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alairroux · 1 month

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A little introduction into a fanfiction that I'll try to continue and finish. I hope you like it. It's based on Deadpool and Wolverine (only on that, not the whole franchise).

I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes, english isn't my first language :(

CHAPTER 1

"Children of stars, that's what we are"

The air was hot, thick and carried a sweet scent of fruit. Oh, to be fruit, to be rotten and still as sweet as ever, to still be desired at your worst. To be even sweeter than the prettiest of flowers. To rot with a purpose...

Weird things come to humans' minds when they're high, music blasting into their ears and while cooking something they have no idea how to cook actually. The same thing was happening to Alice. Her mind was elsewhere as her body was desperately clinging into this reality, such a funny combination. But here she was, peeling apart a pomegranate, while the mango cubes were sizzling on one of the pans. Music blaring into her ears, louder than her mind. A moment of relief. The chaos of thoughts stopped for a second, letting her take a breath without a fear of causing another outburst of voices. Having to reach for a joint wasn't on her to-do list for today, that's for sure, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

As her hands got covered in red, sticky juice while carefully peeling the fruit apart, her mind somehow managed to focus on the scene. The air was hot and heavy, filled with the weight of the upcoming storm, sticky with humidity, not even the AC could fight that. Filled with the smell of fruits spread out on the counter, the sizzling mango and freshly cut open pomegranate, of lemons resting nearby waiting to be used. It was rotten, but in that sweet way, filling her lungs with sticky sweetness, making it hard to breathe sometimes...

"Hi Allie, what ya doin'?!"

She jumped in place, suddenly pulled out from her focus. Turning around and taking one earbud out to face Wade. All happy and excited. Did that man even have a different setting?

"Cooking. Don't scare me like that when I have a knife in hand."

"Afraid I might like it?"

"Sometimes I forget you're completely insane."

She muttered, turning back and peeling the fruit apart, in the meantime turning the heat off under the mango so it wouldn't burn. She was peeling the fruit apart gently, each section. Juice staining her hands red but the seeds weren't flying around, she was careful with it, after all cleaning the whole kitchen like it was a murder scene wasn’t really in her plans or tonight. Her mind felt a bit hazy again as she shook the open fruit over the bowl to empty it at least a bit.

“You were smoking again, weren’t you?” he asked with a serious tone in his voice.

“It got loud again. I needed a way out, before I end up like you.”

“You don’t need to be rude to me all the time. you know? Second, you mean the voices?”

“Sorry,” it was sincere, “I told you I don’t like it when you call it the voices. They’re much more than that, unfortunately. Or it is much more to be precise. It’s only my voice, speaking over and over again, and I can’t silence it. So I am willing to sacrifice a bit of my health to not go mental.”

“Fair. But maybe find a different way? It’ll end you…”

“Oh well…” she said with a simple shrug of her shoulders “I guess I’ll head out for a walk then.”

“High?”

“Yeah. If something happens, I’ll call you or Logan. Or Laura. I guess she’s the most responsible out of you three.”

“Rude again.”

“Bu-bu-boo”

“You spend too much time with Logan.”

She rolled her eyes at that with a hint of a smile on her face. Alice finished preparing the fruits and cleaned up the mess she made. She felt Wade watch over her as she prepared to leave. Sure, everything around was a bit blurred and shushed to some point, making the world a bit more bearable. She put the earphones back in, took her phone and just left the flat, sinking into the music playing in her ears, breathing in the heavy air, this time filling it with the unpleasant scent of the city, instead of fruits. Ugh, such a shame, that going on walks is connected to leaving such a perfect environment for something so disappointing.

But how did it happen that she knew the mighty Wolverine and not so mighty Deadpool? It was probably one of the fate cruel jokes that led to it. In short, being abandoned by your family can lead to meeting two people that are sort of like heroes and then them ‘adopting’ you. She didn’t regret that, but for now her mind was letting those memories slip away, her feet carrying her to her usual spot. Cassandra Nova… It was in her mind again. That topic of someone who almost destroyed the whole multiverse, someone so crazily powerful that got defeated by them. Why was she coming back to it? Why ever since hearing that story, her mind was wandering over to that person? To that stuck up, bald, void princess as Wade sometimes called her? Maybe, just maybe, it was about the fact that Alice was also a telepath. Not near as powerful as Cassandra, but sure she understood the pain and complications of being one. Or so she liked to believe that she did. After all it was possible that everyone had it differently and maybe she was the only one suffering from too many thoughts in her head at the same time.

She walked ahead of herself, her eyes stuck on the invisible horizon, hidden behind many buildings. It was a long walk to her favorite thinking place, she turned up the volume of her earphones, feeling almost like the song was now coursing through her veins, washing out any noise. Outside and inside. She felt the urge to just run, to chase the invisible sun, to see it set once more, to see hope disappear into the void of darkness just to reappear in the morning. Her heart beating faster, her lungs chasing after it, soon she was in motion against herself, picking up speed with each step, like she was escaping the feeling of insanity. To leave it all behind means to be free.

She ran for long, her red hair many times ending up in her eyes. She should touch up the roots though, they were already showing and that wasn’t good. Her lungs and throat filled with the burning sensation, she slowed down when finally reaching the bridge. It was as busy as ever but luckily with just cars, it was comfier when there were no people walking around and getting in her way. In the way of her small ritual.

She walked down to it, slowing her breath and following the pavement by the side of the road, watching the golden ray slowly disappear in the dark waters. One by one making the air and earth colder with each passing moment. When she reached about the middle of the bridge, she slowly pulled herself up to sit on the railing, her back to the sun. Watching the passing cars. Her mind is getting louder, not even music silencing it anymore. So the effects are wearing off. Such a shame. How long has she been running for? It’s a big distance. Few nice kilometers. Oh well, not like it was really that important right now.

She looked down on her hands, holding the railing tightly, she slowly let herself bend backwards as the last rays of sun sank into the waters. It was ironic that this was comforting. She was scared of heights and couldn’t swim, yet almost dangling over such a vast void was comforting, the thrill of being near death, the feeling of freedom mixing with adrenaline with each breath she took. The lights on the bridge were still off, so she could see the sky get painted with more and more stars each moment.

She looked up at the sky above her, a smile spreading on her lips on its own, her eyes filling with tears caused by the cold wind. Cassandra Nova… She came to her mind again. But why? Could she really be gone? Could a powerful being like that vanish from the Earth plane forever? With no trace left? Was it really the end of the story? Was it really that simple? Or maybe she was somewhere out there in the stars still? Reaching out to an open mind? Was it possible?

“If he was Xavier… Why were you Nova? Was it to be different? To not be seen as him? Maybe it was like a supernova? Or hypernova? Powerful event only some chosen by fate people will ever witness. To be significant, to fall under your own weight and desires. Was it all what you were meant to be? Power that collapses due to its own fault?”

Alice asked more herself than anyone else, her words barely a whisper carried on by the wind. She closed her eyes, sinking into the darkness of her own mind. To soft tones of music piercing it every now and then. On night like that, she was unable to calm her mind, to silence it and not come back to a topic that should be gone from it for a long time now.

“And if you were a telepath like me… Did you struggle the same? Was there a way to silence your thoughts? Or were you just left to be consumed by the void of your mind?”

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wisheduponastar · 1 year

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You’ll have to find the cat (I think he likes you) (2.3k words, M/M)

For Day 3 of @danganronpashipmonths Saiouma month. Inspired by the prompt : Wonderland AU

Shuichi decided to follow a white rabbit, for some reason. He's had his hat stolen by a magical cat, and now he's at a magical tea party with nonsense. But he does need to get out of here, and the only advice the Hatter can give him is to seek out the Cheshire Cat, because apparently the cat will like him. And after observing him for a bit, the cat decides he does like him - and comes out to play…

Or~ Shuichi takes the role of Alice, and Kokichi a more flirty Cheshire Cat. What could possibly happen when they meet? (With Rantaro appearing as the Mad Hatter)

Read on Ao3 or below

Shuichi was still trying to get his bearings in this place, and as he looked around he realised he wasn’t sure if joining the Hatter’s tea party had helped or not. In some ways the tea party had helped calm my nerves. Everything tasted so normal, and felt so real - that maybe this wasn’t just a hallucination. And in a way, being around the Hatter and the others had helped. They were more insane than him anyway. For now at least…

Thinking, he quickly took a sip of tea instead - cursing as he realised it was scorching hot. Immediately, Kirumi looked up, the eye he could see (the other seemed to be perpetually covered by her hair) and asked, “Are you quite alright?”

“As alright as you can be in this place,” interjected Rantaro, his words of wisdom losing some of their effect as his hat slid down suddenly, covering most of his hair. Pushing it up again, he briefly sighed, “Damn this hair.”

“Don’t you mean… this hat?” Shuichi ventured, knowing Rantaro seemed to be the most reasonable when it came to corrections.

“Of course not dumbass,” fired Miu suddenly from across the table, “If he meant his hat, he would’ve said his hat. It’s his hair that’s the problem!”

“Of course,” Shuichi reluctantly agreed, staying silent for a second before asking, “Why is it his hair's fault?”

“Why, is it not obvious you fuckin’ virgin?” Miu said again, clearly about to rant before Kirumi put up a black glove and interjected.

“Shuichi is new here, it is fair he does not understand our customs yet,” she gave Shuichi a small smile, “His hair should be supporting his hat, of course, yet for some reason it is not doing so.”

“It’s probably just cause he’s doin’ it wrong.”

“My hat works perfectly, thank you Miu,” Rantaro interjected calmly, “I made it, and I do not make mistakes.”

There was a small pause in the conversation, before Rantaro suddenly spoke up again, “Until I do, of course.”

What was the logic behind that statement? Shuichi shook his head again, he’d been here almost an hour - and there didn’t seem to be any logic in these people. In this place. Afterall, every time he’d reached for something he’d eaten there had been more food there - and sometimes food appeared in places there hadn’t been food in before. He’d tried to ask, but no-one had given helpful answers. Miu made fun of him, Kirumi gave a nonsensical explanation that only made sense to her and Rantaro, and Rantaro had kindly said that he shouldn’t worry about it, he should only be worried about death and its impendingness.

Looking around the table, a conversation had sparked between the Hatter and the Hare, Shuichi saw that Miu was just about to open her mouth again and begin to talk. Breathing in deeply, he announces suddenly, “I need to go.”

Everyone stares at him, and it’s at times like this he wishes he had his hat back (a cat stole in from him, he thinks). Eventually Kirumi smiles and nods, “Of course, where do you need to go? And are you sure you do not want to stay for tea?”

“Well, next tea-time,” Rantaro corrects with such sincerity Shuichi almost forgets how mad this is, “It’s already tea-time. It will be tea-time shortly as well, and we don’t want you missing that.”

“No, I really do need to go,” sitting up, Shuichi placed his cup down and left the chair, “Which way too..”

Seeing his hesitation, Rantaro let out a light laugh - this time grabbing his hat to stop it from falling, “Well, we can’t tell you if you don’t know where you’re going.”

“He should see the cat,” Kirumi suggested.

“That fucking loser Kokichi?” Miu suddenly interrupted, before looking at Shuichi, “Actually, you seem like the kind of person he’d be interested in.”

Shuichi tried to think of a person he’d met called Kokichi, instead just drawing blanks, and he instead asked, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re both shifty nerds, obviously.”

“Mui,” Rantaro’s voice didn’t change, but for a second his demeanour seemed to shift, “It’s ok Shuichi, we’ll all help you after tea is over.”

“But…” He almost didn’t want to point it out, “Your tea time never ends.”

“Oh yes,” Rantaro suddenly made perfect eye contact with Shuichi, “We’ll be no help at all. You’ll have to seek out Kokichi after all. Just keep going, turn three-hundred and sixty degrees, and then go left. He’ll probably appear.”

“Probably?”

“The cat’s a curious thing. Very fickle,” but Rantaro smiled, “But Miu is right, I think he’ll like you.”

“Coming from you, that’s not encouraging,” Shuichi said. But that just made them all laugh, with varying levels of politeness, until eventually Rantaro broke off from it, “It’s not meant to encourage you, it’s meant to be honest.”

He broke off suddenly, picking up his watch (out of the butter-dish) and frowned, “Ah, tea’s just started. Are you sure you won’t stay?”

Shuichi weighed up his options. But at the end of the day, if this Kokichi could help him get back to friends - then he would go to him. Because he needed to get back, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d exhausted every possibility. Finally moving, he stepped past all of them, taking one backward glance at the table and the fact that they’d all started talking again. He would’ve thought they had forgotten him, had Rantaro not briefly turned around and dipped his hat at Shuichi, before going back to talking.

Sighing slightly, Shuichi began to simply walk away instead - going back into the part of the forest he came from. Before long, everything seemed to have changed completely. Any noise from the tea-party had disappeared, although the place still had a strange musical ambiance. It almost sounded like a very quiet but very dramatic orchestra that was building up to a main piece. Shuichi also felt as if he was being watched.

But he didn’t feel scared, yet. The thing watching him didn’t seem to be malicious, and his intuition marked it as a more curious, playful sort of gaze rather than anything dangerous. Every now and then he would make a quick head movement to see if he could spot his observer, but all he heard was the sound of laughter.

Not that Shuichi was complaining. There was something comforting about the laughter, and in his mind he attached it to a picture of someone - his saviour. Someone nice, with a good sense of humour, who would look at Shuichi with a smile that could be carved in marble. He almost tripped while trying to imagine a smile, sending even more obvious laughter from within the boughs of trees.

That just made Shuichi think more. In… where he was from, there wasn’t as much potential for who he could date. But in this fantastical, mainly crazy place, he hoped it could maybe be a boy. Someone shorter than him, so when he hugged them he could hold them properly - and protect them. But someone with a good sense of humour, who was sharp enough to make him think. Shuichi’s ideal almost certainly wasn’t watching from the trees - but if he couldn’t dream here, where could he dream?

Eventually, while looking up at flowers that seemed to be made of crystal, and almost as tall as him - Shuichi finally tripped on something and fell over. More laughter followed, like usual, but it sounded much closer than usual. To Shuichi’s left, he assumed. Maybe a step away, maybe a little less. So, without thinking, he propelled himself upward - reaching out for where he thought someone would be.

And something slipped through his fingers. No, not something - someone. Shuichi could feel their pulse racing for the second he was touching them, and he suddenly hunched. He had just grabbed whoever was laughing. With no warning, and no time for them to prepare.

But instead of the disgusted silence he expected, he was greeted with a more distinct, more deliberate laugh, “Nishishi, were you trying to catch me, newbie?”

This time it sounded from above, and so Shuichi looked up - only to be met by a floating smile, nothing more, and nothing left. And then it moved and spoke, “Wow, you’re pretty observant for a completely new outsider. Did Hatter or the others tell you about me?”

“It depends,” Shuichi stood his ground, staring a little up from the smile - and to where he imagined eyes would be, “Are you… the cat? Umm… Kokichi?”

“Wow, you’ve got your facts all the right - I’m impressed,” the smile moved effortlessly from above him to next to him, “Do you know anything else?”

“You…” Shuichi couldn’t help but feel this was a test, “You have a pretty laugh?”

“Aww, are you trying to flatter me?” The voice moved closer, and Shuichi could feel the slightest touch on his chin, tilting his head towards the smile, “It’s working.”

The feeling of the touch, the smile - for a second Shuichi simply couldn’t do anything except stand there and feel his cheeks blush redder and redder. I mean, it was one thing to fantasise daydream about a mysterious laugh and who it might belong to, it was a completely different thing to tilt a stranger's head to look at you while whispering into their ear.

Then, eyes suddenly appeared; sparkling and bright and beautiful. An unnatural, but gorgeous shade of purple - staring directly and unabashedly into Shuichi’s. But it was the eyes that suddenly made it click for Shuichi, and he took a slight step back. “You- you stole my hat.”

“Huh?” The voice said immediately, the hand falling back (and with it contact that Shuichi definitely did not miss), before a more teasing tone came on, “But you’re not wearing a hat, silly!”

“No, I-I mean earlier. I came in here with a hat. I remember your eyes-”

“You were paying that much attention?” The face that was visible tilted slightly, as if the owner was thinking, “Ya know, I was onto something when I said you were flirting with me, wasn’t I?”

“That’s not it at all!” Shuichi said, trying not to let his blush get any worse, “I’m not trying to flirt, I just want my hat back!”

The eyes sunk slightly lower, and their sparkle dimmed slightly. Just those dimmed eyes were enough to tug of Shuichi’s heart, and when the playful smile suddenly drooped into a frown, his heart almost began to hurt. Struck by some sudden urge, Shuichi said, “Well- I mean, getting my hat back isn’t the only goal…?”

“So you are flirting!” And with just that, the sparkle and smile returned twice as bright as before, “I knew you liked me!”

“Wait- you’re just-no… well, I mean-”

Shuichi hadn’t been the best at talking in this Wonderland before all of this, but somehow he was doing an even worse job than before. Averting his eyes, Shuichi just tried to miserably look to the floor - only just noticing the second pair of shoes that had suddenly materialised.

Forgetting his misgivings, Shuichi began to look up again - this time seeing not only perfect face and eyes, but the entirety of their owner. And their owner was… beautiful. Dark purple hair with patches that became lighter as sunlight dappled on them, smoother skin that betrayed a dust of blush as well. Pristine white clothes, in an immaculate and incredibly formal dress - for some reason topped with a checkerboard neckpiece and colourful buttons. On his head was a black and gold cap, and in his hand was Shuichi’s.

“I don’t normally reveal myself to people, you know?” The boy was the first to break the silence, his vocals now accompanied by gestures that both fitted him perfectly and made Shuichi’s heart sing. “So, you’re pretty lucky. I guess we need to introduce each other now right?”

“Ummm, I think so?” Honestly, Shuichi was still looking at the boy in front of him.

“Well - I’m Kokichi Oma!” There was another sparkle in Kokichi’s eyes, “But most people from here call me the Cheshire Cat.”

“Why?”

“Hey - introduce yourself first, mister mysterious!” Shuichi was slightly taken back by the way he raised his voice, but Kokichi still seemed friendly enough. Nodding, Shuichi said, “Yeah… I guess you’re right, I’m Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you.”

“Your name is nice.”

“Thank you?” Almost any compliment from Kokichi sounded almost heaven-sent, but Shuichi was still sceptical at the same time, “Does that have a… hidden meaning, or whatever?”

“You’re so suspicious Shumai!”

“S-Shumai?”

“I give people who I like nicknames,” Kokichi said, rewarding Shuichi with another grin before suddenly coming closer, “Oh my god! Are you blushing?”

“What?” In fairness, Shuichi was - he could feel it, “I’m… naturally rosy. And I still want my hat back.”

“Which hat? This one?” In a single, rather elegant, swooping motion Kokichi took his own hat off his head, offering it to Shuichi while nestling Shuichi’s hat into his own hair. The hat should look ridiculous on him, but Shuichi thought he looked beautiful in it. Even if it was slightly out of place.

“Look, your hat won’t even fit me,” Shuichi tried to reason while smiling.

“Ok. Fine…” Kokichi looked around for a second, as though searching for inspiration, “I’ll give you it back. For a price.”

“A price?” Shuichi echoed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m not unreasonable!” A large smile took over Kokichi’s face, and he leaned in again, “I just want a kiss.”

“That’s- that’s completely unreasonable!” Shuichi managed to burst out after a second of stuttering (and a second of almost leaning in).

“Do you… not want to kiss me?” Kokichi suddenly began to fade until only a pair of eyes and a frown remained.

“No. Of course I do, it’s just-”

“So Shumai does want to kiss me?” Kokichi reappeared, and he had somehow got closer than before, within… kissing distance. His lips almost seemed to pucker, before he drew back, “But it’s ok if kissing is a big deal to you or whatever. I can always just take your blood.”

And then the sudden feeling of love sharply dimmed for a second, or at least it wasn't the only thing Shuichi could think about. Taking an instinctive step back, Shuichi simply asked, “Excuse me?”

#danganronpa ship month 2023 #saioma ship month 2023 #saioma fanfic #saiouma #kokichi oma #shuichi saihara #shuichi x kokichi #wonderland au #danganronpashipmonth2023 #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa x wonderland

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groovylizardgirl · 5 months

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Hey, A video post! Watch?

The video begins with Riley grinning widely at the camera, her sharp teeth gleaming in the Alolan sun. "Heya there guys gals 'n other pals!" She begins, "Well... Ya see, I was thinkin' to myself. Hey Riley, didn' you always wanna have some sorta protégé? and I says to myself.... No!

But then I did some more thinkin' yakno? An' maybe it wouldn't really be so bad to have a coupla lil TURDS followin' me around, doin chores n shit." Her grin widens as she looks past the camera and a very faint "hey!" can be heard in the background. "... Anyways, I gotta introduce 'em now, think that's how this Rotumblr shit works anyways."

The camera turns around to show a young boy, maybe 12-14 at most, drawing some designs into the sand. From the tiny bit that's visible, it appears to be some sort of personal flying machine. "This turd here is the one who likes listenin to my private videos!" Riley states, prompting the child to look up at her. He puffs his cheeks out in mock frustration, but his smile still shines through. He has brown curly hair and gap between his front teeth. He has comically large goggles on and cute lil freckles all over his face.

"Apparently this guy's name is friggin Axelgrease. Who the fuu....heck names their kids that?! We all just call 'im Axel. He's the big brain."

Axel waves at the camera before going back to his drawings with a thoughtful look.

Continuing on, Riley approaches another, albeit slightly older looking, kid. He's quite gaunt and lanky, with a bit of a greyish tinge to his skin, wearing all black despite what must be a hot day. He's frowning intensely as he stares out at the ocean.

"Aaand this ray of sunshine is Gnash! He uh. Looks a little busy so we're gonna just move on--" Riley starts to turn but is interrupted by a loud and angry HEY. She turns suddenly to Gnash glaring at her with his hands on his hips.

"You FORGOT to introduce ALICE." He holds up a tarantula morph spinarak with a little red bow on it. It also looks angry.

"Damn! My bad lil dudes. That's Alice there in his hands!"

Gnash nods as the Spinarak trills happily. "Thank you."

Riley continues on for real this time, now arriving at a girl reading under a tree. She is completely adorned in a dark red gothic dress, complete with a face mask and bell hat. Only her red eyes and a bit of her pale face is visible. The girl notices Riley approaching and puts the book down, from her eyes creasing she appears to be smiling.

"This here is Silence! Say Hi Silence!"

The girl does not respond.

"Classic Silence! I call her Si sometimes. Silence is a lil bit of a mouthful. and a lil weird. No offense."

Silence snorts quietly and returns to her book.

Riley turns the camera back to herself.

"Bahaha! Now you guys've seen my new dudes. Um. They kinda insist on calling us a gang, 'm trying to tell them to like, not say that, but I gotta admit it feels kinda nice bein' looked up to so much. Ain't used to that.

....

Anyways, I know I can't just let them follow me forever but..."

She trails off and looks down.

"... I... I don't think they have parents, guys."

The video ends.

#my writing #writing #teehee longer than i meant it to be #the kids #pokemon irl #rotumblr #pokeblogging #ic #pokeblog rp #pokemon rp #axelgrease #gnash and alice #silence #riley red rose #story stuff

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m4rsd1ed · 1 year

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He Saved Me || Part 2: Confronting Some Issues

-----Morgan's POV---- (Chapter warnings: family issues, trauma, eating problems, self harm)

After Norman moved in with me and mom, things have gotten a lot more different. But, nonetheless he is family.

"Norman!" I shouted. "Dinner's ready slowpoke!"

"Okay!" Norman's often late to dinner. But, I still love him..after everything he's been through..

You see, Norman's mother is abusive. Always smoking, drinking, and some of everything.

It all started with a simple text thread, then from there, mom and I took action.

(A/n: This is a text thread, that's why the text is on opposite sides.)

4/25 3:45pm Norman

Morgan, can we talk? Read 3:45

Morgan

Yeah ofc my guy Read 3:45

Norman I need somewhere to live... Read 3:46

Morgan

What do you mean?? Read 3:46

Norman

I got kicked out.. Read 3:47

Morgan

Why what happened?? Read 3:47

Norman I'll explain later but can I stay with you Delivered

Please Read 3:48

Morgan Yeah ofc lemme tell my mom and then I'll get set up Read 3:48

Norman Thanks... Read 3:49

Morgan Anytime :) Read 3:50 ________________________________

I knew Norman's mom was abusive but how come no one saw the signs of it in public? All the bruises him and his sister had, the cuts on Normans arms....it's heartbreaking as hell...

I looked out the window and it began to rain. Norman.... I hope you're okay out there... his house is outside of Wishington in a neighborhood because of his mother wanting be 'away from the dangers of this unclean society'. I mean, Miss Catherine is f'd up in the mind because of her addiction. I heard a ring at the doorbell. Was it him? Norman texted me earlier..so it's a yes. It's cold, 8 at night, and raining...what in the hell is he doing out in this weather? His mom officially kicked him out.. he said.

------Maria's POV-----

I heard the doorbell ring while I was making dinner for me and Morgan. "Who could it be at this hour?" I asked myself, opening the door.... it was Norman! "Norman, sweetheart?" "What are you doin' out in this weather?" He explains that Catherine kicked him out. "C'mon in sweetheart, don't wanna get sick now do we?" I lead him inside placing some hot pirogies on the coffee table. Trying to warm him up.

"Mom!" I heard Morgan shout. "Is everything- Norman..? You okay?" Morgan touches his shoulder. Norman started to breathe heavily and slapped Morgan's hand and ran to the bathroom.

"Morgan, honey you must've triggered something in his mind.." I place my hand on his shoulder. Catherine...what have you done to your poor son?! He doesn't deserve this! If you weren't smuggling drugs and abusing both your children; they would be in a better place!

------Norman's POV------

"D-don't touch me!" I shouted. From there, I ran into the bathroom locking the door. 'It still stings from when mom hit me there' I thought. I hyperventilated while I was in there; recounting all the trauma, wishing I could've saved Alice earlier...mom's addiction... 'JUST NO! Stop all those thoughts! You're safe!' Half of my mind shouted.

"Hey, Norman?" Morgan knocks on the door. "Do you wanna talk about it? Or if you feel comfortable talking to me from the bathroom we can." His voice is soft... like his mom's. I like his mom she makes me happy then again any female figure makes me feel happy I get attached easily but Maria was a true mother and always cared for me and my sister when needed.

"S-sure...but let's talk from each side of the door.."

I started to explain it all to him I see the shock in his eyes. He clearly didn't expect all that from what a perfect person I seem on the outside. I tell him about the abuse, her addictions, the effects it's had on me, I couldn't save Alice, for hell he barely even knew I had a sister in the first place.

He started jiggling the door handle wanting to come in. I unlocked the door and he slowly started to open it until it was wide enough for him to just barely slip in. He turns his back against mine and starts talking:

"How long?" he says

I respond with: "Pardon?"

"How long has this been happening?" He says again, his tone a slightly bit firm.

The room stays silent... the only noise is miss Maria's cooking in the background of this loud silence. I start to get flashbacks... a recollection of all the arguments __________________________________

"YOU'RE USELESS" Mom would say.. Then dad would clap back with.. "GOD CATHERINE, GET A LIFE GO FUCK YOURSELF" And mom said.. "I DIDN'T EVEN WANT ANOTHER CHILD" Dad always brought this up... And he was not wrong "HOW ABOUT YOU STOP PRACTICALLY FUCKING PEOPLE AT THE PARTIES YOU GO TO?! AND MAYBE PROVIDE FOR THE KIDS!" He's not wrong tho then my mom would always respond with this.. "OH I'M THE BAD ONE HERE?! YOU ARE ALWAYS AT "WORK" WHEN YOU'RE A MAN WHORE!" This was the last thing I heard my dad say before he left that day.. "WELL AT LEAST I DON'T SIT AND HOME ALL DAY ON MY ASS SMOKING!"

Then after that I heard a smack and a door slam then a beer bottle break one of the pieces even flew under my door that day I picked it up and cut my arms... that day Alice had to help me bandage myself up and during that I gave her headphone to listen into so she didn't have to hear the stupid fights.. but I couldn't defend myself if I had to step in. __________________________________

"And that's when I realized, my mom is a complete monster... completely fucked up by her addictions." I sob quietly. "My dad left her because of her, I've tried countless times to reach him but all those attempts fail; all my calls go to voicemail, I-I don't know where the actual hell he is!" I choked on my tears. Let them fall later, when no one's looking.

Miss Maria calls me and Morgan for dinner, I was cold from running away in that rain. So why not warm myself up...

-------Maria's POV------

"Morgan, did everything go okay between you and Norman?" I asked, I place my hand on his for comfort.

"Norman, sweetheart?" I softly asked he looked up with tears streaming down his face down to the inside of his shirt and he asked "yeah?" "You haven't touched your food yet is everything ok??" I ask. He jumps in shock and says "Oh yeah I'm fine it's all fine" I made his favorite dish of mine Placki ziemniaczane I know something is wrong I just can't figure out what. Morgan is eating very fast tho he looks like Norman told him a lot maybe Norman isn't as happy as he seems to be. Norman excused himself away from the table and says

"I'm not hungry right now I'm gonna go upstairs for a few I'll help with chores before I go to sleep..."

He's such a sweet kid, I just wish he had a better household environment but I promise I'll be the best guardian for him ever. Catherine... what the hell is in your deranged mind? Abusing him because your husband left you, you are completely fucked up in your mind. I have to say it now then later on.

"Okay sweetheart, that's fine." I smile and start to get the dishes started. "Morgan, don't you have classes tomorrow with Norman?"

"I do!" He had said as Norman walked off, I saw I on his arm that there were bandages was it... no it can't be.. I won't ask him now because he's in a fragile state at the moment so I should leave him be for now. Morgan shoved his food in his mouth and rushed upstairs with Norman. I'm so proud of Morgan; he's such good comfort for Norman... and I'll be a good guardian for him.. and I swear that on my life

Word count: 1,289 words

#mars writes 🌷#fanfic writer #wattpad #writing #he saved me

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ghostinthewalls · 3 years

Note

Hi bestie! I'm bored so can I have a creepypasta match-up please? Also sorry if this is really long.

So I'm a straight girl and I use she/her pronouns. Im a Leo and a ENTP. I'm 5'4 almost 5'5 I'm very pale and skinny, and I have freckles everywhere, especially on my face. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my mid back its kinda fluffy and it gets tangled pretty easily, I also have brown eyes.

My personality can be very strange when you first see me people say I have a resting bitch face and I look intimidating but when you actaully start to talk to me I can be very friendly and goofy! Almost everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcastic. I can be very stubborn, feisty and competitive when I want to be but I like to help people and I'll always listen to someone if they need it. Myself on the other hand hates to talk about my feelings and I'm very closed off, I don't tell anybody my problems and I try to ignore them until I explode basically.

The only way you can really describe me is as the idiot/sarcastic asshole in a friend group.

My style consists of flannels LOTS of flannels, oversized sweatshirts, ripped skinny jeans, tank tops, and band t-shirts. I also love wearing combat boots and converses.

You already know I love 90s and 80s (I personally think 90's is the best) but basically anything under the rock n roll genre I love. My favortie bands are Red Hot Chili Peppers, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden etc. I also like swimming and I was on a swim team for about 9 years and I've received many trophies, medals, ribbons etc. And I have a ton of weird stories from all those years of swimming.

Hey babes sorry for the wait,,,, HERE YOU GO!

I match you with🥁🥁..........

TIM WRIGHT/MASKY!!!

I headcanon Tim as an INFP. I did a lot of research and I read that ENTPs and INFPs go great together! (I'm also an ENTP btw)

Tim is 5'7, so he isn't that much taller than you. But he's tall enough to were he can kiss your forehead, and it's like his favorite thing to do

OMGGG FWECKLES HE LOVES THEM SO MUCHH

Hes a mega simp for them, like no joke

I think I've said this before, but Tim himself has some on his arms, inner thighs, neck, and chest

He loves your hair he thinks it's so pretty🥺🥺

He will absolutely buy you so many hair accessories. Barrette's, bobby pins, hair ties- literally anything you want

He'll even ask to braid your hair! Granted he doesn't know how to but,,,,HE WILL LEARN so please let himm

Brown eyes are so pretty like-

He sings you this song all the time

Says it's "our song"

Tim has the same personality

When people first meet him/talk to him. He is very sarcastic and has a very stoic expression. But after they get to know him he cracks dad jokes left and right

Tim is the definition of stubborn. Try to get him to go to bed at a reasonable time. Go on, try it

He thinks it's so cute that you're feisty, he says you remind him of a chihuahua

He DEFINETLY needs someone to talk to about all his problems

bb boy has so many pent up emotions, that as soon as he starts to open up to you, the dam just breaks

Just hold him and tell him you love him. It's all he wants to hear

He totally understands not wanting to talk about your problems, but he doesn't mind listening to yours

He won't force you to open up, but he lets you know that he's always there for you

He's the dad of the friend group-

You guys wear the exact same thing

He will so give you his clothes, just ask

Twinsiessss

He loves seeing you in his shirts, he doesn't know why; he just does

Tim has a dad bod so all his shirts will be kinda baggy on you

It's so cool that you have the same music taste as him. It just makes him love you even more<3

Will give you all his old CD's from when he was a teenager

I can just imagine him doin the little thumb taps on the steering wheel

This man can't swim to save his life, He just never learned how

He totally asks for you to teach him; and to tell him the stories-

This one's really long wow,,, I hope you like it, it was really fun to write!!

#tim wright x reader #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #tim wright #masky x reader #this took me way too long to make #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #sorry i didnt finish this sooner

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ma-sulevin · 4 years

Text

Heat

Summer has brought unusually hot weather to Jackson. Alice looks to Joel for a distraction.

Rating: E Length: 4669 (nice) Pairing: Joel Miller (The Last of Us) / Alice MacNeil, who belongs to @vvitchofhemwick Notes: This is a commission! Want one too? DM me and we can talk about it. See all the tags on AO3.

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Heatwaves are one thing when Alice gets to sit at home, but they’re another thing altogether when she has to run patrols. She can’t stick to the shade when she’s on a horse as it walks up the mountain; she can’t stick to the shade when she’s got a rifle in her hands and her ears focused on trying to find any sounds of infected.

It’s hot and she’s sweating and miserable, and the one bright spot is that she finally got paired up with Joel again. He’s been riding a few yards ahead of her the whole time, quieter than he usually is, body easy on the horse with his shoulders relaxed, like he’s totally comfortable out here in the woods.

She’s still staring at him when he glances back at her, and he smirks like he knew she was staring. She frowns at him, but his smirk only grows as he turns back around and urges his horse to go a little faster. She does the same so he won’t get too far away, but he still doesn’t say anything.

Asshole is always too quiet when she doesn’t want him to be.

The path around Jackson is clear, leaving her without anything to distract her from the uncomfortable heat other than Joel riding ahead of her. She watches his shirt stretch over his shoulders as he shifts his weight, the way he holds the reins in one hand so she can see the muscles of his forearm move, the way he taps his fingers against his thigh…

He’s smirking at her again.

She blinks once and looks away and counts on the summer sun as an excuse for the heat on her face.

There aren’t any signs of infected between Jackson and the radio tower, so there’s nothing to distract her from the sweat dripping down her spine other than Joel. They stand almost close enough to touch as they hitch the horses at the base of the tower, then move up to the top without speaking.

It’s even hotter up here without even any airflow, and the first thing she does is crank open the windows as Joel signs their names in the registry book, alongside the usual “all clear.” Usually, this is her favorite part of doing patrols, the few minutes to relax and drink some water before heading back out.

Today, she wishes she hadn’t ended up back on the roster.

She turns around to lean her back against the wall, and Joel’s not looking at her. His eyes are closed as he drinks from his canteen, head tilted back, the collar of his gray tee soaked in sweat.

It’s really too hot for all this. The infected are probably too warm to leave their dark little holes, and they’re out here wasting their time for nothing.

Another bead of sweat rolls down the side of her face, and she swipes at it with the back of her knuckles.

This is unbearable.

Joel ignores her little grumbly noises, standing by one of the other open windows instead of coming over to her, ignoring her as pointedly as she’s studying him. He rolls his neck until it pops, then stretches out his shoulders one at a time with his hands on his elbows.

The wind picks up outside and finally makes it through the windows, cooling her already damp skin and sparking an idea at the back of her mind. She considers rejecting it, but now that it’s occurred to her…

The breeze soothes her chest as she unbuttons her shirt. She doesn’t say anything to draw attention to it, just slips each button free and moves onto the next one, working steadily until she can shrug the shirt off her shoulders and drop it on the dusty table next to her. It’s already cooler, and she leans her hips against the table and lets her head drop back with a groan.

Joel shifts at the edge of her vision, but she doesn’t turn to look at him, just rolls her shoulders out a little and then reaches up to pull the tie out of her hair to let it tumble free. She shakes it out and then starts to twist it back up again, making sure she doesn’t smile even when the breeze blows across her exposed chest and stomach.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He’s still standing by the other window, mostly facing out over the valley, but she can tell he’s looking at her from the corner of his eyes, back straight and shoulders stiff.

Alice blinks at him like she doesn’t know what he could possibly be talking about. “It’s hot.”

“And your plan to cool down is to strip naked in the radio tower?” He turns his head to face her more directly, and she lifts her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, I was just gonna take off my shirt, but if you think I should keep going…” She has to bend over to unlace her boots, which isn’t the sexiest part of her plan, but she makes it work while Joel makes a disgruntled, grumbling noise under his breath.

He doesn’t tell her to stop though.

She stands up straight as she toes out of her boots, and then she makes direct eye contact with Joel as she unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down. He stares back at her for as long as he can, but it’s only a second or two before his eyes are traveling down the planes of her body to the skin she’s exposing.

He’s fully turned toward her, back to the windows, by the time she’s just in her underwear, but his arms are still crossed over his chest and he hasn’t moved any closer.

It’s all part of the game. She has to make him break enough to close the distance, to reach for her first. She has to make him want her too much to object to her taking off her clothes or to fucking right here in the radio tower when they’re supposed to be running an ordinary patrol. She has to make him desperate enough to give her what she wants before they go to their next stop.

She has to make him give her a reason to be this sweaty.

She hops up on the table and crosses her legs at the knee. She watches long enough to see Joel clench his jaw before she leans back on her hands, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back again. She bounces her foot and waits, letting the silence stretch out and thicken between them until the breeze comes back through the window.

Then, she moans, just a little. It’s more of a sigh, really, but it’s loud in the space between them. It cuts through the silence, and she can hear Joel moving just like she thought he would, finally spurred into action.

His fingers wrap around her ankle, stilling the bouncing with a tight squeeze.

She opens one eye to look at him as his grip relaxes. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping.” His hand creeps a little higher, resting on her calf instead.

She uncrosses her legs and he moves to stand between them, but she puts her foot square in the center of his chest, pushing to keep him away. His fingers tighten again as she stares him down.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” She arches her brows and purses her lips so he won’t see her smirking at him.

He nods, apparently serious. “Don’t want you to overheat.” He tries to move forward again and she pushes at him a little harder. He stills but doesn’t step back, just raises his hands in surrender.

He waits with his hands out to the side as she slides her foot down his chest to his waist, then lower, brushing her bare toes against where she knows he’s still soft in his jeans. He twitches, a full-body shudder, but doesn’t say anything, and then she pushes herself to her feet.

There’s barely enough room for her to stand between him and the table, but she makes it work, holding his gaze as his eyes darken before she slips away to stand in front of the window.

She leans forward and arches her back again, half afraid he’s going to call her out on what she’s doing… but he doesn’t.

She anticipates his touch before it comes, a rough palm sliding up her spine until his fingers can wrap around the nape of her neck. His hips press against her, just enough to make sure she knows he’s there, and the fingers of his other hand pull at her hair tie until her hair falls loose again.

“You’re lucky no one’s close enough to see you.”

She tries to look over her shoulder at him, but his grip on her tightens, and he pulls her upright. His other arm wraps around her waist, pressing flat against her hip to hold her body against his. She catches her lower lip between her teeth and waits to see what he’ll do next even as goosebumps race across her skin.

It feels natural for him to slip his hand from the back of her neck to the front; it feels right for his fingers to circle her throat, and she wants to relax into his hold.

She wants to, but she doesn’t, because the game is still going. She can’t hide how fast her heart is beating, not with his fingers against her pulse, but she can straighten her spine and try to lift her hands to grab for him too.

She can try, at least, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to let her.

They’ve done this before, played this game where she teases and pushes until he gives in and takes. He knows what her next move is, and he’s ready for it, pinning her arms to her sides and tightening his fingers around her throat, just a hair, just enough to warn her to be still.

She flexes against his hold because he expects her to, bares her teeth because he expects her to, pretends she’s not starting to soak through her panties because he expects her to.

The heat of his body behind hers is no match for the breeze coming through the window, and sweat builds again. It beads at her hairline and drips down, tickling as he holds her too tight to brush it away.

“You’d like that though, wouldn’t you?” She doesn’t know what she’d like, because she’s too distracted by feeling him against her, and she tries to shake her head so he’ll know. She’s certainly not going to fucking ask. “You’d like it if the whole town could see you.”

She doesn’t want to shiver at his words, but she can’t help it, and the way he chuckles at her reaction just makes it worse.

He moves his grip to her chin and tips her head back to rest on his shoulder, and she lets him manipulate her stance until he’s able to press a kiss against her cheekbone, then to her earlobe, then his teeth scrape the edge of her jaw.

She presses her thighs together and he presses his chuckle against her skin.

“You don’t have to be so smug.”

He bites her again as she bares her teeth at him. “No? So… if I check right now, you won’t be wet?”

She doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need her to. He releases her arms to slide his hand down her stomach, dragging blunt nails over the sensitive skin below her navel just to make her flinch, but he doesn’t slip into her waistband like she thinks he might. Instead, he just cups her through her panties, putting pressure on her but not relieving anything.

“You weren’t even helping me patrol, were you? You were just waiting for a chance to take your damn clothes off.”

Now that her hands are free, she grabs Joel’s wrists and digs her nails in, just a bit, just enough to threaten. “And? If it bothers you so much, let me go and I’ll get dressed.”

“Didn’t say that. Quit squirmin’.”

He lets her pull his hand away from her throat, but he doesn’t move away from her. He puts that hand on the window frame and stays pressed against her back, breathing slow and deep like he’s not getting hard against her ass, and finally starts to move his fingers.

It’s just a little, just another tease, just enough to send bright sparks of pleasure up her spine, a little reward for the game so far.

She groans and turns toward him, lips parted, and he gives her what she wants without hesitation this time.

His fingers start to move faster as their lips meet. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it until fingernails dig into his skin again. She has to gasp for breath when he releases her, but he just turns his attention to kissing her cheek, the underside of her jaw, the side of her throat.

She tries to turn in his arms, but he stops her again, holding her in place now with both hands on her hips, taking away the teasing pleasure just when she thought she was finally getting what she wants. His next kiss tastes like the salt from her skin and she falls into his trap of licking into his mouth once again.

His hands relax on her hips and his fingers trace down lower until he can tuck them into the waistband of her panties. He slides them down until they drop to the floor, and then he leans back so he can watch himself run his palm over the curve of her ass.

She tenses for a blow that doesn’t come. His hands are gentle as they smooth up her back to unhook her bra, and she tries to turn around to face him as she shrugs off the material.

“Nuh-uh.” He grabs her upper arms and holds her still, facing out over the valley instead of letting her move where she wants. She tries to pull away but he squeezes his fingers, and she squeezes her thighs together too.

He chuckles and pushes her forward, only letting her go when she grabs at the window frame for balance.

“Stay still. You got it?”

She’s got it.

“You gonna make me?” She looks over her shoulder at him and smirks like she’s not about to just drop to her knees to see if that’s what it’ll take to make him break this time and just take her, but he just lifts his eyebrows like he knew that challenge was coming.

“You had your fun being a brat.” He doesn’t touch her as he speaks, just stares at her with dark eyes and palms himself through his jeans. “You’re making us late with the patrol, too, but you don’t care about that so long as you get all my attention. Is that right?”

She doesn’t answer, just watches his fingers flexing around his cock, hard and trapped in his jeans.

“You gonna answer me?”

She grins at him, showing her teeth, but no. She doesn’t answer him. It’s more fun if she doesn’t, even if he’s right and she’s making them late to hit the next station on their patrol.

It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.

He grins back at her for a second, a little lopsided thing that lets her know he’s enjoying the game as much as she is… and then the smile is controlled, tucked away so he can clench his jaw and push her down with his hand between her shoulder blades so that she’s leaning, just a bit, out the window.

It’s cooler out here, at least, but there’s no way she can muffle the cry she makes when his hand finally connects sharply with the curve of her ass. She doesn’t have time to see if the sound echoes before he spanks her again, and then a third time, the sharp pain twisting into pleasure that has her rubbing her thighs together. When she tries to squirm back against him, his other hand slides from between her shoulder blades to tangle in her hair.

He’s not done.

“How far away do you think they can hear you screamin’?” He rubs soothing circles over her stinging cheeks, dipping almost low enough between them to feel how wet she is, like he has no idea what he does to her. She catches her lower lip between her teeth as he continues teasing her in his low rumble. “It’s okay, baby, let them hear how much you like this.” He spanks her again and she groans, quieter than before. “Hey. I said let them hear you.”

This time, he slaps her cunt. The shock of it makes her cry out loud, loud enough to startle a bird out of the closest tree, and Joel chuckles behind her as he presses two fingers inside up to the third knuckle.

“I knew you’d be fuckin’ soaked.” He drags his fingers back out and then plunges them back in, curling them just right like he’s been doing for the last three years. “You’re desperate for it.”

She grits her teeth and arches up onto her toes before she manages to answer. “You gonna give it to me or just be a tease?”

He chuckles and she shivers at the sound. “I’m the tease?”

His fingers move faster inside of her, a steady rolling motion that makes her knuckles turn white where they’re gripping the windowsill. He knows exactly how to pleasure her, exactly where to touch her to get her wetness spreading down onto her thighs and down his wrist, exactly how to make her glad they’re not at home where she has to struggle to be quiet.

Joel seems happy they don’t have to be quiet too, a steady stream of filth dripping from his tongue that makes her thighs start to shake as he works between them. He tells her how pretty she looks, how good she feels, how tight and wet and hot she is around his fingers.

He tells her he knows she’s close, and when she moans out her agreement… he stops. He pulls his fingers away and waits for her to swear and stomp her foot before he guides her to turn around so he can capture her lips with his.

She lets him kiss her for half a second before she bites his lower lip and starts yanking at his belt, furious and desperate for it, just like he said she is.

“Jesus, Joel. C’mon.” She gets his belt open and yanks at the button in his jeans. “Fuck me already. I know you want to. See?”

She wraps her fingers around his cock and nips at his throat when he leans his head back with a groan. She squeezes just a little too hard, pumps just a little too fast, a test of overstimulation to get him back for delaying her orgasm, and he shivers and shudders under her touch until he can’t take it anymore and he captures her wrist in one of his large hands.

“Shit, girl. If I give you what you want, will you behave?” He starts to tug her away from the window before she answers, but she nods at him anyway, moving with him until she can hop up on the table that helped her start this whole thing.

He pushes his jeans down and steps between her thighs as she locks her ankles around him, like she’d ever be able to hold him there if he decided to start teasing her again.

They both watch as he holds himself steady and pushes inside her, moving slow enough that she swears again and yanks at his shirt, pulling him as hard as she can but still not accomplishing anything but making him huff a short laugh and then groan low and deep when he finally fills her.

Joel leans down like he’s going to kiss her, but he just brushes his nose against hers and whispers, “You gonna quit bitchin’ now?”

“What happened to letting everyone hear me?” She’s proud of the way she’s able to keep her voice from shaking, but she’s more proud of the way he narrows his eyes at her response.

He slides his hand up from her hip to the side of her neck, pausing for half a second to cup her jaw so he can give her the lightest, most teasing kiss he can before standing up straight and pushing two of his fingers between her lips.

They taste like her.

Her body gives her away, makes her lose the game, and she clenches around him as she shivers, eyes dropping closed as she begins to suck his fingers clean.

She can’t stay quiet as he finally, finally begins to fuck her, pulling out with the same incredible slowness before slamming back inside. She pulls away from his fingers and cries out, her lips twisting up into a relieved smile as pleasure sparks through her body.

It’s intense after all his teasing, almost too good as he stretches and fills her just right, and she can’t even hold herself upright as he sets a hard, steady pace.

She collapses back onto the table, barely sparing a thought to whether it’s sturdy enough for this, because he lifts her legs up to rest on his shoulders and holds them there as he keeps on fucking her like she’s been hoping for.

“This’s what you wanted, ain’t it?” He sounds almost as winded as she feels, but he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let up, just buries his cock inside her over and over. “Show me how much you like it. C’mon, baby.”

She gives herself over to him completely, surrendering at last, and just calls out his name as she focuses on how it feels to have him so deep inside her cunt. He groans above her and switches to shorter, harder thrusts that have her toes curling and her back arching.

Sweat builds between them, but she doesn’t care, barely has time to notice it before there are fingers on her clit and everything is too much. It’s too much and it’s perfect, and if she comes right now she’s going to fall apart, she won’t be able to handle it…

“Joel, oh my god, fuck. I’m gonna come.” She grabs for anything to steady herself and ends up with one hand on her breast and the other clutching the edge of the table. “You’re gonna, I’m, I’m…”

She screams as the pleasure finally breaks, washing over her and making her forget everything else but the feeling of Joel inside of her and on top of her. He keeps fucking her with his fingers against her clit and she keeps coming like she’s never going to stop.

His pace slows as her body starts to relax, the force of her orgasm leaving her loose-limbed and sated. She looks up at him and he smiles, face red and sweat soaking into his shirt.

“Feel good, baby?” He runs a soothing hand over her trembling thigh and then over her stomach to her breast, pinching just enough to make another shock run through her, the motion of his hips slowed down to almost nothing.

She nods at him. “Yeah. You gonna come inside me now?”

“That what you want?” His hand slides back down to her stomach, pressing below her navel.

She clenches around him on purpose, just to watch him shiver, just to see how it throws off his rhythm, then she nods, and she says the only thing that will get her what she wants right now.

“Please.”

His smile is beautiful. “Okay, baby. I got you.”

He starts to move inside of her again, faster, and he keeps his eyes locked with hers until he starts to get overwhelmed too. He leans over her and lets his eyes drop closed, bracing his hands on the table so he can chase his end with the same dedication he does everything else.

She props her heels up on the table and watches his face, moaning as the slight overstimulation turns back into pleasure, wishing they had more time together to fuck until they’re exhausted and sated, without having to worry about the neighbors or the kids or anything other than making sure they’re both fucked out and happy.

She takes a chance and reaches down to play with her clit, rubbing hard and fast and moaning louder as she does.

Joel’s voice joins hers and he grabs her free hand in the moments before he presses deep inside her, curling over her and coming inside her with a cut-off cry that’s too quiet. His face is pinched in pleasure, lips parted, brows drawn together, and he fucks her through it with shallow thrusts that get her almost back up to the edge of coming again.

He stills finally and gasps, catching his breath before opening his eyes to look down at her. He laughs, still breathing hard, when he sees her fingers working between her thighs, so close to where he’s still inside her.

“Jesus, Alice.” He pulls out even though she whines at him to stay, but he doesn’t move away. He stays close, pressing his fingers inside her instead, filling her back up and making sure his come stays deep. “You ever happy?”

She lets her eyes fall closed, arching her hips to get closer to him. “Yeah. Getting closer.” He curls his fingers just right, and she moans out, “You’re so good at this.”

She can hear the smile in his voice and can picture just what it looks like on his face, but she can’t open her eyes to look at it when he says, “You’re lucky I love you.”

He’s too much. His fingers stretch her just right, reach the exact right spots inside her, fill her up the way she wants to be, and he loves her.

She comes again just like that, around his fingers, full of him, smiling as he talks her through it with low words about how good she feels, how beautiful she looks.

“You okay down there?”

He’s doing his pants back up when she makes herself sit up, now more sweaty than when she started taking her clothes off to tease him, but he pauses to lean in and kiss her when she tilts her chin up at him, like he can’t help but give in to touch her.

“Ah. Fuck.” Her ass stings when she slides off the table. Her thighs are still shaking as she walks over to grab her panties, so she has to lean against the wall to step into them without falling over, trying to ignore how wet she feels now that they’re finished, now that he’s come inside her.

Joel snorts at her, and she glares up at him without any heat behind it. “C’mon. We’re late.”

He closes up the windows as she finishes getting dressed, and they stand together to check their weapons before heading back down to the horses. Silence stretches between them again, but it’s not as heavy as it was earlier. It’s comfortable, warm, and she wishes they could just go straight back to Jackson together.

He stops her before she has a chance to mount her horse, catches her with his arms around her waist so he can pull her to him. She lets him, leaning into his embrace, smiling up at him as he lifts one hand to tuck a curl behind her ear.

After a second passes, he kisses her, slow and sweet. It lingers, gentle, until she’s smiling against his lips.

When he’s done, he kisses her forehead, and then releases her.

It’s time to get back to work.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel miller x oc #my writing

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leavetwn · 4 years

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* AMANDA CAMPANA, NOBINARY + SHE/HER/THEY/THEM | you know RAMONA GALLO, right? they’re TWENTY-THREE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, TWENTY-THREE YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to CRYING ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR BY MUNA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole COLD PIZZA AS A HANGOVER CURE, TALKING SHIT ABOUT CUSTOMERS IN THE BREAKROOM, LONGING FOR WHAT COULD'VE BEEN, thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 17TH, so they’re a LEO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

HEY , BESTIES ! happy new year (the way it’s 11:55pm here so barely) !! my name’s claire and i’m 22. i’m livin in the est timezone, and my pronouns are she/her. i’m bringing y’all a mess of a muse 😈 because well ,,, it’s what i’m best at. if you’re feelin ramona & wanna plot, just go ahead and like this & i’ll hit you up. i usually plot on discord, but if you prefer the tumblr ims, that’s no problem at all. anyway, lemme stop waistin time and get to introducing you to ramona. * tw: mentions of cheating & alcohol.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: ramona gallo. nickname(s): anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-three. date of birth: august 17th. zodiac sign: leo. gender/pronouns: non-binary, she/her/they/them. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: irving, north carolina. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: employee at zoinkies currently, a lifeguard during the summer. eye color: brown. hair color/style: had long hair up until her breakup then had one of those breakdowns and cut her own hair into a bob and then her own bangs. i bet it was a mess lol so she probably called her friends or went to a salon the very next day to get it fixed. also highlighted the ends red but her natural color is brown. height : 5′5″. clothing style: simple and comfortable. t-shirts, croptops, turtlenecks, all usually paired with either jean shorts or jeans in general. she prefers to feel cozy rather than cute. tattoos: yes. a small one on her wrist. wants more eventually. piercings: both ears peirced & a navel piercing that she did herself against better judgement lol.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

you were born on a scorching hot day in irving , your father says so, anyway. you’re convinced he’s being dramatic. your birth went smoothly; after two previous children, your parents had become disillusioned by childbirth. just another one to add to the bunch, and one that was meant to save a dying marriage. still, they loved you nonetheless. your father, to this day. your mother, until you were ten, and then she up and left without a warning.

your father keeps food on the table by fixing cars. you spend your days in the hot sun watching him replace parts and continuously try to crank vehicles until they run. he fist pumps every time one does. ‘ how lame, ’ you think, but it’s inspiring how hard he works to take care of three kids. and he does a good job.

therefore , you spend much of your early life trying to make him proud. you’re smart as a whip, and all your teachers have good things to say about you when it comes to academics. you’re a bit of a troublemaker, though. your father doesn’t mind that too much; he was the same at your age. and he’s proud — proud to see you work so hard.

you spend your teenage years doing much of the same. though , you begin to come home a bit later than usual, and your excuse is that you’ve been at ashley’s or samantha’s, but really all three of you were out partying. you don’t think your father would care (your grades are fine & he wants you to live like a normal teenager) , but you still lie about it. why ? well, who knows, maybe you like the adrenaline rush it gives you. like most things, you do them for the thrill.

you join the swim team. you’re kind of bad , but that’s okay. just like always , you work hard, and you realize that you’re kind of a natural. your father cheers louder than anyone else in the stands. it pushes you to do better. with your good grades and athletics , your guidance counselor tells you you’re a shoo in for a scholarship from whatever university you want. you apply to several. if it’s one thing you hate, its this town. you can’t wait to make it out, and you figure, this might be your only way.

you’re eighteen, and you’re in love. it’s crazy how love can make you see things differently. suddenly , this town doesn’t seem half bad. all your friends find it cute , and you tell them everything. the things he tells you or the way he makes you feel. it’s a crazy feeling; you never want it to end.

you throw your cap in the air. finally , high school is over. college is looming. you’ve been accepted to several & received scholarships from at least a few. you lie in bed thinking about it. now, you suddenly don’t want to leave so bad. don’t want to leave him behind. how could someone leave another they love so easily? it makes you hate your mother more.

for the first time, you disappoint your father. you don’t go to college. you don’t give a damn. you want to stay where love is. you’re addicted to the feeling. this lasts for three years. now, you’re twenty-one; you’ve gotten a job at zoinkies, and that keeps you away for most of the day. you randomly decide to visit your boyfriend during a lunch break one day. you find him in bed with someone else. suddenly , you realize love isn’t as addicting as you once thought. what once made the world beautiful now made it hideous. what once made you feel so high had somehow made you feel so low. it was horrible, and you’d realized your mistakes.

you threw away your future for love. something as rotten and twisted as love. something you swore you’d never let yourself feel again. something that you put away in a locked box with no key. irving was the same place you’d always known it to be. boring, drab, familiar. at least you had your family. that was barely enough to keep you sane, though, and it was hard to feel normal.

you turned to the thing that help. alcohol, partying, any escape at all. you lacked coping skills — that much was clear, but you didn’t care. you blamed it on something else entirely. just as your teachers had said, you’re a bit of a troublemaker. you do anything to make yourself feel alive, to make yourself feel free of the hurt.

it’s two years later now. you’re still not over it in some ways, as regret turns to anger and resentment. you’re bitter. who wouldn’t be? but you feel like you’ve had time to mourn. maybe it’s because you never acknowledged it in the way you should’ve ( it’s still locked away in that box. ) you still have your bad habits. you still work at your stupid job that you hate. you’re lost, but you’ll figure it out. you always do. so, you continue to float , seemingly stuck in the town that you never let go of, and you wonder what comes next. only time will tell.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

still swims but doesn’t have as much time for it. probably not as good, but since she spends the summer lifeguarding, she uses that time to practice & try to get back to where she was. also kinda jaded asf so even if she says she wants to get back into it, she probably won’t lmaoo.

is a horrible driver. how did she get a license ?? not even she knows. def the type to like have a leg up on the dash board, hand out the window, and only one hand on the wheel while speedin idk how she makes it out alive

can take a car apart and put it back together again thanks to her dad. also changes her own tires so let her change your tires. im just sayin

stays up way too late & would sleep until 2 pm everyday if she didn’t have to work. should probably work on being an adult and going to bed at a normal time but just half the time doesn’t give a fuck so she’s probably sleep deprived a lot. therefore also has a

character parallels: alice ayres/jane jones (closer, 2004) , clementine (eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, 2004) , fiona gallagher (shameless, 2011-present) , more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

ok but plots really do be making my world go ‘round. 😳 i love em, so literally hmu with anything you’re feeling, and i’ll be down. just wanna plot & write with everyone 💕 but here’s a couple of wanted connections for y’all. i’ll prolly have a most wanted tag sooner or later & i’ma be make a plot page soon.

* the unholy trinity — these two are the friends she cherishes most. i’m assuming they’ve been friends since at least early high school , maybe earlier. they went through a lot together. these two were with her through all her relationship troubles. true ride or dies. she’s do absolutely anything for them, and she trusts that they feel the same way. they’re rowdy & wild, do whatever they want, and have a damn good time doin it. also have a gc where they just talk shit and send tiktoks idk just gimme this plsss 🥺

* friends with benefits / one night stands — this would probably be the extent of ramona. clearly not over what happened to her the last time 😭, so she’d have plenty of these tbh. she probably wouldn’t think too much about it, but it could be awkward for you muse maybe, etc.

* unrequited love / crush — here’s a toast to the ones who crush on ramona. it would be an absolute tragedy lmaoo. she’s not really mean about it, but she is 100% certain she’s not looking for any type of relationship. could be really dramatic and messy and those are tha best kind. literally this

* former friends / enemies — she’s lived here her whole life, so she’s at least got one. these two just don’t get along/no longer get along for whatever reason that can be plotted out.

* coworkers — she works zoinkies throughout the year and picks up shifts as a lifeguard during the summer so your muses could know her from that. could delve into a close friend territory too lmao. they probably just sit in break rooms and talk about rude customers or bossy managers lmaooo.

* literally anything your heart desires — a lot could work. we could even just start from nowhere & have them meet for the first time if they’re newer/just to town.

#irvingintro #tw alcohol #tw cheating #it is so sick & twisted that i have another one to write i can't believe lol #but it must be done #hi luv me plot with me

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twilight-reprise-au · 4 years

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So we all agree new moon is stupid, yeah? Yeah.

(Yes, we know this isn't Reprise AU but we thought of another one, so let's just pretend this is a normal twilight blog for the moment.)

Anyway, back to the point : New Moon is stupid. Specifically in that damn phonecall that made Edward believe Bella was dead and turn up hyper suicidal mode bc he's a fucking idiot.

So let's say Jacob is a bit less of an ass and a bit more specific, which means Edward sits in his trashy apartment feeling just as trashy, as usual, and doesn't immediately go trying to bedazzle the entire city of Volterra into killing him.

Meanwhile, with the vampires who have common sense, a.k.a. the rest of the Cullens, Alice still sees Bella jump, panics and comes back to Forks. She realises Bella ain't doin' so hot, and convinces the rest of the family (minus Edward because he's still in Trashland) to move back to Forks and to give Bella some sense of normalcy back. Because Alice likes her friends and doesn't take no for an answer. Cue barely believable excuses why they suddenly moved and came back again. Anyway.

Bella manages to brute force her way through depression with support from friends and family and finally gets over Edward (because that shit ain't healthy). Also let's assume that Jessica is a well written character and a supportive friend.

Since Bella is friends with bith the Wolves and the Cullens, and there's no dick measuring contest between Jacob and Edward, Bella manages to bring the two groups to a point where they can interact civilly and are even starting to show hints of friendship.

Everything is going fine and dandy, so of course we need a party crasher.

Bella is running errands in the city, when she spots a familiar head of perfecty disheveled "bronze curls". She halts. "E-Edward?". The guy turns around, and Bella's gaze travels over familiar features. A chiseled jaw, the lopsided smile she once used to adore, sharp cheekbones and- eyes as red as the blood he must have spilled. (We tried to channel our inner Smeyer for maximum cringe, did it work?)

So turns out you can't stop the hyper suicidal trash train, only delay it. While Alice had her mind full of other things, like laughing at Jacob and Emmett's newfound unwilling bromance, Edward decided to get himself killed by the Volturi after a long period of self-reflection and self-loathing. Only that the Volturi didn't want to kill him. In fact, they didn't want to kill him so much, that they politely volunteered him to joim their merry little band of assorted goths. With a good portion of torture and a pinch of some suggestion based special vampire superpower, they brainwash him into behaving like the monster he always thought himself to be.

When they're sure of Edward's loyalty, they send him back to Forks to recruit Alice, Carlisle and Bella, whom he saw in Edward's memory.

So now self-confident Edward is going after Bella, trying to win her back like "Didn't you want me to turn you?" and Bella is like "Bitch you thought".

And since Edward counts as a threat now the wolves are trying to convince the Cullens to let them kill him, because they're "friends" now I guess? And the Cullens + Bella try to figure out what happened to turn Edward back into his normal depressed "I play piano and read poetry aloud at 3am"-self.

And that's as far as we got! *jazz hands*

#twilight #twilight au #suicide tw #edward cullen #bella swan #alice cullen #jacob black #volturi #mod fae #mod luna #not reprise #just tossing this into the void #accept this offering

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moondaejung · 4 years

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SEND ME A 🎼 AND I’LL MAKE A PLAYLIST FOR OUR MUSES RELATIONSHIP (2/5)

@vitatm

LISTEN HERE

1. Medusa - Kailee Morgue

She looked right through me and I turned to stone. Oh Medusa, Medusa: I've been here alone.

2. Angel Eyes (feat. Chris Motionless) - New Years Day

There's something about you: I can not explain. I just want to know you, I just want to know your name.

3. Dancer in the Dark - Chase Atlantic

She's been dancing with the devil all night. It's like Hell is where she wanna be.

4. Poison - Alice Cooper

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison. You're poison, running through my veins.

5. The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco

There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for. Give me a sign, I want to believe.

6. Young God - Halsey

But do you feel like a young god? You know the two of us are just young gods. And we'll be flying through the streets with the people underneath: and they're running.

7. Tiffany Blews - Fall Out Boy

Oh, baby you're a classic, like a little black dress. You're a faded moon: stuck on a little hot mess.

8. You Really Got Me - The Kinks

Girl, you really got me goin'. You got me so, I don't know what I'm doin' now. Yeah, you really got me now.

#oop #this is so much fun wow #( meme tag tba )

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goldeneyedgirl · 5 years

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2019 Fic Meme

My end of year fic meme, compiled from some old Livejournal fic memes that I do when I write stuff. I do this for fun, because I like looking back at what I have and haven’t written, and what keeps popping up again.

It’s meant to be silly fun, and if anyone else wants to do it, PLEASE DO. I don’t want to tag anyone and put pressure on you in case you don’t want to/don’t think you have enough fic/hate memes.

Twilight

12 Days of Fic-Mas (Twilight, WIP) Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, bonus. Twelve days of fic extracts, previews, and drabbles focusing on Alice Cullen. Encompasses Folie A Deux, The Only Girl in the World, JessaminexAlice, Omens, Asylum, The Long Way Around, The Dark and the Unknown, Hybrid, Runaway, All These Broken Things, & The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon

Shadow to Light (WIP) (Alice/Jasper, AU Angst, PG) In 1918, Jasper lures the newborn known as Mary-Alice back to Monterrey. He is lost to her before it even begins.

Total number of completed stories: Lol.

Total word count: 33,304 words were posted.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? Look, I just... 2019 was a wash in so many ways. I played a lot of Fortnite really badly. I would have loved to be able to say Shadow to Light was finished, or that I was posting Hybrid regularly or something, but I can’t. I wish, wish, wish I had posted more but alas.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Outside of Twilight, I dabbled with some reader/Ben in the Umbrella Academy, and I was messing around with some Janet/Wanda in my personal MCU canon. As for Twilight, I think my stuff got a lot darker? Like, we’re down the rabbit hole here, and somehow Alice ended up being the most feared vampire in the Americas? Yeah.

And there’s the Avengers/Twilight fic that is simultaneously three fics and one fic because I cannot make Executive Decisions and I can’t decide if I like 1. Alice knowing Bucky from Before Jasper; 2. Alice knowing Hawkeye from when he was a kid in the circus and being how Natasha and Clint got out of Budapest, or 3. the Volturi hooking up with Hydra and ... yeah, I think this one is legit the most second-most one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever written. (I’ve been filing today, and boy howdy have I written some actual shit.)

What’s your own favourite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? That’s like making me pick a favourite child. I’m always so, so proud of Shadow to Light, and I love The Dark and the Unknown ‘verse, and Hybrid is just hanging out there, chilling and ugh. My babies <3

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? TwilightFicMas was a huge risk! I wasn’t sure anyone cared unless I was posting more Shadow to Light, and people were SO nice and enthusiastic. So I guess the lesson is shut up and share more fic? Get out of your own head and spend time in the community because fandom isn’t meant to be lonely?

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? I’m starting a graphic design business AND my masters in design in 2020, so I figure fic is going to be my downtime next year. Ideally, I would love to get STL finished, Memento Vivere’s sequel going, and have a few of my shorter pieces posted. I would really love to get some of my original stuff ready for publication, but I’d be happy studying, running my business, and doing the fic thing for 2020.

My best story of this year: That’s up to the readers, I guess. Everyone seemed obscenely enthusiastic about The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon, though, and I was not expecting that at all - I was actually upset that I left the ‘dud’ fic for the last day of FicMas.

My most popular story: Shadow to Light. Everyone is so nice and enthusiastic and polite about that one. I’m not used to it! Fandom for me is usually me sitting in a corner, doin’ my obscure thing, and maybe one or two people will read what I’m working on.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I think everyone was super enthusiastic and nice about everything I posted this year. Maybe Folie A Deux? But like, that reflects more on me and the excerpts that I chose to post rather than the fic or the audience itself.

Most fun story to write: The Unexpected Second Life of Mary Alice Brandon because that Alice is so happy; I have this playlist for it that is super upbeat and funky.

Hybrid is fun because that Alice likes to torment Jasper. He understands Edward on a molecular level once Alice arrives.

Most Sexy Story: The Dark and the Unknown is the front-runner for that, because most of the sexy goings-on in Shadow to Light is very much focused on the psychological and emotional aspects rather than the physical.

Story with the single sexiest moment: The Dark and the Unknown. I am still deeply uncomfortable writing sex scenes, so this may be the only one I ever do. The implication of a blow job in Shadow to Light nearly kill me tbh.

The forest behind the school is silent; just her breathing, and the slight wind. No birds or wildlife, none of the hum of the traffic or of the school.

They don’t undress more than necessary, her skirt slid to her hips, and he takes her roughly against a tree, flakes of bark falling into the dirt. She is hot and slick, and silent as he fucks her, his fingers digging into her hips, a growl rising in his chest. She is every bit his fantasy; the smell of damp flowers, the sweetness of her flesh, her willing supplication. His fingers tear through the lace of her tights as he grips her thighs, and the heels of her shoes must be bending, she’s digging them into the backs of his legs so hard.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: The Long Way Around makes Jasper and Alice’s relationship pretty fucked up, and tbh I look back at it and really struggle with how dark it is and how dark Jasper’s character becomes. There’s a reason that Shadow to Light is the ‘official’ version - it’s a better balance, and I actually think Maria is a lot more interesting in Shadow to Light as a villain with complex relationships with both Jasper and Alice to the point where none of them really want to have to kill each other, but there is a lot of hate on both sides.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: That’s a hard question. Shadow to Light definitely did that because I had to consider what happened when you took Alice out of the picture, and how that changed what happened, and considered the inter-family relationships. So much of canon relies on Alice’s visions that things can’t just happen the same way.

Hardest story to write: Shadow to Light isn’t easy because I have such a specific idea of how it plays out, how it ‘looks’ in my head, and because Alice is so fundamentally different to canon. More innocent when it comes to normal interactions, and so controlled because it meant life or death - but she’s still got to be Alice in a way that people can recognize. It also has to sound right? If I can’t get the right turn of phrase for one scene, it has to be put aside until I can work it out.

All These Broken Things is hard because I started it back in, like, 2014ish and my writing and understanding of the characters and canon has changed so much - plus there are a few sections that came to me quite early in the writing, and now sound really out of place, but are such a strong linchpin for the story that I have to rework them in. It’s a good kind of hard, though, because I’ve improved so much, my ideas and goals are more refined.

Most disappointing: Omens is a little bitch, honestly. I started it for a fic contest and kept going to explore Alice’s human life, and it doesn’t quite feel like my writing? It needs reworking, and be a little less obvious because I think the ‘four horsemen of the apocalypse’ is a good theme for a Human!Alice fic.

Easiest story to write: Depends on my mood; Hybrid is great when I’m in kind of a ‘girls kicking ass’ mood and boot up my action girls playlist.

Biggest surprise: Hybrid started as a love story that was basically ‘yeah, let’s make this shit super dramatic and overwrought’, and turned into this actual story with a huge focus on family and relationships. I can’t remember why I decided Alice’s father had a husband except that I was thinking about small town ‘otherness’, and LGBT+ people can and are still considered ‘other’ in these spaces.

Then you add in Alice and Cynthia who are basically in the same boat but have been separated for their entire lives. Alice has knowledge in her corner, whilst having to fight through foster care, abuse, and hospital; whilst Cynthia has lived a very normal but privileged life as the daughter of a mixed-race same-sex couple in a very small town. I went full-hog with this, and added in an extended family, because I really hated how canon went balls-to-the-wall to isolate Bella from everyone, including Charlie.

Like, this thing is a monster, and whilst I plan to sit down and rewrite the outline (which dates back to 2016, and I hate the ending of), I stopped outlining at 65 freaking chapters.

Most unintentionally telling story: I think this question that still confuses me finally gets a decent answer in The Dark and the Unknown - Jasper is seeing most of it from his perspective, and there isn’t a ton of dialogue. I’ve tried to avoid an info-dump, but it’s meant to be quite supernatural in tone, and focusing on vampire senses and gifts enhances that.

Story I’d like to revise: All These Broken Things wins that one. Due to the age of the piece, there are some pacing and tone issues in later chapters that are the reason I haven’t formally posted it.

Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear: Oh man, I really want to finish A Thousand Years of Solitude, which is a Tanya fic. I’m really happy with what I’ve got so far, but it sounds smarter and more layered than it really is, so I’m kind of stuck.

Mad World because Romani!Alice is super sassy and taking 0% of Swan or Cullen bullshit - I think 90% of my fic is just me going, “yeah, that’s not how normal people react.” And I’m a sucker for gothic horror.

What else? Aww, Against A Wall which is AU Human Jasper coming from the shittiest home, and Alice finding him. It’s meant to be short, and another one I have a really clear idea of how it needs to work.

And the one where Alice’s gift is a sentient power that pushes her to follow it; that Bad Things happen if she doesn’t; that Renesmee was always Endgame for Something, and Alice was a key piece to get that result. Or the one where Aro takes Alice as a ‘guest’ for a period because of Edward and Bella, and Alice’s gift is basically broken.

Good times. I have like 5 years of fic on this computer, we could be here for awhile.

#my fic #twilight fic #meme #my writing

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artnerd1123 · 5 years

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Doin some thinkin, and while bendy is the most corrupted toon, Susie certainly rivals him. And imma tell y’all why.

This is all au stuff btw, so hfjdj

Susie Campbell, aka the original VA of Alice Angel, used to be one of the stars of the studio! She was bound to be popular since her character was one of the only ones to actually speak on screen. She was like the mom of the studio, and always took extra roles where they were needed. Helpful, happy, and not at all bothered by the limelight! She loved working at the studio, and with everyone else!

Unfortunately, she ended up getting knocked down a peg by the music director. Aka: Sammy Lawrence. While her voice acting was spot on, he didn’t think her singing was quite up to par with the angel. So he started looking for someone else to do the singing for her. Without telling her.

The person he ended up settling on? Allison Pendle.

Now, when Susie noticed Sammy hanging around Allison a lot, she wasn’t too concerned. But when she noticed Allison practicing Alice’s songs... and how shifty Sammy was being about her singing roles... well. She jumped to conclusions.

There was a bit of heartbreak in the studio for a couple weeks, in which Susie n Sammy had a fight. They’d been friends before, but this drove a wedge between them for... a good hot minute. Allison got caught in the crossfire initially until Susie learned what was really going on.

Long story short, the two ladies made up, and became best friends! Bonding over their shared Alice role gave way to plenty of other interests they shared. Eventually Susie n Sammy patched things up as well. And things went... kinda back to normal.

... putting this into the context of the pocket dimension script deal, Susie currently plays an antagonist role, largely dependent on her furious insistence that she is Alice Angel, and is the only Alice, and everyone else is a traitor if they think otherwise. And she leverages her “caring” nature to trick people into doing what she wants. Or murdering them. Sounds pretty off from what Susie really is, huh?

One can only imagine how corrupted that makes her.

#u think ben’s monstrous; and ur right #but suse??? hooo boy #is she a... delightful. looking gal.#joe essentially trapped her in that moment of rage and spun her whole character in the script into. that.#so she’s abt as far away from her stable core and going against the script as one could be hfjfhd #makes a good antagonist tho!#terrifying #dtrh!au #down the rabbit hole au #dtrh!susie #dtrh!sammy #dtrh!allison #arty writes #ish #this is really long but hfhfhfh this is tonight’s daydream #enjoy bonus lore too ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

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isitgintimeyet · 6 years

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The Ties That Bind

AO3

Thanks for the support with this story. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and the support.

Chapter 22: A Heartfelt Discussion

Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want. Louisa May Alcott, Good Wives

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was not his idea of a welcoming environment. He didn't think that it was deliberate on Geneva's part to choose to meet in a place he disliked, merely that she would not have taken any preferences of his into consideration.

It was, no doubt, an achingly hip coffee shop. He could cope with the exposed brick, concrete and steel heating ducts running overhead. It was the fact that it had all the atmosphere of an aircraft hanger and seemed to be furnished with rejects from a primary school, judging by the lilliputian dimensions of the table and particularly the chair he was currently folded into. And he felt very out of place, dressed for work in his suit and crisp white shirt.

Clearly, Geneva was totally at home here, addressing the staff by name as she walked through the room to his table. At nineteen weeks, there was now a hint of a belly, just visible as she turned to beckon a waiter over.

The waiter sauntered over, ready to take the order. Geneva ordered a fennel tea and looked across at Jamie.

“A large latte please.”

The waiter smiled patronisingly at Jamie's simple order.

His hackles raised, Jamie returned the smile and continued. “Wait. That's no foam, one percent milk, three shots columbian, extra hot, two pumps sugar-free cinnamon. If ye havena got the one percent, i'll have half skimmed, half full-fat… oh and two scones please.”

He sat back, satisfied.

Geneva looked at him questioningly. “Very specific taste in coffee you've developed there.”

“Actually all I wanted was a latte but yon wee man was so patronising I jes’ had to complicate it fer him. So, how are ye doin’? Any movement yet?”

“I've started getting a sort of bubbly feeling. Like I've drunk too much fizzy stuff. It's the baby moving round. Now it's bigger I can feel it. That started last week.”

“Why did ye no’ ring or text tae tell me?”

“I didn't think that would be a good idea. It might have upset Claire.” Geneva said pointedly.

“Claire is…”

The waiter arrived with their order and placed it on the table between them. Geneva took her cup of tea.

“Jamie, I didn't want a scone.”

“Aye, I ken. They're fer me. Have ye seen the size of them? There's no’ but a mouthful in each.”

“You haven't changed.” Geneva smiled at Jamie. “I remember your appetite so well. How you used to have a snack before we went to bed. Said it gave you energy.”

Jamie’s cheeks reddened slightly. He needed to get Geneva away from this line of conversation. To use Jenny's analogy, he felt Geneva was about to try and reel him in again with a series of sweet reminiscences. Actually, he thought, now would be an ideal time to mention the discussions he'd had at Angus's wedding, head her off at the pass so to speak.

Jamie finished his scones and wiped his hands on his napkin, trying to figure out how to start this conversation with Geneva. He knew she would deny everything - after all she hadn’t actually said anything about them getting back together. She had just somehow managed to spin it so friends believed Jamie and Geneva would soon be a couple again. And this is why, Jamie told himself, she works in PR.

“I went tae Angus and Kirsty’s wedding…” he began.

“Oh yes, I’ve seen some photos on Instagram. Lovely day they had. She went to London for that dress, you know. And Alice Temperley wedding dresses don’t come cheap. Not sure about the veil though, bit too 2009 for my taste…”

“Geneva,” Jamie felt the conversation slipping away from him. Trying to bring it back on track, he continued. “Aye, it was a bonnie day, right enough. Lots of people there and I had a few… er… interesting conversations. Wi’ Rupert and Angus and Hal…”

Geneva sat back in her chair, listening. Jamie noticed her hand move to her small baby bump and start to rub it gently, discreetly drawing attention to their brief reunion and its outcome.

“They all were verra surprised that I was at the wedding wi’ Claire. They all knew about the bairn and somehow thought we would be getting back together. What did ye say tae them?”

Geneva’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me? What did I say? All I said was that we were having a baby together and were very pleased. I can’t help it if people jump to conclusions about our relationship status. Very natural conclusions, you might say. After all, I’ve been in your life a lot longer than some.”

Putting on a concerned face, she placed her hand over Jamie’s. “But it must be a strain on Claire. All these assumptions and strange looks. Is it really fair to her, all this? This isn’t what she signed up for. Are you being cruel to her, carrying on with the relationship? Have you really thought about what’s right for Claire?”

Jamie swiftly pulled his hand away from Geneva. He hoped the look on his face would tell her that she had gone too far.

“Geneva, I’ll thank ye to keep yer opinions about Claire and me tae yerself. We have talked about all this at some length and the fact that she is willin’ tae stick wi’ me shows what an incredible woman she is and how lucky I am tae have her in my life. I have made it clear tae our friends that I am with Claire and that willna change. Ye need tae understand that and stop with the misleading. I dinna want tae be mean, Geneva. Ye may have my bairn, but Claire, she has my heart.”

Jamie caught a glimpse of sadness in Geneva’s eyes, before her calm mask fell back into place.

“I’m sorry, Geneva, I dinna want tae hurt ye.”

“Hurt me? Why would you think that?” Geneva asked defensively as she stood up. “Look, I have to go, I’ve an appointment at quarter past. See you at the scan.”

She raised her fingertips to her lips and kissed them before lightly touching Jamie’s forehead.

“Take care,” he called after her. “Text me with any news.”

******

Jamie lay in bed, his hands behind his head, as Claire finished her bedtime rituals. In many ways this was his favourite time of day, just the two of them here with no external distractions and the anticipation building as he waited for Claire to slide into bed next to him - once she took that damn onesie off, of course.

Having been unseasonably warm for so long, autumn had arrived quickly with cool mornings, dark chilly evenings and Claire’s onesie - wrapping her from toes to the top of her head in pink fleece. To Jamie, who had his own internal heating system all year round, it was a unnecessary item of clothing that hid Claire’s luscious curves and long legs from his gaze and made any access to said curves nigh on impossible. To Claire, it was, together with her hot water bottle, a winter necessity. But, Jamie consoled himself with the thought that she never came to bed wearing it and in many ways, the excitement as she slowly unzipped it in front of him made it worthwhile.

Claire finally put her moisturiser away in the drawer Jamie had set aside for her and moved over to the bed. Jamie rolled onto his side and waited expectantly for the unveiling. Which did not disappoint, Claire seemingly unaware of the effect she was having on Jamie as she stepped out of the onesie, followed by the little vest top and pants she was wearing underneath. She slipped into bed and reached to turn out the light as Jamie halted her and pulled her tightly to him.

With her head on his chest, she could feel the vibrations as he spoke to her. “Sassenach, can I tell ye about my meeting wi’ Geneva today?”

Claire nodded, his chest hairs rubbing against her cheek. She wasn’t thrilled to be talking about that, but knew it must be important to Jamie.

“She felt the baby move, like bubbles, aye? Last week it started.”

Her eyes pricked with tears. She tried to blink them away, unsuccessfully. It was the hint of excitement in his voice that cut her to the core. Excitement in this experience he was sharing with another woman. She remained silent, afraid her voice would betray her.

Jamie continued. “I reminded her tae text me wi’ new developments. Are ye ok with that?”

Claire nodded silently again. Jamie shifted onto his side, forcing Claire to change position and he brought his face close to hers.

“Claire, look at me. I ken this is hard fer ye. I love ye and only ye and I dinna want tae cause ye more hurt than I already have. But these things that are goin’ on in my life, I want tae share with ye. If it hurts too much, if ye dinna want me tae tell ye about these things, let me know. I dinna want tae keep things from ye, but it’s yer choice. Ye had a choice tae make when I first told ye about the bairn and ye chose to stay with me, for which I am eternally thankful. Now, ye can choose how much ye want tae know, fer me tae share.”

Claire shifted her gaze to Jamie’s face, a look of concern etched there. She suddenly felt guilty for worrying him, surely it was better that he shared these moments with her, rather than keeping them between himself and Geneva, perhaps even forcing them closer together.

“No, you can tell me. I won’t always want to hear what you tell me, but I want you to want to tell me everything. Do you know what I mean? And I’ll always listen. You know that. I’m... glad you want to share it with me. And, truthfully, it may sometimes make me sad but nowhere near as sad as what I’d imagine if you didn’t tell me. Am I making sense? I feel like I’m rambling.”

“Aye… I mean no...aye, ye’re makin’ sense and no, ye’re no’ ramblin’. So, are we agreed… honesty and truth it is between us?”

“Yes.” Claire forced a smile. “Jamie, it’s small steps. Neither of us really knows what we’re doing… just making it up as we go along...together.”

Jamie gave a sigh of relief. “I spoke tae Geneva about what she’d told people… about her and me. Of course she denied sayin’ anything. She reckoned people came tae their own conclusions, but I put her right about us.”

“Again.” Claire turned her head away from Jamie. He lightly stroked her cheek and brought her face back to his, sharing the same pillow, their breath intermingling.

“Aye, again. I’m bein’ honest wi’ ye here. I think Jenny is right. It’s no’ that I’m biggin’ meself up, but I dinna think Geneva is goin’ tae stop trying tae…”

“Get you all to herself? Get me out of the picture?”

Jamie sighed. “I dinna think this is about ye at all. In her eyes that’s jes’ collateral damage. I’m no’ defending Geneva, but…”

Claire tried to pull away.

“...I’m no’ defending her, but ye have tae understand how she’s been brought up. She’s always been the favourite in the family, the pretty wee pet. Always indulged, always got what she wanted.”

Claire finally relaxed in Jamie’s arms as he continued to talk. “Ye ken Isobel. She’s a couple o’ years older. She told me that, as a child, she can remember Geneva havin’ tantrums if she couldna get her ain way. And she meant real tantrums... screamin’, bitin’, pukin’ tantrums. So her parents always gave in. And that’s how she’s grown up. She’s never learnt ‘no’. Even now her mother spoils her. No’ Isobel, jes’ Geneva.”

And now Jamie was keen to draw the conversation to a close, finding the naked woman in his arms far more enticing.

Claire, however, wasn’t finished. Ignoring the big hand that had descended down her back and was voluptuously kneading her left buttock, she continued.

“But what about Isobel?”

“Ye’d think that all this would make Isobel bitter, would ye no’? But far from it, she’s a lovely wee sweetheart- a teacher in a tough school. And surprisingly, she still loves her Mam and sister. No’ that they always deserve it. But I promise ye, Sassenach, I will always say no to Geneva.”

As Jamie’s hand continued it’s exploration, Claire finally decided to join in with the proceedings. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rolled onto her back, bringing Jamie to lie on top of her.

“But you’ll never say no to me, will you, James Fraser?” She muttered in his ear.

“Oh God, Sassenach, no… I mean, aye.” Jamie spluttered before Claire brought her lips to his and the time for talking was over.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #the ties that bind #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #Chapter 22

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maggotmouth · 5 years

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hi i’m nora ( 23. gmt. she/her ) and it turns out i really miss playing bridget ! i wasn’t feeling frida bt i wanted to explore som of her backstory more so ive kind of fused bits of her into bridget..... sue me.... for those of u who didn’t know her before i dropped her, bridget grew up in a trailer park in texas, she’s an angsty socialist leftie who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism. film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x

application template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

aesthetics.

thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes. piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously

tw drugs, teen pregnancy

BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, was chucked out of home pretty young after a teenage pregnancy, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst…. ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got…. sucked in by the money

her mom n dad met in high school at a parents evening. alice was fourteen, toby was thirty-one. bridget’s mom alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not. toby was the father to a girl down the road who alice knew nothing of besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. alice was out of the house as soon as her parents knew a child was growing in her womb.

bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things have a way of circling back to us --- that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, polka-dot nylon of a swimsuit pulled down to her ankles.

she grew up in a trailer park just outside of orlando resort, but she was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage.

if you’ve seen the florida project its a bit like tht.... just kids left to do their own shit.... mother’s a bit all over the place... made money by stealing wristbands off orlando theme park visitors, and bridget was p much raised by the community, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child

gilly (referred to as junior) was born four years after bridget, the son of a carpenter and sculpture artist named gilbert “gilly” senior, her moms latest squeeze. whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of furniture or hanging out with the kids who were visiting disneyland but couldn’t afford the hotels on the resort

like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was eleven. they were in the system for a while, before gilly was finally granted custody as legal guardian. the three of them moved to marfa, texas so that gilly could run classes in sculpture and woodworking at the art institute. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors. bridget likes to believe that she’s an actress, her name in newspapers and her face in a star-spangled dressing mirror.

bridget used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in developing countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone. will most definitely have quizzed your character on institutionalised racism whilst inhaling nos at a party and snacking on a big bowl of cheesy wotsits

aesthetic: big military or leather jackets over tiny little sundresses. always in docs or creepers and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson.

an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides style or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.

struggles with self-image and the need to be Loved By All a lot. uses sex as an affirmation of her worth and also kinda manic-depressive (though not officially diagnosed) bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist and hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.

back at lockwood she was working two jobs to pay for uni !! at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also as a burger flipper at mcdonalds. in amsterdam she’s managed to secure a part-time bar job at one of the hendrix university bars

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who’re like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than flipping burgers — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.

she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.

she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, gregarious, easily bored, childish.

SOME ?MILDLY AMUSING? FACTS

writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

favourite drink is cherry coke

a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom’s club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures

that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb

really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.

micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out

volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types , like.... have a day off, jameela jamil......

has a pet rat called popeye

takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk

big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity

wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published

this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx

time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.

an awful person, really

plots i want that i mostly stole from the tags

muse a tries to stand up for muse b in a bar but unfortunately cannot fight for shit.

muse a (prob bridget cos works in a bar) works somewhere that’s open late and muse b comes in to take shelter from the storm.

‘I got in my car and you were sleeping in the backseat who the hell are you and how did you get into my car’

umm a wlw plot isnpired by san junipero ! esp this post. could have been a former fling that ended sourly !! cos i dont like ship forcing but still?? give me wlw stuff

“i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”

“platonically sharing a bed until i wake up and you’re curled round me and my nose is buried in your hair so i’ll pretend to stay asleep to keep this for a little while longer” plots

“highkey want a ‘someone wrote your phone number on the wall of a bathroom in my dorm with ‘call for a good time’ and i just texted you to let you know that i scribbled it out and oh wait you’re actually funny and easy to talk to and now we’re talking every day and i might have a tiny little crush on you even tho i don’t even know your name’ plot”

goddamn its another shippy wlw plot apparently that’s all my tag is but this post

“known for being rebels without cause, MUSE A and MUSE B are synonymous to their fast cars, nights out beneath the stars, empty bottles of alcohol, and loud music. they meet by chance one night and immediately click, and embark on a careless adventure after it despite not knowing each other. it’s them against the world: after all, what could go wrong ?”

any of these sad sour unrequited love plots

‘we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me bc you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au

‘I accidentally dropped you while you were crowd surfing and you broke your ankle and now I feel responsible so I’m carrying you out of the moshpit’ au

walked in on my roommate and you screwing except i know you from class and i freaked out a little

i was hustling you in pool for money but you were hustling me for free drinks so who’s the real winner here?

bridgot goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, cos she’s writing about the history of pornographic film n its basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there

i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break

som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk

drama. angst. horror. also nice bike rides in amsterdam please

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

#i have literally just slapped bridget n frida in a blender.#sorry if u had plots with frida. pls feel free 2 discuss w me n we could just do them w one of my other characters instead if it fits.#xxxx plot with me my goblin children xxx #water:intro

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vitalpen · 6 years

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Redesign

(Yo. Its been almost a year, Chapter 5 came out a couple weeks back, Squiggly was lookin’ for some stuff to read, and I missed this AU. So have a little thing just talking about how scary change can be, but how necessary it is. Not specific to Toon Henry, but using it as a setting becuase I’m (ironically) and creature of habit. Here’s a link to a visual aid

https://squigglydigg.tumblr.com/post/166168062821/so-whatisthisnonsense-and-i-were-talking-a-little)

“Morning,” a tired man groaned his way down the stairs, still in mint green pajamas and rabbit slippers..

“Mornin’”, the cartoon character sitting on his couch, flipping through channels at a comedic speed, groaned in a similar fashion.

Henry Ross stretched a little, working out the kinks in his back and trying to wake himself up a little more. “Where’s Alice and Boris?”

“Morning walk, the lunatics,” Bendy replied.

“Mmm,” was Henry’s only reply. He wasn’t surprised. Those two always did have an easier time getting up in the morning. He was old and Bendy was… Bendy. “How’d you sleep?”

“Dang storm kept me up.” The toon jerked a thumb upward, “Must be one heck of a bowling tournament goin’ on up there.” In his groggy state, it took Henry a moment to realize Bendy was talking about Heaven.

“Yeah, must be,” he walked into the kitchen and looked in the fridge. After a moment, he called back, “You eat yet?”

“Nope,” came the answer. Another thing that wasn’t surprising.

“I was thinking eggs and toast, sound good?”

“Ooh! Can I help?” The reply came from just on the other side of the fridge door. Henry closed it just a little to find the toon with enormous, glistening eyes, and his hands folded next to his cheek, “Pleeeeease?”

“Sure, you can do the toast,” he replied bluntly.

Immediately the toon deflated… literally. He just as quickly re-inflated with a nonplussed expression and an indignant puffing of his chest. “The toast? What kind of amateur errand-boy do you take me for?”

“The kind that might still find a way to set something on fire.” The toon’s track record in the kitchen was anything but spotless.

“You’ve got insurance,” Bendy verbally handwaved.

“And a fire extinguisher now on standby,” Henry countered. It hadn’t been there two months ago.

With a final puff and dramatic sigh, the toon relented. “Fine, I’ll do the stinkin’ toast.” He grumbled his way past Henry to the breadbox and yanked the bag out.

With a chuckle, Henry took out the egg carton and looked at the time. “When did they leave?”

“Around half past 7.” Bendy climbed up onto the counter and sat at the ready next to the toaster.

It was about 7:50 now, which meant they would probably be back soon. “Did they eat?” He looked over to Bendy, who shrugged. Henry pursed his lips for a moment, then decided against making something for them just yet. The eggs didn’t take long to make. If they hadn’t, he could just make some when they got home. With that decided, he put two frying pans on the stove and grabbed a mixing bowl. A little bit of milk, four eggs, and some mixing later, the scrambled eggs were ready to be cooked. He melted butter in the bottom of both pans and poured the egg and milk mix into one, then cracked the last two into the other. “Alright, put the toast in.”

“Oui, mon capitaine,” Bendy saluted and pressed the lever down on the toaster.

Henry pursed his lips again, debating something for a moment, then nodded to himself. “Hey, can you head to my office? In the top drawer, there’s a folder with a couple sheets I want you to grab and bring back here.”

“Sure.” Bendy hopped off and left the room.

“Don’t look at them until you’re back in here, alright?”

“Sure, sure, keepin’ yer secrets, I getcha,” Bendy called back. In less than two minutes, he was back, carrying a folder full of papers. He set them on the kitchen table and waited patiently. “Sure you’re not worried about getting’ grease on’em?”

“It’s fine, we’ll be careful.” He flipped his eggs and continued moving around the slowly solidifying batter for Bendy’s. “Open it and look at the first sheet, tell me what you think.”

With a curious raise of the eyebrow, Bendy did as he was told. What he saw caught him entirely off guard. The first sheet was full of sketches, designs, even a fully colored image. He, Boris, and Alice, all looking a far cry from themselves. He was probably the most untouched. His solid black form, head shape, and gloves were all intact, but his limbs were a bit thicker, his proportions a bit less stretchy, face less rounded, and his bowtie was yellow. Boris and Alice had gotten a much more thorough treatment. Boris was sporting dark brown fur, blue overalls, and a brand new ascot. Alice was by far the most striking. The black had been traded for white on the dress, red on her gloves and boots, and blonde in her hair. “What’s all this?” He finally asked. “You applyin’ to Hanna-Barbera?”

Henry chuckled, flipping his eggs one more time and starting to scoop Bendy’s onto a plate. “No, just throwing some things at the wall, seeing what sticks.” The toast popped and Bendy took the opportunity to get a rest from the new designs.

“Why?” He asked cautiously as he climbed up and plucked the slices from their hot cradles.

Henry handed Bendy the plate of scrambled eggs and started getting his onto a plate. “Well, the designs for you three have been around for decades. Black and white, massive pupils, it’s something a lot of other studios have moved away from.”

“You thinkin’ of doin’ that too?” Bendy set his plate down and held a hand out for Henry’s, still sorting out the feelings as they arose.

“Not yet,” the old man replied, offering the plate for his toast. “But if we do, I want to make sure I have some idea on where we’d be going with it.” He sensed the toon’s worry and offered a reassuring smile. “After all, I’ve got three very important opinions to take into account.” They both took their plates to the table, and Henry retrieved the salt and pepper. “Now, you’ve clearly got some feedback for me.”

“Is it that obvious?” Bendy grabbed the silverware for them and a carton of orange juice. Henry just replied with a smirk as he set a couple glasses out. “Well, if you’re up for a critique.”

“You don’t get by in the industry without it,” Henry replied as he sat down. Bendy joined him, having grabbed some jam for his toast.

“Well, I don’t hate the splash o’ color, but I’m not sure how I feel about havin’ cheek bones,” the toon took a moment to tear into his eggs. “However,” he continued with his mouth full, “I think the limbs are what looked the weirdest. I’m used to these noodles,” he displayed his spaghetti thin arms to demonstrate, “not normal lookin’ arms and legs, you know?”

Henry nodded, the toon had been reflecting a lot of his own thoughts on the designs. He liked them, and he knew that the three could do with some updating, but drawing them in such a starkly different way than he’d been doing his whole career, it would definitely take getting used to. “What about Boris and Alice?”

“Well,” Bendy rubbed his chin, giving his thoughts time to form into words. “Boris is the easier one to swallow. He still just looks like plain ol’ Boris. He’d probably like the ascot, when I think about it.” He cast his eyes to Alice’s new look. “That one gets me.”

“Thought I’d try something daring,” Henry explained.

“It’s daring, alright. Switching out the black for all this bright n’ vibrant stuff. She looks a bit more angelic, that’s for sure,” he paused with his eyes squinted.

“But…” Henry urged.

“But it doesn’t look like her,” Bendy blurted out like he’d been holding his breath. “You know me, I’m a ‘glory days’ kinda guy. I like how we look, and seein’ that change is kinda hurts, you know?” He stopped and stood up and started pacing, “But things gotta change, right? Clinging to the past ain’t healthy,” he looked meaningfully at Henry, “we both know a thing or two about that.” His circuit back and forth continued. “And change ain’t always a bad thing, sometimes ya need it. Most places are doin color shows by now, even the mouse put some red in his shorts years ago. Most of the cartoons we make these days are in color, we’re the holdouts on that one.”

Henry waited quietly as the toon debated himself, more than a little amused by how similar the train of thought was to his.

“But does that mean we gotta start lookin’ like the Jetsons? Do we all gotta start wearing shit collars so talkin’s easier to animate?” He stopped pacing and started tapping his foot with his arms crossed and his stare boring into the floor, after a moment he looked back at Henry. “Am I overreacting? I think I might be overreacting. Maybe I’m just too much of an old man, scared by these new-fangled cartoons.” He slowly made his way back to his seat, taking a bite out of his toast. “But I don’t want us to do it too much, and lose all the great stuff we had in the first place.” He looked at Henry again, a little lost. “Am I making sense?”

That was when Henry finally had to laugh. It was like was hearing his own thoughts acted out in front of him. “More than you realize.” He brushed the crumbs off his hands and turned to the next page. “How about this?”

What was meant to be a glance at the sheet devolved easily into staring. His eyes were glued to the paper, completely silent as he looked over every line, every detail. As he looked, the toon’s lost expression changed to intrigue, then to wonder and a wide smile broke out on his face. “Well, helloooo there, handsome. Have we met?” The page was filled with a second set of designs. The first attempt had been such a tumultuous thought process afterward, he’d decided to try again. It was always a good idea to have multiple takes on an idea anyway.

Like before, Bendy was the most unchanged. Instead of yellow, Henry had gone with red, changing his bowtie and the soles of his shoes. Boris was also mostly the same, with tan overalls colored different from his white face now and there was a bit of blush in the cheeks to accent the black and white. Alice had the most done to her; like the first attempt, she’d been given a real skin tone, but instead of white and red, he’d kept the black and added some blue. These designs also kept the more prominent eyes, just giving them whites to frame the pupils.

When he got his fill, Bendy looked up at Henry with a questioning look. “You had these the entire time?’ With a knowing grin, Henry nodded. “And you decided to let me have an existential crisis before you broke’em out?”

“I had some doubts and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just me,” Henry defended. “I didn’t expect you to get that far into it, though. Besides, I had a feeling you’d like these ones more.” With that, he stood up and took Bendy’s empty plate, stacking it on his own. “What do you think?”

“You’re right, I do like’em more,” Bendy grabbed their glasses and followed him, feeling oddly optimistic. “They feel more like us, you know? It’s not tryin’ to make us into something we’re not, we still look like we could stretch a little bit, like we belong in a slapstick show, not a cartoon family sitcom.”

Henry laughed; the comparison was fairly apt, he had to admit. “So is that a green light from you?”

“Bright n’ shiny,” Bendy confirmed with a nod. Henry took the glasses from him and he went to retrieve their silverware from the table too. As they cleaned the kitchen up, the toon felt a thought nudge its way into his noggin. It was only by the time they were done that he’d finally worked it into a question, “Change is a good thing, right?”

Henry smiled down at the toon and nodded. “It’s gonna happen anyway, so it might as well be.”

They walked to the couch Bendy had been occupying before and sat down. “Then,” Bendy started, but stopped, forming the question a bit more before he tried to ask it. “Why’s it gotta scare the heck outta everybody everytime it comes ‘round?”

“Because it’s usually not gonna wait for you to be ready,” Henry sat down and Bendy hopped up. “Sometimes the only thing you can do is roll with it, try to keep up, and,” without warning, an arm hooked around Bendy and pulled him in close to the man, forcing a grunt and a chew toy squeak from the little imp, “make sure you’ve got a pal nearby to keep you going.”

Being allowed room to breathe, the toon cast a pair of annoyed, squinting eyes at the old man, then laughed. “Yeah, well, lucky for you, I’m here, ya jerk.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, probably more sincerely than the imp was prepared for, “lucky me.”

#toon henry au #squigglydigglydoo #bendy and the ink machine #batim #writing #fanfic #did this in about three and a half hours #apologies for any typoes or weird phrasing

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lanasaved · 5 years

Text

cue me, clanking noisily at a nearby manhole as i attempt to scrabble my way bk out of the sewer like the stinky little rat tht i am. enchanté, ghouls! some of u might remember me (nai/from manchester so i pronounce things like a gallagher brother n i’m profusely sry abt it) bt if nt i hd to drop off the face of the Earth rp wise fr a hot minute there bt now im bk n i couldn’t resist reviving lana so???? here we r. u kno the drill more abt her under the cut!!

( cis-female ) haven’t seen LANA JAMESON around in a while. the KRISTINE FROSETH lookalike has been known to be (+) VIVACIOUS & (+) ALLURING, but SHE can also be (-) UNRELIABLE & (-) CARELESS. The 22 year old is a SOPHOMORE majoring in BALLET. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( nai. 22. gmt. she/ha/the beast from split. )

some random aesthetics: a red water pistol topped up with caribbean rum and covered in stickers of cartoon pin up girls, a vinyl record whirring silently because you got too distracted by a stranger’s hands to reach over and flip sides, giant inflatable flamingos floating in the aftermath of a pool party, smudgy lipstick kisses left like an autograph on someone else’s mirror

SO i think in terms of explainin where she’s been fr the past month i’m gna say tht she didn’t rly.... tell a lot of ppl??? probably only a select few bt to others im guessin she was pretty vague bc she hates discussin anythin serious/personal. anyway essentially she’s been back @ home helpin her brother out n i won’t elaborate much more bc im a thot

frm this point on ive jst pasted her old intro bc im the laziest woman alive n that’s jst life Babey

she’s local to the ny area i jst havent decided where exactly she grew up tbh. probably somewhere upstate

okay so her mum is an old money socialite / three time campaign model way back when n her dad is a big record label mogul. he owns a label called jameson records n they repped a few rly big rock bands back in the eighties, altho they’re mostly known for ‘poppy injects’ whose lead singer had a big heroin scandal tht brought down his career. lana p much grew up around musicians snorting lines instead of spooning down cereal fr breakfast n her parents were v much absent her whole life

they’re pretty well off obviously n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. she amassed kind of an instagram following mainly fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects aka lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst.... a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, flame red cowboy boots, pastel coloured fishnet tights n glitter used like highlight Everywhere) n bc she’s undeniably very pretty

her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her. it was v clear that she was an accident after her older brother caleb n that even when they just had him alone they weren’t cut out for parenthood. they always kind of jst… ignored her n hoped she’d go away. she had to mke herself microwave meals when she ws only like 12 bc they’d forget to get her anything. once she went like 6 days without her mum even looking her in the eyes once

despite this tho!!! she’s always been insanely close w her brother caleb. he’s her whole world. thts why when he decided to sign up to the army she ws understandably scared bt supported him regardless. bt then he wound up getting discharged under grounds of severe ptsd when he witnessed his best friend die in an explosion tht took place in a shock raid. caleb returned home n he was never the same n lana kind of felt like he’d died out there too. he’s in n out of hospital a lot n it’s rly hard on her bt she doesn’t tlk abt it to anyone rly

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. jst literally…. knew everyone n everyone definitely knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once. she has this magnetic way abt her tht is kind of hard to find in real life. it’s something ud only rly expect out of a movie character

she’s always been insatiably spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand stories tht always earn a laugh or a gasp over how ridiculously absurd they r

anyway so after caleb got back he was rly withdrawn n depressed. he shut lana out n was kind of harsh to her a lot of the time, always telling her to leave him alone or pushing her away. it didnt help either tht lana had a rly traumatic experience w some of her dad’s colleagues at the label when she ws 16 n he was away n she cldnt even tell him abt it once he was bk bc of his own traumas. she kind of jst shut it all in n kept it to herself

this obviously?? made her spiral a lot. she was already a girl tht loved sex (she’d only rly done foreplay before tho) but since her trauma it got…. completely out of hand. it got to a point where she couldnt rly go 2 days without it, probably not even 1. her lowest point has probably been scrolling thru craiglist for anonymous encounters n meeting up w strangers on there fr a quick fuck jst for the thrill even tho it’s insanely dangerous n she cld wind up getting herself killed. it’s v clear at this point tht she has a sex addiction whether she’s ever admitted it or not. in fact she’s so… shameless in her endeavours tht she’s actually currently having an affair w her ballet instructor tanya who’s engaged to b married

she also currently? is working as a cam girl. she found this website bc she trawls… porn stuff a lot n she wound up applying to work as one bc she thought it’d b fun n wld earn her some disposal income (even tho she frankly doesn’t need it bc she’s already well off). the guy tht manages all of the girls on the site is kind of suspect n it’s a whole plot i’m gna unravel where it’s actually like the front for a cult or something wild so. stay posted ig. kgjdkgjh

new development!!!!!!!! cue me trottin around doin jazz hands. she’s actually been cut off by her dad so she’s….. living off the money she has left n has to look to find a job which is jst. a nightmare fr someone like lana bc she’s insatiably irresponsible n destined to be fired from anything she tries to hold down bt. it’ll be interesting bc this means she genuinely has to keep on camming even tho she’s starting not to want to any more bc of other circumstances i won’t elaborate on jst yet winks

personality/some fun facts: uncontrollably flirty. boundlessly confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n her comedy is sometimes surreal / absurd. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine. always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. her fav book as a child used to b alice in wonderland n she’d fantasise abt having her own little wonderland too where everyone knew her name n asked her things n took her on adventures. at the time it didn’t rly strike her how evident it was tht that was bc she was so lonely. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s strawberry laces or gummy bears or cherry lollipops. she adores david bowie n prince n madonna n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think. wildflowers r her favourites bc they’re the brightest and u can’t buy them. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. i dnt think she’s actually been w anyone she hasn’t cheated on in some form or another

plot ideas: exes tht lana’s fucked over hideously. she’d probably cheat a lot and it’d be a whole…mess. mayb someone tht flipped the switch and cheated on her? a cousin plot cld b fun too. a friend tht lana fel out w bc she slept w their significant other. someone tht’s getting lana into drugs?? she’s kind of impressionable/down for anything so tht’s a likely scenario she’d get into tbh. an unrequited crush!! (either way is cool). someone tht is just hanging out w her/using her bc she has a lot of instagram followers or they want to b signed to her dad’s label. someone in a band!! she’d probably make like penny lane n b their groupie/sleep w them all fgjkshgkh. umm a good influence too mayb? oh and a past summer romance/fling tht cld either have meant a lot or not have meant anything at all. bonus points if both of them hav a diff viewpoint on it. honestly?? anything is fine i cld ramble for days. let’s get wildt!

#water:intro #inhales a deep breath before slappin down these tws #theyr all only briefly touched upon / vague bt! jst to be sure #rape tw #statutory rape tw #abuse tw #ptsd tw #hospitalisation tw #hypersexuality tw #death tw #mental illness tw #drugs tw #also im literally 2 lazy to finish doin her blog so if u click on the pages n r shocked by the barren findings then i jst. i jst dnt kno #wht to tell u

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