#technically my brain says there should be a part 3 follow up to this too but we will see

[nuclearanomaly]

He didn't get the memo...

#ffxiv #Ninira Nira #Estinien #Estinien Wyrmblood #Estinien Varlineau #wolstinien #Y'shtola Rhul #G'raha Tia #woo! managed to finish my haha the gang enjoying chill dawntrail time comic before dawntrail comes out #the comic that I guess maybe could be considered a lore drop lmao #I mentioned this in passing recently and so many people came to scream WHAT at me #teehee :^) #it's okay graha you're not the only one (clearly) #and if I had done this right there would have been a comic before this one actually lmao #but maybe I can make that one happen too (doubt) (hopeful) #technically my brain says there should be a part 3 follow up to this too but we will see #art: mine

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 ★ || han j.s

★ summary: after nearly dying in the pool, you and han chill out together while you calm down. after you feel better, you watch as the boys have fun in the pool. later, you all are tasked to choose food ingredients without knowing what everyone else chose. you all cook the food together and then you all have a debate and get to know each other.

★ characters: bang chan, lee know, changbin, y/n (he/him pronouns, masculine frame), hyunjin, han, felix, seungmin, i.n

★ warnings: none that i can think of really, mentions of food and cooking, han is falling in love with the pretty reader :3, lee know and seungmin are onto han, mentions of jay why pee

★ word count: 2.6K (2663)

★ binnie's thoughts: welcome to part two of the mixtape series! uhm, i felt the need to start working on this right away, so pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or commenting!!

★ requested?: nope, just a continuation

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

After the nine of you– minus you, technically– finish swimming, you all venture inside to take  nice, hot showers and change into clean clothes before filming resumes. You’re seated on your bed, fresh out of the shower, your red-dyed hair dripping cold water onto your shoulders. You would grab your towel, but you’re too lazy to get up, honestly. You scroll through your phone, checking your socials when you hear a soft knock at the door. You turn your attention to the door before speaking:

“Come in!” you call out, and Jisung opens the door a bit, poking his head through. You chuckle at him, and you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Han?”

Han opens the door more, stepping inside the room. He fiddles with his hands, and you can tell he wants to say something, but his nerves are getting the best of him.

“It’s okay, I don’t bite.” you bark out a laugh, which makes Han chuckle. You smile wider, liking the sight of his toothy smile. 

“I just wanted to check up on you. You know, to make sure you’re okay after what happened earlier.” he says, finally looking at your face and not at his sock-clad feet. 

You hum before answering him, “Yeah, I’m all good. And tell Changbin-hyung not to beat himself up about pushing me. I should have told you all about my fear of water.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not anyone’s fault. It was just a tricky situation that went south real fast.” he says, and you nod with a shrug. “We’re all going downstairs to play games and sing. Wanna join us?” he asks and you can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Sure, sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll get to beat Felix at ping pong again.” you laugh as you stand, following Han to the downstairs area of the house. He chuckles as he walks beside you, and he can feel the warmth of your body touching his arm at your close proximity.

Once you step foot downstairs, you’re met with the gorgeous voice of Jeongin. He sounds amazing, and you can only wish to sound like him. You sit down on the bench behind where he and Seungmin are standing, just bobbing your head along to the music. You cross your legs as Han sits beside you, listening to the youngest member sing his little heart out. Once he finishes his song, you clap for him as Lee Know steps up to sing next. 

He picks a more upbeat song, which causes Han to jump up and begin jumping around, hyping up his (obviously his favorite) hyung. You laugh at the two of them, your stomach hurting from laughing so hard. You can only hope to be as close to them as they are to each other one day. Han can hear you laughing, and he wants to engrave the sound into his brain on repeat. 

Lee Know finishes his song and he looks around, wondering if anyone else wants to sing next. You bite your bottom lip, wanting to sing and show off your skills, but you don’t want to seem like you’re trying to upstage anyone. 

Fuck it, you decide and you get up, standing in between Han and Lee Know. You clear your throat, catching both of their attention. 

“Oh, you want a turn? Be my guest.” Lee Know says, handing you the microphone and the device to pick a song. You hope he doesn’t notice the shakiness of your hands as you take the device from him.

You search through the long selection of songs, before you get excited. You quickly choose the song “Song of Dann” by Kingdom. You honestly didn’t expect your audition song to be on the karaoke machine, but you’re elated about it. You sway from side to side as the song starts, and you close your eyes, a habit you have when you prepare to sing. Closing your eyes helps you get over the nervous jitters of performing in front of a crowd of people. You even do it when you’re singing in your room alone. You allow the music to take over you, the slow instruments burrowing into your ears, making you feel light and airy. 

You begin to sing, matching the pitch of the original singer almost perfectly. Your voice is a little deeper, and you often struggle with singing notes higher than your normal vocals. You start to get into it, the echo of the karaoke machine loud as it reverberates in the downstairs area of the house. 

Everyone stops what they’re doing to listen to you sing your heart out. They all feel moved by your performance, each and every one of them getting chills. They knew you could sing, but they didn’t know you could sing like that. Your eyes are screwed shut as you belt out the heartfelt lyrics. The lyrics are sad, full of emotions of heartbreak and pain. Han wonders why you chose a song like this. Did someone in your life hurt you? If it were me, I would never hurt you, he thinks to himself as he watches you.

When your mini-concert is over, you finally open your eyes, looking around you. You find everyone’s eyes on you, wide and shocked. You feel your ears get warm, and you laugh nervously. Why were they looking at you as if you had grown two heads? It made you nervous.

“Sorry. Was that too loud?” you ask, your hand coming up to tug at the short hairs at the nape of your neck. You take in everyone’s expressions, most of them showing shock. Your eyes land on Han, and you try to look away. You don’t want him to see your red ears. But the look on his face is hard to turn away from. 

His jaw is open a little, and you can see a little bit of the inside of his mouth. His eyes are wide, and you can clearly see the deep brown pools that are his eyes. He’s bare-faced, and you think he looks the most handsome like this. You both avert your eyes before you get caught staring. The rest of the boys would never let you live it down, you just know it. 

Changbin’s loud, gravelly voice snaps you out of your lovesick daze. “Are you joking?! That was fucking amazing!” he cheers, and then he cringes at the various groans from the camera crew. He bows in apology, his ears turning a nice shade of deep pink. 

You laugh softly at Changbin, shaking your head, “Thank you, hyung. I’m glad you enjoyed that mediocre performance.” you chuckle, earning a strangled noise from the older male. 

“Mediocre?” Han nearly screeches, causing everyone in the room to jump and express their complaints at the male’s loud noise. “That was nowhere near mediocre! You sang that song perfectly without vocal warmups! I could only wish to be able to do that!”

You wave him off as you watch Felix disappear upstairs. Where was he going? You decide not to dwell on it as you hand the microphone back to Lee Know. You walk over to the pool table and grab a cue. You watch as Changbin resets the pool balls. You honestly suck at pool, but Changbin doesn’t need to know that.

Soon enough, you are the last one downstairs. You sing another song by yourself until the staff motions for you to head upstairs. You go to where they tell you to go, and you’re surprised to see a table full of ingredients on it. You tilt your head and you hear a tapping noise to your left. You turn your head to see all the members standing behind glass walls, each of them pointing at the table. 

You can’t help but laugh at them frantically trying to communicate with you through glass walls. Lee Know is looking at the ingredient he wants you to choose, his eyes bugged out and wide. You feel your sides tense up from laughing so hard. 

You place your hand over a pack of various vegetables, looking at the eight guys. They all panic and shake their heads, some of them yelling, although it just looks like they’re yawning to you. You decide to tease them some more, and you place your hand over a carton of eggs. This time their reactions are neutral, a few of them giving you a thumbs up or a nonchalant shrug. 

You turn towards the camera, “Get a load of these guys. These are your boys, Stay?” you ask teasingly, running your hands through your hair, exposing your forehead. 

Han bites his lips as he watches you make a simple action look so effortlessly sexy. He knows his ears are red, but he’s too distracted by you to even care. He watches as you bite your bottom lip, tapping your chin as you consider your options. He thinks you look so attractive like this, your red hair fluffy from your shower, a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. You don’t have any makeup on, so he can clearly see the freckles and acne scars that litter your cheeks. He so desperately wants to kiss your cheeks, knowing it would make you laugh and push him away, telling him to stop. He wouldn’t stop, though.

You finally pick your ingredients, a pack of sausages that look so tasty to you. You make your way to the boys, all of you laughing at the crazy faces Lee Know and Seungmin were making. You imitated Lee Know’s crazy eyes, making Chan double over in laughter. 

You’re a little surprised by how comfortable you’ve become with these guys. You just met them a few hours ago, and here you are laughing and joking with them as if you’ve known your entire life. You actually start to believe that you belong in this group. 

You all grab the ingredients you picked, and you all start cooking together. You wouldn’t consider yourself the best chef in the entire world, but you’re at least a bit familiar with how to cook. Growing up with an elderly grandma meant you had to help cook dinner in order to eat it, too. That was no issue for you, because you adored spending time with her. 

You cook with everyone, and you notice that while everyone else is eating, Chan is still standing over the grill, cooking the last bits of meat. You get up and walk over to him. 

“Let me take over. You need to eat, too, hyung.” you say, holding your hands out telling him to place the cooking utensil in your open hand. You can see him hesitate before he finally forks over the utensil. Huh, that was easier than I expected, you laugh to yourself.

Chan sits with everyone else as he puts some food into his empty bowl. You listen as everyone hums and moans at the taste of the food. Your heart swells, knowing that they all get to enjoy food that they made themselves. You finish cooking the rest of the meat and you bring it to the table, before sitting down in the empty seat next to Han.

Han tries not to tense up when he feels your arm bump into his when you get comfortable in your seat. The spot on his arm tingles. You apologize to him, running a hand through your hair again. He notices the way you push up your glasses when they slide down the bridge of your nose. He thinks you’re so breathtaking, even though you’re doing the most normal actions that everyone does. 

As you all eat in peace, the staff grabs your attention, explaining the task to you all. They say that you all are going to debate against each other based off of the lyrics from their songs. 

You’re a bit nervous, because of course, you haven’t participated in any of their songs yet. You’ve listened to their music many times, but not enough to memorize the words or the true meaning of said lyrics.

You wonder if you stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t expect you to comment. Oh how wrong you were, my dear. 

The debate gets heated really fast, Changbin being the loudest of the bunch. He makes sure everyone knows what he thinks, and you feel bad for poor Chan and his eardrums, because Changbin is no different than a siren. 

You have to admit that he’s funny, and him being loud as hell just makes him funnier. You find yourself doubled over in laughter because of the comments he makes throughout the debate. You lean on Han as you laugh, and you miss the way he tenses up, his laughs becoming more nervous. 

After the debate and the cameras are off while the staff eats, the nine of you are talking about your families, just trying to get to know each other while you have a bit of privacy from blinding cameras. 

“So, Y/N-hyung. Tell us about you, we want to hear about you now.” Felix says, leaning back in his chair as he pats his full stomach. 

You take a sip of your soda, humming in acknowledgement. You knew this moment was to come, so you are prepared. “Alright, I was born in the USA, in Georgia. I lived with my mom, dad, and older twin siblings before I actually moved to Daejoon.” you start, scratching your shoulder as you speak. 

“I lived there with my grandma until she passed, and then I moved to Seoul. I moved hoping to push my musical career forward. My siblings jokingly told me to audition as an idol to different agencies, so I did.

“I didn’t really expect to get accepted, but I did. I did an in-person audition, and JYP wanted to put me in a group immediately. Now I’m here with you guys, and I really appreciate you guys being so kind to me. I know this isn’t easy for you all, and I bet you hated me before even meeting me, but I really do appreciate you guys working with me.” you finish your little rant and you look up from the table. 

The eight of them are staring at you, and they’re smiling at you. You can’t help but smile back at them, your eyes welling up with tears. You hate being so emotional, always crying at the smallest things. You wipe your eyes with your sweater sleeve as you laugh. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to start crying, but I’m just really grateful.” you explain, and Han wraps his arm around you, patting your upper bicep. You automatically lean into his touch, liking his gentle pats. 

Seungmin and Lee Know exchange devious looks, which isn’t a good thing. They’ve both noticed how Han looks at you, he’s not very subtle about it. They’re confused about how you haven’t noticed yet. The two of them think it’s pretty cute, but they are also aware of what could happen if things went south. It would get so awkward. 

“Well, we’re all happy to have you join our family. It may not have seemed like it at first, but now that we have an idea of who you are as a person, we’re on board.” Chan says, causing everyone to nod and let out other kinds of agreements. 

You all clean up after dinner and you get ready to start filming the next part of the episode. You’re on dish duty with Changbin, and you can’t help but question his dish-washing methods. Does he have to be seated while he cleans the dishes? You don’t audibly question the older male, you just let him do his thing.

This doesn’t feel like such a bad idea anymore, and you honestly consider thanking JYP for making such a weird decision. You wouldn’t do that, though. Not in a million years.

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #kpop x reader #male reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x male reader

[jhjluvs]

a/n: hello i am back on my jiwoong enjoyer bullshit :p meant to post this yesterday when it was the 14th in korea but it wasn’t quite what i wanted it to be yet and today is thursday in the u.s. so technically it still counts as my woongie’s special day <3 this is messy and bad imo but ohh well,, enjoy the kitty sub!jiwoong x mommy dom!f!reader meal :33

makin out with jiwoong n sitting in his lap after having a celebratory birthday dinner together… he’d probably get needy just from a few kisses the poor needy thing :( with your fingers around his waist n your warm lips on his, he’d be like putty in your hands so quick!! you only need to hear him whimpering softly into your kisses a few times before you’re pulling away and looking jiwoong in the eyes, those pretty big brown eyes of his glazed over with arousal. he’s embarrassed, you can tell, and then you look down to see the bulge in his pants… almost immediately you’re thinkin about the ways you could absolutely ruin your sweet birthday boy :(

“i think someone’s not telling me something he should,” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip. jiwoong stays quiet, looking anywhere but at you to hide his embarrassment at being so desperate for you he’s hard just from kissing :((

“kitty, do you need my help with that?” you ask after a beat. jiwoong follows your gaze down to the tent in his crotch, and blushes furiously when he realizes jus how hard he actually is. you wait for him to nod affirmatively before you reach down to free his cock from his sweatpants, ignoring the way he gasps at the touches.

“mommy please, no teasing,” he whines pathetically. you haven’t even touched him properly and he’s sorrow about getting teased, silly baby :( his lower lip wobbles, too, possibly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. he’s just so sensitive, poor boy :((

“kitty,” you faux-whine back. you start stroking his hard, leaking cock slowly after, relishing the way jiwoong whimpers and shudders at the touch. part of you wants to tease him as punishment for not telling you how needy he was, but you don’t. it is his birthday after all and he deserve to feel good!! your hands move up and down jiwoong’s length quickly, bringing him closer to release with each stroke. he whines again as you pick up the pace, squirming in your hold.

“mommy,” he pants, “m’gonna cum!”

“i don’t know that i want you to, kitty. not yet.”

“b-but!!”

jiwoong fully sobs when you stop touching him altogether. tears trickle down his pretty face as you keep stroking his cock. the poor kitty just wants to cum for you but you’re being sooo mean :((

“can you beg for mommy, kitty?” you ask. jiwoong nods. he’d do anything or you, after all.

“please, mommy, kitty wants to come,” he whimpers. “please, please, been so good!!”

“shh, you’ll get to come,” you say soothingly. “you’re such a good boy for me.”

“all for you,” jiwoong mumbles. he almost says something else before he cuts himself off weigh a whine when you go back to stroking his still-hard cock. you can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that forms when you hear your boy cry out in pleasure. it doesn’t take long for him to get close again, to be a whimpery mess under you. he’s so cute, moaning your name softly and tearing up with the pleasure gliding his already foggy brain as his orgasm approaches :( your precious kitty, so desperate for you :(

“mommy, can i?” he asks breathily a minute later. he’s sooo close, you can tell by the way his thighs shake under you. you look up at him from so your eyes meet. you nod.

“go ahead, kitty, come for mommy.”

that’s all it takes for him to groan and spill white onto your hand, murmuring his thanks and shaking still when you stroke him through the aftershocks.

“happy birthday, jiwoong,” you whisper as you lean in to kiss him sweetly.

#i Will spread the kitty jiwoong agenda one freaknasty smut piece at a time #hes a kitty To Me!!! #idk what it is abt me but i wanna see that man Whine #he’s just v obedient kitty coded to me !! #i hope he had the best bday ever too im sure he did 🥺 #zb1 smut #jiwoong smut #☆. ˚ ₊ 𓏸 *

[ethan-landrys-left-scrotum]

Frenemies

Part 3

I promise myself the remaining ten minutes in the car back to the campus will be uneventful.

Sam shoots me a suspicious glare over her shoulder as she drops the window. “It’s, uh, too hot. Need fresh air.” Looking up at Ethan, feeling a mixture of drunk, sleepy, sated, I wait until he looks down at me before whispering. “Does it smell like sex?” He snorts and presses his lips to my nose affectionately. “All I can smell is your shampoo. I’m going to be getting hard over honey and strawberry because it’ll remind me of this.”

He holds me close, keeping me chatting and laughing until we pull up in front of the campus .

Everyone charges toward the door, some carrying full McDonald’s bags and others attempting to carry each other. I follow Sam into the dorm while Ethan helps grab Tara and Quinn , who are so drunk they’re fast asleep. As soon as we’re out of earshot of the other guys, she tugs my arm and drags me to the kitchen corner. “Did you have sex in the Uber?” Her voice says outrage, but her face says pride. So, so, so much pride.

“No, I did not!” Technically not lying.

“You did something,Y/n L/n.”

Large arms wrap around my waist from behind, and I feel his mouth kiss my shoulder. “Tara ‘n Anika said to tell you to go and get your chicken nuggets.”

Her eyes widen and she probably forgot all about them, knowing Sam. When she runs off in the direction of the living room, Ethan turns me in his arms so we’re facing each other, a pleased smirk on his face. He pushes my hair behind my ears. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“So badly.”

Grabbing a couple of water bottles from the fridge, he threads his fingers through mine, navigating us toward the seemingly long dark hallway through our drunk friends littering the living area.

He lets me go first, his hand gripping my waist tightly to ensure I don’t lose my balance in these ridiculously tall heels. “Stop looking at my ass, Landry.”

“Stop having an ass that looks like that.”

We finally reach his door and I drunkenly struggle to open the door, frowning when the door doesn’t open. I do it again. Stuck. “Your door is broken,” I grumble, trying one more time.

“It wasn’t stuck a few hours ago. Are you twisting it in the right direction ?”

“Yeah!” I twist the handle again. “I’m putting it all the way to the left…stuck”

“Thats not the right way” he says, shuffling me out of the way to open the door. The door immediately opens.

“What do you mean it isn’t the right way? Has it always been like that?” He shakes his head, ushering me through the door. I’m adamant I’m right, until the tequila fog clears for a split second, and I realize I’m not right. “No, sorry, tequila brain. It’s the other way for Jason’s room.”

It’s like the room temperature chills as I watch almost every emotion sweep across his face at once. Uncapping one of the water bottles, he takes a large swig, nodding to himself like he’s having a conversation I’m not invited to.

He kicks off his shoes, pulls off his socks, and unbuttons his jeans, dragging them down over his muscular thighs, reaching over his shoulder to pull his T-shirt off his body.

It feels unfair to witness this for the first time not stone-cold sober. I’m scared I’ve missed a muscle or an ab, perhaps a freckle somewhere on his chest. He’s unbelievable, and he’s not even reacting as I shamelessly stare at him as he walks around his room in tight, gray boxers.

He grabs a worn out band-tee from his closet, the Band logo visible near the neck, and hands it to me. He sighs, finally saying something. “Jason, yeah, I forgot about Jason somehow. The guy you’re fucking.”

I should have seen this conversation coming. “We’re not hooking up.” Following him with my eyes, I watch as he sits on the bed, shoulder muscles tense. “You told Chad you’re fucking him. I even got to see him in your bed.”

He doesn’t sound mad. He sounds, I don’t know. I don’t know how he sounds; I don’t know what’s going through his head. “We’ve had a friends-with-benefits thing for a while. He wants to date Kensley, so we’ve stopped.” I shrug, hoping my brief explanation is enough, but I can tell by his face it’s not. “We didn’t even do anything the other night; we watched a movie and went to sleep. He’s my best friend, Ethan, and it isn’t any of your business. Why are you jealous?”

He ignores my questions, tugging my hips until I’m directly in front of him. I expect him to say something now, but again, he doesn’t.

Reaching to my feet, he unbuckles each heel and instructs me to step out of them. The relief of pressing my feet against the flat, hard floor after hours of torture is arguably better than the orgasm Ethan gave me earlier, but I don’t feel like now is the right time to bring that up.He runs his hands up the back of my thighs gently. “I’m jealous because I want you all to myself, y/n, and I’m jealous of any guy you freely give your attention to. I’m even jealous of Chad, for fuck’s sake, and he’s my best friend .”

“Jason and I worked so well because we didn’t get jealous. We didn’t care what the other did outside of our arrangement…”

“That’s swell!” he says sarcastically. “But I’m not Jason.”

He grips the back of my thighs and pulls them forward so my knees fall on either side of his hips, straddling him. I’m painfully aware of the no-panty situation when my dress begins to ride up, stopping only when his large hands squeeze my ass, and he uses his grip to grind my pussy against him.

“I don’t wanna share you with some other guys. You know I can keep you perfectly satisfied all on my own, in every way you need.” He looks at me at me hungrily but those puppy dog eyes never seem to fail me

This feels dangerously close to exclusive territory, something I do not want. I brush his bouncy curls back from his face and press my lips against the corner of his mouth gently. “Stop overthinking and fuck me. It’s not that serious.” Rolling me onto my back, Ethan climbs between my legs, applying pressure exactly where I want it. My fingers sink into his back to pull his body on top of mine so I can feel every breath. I need more friction, more pressure, more him. “Do you have a condom?”

His nose brushes against mine, once, twice. A garbled moan rumbles in his throat when I roll my hips against where he’s straining against his boxers. “I fucking hate myself right now, but we’re not having sex.”

Of all the things I was expecting him to say, that was somewhere right near the bottom. “What?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you. No. Shit, I do, but not right now.” He presses his forehead against mine, lowering his voice. “I want you to want me when you’re sober, y/n/n. I can’t do another week of you avoiding me. I fucking hate it.”

The sting of rejection sinks to my stomach, and it’s like I can’t breathe. “Oh, okay. That’s fine. C-could you get off me, please?”

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out; I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be another drunken hookup. Put the T-shirt on; we can talk or sleep, whatever you wanna do.”

What he’s saying makes sense, but somehow it doesn’t soothe the embarrassment I’m feeling. My lip wobbles, despite my attempts to concentrate on him saying he does want me. It sounds like he only wants me if I offer him more, which I can’t do. The need to please him and escape him are battling against each other in my brain, suffocating me.

“Y/n/n, please don’t cry, fuck. I want you so badly; I just don’t want the first time we have sex to be something you regret.”

Saying nothing further, I reach for the band tee and head toward the bathroom. When I’ve changed out of my dress, cheeks still pink and eyes threatening to water, he’s already in the bed, so I climb in beside him.

He leans over and presses his lips to my temple, kissing repeatedly.

“Do you want to cuddle?”

I rest my head against the pillow. “I’m not a cuddler.” Obviously lying.He chuckles, kissing me one more time. “Good night”

I wait until he’s fast asleep before leaving to head to my dorm room.

#ethan landry oneshot #ethanlandry #scream #scream 6 #dom!ethan #ethan landry #ethan landry x fem!reader #ghostface #screamiiv #subby!reader #icebreaker

[thatbanditqueen]

Against the Wall Chapter 1

An Austin Butler 1980s Hollywood Christmas Story

This is Chapter One of a 3-part story I plan to post between now and NYE. It’s my first AB fic, my third fic ever... so be kind. I’m convinced, as always, that its... well.... not great... but whatever. I’m committed to seeing how many bars and alley ways my characters can f*&k in.... Please share/reblog if you enjoy, and let me know your thoughts!

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve 1987, and Austin finds himself at a Silverlake dive bar, where he meets the voluptuous and insecure Hannah. Both struggling to make it in the movie biz, they embark on a tumultuous relationship....

Rating: Explicit

Warning: smut, so 18+ only please, vaginal, oral, drugs, alcohol, references to toxic relationships, infidelity.

Words: 13.8 K.... the next one won’t be as long, exposition....

Playlist to keep you company as you read....

Chapter One: Bruised Bananas

 1:16 a.m. Thursday, December 24, Technically Friday morning, December 25, 1987

The Black Cat Lounge, Silver Lake

“You sure its ok for me to go, Han Han?”

Hannah leaned in, struggling to talk over the sound of Depeche Mode reverberating through the small, dark club.

“Course! I know you don’t get any in Iowa, so go have fun with Rod.”

“I think his name is Todd! OK….   maybe you’ll meet someone before closing? You’ve been working your brains out, you deserve a good Christmas fuck,” Sara looked into her friend’s eyes, and kissed her  cheek. “Call me tomorrow? I live near Abe’s, maybe I’ll stop by and say hi…”

“Yes, please, Sloan’s back from New York and she’s bringing her latest victim, I’ll need you…”

Sara nodded as she followed Rod or Todd or whatever to the door.  Hannah sipped her vodka tonic, relaxing, she felt warm and happy. The air was full of cigarette smoke, chatter and excitement. New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle” started and she hummed along, enjoying how the loud synth boomed through her body as she basked in the glow of the Christmas lights around the bar, the only bright spot in an otherwise almost pitch black room.  Christmas Eve girl’s night was their tradition, usually there were five or six high school friends but tonight it was the two of them. Sara was home from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop for a week, so when Rod or Tod or whatever his name had started buying them drinks, Hannah was happy for her. Sara paused and look back, eye brow arched silently confirming one last time that it was really ok to leave Hannah on her own. Hannah hoisted her thumbs up in the air and smiled broadly. Lopsidedly. Drunkenly. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting she had make up on. A fuzziness grew at the top of her head. You should go too… go pee… then leave.

There was a long line at the bathroom. This is going to take forever…..  Hannah pushed up the sleeves of her black, sequined blazer, wondering if she could make it home first. Even the thought of peeing made her want to burst.  Don’t risk pissing yourself in the cab, just be patient, get in line.  Her stomach dropped a bit when making eye contact with some of the girls leaning against the wall, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt self conscious, fat, ugly….. New year’s goal, get down to a size twelve you stupid cow. Smoothing down her tight leather mini-skirt as she shifted in place, she argued with herself, that’s just your mom talking, shut up and love your self, stupid. Then a genius idea struck, and she walked towards the men’s restroom and swung through the door, making eye contact with the solitary man washing his hands.

“Of course there’s no line, s’totally unfair, isn’t it?” She said, winking, he smiled as he left.

The relief was immediate. Hannah sat there in the stall, she had never been so happy to sit and pee quietly in a bathroom. She pulled up her fishnets, arranging herself to leave when she heard the door followed by trousers zipping open. Oh well. Boobs first, Hannah made her way to the sink, grateful for masculine bathroom etiquette, the blonde white guy at the urinal kept his eyes forward while she washed up. She dried her hands, slowly, enjoying the voyeurism of watching him shake, zip up and turn around in the mirror, unaware of her. He stopped and grinned when he noticed her, blue eyes alight with surprise.

“Whooo, hey, what’s a bathroom like you doing in a girl like this?” His voice was gravelly and his eyes laughed, drawing Hannah in, she turned toward him as he twisted the faucet. Hair combed back in a high, messy, casual quiff, his square cheekbones were an invitation. He continued talking, washing his hands, laughter in his voice.

“Either you’re the most convincing drag queen I’ve ever met, or you’re lost….”

Hannah shifted, drawn in by his warm voice, the challenge of his droll banter… she ran her hand through her curly auburn hair.

“I’m just starting the bathroom revolution, baby, if you don’t have to wait in line, neither should we.”

“Ok, Gloria Steinem,” he said slowly, extending the last “nummmm” with a flick of his tongue, mouth open, looking her up and down. A bemused smile curving in his lips. It sent a shiver up her belly and through her chest as she felt the impish tenor of his voice roll over her.  

“Ya know, you actually strike me as the sort of girl who probably spends a lot of time hanging out in men’s restrooms…. checking out the goods…. picking up dates…” 

“Ha!” Hannah’s head flew back, she weaved and steadied herself, leaning further into the counter. “You got me! That’s my plan here.” Emboldened by his smile, she leaned closer and whispered, “Tell me, is it working?” 

He brushed one of her errant curls behind her ear, looking into her eyes, and then at her breasts as they heaved up and down in her low cut silk top. Biting his lip, he dropped to her ear.

“Well, you definitely got my attention.”

The air hitched in Hannah’s throat, his breath was on her neck and she shuddered as butterflies danced through the walls of her vagina. What the fuck is happening? Is he really flirting with you? Ughhh, why are you turned on? He isn’t even your type, he looks like a stock broker…  hot, country club, beautiful yuppie scum… oh fuck it. Maybe it was the warm comfort of being drunk in a low lit room, maybe it was the thrill of being in the men’s bathroom, or maybe it was the way she could still feel the heat of his finger behind her ear. Whatever it was, Hannah broke her rule to never make the first move and drew his head down to her lips. He tasted like beer and smelled like a mix of Jasmine and amber earthiness. 

“Hey there… you’re pretty friendly for a bathroom occupying revolutionary…” he muttered, softly returning her kiss. 

Hannah’s wound her arms around him, pulling him closer.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re all pretty easy, sex is a….” she smushed her lips against his, tugging him further down as his hands grabbed her ass, lifting her onto the sink.  “… an important part of our militant agenda… ahhh,” she moaned as he sucked at the nape of her neck, hands on top of her fishnets. 

His attention became more intense, returning to her mouth with savage, sloppy kisses, nudging his tongue in and pushing hers down before flicking the tip 

“God… you taste like strawberries…” he whispered, earnest, eager.

“That’s my …ughh… lip smackers…”

Hannah widening her legs as he pushed between them, her skirt riding up as his thumbs traced her inner thigh. She wrapped her legs around him and felt his cock stiffen. He stepped back to catch his breath and her mouth felt swollen, raw, and needy, she longed to feel his strong lips pressing back against her, owning her, compelling her to open up and bring him in. His eyes followed as his left index finger traced down the front of her shirt, slowly, grazing her breast, looking back into her eyes expectantly.

“Hey, let’s slow down….” 

Hannah’s response was dulled by the arousal vibrating between her legs, she bit her lip. 

“Hmmm….wait, what?”

“We should go back out there - dance? ”

“Ummm….”

She took a deep breathe, noting the bulge of his erection as he ran his fingers through his  dirty blonde hair, relishing how his sure hands grabbed her and tenderly lifted her off the counter .

“Unless you want to turn me around and just have your away with me here?”

“Public sex isn’t really my thing.” 

“Ah, you are more of a gentleman than I am, sir, I would have had my way with you right here and now…” Hannah winked, enjoying the blush that spread with his smile as he took her hand. She didn’t recognize herself, talking this way, the words just stumbled out of her mouth

“C’mon.” Something in Hannah’s belly curled as he grabbed her hand, his strong grip pulled her to him and she became an extension of his body, fitting neatly into the curve of his armpit, giddy as he looked down at her with a goofy grin on the way to the dance floor.

The music enveloped them as he unfurled her and moved his shoulders, swaying his hips to the sounds of Siousxie and the The Banshees. She turned and backed into him, moving in rhythm, lifting her arm to pull his mouth to her neck, rubbing her ass into his hips, turning back to wrap her hands around his neck. They moved together, awkwardly at first, then relaxing to meld in synchronicity to the beat. The slow, sad opening chords of Duran Duran’s “The Chauffeur” blared out and Hannah leaned into him.

“This is the last call song, it’s bar time.”

“Oh, cool… I need air anyway….”

Hannah moved towards the front door, then felt his hand on her shoulder,  he was nodding toward to the back exit.  Hannah pulled him into her arms as they stumbled into the alley, now he was walking her back to the brick wall across from the club, behind a set of dumpsters. She leaned into the cold surface, feeling its uneven rough ridges through the back of her thighs. The sharp sensation arousing her even more.

“What’s your name, anyway?” She asked.

“Austin…”

She whimpered as he kissed her, shallow at first and then deeply, slowly, his hands pressed on either side of her.

“I’m…. Hannah….”

“Hannah…..that’s my favorite name….”

“Liar….. “

“It wasn’t before tonight… but right now it’s… “ he kissed her neck, “the only name…” he kissed her clavicle, ”I wanna know….”

He paused, stepping back and taking a joint out. Hannah looked him over, like her, he was dressed head to toe almost entirely in black, punctuated by a metallic dark blue dress shirt that blended in with the rest in the darkness. The contrast made his blonde hair and lightly tannned skin all the more radiant. His bright blue eyes shone with lust as he lit up the joint and inhaled. Hannah reached over, taking it without asking, looking into his eyes intently as she leaning up to shot gun the smoke into his open lips.  Austin’s fingers traced the side of her cheek, down her jaw. 

“You are pretty cute, you know… for a sharp tongued broad who likes to harass men in the john.”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled as she gasped a “ha,” but he could see that his fingers  flustered her. Austin liked the idea that he was making her blush, making her speechless, smirking as her lips hung apart. The look of pure, unadulterated desire on her face made his cock hard, it had been at half mast since they left the bathroom. Her brown eyes looked up at him with awe, not demanding attention, not  expecting anything, she looked genuinely thrilled just to be there, standing in his shadow and fooling around. It had been a long time since he was with a woman who didn’t seem to demand constant flattery and praise. Austin looked back into her eyes, they seemed unsure, playful, innocent, an effect heightened by how hard she was trying to seem confident and experienced, grabbing the joint out of his hand in mock defiance. He lost himself watching her, wondering what it would be like to taste her as he took it back and sucked in another hit, savoring the strawberry lip balm that lingered on the tip of the joint. His left hand moved into the wall as he hovered over her, smiling down at Hannah. He was torn between a primal desire to protect and care for her, and pillage every orifice. The tenor of her voice and the way she seemed almost overwhelmed by their closeness on the dance floor gave him the impression she didn’t do this sort of thing with strangers often.

“So….Hannah…. nice to, uh,  meet you …” 

She smiled, a blush returning to her cheeks as her eyes fell to the ground, her hips falling further against the wall. Austin inhaled and held her chin up so he could now shotgun the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes answering his unspoken question by pressing her hands on his shoulders as she held in the hit for a few seconds, her forehead now grazing his, their noses touching. The sensation was intensely intimate, and Hannah’s expression shifted to a challenging smile as she took the joint back from him once again. Austin felt a bolt of electricity go up his spine and settle at the base of his skull, his whole body buzzed. He was transfixed, unable to break eye contact as his fingers moved up and down the voluptuous, soft curves of her hips. He loved the way her body welcomed his hands, warm, pleasant, comforting, he wanted to submerge himself into her plush bosom. His thought of his last girlfriend, all tight skin and bones, a sharp edged bird. 

Hannah’s dark curls bobbed up and down like her tits, Austin couldn’t help touching them. He pulled on a curl, watching intently as it sprang up and down, then doing the same experiment with her right breast, caressing beneath it and then lifting it up to watch it bounce. He could spend hours just watching the buoyancy of these tits heave above him. He leaned in, now his lips were again on her neck, his hands moving down her thighs, a moan escaping her mouth through the rich, exhale of smoke. She threw the joint on the ground, hands moving under his jacket, as Austin traced up her thighs. His fingers moved up her skirt, almost absentmindedly, seeking out the warmth inside her panties and between her legs. Hannah arched into him as his fingers lightly grazed the public hair at her entrance, looking up she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

“Is this ok?” His voice was low, cracked, his mouth parted. 

She nodded and he kissed along her jaw, moving  into the base of her neck, then her ear, his fingers delving between her and slowly, carefully, yet purposefully, stroking up and down over her clit, finding the moisture and using the slick to rub her in rhythm with her hip as it thrust forward. He joined her, rutting against her leg, gently sliding his index finger lower, into her cunt, gasping as he worked the tight clench, using his thumb to follow her moans, noting how she trembled most when he thumbed a half circle along the left side of her nub. She became slippery and soft, opening for him, her hands around his back, she moaned into the alley, her back rubbing against the rough bricks behind her with abandon. Shiny, black sequins from her blazer spiraled to the ground.  Austin stopped nibbling her ear, shifting above her, looking into her eyes.

“You are….. so beautiful,”  His cheeks flush, his thumb flicking back and forth, Hannah moaned out as he pushed his middle finger into her now.

“Don’t do that.” She said, looking up at him.

“Does that hurt?” He asked, pulling his second finger out, maintaining his slow, rhythmic flex.

“No, I mean what you said. Don’t talk …like that. Don’t lie to me, don’t say cheesy things because you think I need them… I don’t… I… ughh…. I don’t want you to be nice to meEEeee…”

Austin’s smiled as he felt her shudder, unable to stop her voice from trembling under his touch. Then he considered what she had said, his brows furrowing as he stopped fingering her. 

“Hey.” He moved her hand to his cock, hard and protruding through his trousers. His voice was low but firm. “I don’t like it when people tell me how I feel, or what to say…. Feel that? I’m not here saying things to be nice… you turn me on. I think you are beautiful… and I don’t care if you agree, honestly…”

She looked up at him, her large brown eyes serious. “I just can’t take it when men are…  nice to me.” She kissed his chin, her hand slowly rolling over his member. “I want you to be mean, be rough…hurt me…” 

Austin shook his head, his thumbs flicking over her nipples as he glided his hands over her breast.

“What… so you would prefer me to call you like… an ugly slut while I pound you into oblivion?”

Hannah nodded.

“Mmhmmmm.”

Austin’s bit his lip as she moved her hand, continuing to rub the outline of his cock and then pulling on his belt.

His left hand went to the base of her throat, tightening a little, then releasing as she paused.

“Sorry baby, mean and rough ain’t my thing…” he turned her around, slowly, and pressed her against the wall, she felt the cold brick against her cheek as he lips warmed her shoulder, sucking and nibbling as he slowly rolled her skirt up. Hannah gasped, moaning into the bricks, as Austin spoke, his words punctuated by each kiss to her neck. 

 “If you want me to fuck you... you’re going to have to take me….  Nice and slow…”

He arched his eyebrow as Hannah looked over her shoulder at him and nodded in assent.

“Yeah, ok pretty boy…  fuck me then….  Do you, uh, have a condom?”she asked, trembling. Hannah had never had a man treat her this way, it was the most baffling sensation, he asserted his dominance while seeming reverential. She hadn’t been with anyone since Eddie, her last serious boyfriend, and he was punishing in bed, taking pleasure in degrading her as he punched through her like a jack hammer. She felt all the blood go to her core as Austin promised to fuck her slowly, and she throbbed for him even more.

The need in her eyes made Austin momentarily unable to talk, just nod, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a condom, relief washing over him that there was one because he hadn’t planned on having sex tonight. He looked around, briefly brought out of lust’s heady daze of to put his wallet away, condom wrapper in mouth. He glanced down the alley, ensuring they were alone, even somewhat hidden from the back of the club behind the dumpsters. However, he knew anyone walking by would catch them, and the prospect both terrified and excited him. Looking back towards Hannah, he realized she was watching him ardently as he undid his trousers, letting them slide to the ground, shoving his briefs down and rolling the rubber on.

Testes pulled up in the cool night air, Austin leaned into Hannah for warmth, kissing the cushy softness of her ass, lowering her panties, swearing out with a whispered apology as he accidentally ripped her fishnets, he was so eager,  hurriedly sparked on by the arousal building in his stomach at the sight of her plump, heart shaped bottom. His hand cupped the softness and then slapped it gently, the pliant give of her cheeks tightening his erection as he halted at her entrance and slowly nudged forward, finding it still somewhat tight, yet also slick and welcoming. As he hesitated, Hannah pushed back on to him.

“I said fuck me pretty boy…” 

Austin let out a half laugh that turned into a moan as he reveled in her snug, inviting pussy, moving cautiously as he felt her soften and stretch.

“Does this feel ok?”he asked in her ear, and she nodded.

“Harder.” She called out, looking over her shoulder, seeing his mouth open in silent concentration as he surged gently into her again.

“Like I said, don’t…  tell me….” He kissed her shoulder, and grabbed her more firmly at the hips “….what do to….”

He plunged back into her, taking care to remain slow, steady, controlled, savoring how her soft hips moved back to meet him with each forward movement, never fully leaving her warm cunt as he burrowed deeper and deeper, opening her further up to him with every thrust. His right hand moved from her waist to her shoulder, as he pushed her harder against the rough surface of the wall without realizing it, fixated on kissing her neck, then just on breathing as he began to pump into her with slightly more force and speed.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He growled into her ear, she moaned back loudly, then his head fell forward into her back.

“Mmhmmm….. oh god….”

“Hey, let me know when you are close, ok?” He panted.

Hannah gasped, heaving. Just tell him, tell him, you don’t cum during sex… But she couldn’t, she didn’t want to discourage him, ruin the mood, stop him from continuing his steady thrusts that felt so good she planned to think of them later, alone, touching herself. So she nodded, gasping out “Okkkk…”

Austin pushed her further into the wall, increasing his rhythm.

“Ughhh, let me know if I’m hurting you, ok…?”

“No… this is good, I’m umMM… good” she said meaning it, but followed with a lie. “I’m getting close.”

His head fell into her back and he kissed her blazer. Her rough, scratchy, sequined blazer. He kissed it over and over again, as he grabbed at her side, her waist, her neck, his other hand pushing the wall over her shoulder for balance. Hannah felt the pebbly indentation of the bricks gouging into her own hands, too distracted by the pummel of him inside her to notice the pain. Desperate moans escaped her lips, she focused on the crush of Austin’s frame into her, shuddering as she pushed backwards into his insistent lunge. Reveling in the sensation of his hands brushing away the hair at her neck to kiss her, the rhythm of his cock plunging into her, the sounds of his breath, the firm yet considerate lilt of his voice. She moaned out loudly, trying to summon the sound of convincing orgasm, leaning back into him, and crying out. 

He followed a few minutes later with his own exclamation, breathing out a succession of “oh gods” in a low, frantic howl, heaving in and out several more times, then grabbing her hips to stop, extracting himself gently, holding her at her waist, kissing her neck one last time. Hannah leaned forward against the wall, catching her breath as she heard him tie off the condom and throw it over the top of the dumpster, then zip up his pants. His sweet, steady manner was jarring in comparison to her previous lovers. The ache of the rough, sharp bricks against her face and hands suddenly begin to set in, but her legs wobbled slightly and she leaned back to the wall to steady herself, a few after shock twitches as she tried to move. He took off his jacket and used it to wipe between her legs, carefully bringing her underwear and most of her stockings back over her bum as lightly as he could, smoothing her skirt down. Hannah rolled against the wall to turn around, still panting, and took in the satisfied, foolish grin on Austin’s face.

“Hey…” he murmured, his lips pursed together as they curled, his fingers brushing her hair out of her face, taking her hand, kissing the back of her wrist. “This is… crazy…I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this.”

Hannah inhaled deeply, tucking her shirt in.

“What, sex in public?”

“Yeah, s’not really my thing. And with a stranger. A crazy one who tried to make me hate fuck her….”

Hannah’s cheeks reddened.

“Yeah… I usually can’t get it up for nice guys… right? Ugh, gag me with a spoon….  I just don’t go in for the ‘oh baby you’re so beautiful’ routine….”

“Too bad, because baby…. you are so beautiful…”

“Just stop … ”

“What’s your deal?”

“Look, I know I’m ok, maybe cute, but I can’t stand it when guys exaggerate… I’m no super model... I actually have one in my family…. so I know what beautiful is…”

“Well… I’ve dated girls like that… Trust me, they ain’t all they’re cracked up to be. Petty, dramatic, high maintenance, no sex drive because they are STARVing? No…  I actually think I prefer having something soft to hold onto… ” He leaned down to kiss the top of her cleavage.

Despite her best efforts to stay cool and aloof, a genuine smile beamed through Hannah’s face as she swatted him away from her boobs and guffawed.

“Stop.”

Austin paused, leaning above her, blazer slung over his shoulder. Hannah eyed it, thinking how he used it to wipe away her sweat and slick, how much it would cost to dry-clean. Although, something about Austin gave her the impression he didn’t worry about dry-cleaning bills. He probably grew up in a big, expensive house, going to private schools, belonging to a country club. Suddenly self conscious, she wiped under her eyes.

“I must look like a mess…”

“A beautiful mess…”

“Ok, seriously, stop… you’re the beautiful one, pretty boy, really…”

Hannah soaked in the warmth of his breath, and trembled looking up into his eyes. He searched her face, an inquisitive look spreading he glanced down the alley.

“Hey, let’s go back to your place.”

“What? Why? I don’t even know you….”

A “ha!” escaped Austin’s mouth, floating up into the dark Christmas Eve sky. “Are you kidding me ? I was just inside you…”

“Well…”

“Look, I’m staying with a friend who lives down the street… we can’t go back there, I actually came here because he was fighting with his girlfriend… So we’re going back to your place… I’m not finished with you yet.”

“What?”

“You didn’t cum…Tell me I’m wrong?”

She stuttered. “It doesn’t matter, we both had fun…”

“ ‘It doesn’t matter…’ is definitely a no… “

“You don’t owe me anything…. It’s late, and I’m actually" Hannah stopped as a yawn escaped her lips “ quite tired…”

His lips turned into a mischievous smile. “I do owe you, and I always settle my debts… I might be more of a feminist then you are… female orgasms are my favorite…” He raised his fist and pumped it to the sky, laughing at her eye roll.

“OK,” he continued, “This is ridiculous, shut your pretty face and let’s go already.” 

Austin winked as he whisked her next him, putting his arm around her as he walked them down to the end of the alley and into a cab. 

———

A simple framed poster for Some Like it Hot in Italian greeted Austin as he followed Hannah into her small, second story studio apartment awash in film posters, art, dirty coffee cups and empty beer cans.

“It’s a mess, sorry, when I’m not working I’m sleeping…. Can I make you some tea?” She asked, an anxious energy in her voice as she turned around, slipping off her shoes and blazer. Grabbing a hair clip from the kitchen bar that clearly doubled as a filing cabinet, rolodex and table, Hannah pinned up her sweaty, curly hair. 

He shook his head. “So, what do you do? You know… when you aren’t seducing men in alleys?”

“Ha! You are fucking hilarious… that was also my first time doing anything like that…” 

She grabbed his hand as he tried to pull her back into an embrace, turning to the sink, filling a glass with water.

 “I’m an editor….  film editor…. I’m working a few so-so jobs right now but.. I’m working on my networking skills…”

“Oh, so you're in the biz?”

“Yeah… yeah… you?”

“Yeah, actually, I’m an actor..”

“No... no! You seem too nice for an actor… too smart…”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone knows actors are just empty vessels… vain stupid empty vessels…  they are the worst…. I’ve never met one who wasn’t a complete asshole. Think they’re the most important part of a movie… don’t understand the real artistry is the invisible stuff….”

“Like editing?” He grinned.

“Yes! Editing, writing, sound, camera work… everything else! Editing makes the movie… s’what puts the story together, otherwise it would 100s of hours of different takes out of order…. All actors have to do is show up and let other people dress them and do their hair and feed them their lines…. Ugh, I hate actors.”

Austin grabbed Hannah and pulled her onto his lap as he sat on her orange, leather arm chair, the only place he could see to relax, and kissed her with a smile.

“Ok, ok, I give in, you win, actors are slime and editors are unappreciated artistes…”

She put her arms around his neck.

“Hmm, see, you are smart…. For an actor… So, Austin, you been in anything I would have heard of?”

“Not unless you’ve been watching a lot of NYU student films….”

“Oh no, you’re not still in college, are you?”

“No, I graduated last year, just been living in New York, going out on auditions, I’ve had a few bit parts off broadway…”

“Anything promising.” She watched his face light up.

“Yeah, actually…” he looked down coyly, “I just scored a part in Sydney Pollack’s next movie, I’m moving back out here for it. My agent said its already opening up more  auditions… s’really exciting, actually…”

Hannah paused, her hand ran through his hair.

“Wow, Austin…  Pollack, good for you…. Wait, you said you are moving ‘back’?”

“Yeah, I actually grew up in Anaheim….”

“Oh no, you’re an actor AND you’re from Orange County?” She leaned into his neck all mock agony.

“What? What’s wrong with Orange County?”

“Everything… I know all I need to know…  next you’re gonna tell me you voted for Reagan… wait, don’t….”

“What’s wrong with Ronald Reagan” he laughed, taking her head in his hands and kissing her nose. “You are such a fucking fuss budget, you crack me up….” Drawing her head next to his, mussing her hair, looking up at the art on her wall, absentmindedly kissing her forehead.

Hannah embraced the pleasant comfort of Austin’s arms, looking at his profile, noticing the way his hair seemed to fall into a disheveled coiff yet still seemed effortlessly sexy. I’m lucky I met you before you were in a movie… who knows the next time you’ll have a one night stand with an average girl…. She flicked the bottom of his earlobe, and he turned toward her. 

“Wanna fool around?” He asked her and she gently slapped the side of his cheek with her hand.

“Don’t you get tired? It’s almost 4 … we should set up the bed…. I probably smell amazing,” sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “But honestly I can’t be arsed to shower.”

Austin moved his hands underneath her knees and around her shoulder, lifting her up, smelling her crotch, armpits, hair as she giggled and shrieked.

“Smell fucking amazing… you smell like fun….”

Hannah jumped up, extending her hand to lead him to bed. Which was standing upright on the wall of the living room.

“Wow, a Murphy bed? I’ve never actually seen one of these in-person…”

“Yeah, they don’t have these in Orange County, do they? I’m guessing my apartment could fit into one of your mansion’s bathrooms…” He shoved her shoulder with a ha ha ha as she kept talking. “This apartment was built in the ‘30s. It’s small, but it’s all I can afford and it’s only 15 minute over the hill into Burbank.”

“Oh, are you working at Warner?”

“No, I’m free lancing it, I’m at a little post house, we do a lot of Disney’s stuff…”

“Wow, look at you….” An expression of respect formed on his face as he watched her pull the bed down. He knew a few editors from his program at NYU, they were all dudes. Every editor he’d ever heard of was a dude. His own brief experience learning basic editing in a required class had shown him how much he detested that kind of work, he was not cut out for the grinding, thankless schedule of postproduction and the patient attention to detail it demanded.

“The sheets are dirty —“

“S’all good with me —“

“I guess I should change…”

Austin moved toward her, she froze in silence as his hands slowly untucked her shirt and lifted it over her head as she shifted, a nervous laugh startling out of her throat. She looked up at him, dazzled by his attention, soaking in his reverence as the back of his fingers trailed over her naked belly, turning her around as he kissed her back and unclasped her bra. Throwing it to the side, he turned his attentions to unzipper her skirt, bring her back to face him as he pulled her skirt down with her fishnets and panties to the floor, kissing the smooth skin over her plump belly,settling on his knees to lift her feet one-by-one as he gently took her clothes off. He drew her down to the edge of the bed, looking into her eyes.

“There, I think you’re ready for bed…..”

“Ha….” She said, almost breathless, pushing up on his shoulders. “I need to brush my teeth…” she patted him on the head, ambling to her little bathroom, looking back over her shoulder to see him watching after her naked bottom with a happy, dazed look on his face.

——-

12:05 p.m.  Friday morning, (Technically it had been afternoon for six minutes)  December 25, 1987

It was when Austin tossed into her and began snoring on the top of her head that Hannah woke up, finding his left hand cupping her breast from under her shirt. She lay there for ten minutes, enjoying the cozy warmth of his body as it spooned into her. The hard dagger of his morning wood jabbing in her ass made her sizzle, she hadn’t even really gotten a good look at it in the dark, but she knew it was a girthy bugger from slight soreness that lingered between her legs. His embrace was wonderful, but she couldn’t bear Austin’s snoring, it got increasingly louder and made her cracking hangover unbearable. How the fuck can someone so hot make these unholy sounds? Despite her best efforts to disentangle herself without waking him, she saw his eyes blink open as she held his arm, hesitating to find the best place to put it. His hand grasped hers and kissed the back of her palm, groggy, half asleep, he rubbed his eyes.

“Hey…. beautiful…” a sunny smile greeting her as he gathered her from behind back into his arms, smushing his lips into the curve of her neck.

“Hmm…. beautiful, huh…  forget my name?” She asked, turning inward to look at him with a teasing grin. He planted a strong peck on her lips. 

“Oh Hannah, I wasn’t that drunk… you know athletic activity helps keep the mind alert when drinking…” Austin wiggled his eye brows.

“Oh it does, huh? That is some bullshit…”

He smiled as he kissed her again, now hovering over her, her hips sideways against him. The unmistakable bulge of his cock against her ass. 

“It does…. I remember everything….. so, why are you so feisty this morning?” He said, gazing at her breasts. “Oh, right, now I remember… I still owe you a —"

“Austin ha! No… you don’t owe me anything—“

He put his finger to her mouth.

“Shhhhh….  Trust me, I’ve slept with more women than you, most girls don’t cum during sex… at least at first with me … ” he winked, his lips returning to their home on her neck.

“Oh? And how many women are we talking about here? What’s your sample size?”

Austin sighed, and stopped moving his hand up her thigh, settling back and leaning into her shoulder, his hands snaking around to grasp her tightly.

“Do you really want to know?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many?”

“I was just questioning your research methods,” Hannah turned to kiss his cheek, looking up into his eyes, a nervous laugh escaping “I’m just joking around….  I don’t know anything about you, I don’t know your last name, I don’t know how old you are…  last night was fun but…I’m a big girl, I know how this ends….  I don’t expect you to share your ...” she kissed his chin and flicked hair out of his eyes “... life history with me.” Hannah kissed him on his lips, and rolled over to get up. He pulled her back to him.

“Hey! Where do you think you are going… “

“To make coffee?”

“Oh no you don’t… ” he leaned in to kiss her again, barely detaching his mouth to mutter in-between soft, sloppy pecks to her lips. “My last name is Butler,” smush, “I’m 23,” smish, “I don’t do a lot of one night stands…." smash “I’m kind of a serial monogamist…” smosh “I’ve had … let’s see … three serious girlfriends …” smush, “and a handful of on-again-off-again casual relationships…a few one-time things, ” smash, “but I actually like good sex…” smosh, “and I find sex is just better when you get to….” smush, “know someone’s body…” he finished with a wink, brushing his fingers along her face. Each kiss sent a bolt of electricity down Hannah’s spine, and she sighed when he stopped, running her index finger lazily along his bare shoulder.

“Do you know how many people you have slept with? Like ever?“

“Probably around 25… counting everything… Do you? Do you keep a list or just use a bathroom turnstile or what?” Hannah let out a laugh, and shoved him as he grinned, kissing her neck, and working his way lower, trying to lift off her shirt. Flames ran up through her torso but she swatted him away. Folding his arms on top of her belly, he rested his head and looked up at her.

“Your turn….” He slapped her thigh. “Full name?”

“Hannah… Rosenfeld…. 24… Leo….  two serious boyfriends … I’ve probably slept with about 10 people, total.”

“And how many of them made you cum?”

Hannah looked up at him, blushing, and turned to talk into the pillow.

“I can’t talk about this with someone I only just met…”

She rolled off and went to the kitchen area. Austin pushed up in bed and watched her. 

“Why not? It’s perfectly normal and natural.”

Hannah looked at him over the kitchen counter as she filled her kettle with water. 

“It’s…  it’s complicated …”

Austin got up and walked over, taking the kettle out of her hands, gliding his fingers up and down her sides. Hannah quivered, leaning back into the counter, hands pushed against the hard laminate surface, she breathing louder and louder as his fingers moved to her panties, his muscular abs grazing over her breasts, his mouth hovering over her ear as he spoke softly, deeply.

“S’not complicated…”

He kissed under her ear, his hands worked inside her underwear, brushing over her, before moving down on his haunches to take them off, kissing the soft woolly patch at the apex of her legs. Hannah gasped as he rose and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up on the counter as she snorted.

“Austin..” She hit his arm. “What are you doing?”

He shushed her, putting his fingers into her mouth, and then bringing them between her folds. Hannah felt a tension building in her stomach, her chest began to ache and she inhaled deeply as he parted her thighs wide, a serious look on his face as he returned to her eyes.

“Just …relax….”

“But I ——“

His lips were soft as he kissed her, stroking the flame that was growing in her core, feeling the wetness that was developing.

“Please…I fucking love doing this….” 

Hannah gasped and nodded, watching him lower himself onto the floor, the thought that his quads were incredibly strong for someone so skinny passed through her mind. It was quickly gone as she heard him moan approvingly, fingers parting her outer lips.

“Good, you are so damn beautiful…” 

She laughed, vibrating at the way he enunciated each syllable in bee -ut - a - fulll. Playfully slapping the side of his head, they exchanged a lusty glance as he looked up at her with a devious smile, then resumed his attention to her pussy. Hannah’s eyes squeezed shut and she fell back on her elbows as Austin leaned forward kissing her inner thighs, enjoying the whimpers emerging from her mouth as he rubbed her center with his thumb. Making his way in, one soft kiss at time, he put her legs over his shoulders and opened her further with his hands.  

He smiled as her back arched and bit his lip, then leaning in to flick her lightly with his tongue, back and forth. The sensation was almost too intense on her clit, and Hannah called out in-between moans, embracing the tingling feeling growing in her depths as he moved the tip of his tongue in circles around her. Burrowing further, he nudged her clit up and down with his nose as he kissed and laved her entrance, then turned back to her pulsating round nub. Hannah called out indecipherable words as his tongue darted up and down the left side of her clit, long and slow, then shifting to lick across in quick, short staccato movements. She twitched as she felt the warm breath of his mouth on her nub, then thrusting forward as his right index finger slide into her and crooked up, gently swirling until Hannah jolted up with a cry. Austin paused and looked up at her, finger inside her but stilled.

“Uh, yeah… I just ….”

“Hmmm…. I feel like Columbus, did I just discover Hannah’s G spot…?”

“Columbus was a genocidal ….” She breathed out, chest heaving. “maniac….  But…. I do think you are …on to something…”

Austin laughed, and Hannah smiled at his blissed out eyes and goofy smile, his chin covered in her slick.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“No please god….. don’t stop…. Don’t ever stopppp” Hannah called out, trembling as she felt the hum of his self satisfied laugh against her clit, the feel of his index finger pushing in and out of the spongy, soft bundle of nerves inside her walls caused her to spasm uncontrollably. The more slippery she became, the more acutely she felt each stroke of Austin’s pointed tongue beckoning her into oblivion. The contrast between the light flicks of his tongue and the firm, forceful movements of his fingers drove her over the edge. A heat began to violently develop inside her core and Hannah screamed out as euphoric wave after wave spread through her pussy outward to her thighs and up through her belly button. Austin continued to press her clit gently with his thumb as he fell back on his shins, enraptured by the way her face contorted into a look of painful ecstasy.

“Uhhh. Stop…. Enough… I can’t ….” 

He laughed, gripping her thighs as he stood, wiping her dampness along his wrist, kissing her, stroking the sides of her legs. Hannah faltered trying to push up on her elbows against the counter, her arm hit the faucet, splashing water on them and into the sink. Austin stood between her as she pushed it off, stroking her thighs.

“Oh god…” she wiped her brow, tasting herself on his lips with a soft kiss.

“You ok?”

“Mmmhmmm….”

A soft, sweaty glow radiated across Hannah’s face, she grinned at the stiffness of Austin’s cock against her thigh. She worked his briefs down, glancing up to see the fierce need within his eyes, his lip parted as she brought him to her entrance at the edge of the kitchen counter, inhaling as he sunk into her slowly, feeling the pinch, the soreness from last night all but gone. He stopped, not moving as she thrust up into him. Austin gasped sharply, his length fully within her. His hands at her hips, he moved his right hand up to cup her face.

“Hey… I don’t have any more condoms.” He said, thrusting back slowly, and then forward a little, moaning. “Ahhh god, you feel so amazing…. But … we should stop.” 

Hannah leaned back, arms over his shoulders, uttering a frustrated grunt.

“I definitely don’t have any condoms either… fuck… you could just pull out… “ she offered, bringing him back into her, arching her hips into him, relishing the sound of his “fuckkkkk” as he stretched her open.

“Are you on the pill?”

She shook her head, “No, I just got off in August… dry spell… figured I’d just use condoms and go back on if I started dating someone… fuck…” She didn’t share the real reason, how she thought it would be easier to loose weight off the pill. She didn’t want to break whatever spell made this handsome, too handsome, man think she was fuckable.

“OK, yeah… let’s stop… I gotta go to a Christmas thing…. and fuckkk… ok…. we should .. definitely stop… ” 

“Hmm… I don’t… want … to either… but … I have ... same …”

Austin paused, just standing there, still buried to the hilt in Hannah. He kissed her, deepening with each one, tightening his embrace as Hannah whimpered. He looked down into her eyes.

“I want to see you again.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have a thing…”

“After?”

“Maybe….”

“Take you out… like on a date….”

“Ok.” Her voice was soft and breathy.

He pulled out of her, slowly, evincing a deep moan.

“I’m going to go buy the biggest box of condoms….” He promised, smiling into her with another kiss.

Hannah laughed, putting her hand around his dick, feeling her slick lubricating him as she tugged.

“I could still get you off?” She offered, puckering her mouth with a loud POP.

He looked over at the clock, it was 1:30.

“Fuck, god… but… ughhhh…. its ok… I’m a big boy… and I gotta jet,  I have two different parties I have to go to, and I’m already gonna be late…”

Hannah traced the ridges of the corded muscles along his abs, nodding, knowing she also needed to shower and get ready for her day. He helped her off the counter, kissing her, and  moving to find his clothes.

“So, what are you up to? Rosenfeld…. does your family celebrate Christmas?” Austin was on the ground looking for his pants.

“My uncle does, for his wife, they’re having a big party.” She leaned into the sink, watching as he searched for his clothes, now sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, pulling on trousers.

“Oh, do you have a big family?”

“No… he just knows a lot of people…. It’s just me and my dad here in LA…. ”

“Ohh… “ he smiled, as he bent to pull on his black slip on shoes. “Your pop meeting you there?”

Hannah shifted, running her hand through her hair.

“Um, no, he and my uncle don’t really talk….  s’a long story…. the short version is,  my dad’s an editor too… like a sound editor, he and my uncle started out together, my uncle’s a ... uh... a producer… they both came out here, found some success… and, well, about twelve years ago my uncle agreed to invest in my dad’s business idea, a full service sound design company … then.. well, my aunt convinced him not to at the last minute.. the whole thing kind of tore our family up….”

Hannah inhaled, and stopped talking. She didn’t tell him how her father had dealt with the devastation of defaulting on his loan by drinking. Heavily. How her mom ran off to San Francisco and then back to London, to her family, to get away, leaving 12 year old Hannah there. Which was ok, if she’d had to choose, she had always been closer to her father anyway. But things got messy, her father had made the horrible decision to restart his life buying a trailer in Malibu, in a small, unofficial retirement park full of nosy old people. Hannah had to transfer from her crunchy, alternative artsy private school to Santa Monica High, the nearest public school to where they now lived. Suddenly her commute to school went from 10 minutes to an hour, and that was probably the easiest part of high school. Pot, ice cream, music and her small coterie of friends had made survival possible until she escaped to college. Things were better now, her dad was three years sober in AA, working intermittently, though mainly non-union, TV and straight to video stuff. Hannah longed to buy him a big house, set him up, let him rest, he had been grinding for thirty years. She wanted to free him, help her father move on from his disappointed, disoriented life adrift these last ten years. Hannah stopped, feeling she had overshared.

She took in Austin’s look of warm sympathy, his low “Oh… wow…”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to get heavy… but.. no, I won’t see him today… we have a tradition, we swim in ocean at dawn on New Year’s day, so I’ll drive out to his place in Malibu and see him then…. But, uh, yeah, I like started trying to mend things with my uncle about two years ago.. ha…. You know, after I graduated from UCLA and started looking for work…. My uncle is a producer… I guess I am shamelessly trying to use him….”

Austin walked over, putting his hands around Hannah.

“That’s how this business is, I’d do the exact same thing - you have to use every advantage you have, because it’s not about how good you are…. It’s about who you know…”

————

5 p.m. 

The sounds of the party downstairs floated up to the guest room where Hannah had snuck off to call her friend Sara, excitedly running through the events of the last 24 hours.

“It’s like, a Christmas miracle babe… I might actually start liking this fucking holiday… When can you get away? Come meet me here, and we can go get a drink at Barney’s… I wanna hear all about Rod Todd.”

“Yes…. It’s definitely Todd, and I don’t think my night was as exciting as your’s… Give me another hour or so and I’m there…” Sara promised. 

Hannah smiled, she had been grinning all day, hearing Austin’s voice every where she went. If she squeezed her legs she could almost imagine feeling him between them as he asked to see her again, his hard length still inside her. She straightened her white blouse walking downstairs, she even smiled at the sound of the Vienna boys choir as she ordered a glass of red wine at the bar, nodding and making small talk with some of the other people there. The guests were mostly from Paramount where her uncle was Vice President of Development, but there was an assortment of people from other studios, talent agencies, competitors and random acquaintances. Right now, Hannah was learning how her uncle’s accountant had walk-on roles in several films last year. Hannah guessed over a hundred people were wandering around the party throughout the downstairs and back yard of her aunt and uncle’s vast Bel Air mansion. 

A caterer walked by with bacon wrapped scallops, and Hannah had only popped one her mouth when her younger cousin Nathan ran up and grabbed her hand.

“Mfph… caor-ful nat-tin,” she swallowed, steadying. “Wheww, I almost spilled my wine.”

“Mom said to come find you, Sloan just arrived with her boyfriend, she wants a family photo.”

“Ok, ugh, how do I look?” Hannah asked, brushing off Nathan’s hand as she followed him to the front of the house. “Oh, how much of an arrogant douche is this one?”

“I can’t tell, he looks like he could go other way..”

Hannah laughed and then stopped in her tracks as they rounded the hallway, the air left her throat and she jumped back, startled, her hand jerking back and spilling red wine all over her white blouse, her purse dropping to the ground.

“FUck fuck fuck…” she whispered, as she bent down to grab it. You are insane, every where you go, every voice you hear, you think it’s fucking Austin. But as she stood up, she saw Austin’s horrified face looking back at her, her thin, gorgeous cousin Sloan hanging on his arm. Her model cousin Sloan. Her 20 year-old model cousin Sloan. Sloan’s mouth agape in a shocked laugh as her aunt ran over, the British accent made her voice all the more shrill.

“Hannah, oh god, did you get any wine on the carpet? Dear dear, now we’ll have to wait to do the photo… Abe, ABE!  Get Gigi out of the kitchen for me…”

Hannah trembled, putting her glass on the nearest side table, thankful all the wine had spilled on her shirt, and none had landed on the pure, white carpet. She closed her eyes, wishing to be anywhere else as her aunt turned her around and started walking them away from the group, looking back to yell.

“Please excuse me, Austin, it was so nice to see you again. I have to go get my clumsy niece sorted out…  Sloan, show him around, won’t you? We’ll do the photo later….” She moved Hannah forward. “What am I going to do with you, Hannah? I just hope we can find something that fits… maybe one of Abe’s dress shirts… oh, I think I have an oversized holiday sweater that will work.”

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror of her aunt and uncle’s master suite. A large, oversized ugly bright red Christmas sweater dwarfed her body, almost completely covering her blue mini-skirt. She fell back onto the large, soft bed, arms spread, doom enveloping her. She felt the hairspray on her dirty hair crunch. Of course. You knew he was too good to be real. Maybe you imagined last night … maybe he was just a figment of your delusional mind…. ? Wallowing in self pity, the sound of the door disturbed her from her reverie.

“It’s ok, Elaine, I’m coming - I just need a moment…”

“Hannah?” 

She jolted up at Austin’s voice, watching from across the room, arms crossed, eyes glaring as he closed the door.

“Fuck off….”

“Hannah, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh?”

“No, look… Sloan and I broke up last week… she just… I just… she asked if I would come do this one last thing as a couple… it meant a lot not to tell her mom right now… I was gonna be out here anyway…"

Hannah looked down as he strode over, backing away as he tried to embrace her, wiping the tears at her eyes.

“Don’t…”

“Please, don’t be like this… fuck… this is the most unreal fluke … ya guys don’t even have the same last name…”

“We do have the same last name,  Rosenfeld is too ugly for a model, too Jewy, Sloan shortened it to Rose when she moved to New York after high school … ”

“Hannah.” He stepped closer. “C’mon, it was an honest mistake.”

“Ok, so if it’s not such a big deal, why didn’t you mention this morning that you had to pull out of me to go take your ex-girlfriend to her family’s Christmas party? …. It’s all about who you know, isn’t Austin? Tell me. ” Hannah jeered, wiping more tears away. “Is Abe producing the film you’re in?”

Austin growled, fighting off her swats and grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her still. He wanted to choke her and fuck her into submission and comfort her all at once. The fear and anger in her eyes caused him to back off.

“Just stop, ok, you’re not being fair… " he relaxed his grip, Hannah went slack and fell into his arms. “Oh Hannah…  I’m sorry… you’re right… Sloan… we really are broken up… but … it did feel weird meeting up with her... today…. after last night… this is… gnarly…. but I like you…  I still wanna see you again, is that so crazy?” 

He took her by the chin, gently, looking into her face, searching for recognition. Her expression tensed, a stony smile formed as she pushed him away.

“Here’s the thing, Austin. Babe. There’s a girl code. Friends, cousins, their exes are off limits.”

As her feet padded down the stairs, Hannah almost ran out the door as Wham’s “Last Christmas” came over the sound system. Landing with a thud, instead, she stalked over to the bar and ordered two double vodka tonics, downing one after the other, then grabbing a glass of egg nog from the punch bowl and liberally spiked it with rum. Pacing across the room, she saw Austin come down, her mind now racing to form an escape plan, only to disintegrate inside as she watched Sloan approach her, arm around an enthusiastically smiling Sara.

“Hannah, thank god you are all cleaned up, look who I found on the front doorstep?” 

Hannah inwardly groaned, as Sloan waved Austin over, continuing.

“Hey, why don’t we all go downstairs to the den? We might find some snow after all out here in sunny California…” Sloan snaked her other arm through Hannah’s as she tried to protest.

“Hey Sloan, Sara and I have to be some—"

“I don’t mind.” Sara chimed in. 

“Don’t be silly Han Han…. Austin, bring that hot bod over here…” Sloan commanded, leading them around the house to the downstairs den, a dark room with the largest TV in the world. 

No one was around, and Sloan plopped down on the couch, opening her purse to pull out a mirror and a small coin purse, from which emerged a little baggie of white powder. Expertly lining rails of coke, Sloan paused to look up. Austin slowly went over to join her, and Sara sat on her other side.

“Are you partaking Hannie?”

“Is everyone else?”

“Why not…” Sara sighed.

Austin eyes caught Hannah’s, as she nodded. “Then yes, please…”

“What’s with you Hannah, anyway?” Sloan mumbled, rolling up a $100 bill. 

“Hannah met someone last night…” Sara giggled.

“Really?” Sloan arched her eye brow, and snorted two lines, handing it to Austin, who shook his head slightly, muttering why not as he leaned in.

“I don’t really —“

“She really likes him…. What did you say? He was the sexiest guy you ever met? Ever?” 

Hannah shot Sara a dirty look, trying to communicate that she would kill her if she uttered one more word.

“What?”

Walking over, Hannah sat across them below the coffee table, taking two rails up the nose, sniffing hard as the taste hit the back of her throat. 

“I’m so happy for you Han Han…” Sloan turned to Austin, who coughed as she explained, “My cousin has dated some real losers….” 

“That’s not true…” Sara feebly added.

“What happened to Billy from last year?” Sloan asked.

Hannah responded through gritted teeth. “Billy is my very gay, very single, good friend.”

“Oh, well, we were all just glad that psychopath was out of the picture…”

“Psychopath?” Austin murmured. Hannah shot him the look of death, running her hand through her hair, tapping the mirror for Sloan to put more blow out. 

“Eddie.” Sara added, as Hannah formed the powder into more lines, and snorted. “He was the worst, I’m sorry Hannah, but he was.”

Sloan nodded, “Yeah, oh boy… what ever happened to him?”

“His band went on tour with Minor Threat and he cheated on me… what can I say, I seem to attract losers, gays and cheaters.” She raised her eyebrow, looking Austin straight in the eyes, and then stood up.

“So Han Han, still editing The Mickey Mouse Club …?” Sloan swiped more coke out with her finger, smearing it on the inside of her gums.

“I think she’s actually editing all the Disney original TV shows right now, right?” Sara tried to break the awkward silence following Sloan’s condescending tone.

“I think I’m gonna head out, Sara?” Hannah’s voice was curt, Sara nodded, and joined her, a bewildered look as she followed Hannah out to her car. Aunt Elaine never got a family photo that day, and Hannah filled in her friend as they drove to the bar and proceeded to get very, very, very drunk, swearing off men forever.

Forever lasted about five hours.

Hannah left her car in Westwood Village. The second thing she saw after she fell out of her cab, feeling her sheer black stockings rip, badly, as she stared at the pavement laughing at the cruel joke we call life, was a pair of white, leather dress oxfords at the base of white pants. Very similar to the ones Austin had been wearing earlier that day. She heard the cab door close, and an Austin-like voice ask what he owed, before strong hands came under her arm pits and tried to pull her up.

“Fuck off … I’ve got it all unner controllll” she rolled away, laying flat on her back, feet slumped over the curb. Austin walked between her knees, his cool eyes looked down at her.

“I told Sloan about last night.”

Hannah blinked, rolling up on her elbows.

“What? Why would Sloan tell you ’bout last night?”

“You are such an idiot.” Austin sighed, looking up at the stars, laughing to himself and shaking his head as he looked back down at Hannah, drunk, a confused expression hovering above the large Christmas sweater, black tights torn across both thighs, blue mini skirt askew. He mused to himself that it looked like two rats had fought in her hair. The ridiculous spectacle made his cock stir even more, he couldn’t explain why. “Give me your keys, we can talk upstairs.”

Hannah pushed herself up, swatting his hands away, then promptly dropping the keys as they came out of her pocket.

“You gave me bruises, ya know, gonna call you Bruiser…”

“What?” 

“Yeah… s’ its your hips…. Yer too fuckin’ skinny…. I’ve some light bruising on my ass, Ssssara confirmed this for me in the powder room at the skey lub.”

“Ski Club?”

“Klee Clunk”

“Oh, right, the Key Club… oh boy, how many places did you guys hit?”

“Ev’ry place…. And I can’t believe you gave me bruises with your stupid sharp skinny sips…”

“Ok, babe, duly noted.” Austin laughed, shaking his head further, grabbing her keys and sweeping Hannah over him as she started to stumble forward, carrying her up the stairs over his shoulder, getting her cleaning and falling asleep next to her for the second night in a row.

————

January 1988 - July 1989 

It started out casually enough, neither one wanting to ask the other what they were doing, avoiding talking about what this relationship was. In fact, they barely spoke for the first few months, their lips otherwise occupied as they were drawn to each other by the magnetic attraction that only grew in intensity each time they laid eyes on one another. On the first three dates, they couldn’t even get out the door before the graze of an arm over a chest or the kiss of lips saying hello on a cheek would become the catalyst for heaving, sweating, swearing, groaning, primal, squelching, slapping, bruising, choking, senseless, neighbors-banging-on-the ceiling, wall, floor, fucking. Usually followed by a session of panting on the bed, leather chair or kitchen floor, exhausted and conceding that they should just order delivery. And then commanding a repeat performance once their energy returned.

“So…” Austin moaned, in flagrante, after date number two had been derailed by Hannah’s fingers brushing lint off Austin’s sweater.  “Am I really the sexiest man you ever met?”

“Ughhh… shut the fuck up… I was hung over… clearly brain damaged from the alcohol… just be quiet and fuck me, you ugly sod …”

“If I’m so ugly, why’d ughhh… keep me around?”

“Imma a slut for uggos… you’re all so insecure you compensate with that tongue …. *moan*… its the low self esteem….  plus you got me hooked fucking me from behind… didn’t have to see that fucked up mug… ”

Every time Hannah sighed or looked at him with her big doe eyes, his lips would part in awe and his cock would propel him forward, his mouth seeking out her pleasure like a beacon being guided home. Finally they agreed they had to meet in public if they ever wanted to successfully leave her apartment, so he would pick her up at work and take her out, undeterred by her protests that it was too expensive as he arrived at the valet stand in front of Orcini’s, Chinois, The Ivy, her voice raising higher and higher as she argued In-N-Out was just as good.  Austin spent a lot of nights finding new ways to make Hannah’s Murphy bed creak before he found his own place on the Westside, and got settled in a small, modern rental up in the hills.

It was a day in late May, Hannah had just started working on her first feature as an assistant editor, when Austin proposed they stop using condoms. She was sitting on the marble counter of his house, eating chow mien out of the container in a Talking Heads tee-shirt. He was in his briefs. Both exhausted, he’d been shooting his second movie, playing Emilio Estevez’s  younger brother.

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else… are you?”

“Well,” Hannah fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, “I’m so busy wrapping this McTiernan picture I really haven’t had time to meet anyone else.”

“Is it any good? I can’t believe they cast Willis, he’s a TV star.”

“I love Moonlighting…”

“Still, is he believable as an action hero?”

“You’re just jealous…. “

Austin took the noodles out of her hand and pulled her into a kiss.

“OK, no more talking about other guys… what do you say? You’re on the pill now, right?”

Hannah nodded.

“OK, I’ll get tested…. You’ll get tested… And voila… ”

She kissed him as he lifted her up, legs wrapping around him while he carried her to the bed room.

Despite her misgivings, Hannah brought Austin out to Malibu for tea at her dad’s trailer. It was a Sunday afternoon, and her heart burst as she watched Austin engage with Avram, not hesitating to talk movies and nodding as her father explained his theories about film school, “waste of time, scholars never make good directors, they’ve got their heads in books,” how Mel Brooks was not funny, “but no one has the balls to tell him the truth.” Austin praised sound editing, particularly dialogue editing, as the most important and unappreciated part of making a movie. And he was particularly gracious every time he tried to tell her father he liked movie he’d worked on.

“Hannah told me you worked on Chinatown, it’s one of my favorite movies…”

“Ughhh, what an awful film,” Avi groaned, frowning, his British accent drew out every vowel. “It had real potential, but Polanksi can’t help himself.”

Hannah stifled her laughter, waggling her eyebrows at Austin as she went to get more biscuits. He jumped up, offering to bring the tea cups in.

“I’ve never met someone with so many strong opinions… about film… and I went to NYU… ”

“My father hates every movie, especially the ones he worked on. I can’t tell you how many times he dragged me out of a movie theatre to walk out of something 30 minutes in.”

“He does know that you and I majored in film, right? When he tells you it is stupid to study film?”

“Yes, he knows that one of us went to the best film school in the country —“

“And the other went to UCLA…” 

“Ha! …. But Austin, my dad started working in this industry when he was 16, a poor Jewish kid from London, he followed his brother and his career to another country, always having to learn on the job. Always having to prove him self, no one to support him. And then everything with my uncle… He is bitter about how the industry is changing, no one ever had to go to film school to break in until the ‘70s…. And in some ways, he’s right, imagine how much more experience we’d have if we hadn’t wasted four years in expensive classrooms…”

Austin introduced Hannah as his girlfriend for the first time at the after party for the Estevez movie premiere. His publicist, Min, was sweet to her face, though she had made Austin promise no public appearances together. He walked the red carpet alone, meeting Hannah inside, where he found Min smiling as Hannah relayed her own editing credits from the year, making a mental note to discuss publicity and relationships with Austin later. 

In their next meeting, Min explained. “You have the potential to be a leading man, Austin, trust me, you do not to be tied down… to an editor? No. Please, trust me, actors are always better dating other actors. Or super models. Or pop stars.”

He brushed it off, explaining it was his private life, and he knew what he was doing. A part of him wondered if being in a committed relationship was wise, fair, good for his career, but those doubts disappeared as he watched Hannah cum on his face the next morning, her dopey smiled sent sparks to stomach, and he pushed up to cover her plush, red lips with his, the taste of her pussy all over his face. Riding her to the hilt and exploding inside of her, Austin shouted “fuckkkk” in rhythm to the sounds of their flesh smacking, filling the empty hillside below his open bedroom window with vulgar noises. That was the day he told her he loved her, pussy drunk, blissed out, nuzzling together in the cosmic afterglow of energetic coitus, endorphins flooding their systems. Austin twisted her hair. 

“Hannah Hannah Bo Bana Banana nana … I think I love you.”

Turning, she kissed the side of his chest, her fingers trailing down his chest.

“I feel it too, Bruiser."

“You should move in.”

“Babe…”

“What? This is the first day we’ve spent together all week. You’re busy. I’m busy. So just move in already. Then at least we can do this everyday.”

But of course, they did not fuck everyday. They didn’t even see each other everyday. Some nights, Hannah would fall asleep on the cutting room floor working for a deadline. Austin had to go to Idaho to shoot a western, and he became close with his co-stars, Robert Downey Jr. and Kiefer Sutherland, returning to LA with a stronger proclivity for nose candy, taking the weeks in-between projects to join his newfound playmates on the club scene. He would call Hannah from the pay phone at whatever bar they went to, asking when she would be there. Telling her he found the perfect alley for their anniversary. Some nights she ventured out, Hannah had always enjoyed feeling music pound through her soul, but she found she didn’t just enjoy getting high every night and she needed the blow to stay up until 4 with them and get to work the next morning. And so, on many nights, Hannah would just collapse at home and wake as Austin came in.

She met his family, briefly, at Christmas 1988. Dinner was small, quiet, just Austin, his father and older sister Ashley in the large dining room of a large, stucco house in Anaheim. Hannah had foregone her usual thick eyeliner and studded black leather jacket, buying an outfit at JC Penneys and wearing her grandmother’s pearl necklace. She hated herself, as she looked in the mirror and asked her self, “Would Nancy Reagan approve?”

She burned the dress in July, as she packed her things and moved out of the Hollywood Hills house. The female voice on the other end of the phone line still reverberated through her head. Austin was shooting on location in Arizona, it was his second leading role.  At first Hannah had questioned whether the hotel operator had connected her to the right room when a women’s voice answered the phone. She paused, thinking carefully.

“Oh, hey, um… is Brian there?”

She could hear the shower running in the background, and then Austin’s distinct voice shout out.

“Don’t answer the phone!”

The mystery women giggled, then spoke into the receiver.

“Sorry, no Brian here, you must have the wrong number.”

“Oh, this isn’t room 335?”

“No, 334… Austin, don’t, you’re all wet!”

“I thought I said not to pick up the phone?”

There it was closer, deeper, in the midst of some sort of exertion, was he tickling her? Kissing her?

Hannah’s mind raced and her imagination ran wild as she listened to a commotion of fabric and limbs while the phone receiver dropped to the floor.

Muffled voices continued.

“It was for the room next door… why don’t you want me to pick up the phone?”

“Shut up, just promise me  -" more feminine giggling as he spoke … “you won’t, ok?”

Hannah hung up after that, adrenaline coursed through her veins, and a sharp, nervous ache ran up her tummy and settled at the top of her chest. Pacing through the living room, through the kitchen, and back again, she started shouting at herself.

“Fucking idiot, fucking actors, fucking Orange County, fucking Reagan, ugh, you fucking stupid cow… you can let this go.” She breathed. “You love him. You knew. This was bound to happen. If you were honest with yourself, you knew. You knew. You knew the minute he told you why he had moved out here. Any real relationship would be impossible. But no, you didn’t care, did you? It was fuuuuun. He was hooot. It felt goooood. Losers, gays and cheaters, Hannah. This is as good as it could ever be. You can push it down, smother it, kill your jealousy and take what he gives you.”

She slumped on the ground, banging her fists into the hard wood floor, seeking out it’s cold to temper the crazy, frenetic heat overtaking her body. Now, she was taking a shower, drinking a beer as the water pummeled down. Three beers later, cold, shivering in the empty bathtub, she had convinced herself to just pretend she didn’t know, act like nothing happened, you love him - that is all that matters. 

But then he called her later that night, whispering “Hey Hannah Banana,” into the phone as he always did, his gravelly confident voice exuding fidelity.  She wondered if this was even the first time, she couldn’t tell the difference. He had the same deep timbre, extolling honeyed devotion from Arizona as he told her about his day and laughed at her sarcastic jokes.

Hanging up, hate overtook her. She played with the idea of throwing his stupid record collection down the hill. Sitting in indecision for five days, she knew she had to make up her mind about what she would do. He was due to come home in a week. At night, she forced herself to picture him fucking someone else, an anonymous mystery woman didn’t seem real enough, so she pictured Sloan, sucking his dick, riding him on top, crying out his name as he devoured her pussy. Hannah was so anxious she could barely eat, subsisting on coffee and digestives for the next few days. Her whole body trembled through a meeting with the director Joel Schumacher,  and Mike, the supervising editor shifting to stare at her periodically and then cornering her to ask if she was ok.

So Hannah made up her mind and started to form a plan. She grieved, chain smoking on the bed, a bottle of vodka in her hand, listening to the mix she had made of The Cure, Depeche Mode, Joy Division, smiling as she stabbed out her cigarettes into the ground, ruining the hard wood floor, thinking of Austin loosing his security deposit. She continued playing stupid on the phone when Austin called, although more and more she let the message machine pick up, feigning a busy work schedule when they talked. She signed the lease on a a little studio in West LA, near Wilshire Boulevard, packed her shit and moved out. She cried as she burned all love notes, valentines, cards, mix tapes and photos of them together in the fireplace before she left. And the dress from Christmas, she would never try to be something she wasn’t for any man. Ever again.

It took Austin two days to notice she had moved out. He arrived home late on a Monday night, assuming Hannah was still at work, he passed out and slept until noon. The past month on location had been a blur. He had wanted Hannah to come with him, and was resentful at her and her career, because they only occasionally had breaks that overlapped. They’d been able to sneak away for a weekend in Cabo, a few days in Vancouver. But it would have been cool to have her keep him company on this shoot. He was busy filming, beginning almost every day at 6 a.m., but the cocaine helped, and he felt like a champion working through the day and going out at night with some of the other actors.  He convinced Bob Downey to come visit him when he had a weekend off,  they drove to the Grand Canyon together, and dropped acid, then missed their paid and scheduled guided tour and ended up laying on the hood of his Beamer gazing at the stars and pondering the meaning of life. 

On his first morning back in LA, Austin got dressed and drove out for meetings with his agent to discuss his the next project, calling home and Hannah’s work no avail trying to reach her. He ate dinner alone at the at Chateau Marmont bar on a whim, drinking a whiskey and talking with the bar tender for a while. He wasn’t famous, yet, not really, and he enjoyed the anonymity, although he nearly jumped out of his skin with joy when Demi Moore recognized him as she entered the restaurant with Bruce Willis. They’d met when she was dating Emilio Estevez, and Austin took the opportunity to gush to Willis about how much he loved Die Hard and how he always thought Willis had action star potential watching Moonlighting. Leaving the Chateau, Austin ended the night with a drive through Hollywood, listening to Genesis and U2 on his tape deck, before growing lonely at home and wondering where Hannah was. He called her work again with no luck, drank a half bottle of whiskey and passed out. It was the next morning, unpacking his suitcases from Arizona, that he noticed Hannah’s side of the closet was empty. Austin frantically walked through the house, opening dresser drawers, looking through the bathroom, checking to see if she had left a note on the fridge or any travel receipts at her desk. His first hope was that she’d gone on a spontaneous trip with friends. Or maybe out to visit her father for a few days. Austin’s heart sank when he saw the empty frames above the mantle, the specks of burnt cards and photos in the fireplace. He wasn’t sure how much she knew, or how she found out, but he punched the wall until his fists bleed, raging at himself for being so stupid, for getting carried away, for screwing around with one of the supporting actresses.

It hadn’t been the first time another actor had flirted with Austin. Indeed, flirting, pranks, late night philosophical discussions, it was all common practice between the crew and the talent, especially on location when the everyone lived at the same hotel. For a month. However, this had been the first time he had given into temptation. Kim was 20 years old, beautiful and carefree, with none of Hannah’s angst or deep insecurities, although he later realized there wasn’t much depth to her personality at all and he got bored. Quickly. In the beginning, it had been freeing and wonderful, even exciting, to explore and get to know a new female body, to end the loneliness he’d been enclosed in over the first week and a half in Arizona. Why did anyone live in the desert anyway? He asked himself as the dry heat hit his face every goddamn day. The way Kim had pursued him was also incredibly flattering. She waited for Austin by his trailer, caught his eye on set while she bite her lip, cornered him at the hotel bar, causing him to smile a mischievous knowing smile every time their eyes locked, to know she wanted him, to feel the power he held over her. It stroked his ego and poured gas onto the fire that would blow up his relationship with Hannah. The sex daze wore off after a week and he realized what a huge mistake he had made. They had nothing in common and it was increasingly annoying how she didn’t get any of his jokes, or slipped into a form of baby talk in bed that grated his nerves, especially when he was hung over. It was worse when Kim began holding his hand on set, probing him about the future, and looking at him impatiently as she talked about going to the premiere together. Like a man, Austin said nothing, and suffered through another ten days of mediocre sex and companionship with Kim before breaking things off the moment shooting concluded.

All of this flashed through Austin’s head as he drove to Hannah’s work, yelling at the receptionist who explained Hannah was not working on anything there, she’d finishing before deadline, and had no idea if Hannah was working somewhere else or coming back in the near future. Swearing under his breath, Austin walked back and forth in the parking lot, squeezing the bridge of his nose, palming his hand through his hair. He considered driving out to Malibu and shaking down Avi, but he couldn’t bare to look Hannah’s father in the eyes, afraid she had shared what had happened, or worse, hadn’t and he would have to explain why he had no idea where his girlfriend was. Racking his brain, he wasn’t sure what to do. He had met several of Hannah’s friends, but didn’t know their phone numbers. It was pure dumb luck that he happened be driving down Wilshire Boulevard in a daze and saw her small, blue Honda hatchback parked down one of the side streets. He immediately recognized the Dukakis 88 bumper sticker in exactly the same place he’d watched Hannah paste it as he teased her relentlessly with promises to cancel out her vote by pulling for Bush. Parking across the street, he sat waiting, unsure of his game plan, but unable to leave. He put the radio on and leaned back. Thrumming the steering wheel, he didn’t see her walk past his car from the apartment building behind him and frown as she recognized his profile. Movement on his periphery startled Austin, and he looked over his shoulder to see Hannah’s beautiful, heart shaped ass running slowly back up the block in low black heels. Springing into action, Austin ran after her, his Nikes and jeans giving him the advantage.

“Hannah! Hannah….” He caught up and blocked the sidewalk, panting deeply. “C’mon Hannah, I made a mistake… one mistake… haven’t you ever made a mistake while you were drunk?”

Crossing her arms, sighing, she resisted the urge slap him.

“Yes. Christmas Eve. 1987.”

Read Chapter Two Here

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added)

@woundmetender​

@powerofelvis​

@aconflagrationofmyown​

#austin butler x OC #austin butler 1980s fic #austin butler smut #austin butler fan fic #christmas smut #banditqueenwrites

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Don't Let Me Go (Part 2)

Words: 5921

Warnings: language, talk of alcohol/alcohol consumption, regret, Leon being a dick but for a kinda good reason, maybe ooc characters and probably bad writing

Resident Evil Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

This also was originally written for my OC Tiffany (Whose info on her/original story will eventually be available on this account @imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters )

Leon and Hunnigan are PROBABLY OOC (as I suck at not being able to keep them from being OOC)

Actually find it fucking insane how long this thing is all together

This is it in multi-part form: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This is it in one part form

Reader and Leon are partners with their job (have been since 2004/2005) and is insinuated to be around the same height as Leon

Not Proof-read and I think it can be seen every once and a while (I know you can see where my brain couldn't function how to write the scene so I just guessed and hoped for the best)

Can be read as its own story or as a sequel to You’re About To Lose The Best Damn Thing You’ve Ever Had

Losely has themes from the songs Never Say Never by The Fray, No Surprises by Radiohead, Afterglow by Taylor Swift, and Look After You by The Fray

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

Leon’s POV

Leon, who had only been there because he was going over a report with Hunnigan, head snapped over towards Hunnigan the moment that Y/N ended the call. Worry spread through his body as they were unable to contact her back. He felt his knee unconsciously bouncing up and down as the computer kept beeping. He knew that he technically had no reason to be worried. Now, thanks to his own doing, all she was to him was another Agent. Not his partner. Not his girlfriend. Not even his friend. (Of course he didn’t know that the last part was all on his own)

“Why is it doing that? Why can’t you get back to her?”

“She blocked me from calling. Which means one of two things; she needed no distractions or she had to go semi-dark. I’m trying the other 4 members of her team and if they don’t respond, it means that they had to go dark too.”

Leon bit the inside of his cheek. He knew that the team originally consisted of 7 plus Y/N/N. The original 3 BSAA and 3 STRATCOM had been reduced to 1 BSAA and 2 of their own. 

If he was going to be honest, Leon didn’t care about the team, he just cared about Y/N and if she was okay. He hadn’t meant to do what he did then just disappear. He meant to break up and let her be for a few days, a week tops, then talk to her. But then he got called in and had to leave immediately. He knew from Claire and Hunnigan both that she didn’t understand why it happened or what caused it. Which he knew was his own doing. He should have told her. He shouldn’t have just said that they weren’t gonna work out. Especially since on their previous mission together they had a run in with Ada. 

But that wasn’t why he did it. No. It was because Stacey had been that person who they thought walked in. And as they had exited the training room, had messaged Leon to remind him that fraternizing with your partner was against the rules. He knew he should have just told Y/N why he was doing it, why he pulled away and why he treated her like shit for so long. But he couldn’t. He was scared that if he had, she would have argued with him and said it was fine. That they would figure it out together. It’s how she was and he knew it was. 

Of course, he still felt horrible for what happened on New Years, he shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up just to crush them the following days. He shouldn’t have treated her the way that Ada would treat him. Shouldn’t have done something that would make her feel like he was using her in the moment because he needed something just to hurt her later.

----

December 31st of 2008/January 1st of 2009

Leon had gotten to her apartment earlier that day to help Y/N put up the decorations. But the entire time all that he had said to her was when he asked her to hand him something or made a comment about getting a drink or going to the bathroom. And then once Chris had arrived, surprisingly being the first, he had gone to talk to him. He had seen her leave from the corner of his eye, knowing she was changing out of the pajamas she had been in all day. 

He had no idea what she was going to come out in, but as she came back from her bedroom, a glass of champagne having already been downed, he knew it would be hard to keep himself under control. He noticed that she was wearing that top she had not-so-secretly bought a few weeks ago. Or at least he assumed it was. He had never seen the one she was wearing and he knew she hadn’t worn that one top yet. It was paired with her stupid jeans that fit her perfectly and those stupid heels that he loved on her because for some reason it always turned him on when she was practically a head taller than him. He saw her necklace was the one he bought her for their first anniversary in 2007. The rings were the ones she always wore and he noted that she wore the bracelet that she had owned since highschool on her right wrist, opposite of the watch he got her back in 2006 after her previous one got destroyed on a mission. Thankfully it was her birthday too so he didn’t have to deal with her arguing too much so he could argue that it was a gift for her birthday and she couldn’t turn it away.

He remembered how she kept saying he didn’t have to and that it must’ve cost a fortune. He had just shrugged it off and said he knew she needed one and he thought she liked that one. And even now, over 2 years later, he still hasn't disclosed the price of it. Something he’d never do because he knew she’d give it back and feel horrible about it. Knowing the only reason she had accepted the necklace was because it was their anniversary and she had gotten him something he knew was expensive as hell.

But even then, he didn’t talk to her. He didn’t go near her. Even as the rest of the group got there. He occupied himself with drinking and talking with people. Even as he saw the look of desperation on her face as she talked to Jess and Claire. Even as he watched her walk back to her room with a face full of complete defeat written all over her face.

No. he stayed talking with Chris and her brother Joe while he knew she was likely standing in the bathroom that connected to her bedroom. While he knew that she was probably doing anything to distract herself from how he had been ignoring her. He knew she could hear him talking and laughing with them. He knew that it seemed like he was happier with everyone except for her. But he wasn’t. He hated this. Hated this hell he had created by not doing it already. This hell he had created for both of them where he knew she was feeling like a deflated balloon that he didn’t want anymore. When that was the complete opposite of what was true. God did he want her. God did he not want to have to hurt her this way. All he wanted to do was hold her and tell her it would be okay.

Let her convince him that Stacey wouldn’t out their relationship and they would figure it out.

He got pulled out from the conversation when he heard a faint sound of something crashing in the back. He wasn’t sure if others had heard and chose to ignore it, or if it was just him who did since he was the closest to the hall. He stood and excused himself saying that he was gonna go check on her since they hadn’t seen her in a bit. 

When he got to the back of the apartment, he looked in and saw that it had just been the cup that held their toothbrushes and pastes. He watched as she leaned down and grabbed the fallen contents. He realized that she didn’t even notice him there until she jumped as he laid a soft knock on the door.

He laughed softly, like he always did when she did this. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” As she placed the cup back where it went, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. The jolt from her didn’t go unnoticed and his face went from one of playfulness to concern. “Hey, you okay?”

She nodded silently, and he saw that she was trying to keep her breathing steady. “Yeah. Sorry. I think I’m just getting tired. My body isn’t used to not having to be on edge 24/7.”

He knew she was lying. He could tell it in her voice. But he still cracked a small smile in an attempt to calm her down. “Can’t disagree with you there. But you seem genuinely freaked, like after a mission.” The smile switched to one of concern, “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

She nodded and turned to him, giving him a smile of her own. “Yeah. I am Lee. Promise.” Lee, the nickname she gave him after their first mission together when she got a concussion. He remembered that his name kept blanking on her (as did most people) so she just referred to him as Lee as it was all she could remember and it had stuck. He noticed as she looked down at her watch before looking back at him, “Hey, it’s 11:59, we should get back in there.”

He was about to go to move some hair from her face, but stopped before he even reached his hand. He knew it would leave her even more confused when he broke it off. He knew it would make it harder for him if he continued to act like a boyfriend. So he kept on telling himself that he was being a friend. Friends treat friends this way. He could still be this way with her even when he calls quits to save her reputation. “Are you sure? It seemed like you had left for a reason.”

He knew from the look on her face that he was the reason and it hurt. At first it was because he hated that he was treating her like this, leading her on. But then it was because he couldn’t feel that way. He had to pull away from her so it would hurt less when he broke it. But he felt his resolve falling and knew it was close to breaking.

“Yeah. I’m perfectly fine. I just needed to get away for a moment. You know how I am.” 

He knew it was a lie. He knew she lied about something he wouldn’t call her out about. He studied her face and saw that she was doing everything to show she wasn’t lying. He knew she knew he was doing this. But he said nothing. He didn’t put her on the spot. Call her out. He just let her do it. Especially as everyone in her living room began to count down.

However, neither of them moved as their friends began down from 10. This was the closest he had been to her since Christmas. It was taking everything in him not to kiss her. Everything in him to not grab her face and pull it to his. But that entire work he was putting in was thrown out of the window the moment she brought her hand up and brushed some hair out of his face. And as she leaned in to him when their friends reached one, his thoughts to push her away were thrown out the window. As she placed a kiss on his lips. He heard nothing as he felt her softer lips on his own chapped ones. 

As she pulled her lips away from his, any control that had been left there disappeared as his hands on her cheeks and he slammed his back onto hers. The moment she let out a tiny gasp, he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He felt her arms wrap around his neck as he began moving them to the sink. Only stopping when the back of her legs met her sink. 

He pulled away for a moment, just to bring his lips down to her neck. And between kisses he asked a question that plagued him since he saw her come out in it. “Is this...a new...top?” He heard her humming in response, eliciting a small chuckle from him. “Is that a yes baby?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was soft and breathy, just above a whisper and he held back a groan when she did.

“I like it. You should wear it more.” He carefully moved her arms up so he could pull it off. His lips lingered on her collarbone, close to the center by her sternum, as he breathed in her perfume. It was a warmer one, a mix of vanilla and spice. He recognized it as the one he bought her back when she dragged him into Victoria Secrets when they were having a sale. He remembered her arguing with her that she wanted to buy it so they agreed that he’d buy her that and she could buy him whatever cologne he wanted. Which just happened to be the one he was wearing tonight.

His lips continued down her body as he got other noises from her. He only stopped when he heard a gasp, immediately pulling his lips away from her. His eyes looked over to see Y/N's sister-in-law standing there with a hand over her mouth.

“Shit, I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve known what you two were doing when you didn’t respond. Fuck, I’m sorry. Um, Joe and I are heading out. I don’t wanna overwork my sister too much by watching the kids after she had a long week. But we had fun. I’ll see you later.”

He stood as he watched Jessica leave the room and felt Y/N/N's head fall on his shoulder. He listened as she ranted about how embarrassed she was by what just happened. How she had been hidden for nearly 30 minutes and then someone came to find her, just to see her making out with her boyfriend. So fucking embarrassing. 

He laughed lightly and joked, “At least we were just making out and not actually having sex.”

She groaned and buried her head in his chest, “I did not just say that out loud, did I?”

He missed the top of her head, “It’s okay.” He pulled away before leaning down to grab her shirt from where he had thrown it on the floor and handed it to her. After she slipped it on, he kissed her lips again. “You know I love you, right?”

She smiled and looked into his blue eyes, “Yeah, ‘course I do.”

“Good.”

This was going to hurt when he finally did it.

--

Leon knew that she wasn’t asleep as she laid by him. But he stayed quiet. He knew tonight would haunt him. He was supposed to be pushing her away. Not drawing her back in and making her feel better while he was just going to hurt her in the end.

----

January 3rd of 2009

He knew she was hurt. He knew she was trying not to cry. Leon knew how mad and confused she was. He knew. He knew her too well. He knew that she understood none of it. Even after he explained. He knew that she saw him as the one for her because he knew she was the one for him. But he could stop. He had to end them so neither...no so she didn’t get her reputation ruined. He refused to let anyone think that the only reason she gets chosen for assignments is because they’re together. He refused to let anyone think of her as anything but the fucking amazing and talented agent she was.

He had promised her back years ago that he would never hurt her. That he would never be the one to break her heart. That he would be there by her side no matter what. But then here he was, breaking her heart and about to leave her.

In the end, all that he could say was, “I’m sorry.” And “You don’t deserve this.” He reached to grab her hand in an attempt to comfort her, but she jerked it away. Which he understood. He deserved it. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better than him. “You deserve better than this. Than me. Than our fucked up situation.”

“But Leon, I like it. I love you. I don’t care about the secrets and the lies. I just want you. Leon, please.”

“I can’t.” He stressed, he still hadn’t said what Hunnigan had told him when he asked what would happen. That was why he was doing this. He had to protect her.

“Can’t what?” Her voice was stretched, he knew she was trying not to cry.

For a brief second, he thought that he shouldn’t do it, but as he saw her face, saw as she was breaking, he decided to do it. “Can’t ask you to possibly give up your job because someone found out! Watch as you have to get reassigned because Hunnigan already confirmed that it would be you. Watch as your life completely changes just so you can be with me!” He ran a hand through his hair, “That’s why we’re done, Y/N/N. Why we have to be. Both in this relationship and in our partnership for work. I already sent in the request for a new partner.” He hadn’t said that last part to her yet. But it was true. He did it yesterday. After she had left the office for the day.

“Leon.”

He ignored her as he walked to her door, he was planning on just leaving, saying nothing else. But as his hand reached for the knob, he stopped, “I’m really sorry Y/N/N. Truly, deeply, sorry.” 

He walked out after that. But he didn’t go far. He stayed there in the long hall. He brought a hand up to his mouth to stiffen the sobs that were threatening to fall. He felt his chest tighten as he heard her scream and a crash. He knew she was angry and upset. He knew she was blaming herself. And it took everything in him to not open the door and agree with her that they’d figure this out. That they’d find a loophole. That they’d be alright.

----

February 18th of 2009

He shook his head, trying to forget that last time he saw her. Instead, he became hyper focused on Hunnigan trying to contact anyone on her team. The difference between her and them was with them, it called, but no one answered. He felt himself picking at the calluses on his hands, a bad habit that she always noticed. A habit that whenever she saw, she would take his hands into hers and hold them. He ran a hand through his hair as the nerves built up again when it went off that she disconnected herself from being able to be contacted. 

He hadn’t even noticed Hunnigan talking to someone through her mic set until she said: “Do you want me to assume her and her team are dead, sir?” He snapped his head to her. What did she mean by that? Why would they assume that Y/N was dead? She just went dark. Since when has it been the procedure to assume death when gone dark. “Of course sir, I’ll keep watch and will let Agent Kennedy know.” Leon narrowed his eyes at Hunnigan as she turned to him. “They want me to keep an eye out for if she pings a location in the next 48 hours. If not, then you’re being deployed to finish the mission and if you come in contact with her, call for an evac for her. But shoot to kill if she’s been bitten.”

Leon looked away from Hunnigan. He wasn’t sure if he could do that. Shoot to kill Y/N. Personal feelings aside, they had been partners since she joined back in 2004. Since right after he got back from Spain. Hell, she would’ve been with him if she hadn't had to get her appendix taken out and miss training causing her start date to be pushed back to where it was around 48 hours before he got back from Spain with Ashley. He had known her for 4, going on 5 years now. How could he shoot her, even if it was for the greater good? He felt his chest tighten and--

“Leon? Do you understand?”

He looked back at Hunnigan and nodded silently before getting up to leave the room. He couldn’t be there anymore. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He practically ran through the halls, not caring who looked at him. Only able to catch his breath when the cold February air hit his skin. He heaved, his hands on his knees and he leaned forward. He couldn’t do it. He knew he wouldn't be able to do it. He knew that he would get in trouble. But he would rather get in trouble for not doing his job than have to shoot her.

He just prayed that she pinged to prove she was alive. And that if he ever got sent in, he would find her. Alive or dead but not bitten. Not turned. He’d rather find her already dead than have to do it himself. He would never be able to live if he broke her heart and then killed her.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to live with himself if he broke her heart and then found her dead.

--------

February 28th of 2009

36 hours after she went dark they received the first ping. 11 days had passed since and they had gotten 8 more pings. Leon was at his desk, waiting for Hunnigan to tell him they got the next ping. But as the sun went further and further down, they still had got nothing. He kept telling himself that she was okay. That maybe she just forgot or wasn’t somewhere where she could.

He kept telling himself that it was okay and she was alive. That he had no reason to worry. That she would make it back to them alive.

--------

March 2nd of 2009

Leon looked out the window of the helicopter he was on. 4 days had passed since her last ping. Since they last heard of her being alive. They had sent him in the early hours of the morning to go finish the job and find her. They told him to not have hope she’d be found alive. The cold was horrid and she was supposed to be back by now. It was doubtful she’d have enough heat stored to survive.

But he ignored them. He ignored their warnings and pushed them away as he climbed down and off the heli and walked the remaining mile to the village her team were meant to be staying at.

It took him almost no time to find the abandoned snow-mobiles they had ridden to get there. Took him almost no time to walk into the small place they were staying to find the rest of her team all dead. But still, there was no sign of her. No sign that she had even been there recently. He told Hunnigan and she responded that she’d send someone once they found Y/N. As he exited the house, he grabbed the keys to be able to use one of the vehicles.

He drove through the town until he reached the point where she had gone dark at. It was by a larger building that stood out compared to the rest. But that wasn’t where she had left at. She had left off in a small home by it. He walked in and looked around, finding her tracker and communication devices in a box that had been covered in snow. A few of the windows had been shot through, he assumed it was from her. He walked up the stairs and saw that there was no way out from there. If she had been in there, she had left the same way she went in.

He walked out of the house and was about to get back on the snowmobile, to head to her last pinged location, but he realized that it was inside the large building and he would have to walk it. The sun was going down as the time passed 6 PM as he jumped the fence and ran around trying to find her, shooting those infected that got in his way. Which he was surprised wasn’t that many. He had expected more to be there, but it was like someone had already gone through and killed most of them. 

He ignored the fatigue that grew as he ran closer and the sky got darker. Or at least he assumed it did, there were practically no windows in this place so all he had was his watch to tell the time. He ignored the gnawing feeling he had that he was going to find her dead. That he came all the way to bring her home alive that he’d have to do it dead. That he kept telling himself that she’d be alright and he could apologize. He could tell her what Hunnigan told him when he got back. So he could apologize and let her scream and yell and choose what to do. 

So he could know if there ever would be a possibility that they could have made it. That they could have done more if he hadn’t let the possibility of what could've happened take control of his life.

As he grew closer and closer to where she had last pinged, he felt his heart drop further and further into his stomach as he saw more and more blood covering the floor. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t hers. It was someone else's. And he wasn’t entirely wrong as he grew closer. A body laid on the ground, he could tell the blood wasn’t even an entire week old so it had to be from around her last ping. He placed his boot at the dead and grimaced as he recognized him as the guy from last summer.

That told him why she went dark. 

He kneeled by the body, looking for what caused the bleeding, finding a few bullet holes. They weren’t accurate and he could tell that whoever shot them had a shaky hand. Making him doubt it was Y/N. One thing he knew he could always count on was her steady aim. Rarely would she hit a target in the wrong spot on accident. It was always on purpose. But, he knew the bullet holes. It was with a Lightning Hawk. It was like how he always had his Matilda, she always had a Lightning Hawk on her.

He stood up and continued on, looking down at the small device to see how much further and realized that it was to his left. He turned and saw a door drawn shut. He put the device away and grabbed his gun out from its holster and carefully opened the door. He swiftly turned to walk further in, something that at first seemed futile as he didn’t see her. But as he walked further in and looked around, he saw remnants of her having previously been there.

He kneeled by her clicker that had been pinging her location when she told it to was on the floor with some of the layers she had been wearing when the mission started. But what scared him was that there was a bandage covered in blood that looked like it had been sitting there for a few days. If it was her blood like he thought, that would explain why it looked like someone had shot the guy shakily and unsure. And so that nausea grew as the gnawing feeling that she was dead came back to him. 

He shook his head of those thoughts and got up, looking around the room more. As his eyes scanned, he saw that there was a trail of blood that led to one of the walls. When he got closer, he saw the faint marks of what he assumed had been someone moving the cement. He put the flashlight between his teeth and holstered his gun as he began to touch around, trying to find a weak point in the wall. When he did, he pushed in until it started moving. Once it was opened enough for him to slip through, he grabbed the flashlight from his mouth and upholstered the gun. 

He pointed the gun forward and slipped through the crack, he walked with cautious footing. He still found it rather suspicious that he hadn’t had to deal with much since he had gotten there. His senses were on high alert, feeling like there was a possibility of him getting attacked at any point. He walked down the dimly lit room, turning the flash on and off so for the case of someone watching him, there was a possibility of him throwing them off. 

But any want to not get caught and have the element of surprise immediately left his body when he heard gunshots down the end of the hall. He ran as fast as he could and slammed the door open, gun ready to shoot. But when he got there, he saw that Dr. Lewis was already bleeding out on the floor, but still reaching for her own gun. As he approached the woman, he looked around and saw Y/N laying on her stomach, gun on her non-dominant side, in a corner. And as much as he wanted to check on her first, he ran over to the doctor and kicked her gun as far away from her as possible. 

He kept his gun up and stood over Lewis, the barrel of the gun pointed at her head, daring her to do something. But all she did was laugh before coughing up blood. “You...you really think this...this will be...be the e-end? You...you killing me? Think it...it will bring that little b-bitch ba-ack.”

He knew he was supposed to bring her in alive. So they could question her. But Leon just couldn’t. He knew she had been experimenting on children more than she ever had with adults. The information Y/N had found and sent in before she went dark proved it. And something, some part of him, felt like no one who did that to kids could live. Maybe it was his belief that he still was doing this for Sherry. He knew she was an adult now and that she doesn’t need his protection anymore, but it didn’t stop him from making it his main reason. 

With his gun still smoking, and Lewis’s eyes going blank with death, he pulled it down. “Still stops you.” He looked up when he heard the sound of an alarm going off and his vision was encased in red. He should have known that killing the head would do this, but he didn’t give a shit. All he cared about was saving her. He ignored the blaring alarm and robotic voice saying that the building will self-destruct in 10 minutes.

He turned to run back to where Y/N was lying. As he got closer to her, he could see she was slipping in and out of consciousness. When he reached her, he placed a gentle finger where her pulse would be, he knew he should have kept his eyes trained on Lewis, in case she turned herself into something, but he didn’t. His eyes were trained on Y/N. She was covered in sweat and blood, hair clinging onto her. Her breathing was labored and she barely was able to keep her eyes open. He turned her to her back and immediately saw what the reason for the bleeding was. 

A large gash that went down her sternum. There was dried blood all around it and he saw that shittily done bandage that had moved. It was surely infected and was probably the reason for her sweat. He grabbed his device to call Hunnigan and requested a medical evac. He found Y/N and she was alive. They were in the building, but he was going to try and get her outside. Hunnigan informed him that she already sent one the moment he said the rest of the team was dead and they were 5 minutes out.

The moment the call ended, he gently moved one of Y/N 's arms around his neck before putting his arms under her body. Placing one securely under her knees and the other behind her back and under her other arm. He heard her groan in pain as he started to carry her out. Trying to figure out how to get to the roof.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Y/N/N.”

“Leon?” Her voice was hoarse, barely there.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I got you. Medic is 5 minutes out, okay? I’m gonna get you out. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Leon, please, just let me go.”

He shook his head, “No. I’m not doing that. I’m not letting you go. Not anytime soon.”

“But it hurts.”

He looked down at her and saw her eyes were closing again, “I know. I know it does. But I need you to keep your eyes open for me, alright? I know it’s gonna be hard, but I need you to do that.”

“But it feels better that way.”

He kicked a door open that led to stairs, “I know it does Y/N/N/N, I know. But I really need you to keep them open. Just until the evac gets here. Once they get us, you’ll be alright. You can close your eyes. Just keep them open till then.” Y/N/N/N. A nickname he came up with once when they were both drunk and abnormally clingy to one another. A nickname that he only used around her when he was close to breaking.

But she nodded, “Okay, I’ll try.”

He smiled down at her, “Good, try.”

He knew if she wasn’t injured and delirious, she would be yelling and screaming at him. So a part of him was happy she was, but most of him was scared that they medic wouldn’t get here in time and they would be fucked. That the team wouldn’t get there and he would lose her. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t lose her. Not yet. Not now. Not when he had so much apologizing to do. 

So when he made it out of the maze of a building, he let out a breath of relief when he saw the helicopter landing. Never in his life did he think he’d be so grateful that living Agents were top priority. That they’d rather lose the dead bodies and explain to the families that there was no body than possibly lose someone that could still be of use to them. Of course, he knew there was also the likelihood that they had sent two helicopters.

As he got to the Helicopter, he passed her body to one of the Agents in it before jumping in himself. And as they flew off, he helped close the door that he had jumped in from. For a moment, he stared at the window to see the sun coming up in the distance as the building exploded. But only after a second, he turned back to see the two medics already hooking Y/N up and getting her the help she needed.

He slumped down into one of the small chairs, leaning his head against the cool metal and silently watched as they flew to a hospital in Vancouver that was used to STRATCOM and the BSAA. 

#leon #s #kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy fic #leon kennedy fic #resident #evil #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil angst #resident evil fic #x reader #imagine #angst #fic

[enruiinas]

Interaction PSA: On Verses & Verse Building!

-- Info pertaining to verses, AUs, verse-buildings, crossovers, etc. This series of PSAs is meant to accompany & further elaborate on some things in my updated rules. I link to them throughout not as required guidelines, but what I hope are helpful snippets for those looking for the best means of interacting! --

♥ I love verses. I love verse-building. I love AUs. That's it, y'all. That's the post. (I"m technically kidding, but it could be.) I love playing in other peoples' verses, I love people jumping into my verses, I love building a verse with a mun whether it's based on a series of canon-divergent what-ifs or taking our muses and throwing them into the setting or situations of another fandom we both enjoy... you name it.

♥ I am happy to write all the threads, in all the verses, all the time. I like having multiple things going on. I have verses that are spin-offs of other verses that only explore a minor deviation in the original premise of the verse. When I say I want to explore our muses in every possible scenario, I mean it - so if you're ever torn on options for a meme, or you've got a "well... we could do this, but we could also do this," situation, there is a high probability I'm just going to send you the "both is good" meme and ask what we're calling both of them.

Seriously. I have enough threads in enough verses going on with @climatact that I had to put together a thread directory. And I love every single one of them.

♥ Exploring canon-divergent "what if" scenarios is my favorite. Off the top of my head, some of the verses I've helped create or been a part of have been based around questions like these (shoutout to those reading their questions or ones we've discussed here, y'all know who you are):

• what if robin had found her way to the north & joined the donquixote family after aokiji sent her on her way from ohara? • what if bellemere had lived, nami had followed in her footsteps to become a marine, law & corazon had had more time together, and their search for a cure had taken them as far as the east? • what if law had stayed with the donquixote family (willingly or not?)

tl:dr; i love them. ask them. let's build verses from them!

♥ Other things I love building verses off of? Shared interests, tropes, and favorite fandoms.

• ❛ Oh, hey. I love Greek mythology. You too? Cool let's build a verse where our muses are gods & goddesses. ❜ • ❛ Found family trope?! Absolutely, let's do it. ❜ • ❛ You watched Noragami too? We should build a Noragami verse for them! ❜

♥ The point is, I love verses. Give them to me - all of them. :3 And for a list of fandoms I'm familiar with, please click here (updated 3/28/2024). If you see anything on it you'd like to explore a verse for, give me a shout! (There are a few on there I'd need to revisit to shake my brain awake for, but I wouldn't mention them if I wasn't interested enough to make a verse up for.)

Other PSAs: Memes, Plotting, On Verses & Verse-Building, General RP Preferences (Coming Soon), OOC interactions (Coming Soon), Mutuals & Affiliates (Coming Soon), ALL PSAs.

#✦ — 𝐨𝐨𝐜. | psa. #✦ — 𝐨𝐨𝐜. | misc. #✦ — 𝐨𝐨𝐜. | PSAs on interacting.

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 27: Survivor's Guilt (Sky & Hyrule)

AO3 link. Warnings: lots of guilt, this is technically the aftermath of torture but that's not really mentioned

OKAY SO this is not the end of this storyline like I said it would be XD. This chapter was not cooperating with me so I'm splitting it up and the last part will come tomorrow for the "you're safe now" prompt. That one will chronologically come before this one, so I might switch the chapter orders tomorrow, too.

This is a continuation of yesterday's Rope Burns (Hyrule) and takes place the night after Hyrule was rescued.

Part 4/5. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

Sky watched from across the camp as Hyrule’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier, but he refused to let them close. He was curled into Legend’s side, and the veteran had both arms wrapped around him protectively. Every few minutes Legend would whisper something in his ear, but Hyrule would shake his head and tighten his grip on his mountain of borrowed blankets. 

It lasted long into the night, after the other heroes had succumbed to sleep. Sky volunteered for the first watch, and he knew it was past his time to switch, but he also knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. 

A log on the fire cracked loudly, sending sparks flying into the air. Hyrule flinched violently, curling tighter into Legend’s side. Legend stroked his hair and looked up at Sky with pleading eyes. Sky sighed and gave up pretending not to watch, quietly but swiftly making his way across the camp. 

He made sure his steps were loud enough to get Hyrule’s attention as he settled on his other side. Hyrule glanced at him briefly then went back to staring into the forest. 

“Is touch okay?” Sky asked. Hyrule’s eyes flicked back to Sky. He hesitated, then nodded silently. Sky readjusted the blankets over Hyrule’s shoulders then began rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

“You should rest,” Sky said. “Your body needs to heal. Your mind, too.”

Hyrule didn’t dignify that with a response. He frowned and continued staring into the forest. 

“I’ve been saying that for hours. He won’t listen,” Legend said. He sounded angry, but Sky knew he was just worried. He was certain Hyrule knew, too. They were both well familiar with Legend’s brand of affection. 

Sky sighed. Guilt burned within him, and his heart clenched with sympathy. Hyrule was scared. Sky didn’t blame him at all, after what he went through. 

Sky wracked his brain for a way to fix this, and his thoughts drifted back to the aftermath of his own adventure. He and Sun both craved each other’s company and couldn’t fall asleep alone for months. On particularly bad nights, when either of them was kept awake by nightmares or their own regrets, Sky would pull out his harp. He would play and Sun would sing until everything bad was driven from their minds. 

“I have an idea,” Sky said. He retrieved his harp from his bag and resettled by Hyrule’s back. 

“Music helps me fall asleep sometimes,” Sky explained as he plucked a few strings. Legend raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t seem like you have much trouble with that,” Legend said. Sky chuckled.

“Not usually, no. After my adventure, Sun and I both had trouble sleeping. This helped,” Sky explained. 

Hyrule was watching him with wide, expressive eyes. Sky smiled as he readjusted his harp and began to play. He got lost in the music for a while, and before he knew it Legend was gently tapping his arm. Legend gestured down at Hyrule with a soft smile. Hyrule’s eyes were closed and his face was relaxed.

“Finally,” Legend muttered. Hyrule didn’t stir. Sky tried to smile, but he couldn’t quite follow through. 

“I’m sorry,” Sky whispered. He wasn’t sure who he was saying it to, or what exactly he was apologizing for. He just needed it to be out in the air.

Legend shook his head. “I’m gonna say it’s not your fault, because it’s not, but I get it. I feel like shit, too.”

Sky sighed deeply and nodded his agreement. 

“I didn’t think he was ever going to sleep,” Legend muttered. 

“I’m glad I could help with that, at least,” Sky said. 

Legend shook his head again. “He finally trusts us enough to be vulnerable, and this is the shit he gets for it,” Legend said. He ran an aggravated hand through his hair. It was greasy and disheveled, like he had been repeating the motion all night.

“What do you mean?” Sky asked. 

Legend rolled his head back to stare at the stars. “I don’t know. I’m exhausted, nothing I say is going to make sense.”

Legend hesitated, mouth opening and closing. Sky settled himself more comfortably behind Hyrule, content to wait. 

“I’m glad he finally feels safe enough around us to be scared, I guess. Few months ago, that wouldn’t have happened. He shouldn’t fucking have to,” Legend finished. 

Sky nodded his agreement. His throat felt tight with emotion he couldn’t quite express. 

“It’s still not your fault,” Legend added. Sky glanced up at him in surprise. “From what he’s told me, his era’s monsters have been trying to get him for… ever. The infected ones were finally smart enough to pull it off.”

“I should’ve-”

“Stop it, Sky. Hyrule doesn’t need our protection. None of the younger ones do, as much as I hate to admit it. You’re the strongest swordsman of all of us, and ‘Rulie’s been fighting for as long as he can remember. If the two of you couldn’t stop this, there’s nothing any of us could have done.”

Sky let Legend’s words work their way into his mind. Legend was right, of course he was. Sky knew, logically, there was nothing more he could have done. Fi’s voice had been running through his mind with statistics all day. 

The knowledge didn’t make it any easier to watch Hyrule in pain. 

The words were stuck in his throat, but Legend seemed to read his mind. 

“Doesn’t make it easier,” Legend said. 

“We’re here now,” Sky said, voice quiet and shaky. 

Hyrule shifted in his sleep, subconsciously curling tighter into Legend’s side. 

“Yeah,” Legend said, wrapping his arms around Hyrule again. “We are."

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #febuwhump day 27 #survivor's guilt #fic #tw: #guilt #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fic #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu legend #ace writes

[drifloonz]

btw i never posted this but conceptual pokemon teams for steven. one is mainly pre-incident while the one after is After The Incident ( since yk he canonically releases all his pokemon and goes willingly broke after miki dies. )

pre incident team ( he released like all of these. except miki obviously ):

post incident:

reasonings below ( its long i apologize )

PRE-INCIDENT TEAM ; here's a discord screenshot i put for general info lol anyways suicide cw in the screenshot ( just a mention though but yk. heavy shit )

miki - its miki. do you need me to give explanation. part of me just kind of took a few strangled red fics interpretation of why/how steven has miki ( aka he found her in the rain in pallet town and he didnt even wanna be a trainer - inspired by faulty on ao3 )

pidgeot - first pokemon caught other than miki for probably obvious reasons. he also needed a pokemon to use fly - a lot of his pre incident team is just for tms or for backup but he used like almost exclusively miki bc mikis OVERPOWERED

haunter - steven doesnt go into pokemon tower until after the incident, but i like to think somehow he met a gastly and it just kept following him until he caught it. ( im too lazy to remake the team but bc of this it prob should b a gastly in this image )

Fun fact; Personally i think the gastly in Strangled that lets you into his house is his gastly. why the fuck else would it be there. after steven releases all his mons it still follows him around and tries to get people to help them by moving the stones that block his house, but accidentally makes it worse bc steven just attacks people who come into his home at that time. oopsy.

sandshrew - i dont have a lot to say abt this one it just kinda fits + for tms probably ( sandshrew. learns a lot of tms. )

lapras - likely just for surf but theres probably more i could add to this my brains just not thinking

chansey - gifted by daisy! either as a happiny or just. as a chansey. it's honestly more of an emotional support mon than it is an actual battling mon

_______

POST INCIDENT TEAM ; ( once again discord screenshot w general info )

there's more post-incident teams, i made like 3, which is why it says he has pokemon that it doesnt seem like he has in the second images. few notable examples are zoroark, gallade, chandelure, hydreigon, gourgeist, and phantump ( ... the phantump is probably a kid he killed ( maybe in strangled ) that follows him arnd since he probably lives in a forest LOL )

miki - she's now fucked up and glitched since its post-incident. he technically has multiple fucked up missingno'd versions of her canonically. Do not ask why

mega absol - it's a disaster pokemon. it follows him arnd and doesn't leave him around bc he's constantly got disasters happening arnd him. he IS the disaster at this point. also i kind of stole this concept from a steven twitter rp account, iirc bc its a really good concept. i like to think he kind of resents it but he still technically Has it

mega houndoom - u can't tell me he wouldn't have a houndoom. steven HAS dog owner energy. also absol and houndoom r mega just bc i think they go hard and their designs fit better w steven. idk if steven would actually have mega evolution shit.

mawile - he would. idk why but he would

staraptor - he doesnt have pidgeot anymore so he got a staraptor, ig. i don't know why he'd have one it just fits

luxray - literally all of these last 3 boil down to "it just fits."

#wispy chatters #headcanons #steven strangled red

[daisychainsandbowties]

hey, quick wot question (i don’t wanna google it and risk getting spoiled😬)

I just found out 208 is the finale and I somehow thought there’d be 10 episodes this season. honestly thought there was some more developing to come before the finale. so I was wondering, was this season one book or bits and pieces of an overreaching arc from a few books?

this is a tricky one to answer because… technically s2 has bits and pieces from like five books lmao. but mostly small things. some character arcs are from book 3 (others are entirely made up for some reason) but it does seem as though the finale of this season will roughly follow the end of book two. there are definitely chunks of book three in there (as i suspected there would be, and other things from that book i hope to god are still coming and not just dropped), and then… scatterings of other books. but in terms of narrative arc i’d align it roughly with book two.

this next part is not really answering your question but there aren’t any spoilers either. just ranting ig

yeah i agree with what you’re saying about development. i’ve been struggling to tell if my moments of “hmm… was that… made clear enough? was that earned?” were just my book brain seeking the familiar connective tissue of RJ’s narrative structure, but i have started to worry that my mom (gleefully unwilling to even listen to me explain things) will not be able to follow what’s happening in season 2 as much as i feel is necessary for someone like her to enjoy it.

they’ve made some choices i flatly dislike (taking siuan’s scenes and giving them to other characters, and actually everything that happened with siuan last episode “she would not fucking-”) others choices that genuinely bored me. i should be 👁️👁️😍😍 at my screen all the time as a book fan but the warder storyline… the stuff with moiraine’s family. i was like… cool when is it egwene & elayne & nynaeve and (gay brain) lanfear time again. and to be clear i like moiraine so so much, i like lan so so much, and i was so looking forward to their little divorce but stuck in our get-along t-shirt arc this season. but i was at times just feeling too ‘???’ why is any of this happening right now to be engaged with things.

and then also just aware of them not?? really getting my blorbos at times?? like lan not even going “you’re accusing fucking ME, al’lan mandragoran lord of the seven towers true blade of malkier, of being a darkfriend?? 🤨 be so fr right now.”

i wanted so badly to have the best time with this show and i was benefit of the doubt again and again but they’re losing my trust. (lost it, with making siuan do THAT for whump) i walked away from last episode feeling physically ill for the wrong reasons, and i get not everyone feels this way but i’m… a bit numb about tonight. emotionally detached. i wish i didn’t feel so bad (obviously) but!! anyway the books are still a lot of fun to read and i’m hoping they at least give egwene what she’s earned this season (a hug, and also murder)

#sorry this turned into casper complain but. he does 🥺😔 #not main tagging this #i hope the first part helped lmao #ask

[bandtrees]

hello o//

i heard you had a fursona and i was curious to know about them if you’re willing to share :]

(/nf of course)

oh of course!!! :]] here he is!

i <3 robot furries so he's a robot dog! i based him most obviously off of transformers (specifically idw tailgate and ironfist) (named kibble both cuz dog and cuz that's the term in transformers fandom for extraneous robot-parts that don't serve much purpose on a 'human' body ie wheels etc) but i also wanted to, in 2024 redesigning him for this ref sheet, make him a bit easier to follow as an anthro dog design and able to be worked into furry stuff, while still being visibly mechanical ^_^

in the ways of lore i really don't have much for him - honestly he's just a standin for myself - but i have the concept that he was made to be a sort of living computer. genius database, future of technology, etc... but his storage capacity's small and his scope of interests even smaller, so he doesn't really have much actually technically helpful knowledge... he does, however, have encyclopedic levels of knowledge about nonsense things like tvtropes and trivia for whatever show he's into now.

(^really this is just a way (FOR ME PERSONALLY i should say as i know 'autistic robot' is a bad stereotype for a reason) to express autism as that's what it feels like for me a lot of the time. having a lot of passion and drive to learn but only in the few things your brain's latched onto - and of course the social hurdles that will come with being a robot in 'human'(furry?) society)

he's very inexpressive - doesn't have pupils, doesn't blink, has no mouth (the robotic muzzle isn't a mask, it's just what his face looks like), and i imagine he speaks mechanically too (i waffle between making him mute, giving him a text-to-speech type thing, or limiting his communication to pulling up webpages haha)

he's also one of those fursonas that has a few different designs and such depending on the 'verse, i've drawn him in the context of transformers designs for selfshipping a few times (specifically w/ mtmte first aid, and moreso idw/es tarantulas) and i should do that again :] depending on the situation his design falls in many different places along the furry-mech scale lolol

to get real: i've been a furry and had fursonas since. like. im gonna say as far as 2008, since i was very small :]c but kibble's the first one in a long time i feel actually suits me in both a "feels like me" sense and a "fun character to draw with some degree of fun fantasy" - cuz for a long stretch of time, when i stopped being into sparklecats and the like as a teenager, i fell hard into the "truesona" type of furry designs...

...which, nothing wrong with those, but as someone with crummy self esteem, just kind of led to me hyperfocusing on myself as a kind of "boring slob" type of character. not interesting enough to be anything but a plainly colored realistic animal, and too self-conscious about my appearance to feel too comfortable straying from "fat, depressed, tired and messy slob", as to portray myself as anything but that felt dishonest.

until one day, and this was at the height of my transformers hyperfixation so i'd grown attached to very inhuman robot-y designs, i just kind of realized, "hey, if i wanted, i could make my sona anything i want, right? i like robots and my friends compare me to dogs, i could make a robot dog! i could have fun designing a mech anthro dog!" and. i did lol. and it's the happiest i've been with a fursona, both from a design standpoint and a 'me' standpoint :]]

thank you for the ask! sorry for suddenly getting so real, i don't think you expected me to, kibble as an oc just means a lot to me :'D

(i also have other, non-sona, furry ocs if you ever wanna hear about furry boy band drama lol. i only recently reopened asks again so i'm trying to get more comfortable with em despite my constant Inbox Paranoia. ty again!!)

#babbles #oc #furry #furry fandom #kibble #long posts

[isabellahawkes]

Simple Writing Advice I Wish I Followed When I Was Struggling

I’ve been struggling with my writing process for the past year and a half. I started writing down advice, some of which I never hear, and some of which I’ve heard but it didn’t resonate until now. Hopefully this helps you if you feel stuck in your writing process.

1) Don’t hold tightly to a plan, outline, or concept. A major thing that stifles the quality, and sometimes the joy of, a story is holding too tightly to your original idea. Creating a story comes from our brains, but the truth is that we typically “find” a story more often than we perfectly construct it. This obviously feeds into the debate over whether you should plot your story before drafting it, or if you should discover the story as you write it. I personally cannot construct a full outline for a story because I get my best ideas through the process of writing. I’m also really impatient, so with my personality type, it’s better for me to plot at a bare minimum, and start writing until eventually more ideas start flowing. If you do outline, and then you discover a better idea that would change the story as you’re writing it, just go with that idea.

2) Embrace your process, even if it’s messy. Don’t base your writing process on what theoretically will make your work cleaner at the beginning. This is a specific piece of advice because I tried an approach to writing that was practically like rewriting the same chapter over and over so it would be clean to edit. I would write the dialogue and the skeletons of every scene first, and then I would write the whole thing over again with narrative. This idea might actually work for some people (so you should try it), but I will explain why it didn’t for me. It made the writing process so technical. I wasn’t personally immersed in writing the story. I was trying to be more efficient, and have a cleaner “first” draft. I’m not saying you shouldn’t try this method. But if you do try it, and find that you don’t like it, then it doesn’t actually “work” for you.

3) Don’t keep starting over your manuscript. There’s this one project that I was working on for years, only to realize that I needed to rewrite most of it. This is perfectly fine. But instead of finishing that first draft and seeing where it took me, I just started over when I had 25% left of the draft. I have started this project over around 6 times. If you count all of the outlines, it’s closer to 10 times. I’m not saying you should never start over writing your manuscript, but I do recommend not doing it more than once. I wrote the pilot episode draft of an adaptation, and I started over only once, after I had finished the first draft. It’s the most successful I’ve been moving forward with a project (which is still progressing so slowly). I think the most helpful writing advice for me is just to keep writing and push against writer’s block. If you have a passion for a project, don’t give up on the draft you’re on until you’ve found an ending to it.

4) Don’t take one person’s writing advice as the guide book for what your writing process should look like. The process that works best for you will be more efficient and, more importantly, fun for you. There’s nothing wrong with trying out new techniques, but sometimes we just choose to emulate other writers because we don’t trust ourselves. I feel like the writing community in certain corners online is obsessed with finding a formula for the “correct” writing process. I don’t think it’s necessary to cling to another writer’s piece of advice because you like them as a figure. I want to reiterate this because it sounds like common sense, but it’s also a trap I’ve fallen into. I would convince myself that my most efficient process was like a big time author’s, even when it was so apparent that it wasn’t because I would get stuck in the process every time.

5) The gist is, what is a vital part of your writing process? I don’t like outlining. I’ll do rough skeleton outlines for projects. However, I get stuck in the earliest phases of drafting every single time when I’m trying to have everything planned out in advance. Some plotters will argue that my outline just isn’t good enough. I’ll agree, because I don’t like outlining as much as I like drafting. The farthest I’ve ever progressed on an original story was when I kept drafting until I really hit my stride and figured out where I wanted the story to go. I regret that I didn’t finish that draft. I stopped because I realized I would need to rewrite most of it, as what I’d ended up writing would be better as the second book in the series instead. So I stopped that draft, instead of seeing it through to the end so I could have a better idea of where I wanted the overall story to go. This was a huge mistake I made, and I’m convinced it’s why I’ve never been able to even construct a definitive outline for the first book. I’m a writer who values drafting more than planning. I also value editing (don’t worry, plotters). So what makes the writing process more efficient and fun for me is not worrying about the first draft because I know I can fix everything in the editing stages.

What counts as a vital part of your writing process? What writing advice do you wish you had followed sooner?

#writerblr #writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writing advice #writing process

[walkingcorpse03]

hi!! I loved your anime recommendations, especially the ones about romance, I watched them all and I agree with you on them! so I wanted to ask you if you have more recs on the same genre :) or just ones that you really like please! thank you in advance!

Hello !!!! thank you so much for the ask !! I’m happy you liked the recs :)  I’d like to know more about your thoughts on them if you're comfortable because they are some of my favorites,, 

anyways, I’ve taken a break from anime for a while, but I do have a few more recs for you if you haven’t already seen them:  (this is a very weird mix of anime btw, the themes can jump from complete fluffy goodness to emotional damage so sorry in advance for the very mixed bag I have constructed for you)

1. Sasaki to Miyano

I love this anime so much, it’s so wholesome and it’s always refreshing to me to see lgbtq+ pairings that aren’t absolutely toxic. It follows a boy named Miyano and he slowly starts gaining feelings for Sasaki and coming to terms with his sexuality. All of the characters are super lovable too which is always a plus. Its short, light on angst, and a super cute watch! (Genre: Slice of Life, Romance / 13 Episodes) 

2. Orange

Orange put me through some things I’m not gonna lie. It was a very emotional watch for me and that’s why it’s so high up on the list. it’s a bit of a slower anime and it has a lot of layers, but I really enjoyed it personally. It kind of had similar vibes to My Little Monster, but it does have a darker plot. It also has a cool time travel/sci-fi twist without making it to technical (just how I like it). You can really feel for a lot of the characters and I think it makes for a very captivating story. I would recommend it to anyone. (Genre: Drama, Slice of Life, Romance / 13 Episodes)

3. Umibe no Etranger/The Stranger by the Shore

This is a movie, but it’s absolutely stunning. The art and animation is so cool and as an artist I really found myself appreciating the amount of detail. Every scene is gorgeous. It takes place on an island where two people re-connect and fall in love. There’s angst, happiness, and a really pretty vibe to the whole thing. It’s not my favorite, but I do think it’s worth a watch. (Genre: Drama, Romance) 

4. Beastars

okay hear me out-- This anime is a little out there, but genuinely really good. The characters being animals threw me off, but the story and the world is insanely well planned and thought out and I was hooked from episode one. It’s definitely not your typical romance, in fact it’s barely a romance, but its definitely present and a part of the the main storyline. It has dark themes and the storytelling is really good. I give this anime an 11/10 and I say that with my full chest. It's just really different from other shows and my pattern-scouting brain can normally guess the plot of an anime by episode three, but not this one, I genuinely had no idea where it was going.  (Genre: Drama, " Coming-of-age Drama Fantasy” / 2 Seasons)

5. Horimiya

Just a silly little anime that I did really like. Sometimes I like taking a break from stories that really drag me into the plot and the emotion and just watch lighthearted things that can take my mind off stress for a little bit, and this anime falls into that category. The characters are very modern and the story was actually really refreshing so if you're looking for something like that then this is definitely an anime you should consider watching,, the art style is also gorgeous.  (Genre: Romance, Shojo / 13 Episodes)

6. Romantic Killer

A funny/lighthearted anime to mix in with the group incase you would rather save yourself from any angst. It was corny and fun to watch and the art style is really bright and pretty. I also really liked the character designs. I really had to give the anime a good fighting chance, but I did like it after a few episodes. It follows a girl who finds herself stuck in all sorts of stereotypical/trope type romantic scenarios with multiple love interests and she’s just like “this is a no from me” the entire time and it made for a fun watch. It helped take my mind off the day to day, and it’s nice when a show can do that. (Genre: Romantic comedy, Comedy drama / 12 Episodes)

That’s all the romance/romance-ish recs I have at the moment, sorry it took me second to respond I wanted to sit down and answer it correctly when I had the time to do it,, but like I said, send me your full thoughts about them if you're comfortable I’d love to hear and I hope you like some of these ones as well!! 

- Have a nice day !!

#anime #anime recs #jaysmediarecs #sasaki and miyano #orange anime #umibe no etranger #beastars #horimiya #romantic killer #romance anime

[littleaxebad]

The Golden Hits

It is very late and I should be in bed but I do this for you...

If you thought I couldn't get any more cringe, you were wrong. In light of the fact that House of Ashes anniversary is coming up, I wanted to write something similar to my first HoA fanfiction, but instead of Jalim and colours, its Daric and Tom Jones.

As always, this is for @the-girl-who-flies and all of the other lovely people who have let this unlikely couple into their hearts.

[Mostly angst, light smut]

Happy HoAnniversary <3

xxx

Green, Green Grass of Home

Eric couldn’t go back to the way things were. His own apartment felt oppressive and foreign. In the deep of night his skin would tingle and itch, and he would wake up chasing ghosts. Pins and needles stung his hands through all his waking hours and his heart would hammer in this chest at the softest noise he couldn’t place. He would walk into his office each day, sit behind his desk and stare, waiting for a level of calm to settle before he could begin his day. Anxiety, the doctors told him, a completely reasonable response to experiencing war. Of course he couldn’t say what really had him by the throat, but they gave him pills to help him sleep regardless. Rachel had stayed behind, in the dust and augmented daylight of Iraq. Kay had stayed with her, which Eric had told himself he could not begrudge, and Kolchek was gone - Europe, maybe. None of it really mattered, as long as they could all deal with their trauma in whatever way worked best, it didn’t matter where they were - they were all joined by their experience. 

But Eric still felt incredibly alone.

I’m Coming Home

Eric’s apartment was tiny. The entryway had a three pronged coat hook that had only ever seen one coat. The kitchen appeared suddenly on the right, in fake semblance of a small room, but in reality it was only cut off from the living room by a high counter and a pillar. One chair up to the counter, one chest of drawers in the tiny bedroom, a double bed shoved against the far wall. One pathetic window lit up the living room - but enough space in the bathroom for a washing machine. It was Eric’s home, his sanctuary, his retreat. A place where he could shuffle around in his own personal dark cloud, stare out the window at the setting sun, or sit on his bed, running his fingers back and forth along the rough fabric of a worn green beret.

Only the shadows spoke to him here, and they spoke in words of loneliness.

(It Looks Like) I’ll Never Fall In Love Again

“Have you eaten anything this week?” “I eat, Rachel. You’re not my mother.” “Sorry, let me rephrase that - have you eaten anything that you cooked - not bought or blitzed in the microwave.” “Technically speaking, you don’t blitz noodles in the microwave.” “That’s really fucking mature, Eric. Your brain is too valuable for you to let your body waste away.” Eric remembered, once upon a time, that a compliment from Rachel could send his heart soaring. Now, it just drove home how far away she was. “Can we talk about something else?” “Othman has left the country.” “Jason’s friend?” “Something like that. Followed his kid.” Eric’s eyes drop from a spot on the wall to his feet as he shifts from left to right. “What about Dar?” “Basri?” There’s a pregnant pause, “I’m sorry Eric, I don’t know.”

Needles in his hands. His heart hammering again.

Not Responsible 

Eric went to sleep that night hoping to high heaven that Dar was alright. The last time he’d seen the man, Dar had been walking away from him into the desert. Eric knew, in the quiet, logical part of his brain, that if Othman was OK that should mean that Dar was too. How could one get away but not the other? But the louder, irrational part of his brain, screamed that Dar was dead - that he had been called a traitor and done in to save his honour. These painful thoughts, that came with waves of guilt, had not stopped Eric from trying to learn Arabic - maybe it would be in death they’d meet again, but at least he’d be able to say hello.

The darkness pressed in and Eric thrashed his leg impotently. He hated feeling like he wasn’t in control of his own body.

Help Yourself

Eric felt as though he had no choice but to throw himself into his work. CAELUS had been taken from him, but he was still a prominent member of the airforce, and his brain still worked exactly the way it had worked before (if you didn’t take into account all of the nightmares and anxiety and unexplainable feelings for a man who was probably dead). And without a project to focus on, Eric was free to allow his colleagues to take advantage of him. But it helped - if his mind was filled with calculations and measurements and formulas, the little whispering voices were forced to the back. But he had worked for himself for so long, with only Clarice in his ear - sometimes for days on end she was the only other person he saw - that sometimes he felt the bile rise up in the back of his throat and he had to force himself out of situations before he snapped and raged. 

I am Eric King, he thought, I am smarter than you could ever hope to be. 

What’s New Pussycat?

“Eric?” 

Rachel’s voice had trailed off at the other end of the phone as Eric hastily wrote down a calculation that had risen up in his mind. He wasn’t interested in the war, he wasn’t interested in having any more nightmares, he couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be completely still. But still, something in her voice drew him back.

“Hmm?”

“I know you haven’t heard a goddamn thing I’ve said, because I started talking about Nick and you had nothing shitty to say.” “I’m happy for you.” “No you’re not. But that’s far beyond the point, and can’t say I particularly care. I just thought you’d want to know that someone matching Basri’s description was seen at an airport in Turkey…Eric? Eric, are you listening to me?” A tactile fog had begun to fill Eric’s ears, pushing in on his skull and swallowing Rachel’s voice. But Dar was dead, he was dead and gone and Eric had moved on. Rachel was wrong. She was wrong.

The green beret still smelt of sand.

Love Me Tonight

Perhaps Rachel had felt responsible somehow, letting Eric drag himself home with his head hung, CAELUS ripped from him, guilt pressing impossibly heavy hands down on his shoulders. Death stained her hands with blood too - none of them were innocent; none of them were guilty. But it was not unusual for Eric to martyr himself on a cross of his own creation. Or perhaps Rachel was curious to see what the Iraqi Captain was doing. Suspicion was part of her job, after all. There was no denying putting them together would make things easier for her, killing two birds with one stone, as it were. If she could keep eyes on Barsi, if she could nudge him in the right direction, Eric wouldn’t be so fucking lonely, wouldn’t feel so fucking guilty, would have a reason to eat something other than fucking packet ramen. 

Easier said than done, but she was Rachel King: Queen Bitch. And she’d survived things worse than bureaucracy.

It’s Not Unusual

Eric dreamt of Dar; of the fear of leaving him behind in endless catacombs; of the screams of the man in the throes of death. He woke up in a bind of electricity, breath caught in his throat. He stumbled out of bed, temporarily confused by his own imbalance, and dropped heavily to the floor. There he stayed, cheek pressed against the hardwood patterned linoleum tiles. The cold infiltrated his mind, calmed his breathing, steadied his shaking limbs. He stayed still for long moments, confused and unable to recall his dream. With his good leg, Eric kicked the chest of drawers, knocking the green beret to the floor. He buried his face in the fabric, running his fingers along the stitching, counting in squares of four. Eventually the nightmares had to subside, his therapist had told him he was making great progress. 

Grey light filtered in through the flimsy curtains. Eric got up and began to get ready for work.

Funny Familiar Forgotten Feelings

Dar’s face was more drawn than Eric remembered - thinner, with darker circles around the eyes. His hair showed grey patches around the temples. He looked unfed and he looked tired. He looked almost like a ghost. He stood on the stoop, bag in hand, haggard from travel, probably Rachel’s doing, how else would he have found me, I must be dreaming I must be dreaming I must be… “Eric?” An awkward pause. “Would you like to come in?” Eric moved to the side as much as he was able. His body felt useless and numb. How long had it been - weeks? Months? It felt like a lifetime. Eric didn’t offer to take Dar’s coat, or his bag. Dar discarded them himself. Eric was barely able to wander around after the Iraqi, mumbling when prompted. “Yes, it’s quite small… very small… this is the kitchen… well, you see… it’s just for me, after all… no, I don’t have a bath…” Once Dar had made an opinionated tour of the apartment, he helped himself to the couch. “It wasn’t easy, was it?” Eric didn’t know how to properly articulate himself. His Arabic felt embarrassingly inadequate.     “Yes.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Dar looked over his shoulder at Eric, who was standing in between the bedroom and the kitchen, wringing his tingly hands. There was an immense sadness in Dar’s eyes - the kind of sadness that can only come from giving up everything you’ve ever known for the sake of self preservation. Eric’s feet walked him over to the couch to sit down next to his guest. 

The coat hook felt the weight of a second coat for the first time. 

Detroit City

Eric wasn’t really sure where to take Dar. Everything seemed tacky and tasteless. American food was bland, it’s entertained stock-standard, it’s people were either snobby or nosey with no in between. The traffic was loud, the air was choked, and the ugly stares were so apparent Eric felt like he couldn’t even take Dar to the grocery store. But the other man was stubborn and inquisitive: the exact opposite to Eric in every way. He loved the large cars, laughed at the people, and absolutely hated the food. The Iraqi’s presence didn’t fix everything, of course. It was difficult to squash the two grown men into a double bed, but there was no question of Eric sending Dar away. He hadn’t asked, but he wasn’t certain Dar was here in the strictest legal sense. Eric still had nightmares, woke up in the same state of disconnect - but now there was someone with him, not particularly comforting, but grounding. The guilt had lessened, but it would never truely go away. Eric had not realised he was carrying around the guilt of believing Dar was dead - the guilt of deciding it was easier that way. What would Rachel say - that he always had to have it the worst. 

This did not feel like ‘the worst’ to him.

With These Hands

Dar could cook. Eric tried to hide his surprise; just because he couldn’t cook, didn’t mean that no man could. Eric unfortunately wasn’t in the Fortune 500, but he made enough to buy Dar the spices and ingredients he needed to fill their tiny apartment with the most amazing smells. Sometimes Eric would help - but not every day. Most nights he came home exhausted - this was no different from before Dar, but there had seemed no point in acknowledging his own body. Take out, noodles, a frozen meal. Those were the things that waited at home for him. A bit of TV. A shower. Bed. But now he found himself kneading dough and mixing sauces and trying things he had never even heard of before. Sometimes Dar would cook something from scratch, or sometimes he would take “an offensive American dish” and make it acceptable. 

It was a Sunday when Dar taught him how to make bread. Eric had to take a cold shower afterwards and he had no idea why.

A Minute of Your Time

“You work too much.” Dar was never fluffy with his words. It was unlike him to march around a subject, in either English or Arabic. Eric sometimes found it abrasive, but not abrasive like sandpaper, more like a rough towel.  “I have to feed both of us.” “I could work.” “Oh?” Eric didn’t mean the enunciation to sound as sarcastic as it did.  “The market.” Dar didn’t speak as though it were below him; to go from a Captain in the Republican Guard to selling spices to white women who couldn’t even pronounce them. To him, there was nothing dishonourable about earning a living. There was nothing degrading about self-sufficiency.  ‘But I would miss coming home to your cooking,’ Eric wanted to say. Instead he said, “I think that sounds great.”

He didn’t have a monopoly on Dar’s time, no matter how much he wished he did.

Without Love

The apartment always felt oppressively lonely when Eric got home first. But the darkness didn’t make his hands shake and the silence didn’t make his heart pound. He would stand in the kitchen and roll up his sleeves and try to imagine what Dar would do… what Dar would want to eat when he got home. “When did I become so domestic?” Eric asked himself, looking into the fridge for inspiration.  Dar never criticised his cooking - he offered pointers as though Eric had submitted a school report. It wasn’t condescending, but it was undeniable that Dar enjoyed it a little bit. This night, of all nights, Eric had attempted spaghetti. The vegetables were a bit too roughly chopped and the pasta was ‘all dented’. Eric rested his hand on his chin and watched Dar looked pleased with himself. Leaning over to kiss the other man seemed so natural, like a flower turning its face to the sun. Fingers in Eric’s hair pulled him closer.

Who put this table in the way?

Delilah

Dar’s weight was pressing Eric down into the mattress, their hearts thumping together, skin hot and slick to the touch. Dar’s lips were on his neck, marking it; claiming him. Intertwined fingers above Eric’s head, his free hand kneading idle patterns into Dar’s soft skin. A palm traced a wide line down his torso, stopping just short of release - Eric moaned into the kiss, pushing them together harder, beyond caring that his body was begging, pinpricks of pleasure travelling down his spine. There was a chuckle; a warm breeze against the base of Eric’s skull. “I thought about you, always.” Eric couldn’t find his words to respond. He nudged their faces closer, trying to communicate with the rhythm of his pulse. “Eager.” It wasn’t a question.  Dar moved his hands down to Eric’s hips, aligning them, the best he knew how, to grind their pleasure together. Their tongues found each other in the confusion, Eric biting down on Dar’s lower lip, trying to trap the sounds that were threatening to escape from him. There was no space between them, no whisper of air to seperate their bodies. Eric felt possessed, and would have sold his soul if only God would let him live for this man.

“Forgive me,” Eric whispered, as his orgasm flooded his body with ice, “I just can’t take anymore.”

#house of ashes #Eric king #dar basri #daric #hoa #fanfiction

[2centsnobodyasked4]

Dear Josue,

Just like the previous two boys I've written to, you were also a first crush. You were officially my first REAL crush though, the first one I obsessed about and whose face I still remember.

Lets go back to second grade.

So I lived in Mexico with my grandparents until I was six years old. My mom was living in the United States where she gave birth to my brother so they were now living there. When I was going to enter 2nd grade my mom asked if I wanted to go live with her which of course I was so excited. I had missed her so much. My mom was living with one of her sisters (my aunt) who had two daughters, lexi and mickey. My mom was technically and illegal immigrant. She had crossed legally with a tourist visa, but just overstayed her welcome. She worked as house keeper for a very long time, even while my brother was a baby. I'm so proud of my mom for her hustle, she really is my hero. Anyway, so my mom enrolled me in the elementary near by where because my birthday was late in September they had argued that I should be placed in 1st grade. My mom was not having any of it. She argued that I was already in 1st grade in Mexico and that I needed to go on into 2nd grade. According to my mom, they had me take a couple of exams and determined that I was in fact smart enough to be placed in the 2nd grade.

Now, I dont remember if I was in ESL classes or bilingual classes, I'm not familiar with the program i was placed in. I just know that the class was in Spanish with some English sprinkled in.

So anyway, one of my classmates was this beautiful boy, you.

You really were the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. I still have our class picture, and I can still see the you were the cutest in the class. As I started telling my friends about my crush, suddenly I discovered that I was not the only one under your spell. Who could even blame them. Of course we were all too young for you to even care. It was just all of us girls swooning over you.

Now I'm not sure if you were only my classmate in 2nd grade, but I do know that my crush lasted during 3rd and 4th grade. Every time I would see you in the playground, there I was stalking you with my eyes. I remember we would even go on the same bus, so i lowkey knew where you lived. One of my aunts lived near you so a lot of times I would beg my mom for us to drive by your house, she had no idea why. I just kept telling her "I just want to look at the houses here". Damn, my stalker years really started off when i was young.

The only memory I can think of right now of "interaction" that we had, wasn't even really a one on one. But since it was humiliating it stuck in my brain.

So at home, my mom would always playfully spank me and say "andele". So one day in class I did that to my female friend. Playfully I came behind her and spanked her while saying "andele" which just means 'there you go'. So a boy saw me and was shook and went over to tell you. I was right there when he told you the following....keep in mind, we were like 7 years old, "do you know what a lesbian is?" you nodded your head, "well, thats what she is, she just spanked her". Um excuse me sir, what? To be honest, i dont think I even knew what a lesbian was, but i used context clues to figure it out. I was just embarrassed on being called out liked that and that it was now what you thought of me. But in fact, I dont think we ever actually crossed any words. It was just my villain stalker origin story.

Like I said, my crush lasted a good 3 years (2nd, 3rd, and 4th grade). When it came down for middle school, I had moved so I was now going to a different school in a whole different part of town. So no one that I grew up with was going to be there. And I thought I was never going to see you again.....WRONG.

Years had passed, and my life had changed. Last time I had seen you I was around 9 years old, and all of a sudden here I was 13 years old seeing you again. I actually saw all my old friends but that's a story for a different time. I knew the second I saw you that it was you. Of course you were so much taller, a big bigger, but your beautiful face was still the same. I no longer had any feelings for you, but seeing you from far away was enough for a closure. I just turned around and walked away.

Will I ever see you again? Eh, I probably have but I just didnt realize. But, I'll just keep you in my childhood memory.

EDIT: OMG! I decided to look you up on fb, and I have a friend in common with you (who happened to be my best friend back in 2nd grade), and DAMMMMNN BOY! You look fineee! If I wasn't married and pregnant I'd be sliding in your DM's...just kidding. I'd be too chicken.

#tatb #letter 3

[speakingagain]

Hi,

I'm Mae, I'm 24 years old and tired of giving a shit. I have created this blog for a few reasons. As stated in the description, I have a lot to say but never say it. This is a bad habit that I've had for many years and it has negatively impacted me in multiple ways.

I struggle greatly with opening up, trusting others and letting myself be vulnerable with anyone but my dog. That's not exactly healthy. And I know that ideally, one should deal with mental health issues such as this one with a professional, like therapy.

However, I live in the US and as a part of the lower class, that's a whole ass joke. Insurance is expensive, therapy is expensive, I don't qualify for state provided insurance and even if I did, the waiting list to get seen is several months out, if not longer. And I'm honestly one slight inconvenience of losing my shit. So Tumblr it is.

This blog is not meant to gain a ton of views. I'm not looking for followers, likes, fame or anything of the like. I don't care about that and I don't care about your negative opinions on my issues and/or feelings. My life is too much of a dumpster fire as it is to really care. So if you have nothing nice or supporting to say, don't waste my time or yours by commenting. You will get blocked, and I'll think about it for like 15 minutes max before I get distracted by my own lack of attention span. I personally think it's a waste of both of our time.

I'd also like to make it clear that I am aware that I am the cause of most of my own problems. I make dumb decisions more often than not and that's something I'm trying to change. Hence the blog.

If you want to say something nice, funny or supporting, I do encourage it and because we can all use some positivity in our lives because the world is shitty enough as it is.

A little bit about me.... I have no life. I work overnights and have two jobs, as an RBT (registered behavioral tech) and as a QMAP (Qualified Medication Administering Person (because they needed to make a whole title of it apparently)). I got married at 19 because I was an idiot who was (and still is... lets be honest) desperate for love and support while also being a brat wanting to rebel from my family. I'm currently working on getting a divorce, but I'll be honest, it's not high on my priority list right now even though it definitely should be.

I have a dog, she is 10 years old, and a lab/pittbull mix. She's a big old goofy girl and she thinks she's a lap dog. She's the highlight of my life even though she has approximately 3 brain cells per day. Her favorite things involve being a crack head, stealing food, and forcefully cuddling anyone not strong enough to push her off (me and her grandma basically). She has weird habits like trying to hide her plush toys outside and then forgetting they exist. For the last 5 years I had her, she barked only a handful of times but since I moved back in with my mom, she has started barking regularly. I try to be mad about it but she sounds like a strangled turkey and it's honestly hilarious. She loves fireworks but is absolutely terrified of hot air balloons, I have no idea why.

I live with my Mom for a few reasons, like the rising cost of living, me getting a divorce and her being lonely. Sometimes we get on each other's nerves (like most mother/daughter relationships) but most of the time we just make wise cracks and talk shit and occasionally smoke the devil's lettuce together. Our favorite thing to do is watch TV together, vape and then sit under the stars in the summer and talk about whatever comes to mind and laugh until we get eaten alive by mosquitoes.

She also has a dog, but technically it's her boyfriends (he's just currently out of the country being a tech nerd). This dog, is also 10 years old, and is a weird Shiba inu/Chihuahua mix? That's our best guess. We were told by her breeder she was purebred Shiba inu but she looks weird and shakes as much as a Chihuahua does so we took a guess. She's sassy and spoiled but also adorable. She broke and dislocated her ankle last month while jumping out of the car and just had surgery the other day to repair it. She's been high on pain meds for the last 48 ish hours and it's both sad and hilarious because she is half shaved but also stares at the floor for 25 minutes trying to decide if she should lay down or not.

I have 3 siblings (technically 4, but that's unnecessarily complicated and he's kind of an asshole who I haven't seen more than 2 times in the last 7 years so it's fine). I have two older sisters and and older brother. They live across the eastern side of the US, living their best lives as they can. I like to think we are all super close but there's always long spans of time we just get so busy with our adult lives that we kind of forget each other exist and then after like a month and a half, someone sends a meme in the group chat and no one shuts up for the next 2 weeks. Family, am I right?

My father is for lack of better terms, an POS. He's uninvolved and we are all better off for it. He's a waste of time and space. I may go further into details in later posts where I explain my lengthy daddy issues, but honestly, he's a loser who looks like a fat and homeless hobbit but lives off his 80 something year old mother. Like I said, POS.

For my hobbies, I enjoy sleeping, being sarcastic, and pretty much anything involving art. Photography, drawing and painting are my favorites. I am attempting to learn how to tattoo but it's way harder than it looks and my motivation is about as consistent as my attention span. Non existent.

I'd compare it to trying to draw on raw chicken with a vibrator taped to a pen.

I love music and it's one of my main coping skills. I like metal, pop, and some rap. (I am proud and un proud of being able to rap with Nicki Minaj with Bottoms Up). And indie pop is a top favorite recently.

I am an introvert at heart but at the same time, I don't know how to shut up (as you can probably guess from this long ramble) and have little to no filter. A lot of people find me weird and unsettling. They aren't wrong. Sometimes I wish I was a proper extrovert because I think that if I had more self confidence (and the social battery to be around people) I'd have a lot more fun and have more memories beyond working and staying at home watching Supernatural or The Witcher (I'm a sucker for pretty boys).

I'd love to go out more, meet more people and experience life. I'd like to go clubbing and go to bars and socialize. Maybe have a hoe phase. I'd love to meet new people and make memories and have funny stories to tell my 13 cats when I'm old. But quite frankly, I hate people. I hate loud and crowded places. And I especially hate being touched. It generally comes down to me getting outside my comfort zone and also having friends who have time to do that shit. And money. That's a reoccurring problem for everyone though.

That's pretty much me, thanks for reading, and I'm proud if anyone actually read this whole thing. I appreciate each and every one of you, and I'm glad you're here. Don't give up on your mental health journey and take care of yourself, yeah?

Wish me good luck on my journey to get over the shit I've got going on in my brain, I'm gonna need it.

Picture is of my dorky dog, Sable 😊

#mental health #dogs #i have no idea #whoops