its gaping emptiness.

“Allow me to be of assistance with that.”

The new voice caused the three newest visitors to whip their heads towards the entrance of the infirmary where Leatherhead and Mikey were entering with trays full of food in various dishes. Leatherhead had been the one to speak, and definitely caught the teens’ attention.

“WOAH!” April blurted.

“Ohmigosh you’re STILL SO COOL!” Leon gushed, being kept in place only by politeness and his irritated knee. He remembered Leatherhead from when he first got there, but he hadn’t been able to appropriately address him then.

“Ohhhhh…. You’re bigger than Raph is,” Raph noted, a coo very similar to Lil Mikey’s leaving his mouth as his eyes also shined with awe.

Leatherhead could only chuckle in mildly confused embarrassment, not used to people being drawn to him favorably in any manner. Normally people were either scared of him, or aggressive towards him. It was a lovely change, even if he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Sounds like we have perfect timing. Who’s ready for… well I guess it’s breakfast now, huh?” Mikey chimed in, laughing at the kids’ antics towards their friend. They must not be used to seeing a crocodile mutant. “I was starting to get worried all my work was gonna go to waste. I had to warm it back up,” Mikey chuckled, pausing at an unmarked distance away from the surgery area. He’d been scolded too many times by Don for bringing food where surgery was done.

“You wanna get the kid this time, Leatherhead? I can take the food,” Raphael offered, getting to his feet to take the tray. He could easily lift Raph, but he still understood it would probably be more comfortable for him if someone the same size or bigger than him picked him up.

“It would be my pleasure,” Leatherhead agreed, letting Raphael take the tray before approaching the others and kneeling in front of them. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. Normally I assist Donatello with surgery, but as the role was already sufficiently fulfilled I didn’t want to crowd. My name is Leatherhead. Am I correct in assuming you two are also known as Raphael and Leonardo?”

“Pff- yeah, but, Leo is fine,” Leon huffed with a smile, mildly uncomfortable with the use of his full name. “Or Nardo as Donnie likes to say. Leon. Face man. Anything but my full name. I feel like I’m in trouble.”

The response ended up earning a snicker from Raphael, giving Leo a nudge as he brought up the rear with another tray of food. “There’s a welcome change,” he teased, earning a slight glare from Leo.

“Wait- did I hear that right? Face man?” Mikey asked, excitement bubbling under the surface.

“Well yeah. Who else would you put in the front but the one with the best looks,” Leon confirmed, framing his face with his hands and raising his chin with a dashing smile.

The flaunting earned snickers from April, and a fond smile from Raph. But Raphael let out a loud honk laugh as Leo’s expression scrunched in disoriented confusion. “Oh my gosh, it’s like Leo and I got spliced!” Mikey laughed, beaming from ear to ear. “I like this Leo. I like him a lot.”

As the others messed around a little, Leatherhead looked back to April to finish introductions before he moved Raph. “May I ask your name, little miss?”

Giving a chuckle at how polite Leatherhead was, April nodded, reaching her hand out for a handshake. “Sure. April O’Neil. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leatherhead.”

The response was mildly surprising, and Leatherhead chuckled as he gently took her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss O’Neil.”

“You’re remarkably well adjusted to… all of this,” Leo admitted, rolling his head at everything since his hands were full.

“Well yeah, it’s pretty much normal for me,” April answered. “I’ve known these guys since I was eight, we grew up together. And things just kept getting crazier and crazier as we got older. Dimension hopping is probably up there with finding out we had a whole hidden city under New York. It’s just another place to go.” She gave a shrug, scooting out of the way as Leatherhead scooped Raph up after getting permission to do so from him while she had been talking to Leo.

“Oh… I see,” Leo blinked, having so many answers to unasked questions in his head given. That explained a lot about all of their behavior. “Do they… walk around on the surface then? Among people?”

“Uhhh no… Not really. We still stick to non populated areas just in case. But if we do get caught we just pretend we’re going to a science convention and they’re all dressed up in cosplay,” April explained, trying to converse with Leo but inevitably getting distracted again. “Hang on, I gotta get pics of this too,” she excused, digging her phone out of her dress pocket and scooting off the table.

Unlike the last time he’d been picked up Raph had no fear of squishing the one carrying him, and therefore was much less tense. Leatherhead had scooped him up under his knees and back, and Raph could only tuck his hands close to his chest as a big smile squished his cheeks. It was a foreign feeling, but it was actually kind of nice. Just being slung around so gently. Moving somewhere without having to go there himself. It was bringing back faint memories of Splinter carrying him to bed a very long time ago, and he felt he could understand now why his little brothers loved to climb on him so much.

“Gosh, picked up twice in one day. You’re gonna get spoiled here Raph,” Leon laughed, squeezing in next to Raph to beam a smile at the camera as April took a picture of them. Looking down at the short she got, April had to coo a little at the adorable smile and tiny wave Raph had given her. He really was enjoying himself. “You can put him with Mikey,” Leon directed, guiding Leatherhead over to where Lil Mikey was drooling on the pillow.

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Previous Next

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I rushed a lil on the last bits of the pic so I could get it up today X'D So excuse if there are missing details |D

This was my first time drawing a crocodile face, and Leatherhead ended up looking like a nice grandpa to me X'DD oh well, I wanted him to look softer.

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cdk #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover #Leatherhead #Mikey #03 Mikey #writing #fanfic #long post

[ovaryacted]

For that prompt game thingy

99 with leon x slasher reader maybe :0

Hey!! Thank you for requesting! I'm literally so sorry this took me such a long time to write and it turned out much longer than I anticipated. I've never really done anything dark-ish or with suspense, so I wanted to take a shot at it and see what my brain came up with but of course, it took me a while lol. I think for this one probably RE2R Leon, just him as a regular cop, and he lives in a city so dealer’s choice. Anyways, hopefully, this is interesting cause I’m a little nervous lolz. :) [ prompt game ]

99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” RE2R Leon x reader [cw: slightly dark themes, mentions of body parts & violence] - 1.5k words

It hasn't been long since Leon started his new job as a rookie cop, excited was an understatement. Yet it seemed as if the universe had given him the worst possible combination of a new role and what seemed to be someone on a killing spree.

The first case happened a few weeks ago, a young male was reported to be slashed over his torso. It was one knife wound to the upper chest, clean and efficient, followed by another to the lung and one more up the stomach. Leon was on the scene, answering the call of a distressed citizen when they found the body in an alleyway, and the sight was enough to make him nauseous. It was seen as a premeditated murder case, but there were no traces of the perpetrator left behind. No fingerprints, no lost weapons, nothing.

Like a ghost in the wind, it was a dead end.

The more experienced agents took over the investigation, and Leon was back to being a cop. He thought it was over, that he’d be able to go back on patrol duty and ride along in his car.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The murders became more frequent, almost for show, and the way the deaths were done became more theatric as time passed. Week after week, more people began to disappear from the city, mostly male victims each torn apart in exuberant ways. A gash up the spine, a straight slash across the neck, another had an arm and leg detached from the person's torso. But the main wound on the chest of each victim was the only controlled variable between all of them.

Either way, it seemed like someone was enjoying their time passionately tearing other people apart.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it”, Leon mumbled to himself as you washed up the dishes in the kitchen after dinner. He had been out working on these cases tirelessly, constantly on patrol, and barely been home with you as a result of everything piling up.

“Who just goes around and starts randomly killing people? I mean, this feels like some shit out of a horror movie”, he continued to speak, raising his head to look at the back of your head.

“Some people are just crazy like that. You know how people get inspiration from those crazed fanatics on those cult forums”, you commented, finishing washing the cooking pot you had in the sink and putting it on the drying rack.

“If it was one thing I wasn’t expecting, was to deal with a mass murderer the first few weeks of my damn job”, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as the stress was starting to take its toll.

“Just your luck huh?”, you said with a teasing smirk, wiping the knife you were cleaning with a soapy sponge.

You were almost methodical with the way you handled the blade, watching the suds sliding off of it as you rinsed it, careful not to cut yourself. You dried it with one of the dishtowels you threw to the side, the metal gleaming under the kitchen light. Giving it one last good wipe you put it back in the wooden block along with the rest of your knife collection.

“Maybe what you need is a vacation. Away from this mess. You have some PTO you could take right?”, you asked as you walked towards him, sitting on his lap while he remained seated on the dining room chair. He pondered for a bit, watching how you flicked the ends of his hair and curled it around your finger.

“I mean I do but…the chief might not like it if I left so abruptly. Don’t want to make the wrong impression”, he contemplated it, trying to fight you on your words but it was something on his mind.

“You need a break Leon, from all of this. Say it’s a family emergency or something. I hate seeing you so stressed like this baby”, you pouted at him, lips puckering out as you kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Just a few days, that’s all I’m asking”

He caressed your lower back affectionately as you sat on his lap, feeling your hands squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his chest. The nagging voice in his head kept thinking about your proposition, the image of being away with you and just enjoying his time sounded beyond appealing. It wouldn’t be so bad right? He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.

“A break doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see if I can snag a couple of days off okay?”, Leon said to you, and you cheered happily at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“We'll go take a little vacation. Just you and me”, your eyes held that promise of excitement as they bore into Leon’s, content that he was at least going to try for your sake.

You were patient as you waited for any sign of Leon possibly getting time off, thinking that you wouldn’t have any luck with the way things were. But the moment you were granted a win once he spoke to the chief, you nearly jumped on top of him from joy. It didn’t take long before you both packed your bags and drove off into the mountains, renting a cabin that would be good for a weekend of leisure. The both of you were excited to finally get away from all the chaos in the city and to just spend some quality time together.

But what you envisioned when it came to a vacation was completely different from what Leon had in mind.

He didn’t recall how it happened. One minute you two were having dinner, eating some steak and potatoes paired with some red wine. The next, his head felt dizzy as he struggled to keep himself upright, calling out your name before his vision faded to black.

Now he found himself with his arms and ankles tied together by some rope, slouched on the floor and disheveled. He didn’t know how he managed to get into this precarious situation, but it was all giving him whiplash. The wood paneling of the walls was different, it was dim and quiet in the cabin and his surroundings were unusual.

Was he back at the cabin? Was he still in the same place with you? Where were you?

His mind was going a mile a minute and his nerves were on high, the skills he’s developed from being a cop going into overdrive to come up with a solution. Leon started looking around, scrabbling to find anything to help him free his hands so he could look for you.

But that’s when he heard it, when your bubbly laughter filtered through the crisp air surrounding him. His ears perked up the sound, perceptive blue eyes observing you diligently as you came into view. There was a dark and twisted grin on your face, something he’s never seen before.

“What the hell is going on?”, he was confused, couldn’t make sense of the current circumstances. But all he wondered was why you looked at him as if he were a meal. Some plaything for your enjoyment.

“Well, I needed to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep having you on my trail sweetheart. That’s when the fun ends”, in your hand was the familiar kitchen blade, shiny and sharpened, gleaming despite the darkness of the room you were both in. It took a second before the realization hit him, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as a wave of overlapping emotions washed over him.

“It was you?”, his eyes widened as he watched you, finally connecting the dots. The slasher he’d been looking for was right under his nose the entire time, so deeply hidden he didn’t even think it was possible. He was sleeping with the devil, and it made his stomach churn.

“Why? Why did you do it?!”, it felt like his entire world was falling apart, his sense of normalcy that he had worked so hard to achieve was gone in the blink of an eye. And he couldn’t do anything to save it.

“Had some things to take care of, needed to get my stress out somehow. Sorry if I have hobbies”, this was all a joke to you, if anything it was entertaining to see Leon suffer.

“It doesn’t have to be like this. Nothing bad has to happen here”, he felt pathetic as he begged, looking at you in hopes of finding any trace of morality left.

All you could do was laugh at him, loud and shameless. You took a step closer, crouching down to his level as you grazed the tip of the knife from his throat up towards his chin. Your gaze darkened and your smile curled, sending a chill down Leon’s spine.

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #ovaryacted drabbles #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆ #literally why is this so long lmfao?? #like okay bro PLEASE

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for taking everything I can from a former friend?

I 20 met this guy J 24M last year through a mutual friend, and since we happened to live in the same neighborhood we hung out more. For context, during this entire time I am/was also supporting an unrelated person financially, so I need every penny and have way less than J.

J has borderline personality disorder and does not go to therapy. I don't want to vilify anyone in the same situation, I'm just bringing it up because J's bps deeply impacts every aspect of his life.

He'd been going through some tough times, with his love life going to shit, cutting off his toxic family and having to find his own apartment etc, so I helped him often.

Since neither of us have much, we shared stuff regularly, e.g. he'd buy me food sometimes and I gave J my skateboard, among other things. I painted his walls & decorated, because I have the skill necessary and he doesn't. I went out to look at furniture with him. I asked my parents to give him furniture they were selling (he got it free). I frequently went to his place in the middle of the night, whether he had splitting migraines or thought someone had tried to break in. I helped him organize a Christmas party, even though he cancelled it because he got angry at someone or something. I cooked for him a few times (he doesn't cook). I let him use my washing machine after he moved into his new apartment without one, even though he owned a cat so all his clothes were covered in cat hair and I have a severe cat allergy, meaning I couldn't do my laundry normally & sometimes it came out with cat hair no matter how hard I tried (this lasted 8 months and would have gone on indefinitely if not for following events). Btw I did all of this without asking for anything in return.

Earlier this year, because of his ridiculously high expectations, he dumped his best friend at the time (the mutual friend), and assigned me his new best friend. After a few months, they became friends again anyway but I kept the "best friend" title.

In July, he hurt his dominant hand during an angry outburst. I was there when it happened but he seemed fine at the time. When he came to do his laundry the next day, Sunday, he told me that his hand was sprained and we talked about how he'd need to see the doctor the next day. He agreed to go. He promised to go to the doctor.

I know he's not good with going to doctors, especially on his own. So I texted him the next day and asked if he'd already gone. He responded "Nope, don't feel like", and upon asking why, he said that "it'll heal on its own anyway". Which to me read as 'I don't care.'

This pissed me off. I blocked him. I planned to unblock him once I'd calmed down, probably in a few days. I was really upset about this because it happens regularly. Him not going to the doctor when he should is a pattern, a bad pattern. He's gotten me sick that way.

The next day he texted my partner, asking if I was okay. They explained that i was upset at him for telling me he'd go to the doctor but then not going. He blew up at them that it was none of my business anyway whether or not he went to the doctor. Whined about his medical anxiety (which is valid but wasn't the point). Said that the sprain was healing so he didn't have to go. They argued for a while until my partner got tired and stopped responding.

Apparently I am now no longer his friend. He asked our mutual friend to tell me to pick up my stuff. I'm busy these days, so I haven't done it yet.

When I pick up my stuff, it's gonna be a whole list of things: a seat/cushion, a stovetop, 75€ worth of comics, a measuring tape, the skateboard, a box. I'll also bring him laundry detergents that are laying around at my place still.

Now WIBTA if I ask him to also give me pain medication to replace all the meds I gave him and money for the furniture I got him for free at the time (I'll ask 40€ even though they're worth more)?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[silawastaken]

HELLO, ITS CHRIXYTY FROM AO3!!!! i decided to make a tumblr account just so i can interact with you on here :3 why? because i can. dont question me. i do strange things sometimes. (a lot of the time) but dont we all?

(i was serious when i said i would stop hovering like a ghost and start interacting. you better expect a LOT of comments from me from now on BECAUSE I JUST NEED TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION.)

ANYWAYS CHAPTER 13 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ THANK YOU FOR THIS WONDERFUL PIECE OF ART. THIS WHOLE FIC IS A MASTERPIECE AND I LOVE THE ANGST !!! (ESPECIALLY DAZAI ANGST 🤗)

like im not even joking no fic has ever made my heart pound every second i read it before...like literally nothing could be happening and my heart is pounding at 150 bpm like damn its so good you might give me a heart attack frfr.

chuuyas so dense but i can kinda get his point of view :( UGH the slow burn is just making me anticipate the moment he finds out dazai's his soulmate even more...(betting chuuya will punch dazai out of anger because he realises dazai did all those things to himself...and then he'll feel the pain from the punch and be 100% certain and will start bawling cause idk emotion overload?? i can imagine it but yea im yapping a lot haha)

OH AND HIS FRIENDS FINDING OUT ABOUT ODAS DEATH??? AHH

also it makes me happy when authors refer to the canon universe in their fics somewhere like when dazai called his friends his "little detective agency" like its a small detail but it just makes me happy.

okay im SERIOUSLY yapping way too much but i needed to get all this out somewhere. my bsf is getting sick of me talking so much grrrrr >:(

(permission to one day when this fic is finished print it all out and bind it?? so i can forever keep it as like a memento and pass it down to future generations so they too can appreciate this amazing piece of literature??)

wow i wrote a lot. if only i could write this much for my fic in such a short time during writer's block.

WAITWAITWAITWAIT. I NORMALLY TRY TO ANSWER THESE TOPIC BY TOPIC BUT BINDING. MY. FIC???? HELL YES YOU HAVE PERMISSION WHAT THE HELL??? THAT'S SO COOL??? if i ask very nicely would you make me one too..? I'd pay postage and everything 🙏🙏 i wish i had the patience to bind fics into books but it requires so much time and patience that I don't have 😭

My only thing I would want to say is that I plan on revising some of the earlier chapters where it doesn't quite flow the way the rest of the chapters do, so if I finish it before I've done that (which probably won't happen, but just in case), I would recommend waiting a little!

ANYWAY. making an entire tumblr acc just to interact with me here? ...that's dedication man🫡 I already said it but I appreciate EVERY comment i get so i will be waiting with baited breath after every chapter!!

Glad you're loving the angst tho, I'm having a lot of the time throwing dazai and chuuya into a washing machine full of stones every chapter. great character building.

The reveals are gonna be so fun I can't wait to write them honestly. I'm so excited!!! Still got ages to go tho, so strap in it's gonna be a while.

I ALSO LOOOOVE REFERENCING THE CANON WHILE WRITING. THE NYE FLASHBACK WHERE DAZAI THINKS ABOUT HIS CONVERSATION WHERE THEY WANT TO BE DETECTIVES. OMG. I WAS SO PROUD OF THAT. AND THE 'soulmate detective agency'.

Do not feel bad about writing a lot cause I loved reading this and responding and once again YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO BIND IT ONCE IT'S DONE.

#love talking to people #please keep yapping in my asks bc they're always so fun to read #bsd #ao3 fanfic #soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #bsd fanfic #silas yaps

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

the day it started

summary: an alternate opening to my byers!sibling series

WC: 892

warnings: none!

A/N: this was one of the early version of the series rewrite for reader insert and honesty i like it too much to let it grow cobwebs in the drafts. plus i feel like it gives a different vibe to the story if you read this as the start. @alecmores​ is my trusty proof reader (i have to threaten them sometimes. its fine y’all, dont call paw patrol)

masterlist

“(Y/n), get up, I’m making breakfast.”

Jonathan shook you awake from your peaceful slumber and you just grumbled and pulled the blanket tighter over your face blocking out any light seeping its way into your room. Sadly, Jonathan also grabbed the blanket and ripped it off you, causing chills to run up your body from the abrupt coldness.

“Christ, okay. I’m up.” You blurted out, just wanting Jonathan out of your room. You could feel the little smirk on his stupid face as he walked away and closed your door.

You slapped your hands over your face, just wanting to stay home and skip school today, but you couldn’t or your mom would get upset at you. So you slowly, but surely, got up into a sitting position on your bed, your hands resting on both sides of your body with you just leaning forward a bit to let the dizziness pass. Then you got up feeling like a plank of wood with how stiff your body was, making the process of getting ready a bit slow. 

“Dressed, face washed, teeth brushed, backpack ready,” you mumbled to yourself making sure your little checklist was completed because, yes, sometimes these small things slip past you. With everything good, you made your way to the kitchen and saw Jonathan cooking some eggs and Joyce walking into the kitchen dressed for work.

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”

You looked at your mom with your half-lidded sleepy eyes just causing her to smile at you and her little joke. You just made your way to the table and took a seat waiting for food to be served. You felt your mom grab your head with her hands and planted a kiss on the crown of your bedhead. You just tilted your head up at her and gave her a smile which she returned lovingly. Then you turned to Jonathan with your hunger and patience waning.

“Excuse me, sir, but I would like my breakfast now since you woke me up too early,” you spoke to him with a sarcastic air. He just looked at you and rolled his eyes and went back to finishing the eggs.

“Where’s Will?” Joyce asked when she noticed that Will hadn’t left his room since you got to the table.

“I forgot to wake him up.”

“But you remembered me.”

Joyce just rolled her eyes at the both of you and went to Will’s room knocking on his door waiting for an answer before entering. When she didn’t get one she went inside and noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be seen along with his backpack.

“Did Will come home last night?” she asked when walking back to the both of you with breakfast finally done.

You and Jonathan looked at each other asking the same question with your eyes, when noticing both of you didn’t know the panic began to brew.

“I don’t know, I was at work until 10.” “I was at the library studying for a few hours.”

Joyce looked exasperated with both of your answers. “Guys, you know you can’t be out late when I’m working. There needs to be someone home with Will.”

“Well, he was at the Wheeler’s pretty much all day, probably just slept over,” Jonathan tried to supply an answer to Joyce.

You were eating your eggs and toast as you listened to your mom talking with Mrs. Wheeler over the phone. “Oh, he probably just- probably just left early for school. Okay, thanks Karen, bye.”

You furrowed your brows a bit after hearing your mom's response to Mrs. Wheeler about Will’s absence. “Mom, why did you lie to Mrs. Wheeler?”

Joyce just started to wring her hands together and looked between you and Jonathan. She tried to flash a smile of sorts, but it fell flat and you felt the panic in your stomach rising more by the second.

“He probably just left early for school,” she said, trying to convince everyone, mostly herself.

You just continued to eat your breakfast, but you kept glancing over at Jonathan to see his reaction to this situation.

“We’ll see if he’s at school when we get there,” he replied meekly.

Joyce nodded at his reply and then kissed both of your heads before leaving for work, the anxiety growing on her shoulders.

When you heard the front door close and heard the car engine turn on you turned to Jonathan who was barely eating the breakfast he made. You turned to him with your toast in your hand that was resting on the table.

“Do you really think Will is just at school?”

Jonathan turned his head at your question and he could probably tell the anxiety swimming in your eyes because he gave you something of a smile and nodded his head while picking at his eggs.

“Yea, everything is alright, (Y/n).”

You just stared at your plate for the next few seconds trying to calm your mind from its racing thoughts about Will.

“Yea, you’re  probably right.”

#stranger things #stranger things series #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things reader insert #strangers things season one #stranger things byers!reader #female byers!sibling #will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers

[eddies-freak]

The Most Metal Prom Ever - Part Three

Summary: A member of the Hellfire Club, you and Eddie have been good friends for a while. You suspect Eddie feels more, like you. Will he be able to work up the courage to ask you to prom? And will you be able to fight off your demons for long enough that he has a chance?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Discussion of Abusive Father, Blood (Nosebleed), Zombie (??).

A/N: I changed the ages of the characters so that the older group is in Senior year while the younger group are still freshmen. Switches between you and Eddie’s POV’s erratically! Unedited, will go back later to edit!

PART ONE - PART TWO

You awoke the next morning feeling exhausted: you’d barely gotten any sleep due to the nightmares that had kept you up all night. Visions of your father, your mother, violent scenes seen through cracks in doors, hiding in the closet with Cyndi Lauper blasting through your stereo, trying to block out the noise of their fighting. And then… his body. You shook the thought out of your head, and looked over at Nancy’s sleeping figure, and then the clock on the bedside table next to her. 6:57. 

The alarm would go off any minute now. You creeped out of bed and into the bathroom, where you went to the bathroom and begun to silently brush your teeth, hearing the familiar beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep of Nancy’s alarm clock. You heard the sound of Nancy slamming her hand down onto the top of the clock and it falling silent, its plea to wake finally being heard. Nancy shuffled into the bathroom where she greeted you with a groggy “good morning,” as you spit out your toothpaste. You washed your face while she brushed her teeth, and dressed as soon as you were done. 

You’d packed a black “The Clash” shirt and some jeans, as well as your Reebok sneakers. The same as Eddie’s, you thought. The same ones you had been wearing the day you met him, when he approached you in the cafeteria. That had been one of the best days of your life. The day when Eddie came into your life, nearly saving you from everything that happened at home.

After it happened, you made good friends with Nancy, and she empathized with you. You went through everything together. When Will was “lost in the woods,” when he was possessed by the Mind Flayer, and when Starcourt Mall caught on fire. But now… now something didn’t feel right. You tried to think who would make the least deal out of the feeling you had, and one person came to mind: Max. You resolved to talk to her about it later and see what she thought before you told Nancy or Steve or anyone else. They were the ones who would hover around you, expecting you to break at any given moment. You knew it was just because they cared about you, but you wanted to be able to deal with this as much on your own as you could. 

Nancy emerged from the bathroom, and as she dressed you did your makeup. “That’s a little more than usual…” Nancy said with a smirk. “Trying to impress any certain someone?” You looked in the mirror, realizing you’d absentmindedly strayed away from your typical routine. 

“Sure, Nance. Think what you want,” you replied with an airy chuckle, trying to keep things light. Nancy saw right through the facade you put on.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Worry lines creased her face, her thick eyebrows pulling together in concern. Damnit. You really hadn’t wanted to get into this right now. 

“Nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nance,” you replied, one last ploy to shift her attention away from her suspicions. 

“No, y/n/n. I can tell when something’s wrong. You’re my best friend, I know you too well.” Damnit. You sighed.

“I just… I need to talk to someone else about it first, before I tell you or Steve or anyone else.”

“Who?” Nancy asked, probably expecting you to say your mom or another adult. 

“I-...” you sighed again. “Max.” Nancy looked incredibly hurt. You felt bad, but you really needed a fresh perspective, one only Max could give. Nancy knew more about the situation, sure, but Max had more experience with the issue, even if it hadn’t been for as long as I had. She had witnessed it, as I had. She had witnessed all of it. 

For the remainder of the time you spent getting ready for the day, you didn’t say a word. You trod downstairs for breakfast, where Karen Wheeler greeted you, as energetic as ever. Holly was sitting at the table, already eating, alongside Ted Wheeler who sat reading the newspaper. 

“Ready for some breakfast?”

“Sure, that’d be great, Mrs. Wheeler.” You both sat silently, chins on hands and staring off into space, lost in your own thoughts. 

“Why so quiet, girls?”

“Oh, we’re just really tired. Stayed up late talking, y’know?” you answered. 

“Well, I didn’t hear anything.”

“We were trying to be quiet so we didn’t wake anyone up,” Nancy contributed.

“Well that was very considerate of you two. Just make sure you get to bed a little earlier next time, alright?”

“Sure, Mom,” Nancy replied. 

After you ate the blueberry pancakes Karen served, you hopped on your bike along with Nancy and Mike, and rode off to school. 

—

You sped through your classes that day, Science being the most boring, because you couldn’t wait until your next class: English. The first class that day that you had with Eddie. You kept looking at the clock, waiting for 10:22 when the bell would ring. The last minute seemed to tick by slower than all previous ones, but finally the bell rang. You rushed to your locker to grab your English notebook, and climbed upstairs to the English room. You were one of the first in the classroom, which meant you had to wait what felt like an eternal amount of time to see Eddie. 

You used it to contemplate how you would apologize to Nancy. You thought that once she realized you wanted to talk to someone who had a similar experience as you, she would understand. You just wanted someone to be able to actually sympathize with your feelings and know what you were going through, not just try to imagine it. 

Suddenly the bell rung, drawing you out of your thoughts. Ms. O’Donnel was entering the classroom finally, and begun class as she surveyed the classroom., noticing who was absent. 

“Alright class, would you please take out your-” the door burst open, and the whole class turned to see who had just made this very startling entrance. You, however, didn’t have to look. You knew who it was. 

“Sorry I’m late, Ms. O’Donnel, I didn’t really feel like coming on time today.” Eddie said, taking his seat three chairs away from you in the corner of the classroom. He saw you staring and winked, causing you to blush. 

“Thank you for that, Mr. Munson. Are you quite finished?”

“Quite, yes.” Ms. O’Donnel gave an annoyed huff, causing Eddie’s face to turn upward in a satisfied smirk. 

“As I was saying when we were so rudely-” she paused to look at Eddie, who was still smirking, “-interrupted, would you please take out your English notebooks? Mr. Grant, please come pass these books out.” You looked towards Ms. O’Donnel’s desk to see stack upon stack upon stack of the same book: The Hobbit. Glancing at Eddie, you saw his eyes light up. This was his favorite book. “Today we’ll be doing literary analysis of the first two chapters with partners, and I will be choosing your partners, Miss Young, so put your hand down.” Katie Young assumed a sad look on her face, and she forlornly looked at her best friend across the room.

Ms. O’Donnel took a fishbowl with scraps of paper in it out from under her desk. “Your partner will be selected at random, so when I call your name, please come up to my desk and draw a name out of this bowl. Whoever’s name you draw out will be your partner for the entire amount of time we take to read this book.”

You zoned out at that point, vaguely hearing Katie squeal when she picked her friend’s name anyways, but for the most part not really noticing who got paired with who. Until you heard Ms. O’Donnel call your name. 

“Y/n Y/l/n. Please come up and choose your partner.” At that point the bowl was a little less than ⅓ full, and as you stood up you noticed Eddie wasn’t sitting with a partner yet. Please be Eddie, Please be Eddie, Please be Eddie, you begun to pray as you walked up to your teacher’s desk. Ms. O’Donnel held the bowl out to you with a vague smile about her lips. You had always been one of her favorites: a hard worker, as a result of being best friends with Nancy since as far back as you could remember. You put your hand in the bowl lethargically, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the class’s eyes on you, the scraps of paper tickling your fingertips. 

Your hand clasped onto a piece of paper, drawn to it by the vague texture it had. Drawing your hand out of the bowl just as slowly as you had placed it in, you unfolded the slip of paper and saw a familiar name etched onto its surface. Eddie Munson. Your heart momentarily stopped, and you blushed. 

“Say the name on the paper, dear,” Ms. O’Donnel prompted. 

“Uh- Ed-Eddie Munson,” you stammered, and you could’ve sworn you heard Eddie say a silent Yes! under his breath as you walked over to his desk. You also heard the whispers from your classmates, whispers that weren’t so friendly, some that were intended to be. She always hangs out with the freak. I feel sorry for her. They’re both freaks. 

You pulled your chair over to be directly next to Eddie’s, and brought your notebook, The Hobbit, and a pen over, too. “Hey,” you whispered once you were situated.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he responded, the nickname making you blush. You shook off the feeling and thought about what Nancy said. I’d prescribe minor flirting, perhaps playing with his hair and his rings as you mentioned you wanted to… You were nervous but thought fuck it, and took his hand in yours. He pulled away at first, and you turned red again, mumbling a “sorry.” 

“No, no, you’re fine. Just took me off guard is all,” he said with a smirk slightly different than the one he gave Ms. O’Donnel, deepening your face to fire engine red as he took your hand. You started fiddling with his rings, him watching you and your hands intently as the rest of the partners were chosen. You laid your head down on the desk at some point and placed his hand next to it as your continued to hold his hand and fiddle with his rings, twisting them around and putting them on different fingers and even at some point taking one off and putting it on your own hand. When you went to put it back on his finger, he stopped you. 

“Keep it,” he said. “Looks better on you anyway,” he added as an afterthought, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

Ms. O’Donnel gave a clap to get everyone’s attention. “Now that partners have been chosen, please read the first two chapters of The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien, and read his short biography when the paper gets passed to you. Write any notes you may have in your notebook, we will discuss next class. Anything you do not finish today becomes homework that you must complete with your partner. I don’t care if you do it in person or over the phone, but please just get it done. Off you go,” she finished with a huff, and took a piece of gum out of her purse and put it in her mouth. 

“Uh… so do you want to read or do you want me to read?” Eddie asked nervously, looking at your still touching hands. 

“You can read first,” you said, breaking your hands apart to grab your pen and open your notebook. “I know how much you love this book.” Eddie chuckled silently. 

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he said, and grabbed your non-dexterous hand to hold in your lap while he held the book open with the other. 

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

He did a great narrational voice, and even went on to give all the characters different voices, too. You tried to keep up and take notes, but it was hard when you were distracted by holding hands with your long-time crush. And thinking about the fact that it was he who had grabbed your hand. 

It went on like this for a while, until you finished the first chapter right before the bell rang. “So we’ll finish this later, yeah?” he asked. “Up for coming over after school?” 

“Sure,” you responded with a casual smile. Eddie walked you to your locker where you picked up your lunch, but had to tell him you were going to eat with Max today, that there was something you two needed to talk about. 

“Uh… sure, yeah. You’re sitting back with us tomorrow though, right?” he asked. You thought it was sweet how much he valued the time you ate lunch together. 

“Yeah,” you said, smiling again. “Yeah, I’ll be back tomorrow.” You decided to take it a step further and kiss him on the cheek before going to find Max. 

—

You peeked in the lunchroom, where you saw Max sitting by herself at a table. After a minute of frantic waving, you finally caught her eye and motioned for her to follow you. She took her headphones off and put her food back in her lunchbox, meeting you outside. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Can we talk?” you asked. “But not here… can we go somewhere more… private?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah I just… I need to talk to someone who’ll understand where I’m coming from.” With that a look of understanding dawned on Max’s face, and she followed you to the picnic table in the woods. 

“So… what’s on your mind?” she asked, pulling a turkey sandwich with a few bites taken out of it out of her lunchbox. You pulled the PB&J you had packed the night prior out of yours, the jelly and peanut butter messy in the bag where it had come out of the sides of the sandwich. 

“I don’t know, I’ve just been… thinking about the things that’ve happened more than usual lately. It’s like the memories are haunting me. I’ll wake up from nightmares about it in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. And… I get these strange, like- I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like… it’s like I'm back there, like I’m there and it’s happening again. And don’t even get me started on that weird clock.” You looked up at Max, only to find she wasn’t Max anymore. 

She was some strange zombie mutant creature, with burnt skin and milky eyes. 

Dong. 

You scrambled away from the table as fast as you could, running through the woods trying to get away from the sound of the clock. 

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.

You still heard it, its menacing ticks rattling through your body. 

Dong. 

You looked behind you to see a grandfather clock embedded in the tree behind you, the glass of the face shattering to give way to dozens of black widow spiders. 

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.

Dong. 

A voice startled you. “Your time has almost come to an end.”

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.

You screamed so loud you felt your vocal cords would snap. 

Dong. 

—

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/N!” You gasped as you came awake, Max’s hands on your shoulders shaking you, trying to get you to wake up. You felt the cold trickle of blood on your upper lip, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. 

“Jesus, thank God,” Max said, sitting down beside you. “What the hell was that?”

“I-I don’t know, Max.” 

“It was like you went into a trance or something. Your eyes rolled back and your nose started bleeding and you couldn’t hear a word I was saying. You wouldn’t respond to anything, and then you just, like, woke up.” Max went silent. “Did you… hear a clock, by any chance?” 

“Yeah, I did actually, how did you-?”

“Because I heard it too, last night. And I heard… you know what, nevermind. What did you want to talk to me about?” You were shocked. How could whatever this was be happening to Max, too?

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about, Max. What did you hear?” Max was quiet for a second before she replied. 

“I heard that clock… and… Billy,” she finally choked out. 

“I heard my dad… and my mom,” you shared, pausing a second before asking your next question. “What do you think is going on?” 

“I don’t know, but we need to tell them. You know we do.”

“But-”

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna go full Mom on us but it’ll be fine. We’re going through the same shit, we just… we need their help figuring out what it is.”

thank you so much for reading! i hope you guys enjoyed. :) part four coming out soon, hopefully tomorrow if i have time between this and my next fic!

<3

as always, asks are open! currently writing for eddie but if you have another specific request i might consider, so shoot your shot. :)

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[danoscigarette]

Eli Sunday x f!Reader

Chapter III - Set my Body Free

Summary: the day of your baptism, you are left alone with Eli for a private service. It is up to the pastor to save your eternal soul, except for the fact that the Reader soon learns of Eli’s true intentions.

Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, religious practice/guilt, slapping, manipulation, 18+

A/N: its finally here! The wait is over and the writers block defeated 💪

"Eli, I want you to put the fear of god in that woman"

Friday rolled on like a storm, much faster than you wished it to; ever since the incident with your step-father, you had remained in your room, isolated from the rest of the family. All you could do was sit, sleep or stare out of the window, dreading what was coming. Joe arranged to have you meet with Eli one-on-one for what seemed like an exorcism, to turn you into a submissive, God fearing woman that is worthy of marriage. It was of course to get you out of their hair, for your family to finally know peace. Joe wanted to wash his hands clean of you and give you to someone else to deal with so he can "focus on being a devoted husband" to your mother. You even considered the possibility that it was all for the best, to never being the burden of the family, never having to face Joe again and perhaps even settling for a man who is somewhat kind to you. Literally anything is better than this physical and emotional prison.

You lay there in your bed, the sun had only just risen above the horizon, the sky a brilliant shade of orange which reflected off the miles of dirt and weeds; you stayed there for what felt like hours, watching the sky become more and more blue - with each passing shade, drew closer the foreboding Eli, that damned pastor.  

Your thoughts dissolve when you hear a hesitant knock at the door. Without moving, you welcome them in. 

"Y/N...its time" it was your mother, her voice was hoarse as if she’d been weeping. Only turning your head you look to her, giving her a knowing nod. She takes a step back at the sight before her, your eyes were so red and eye bags darker than they were before; she knew you had spent the entire night crying. She felt utterly helpless, yet totally convinced that what is to happen will be your salvation. 

You were forced to wear a hideous white dress, an old laced rag that symbolised purity and innocence; qualities you had believed to be untrue about yourself. It was in yours and your family's mind that you would be baptised again, which was kind of confirmed but with one strange condition: it would be private. In cases of emergency baptisms, they can be performed without witnesses but you found it odd that Eli requested for an isolated ceremony; your family didn't even blink an eye when they were told this - you suppose that's what happens when you are desperate, religious sheep. Eli had justified a hidden baptism to save your family's reputation, of course no further explanation needed after that point. 

Apparently it took a good few hours of convincing Joe to not be present on the morning of your baptism, your mother said it would be a terrible start to your new sin-free life. You certainly felt grateful at this, if you had to look at him again anytime soon and you'd probably kill him. 

The bell tolls, it was 8am when you arrived at the church, staring up at the shack of a building, you are breathless. You didn't quite know what to expect, part of you hoped that it would be a quick ceremony, you say a few lines, get a splash of water and be done with it; heck, you wouldn’t even have to believe what you were saying. 

“Now darlin’ this is where we leave you. Me and your sisters will be back at the barn; Pastor Eli said that he will deliver you to us a new woman” your mother squeezes your shoulders, you gulp in response and nod your head. 

You don’t turn your head around to watch your family walk away and get into their carriage; you stood there unmoving like a frightened doe. The church was in an isolated part of Little Boston, so it was just going to be you and Eli for however long the ceremony lasts for. This was the first time you were without one of your family members, for as long as you were faithless, you had to be chaperoned by at least one other person - now, you were completely alone, and this utterly terrified you. 

You enter the church, ensuring that the door was firmly closed behind you, looking around there was no sign of Eli. You let out an audible shiver, the anticipation getting the better of you; you decide to sit at one of the benches - coincidentally, it was the bench you had sat last Sunday. 

“Ahem” 

You turn your head to look behind you, Eli stood sheepishly by the door; he wore a very smart uniform with hair slicked back and the same cross he wore the day you met him around his neck. Immediately taking a stand you curtsy, having no idea what to do or say. 

“M-Mr Sunday I do apologise, I didn’t see you there”

“It is fine child, please” Eli sat beside you and took your hands in his. 

‘Child?’ He was barely any older than yourself. 

“Do you know why you are here?” His eyes search yours, you held your breath as you take note of his murky green irises; they were strangely enchanting. 

“I…am faithless” there was silence that hung for a few moments, Eli assessed your words and sucked air through his teeth. 

“The church of the third revolution has no choice but to restore your faith and must cleanse you of your sins" Eli pulls you up and takes you to the centre platform where he gently presses your shoulder down. “On your knees”

You do as you are told, your eyes never leaving Eli’s. You felt so vulnerable and so unsure about this whole thing. You could run, scream even but you were obedient, like an invisible force was pulling at your strings; something about the way he commanded you to your knees made you quiver. 

"I have seen your rage and it is the devil…I can see it in your eyes…your soul…such a wrathful spirit in the body of someone so beautiful - the Lord can only weep” 

You don’t answer, your breaths shallow and mouth slightly agape. 

“Just so you know, before we begin…it might get…intense. Any violence acted here upon this day is the energy that God has given me”

“Violence?” You squeak

“Passion, Y/N. Be not afraid for ye shalt be greater for it” 

You certainly were more scared now, what on earth did he mean? Was it going to be like what you saw on Sunday…but worse? You purse your lips, giving an unsure nod. Eli was a tall man, but whilst on your knees he towers above you, a strange feeling grows in your stomach. 

“Then we shall begin”

The ceremony started off calmly, Eli had whispered a few bible passages to you, circling you with a bowl of water and spraying you with his fingers. He took special note of the water droplets that ran down your face, for some reason it made his entire body stiff and his cock twinge.

“Submit yourself therefore to God. Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, sinner…” Eli kneels down to you, grasping your hands in a firm hold. The same tone of voice he used on Sunday returns, a loud yell as he shakes your wrists. “…and purify your heart” Eli suddenly presses a hand to your heart, it was so close to your chest that you let out a quick yelp; Eli took this as a sign that this was working. 

Your heart beats are so fast, your eyes bewildered and your breath trembles. For whatever reason, the fact you were both alone and so close felt more overwhelming than it did with a room full of shouting people. The familiar forbidden arousal itches between your legs, you may not be feeling a spiritual experience, but it was as strong as one. 

“What say you? Do you feel the power of God within you?” Eli shouts, his hand remaining on your heart, he can feel you trembling beneath him like you did before. 

“Yes” you whisper a lie, you definitely felt something; you had half a mind to believe it was the Holy Spirit, but you new truly it was a dark desire. 

“The Lord cannot hear you!” Eli yells once more 

“Yes Eli please! I can feel it!” You grip at Eli’s suit, pulling him closer. 

“With my righteous hand I condemn your sins, I banish the devil, the parasite sucking at your soul…” with said hand he pulls at the air, tugging an invisible rope that is coming out of you. “The devil lingers in you no more!” Eli carries on shouting, its high pitched and aggressive. His hand continues to wave in the air as if pulling out Satan. At this point, you were lost in the moment, convinced by Eli’s words you finally succumb to his passion.

“And by GOD-!” Eli brings down his hand a little too aggressively, you hear a long rip at your dress to see it tear open and reveal the skin of your shoulder and part of your breast. Eli froze. It’s true that whenever he’s in the moment he gets carried away but…it was almost like fate, a sign from God. 

Eli stares at you, you are whimpering a little with terror and arousal; the air was so thick that you could cut it. He attempts to composed himself, seeing your exposed shoulder was his undoing; he took a sharp inhale before considering his next words carefully. 

“But every man is tempter, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished bringeth forth death” He was speaking to himself this time, the rational side of him begging to stunt his desires.

“For everything in the world - the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life - comes not from the Father, but from the world”. His face is impossibly close to yours now, it took everything in your power to not push forward an inch and claim him. 

But to your surprise, it was Eli who rushed forward, feverishly kissing your lips. Your eyes widened, a mewl leaving your throat but never pulling away; your hands found his face and pulled him closer into you. The kiss was clumsy yet full of longing, it wasn’t bad to say the least. 

Eli’s hand reaches for your dress and rips it further open and you allowed it. His lips never leaving yours, he experimentally messages your breast, his boney fingers sink into your flesh as he lets out a pained groan.

You responded with a moan of your own, disconnecting yourself from his mouth and looking at him with pure lust. You suppose that this ceremony has worked both of you up, but you never would have guessed that the good Christian boy would have it in him. 

You didn’t complain however, never in your life had you experienced a kiss let alone this sort of passion. As Eli toyed at your breast, you instinctively rub your legs together, causing friction to your clit, needing more and more. 

“Eli” you breathed, he shudders at your voice saying his name “I need you…” you wrap an arm around his waist to pull him between your legs; you feel him wobble. He is hesitant at first, although this was always his intentions, he realises the weight of the situation - he was about to give into temptation - but looking at you…it will all be worth it. 

“By the grace of God, this is your baptism” he merely whispers this declaration under his breath, kissing along your neck and jaw. Daring not to leave you, he reaches for the bowl and wets his thumb in the water. “In the name of the father…” he begins drawing a cross on your forehead, his crotch digging into your further. “The son…and the Holy Spirit” you grab Eli’s face and pull him into another heated kiss, his hands return to touching you anywhere and everywhere - he just needs to feel you. 

“Amen” you smile. Needing to feel more of him, you pull your dress up more, a leg slipping in between Eli’s, he’s rock hard through his pants. It’s so lewd, so erotic; if this is what usually happens during baptism, you’d have a baptism every damn day. You roll your knee against him and he jolts up - that was a misjudged action. 

Eli’s hand is harsh around your throat, as much as he enjoyed the feeling of you playing with him; he is ultimately the one in control here. 

“Break the spirit and mend the soul; it is God’s will to mould you into that which is clean and pure” even on the edge of exploding, he spews his faith into you, and you let him, soaking up his words like a sponge. 

“Eli please” you just about make out, pathetically clawing at his veiny hands for release. It didn’t stop him however, instead he brought his other hand under your skirt, gliding his fingers up your thigh and close to your pelvis. You could roll your eyes back at the gentle touch alone. 

Finally, his hand ghosts over your clothed pussy, you buckle your hips into his hand in hopes of feeling something more; the hunger in your lower abdomen is insatiable. 

“Patience…the Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” The harder the grip around your neck, the more you felt light headed; this was a torture to you. Eli hooks his hand under your panties and swipes his middle finger across your slit - it could absolutely have been the lack of oxygen but you started to feel it, that spiritual experience your family spoke about, you finally understood. ‘Wet already…all for me?’ He smiled to himself. 

Feeling a little more braver, Eli sinks another finger into you, drawing up and down your folds until he feels your clit to which you whine profusely. He relishes in your little noises, the way your lip quivers when he rolls the pad of his finger over your pulsating nub. 

“You’re doing so well, love” he rolls your clit between his fingers, circling them and teasing you in all the right places, your moans turn into a pleasurable sob; the knot tightens and coils - all you want is release.  

“E…Li…” you begin to lose consciousness. Without him realising, his grip on you was like iron, Eli finally releases you - you jolt up and take in a sharp breath of air. Both of your hands claw at Eli’s suit, it was all getting too much. “I’m gunna-I’m gunna-”

“Come undone Angel” were the only words you had to hear combined with a final swipe over your clit to let go completely. Your entire body felt like hot, liquid glass and your loins throbbed; you begin to see a growing bright light through your tears. 

“Fuuuuck Eli!” You came hard, biting into his shoulder to release some of the pressure; Eli welcomed it, no, took great pleasure in feeling your teeth sink into him. It was so animalistic, so raw and feral - something neither of you had experienced before. 

Eli’s hand remained on your cunt, you were impossibly wet now and he could feel you convulse around his fingers. He did that, all of that by himself; his greatest achievement. With the other hand, Eli held you in an embrace, listening to your breaths slow and come down to a normal speed. Your cheeks a fiery red and your body ached. 

“Eli…” you held onto him tightly out of comfort, you couldn’t quite believe what you were about to say. “Please…take me” 

“If it means that the Lord also takes you…then yes” 

“Yes - I accept him” a half lie this time, you could kick yourself for your obedience but you couldn’t resist it; you needed Eli to fuck you till you saw Jesus Christ himself. 

And with that, Eli laid you down, it wasn’t very comfortable but you didn’t care. You removed your dress and undergarments, laying naked before your pastor. His eyes are wide and irises blown; this was the first time he had ever seen a naked woman and you were a heavenly sight. His gaze couldn’t decide where to look, moving from over your breasts, to your lips and to your soaked cunt; all ready for him. 

“Will you kiss me?” The tone in your voice gives away your nerves, you were a virgin after all with little to no sex education from your family - you certainly hadn’t expected it to be like this. Eli obliges and hovers over your form, kissing your lips a little more lovingly than before, you could tell he was just as anxious as you. 

“I’ve never-” Eli stops himself, his face says it all and you give him a sympathetic yet encouraging smile. 

“Me neither” 

Eli takes a gulp before pulling away from you, unbuttoning his trousers he releases his cock; an impressive size (not that you would know) but it certainly wasn’t small and had a good girth to it. Your eyes traced over the curve and the thick vein that rain alongside it, as Eli revealed more and more - your lips water and your pussy throbs just looking at it. 

He finally pushes forward, resting his tip at your entrance, he gives you a quick glimpse to gage whether you were okay with it - the look on your face is enough confirmation, you were pleading him with your eyes to continue. Inch after inch he pushed in you, it was initially a tight and stinging pain, though never had you felt this full in your entire life. The only thing is…Eli was being too slow about it. You impatiently bring your calves up behind and pulled him into you with a blissful force; it was tender at first but soon subsided when hearing Eli’s surprised moan. 

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…” he whispers to himself, allowing you to adjust to his length. Eli knew he wouldn’t last long, you felt euphoric around him, any small movement sent sparks through his body and he intended to savour the moment. 

When you were both ready, Eli took an experimental thrust, filling you full to the hilt - he could feel his tip kiss your cervix so deliciously he could bust then and there. Another thrust, and then another until he found a comfortable pace. His breaths are rapid and his moans even louder; this was not a quiet man after all. Tears pinprick both of your eyes and you allowed yourselves to give into the bliss of the moment. 

“Do you accept God’s love and salvation?” He chokes out, still determined to save your soul, religion was the last thing on your mind but you nodded in agreement - the same white light comes to your vision; perhaps it was God. Without warning Eli slaps your face, waking you from your trance. “I said do you accept God’s love and salvation?” 

“Yes-Yes I do Eli please fill me with the Holy Spirit” you scream, your nails scratching into him, you were so close again. 

“You feel so good, fu- so so good for me” Eli’s hips buckle and break his pace, it was sloppy and extremely clumsy now, coming ever so close to spilling. It was this change of momentum did it tip you over the edge, clamping down on his cock, you let out a long shrill of pleasure. As your whole body hot and pulsing against Eli, he took it as an opportunity to empty himself into you as deep as he could go - rope after rope he filled your insides with his seed. 

“Jesus Christ” his head drops to the crook of your neck, his hair messy and sticking to his sweating forehead. That was the single most erotic, pleasurable and intense experience either of you had ever felt. Pulling out, Eli watches his cum drip out of you before flopping onto his back by your side. He rests a hand on his chest as he stares at the ceiling, coming down from his high.

You however were still pulsating and sore, overwhelmed with everything once again but in the most beautiful and confusing way. You held onto his shirt, needing to feel somewhat close to him in this moment. A few moments of golden silence passes, your afterglows dimming and sober thoughts return to the forefront of your minds. 

“You know now...what must be done" Eli huffs, brushing his hair from his forehead. Your hand still gripping onto his shirt, you pull him to meet your confused gaze. 

"W-what?"

"Marriage" 

"MARRIAGE?" You shove him away, scowling at the man. He looks a little hurt at your clear objection before coughing to clear his throat. 

"We have committed a sin here today. It was a necessity to save your soul but...premarital sex is unacceptable as it is seen as adulterous to your husband or wife that you will marry. It can only be rectified if we were wed" Eli's voice was soft and cool, one could say controlled; He had to be careful here.

You thought for a long hard moment, processing the situation. It was madness, it was obscene - how could the man who claimed to save you have only trapped you further. You almost laugh at yourself, allowing the thought of 'if he's that good then he might be worth keeping', but even so, marrying someone so outrightly religious would go against everything you've stood for. 

"Had you considered this before we did this?" Your eyes searched his, you could blame the afterglow but there was a part of you that hoped he did; the other was condemning him for this manipulation. 

"Yes, and without hesitation"

You felt your cheeks heat once more. Despite being sought after by men, their cowardice after meeting you was somewhat regrettable, so a man who still desires you even after seeing you for who and what you are was refreshing for lack of a better word.  

"I wish you had made your intentions clear before tying myself to you" 

"In hindsight it would have been kinder..." he begins, reaching a hand forward to hold yours, you allow him the touch and time to speak. "Y/N, I wish to see you grow and to allow me to guide you into the light. I am but a humble pastor, but with God's grace and my determination I could be a good husband; if given the chance"

"And if I say no?" Your question was colder than it was intended, but you meant it. 

"Then we are both damned"

You had to push down a smug smile, the realisation donned on you that he needed you more than you needed him. You weren't concerned with life after death, in your eyes you had committed enough sin that you'll be going to hell regardless; but it was Eli's strong belief that if he does not marry you, he will be cursed with no redemption. His risk was greater than yours; this gave you leverage, this gave you power over him. 

"I have one condition" You lift yourself up to your knees, pushing Eli down onto his back, you straddle him. His breath hitches, watching your naked form move over him. 

"Which is?" Eli's breath is shaken with a tone of curiosity and desperation. 

"You say you want me to grow..." you gyrate on his crotch, despite only cumming moments ago you could feel him harden beneath you once more. "And nothing means more to me than freedom..." you speak as you undo each of Eli's buttons, in return, his hands dig into your hips and pushes into you to cause more friction. "I wonder if this good little church boy is going to let me do whatever I please...just so he can get this anytime he wishes?" You bring a hand down to stroke his fully hard erection, rubbing it against your clit as you let a drawn out moan from your lips. 

Eli curses you under his breath, secretly loving everything that you're doing, and you could tell. 

"Tell me Eli...for this cunt will you do anything for me?"

"Y-yes-!" It was almost painful for him to speak through his moans, you were getting off on this pathetic sight. Just as he thought it was easy to break you...you had completely turned the tables. Once this man had tasted pussy, it was game over - he was the one to break this time. 

"Tell me Eli, that if you let me have my freedom then I will give my mind, body and soul to God...and to you...tell me now or I will walk out this church and never return" you mewl, the tip of Eli's cock so dangerously close to entering you. 

"Yes oh God, I will let you have anything, do anything, say anything just for this - please!" He tries he damned hardest to pull you down onto him, his actions are feverish and defeated. With a smile of satisfaction, you grant him the pleasure of inserting his cock into you. Letting out a strangled groan, you move your hips slowly, drawing out noises from Eli that you'd never heard from a man before. 

"Then I am yours" you whisper before picking up the pace, bobbing up and down his shaft.

“Break the spirit and all that, am I right Eli?” You breathily laugh, he is an absolute mess. The man looks like he could cry he felt so good; you felt triumphant and extremely turned on to the change of power dynamic - you could get used to this. 

“Angel please-I’m so close”

“Already dear husband?” Your hand meets his throat, you can feel his Adam’s apple move as he yelps. Religious gilt fully kicking in now, he lets a tear run down his face but by God, he wouldn’t be anywhere else in this moment. You wipe away the droplet on his cheek with your thumb “Eli love, was it not God that said Be fruitful, and multiply? We are just a little early~” you purr, Eli gives you a little nod before pulling your hips back down to his. “Good boy” you smile, oh what a vision Eli thought; he needed to see you like this more often. 

It took a good few minutes of bouncing on his dick did Eli finally bottom out, unleashing a guttural moan as he painted your insides white. Your whole body ached, it had been a while since you were that active (especially after a good few days of moping in your room). You lay across his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head and stroke your back. 

“You will be the death of me” he pants, smiling as he clung tightly to you. 

“You know, I could be pregnant…after this” you let out a half laugh half sigh, Eli’s eyes widen, riddled with panic. You let out another laugh and roll over to face him. “I suppose we could be married earlier than expected” you tried to be brave in this moment, the likelihood that you were pregnant was low, but not impossible. The thought of marriage and a child so soon was…sickening. Your whole life was flipped and turned upside down ever since you came to Little Boston, for better or for worse. 

This was your life now, whether you wanted it or not. The only plus to the whole thing was that the first time having sex was a pleasurable one and that you would explore more with your soon to be husband. He had a pretty good dick, very talented with his fingers and was a passionate, well loved man; you could certainly do with worse. With this acceptance, you place your hands on either side of Eli’s face and give him a long, loving kiss. 

“I promise to always protect and respect you…so long as you’ll let me?” He whispers into your lips, it sounded so genuine and sweet that you could cry. 

“I am a changed woman Eli, of course I’ll let you” 

#paul dano #eli sunday #eli sunday x reader #there will be blood #danonation #danocel

[whitesuited]

press days are always a little more chaotic than she’d like ----------------- and while she’s somewhat gotten used to the push and pull that goes along with them ( being able to withstand block after block of the same shallow questions one after another until she feels as if her brain is about to toss it’s figurative hands up in protest and check out on her has to be somewhere in her supe skillset, she’s sure of it ), the simple fact that she and @antisupe​ are pulled in opposite directions these days still feels a bit raw -------------- especially when knowing that stan’s the one who insists on signing off on the final schedule before the day’s itineraries are distributed.

which means the slower - than - usual pace in which she’s getting herself ready this morning is extremely deliberate; and the fact that leon’s decided to use her suite for his own pre - press base camp certainly isn’t going to motivate her to hurry either one of them along in the slightest. still, despite her best efforts to channel their peer ‘the human sloth’ she’s a little further along than he is -------- reappearing in her bathroom to watch herself pull the zipper up the length of her catsuit while he’s still occupied on his half of the mirror making sure the edge of his beard is sharp enough for her to cut herself on the next time she decides to press her lips against it.

she reaches around him with a hum for her makeup kit, the hand she places on his hip to steady herself itching to grab hold of the towel he’s got wrapped around his waist and give it a good tug ------------------- but doing so will only result in a highspeed chase back to the bedroom and an all - but - guarantee that they’ll both be no - shows for the rest of the day. instead, she has to at least pretend that her little bag of tricks has her complete attention; rummaging around the contents until she pulls out her much loved tube of mary quant and leans in towards the mirror ( once again, taking as much time as she can ) to paint on a pair of bright red lips.

the tip of her finger traces along the line of her bottom lip a few times when she’s done; partially out of necessity for a clean line, and partially because she can see him sneaking a look in the mirror’s reflection. she straightens back up eventually, pressing her lips together a few times and re - checking the line; going about it all like she hadn’t noticed him watching her little routine. “linda’s probably on her way to come collect me, i should get going.” the tube of lipstick gets tossed back in with the rest of her kit with a bit of a flourish ( the kind that makes it obvious she did notice him noticing her ), before she pivots on her toes and heads back into her adjoining bedroom ------------- but only for a moment.

          “oh! i almost forgot to blot,” she announces her reappearance in the bathroom with a lilt in her voice and a ‘silly - little - me’ grin now in a ruby - colored frame. but instead of reaching for a kleenex or a square of toilet tissue she comes up on his left and reaches up for his chin. the first kiss catches the side of his neck, just below his freshly trimmed five - o - clock shadow, the second finding the edge of his jaw ------------ both leaving red heart - shaped marks on skin and stubble alike; two places she knows he won’t be able to wash off in  what little time he’s already got to get himself in his suit and down to the lobby for payback’s latest appearance.

not that she wants him to be able to --------------- its a nice little way to say ‘mine’ without needing to shout it from the rooftop of vought tower.

          “tell barbie i said hi, hm?”

#antisupe #✬ ◟ answered. ⁞ 𝚒𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡. #✬ ◟ antisupe. ⁞ 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎. #✬ ◟ your heart is a weapon the size of your fist. ⁞ 𝚍𝚢𝚗 ♡ 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎. #alexa play the boy is mine by brandy and monica #we both know she's petty enough to do this #and he'd go in there and sell TF out of it

[andre4785]

Dabwoods Disposable | Dabwoods Official Website | Dabwoods

To connect the dabwood disposables drain outlet, slide the new rubber washer over the the pipe and onto the flanged end of the plastic crosspiece, then slide the metal flange on from the other end. Tip the bottom of the metal flange into its slot in the disposal/disposer and tighten the fastening bolt through the top of the flange. Make the rest of the drain connections. When all the connection are made, tighten the three bolts on the flange evenly until most of the putty is squeezed out, and the sink flange is tight and centered. Clean off the excess putty. Congratulations once you put back all that stuff you took out from under the sink when we started your done! I hope this was helpful and good luck. It is certainly tempting to just dump everything into the big hole in the sink and flip the switch, but that is asking for trouble. I actually know of one situation where a guy was dropping eggshells down his dabwoods disposables. He must have eaten a lot of eggs because the crushed up shells coated the inside of his kitchen drain pipe and finally stopped it up entirely. The entire drain pipe wound up having to be replaced. you think your dabwood disposables sounds odd it probably means there is a foreign object like your car keys, (Bless little Johnnies heart he just did not know what he was doing). Turn off the disposal look under the sink to see how the disposal is plugged in if it is a regular pug then unplug it. Obviously, if you can not see a plug than you should find a way to cover or block access to the switch for your garbage disposal while your hands are in it. You may want to stick something other than your hands in the disposal at first just assure your self there are now monsters a broom handle works great of course the broom handle can help with freeing the disposal you will need to clean the visible parts of your garbage dumper. The simplest way to do this is spreading the dish washing solution onto a brush. And then start scrubbing the surface and the visible edges of the dabwoods disposable with it and also use the brush on the part of the disposal where the rim is connected to the sink, as there might be small food residuals which can give off bad smelling and might cause bacteria as well if not removed duly.

#dabwoods disposable dabwood disposables

[raeesadarsot]

Blog 4: Advice to my future self as a person and as an OT

The last blog topic as a 3rd year Occupational Therapy student is one that’s forcing me ponder a little harder about…how would I advise my future self as an OT & a person in general?

During our fieldwork days as OT students, we spend a lot of time advising our clients on ways to improve, whilst considering all of their strengths and weaknesses. We also spend time advising our fellow classmates when things become overwhelming for them, or just about life’s challenges. But as I sit here trying to think of what I would tell my future self, I realise that regarding advice - it’s sometimes easier said than done.

As students, it’s never just about focusing on our studies until our degrees are complete - there are a million other obstacles that we have to overcome while juggling an often challenging degree. So my first advice to my future OT self from my past self, and probably the most important one is - never succumb to life’s challenges, no matter the magnitude. Every single person faces difficulties, but it will never be beyond what we can bear. To quote my beautiful religion’s holy book, “God does not charge a soul except (with that within) its capacity” - The Quran. To put this simply, there will always be some challenge or the other but it will never be bigger than what I can handle, so never giving up is the best way to overcome it.

My next advice to myself as an OT but as a normal person too is, never give up on anyone. Prior to starting my degree in Occupational Therapy, when someone made a mistake that affected me or a loved one directly or caused some type of harm to us, I would often just “wash my hands off them” so to speak. I would never directly retaliate and harm them in return, but I would just avoid them at all costs. After studying the different parts of OT (such as psychology and the things that affect someone’s behaviour) and hearing tales from various clients on fieldwork, I realise that my approach was wrong. Sometimes if we lucky, the client we meet at the beginning of a block and that same client that we leave at the end of fieldwork are worlds apart. Their improvements with a little guidance and by just getting a chance to develop into their best selves are astonishing. So, I will keep reminding myself that everyone deserves a chance to change. No one is perfect, not you and definitely not me - it’s human nature. So allow others to make mistakes as long as they grow from them.

Find a healthy coping mechanism. This is my next advice to my future self. Currently, my coping mechanism is to sleep or cry whenever I’m overwhelmed. While sleeping may be essential to survival, in my case it wastes a lot of time that I could have instead used on something productive. With crying, the occasional tears is a healthy reset to the body - if anyone else has used this as a coping mechanism, they would be familiar to that light-hearted feeling after a good cry. However, I don’t see either of these being long-term solutions to survival. As the years progress, there will be new obstacles to face and potentially more challenging ones. Finding a healthy way to handle these challenges will be crucial to avoid burn-out. This piece of advice is one that I have already started exploring but one that I always need to keep reminding myself to implement.

In life, we are always moulded by change and developing as we age. My final advice to my future self is, always strive to achieve self-actualisation. Self-actualisation is the highest level of psychological development that one can achieve. It is reaching our fullest potential while also remembering our limitations. In essence, it is having full occupational balance. I have many different goals for the future. My OT goal is to become a Paediatric Occupational Therapist and open up my own practice as a safe space for all my little clients. I will always aim to treat any child, without being driven by any financial gain. Some of my other goals are to improve as a Muslim, make my parents proud for the rest of my life, be an incredible wife to my future husband and raise my kids in a loving, healthy environment. These are only a small portion of my goals and to me, none of them are impossible. But I must reflect on my limitations as a human being. That is the only way I can ever achieve true self-actualisation.

Like I said, advice is often easier said than done so when pondering all of the above, I often reminded myself to be realistic. I know that my future self will face many challenges and some might even push me to limits I’ve never been pushed. However, I will think back at this particular blog and remind myself to never succumb to a challenge, never give up on myself or others, try to cope in a healthy way and ALWAYS aim for self-actualisation.

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts as a 3rd year OT student. I hope the advice I have for my future self will also benefit you in some way.

- Raeesa 🫶

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[steamberrystudio]

23/01/2021

Hey everyone! Time for the last tumblr update of January. It's been a busy two weeks, so here we go!

Summary:

Edited 6-7 CGs

Completed all Jack CGs, all Lance CGs and some Magnus CGs (So about 6 or so CGs completed)

Finished Quill Ch 2

Started revamping the glossary

Sent steam page for review

The Ramble:

First of all - CG edits.

I have been going back to tweak older CGs off and on for a while now and in the past couple of weeks I went back and edited quite a few CGs. In some cases the edits were because I didn't like the CGs, in other cases, I changed the scene up a little and had to make continuity fixes to things like character outfits. My style has shifted a bit since I first started the game as well and there were a few CGs where it was particularly noticeable, so I fixed those as well.

And in one case I noticed I just flat out forgot to shade one character's eyes. So I needed to fix that.

Eventually, even if I'm not totally happy with a CG, I do have to set it down and walk away and wash my hands of it because I cannot reasonably edit CGs forever. At some point a CG has to be "done." Sometimes I get to the point that I can't even tell if I'm fixing anything anymore or if it's flaws in new and exciting ways. LoL

Ultimately though I do want the CGs to be as good as they can be so I do revisit old CGs occasionally and have been doing that a lot in the last couple of weeks.

In addition to that I have completed all of Jack's remaining CGs, all of Lance's CGs and one (and a half) of Maggie's remaining CGs - he has two left to complete. One is about half finished - still need to finish rendering the characters in it.

The other is in a rough sketch state at the moment so the staging and composition are blocked in but I still need to do the final line art and colour it.

Then, of course, both of those have to be recoloured and coded.

Once these two CGs are done that is all of the CGs for the first release.

52 CGs. 8 per love interest + 1 of Morgan and 1 intro CG each for Yuu, Reuben, and Quill.

I have so many regrets (in terms of. . .deciding that this much work was something I could handle. Because it was something I could handle. But just. And with a lot of pain killers. And heat packs. And other treatments to get me through the very real pain I've inflicted upon myself.) But. . .ITS DONE (almost).

Moving on from CGs. . .

I also spent a day working on a new cover art for the game. I was setting up the steam page, which requires approximately 1.1 million images, each one with unique dimensions. (Thanks, I hate it.)

I just realised that using the sprite art really wasn't going to work for these images. I couldn't cram 9 love interests into the various "capsules" and "covers" and banners and headers. . .and Morgan's sprite alone just doesn't really give enough of an idea what this game is like.

So I really needed an image that was more versatile, more interesting than just Morgan's sprite.

So I made that. And then made my 1.1 million images with their annoyingly unique dimensions and uploaded them. And sent the page for review. Steam is always an adventure so we'll see how long it takes to get the page reviewed and set up. (I really just put in the basic information and may try to spruce it up later on. . .)

In regards to actual game development. . .

I have also been working on revamping the glossary screens and writing up some new glossary entries. Finishing the glossary is really going to be the next major thing I try to finish, I think. I still have a lot of other small polishing things (adding in some SFX and stuff) but the glossary is kind of the biggest remaining feature to finish. And I want to spruce it up a bit since what is there right now is. . .functional. But not necessarily what I want to have in the final game.

So that is on the horizon once I finish up the CGs. BUT will probably happen after I implement all the corrections the beta testers have offered up and sent out a new beta version with all the CGs in it so that we can verify they are working correctly.

Lastly, I have done some writing. Not a lot since I'm focused elsewhere, but I did finish Quill's second chapter and have started editing the outline for his third chapter so I can get started on that as well.

So yeah. Busy two weeks. But we are getting there.

Sneak Peeks and Previews:

Upcoming Weeks:

I did want to be done with CGs by the time I posted this but I'm still 1.5 CGs away from completion. I didn't account for - editing a ton of CGs and doing new art for Steam, etc. I will definitely finish up CGs this week.

And then with those out of the way will have to really start focusing on detailed to-do lists so I don't forget any of the small things needing to be done.

Very close. My spreadsheet says we are ~98% of the way there.

#upcoming game #otome #amaregame #english visual novel #oelvn #gilded shadows #updates

[english8muffin]

Vogue morning routine

Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup

Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party

Word count: around 2000

Warning: none, just pure floof!

I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)

HEADLINE Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.

You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.

This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.

You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.

You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”

You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.

Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.

“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”

You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.

Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.

The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”

You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.

You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.

“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”

Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.

“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.

Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.

“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.

You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.

Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.

“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.

You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.

“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?

Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”

WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.

Much love, Nahmi xxx

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[yeojaa]

feed me, fight me.

pairing.  boxer!jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!).  wc. 3.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, always.  💖  author note.  i’m really into comfort fics rn so... 

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out.  It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut.  It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking.  It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness.  It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space. 

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason?  When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)?  How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more? 

“Cut it out,”  he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare.  A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright.  It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension. 

“Cut what out?”  Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye. 

“What’s your problem?”  How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure.  All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab.  He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead. 

(You probably are.  You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth.  They wear you, rather than you it.  A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.” 

“Shut up.”  It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand.  He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way. 

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you?  When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion.  You’re just mad.  Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,”  you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward.  He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook. 

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg. 

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment.  It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground.  By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb. 

“Are you serious?”  You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable.  (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.)  “What’s your issue?”  He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation.  It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love.  That you hate.  That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst.  That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out.  That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary?  Unbearable?  Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.”  It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff.  It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need.  (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.)  Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.  

You’re tired.  Too tired.  Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom.  It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught).  You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room.  He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall. 

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day.  He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine.  Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening.  Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye. 

“I’m sorry.”  Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash.  “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.”  He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom.  You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.  

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy.  I’ve been stressed.”  Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly.  You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion.  “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.”  Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you.  You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me.  A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.  

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him.  Never has, likely never will.  He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away.  He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you.  Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless.  Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first.  Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you.  It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest.  Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”  

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on.  There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour.  He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together.  “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too.  His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.  

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight.  Hates it, in fact.  It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly.  A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you.  Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook.  Push too hard, he’ll leave.  

“Couldn’t sleep without you.”  It’s true enough.  Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear.  (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up.  That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light.  “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things.  What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way.  You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up.  Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one.  He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away.  It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.  

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground.  Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”  

“You were pissed earlier.”  There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield.  You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand.  “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”  

“I shouldn’t have,”  you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt.  “But you know I hate going to bed angry.”  Of course he knows.  He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out. 

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing.  Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does.  Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next. 

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain.  (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)  

“Don’t.”

One blink.  Another.  Slow and confused - deliberately so.  Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move.  The ring might be his domain but home is yours;  it’s the one place you hold the upper hand.  “What?”  

“Don’t leave.”  It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink.  It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.  

“I need to shower.”  

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win. 

“Just wait.”  Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love.  He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh.  The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,”  he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away.  Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder.  “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.”  Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does.  (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for.  You want communication, open and honest.  You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering.  It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.  

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.  

“Do you wanna shower?”  You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together.  You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different.  He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream.  It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair. 

“Babe?”  

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes.  You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do.  When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.  

“Can you wash my hair?”  An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows.  He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you. 

It’s a sign if there ever was one. 

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands.  They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits.  He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes. 

When was the last time you’d done this?  Weeks ago?  Months, maybe?  You honestly can’t recall.  (Not that it matters now.  You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night.  Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you.  You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation. 

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands.  Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise.  He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.  

You’d give it every single day if you could.  Had, in fact. 

That’s what’d brought you here, after all. 

“‘m sorry,”  he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad. 

“For what?” 

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with.  Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.  

You want to be let in.  Need it. 

“Being out of it, I guess.”  It’s a lot for him - admitting this.  “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“  The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.  

“Forgot about me?”  You don’t mean it meanly.  It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face. 

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would.  But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller. 

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.”  Maybe more than some people.  Maybe less than others.  “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“No, I know.”  

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin.  He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,”  he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his.  “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.” 

“On us,”  you correct, not at all tactful.  

“On us,”  he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space. 

“We’re a team, you know.” 

(You know he knows.  You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world.  That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.” 

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that.  He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.  

“I’m sorry,”  he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek.  “Just give me some time.”  For what, you’re not sure.  You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.  

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair.  Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.  

“Is this better?”  He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own. 

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else.  No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.  

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands.  He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven.  (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.) 

“Yes,”  you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort.  It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true.  Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind. 

In all the ways he can, he loves you.  And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out.  Not if it means more of this. 

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

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