#I do get notifications so DMs work to chat!

[stillcominback]

👻👻👻

[monster-noises]

Ooo.. ouch. Just got very, rightfully,.. rejected? Dismissed?.. yeah sumarily Dismissed and Blocked

By a guy i've been talking to from a dating site and he was very nice about it but Ouch..

It's completely my fault, I am not good at responding to messages in a timely manner at the best of times and the past few Months have Not been the best of times and I've been leaving longer and longer gaps between replies which is completely unfair of me to do and definitely not cool or nice but I just couldn't make it happen

And i feel So Bad because he was really nice, and really patient, and really kind, and genuinely very nice to talk to but there truly is only so much one can take and I really can't blame him if he reached his limit like.. yeah.

It's one of the damn things about myself that i Desperately wish i could Fix because this is Not the first time this has happened (though usually i just get ghosted) and i'm Fully aware of how it looks from the other side, and it's Gutting to be so aware that I must come off as such a fucking Asshole

Sometimes I can pull it together and it gets better but so So much more often I just fumble it and the executive dysfunction and Reply Anxiety just gets Worse and Worse and it just catastrophically Drops out when my mental health takes a dip, which funnily always matches up with when i'm trying to get to know several new people at once lmao, and I can Try and Try but it doesn't get any better.. and I've managed to get through it with a Handful of people to the point where i have Less reply anxiety and can message them back Sooner (though often still at a delay) but on the whole this is just... How this goes

And I just wish i wasn't like this, I don't want to do this people but I don't want to be Alone but I don't know how to Fix It either and it just Sucks on top of everything else Sucking right now

Blegh

[jenniekrj]

“I said,delete it.”{Roommate!Dom!Hyunjin x Sub!F!Reader}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings:Mentions of drinking alcohol and smoking weed,blowjob,fingering,cum play,daddy kink,choking,spitting,riding,unprotected sex,spanking,creampie,oral sex and just straight up filth.

A/N:The tumblr algorithm works on reblogs,so please consider rebloging so it can reach more people,enjoy!! 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin has been your roommate for over a year now and it has been great.Sure you didn’t know much about each other,but you still really liked his company around the place.

All you knew about him is that he would often go to parties,come home late at night drunk and high,bring girls over and have the nastiest sex with them,smoke lots of weed and just smoke in general,have parties at your shared apartment and cook really good food.He seemed very popular and like everybody just wanted to be around him.

At some point,all the pornographic moans that came out of his bedroom did annoy and bother your sleep,but his kindness and calm energy made up for all the disturbances.

Last week,he started following your Instagram.All he did was just view your stories and very rarely like anything you post.You guys never chatted on there,but why should you? You have his number and you literally live with the man.

Hyunjin was almost everyone’s type,he was muscular,tall,handsome,funny,smart,he had a few tattoos,charismatic,strong and he was two years older than you.Just your type.

It was your second year of college and you made a few friends,they were the best.On the other hand,Hyunjin had a whole group and there might be more that you don’t even know of.

Every weekend he would invite his friends over and pull an all-nighter with them.You knew his friends since they follow you on Instagram.You only ever said a simple ‘Hey,how are you guys?’ whenever you saw them.

-

It was a Saturday night and you were very bored,all you did all day was lay in your bed.You were thinking of ways to cure your boredom when you suddenly got the idea to post some pictures on your Instagram account,so you got up and picked an outfit from your closet.

After you put the outfit on you posed in front of the large mirror and snapped a couple of photos.You were wearing a baby blue lace mini crop top with a white mini skirt and some knee high socks.

You weren’t lying if you said you dressed this slutty just for Hyunjin to see,you had the most massive crush on the older and it wasn’t just some random crush,it was a sexual type of crush and you couldn’t help it.You posted the photos with the caption, “Is this sexy enough for you?” It was obvious you were trying to get someone’s attention,and it might’ve worked.Not even five minutes later and your post had so many likes and comments,people loved this look,especially Hyunjin.

You were scrolling around on your feed when a notification pops up,it’s from none other than Hyunjin,he sent you a DM.Of course,you rush to his profile and check the DM.

“Delete the post,I saw it already.”

Is all he said.

“What? Who said it was for you?”

You replied back,you wanted to seem hard to get even though this post way mainly for him to see.

“I said,delete it.”

He said before barging into your room.

“You really think I’m gonna let other people see what’s all mine,hmm Y/N?” Hyunjin said as he grabbed you by the arm and pinned you against the wall. “But,we’re not even dating,why do you care?” You replied back,trying to push back the urge to just kiss him right there.Your voice was shaking and almost filled with stutters,but you couldn’t show him your weak side,you wanted to see how far you could push him. “You belong to me,Y/N.I’ve seen and heard how you touch yourself to the sounds of me fucking other women,so don’t act all dumb right now.”

What? How’d he know? How’d he know you get wet by just the thought of him? It’s insane how well he knows you when you’ve barely spoken to each other,but you liked it.

“Mmm,how about you get the fuck out of my face?” You said,trying to seem intimidating,but Hyunjin wasn’t having it. “How about I fuck that attitude out of you? You’d like that,wouldn’t you?” It’s almost like he read you,and you enjoyed everything about it.

“Make me.”

“Bet.”

Was all he replied before smashing his lips onto yours,he pulled you closer into a rough but sloppy kiss and you just let him have you.His hands ran all over your body and your arms were wrapped around his neck,occasionally caressing his face and tangling your fingers in his hair.

Hyunjin moved his lips down to your neck,he slightly bit on your skin only to find your sweet spot,once he had found it he started sucking hard.He grabbed your ass,giving it a few light smacks.

“Get on the bed.” He said after he pulled away,signaling with his head towards your bed.You laid yourself onto your bed,with only your elbows holding you up.

Hyunjin dropped to his knees and kissed all over your inner thigh.You sighed a little before you had realized he was getting higher.He ran his fingers up and down across your clothed clit.He then slid your panties off and almost immediately attached his lips to your swollen cunt. “Fuck,you’re so wet.All for me,right?” Hyunjin said before licking up your folds while maintaining eye contact.You cried out a ‘yeah’ only for him to slap your thighand say “Use your words,princess.” Even though he knows you can’t utter a proper word,he still wanted to tease you a little. “Come on,don’t make me say it again.” Hyunjin says into your pussy which makes your head fall back. “Yes yes! Oh- please just go faster,I’ll do anything for you daddy,please.” You practically scream,not yet processing what you had just said.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Since you’re so nice.”

He said before his tongue thrusted in and out of your pussy.It drove you insane at how good he was.Though,you were expecting this because of how loud the women were whenever he brought them over.

“I- cum please..” you managed to speak as you rolled your hips. “Go on,cum for me like a good slut would.” Hyunjin encouraged you and you came almost immediately after he spoke.You came all in his mouth and all over his face. “Fuck,you taste wonderful.” He praised.

He sat next to only to say, “Get on your knees.” and of course,you did as he said.You almost immediately dropped to your knees and started undoing his sweatpants.Once they were off,your eyes widened at how large he was and he just smirked.

“Too big? Or are you just weak?”

“Don’t fucking call me weak,Hyunjin.”

“Cutie.”

You rolled your eyes and started stroking his dick,he rolled his head back and his right hand went to your head. “Open up.” And you did.

You licked the slit on his tip as he groaned,you could tell how much he enjoyed this.Your eyes started getting watery as you slowly took his whole dick in. “Come on,be a good girl and take all of me.I know you can.” Hyunjin said with a moan coming after his words.

You started bobbing your head as tears fell down each one of your cheeks,even though it hurt you still loved it.His grip on your hair tightened as he moved your head closer to his veiny cock. “Fuck,right there baby.I’m so close.” He moaned out and came right after his announcement.

You felt your mouth get filled with a warm and thick liquid that tasted sweet.You were about to swallow,but Hyunjin stopped you and said, “Open your mouth.” You did as he said and he stuck two fingers in,he moved his fingers all around your cum-filled mouth and soon took them out,only to put them into his mouth and lick all of the cum off of his fingers. You swallowed and got up to sit next to him,but Hyunjin had other plans.He laid down and pulled you on top of him.

“Ride me.”

“What?”

“Come on,don’t run away from it.”

“I’m not,I just..”

“What? What is it,sweetheart?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s fine,I’ll teach you nice and slow.”

You nodded your head and positioned yourself above his still hard dick and slowly lowered yourself onto him.You gasped at how much he stretched you out and he just let out a dark chuckle. “Hyu-Hyunjin it’s too much.” You stuttered as you breathed out. “I know ma,but you can take,right? Aren’t you a good girl?” He said as he caressed your face. “Ye-yes I am!” You said as you started moving your hips.

“You like that?” Hyunjin said as he thrusted up into you and your response was just moans and whimpers. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled.You bounced up and down on his dick and all you could think of was how good it felt.

“Go faster,ma.” Hyunjin said after spanking your ass and grabbing onto your neck,basically chocking you.You tried to go faster even though your legs gave up a long time ago,but you went on and soon felt a knot in your stomach.His thrusts were becoming sloppier and you knew he was close. “I’m gonna c-cum,daddy.” You said. “Me too,princess.” Hyunjin said before you both came together.

His cum filled your cunt and now it was oozing out of your heated hole.Once you both came down from your high,you fell down onto him,your head now on his chest.Hyunjin flipped you over,now he was on top of you.He grabbed your jaw and said, “Open up,baby.” He spat in your mouth and you swallowed.Hyunjin leaned down and kissed you,but this time it was a passionate kiss,slow but still somewhat messy.Your tongues moved in sync as his hands slowly massaged your tits.He pulled away,leaving you panting and breathing heavily.

You laid there for a couple of minutes when it hit you that his friends are still coming over in a few minutes.Your eyes widened and you tried to push him off of you. “What’s wrong?” Hyunjin questioned. “Your friends,aren’t they coming?” You looked at him with a slight pout. “Yeah,but that’s nothing to worry about and you said you would do anything,

right my love?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Just for a second - Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N "dated" Lando for a while but life happens and sometimes it isn't a fairy tale.

Warnings: Fluff and a sad ending.

Word Count: 17K

Notes: Please, no second part requests. This is me trying to deal with personal stuff I don't know how to work out, and writing helps me get it out. I wrote it in a rush so excuse the mistakes.

___________________________________________________________

An Instagram DM request caught your attention, when clicking on the notification his name froze you. You doubted about opening it.

After panicking for a couple of minutes you finally did.

LvNg4Lf Hey, I will be in Italy next week. Can I take you out for some dinner?

Your heart rushed a million miles an hour.

You had kept yourself busy for the last year to keep him out of your mind, but the moment his stupid face and name appeared on your phone it all came back.

"Y/n? Are you ok?" Ana, your best friend and roommate asked softly as if not to scare you.

"Sorry, yes" you answered matching her tone

"Are you sure? You're biting your nails again"

You removed your hand from your mouth.

"He messaged me"

"Who?" You just stared at her. "Oh hell no, what does he want?"

"He will be here next week, he wants to buy me dinner"

"Why?"

"Don't know"

"What did you say?"

"I haven't answered"

"Are you going?"

"I don't know"

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know, I thought a year would be enough to get over it, but I guess not" you said signaling your bitten nails.

"I don't know what to tell you"

"It's ok, I don't know what I need to hear"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Hell, no, it's your anniversary dinner. You go, I will be fine"

"Are you sure, I can tell-"

"Go" You pushed her off the couch "Say hi to Leo from me. Have fun"

"Ok, but message me if you need anything"

"I won't and you know it, go!" You pushed her out the door and sat back on the couch, your phone on the coffee table. How could something so insignificant as a message have you losing your mind?

You and Lando had met in the UK at a Quadrant shooting, your boss was in charge of the art department for the shooting but that weekend he had caught a bad cold, and after the pandemic, anything close to the mild flu meant someone else had to take the job and that's how you found yourself in a meeting room with Lando, Max and the rest of the creative team.

It was an instant click, he was funny, and smart, and much to your surprise he had a good eye for colors, textures, and lighting, he was clearly an amateur but better than a few of your "professional" coworkers.

The shooting was long but so entertaining and with such an amazing vibe between you and Lando, when he offered to drive you to your hotel you didn't hesitate and said yes.

It was all super friendly, both of you talking about everything and nothing at the same time, you sat in his car talking well past 5 am.

The next morning you got an Instagram follow request from a weird account and a DM request.

LvNg4Lf Hi, it's Lando, last night was so much fun, it was amazing working with you. I would love to invite you to lunch and talk about future projects. This is my personal account, please don't share it.

The next day the group chat was exploding with messages asking you for details about your hot night with the F1 driver, but there was nothing to tell, it had been all innocent.

The dates started as innocent work meetings but slowly the topics drifted from work to more personal stuff, then the Instagram DMs became more and more frequent, and before you realized you started seeing each other for movie nights and dinner dates. The first kiss happened one night after dinner, he was dropping you off at your flat. He had been weird all night as if something was bothering him, you were worried something was wrong.

"Thanks so much for dinner" You said as he helped you out of his car. "Please let me know when-" He pulled you hard against him placing his hand on your cheek.

"Don't hate me, please" He whispered, and joined your lips shyly.

You kissed him back, it was as natural as all those dates. His soft lips against yours felt amazing.

"I'm sorry" he said out of breath as his forehead rested against yours.

"Don't" You gave a quick peck to his lips.

Just a kiss was shared that night, even when your body was asking for more, and judging by the bulge pressing against your hip, he was craving more too, but neither of you wanted to rush it.

It was just a situationship but it was intense. You kept it down on the low, only your roommate and best friend, and his best friend knew about it. You could see how everyone treated the other "WAGS" and your mental stability wasn't ready for that kind of pressure, especially when you didn't even know what was happening.

He was flying straight back to London after every race, staying over at your house or you going to his, spending as much time together as you could. Movie nights and romantic dinners in either of your places were the usual, but you didn't care about not being outside. His arms around your body, him kissing your forehead, neck, and lips, was better than any date outside, you couldn't keep your hands off each other and didn't want to risk being caught in public.

You were falling, and falling hard. Once you even flew to surprise him at a doubleheader, spending one amazing week with him, living the full F1 experience.

His personal brand had reached a high peak and his management advised him to move to Monaco, it was a good economic decision. He was so excited when he told you about it as he showed you the apartment he had just leased, but all you could think about was what about the "relationship"?

It was the post-sex rush that made him ask you to move with him to Monaco, but it wasn't that easy. You loved your job, and you had worked so hard to get to the position you had now, leaving the country for a situationship wasn't the smartest idea, especially when he wasn't sure about going public or even formalizing. Another suggestion from his team. His Playboy era had proved to be a great marketing strategy, his merch sales had increased the moment he broke up with his last girlfriend, so getting into a relationship was strongly discouraged.

You spoke about it once, but in the end, moving with him or him staying in London was out of the question.

You avoided the topic for the last couple of weeks you were together. He spent his last night in the UK at your place, since his place had been emptied. It was as lovely as every night you had been together, but you couldn't shake away the bitter taste of him leaving and not knowing what would come next,

"We will find a way to make this work, ok?" He whispered against your lips as you said your goodbyes.

"Promise?"

"Yes" he kissed you deeply, biting your lip one last time.

He got in his car and drove off.

You kept in touch, facetime was your best friend for a few weeks, but slowly the communication started to lessen. He had a lot of work with Quadrant and the races, and you received an offer to lead the company's office in Italy which kept you crazy busy.

You moved to Italy a couple months after he had left for Monaco. Thank God, your best friend found a way to move with you thanks to her remote work, keeping you company whenever you needed to vent about your situationship. Around that time you were messaging just a couple times every couple of weeks.

Slowly whatever you had faded away, and even when you still had feelings for him, you did your best to keep yourself busy trying to bury whatever you felt under tons of work and meaningless dates.

But now, his message pulled all those feelings back up, and they were as strong as they were a year ago.

Y/USERNAME Y/workadress, on Friday I'm off at 5

LvNg4Lf Great, see you on Friday

Thank God, Ana spent the rest of the week at her boyfriend's, when she texted you asking about Lando you just replied "I'm not sure yet", she had such a strong mom vibe she would've rushed home just to talk to you about it, ruining Leo's anniversary plans.

"Y/n, somebody's waiting for you in the lobby" one of your workmates said as she entered the meeting room, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Thanks, Lis" You gattered your things nervously.

"Who's the cutie?"

"An old friend" you said escaping her interrogation, you were anxious enough to also worry about the office gossiping about your relationships.

The moment the elevator doors opened you recognized him, his back was facing your way, but the curls were unforgettable, and his arms those damn arms.

"Hey" you softly said standing behind him.

"Hi" A big smile on his face as he took you in his arms.

You hugged him back, it was as if no time had passed. He was bigger, stronger, and his back was broader, but still, your body fitted inside his embrace like a glove, and his scent, you had missed it so much.

He took your bag and jacket as he walked you to his car. Inside he handed you his phone.

"What?" You asked confused, he was usually the designated DJ.

"Your address"

"Why?"

"You need to pack for the weekend"

"What? I thought we were just having dinner"

"Do you trust me?" he stared at you making your heart rush.

"Calm down, Aladdin"

His particular laugh melted your heart, you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound.

You typed your address and started the route.

You shared small talk, he asked you about your day at work and you asked about his trip there.

"Go, I will wait here, I need to make a couple calls" He opened the door and offered his hand to help you out.

"What should I pack for?"

"Whatever you might need for a weekend, if anything is missing we can buy it, now go" He kissed your forehead and took out his phone as you rushed up to your apartment.

You took a quick shower, shaved, and trimmed where it was needed, not that you were expecting anything to happen, as far as you knew this was all friendly, but you didn't want to get caught offward.

"Holly shit, you're not going to believe who I saw-" Ana barged into your room as you were searching for a dress in your closet.

"-what are you doing?" She asked approaching the suitcase on your bed. You just turned and gave a nervous smile. "He invited you to have dinner, and you weren't even sure you were going, now you're packing?"

"Well..."

"Why are you packing? Are you escaping, want to jump in my car's trunk?"

"I'm not escaping, I'm not sure, he just told me to pack for the weekend"

"What if he's kidnapping you to take you to Monaco, should I call the police?"

"I'm not going to Monaco!"

"Not yet" A hint of sadness in her voice.

"I'm not, I swear, we're just doing something that I'm not sure what it is, but I'm not moving anywhere."

"Well, I guess the only thing we're sure about is that sex is part of the plan" She said pulling out the Victoria's Secret set you had packed.

"You never know" you answered with a cheeky smile.

You finished packing and rushed to the door.

"Please take care, be careful, and call me if you need anything, I will send the Italian troops your way immediately"

"Thanks, I will keep you posted" You hugged her and rushed downstairs, Lando placed your bag on the back of his truck and started driving without a map.

"Are you telling me where are we going?" You interrupted the conversation.

"Nope" A proud grin on his face.

"Are we going to Monaco?" You asked shyly.

"Do you want to go to Monaco?" He turned to look at you, some seriousness on his face.

"I'm just asking" You turned your blushing cheeks towards the passenger window.

You kept a casual conversation, the nerves were fading away but then he placed his hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched, it was a normal gesture when you were together, but now it felt like your leg was on fire.

A little over two hours later you were driving on a dirt road toward a lit-up old-style chalet.

He took both your bags, placed the code on the pad at the door and a beautiful living room appeared. It was one of those fairytale-like chalets.

"Follow me" He walked up some stairs to the only room in the house.

"One room?"

"I didn't think you would mind us sharing a bed. If you don't feel like it, I can sleep on the sofa" A hint of shame in his voice.

"No!" you said a little too loud. "I mean, I just... this is all just a surprise, that's it" You walked towards the bed and sat on it. He placed the bags next to the closet and walked towards you, he sneaked between your legs and you hugged him by the waist as his hands wrapped around your shoulders.

"Want to explore before it gets darker?" He kissed your hair.

"Sure" You followed him through the back door.

It was such a beautiful place, a jacuzzi was just outside the living room door, facing the Italian countryside. Not a single sign of other people for miles and miles.

He took your hand, intertwining your fingers as you walked through the dimly lit path. The conversation was about it all, your new job, the F1 season so far, just like old times.

Night fell and you walked back to the chalet, the full moon giving you enough light not to need the phone flashlight.

You prepared dinner and sat in the living room to watch a movie. After you finished eating you found yourself leaning against his chest, Aladdin playing on the flat screen as his fingers softly played with your hair, and yours traced the veins on his arm around your waist. A knot in your throat, you missed this so much.

As Aladdin was kissing Princess Jazmine after defeating Jafar his finger found your chin, turning it softly towards him. You stared deep into his eyes, your breath hitched when his tongue traced his lips. You moved your hand to cup his cheek and pulled him to join your lips. The kiss was soft, but filled with emotion.

His tongue entered your mouth as you turned your body to face him completely. His hands found your thighs guiding you to straddle him.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked breaking the kiss, as much as he was dying to be with you he wanted to make sure you were ok.

"Yes" you answered leaving a soft kiss on his nose.

That was all he needed to hear and in no time you were naked, his lips traveling to the places he missed the most. The moment he entered you it was as if you were two pieces from the same puzzle.

Magical, wasn't enough to describe the weekend. You had sex in every single surface of that chalet as if you were trying to make up for lost time. Even the sex in the jacuzzi was amazing, you had heard a ton of stories discouraging you from doing it in the water but it had been one of the best experiences in your life.

It was the early hours of Sunday, and you had to leave the chalet that afternoon. Your head on Lando's chest as his fingers traced figures on your back. A sudden feeling of sadness took over your body. A couple tears escaped your eyes.

"Y/n?" Lando took your face when he felt a warm tear on his chest and you sobbed silently.

"I'm ok" You said trying to sound normal.

"Come here" He sat up, his back against the headboard and he pulled you to straddle him, this time it wasn't sexual, he just needed you close. His face showed he was as unsure as you were, bringing more tears to your eyes.

"I know" he softly said as you laid your head on his chest and finally let the tears fall freely.

When the tears had eased you lifted your head back. Seeing your red eyes and nose broke his heart.

"You're thinking the same, right?" You lowly asked as you saw his eyes starting to water.

"Complicated?" his voice hoarsed from the tears he was holding back.

"Yes"

"You seem happy in Italy"

"You seem happy in Monaco"

He nodded and you leaned your head back on his chest as fresh tears fell from your eyes.

"Having you by my side would make me happier" he softly said as his fingers played with your hair.

"Same"

You knew that for now, this was impossible. As much as you loved being with him, you loved your work, your life in Italy was amazing and you couldn't ask him to do something you weren't willing to do yourself. Maybe you didn't love him as much as you thought, but why was this hurting so much? You could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces as his chest moved in a way that let you know he was crying too.

"I'm sorry" He whispered

"Don't, it was amazing, it's just...life"

"This fucking life"

"Ok" you took a deep breath and whipped your cheeks. "We still have a few hours, let's make the most of them"

He smiled, his eyes still shining from the tears, which made you sigh. "But first" He kissed your neck. "One more?" he pulled you down grinding your body against his growing bulge.

"Let's see if we can fit two" You smiled against his lips and hugged his neck.

After leaving the chalet you stopped by a small trattoria, eating slowly, enjoying every bite. Back on the road he was driving the speed limit, trying to spend the most time together.

He parked next to your car.

"I'll help you with it" He said as he stopped you from taking your bag.

"It's ok" You tried to reach for it.

"I insist" he took a step back.

"Lan, I can do it, please" You looked up at him, your eyes watery again.

"But..."

"Thanks for this, it was magical, but I think it's time" You tried to hold back the tears, he was doing the same. He didn't say a word but handed you your suitcase.

You hugged him hard. He breathed in your scent, trying to lock it in his memory and you did the same with his.

The garage door opening interrupted the moment.

He whipped your tears and you did the same with his.

He kissed your lips softly, you knew the three words he was holding back because you were holding them back too.

"Good luck next weekend"

"Thanks, good luck at work"

You said goodbye as if you were seeing each other soon just to make it less painful, but the truth was completely different.

He watched you walk towards the elevator. you saw a faint smile on his face as the door closed.

The moment your appartment door closed Ana rushed to you, hugging you hard when she saw the heavy tears falling from your eyes.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

-------------

So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in. 

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

-------------

My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.” 

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

-------------

Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence 

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 

My, my those eyes like fire 

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not 

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

-------------

We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words. Courage is easier found in the dark. My hands trail along his chest to the cadence of my voice.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine. 

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

[hotmessmaxpress]

Rosquez OnlyFans AU, part 6

Still no porn, sorry. We're almost back to the porn! Marc is sad, Alex is a good baby brother, the sausage dogs make an appearance. Uccio returns.

Marc continues posting. It’s his job, and he likes doing it, but every time he logs in and doesn’t have a notification from Valentino, it’s like a fresh wound. He just wants the chance to apologize, or beg for forgiveness, or say anything. He wants to start over. He wants to go back to the way he could spend all day thinking about Valentino; the way he was consumed with affection and desire for the other man. 

All along, not knowing that he was talking to Valentino Fucking Rossi. 

He obsessively stalks Valentino’s social media; he was already following him on everything, but now he pays special attention. He turns on post notifications for Vale’s instagram so he can be one of the first people to like anything he posts. 

Part of him wonders if Valentino will notice and block him. He contemplates DM’ing him, then realizes he probably doesn’t manage his own social media and he definitely won’t check DM’s from some random person. 

He just wishes he could talk to him. 

He manages to sweet talk Alex into coming to the Catalan GP with him. Tickets are easy to get, and it’s not like he has to miss work for it. 

“He’s not going to spot you in the grandstand, recognize your face, and decide to fall in love with you,” Alex says, flatly, as Marc is completing his 47-step skincare routine as they prepare to leave on the Friday of the GP.

“Fuck off,” Marc says, as if he hadn’t fantasized about that very scenario. “The universe will make something happen. I just want a chance to talk to him.”

“He’s racing, Marc. What, do you expect him to pull off to the side of the track and stop for a chat?”

“I’ll see him in the paddock,” he responds, with a huff.

“When will you be in the paddock?”

“We have passes,” Marc says with a grin. 

Alex rolls his eyes.

“You think Valentino Rossi will make an appearance for a paddock tour? Bullshit. And even if he did, he wouldn’t stop to talk. Even if he does recognize you, which he probably won’t, unless you take your cock out, which will just get us removed from the paddock. How much did you spend on those, anyway?”

Marc huffs.

“Stop being an asshole and let’s go.”

The paddock is crowded and overwhelming, even on a Friday. Marc is grateful for Alex’s height, as he tugs Marc along. He is temporarily stunned out of his quest to see Vale by running into Dani Pedrosa. 

“Oh! Sorry!” Dani says, and Marc stares at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Dani asks, incredulously. 

“I’m fine!” Marc says, voice coming out entirely too high. “Will you sign my hat?”

Dani laughs and signs his hat, as well as Alex’s. He doesn’t have time to stay to chat, but Marc is nearly wheezing from nerves as he walks away anyway.

“That was worth whatever you paid for these, even if you don’t see your boyfriend,” Alex says, cradling his hat in his hands.

They wander a little bit longer, making a point to linger near the Yamaha motorhome.

“Hey!” Marc hears. “You!”

He and Alex turn to see an angry man walking their way. Marc shares a look with his brother. 

“You are Marc, no?” the man says, and for a moment Marc wonders if Vale has noticed him. Maybe his fairytale is falling into place.

“Yes!” he says, smiling at the man.

“You can’t be here,” he says, at once crushing Marc’s hopes and dreams. “You cannot be here. You have to leave.”

“But we have-” Alex says, trying to step in. 

“No,” the man says, holding up a hand. “Security is on the way. You need to leave and not come back.”

“But-”

“No!” the man says. 

At that point, security arrives. They escort Marc and Alex from the paddock, and Marc’s hands are shaking by the time they leave. 

He manages to charm security into not cancelling their tickets for the race, just their paddock access, but it’s still a punch to the chest. 

He stews in his hurt and anger all weekend, and watching Vale win the race doesn’t help. He wants to yell at Vale. He wants to fight him and make him feel as terrible as he has made Marc feel. He has no way of doing that. 

The only thing he can think of at this point is to send him a DM. He knows it won’t go to him, and will most likely be deleted by some poor PR person who works for him, but he sends it anyway. He pours out all his anger and frustration and hurt. You didn’t have to kick me out of the paddock, he adds as an afterthought. I was with my brother. We weren’t doing anything other than trying to see you. What you’ve done is cruel. All I wanted was to talk to you, as a fan and a friend.

By the time he sends it he’s worked himself up into crying, and he bullies Alex into snuggling up with him and the sausage dogs to watch a movie. 

They’re almost done with the movie when Marc’s phone lights up with an Instagram notification.

[jovenshires]

hey gang!

i've been thinking, and i think it's about time i take a tiny, teeny lil hiatus. just wanted to let you know i'll be gone for a lil while (hopefully a week+ depending on how it goes). this is NOT because of any of you - in fact i am going to miss you all dearly. just think i need a bit of a mental health reset luvs.

i will have my queue running - i've upped the time and number of posts as well so it will run throughout my normal hours here - and i have content (incorrect tweets, some video edits, gifsets, etc.) lined up until. like may so don't worry about that snkjfk (i won't be gone for that long prommy i just do a lot of content prep). i'll also be watching smosh every day as per usual, and still working on stuff while im gone!! i think this'll be a really great opportunity to get some work done - i have so many fics and passion projects lined up that im really excited about, so hopefully i'll get to finish those in the meantime and i may be back to post them <3 at the very least i'll be back by valentines day for the smoshblr exchange!!

i won't be checking my notifs, the smosh tag, or anything like that. if you want me to see smth in the meantime, hit me with a tag or a dm and i promise i'll see it when i get back. my askbox is still open but i'm afraid i probably won't be answering anything for the time being. if you're an anon who sends me asks - please please please keep sending them to me. truly you have no idea how much i enjoy our silly lil daily chats, they mean the world to me. i will be back to answer them as soon as i feel like im ready <3 and as for dms, i will answer them once i come back, but if you wanna talk to me urgently, i have discord/snapchat/whatsapp/etc where you can find me if you want to hmu for those <3 even if we've never spoken before!! i don't bite and i love friends prommy. i'll def be around for the rest of the day if you want to get my info!

like i said, i'll be around if anyone has any burning questions or wants to chat. i love you all, keep going strong, and be good while i'm gone. in my honor, please follow my golden rules: be kind to one another, make lots of silly goofy content, and, most importantly, do whatever you want forever. love ya! :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bittersweet 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Your startup business catches the eye of a powerful rival.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

It’s baking day. Your kitchen is stolid with the heat of the oven and the treats cooling on the counter. Your apartment has been converted into a pseudo chocolate factory; though you wouldn’t claim Wonka’s glory. You are certain to keep to food-safe standards however and so your morning began with sanitization, another two hours on top of a long day. 

It’s a few weeks out to the next show; a local festival that hosts all sorts of local shops, though the biggest attraction are the musical acts. Even so, you’re hustling as best as you can. You spent a portion of the baking show profit to get a kiosk in the mall for the holiday weekend. It’s a big deal, you expect a crowd and now you have an idea of how much you’ll need to bring. 

You sigh as you tally up what you have so far. You’ll be in the kitchen all week at this rate and you don’t think even then you’ll meet your set quota. You’ll still do well but you can’t help the echo of that man’s words. You’re hitting a wall on your own. 

And you’re running low on red cacao. You frown at the slack canvas bag. That’s another trip to the bulk seller down by the freeway but that’s so far out, it’ll eat at least an hour and a half off your day.  

He’s right. That pompous snakish man is right. You can’t keep up with the demand.  

No, you can. You’ll bake into the night if you have to. It’ll be cooler then, anyhow. You inventory your cupboards as the oven radiate with heat. You have a list. Tomorrow you can get to that but for now, you’ll start packaging the chocolates in the fridge. 

You count out the truffles and fudge squares precisely. Each one in a sleeve or a box. You’ll add all the little details later; a ribbon, a bow, a seal. You yawn at the repetition but aren’t bored by it. Having your own business isn’t exactly dull, if anything it’s tantalizingly stressful. 

Your tablet dings as the baking show you keep on stream quiets for the notification. The woman’s voice returns to full volume as you approach to check the icon in the margin. It’s from your online shop front. Between the physical work, you can’t forget about the healthy tide of orders coming in virtually. 

It adds to the weight on your shoulders. You slump and drag down the notification bar. It’s large order and before you can skim each item, another notification sweeps in. You tap the inquiry so that the message opens.  

The inquiry is labeled with the same order number that just came up. You squint. ‘...requires in-person to order address...’ You don’t do that. It isn’t an option but the customer’s tone comes of insistent even over text. They promise a gratuity and underline that they did pay for the expedited option. 

That’s the first position you’re hiring when you can make the space. A customer service representative because you hate this. You go back to review the full order. It’s a lot; a lot of baking and a lot of money. 

You’ll have to make it work yet there’s this needling voice in the back of your head, slithering and sharp, you can’t keep this up forever. 

🍫

Surely, it’s the wrong address.

You idle in your large SUV, the nearly two-decade old model puttering between the sleek modern cars the fill the spaces outside the luxurious storefront. You gulp as you peer up at the moniker. You recognise the brand and the logo. 

Black Snake. It’s some sort of trick. You should have been suspicious.

The chocolatier isn’t unknown to you beyond your encounter with its owner. While the headquarters are nestled right at the heart of your city, there are locations across the country and even a few international. The local start-up boomed onto the front page and you can’t say it had nothing to do with your own come up. You offer a more affordable option with the same premium taste. 

You suppose he doesn’t like the competition. You wouldn’t either but you put yourself out there against the Black Snake monopoly knowing you would be trudging uphill. You get out and try not to think too much. 

You unlock the hatch and take out the large box stamped with your business name; Sweet Nothings. You approach the front door, trying to see through the tinted windows that form the front wall, and it opens before you can reach it. Shoot, he’s expecting you. 

“Ah, right on time,” Loki greets as he checks his watch. “I see you’ve no branding on your vehicle.” 

You try not to cringe. He has an eye for detail. You bite down on your smile. 

“Hello again,” you try to act like his foreboding hasn’t haunted you for a week, “I have everything in here--” 

“I didn’t see a reselling clause on your terms of service,” he proclaims smugly, “these should be popular.” 

“Ah,” you hesitate as he steps out of the door to hold it open for you, “you’ve paid so I guess I can’t stop you.” 

“Mm, and how is business then? You are quick to respond. Can’t be very hectic, then.” 

You take the jab like a weathered boxer. You don’t flinch, you just keep going. You stride inside and look around. You carry the box to the empty space the counter. 

“As promised, I will transfer a fee for your trouble,” he follows quickly. 

“Thanks, uh, I should--” you face him as he blocks your path. 

“You’ve a pop-up. This coming weekend.” 

The advert is at the top of your online shop. Of course, he would know. His diligence is starting to eke you out. 

“I do,” you confirm, “so I should be off.” 

“Yes, you have much work to do. Tell me, how many ovens do you have going?” 

Your expression falls, “you spent all this money to mock me?” 

“No, I’m simply discussing business. Seeing as I am experienced, I thought I might offer some sage advice,” he flutters his long fingers. 

“I appreciate that, really, but I am running a business, same as you, so if you would like to discuss that, you are more than welcome to make a proper appointment with me. Like a business person.” 

He snickers at the slant in your voice, the tone that insists you’re legitimate like him. 

“I didn’t see that option on the store front,” he counters. 

“You have my card,” you sniff and step around him. “Feel free to let me know if you have any concerns about your order.” 

“Wait--” He calls after but you’re already halfway through the door. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I wasn’t having fun?

I (23F) have been playing dnd with some of my best friends for about five or six years. One of these friends (23M) is our most common DM and I’ve always enjoyed his games, even if he can be kind of brutal and can sometimes play favorites. His tough style, love of gritty/grim dark/dark souls kind of genres, and meticulous plotting are staples of his games and has always been a joke in the group (in his first campaign we wiped the floor with an encounter and then the next session he mercilessly tpk-ed us). “We‘re not here to have fun” has been a running joke for years.

In our current campaign, we were introducing a player’s new character (let’s call them K) during a combat that was rapidly getting more dire. It was getting late and the DM was getting tired so we cut the session short. Before we broke for the night, the DM pulled K into a different voice channel to discuss their introduction for next time. While they discussed, the rest of us (H and Z) started brainstorming how to get out of the current situation alive. We were all at half health or less and a fully fledged vampire had just shown up. We decided to put a joke item we got to use in a way that was pretty goofy but might just work. The DM and K got back and we told the DM that plan for next session. He was clearly exasperated and went off to bed for the night but K loved it and started adding ideas for how their character could help with the plan once they were introduced.

Fast forward to our most recent session and DM is in a pretty foul mood for a few reasons:

1.) We started much later than originally planned because Z and K had things to do that day.

2.) Our vtt didn’t import our items from a shopping episode three or four sessions back so DM decided to just let us pick new ones before the session but Z didn’t see the notification until the session started and decided he could look between turns and decided to get some things that would help us travel but were still very silly.

3.) the vtt also wiped K’s character sheet and they was basically trying to reverse engineer it and was asking the DM about things they’d discussed and agreed on.

4.) He told us if we went through with our silly plan K’s new character wouldn’t be coming to help us with a contingency plan and we’d basically be on our own but it was our ultimately our decision. We booed him because we were all looking forward to the plan but it was all in good fun.

Once everything was mostly sorted, the DM stepped away from his PC for a while (30-45 minutes) and we joked he was mad at us for messing up his plans. When he came back, he sighed and asked if we were actually ready to start now and what we were doing. I said “we’ve chosen to live rather than have fun” and got some laughs from my fellow players but the DM shut off his PC and stormed off according to his girlfriend (also a player). The next day I messaged him apologizing for hurting what I said and for pissing him off and that I appreciate all the work he does for us. He never replied and has been on invisible ever since (I know he’s online because I can see him streaming in other chats). I feel really bad if I upset that much and feel worse since he hasn’t been answering. His girlfriend has gone quiet on me too. Like I said this has been an ongoing joke for years that even the DM has made before but AITA for saying what I did?

What are these acronyms?

[humanbug]

Inky Hearts pt.2

Modern!Ellie is a tattoo artist and you just became her lovely little muse.

a/n: whoaaa part 2!!! this one gets exciting!! i am not sure if ill make a part 3. i was gonna put abby in this but it just didn't feel like the right storyline. this is proofread but also written at like 4am soooo there might be mistakes. comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! my asks are open for requests or just to chat!! i hope you enjoy!!

| NSFW 18+ MDNI |

Songs mentioned: Down the Line by Beach Fossils, Spooky by Dusty Springfield, Left Hand Free by alt-J

warning(s): smoking/weed, y/n is used (only once), SMUT!!!, oral (r!receiving), sex while high (both parties consenting)

“God! C’mon don’t be such a baby and just ask her!” 

“Would you let it go! I’m not gonna do anything. We’re just friends.”, you say for what feels like the millionth time. “For now!”, she retorts. You lean back in your seat laughing as Bailey’s face twists at your stubbornness. Knowing she’s right but being way too stubborn to give her that satisfaction. 

You and her had decided to grab coffee, realizing it had been too long since you had spent time together. She had seen your most recent instagram post and texted you a string of texts including the words, ‘bitch’ ‘cutie’ ‘skank’ and ‘hottie’, which was pretty typical given that you had been friends since high school. 

It had been about three weeks since you got your tattoo and you and Ellie had been texting almost every single day. You had made up the ‘smooth’ excuse of "My ig dm notifs don’t come through :( can we text instead?”, hoping that the small fib worked. Luck was on your side because just like that you had her number and before you knew it you two were choosing to facetime instead of text. Neither of you had realized it, but you were both building up the courage to ask the other out. Although neither of you were successful, typing out the message and deleting them right after. 

You had told Bailey about the hottest tattoo artist you had ever had. How you had definitely been flirting during your appointment and how much Ellie undercharged you, still angry about that part. She immediately began trying to convince you to ask her out but you had said over and over again that you are just friends…for now. 

Putting her elbows on the table, “So anyway stubborn bitch! Did you hear who Sophia started dating!?”. You and her gossip and talk absolute filth about all the people you know, laughing and cringing at your bullying. 

–

“Oh my god! She is so lying! You have to call her out-”, Bailey starts, face quickly morphing into confusion as your cheeks flush and you mumble ‘oh my god!’. Looking down at your drink, trying to become invisible you whisper, “Bailey that’s her!”. 

Being the ever so subtle person she is, she whips her head over her left shoulder, looking back at you with her mouth in a big ‘O’ shape. “She’s SO hot! Oh my god! You absolutely have to ask her out. I’m definitely not taking no for an answer after seeing her in person.”, she exclaims, peering over her shoulder a few more times.

Given that it’s a rather loud coffee shop and you and Bailey are tucked into the corner, you try not to be disappointed that she hadn't seen you as she grabs a tray of four drinks and walks out. 

Twiddling with your rings you chew on your bottom lip, “You know what? Fuck it. I’m gonna ask her to hang out.”, you state, the authority in your voice is not the most convincing but fuckin’ fake it till’ you make it, right? 

–

Your thumbs hover over your keyboard. Taking a deep breath you hit send. Tossing your phone to the foot of your bed as if it’s a bomb and falling back against your pillows, arms covering your face. Closing your eyes, your mind wanders back to your tattoo appointment. The way her hands felt over your plush thighs, the way you had to pull your panties higher so she could access your skin and how, unknowingly to you, she had eyed the way it created a perfect outline of your cunt causing her mouth to water, the way her brows furrowed when she was in deep focus. Starting to imagine the way her strong hands would feel lowering down and-  

Shooting up at the feeling of your phone vibrating your hands dig through the sheets to find it. Sliding it open you pull the notification screen down, not wanting to open the text just yet. 

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for…

‘Damn it! Okay, I have to open it.’

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for me. i am booked up almost everyday butttt maybe you could come by the shop? if you don’t want too that’s totally cool

Biting back a smile at her rambling, excitement bubbles inside you as you respond. Typing out a message and deleting it several times, anxiety making your palms sweaty and heart race.

✿Y/N✿ : Yes! That would be perfect! Just let me know when you have a break! :) 

–

Bopping your head to Down the Line as you drive through the intersection just before the tattoo shop. Parking your car in the lot across the street you pull the mirror down checking over yourself. Grabbing your two bags and water bottle you head across the street to the shop. 

Opening the door and stepping inside you walk over the front desk. The girl with dark hair is there talking with another girl with black hair in a short choppy haircut and bangs. The girl you have never seen before sports several piercings. Walking up hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, the girl with longer dark hair turns to you with a warm smile.

“Hi! How can we help you?”, she asks in a kind voice.

“I’m here for Ellie! I don’t uh- have an appointment but she should be expecting me!”, you say quietly not wanting to sound like a walk-in demanding to see Ellie. Feeling the girl with black eyeing you intensely, your cheeks flush. 

“For sure! She should be at her station, her client just left. You can just head back.”, giving her an appreciative smile, you walk through the curtained work stations, hearing the buzz of guns and low chatter.  

Peaking your head into her station you see her sitting on the rolling chair, sketching something on her iPad. She hasn’t noticed you just yet so you observe her in her element. Her hair is tied half up half down, the short choppy strands falling around her face. You wonder how someone can make black jeans and a loose t-shirt look so good. Clearing your throat and smiling as your eyes meet.

“Hey! Perfect timing! I’ve got like an hour and a half before my next client.”, swiveling around as she speaks. 

Holding up one of the two bags in your arms you take a step forward, “Um- I brought you lunch. I- I figured pasta was a safe option so I brought pesto pasta with sun-dried tomatoes!”

Ellie can feel the appreciation practically running through her veins, not remembering the last time someone made lunch for her. Her lips curve as she runs a hand over the back of her neck. 

“That- You are too sweet. I really wasn’t expecting you to bring me lunch. There’s a table out back, let’s eat out there?”, she says as she gets up, closing her iPad and pocketing her phone. 

Giving her a bright smile you nod your head. Following her out of the shop you admire her physique from behind.

‘Does this girl look good from every angle? Yes. Yes, she does.’

–

“Holy fuck! Did you make this!?”, she exclaims, savoring the pasta. 

“Well- uh- not exactly! It’s from Trader Joe's! But it’s my favorite pasta kind of ever. I’m really glad you like it!”, you giggle as you explain the pasta is unfortunately not homemade.

“Well Joe knows how to make some good fucking pasta.”, she says with a mouthful of noodles. Laughing at the green-eyed goofy girl in front of you as you take a bite of your pasta. 

‘Just ask! Don’t be a baby!’, your belly flips as you work up the courage.

Fiddling with your rings and glancing up, just to see her already looking at you, “So…what are you doing Saturday? My friend Bailey is having a small party at her place and I was uh- I was wondering if you wanted to come? With me, of course- or not of course. Just with me.”, you ramble out.

Giving a cocky smile at your nervousness, she tries her damndest to conceal her own racing heart and sweaty palms, “That sounds perfect. I’d love to go. With you, of course.”, her response taking a teasing tone. 

Giggling at your own embarrassing rambling you bite back a smile, “I will pick you up at five. It’s nothing fancy, just a casual thing. I am planning on bringing weed.”

“Just a casual thing, perfect.”, she hums with a smile.

–

Tying the laces of your docs you rush out of your apartment. Checking your phone and cursing at the time, it was four fifty and Ellie’s place was about fifteen minutes away. Rushing through the halls, your purse clutched in one hand, phone under your chin, and yanking your jacket on. 

–

Pulling up the address that Ellie had sent you, you send a voice memo that you are parked out front. You have Spooky playing low as you drum your fingers on the steering wheel. Glancing around you see Ellie rushing down the steps on the porch. Shamelessly running your hungry eyes over her. She wears a pair of light-wash black jeans, sitting perfectly on her legs, not too loose and not too baggy, a black hoodie, and black converse. 

You can’t help but grin as you realize you match. You had chosen an all black outfit too. Finding your favorite black skirt to show off all of the art on your legs, black tights to compensate for the chilly night air, a snug black cropped shirt that showed off a perfect amount of cleavage and your leather jacket. 

“Well don’t you clean up well!”, you tease as she slides into the car, sharing a smile as she chuckles. As she buckles up you hand her your phone, “Put whatever you want on! Bailey’s is like twenty minutes away.”

Ellie finally takes the chance to glance at you. Feeling desire pool in her belly as she sees what you’re wearing. How your hands maneuver the steering wheel, rings and manicured nails tapping along to Left Hand Free. How your skirt has ridden up your plush thighs sitting dangerously high. How the skirt hugs your soft belly and your top shows enough skin to see the glimpse of a tattoo and how it hugs your tits perfectly. Fucking hell, she know’s she ogeling but can’t find it in her to give a shit. She is torn from her trance when she realizes you're leaning dangerously close. Her freckled cheeks flush and she clears her throat when you reach in the back seat and lean back with your purse in hand. Oh. You arrived at the party, Ellie hadn’t even realized you parked. 

You step out of the car and shimmy your skirt back down and smooth your hair out. Ellie steps out and looks over at you, admiring you even more. Thank god it’s getting dark and you can’t see her beet red face. 

“You ready? We’re a tiny bit late so Bailey is probably gonna chew me out but she’s a sweetheart I promise.”, you assure her as you both walk up to the house. Stepping through the door the house is warm with bodies, liquor, and weed. It is not painfully packed but nonetheless you grasp Ellie’s hand in yours and make your way to the kitchen, saying ‘hi’ to most of the people you pass. 

“You’re late bitch! And because you’re late you owe me a shot!”Bailey's voice fills the kitchen, she clearly started partying a long time ago. Stepping over to her you give her a hug, her bright pink outfit a stark contrast against your black one. 

“Anything you want babe! But first, Bailey, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Bailey, my best friend!”, you exclaim loud enough to be heard through the voices filling the space. 

–

“You’ve been quiet.”, you say as you and Ellie finally escape the kitchen. Finding your way to the room you knew would be a lot more chilled out. 

“Have I?”, she hums, walking behind you practically being your shadow. 

Finding exactly what you were looking for, you plop down onto the couch, toeing your heavy boots off, shifting to face where Ellie sits and draping your legs over hers. 

‘Oh boy, that shot worked quick!’

“Yeah, you have! Is everything okay?”, you ask, tilting your head. 

“Yeah, I’m good! I think I just get a little anxious at parties.”, she says quietly, almost seeming embarrassed. Your bottom lip pokes out and you grab her hand that was resting on your legs, thumb circling her knuckles.

“It’s okay! I get it. If you wanna head out just let me know! No shame, I swear. Or we can get some fresh air! Or just chill here!”, you get lost in your ramble a little, wanting to make sure she knows there’s no pressure for anything. 

Looking at you she chuckles, “You’re cute when you ramble, you know that?”, grinning when you blush and look down to fiddle with her fingers. 

You have the sudden realization you brought weed! 

“You wanna smoke?”, you ask, looking up at her with wide-eyes. 

“Now we’re talking. Yes. Yes, I do.”, she grins.

–

“And- and so- and then- she-”, you are laughing too hard to finish your own story, stomach cramping from how hard you’re laughing. 

Ellie’s head is thrown back in laughter finding your lack of composure funnier than the story you were telling. 

It seemed after every puff of the joint you two shared you would somehow end up closer. Now as the roach has been tossed onto the coffee table in front of you two, you are practically tangled together. 

Finally gaining some composure, you look at her, hands tangled together as you lean against her. 

“Okay! Okay! I’ve got a good one, what was your first time getting high like?”, you ask, face inching closer as the questions go by. 

She lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the painfully embarrassing memory.

“Fuck…okay so me and my friend Dina decided to get high together for the first time-”

“Is that the girl who works the front desk at the shop!”, you interrupt cluelessly high.

She chuckles and gently grasps your chin, tilting your head to look at her with red rimmed eyes, “Yes it is but are you gonna let me finish my story, hm?”, she teases you in a gentle tone but nonetheless it makes you rub your thighs together. Ellie’s eyes flicker down at the motion, quickly darting back up.

Nodding your head with a quiet hum you zip your lips and give her your full attention. She chuckles and releases your chin, her hand going back into your tangle of fingers. 

“So we decided to get high together for the first time and we were idiots who thought’ Let's do an edible for our first time getting high!’, but we ate…the whole fucking thing”, she chuckles at the ‘uh oh’ face you make at her.

“Yeah, so it went about as bad as you can imagine. We had no clue just how fucking strong edibles are especially when you eat the whole god damn brownie! Dina ended up sitting in the tub the whole time because she insisted it was the only place she was safe. On the other hand I thought I was fucking dying but was too nervous to tell my Dad what we had done…so we just waited it out and to this day it felt like I was high for seventy-two hours straight.”, she finishes laughing and shaking her head at how stupid they were.

A laugh spills out of you and you fall into Ellie’s chest in laughter, “That is terrible! You poor poor stupid kids!”. As your laughter fades you find yourself melting into her chest and laying your head against her.

Loving the feeling of your body pressed flush against hers she brings her left arm up and around your body keeping you close to her. Feeling a calm confidence from the weed floating through your body you tilt your head up, faces so close you can feel her breath. Leaning forward you place your lips on hers, sighing when her hand that was around you wraps in your hair and pulls in. Your tongues meet each other is a match for desperation, her hands wandering and resting at the edge of your skirt. Your hips unconsciously shift toward her hand and your lips begin to travel to her jaw and her neck, switching between kisses and love bites that make Ellie shudder and grip your body.

Kissing up to her ear you gently nip at it, whisper, “Take me to the bathroom.”. Smirking when your whispering causes her to shiver.

–

As soon as the door is shut you are back on each other. Kissing in a frenzy. You nip at her bottom lip with a smile. Her lips meet your neck with kisses and bites, pulling moans and whines from you. She grabs your waist and you jump onto the counter behind you. You shiver as her kisses and bites move toward your chest as she leaves even more marks on you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”, she mumbles against your skin, singing praises into your body. Lust floods your lower belly and you can feel the embarrassing puddle forming in your panties. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of her ripping your tights, fingers finding your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck baby. All this for me? Fuck you’re makin’ such a mess already.”, she speaks against your skin. The feeling of her lips on your skin, her words making you shiver, and her fingers teasing you over your panties is too much but not enough. 

“Ellie please.”, you whine out, feeling desperate. She chuckles at your state, feeling proud at how fucked out you look and she hadn’t even taken off your panties. 

“What baby? Tell me what you want.”, she mumbles against your lips, holding eye contact.

“Please touch me!”, you whimper, feeling shameless at the admission. 

“Such a good fucking girl.”, she praises as she pulls your panties aside and teases your sensitive clit with her thumb. Pulling at your tights she mumbles, “Take these off.”

You wiggle your tights off kicking them away and lift your butt as Ellie pulls your panties off, tossing them with your tights. A loud whine comes from you as Ellie drops to her knees and lets her tongue find your swollen clit. Hands needing to hold something you let one find her hair and the other palms your tits through your shirt.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good baby.”, she says in a raspy voice. 

Her hands wrap around your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, as she pulls you to the very edge of the counter giving her even more space to devour you. The band in your lower belly stretches more and more. 

Your eyes are hooded and cloudy as you look down and the band stretches even more when you see Ellie already looking at you. Tears blur your vision as the eye contact seems to spur her even more. Low moans of satisfaction escaping her throat.

“F-fuck! Oh my god-”, you moan and realize how loud you’re getting so you cover your mouth with your hand, only letting quiet whimpers and whines escape you. 

Ellie flattening her tongue and holding the same perfect motion against your clit causes the band to finally snap. Your cunt clenches around nothing and your vision blurs as you throw your head back, thighs shaking and cramping. 

Ellie is relentless with her tongue causing your whole body to tremble from overstimulation. Your hands roughly thread through her hair trying to pull her back as pathetic whines escape you.

“S’too much! Ellie- ple- please! Too sensitive!”, you whine and whimper, practically in tears. 

She pulls back, chuckling at your fucked out state. Breathing heavily you look down as she stands, her lips and chin shiny from your slick. She looks like a fucking god the way she is smirking at you while covered in you. Reaching out you run your thumb over her chin and bring it to your mouth, holding eye contact. 

“Fuckin’ hell baby.”, she mumbles.

Grabbing handfuls of her hoodie you yank her into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your hands fumble down to her jeans, undoing the button when a hand grabs your wrists earning a whine from you.

“Please Els. Wanna touch you.”, you whimper, giving your best puppy eyes. She chuckles, leaning down and kissing your neck, wrists still bound in her hands.

“Lemme take care of you tonight baby. I promise there’ll be time for me later.”, she mumbles, lips ghosting your ear. You pout but give a reluctant nod.

Gently pulling you off the counter and laughing at your dizzy head and wobbly legs. She tosses your torn tights in the trash and pockets your panties with a smirk. You give her wide eyes and stretch your hand out.

“Give those back! This skirt is too short for no panties!”, you say shimmying it down the best you can.

“Good thing we’re heading out then, huh? No one out there gets to see your pretty cunt but me baby don’t worry.”, she says and guides you out hand in hand.

taglist:

@ucannotcompare

[monratarot]

TAROT ACCUSATIONS

Hello, everyone! Moni here! 🧚‍♀️

I'm writing this post in order to give you guys some clearance. Soon I am opening my Chat with your reader area so if I want to be more close to you I guess I should be the fist one that opens up a little bit about myself. There was a situation with a tarot reader this month that created a little chaos on my blog. So I guess that it is time to tell the part of my story.

First I want to thank every follower that had been with me from the beginning. Your help, support, encouraging words and requests(free and payed) had helped me be the tarot reader I am today. As you can see on my blog I'm trying to find new content everyday in order to help you if you had any difficulties on this road(being a tarot reader is a complicated task and overwhelming sometimes) or for those who are at the beginning and want to know more about this art. Apart from that, there are the readings that I'm offering in order to give clearance, support, help, advice in every situation.

Privacy is an important part for me so I have tried as much as possible to respect every limit of my followers. Everything you see here is a work made with love for those who are a part of my community.

Another thing that I want to say is that I'm grateful for your patience because sometimes things happen in life and I'm not able to answer as quick as I can or there are tech difficulties(I don't know if I'm the only one who is having difficulties with Tumblr). Don't want to accuse anyone, just saying that sometimes things can happen and they can't be resolved as quick as we want or need.

Without getting to far from the subject, a couple of days ago I have received an exchange request message. I have accepted as I want to help my niche colleagues and create e great community where everyone can learn from each other(let's be hones, we will never know everything). I'm not going to give name or proof as that person does because that's their privacy and I don't want to do that. Everyone has their road so I'm not here to punish here or something, just want you guys to understand the part of my story. I have received the reading but when I wanted to do theirs I saw that there are some problems.

Firsty, let’s be clear about some things:

1. There was no agreement at the beginning of the exchange about any feedback. NO discussion about that was made when you first approached me. You didn’t ask me for any feedback so I have no idea why you are making such claims.

2. I fell sick, I was in hospital for over 2 weeks and now I'm still recovering. I know it was my fault because I wasn't able to give you an update on my health and I truly apologize for that but I didn't think that in this period of time something bad is going to happen.

3. I didn’t receive any DM/notifications from them ( I don't really know if there was an internet problem, a platform problem or something else but I wasn’t aware that they messaged me)

4. They didn't respect my rules(you have them posted everywhere on my blog so you can find them easily), their attitude was pretty rude and I have demanded from the beginning of the creation of this blog PATIENCE and POLITNESS.

So unfortunately a whole problem appeared those days and everything have escalated, there were people that didn't know me that assumed that I'm using AI and I'm not a real blogger which is a same to talk about someone that you never had an interaction with based on others bad interaction. I know that there is impossible to make everyone happy, I assume that. Yes, it was my fault because I couldn't give an update but from this to being accused that I am a scammer is a long road.

This was my part of the story. I don't want to accuse anyone of anything, I assume the damaged that was created on my blog and I have learned my lesson because as we live we learn.

Thank you everyone for being here, for listening to me, for everyone who have sent me a message to ask if everything is ok, and for everything you have invested in me. I promise that in the future I will try to have a better interaction with you guys and hope that I will still be the one reader that will give you guidance in any problems that you have in your life.

PLEASE REBLOG in order to people who had only seen those persons part to understand the whole problem.

Leave a comment over here if you have any advice when it comes to this situation!

Wish you only the best!🍀🍀🍀

Moni🧚‍♀️

[sailor-aviator]

Sailor-Aviator's Blog Survival Guide

Because I saw another blog do this, and I think it's a good idea now that I'm gaining more followers who may not have heard of me before. So, here's a little guide about me, my works, what you'll find on this blog, and how to navigate!

RESIDENT SURVIVAL MASTER: SAILOR-AVIATOR AKA LIZ

Millenial, 27(going on 28), She/They

THINGS LIZ KNOWS WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT

Pop Culture, Folk Tales, Fairy Tales, Languages, Religion, Cryptids, Space, Tornadoes, Cultures, Vikings, Medieval/Renaissance Studies, Mythology, and more!

IN THIS SURVIVAL GUIDE YOU WILL WILL FIND:

✨ MY COLLECTIONS: My writing

✨ MY TIPS AND TRICKS: Rules for my writing

✨ MY DECREES: My blog rules

✨ UPCOMING EVENTS: What I'm currently working on

✨ CLASSIFICATIONS: What tags I use

✨ MY LORE: More about me

※ My Masterlist

Where I keep all of my writing and moodboards.

✨My FAQ!

✨ I currently write female reader-insert fics as well almost exclusively AUs (Alternate Universes). I try to make my fics as inclusive as possible, but I understand that I will fall short of this at times. The moodboards I make for the heroines of my stories are based off of vibes only, but the reader characters themselves will not have physical attributes save for something like hair length.

✨ I mainly write for Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but I write for other TGM characters as well from time to time. I have also started writing for the Twisters fandom, and have been thinking about venturing into writing for the MCU.

✨ Writing Updates: I do not currently have a posting schedule. This is mainly because my job/life are pretty hectic and I never know when the mood or time to update will strike me.

✨ Taglists: I no longer do taglists. If you would like to be notified of when I post fic updates, drabbles, moodboards, or polls, please head over to my sideblog: @sailoraviator-library and turn on post notifications!

✨ Requests are currently: Open! Feel free to send them in at any time, but please know that it may take me a little while to get to it.

I will write: Smut, Fluff, Angst (within reason), light, soft!dark, dark!, AUs (there's not much I won't do), age difference (both adults), threesome, reverse harem, dubcon, consensual non-consent, Dom/Sub, cockwarming, praise, praise and degradation, breeding, chase, power imbalance, choking, knife play, bondage, edging, overstimulation, A/B/O, and I'm sure there's more. Just ask!

I will NOT write: Real Person Fic (RPF), age regression, pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, race play, underage scenarios, scat play, piss kink, cheating between "main" couple, accidental pregnancy, miscarriage, Taylor Swift inspired fic.

Who I'll write for:

✨TGM Characters: Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Javy "Coyote" Machado, and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

✨ Twisters Characters: Tyler Owens, Boone, and Scott

✨Marvel Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rodgers, Peter Parker

✨Misc. Characters: Soldier Boy, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and more to come!

✨ My blog is 18+ only!

✨ I sometimes write smut and some of my stories contain elements of sexual assault and non-con, so please heed the warnings posted at the top of fics and proceed with caution!

✨ Hate, racism, transphobia, homophobia, and misogyny will not be tolerated. Take your mean anons elsewhere, please and thanks.

✨ While I thirst over characters and celebrities and I'm happy to receive positive asks about them, I'm not a gossip blog.

✨ This is my safe space. I do my best to be kind, but don't take advantage of it.

✨ SUPPORT WRITERS AND THEIR HARD WORK THAT YOU ENJOY FOR FREE. If you struggle with what to say when commenting/reblogging, check out this post for ideas/help.

About My Inbox and DMs

✨ Please read my FAQ!

✨ When it comes to ask games and chatting (whether about my fics or in general) I'm pretty quick to respond. However, I'm a little slower when it comes to requests, so please keep that in mind when sending in asks.

✨ Inbox is open for positivity, thirsting, fic and writer asks, personal shares (within reason), and more! I will happily accept gifs, photos, and videos as they make my day.

✨ Please ask before trauma dumping. While I don't get triggered easily, asking beforehand is appreciated. Should I agree, please add a trigger warning when you send the next ask.

✨ If you ask for my advice, please keep in mind that my word is not law and I may not have the answer you're looking for.

WHAT I'M WORKING ON AT THE CURRENT MOMENT

✨ TOP GUN FICS: Fool's Fare, Foul is Fair, By Its Cover, and Road to Perdition

✨ TWISTERS FICS: We Abide and an unnamed Anne of Green Gables!AU that has yet to be released

ABOUT MY TAGS

✨ Liz's personal tag - Posts where I talk about things going on in my life. Could be light-hearted, could be darker. Both will fall under this tag.

✨ Liz writes - Used typically when I'm posting a sneak peek or a drabble of some kind.

✨ Liz speaks - Posts where I say something that’s not long, just a little blurb or something.

✨ Liz rants - Used when I'm complaining about something or other.

✨ Liz rambles - Posts where I'm on a tangent of some kind. Usually complaining about something or just talking about a topic and the post got long.

✨ Liz creates - Posts pertaining to my art projects!

✨ Long post - My answer/rant/post got long.

✨ Poll - Used on posts where I've created a poll.

✨ Hey Nonny Nonny - Anonymous asks that have been answered.

✨ Answered - Answered asks.

✨ Beloved Mutuals - Posts pertaining to my mutuals.

✨ For the Followers - Posts I make that are exclusively for my followers to participate in.

✨ Fic rec - A fic I've reblogged that I recommend.

✨ Hey Hangman. Queue look...good. - My tag for when I've queued things.

And last but not least on this long ass poll, some info about me!

Hi, my name is Liz. I'm 27 years old, and I blow the candles out on September 3rd of every year. I graduated with a Bachelor's of Art in Linguistics and I had two minors: One in German and the other in Medieval and Renaissance Studies. Because I unfortunately can't afford to pursue more education, I joined the work force upon graduation! During school, I studied abroad twice: Once for a year in Germany and the second time was for a month in Ireland!

I've always loved stories, ever since I was a little girl and my dad would read the original Grimms fairytales to me. I've been telling stories ever since I could remember, but I didn't start writing them down until I was around nine years old.

My dream has always been to be an author, but I only recently started writing fanfiction in September 2023! A lot of my fics are story ideas I've had over the years that I've wanted to tell, but I always like to see how they'll do before I commit to them, so don't be shy about telling me what you think! I live for feedback of any kind, and likes just simply won't cut it for me. I want to know your thoughts! I promise you will never annoy me with them.

When I'm not writing, you can usually find me binge watching TV shows and/or movies while I cross-stitch, embroider, play video games, or paint! I also love painting pottery and reading in my spare time. If you want to know more details, feel free to check out my About Me page on my Navigation post!

Thanks for sticking around this long!

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation: Cat-FISHER [19]

A/N: in honor of 50k on Wattpad, LET'S GET ITTTTTT!!!!

----------------

VIOLETVIOLENCE: it's really pathetic that i have to pull you aside like a child to tell you to tone down your shit.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: grow up.

SALLYFʌCɜ: grow up? look who's talking. might i remind you of a verbatim quote by yours truly... "lint licking, cunt flap, cum infested puss bubble of a fucklet"

VIOLETVIOLENCE: i give back what i receive. you can dish but you can't take?

SALLYFʌCɜ: i can take twice as much as i dish.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: i'm so sure that you can. fuck off, sal. quit being an asshat.

SALLYFʌCɜ: so now it's asshat? what happened to llcfcipbf? you're losing your creativity. do better, your fall from grace is disappointing even to me

VIOLETVIOLENCE: fuck you.

SALLYFʌCɜ: i'm sure you want to

He's real fucking cheeky. Excited, if you will. What's gotten into him?

Three days ago, while purposefully and pleasurably butchering Sal's character in Dead By Daylight, if anyone would have told me that the bane of my miserable existence and I would have a personal chat box open— I'd have laughed in your face. I'd have gone full Edgar Allan Poe. You would be in a Speed Bump Grave™️. I'd hear your phantom heart beat under my floor boards.

And now, here I am, simultaneously working through the worst shift of the week and having to bitch at Sally Face Fisher via discord DM's.

I don't know what I've done. Maybe it's just my existence, I'm not sure, but he's targeting me. It's horrifically bad. Every message from him, even if he's in the middle of conversing with one of the other of The Faces, has something about me included. And it is always shitty.

I'm not scared of him, how could I ever be? So I opted (more like I was seconds away from punching his scrotum through my phone screen) to reach out to him personally and nicely ask him to stop... okay so that's obviously a lie but I had to threaten and insult him back. It was the only way I'd feel better.

But now I'm stuck with this loaded last message from him and I have no idea how to continue. Because it's a repeat. A repeat of that fated Discord call that threw my entire existence askew for a week. Or four. Maybe I'm still askew.

His necklace isn't under a shoe in the farthest corner of my room for no reason, after all.

Today was supposed to be simple. Not easy because working at the diner is never easy, but simple. Simple fucking worked. And now I have this conversation with Sally hanging over my head when I was actually looking forward to what's meant to come after I finish my shift.

I brought my mask with me today. My plan is to immediately go back to that mask store after my shift and convince the sweet woman who helped me to sign her work, give me her name, a business card— literally anything so I can tell the world who gave me my start. But now I'm anxious enough to plead not guilty by reason of insanity due to not-so negligent or accidental arson. And on top of that, I'm starting to map out an intricately laid out plan for Sal's Speed Bump Grave™️. Today's ordeals have taken my mind by storm and I'm about to bring everyone down with me in this descent toward madness.

I'm just angry. And bothered. And low key wanting to message Sal back with, "Yea, I am. What are you gonna do about it?" But I must stay strong. I must soldier on. I know the repercussions, I've tasted them for myself— felt them burn my lungs to a crisp. I went through what felt like decades of chain smoking in just mere seconds.

And it's all because of—

A chime rings. A chime that came from my phone. It echoes through the diner's break room, startling me so hard that I nearly leap out of my chair. It's like waking up from a dream where you suddenly start falling.

What was that? What just popped up in my notifications?

Unknown: are you a poe fan, by chance?

My kingdom. My entire kingdom for a chance to start making a Speed Bump Grave™️. For myself? For Sal? For the inexplicable human race? I don't even know anymore.

I thought he'd given up on Lexi. So what the hell is this? Why now? Why today? Why right after he finished— flirting? Baiting?— me.

My mind goes blank. Maybe... maybe he's onto me. Maybe he knows. That I'm Lexi. And now he's finally decided to enact his revenge. On today of all days, when I feel so sick with anxiety and paranoia that I could throw up every square inch of my bowels. My feminine rage is so ragey that I wouldn't be shocked if I sprouted a pair of testicles just so I'd have an excuse for whatever bruised masculinity I'm experiencing right now. Sal must be projecting on me all the way from Nockfell.

Never in my entire life have I felt so hopeless, so cornered. Every time I feel this way, I think it can't possibly get any worse.

And yet.

Me: umm, can't say that i am! don't know much about him.. but how are you, sally!

I don't know what's possessed me. In a normal world, I would have blocked him by now. Or better yet, if I wasn't so disgustingly deplorable and had a damn backbone, I'd have texted him a picture of myself and said "Haha, gotcha bitch!"

The sad truth in this way-too-real life scenario is that I don't have a backbone. And I'm too far gone to go back. I can't revert. There's a part of me that still holds onto my first live interaction with Sal. I just can't get the memory of him— smooth, gentle, kind, and likable— out of my head. No matter how hard I try.

One thing I can be proud of is the amount of petty packed into the fact that I never saved his number in my phone.

Unknown: good. perfect, actually. i brought some poe with me today, a story i think you might like

Some kind of doom-ish feeling washes over me. Like a storm cloud forming above my head. Poison seeping into my pores, infesting my blood. I don't like the way he said that. I don't like it at all. It feels a lot like the time some kid threw up all over me in second grade.

I'll never forget the sickening chill that spread through my body as soon as I realized what happened to me in the middle of educational centers in Nockfell Elementary. This situation feels threateningly similar.

Me: oh cool! so i guess you'll be having a chill reading day? wish it was me :,)

Unknown: not quite. but hey, are you working today?

That storm morphs into a hurricane. And there's twin tornadoes in the background, growing closer and closer to make a torrid, lethal combination. I have to take this in stride. Be smart, y/n. Whatever hell may come, handle it accordingly and do not make mistakes.

Me: ah, no! out of town to visit family :) really, crappy, awkward family get together... yikes...

He'll totally buy that right? I didn't overdo it. It was perfect. Overdoing it would have been an entire paragraph about how much I hate my mom. This is good, this is fine. I'm totally not breaking out into a cold sweat with clammy palms to match.

Oh, God. What if he sent someone to spy on Lexi? What if he hired some murderer off the dark web to take care of me and clean up the mess? I wouldn't put it past him. And this scenario isn't even worst case!

Worst case... I don't even want to think about it. I can't.

Unknown: damn, lex... on the day that i'm finally back in la and you're out of town? :(

Oh, thank God I'm a paranoid chicken shit.

Then again, fuck the fuck off. It's worst case scenario, the thing that I didn't even want to think about. The thing I wouldn't allow to cross my mind.

What do I do. What do I do? I leave work— that's the smartest decision. Naturally, this is the place he once went to and, out of boyish fantasies, he'll probably come back here with some expectation that Lexi will miraculously pop up despite her being in like... Iceland or something, whatever it is I manage to come up with in my next text to him. Which—

Unknown: i'm at the diner rn. was hoping we'd get to hang out this time. when do you get home?

Oh, no.

It's a fucking disaster on top of twenty other disasters. This is what a pregnancy scare must feel like. This must be the equivalent to walking into a room full of snotty, sick toddlers. This is dropping an uncut birthday cake.

I think I'm gonna puke.

I look up from my phone and take in the empty break room surrounding me. The off-white, paint-chipping walls are closing in. I have no escape— this is prison. Trapped in my mind's clawed vices with no way out. Except, my mind's fears have transcended into reality. My worst fear has come true and I had no time to prepare for it. The time is nigh. Ruin is, unfortunately, now.

Think, y/n. It's not so bad. I can just leave through the back door and tell my boss I'm sick again. The door is literally to my left.

But to get back to my apartment, I have to cross in front of the diner that's full of windows. Sal is here, meaning he's paying attention to everything in hopes of finding me... even though I told him I'm not here.I just know he's that kind of romantic, if he even qualifies as such.

He'd spot me in a heartbeat and that can't happen because maybe Vi's mask concealed Lexi who was hidden beneath, but he's about damn near fucked Vi. He knows her body better than she does herself— than I do. Fuck, I have so many different personas I can't even remember that they're all me.

Clusterfuck. That's what this is. A massive clusterfuck, all of my doing.

I'm going to have to bite the bullet. That's my only option. And by bite the bullet, I'm going to fight tooth and nail to keep this bit going. I should just admit the truth, but I'm not humble enough for that, apparently.

My chest begins to ache. It's a slow-to-develop pain that only catches my attention when it hurts a little too much. And then the shallow, short breaths follow. And then the phantom feeling of something lodged in my throat, blocking my airways and filling me with dread.

This is a panic attack, one that is long overdue. One that still can't breach the surface quite yet. I need to make sure I'm home free first— I can weep and be dismayed later. Because the harsh truth is, yes this fucking sucks, but it's not going to kill me. It's just hard for me and my body to truly get a grasp on that.

I swallow down the anxiety that's billowing in my body like linens ominously drying outside a house in the middle of nowhere. I take a couple deep breaths, calming the doubt and fear raging within. My limbs shake a little less, my breathing is better controlled, and my chest doesn't hurt half as much. The pain is still there, but this is bearable. I can do this.

I rifle through my cubby which doesn't give me much to work with. I don't have a change of clothes. I have nothing to hide me, not even a hoodie.

"You... good, y/n?"

I whirl around, hope scraping at the insides of my cranium. Fuck yes. Best lobotomy ever.

I could really cry right now because this is a clear sign that I'm not as alone as I think. Even if it feels like I am, even if my dear coworker Ophelia can't really help me out all that much, she can definitely help me in some way.

I don't have to girl boss everything on my own.

"Lia," I start with, breathless as I practically teleport over to her with the quickness of my panicked steps. "Do you have something I can change into? I can't explain right now but... I would really appreciate your help."

Her big doe eyes take me in curiously, one of her perfectly arched eyebrows raised in question. She bats her long lashes, seemingly processing what I've asked of her before giving me an answer.

"Um, I was planning on going out after my shift tonight? Would a dress work?" She grimaces a bit, probably worried that she won't be able to help me out because Ophelia is just like that.

"That would work fine!" I say excitedly, but think better of it, my hopes crumbling a bit. "But I don't want to take your outfit for the night. I can probably come up with something else."

Lia rolls her eyes lightheartedly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I follow the action, noting her long and sharp blood red nails. I gulp, looking back into her pretty ebony eyes. "Y/n, take what you need. You know Mike can drive me back home to get another outfit! We don't live too far away, and we don't need to be in Anaheim until 9 anyway. Do what you need to do-- you know I'm cheering for you, girl."

I grab onto her hand and hold back the intense admiration infecting my soul. I'm giving Ophelia the most visceral care bear stare I can possibly muster up and she notices, giving me a cute little upside down smile.

"You are an angel," I whisper, "And your future husband is too. Power couple of the heavens, really."

Lia giggles and bends her head down, forcing her pin straight black hair to fall into her face, thus accentuating the really eye-catching red money pieces that match her red nails. I aspire to be this woman. "It's not that serious, Ducks," she says, using my dads nickname for me that she overheard a couple months ago. She thought it was precious, so it stuck. "Let's go get you changed, 'kay?"

Change, I do. But I see where she was concerned about me wearing it too. It's for clubbing, cock-tailing, socializing for sure, but... I can make it work. I've got this. It'll be fine. Thank God I am an avid Doc Martens-wearer. Doc's go with absolutely anything.

Lia has taste too, it's a short, little red dress with spaghetti straps that flares out at the ends. It shows a lot of leg, but not much of anything else. I can't imagine how amazing she must look in this.

"You're super sure that you're okay wearing this?" Lia asks, looking over me. "It looks great on you, I'm inclined to tell you to keep it, honestly."

I scrunch up my face. "No, I'm giving it back to you tomorrow," I laugh gently, using my phone camera to try and get an idea of how I look. I can't see much, which is kind of a blessing because I might hate it and be too afraid to brave LA if I end up not liking it.

"I won't argue with you," Lia sighs, patting my back in a reassuring way. "So do you want to talk about what's going on?"

"Um," I murmur, a shiver running down my spine. I almost forgot why I'm having to do this. It feels like hours have passed, but it's only been five minutes at most. "It's very hard to explain, but I might have to get you or Mike involved, whoever's hosting today." I can't help but grimace as the words leave me, but it's the unfortunate truth that I'll have to talk to one or both of them. I'm ever so slowly hashing out a plan in my head.

Sal is undoubtedly going to ask about Lexi, and what the hell am I supposed to do whenever someone goes, "Lexi? No Lexi has ever worked here." So I have to bite the bullet, again, and stick around to at least inform Mike or Lia about that part of my major, gargantuan fuck up. That also means there's a good chance that Sal will see me, but he'll likely ignore my presence, and then I can slip away quickly.

"Mike is up front and hosting today," Lia says, frowning at me. She's so pretty, like if Marilyn Monroe was alternative. Goth mommy and whatever. No shame on my part.

The chef's booming voice carries into the break room, Lia's name floating along with it. She winces at the sound, flinching in surprise. She gives me a pitiful look, tilting her head almost as if to apologize for having to do her job. Poor little love, she is.

"Will you be able to talk with Mike?" She asks me, heading for the door.

I nod hesitantly. "Yea, I'll get to him. Thank you so much for all your help, Lia. I really appreciate you." I send her my most genuine smile, one that she returns.

"Anytime, y/n! You look beautiful, by the way. Go knock 'em dead, literally or figuratively!"

And she's gone, but she hyped me up in the gentlest way possible. Bless her dark, lovable heart.

I take a breath-- a deep, fortifying, 'ohfuckohfuck' breath that does nothing to calm my soul, but I try to trick myself into believing that it worked... at least somewhat. Then I move over to my work cubby (because we're all still in primary school according to my boss) and grab my old backpack that I bring every day. It's raunchy at best and holding on by a thread. I kept it from my high school days. It's a plain black Jansport with coffee stains on the bottom and questionable white splats that are front and center for everyone to see. I'm pretty sure it's just crusty white paint that I never bothered to peel off, but I won't correct anyone if they guess something else. What's the fun in that, right?

I open the zippers and dig in, working past a random beanie from winter, pads and tampons, and a makeup bag. All the way at the bottom, buried under my other things for protection, is my mask. I put it on then look down at myself one last time.

The flashy red of the dress I'm wearing does not match the deep violet of my mask but not everything can go right, so I'll take my little loss. Things could be worse-- oh wait, they are. Sal Fisher is outside this room. Whoops, forgot things were already devastatingly bad.

I run my fingers over the forehead of my mask, feeling that ache creep into my chest again. I wish things weren't going this way. I wish I was brave enough to go outside and just keep working. Because I'm undoubtedly going to lose my job after today. I'm backing myself into a corner, even risking my finances because of this guy that I'm too scared to face as my real self. I've reached peak pathetic.

My dad must be disappointed to have such an incompetent daughter. No wonder my mother and I don't speak anymore.

I swallow past the uncertainty, the guilt, and the unadulterated fear gnawing at my soul. Then I follow through with my plan by throwing my backpack onto my shoulder and pushing the back door open despite knowing that this is not worth it. It's not worth it at all.

I circle around the outside of the diner, heart rumbling like an earthquake as the putrid scent of garbage wafts into my nose from the dumpster I'm currently passing in front of. The sounds of cars honking, people laughing and chatting idly.

Los Angeles is the people's place. It hosts all necessary components of life, some more than others. Socialization, food. It's a dopamine powerhouse. But when it's me, when I've been living here for over a year and seeing the same things every single day, it's stripped me of all my feel-good chemicals. Especially right now when LA is only bringing me problems and trouble (Sal Fisher).

This doesn't feel real. I can't believe I'm doing this to myself. I can't quite wrap the fact around my head, that I'm about to be in Sal's general vicinity yet again. I thought I had time.

I turn the corner, coming out onto the sidewalk in front of the diner. I don't stop in my stride, eyeing my apartment building that isn't very far from me. A five minute walk. I'm almost home. Almost free. I just have to get inside the diner, unfortunately inform Mike of the tea, and hopefully dodge Sal. So long as I keep my eyes on the host table, I may not even have to see him. I might just be psyching myself out. Everything's going to be just fine!

My heart is in my throat, my limbs jittering nervously as I push the glass door open and look forward, noting the short line of people waiting for seats. Sal isn't one of them, so I assume he's been seated already.

I walk past the people in line, getting a few looks from them. That'd be the mask's fault.

Mike's looking down at his seating chart on the host table, most likely mapping out where someone could go whenever I stop in front of him, placing a hand on the table to discreetly get his attention.

He looks startled for a moment before tilting his head up, brows scrunched together as if to say 'The audacity!' but then he sees me and his eyes widen a bit. And then I'm not sure what his next expression says.

"What the--" he chokes out, "Shit! It's you? Hold on-- wait-- mind-fuck--"

I lift a finger to my lips, eyes wide as I hope he takes the note to shut up. Adrenaline is starting to spike in my veins and if he draws anymore attention to us, especially since my mask is already drawing enough, I'm going to piss myself right here. And sue him for public embarrassment, or whatever that thing is. Public defecation? No, that's public defamation... anyway.

Michael's mouth snaps closed, but he keeps watching me. I watch him. We just watch each other as I forget absolutely everything I had planned.

I swallow, blinking at my friend and coworker. "Mike," I say quietly. He flinches at the sound of his name. "I need you to do something for me and I am sincerely sorry about this but..."

"Yea, Yea, y/n-- um, what should I call you...?" He cuts himself off viciously, slapping a hand over his mouth. At least he cares.

I lean my forearms across the table, settling my weight against the front to relax myself at least a little bit. I'm so tense. I feel eyes on me. I need to get out of here.

"Don't call me that," I say lightheartedly, puffing out a breath. "Just call me Vi. For now." I lick my dry lips. Mike of all people finding out about my identity as VioletViolence is the very least of my worries. "There's a guy in here. He has blue hair, can't miss him. I'm sure you already know who he is. He's looking for a girl named Lexi and he'll probably ask his waiter about her. Just say that Lexi isn't here today, you don't have to answer anything else about her."

"I'm guessing... you're Lexi?" He winces, leaning forward a bit.

"Wow," I say sarcastically. "How did you figure that out?" I send him a little smile then focus on the task at hand yet again. "Anyway, I need you to be his waiter. Please. I'll take your entire shift on Friday. I will do anything." I tilt my head down, peering up at him through my lashes in an attempt to portray how badly I need this.

Mike's brows bunch together again and he mutters, "Yea, of course. Whatever you need. But it's-- he came in with the rest of The Faces. Do you want me to... entertain them too? Do they know about Lexi?"

The world stops turning. Everything pauses, no one's moving anymore and I feel like I'm going to vomit with fear, burst with excitement, and pass out right here from exhaustion. The plan I had is ruined, and I couldn't be more equally devastated and exhilarated about it. Ash is here. Larry's here, Todd too. What the hell is going on?

I blink, the action bringing me back to the present.

"Hey, is that Lia's dress--"

"The Faces are here?" I cut him off, holding a hand out in pause, trying to drill this information into my head. Trying to make it real so I can come up with a new plan.

Michael watches me like I'm stupid, a rueful expression on his boyish face. "Yes. I already said that they're here. Why are you wearing my girlfriend's dress?"

"Because we're fucking on the side and she came all over my work outfit." I watch as he makes his little offended face, and my tongue prods at my cheek as instant regret slaps me in the face. He's trying to help me, I shouldn't be giving him this attitude. "Sorry," I admit. "You know that's not true. I'm just-- I'm on edge."

"That's okay," he says hesitantly. "You know I'm going to get you back for that, anyway."

I pinch my lips together, accepting yet another minor defeat. "Fair." I shrug. "I was going to go back home and leave you to the wolves but... I'd rather risk myself. Ash is my best friend. You won't have to handle them alone now, so yay!" I give him a cheerful grin that I'm really not feeling. I even throw in jazz hands.

Michael runs his tongue over the surface of his teeth, clearly not looking forward to the fiasco I've dragged him into. "Alright," he settles on, sighing as he looks down at his feet while grabbing another menu. "Let's see how you manage to back yourself further into whatever shitty corner you've created. I'm eager."

"I'm sure," I grind out, knocking down all the fear that overtook me on my way here and replacing it with impenetrable, desperate yearning to find my friends. I finally cast my gaze around the diner, quickly zeroing in on the one head of blue hair in this entire building. They're seated at a booth all the way at the back of the restaurant and next to the bar, the one place that's away from most prying eyes. A request of theirs, I'm sure.

But my next question, now that I know everyone's here, what the hell are The Faces doing in Los Angeles? And why wasn't I told?

Ash didn't say a word to me. Do they not want me around? Maybe they don't like me as much as I thought they did. Maybe Ash would rather hang around with other friends than me. And that would make sense because we never see each other, besides Vegas, of course. But just thinking about it makes pain erupt throughout my entire body, a pang in my heart. Especially while watching the back of Ash's head tip down while Larry laughs in front of her. Sal and Larry, I can see them, but Todd and Ash are facing away from me.

Another deep breath.

"I'm going to head over there," I tell Michael, looking over to him again. He's watching me closely, his expression of pity mimicking Lia's from earlier. The sight makes me a little sick.

"Alright," he says gently. "I'm going to be there to take orders soon. I hope everything goes well. Don't be nervous."

I huff out a humorless laugh. "Are you and Ophelia psychic or something? Or is my face just that readable?"

He shrugs, grinning slightly. "I can't see your face, so I guess we're psychic. I'll be in your dreams tonight."

That makes me laugh. It wasn't forced or fake, it was genuine and I need that right now. I think Mike knows that too.

I start taking quick steps over to where The Faces are, nerves slapping at my insides to make me turn around and forget that I ever saw them. I'm attacking myself with my own mind, and my mind is attacking my body in turn. Mental illness is crazy, right? Death by anxiety and whatnot.

But, you know, I'm already here. My job is in purgatory, I'm five steps away from them and Larry has noticed my movement, his head twisting toward me to see who's growing near.

Poor Larry. When he sees me walking toward them, he shakes his head and rubs his eyes like he doesn't believe what he's seeing. He looks at me again, and that's when his eyes start to widen, when his jaw drops. And he doesn't say word, that open mouth just turns into the brightest smile I think I've ever seen.

Seeing his excitement makes my insides flutter about and I feel a little better about actually going over to them. Imagine I get there and they shoo me away? But I can tell that Larry won't. That look on his face screams barely held back hugs.

I gulp, trying to ignore my major cotton mouth. I need water. Or tequila. Something.

I also don't give my brain even a second to psych myself out. When I reach the table, I simply plop myself down beside Ash and act like it's a normal, every day thing for me to do.

All heads turn to me (Larry's never turned away from me to begin with) and then I hear a quiet, uttered, "Fuck" followed by incessant, eardrum bursting squealing in my ear.

Arms. A lot of arms. A ton of squeezing. Lots of kisses all over my mask and face. And all the love makes me think that my sweet Ash had a good reason for not informing me of her visit.

I struggle, but I throw my arms around Ash too, squeezing every little inch of her that I can get. Her sweet, coconut and strawberry scent overwhelms me and I feel so at peace. So calm. Home. Back in Nockfell. Comfortable.

Her hair is in my face and I know she's crying because my bare shoulders are wet, thanks spaghetti strap dress. I don't care though because I'm seeing Ash again much sooner than I imagined I would. I thought it would take us years to have some time together like we did in Las Vegas. And Ash is so emotional, I feel like she's being ripped apart by the sight of me alone-- that's both adrenaline-inducing and terrifying.

This is a nightmare, but a dream come true at the same time. I'm so glad that I was paranoid enough to force myself to tell Mike about the Lexi situation. Things couldn't be any better.

"Ash, fucking let go, man. It's my turn." Larry's voice is right next to me, and then another pair of hands that envelop my waist whole. I'm then yanked out of my best friends arms and spun around to face Larry who hugs me so tight that I have to stand on my tiptoes.

I shut my eyes, grinning as I reach my arms up his back, hugging him the best way I can as he nuzzles his face against my mask. The smell of cigarette smoke and pine trees lingers on his clothes, yet again overwhelming me with familiarity. The smoke is a more recent addition, but he's always had a unique scent to him that's always reminded me of Christmas in a way.

The scruff on his cheeks scratches against my jaw, his skin is warm, his grip tight. I really miss home... and LA is not home. Home is back with all of my friends. I don't want to stay here anymore. I don't want to be where they aren't.

Larry takes a deep breath into my shoulder, likely bathing in my comfort just like I did with him. Then he backs up, holding me at arms length and I look up with tears welling in my eyes no matter how much I wish they weren't there. I hate crying, especially in front of other people, but I'm just so happy. It's like the anxiety I felt while walking over here never existed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Vi!?" Larry exclaims, dragging his hands up my arms to cup my face in his large palms. "I thought you lived in Connecticut?"

I place my hand on top of his, a spark of what I thought was fantastical anxiety rushing through me at the instant fuck up I've just made. Again. Crap. I forgot that Ash told them I live in Connecticut...

"Uh," Ash voices beside us, her tone taking the form of the smartest kid in class who's about to correct a mistake. Todd-coded. "I said she's from Connecticut, not that she still lives there." Good save, Ash. "Word choice is important, Lar! Pay attention!"

Larry's eyes swing between Ash and I before settling on me, stars dancing in his irises. "Wait, so do you live in LA, then?"

I can't help the excited little grin that's slowly climbing onto my face. It's Larry's turn to squeal as he suddenly realizes.

I look back over to Ash, catching Sal's gaze momentarily before I look over at Todd to wave. He waves back at me, a soft and pleased smile on his thin lips.

"So," I say, letting go of Larry whenever he backs away from me. I sit beside Ash again, leaning against her side as she throws an arm around my shoulders. "Why are you guys here?"

Ash hisses, frowning suddenly. I frown back, wary of her reaction. "Crap!" she exclaims, rolling her eyes. "Well, I was going to surprise you and the guys. But I guess you ended up surprising us instead..."

"Oh, so it's not just y/n that we're visiting while we're here? You knew Vi would be here too?" Todd asks, chewing on his bottom lip contemplatively.

Another spark of nervousness. They're here for... fuck, all three sides of me are expected in this situation. This... maybe was not really worth it. I'm erasing all the sides of my corner. Everything's starting to get really small and very tight.

Ash side-eyes me, a discreet little look before she answers Todd. "Yea, but I'm not quite sure where she is in LA. I'm going to have to call her later to get some updates on her whereabouts."

"I could just call her now. I'm super excited to see her, I'm sure she'd love to meet Vi too-- oh, and to tell her why we're here!" Larry says, excitement making him shimmy around in his seat as he pulls out his phone.

My body reacts instantly, tensing up like a cat in shock. Ash jumps too, nearly leaping over the table to stop Larry. "No! She's working!" She yells. It's so loud that you'd think she's trying to flip Larry's phone away from him with sound waves alone. True Stranger Things style.

"Oh...kay..." Larry trails off, pulling his phone closer to him so that Ash can't reach. "It's not that serious. I'll call her later, then. What's your deal?"

I swallow. Her reaction was really too much, but at least she's trying to cover for me. I would've sat there and let Larry call while my phone went off in my pocket.

Ash clears her throat, sitting back now that she threw the scenario into the trash. It was rocky, but her deflection was successful. "I know, just don't bother my girl while she's making money," she says matter-of-factly, holding her head high.

I note the way Sal shakes his head across the table. I haven't acknowledged his presence, nor has he acknowledged mine. It's awkward for the most part, but I think that awkwardness is only stemming from me. He seems to be perfectly in control with his short sleeved, black Iron Maiden shirt that shows off his tatted arms. I guess the LA summer heat was too much for him to wear a hoodie for once.

His electric eyes meet mine, no emotion in the endless depths of his irises. Like he couldn't care less that I'm here, which sounds a lot like him. And still, I fidget in my seat under his gaze. Can't help myself.

The edges of his dagger tattoo peek out from behind his hair, the shape of his Adam's apple clear due to the sun shining in through the window, casting shadows in all the right places. Necklaces are around his neck, some kind of silver chain and and old, really intricate cross necklace hanging right below it. And then his hand comes into view, the one that folded into a fist as a result of my touch just weeks ago in this exact restaurant.

There's something different though as he moves to grab onto the drink in front of him, dragging it closer.

The bottom of his prosthetic lifts as he sips from his straw, but that's when I notice what's different. It's a new tattoo-- Saniderm wrapped around his hand. It looks like... a skeleton hand tattooed onto his own. It's pretty sick and I'm so tired of him having great taste in art. Damn. Now I have a terrible excuse to stare at him some more when I shouldn't look anywhere near him at all.

On the other hand, have I ever mentioned how much of a blessing Michael is?

"Hi, everyone," his cheerful voice effectively distracts me from ogling Sal. I look over to my friend, noting his pink cheeks. Huh. "I'll be taking over as your waiter tonight. Your waitress had to leave," he glances at me as if to tell me that I made a good call by stepping out when I did. That's exactly the moment I realize that we're sitting in my section of the diner. Talk about a close call.

Okay, I should get the hard part over for him right? To thank him. I've got this. "Oh, hey, Mike!" I say, "Long time no see."

Poor Mike looks at me like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey... Vi..." he says quietly. Oh, Michael, please don't crap out on me now... I'm going to have to buy this man a cake for carrying me like this.

I smile at him awkwardly, trying to bypass this horrible excuse of an excuse that he and I are about to do horrible improv for. "So, how's Lexi?" I don't dare look a Sal whenever I say the name, but I do feel a shift in the energy at the table. "It's been weeks since I last saw you guys."

"Lexi doesn't work here anymore," Michael spits out nervously, sweat beginning to build on his forehead. Oh no, don't fucking fumble the bag, Mike!

I give him a look. One that has so many emotions and so many questions, but I just force out a simple, "What?" because what else do I say to that? Things are already beginning to go terribly. But it's okay. I'm a pathological liar at this point, and a catfisher? Maybe? Ha... Cat-FISHER.

I'm going to have a panic attack.

Michael pinches his lips together, red-faced as he glances at Sal. I turn my gaze to Sal too, noticing the way he's eyeing Mike like a hawk.

"Lexi is my girlfriend and she doesn't work here anymore." Michael says, his tone brave and assertive, but his facial expression says an entirely different thing.

Great heavens. Okay, so he's radically screwing everything up but that's okay— I'm a flexible person. He's... doing his best. I can work with this. I hope.

I have this image of him and I duking it out in my head. I have him by the collar, shaking him around like a ragdoll while I scream in his face that he's fucking up the plan. And in my mind he's just taking it because he's playing pure sub right now. I'm not even this submissive-- Michael is straight up breaking the BDSM spectrum.

I shove down my nerves and tilt my head at him. "Okay," I start with, slowly, feeling out what little room I have to work with. "I already knew she was your girlfriend," I say, raising my eyebrows even though he can't see. Saying this feels less incriminating for some reason. But I notice Sal snap his head down to the table. I almost feel bad. "But why doesn't she work here anymore?"

Michael looks off to the side, tapping his fingers against the menus in his arms. "Um, she's... she is..." I narrow my eyes at him. He's not even answering the question. I try to communicate with him through eye contact, bellowing at him to not. Fumble. The. Bag.

He gapes at me like a fish, our intense eye contact freaking him out even more. I sigh to myself. He fumbled whatever bag I'm going on about before he even got to our table.

He finally finds his voice after a second and says, "Lexi is working. At a... sperm... bank."

It takes every little inch of my being not to burst into tears. Holy hell. If anything I'm glad he fucked this up because the sperm bank excuse is hilarious no matter how you look at it. Even better is that it's so ridiculous and random that it's going to distract the entire table from the way he's royally screwing up this conversation.

Ash snorts beside me. Larry chokes on his coke. Todd is silent and so is Sal. Maybe the sperm bank thing will officially scare Sal away from Lexi. Yea-- this could work.

"That's a unique job," I struggle to push out, my voice wavering despite trying to forget what Mike just said. But it's hovering in my mind, like old memes from Vine that still make me cackle to this day. I really wish someone would have caught this entire interaction on video.

Michael glances to Sal again. And that's when I turn to find that the bluenette is glaring at my coworker with his arms crossed over his chest, a dangerous glint in his pretty eyes. Wow. That's a scary look, one that he hasn't even pulled out on me yet.

Mike is gaping again, trying to get words to, you know, word. I try to help him by saying, "I hope she likes it there! That's a big deal." But the words don't register in his mind. I can tell by the look of terror on his face, his gaze still glued to Sally.

My friend takes another second to gather himself, and right as a syllable leaves his lips-- one that he used his one working brain cell to come up with-- Sal interrupts him. He took perfect advantage of Mike's vulnerability.

"I'm not sorry for flirting with your girlfriend."

My eyes squeeze shut as butterflies slap at the lining of my intestines. This is ridiculous and I shouldn't feel flattered. I tilt my head down for a moment, trying to gather my wits. I figured out everything for Michael and I, but I didn't take Sal's response into account. I didn't think he'd have a response to begin with. I never would have thought he'd come up with this either.

"We'll, um," I say hoarsely, clearing my throat to regain my voice, but my heart is flitting about with excitement. I wish Sal never would have spoken. I look up at Mike, sending him a dismissive smile. "We'll order in a little bit. I'm still not sure about what I want. Thanks, Mike."

I've never seen someone scurry away so quickly before in my life.

"Is Lexi the chick you were trying to see over here?" Larry asks as soon as Michael's gone. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, watching as Sal glares at his step-brother. Yikes...

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom," I say, scooting out of the booth before anyone can stop me. I need to not be here right now. Ash is quick to stand up behind me, grabbing onto my hand. I turn, fearful that she's going to stop me, but she just smiles and juts her head forward, signaling me to keep walking.

I hope she doesn't ask me about Lexi. You couldn't even beat this information out of my dead body.

Ash and I take a singular step toward the bathroom, only to get stopped by my least favorite customer. I just want to die at this point. The stress is not worth anything. Not at all.

I've said before that many of the men that come into the diner are assholes of the patriarchy, the ones that tell me to stop talking and make them a sandwich, or comment about women's bodies. The shit that ticks me off beyond belief.

This man in particular smells like mildew and three years of straight sleep and bad breath. He's also not a looker, mind you. And then he's an asshole on top of it? I hate when my boss sends me to his table.

Even worse is watching him eye me after calling out to Ash and I with the words, "How much do you charge?"

My eyes narrow and the boys go quiet behind us. We're close enough for them to hear, especially for Ophelia to hear behind the bar.

She glances up at me, cleaning a glass and frowning.

I look back at the man. I never bothered remembering his name. "Excuse me, sir?" I ask, confused. I don't want to converse with this dickface.

"You're dressed like a whore so you gotta be selling yourself right?" he continues, a humorless chuckle following the grubby words.

I open my mouth then snap it shut, heat taking over my body. I'm embarrassed, really insecure about myself now, and pissed off. He thinks he can just say shit like this to anyone? What a pathetic joke.

Usually I can't do anything about this man since I'm the one serving him, but he doesn't know who I am and I'm not working at the moment. I can reign whatever hell that I want.

But I'm also exceptionally tired. Tired of this horrible job and little pay. Tired of holding up some persona that's already beginning to crash around me. Just tired.

"I'd rather look like a supposed whore than look like I just stepped out of the dumpster, sir. Have a day," I say dismissively. I don't have time for him and I've said my piece. If I go on any further, I'll get kicked out anyway and I've already given my coworkers enough trouble today.

'Have a day' is my favorite thing to say to customers who piss me off because they don't know if I forgot the 'good' or purposefully left it out. It's ominous and vaguely threatening.

Ash and I go to the bathroom and we don't stay there long. Neither of us talk. She just waits for me, like she knew I needed space but that I also needed her companionship. Just a moment away from the mess. Silence. Which is so much more than appreciated, I can't even begin to explain how much I adore my best friend.

She watches me wash my hands through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest and a content smile on her lips. As we start to walk out, she says, "I'm not sure how long you'll be able to keep up the lie about y/n." and she's right. I'm going to face a dead end soon here. "You're obligated to have a sleepover with me tonight so we can come up with a plan, and so you can answer some major questions I have about you right now. My spidey senses are tingling super hard."

Her hand rubs my back and I nod, smiling thankfully at her. Of course she has questions. My entire presence here is questionable right now.

We resurface next to the bar, but looking up at where our booth is shows that it's empty. I'm about to voice my confusion to Ash, but then I notice Lia running around the bar to get to us.

My eyebrows scrunch together as my coworker stops in front of me, eyes on Ash before they focus on me. She mulls over her thoughts for a moment, gaping just like her boyfriend does. Did the boys do something bad?

"We had to... We kicked Sally Face out," is what she says, shocking both me and Ash.

"What?" Ash asks, startled. "What happened?"

Ophelia blinks at Ash, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "He, uh, he walked up to that... that guy at the bar. Kicked his stool out from underneath him. Then he asked me for a drink. Malibu and pineapple."

Ash sighs and I blink at Lia. I don't even know what to think. Did Sal do that for me? And to ask for my favorite drink on top of that...

No. It's impossible. There's no way he would. He just did it for the sake of feminism. That feminism that is nonexistent when it comes to me. Yea, he definitely didn't do that to avenge me. And he was probably just in the mood for alcohol and pineapple juice right? He could never remember the one drink I ever brought up around him. There's no way.

"Sal doesn't even drink all that much," Ash hisses. "What the hell is he doing?" She bites down on her thumb nail, free hand on her hip.

I swallow down all the emotions building up in me. There are so many that I don't even know how to distinguish a single one right now. This is too much. This entire day is too much.

"Okay," I whisper to myself. "Thanks, Lia," I say gratefully. "And thank Mike for me, too, please. I'm going to get everyone out of here before-- yea." I nod to myself, but it isn't very reassuring.

Lia grabs my hand. "We didn't call the police because that asshole had it coming, but someone else might have. It's better to go now."

I nod again, taking yet another deep breath before guiding Ash to the front doors of the diner. The boys are standing right outside, no doubt waiting for Ash and I.

I feel very similar to the way I did when Sal ended our shit-uationship. I'm so confused and so hopeless, but hopeful. So pained, but relieved. I don't know how to handle the way I feel. I can't work myself out of this awful situation now because he's here. He's here and his hair is billowing softly in the wind, showing off his tattooed neck. And a cigarette is between his index and middle finger as he looks out at the jam-packed street. And then his boot is stomping out the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

The nail in the coffin is when he bends over to pick up the cigarette butt and throw it into the trashcan right outside the diner. He would be perfect if he wasn't such an emotionless prick.

I want to cry. I want to feel him again. I want to shoot him with a paintball gun one more time. I want to run my fingers over all his tattoos. I want him to shiver in fear and pleasure because of me. I hate him so much that it's become obsessive.

I lick my lips as I come to a top in front of my friends, more notably, right in front of Sal.

He turns away from the trashcan behind him, his shoulder-length hair following his movements. When he notices me, he stops and stares disinterestedly. The action is so forced though that it feels like it's hiding something else. Like he doesn't want me to know what he just did in the diner.

I watch him. My eye contact is a threat, a warning, a question, begging. Everything, I try to show him through my gaze.

And then I nod at him subtly despite myself. Even if it wasn't for me, he put that guy in his place and I think that's something to appreciate. But at the end of the day, he still left me upset and he's an asshole so I can't find it in myself to physically tell him thank you. The nod will do.

I turn my attention to the rest of The Faces. "I can make brunch in my apartment if that works with y'all?"

And that's how I've made another mistake today. That's why The Faces are walking down the streets of Los Angeles, my apartment just two buildings away.

There's so much wrong with this decision I've made. I should have never invited them over. What if dad is home? He shouldn't be-- but still. There's so much that could go wrong.

But the walk is going disturbingly well. Ash and Larry ooh and ahh at the streets of Los Angeles— which are normal to me. But I understand the charm too. I was very fond of LA when I first came here.

We walk into my apartment building, everyone speaking a little quieter as we traipse through Lobby. I don't speak, I just listen. And I take it that Todd and Sal are doing the same.

My apartment building is nothing special. It's boring, it's the lowest end of mainstream you can get. It's like a 90's apartment in Manhattan, but make it modern and LA. To put it short, it's the cheapest Dad and I could find here.

Having The Faces step into my territory feels like a time bomb ticking down the last few seconds. It's scary, and it puts me in a vulnerable position. I don't have much of a choice— I'm the one who thought of this idea. And I feel like I owe it to my friends to make them something to eat after they got kicked out of the diner. Not that it was my fault, but it was my customer's fault. I feel guilty for some unreasonable reason.

There's always risk though, and I run through my list of said risks as we take the elevator to my apartment. Being in someone's living space is daring, considering that family stuff is all around. Photos on the wall, artwork with family name's on them, doctor appointments and reminders on the refrigerator. Everything is risky, risky, risky.

Lucky for me, dad and I still haven't quite settled in yet. It's been a year, but we're also both constantly moving around. Dad is in hotels for weeks on end and I work most days. We unloaded and fixed our necessities, but other than that, our walls are bare and nothing of note is on our refrigerator. I should be fine.

We finally empty out into the hallway that leads to my apartment and I have to swallow down the anxiety rushing through me. Nothing has gone wrong and I can only hope that the last leg of this walk will go well for me. I just want one thing to go right today, just one. That's all I'm asking.

I get to my door, I shakily slide my key into the lock, and I open it and let all my friends in, watching their eyes bounce around the living room. I nearly slam the door shut once everyone is safe and inside.

I got my wish. Thank you to whoever granted me a little bit of peace on this unfortunate day.

"You need to get a new carpet."

It's the second time I've heard him speak today. The raspy, monotonous, alto tone of his makes me pause. He wasn't insulting, the way he said that was just commentary. But his voice alone feels like a declaration of war and all the panic and fear I've been enduring for the past— what? Half hour?— is replaced with some kind of desirous agony. Like I've been waiting for him to just... just speak.

"You have a problem with everything, don't you?" I respond, my voice biting into the stale air of my living room. I should've simply asked why he felt that way, but I have reasons. For example, the shit I've put up with today has me on edge. Another reason is Sal bombarding me on all ends without him even realizing it, then being so tense with all these horrible decisions I'm making. I'm really itching for a fight right now and I know I can get it from him. I can practically feel my eyes dilating with the excitement that's ransacking my body at the mere prospect of an argument.

Sal's head turns over his shoulders, body somewhat rigid. One hand in his pocket, the other with the fresh tattoo resting at his side. His eyes are narrowed, scrutinizing me and no doubt wondering who the hell I think I am.

"There's a giant fucking stain on your black carpet," he snaps, gesturing his tatted hand at the light green splatter that dad fussed me for weeks ago. That time I was watching The Faces' Youtube video and spilled my damn mint chocolate chip ice cream. When this entire thing between Sal and I was started. Because he had to go and judge me without getting to know me first. "Be happy I even mentioned it," he mutters, tone clipped.

"You think I didn't notice?" I laugh humorlessly. I wasn't lying when I said he has a problem with everything. Seriously— he just stepped foot into my home and has something negative to say about it. "And why don't you guess who's fault it is that the carpet is stained, huh?" The words rush past my lips, all hardly held back fury and expectation for the worst.

Sal tilts his head in a way that begs me to try him again, then turns his entire body to me. He shuts his eyes and holds up a hand, pausing before saying, "It surely isn't my fault if that's what you're implying." He even adds a snort at the end.

"Actually," I say cheerily, chin up and head high because it's quite literally all his fault that I dropped my ice cream whenever I heard him talking about me all those weeks ago. "Yea it is. I was sitting right there," I point to the edge of the sofa nearest the stained part of the carpet. "While listening—"

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, and I did it to myself. Again.

How could I be so stupid? Here I am, openly and happily about to expose my true identity just to make a point. Just to be right. To win. To gain some catharsis from a meaningless argument.

I snap my mouth shut, swallowing over the relentless pounding of my heart. I blink at Sal who's waiting expectantly for me to finish what I was saying. What do I say? How do I save myself?

My palms sweat, my legs quake. Oh, this is so bad. Is this my real downfall? Is this where I break? It's going to happen. I'm going to pass out or have a psychotic break. Maybe I'm going insane— maybe I've been clinically insane for weeks now. At least I could plead not guilty at my murder trial. I've had a lot of murder on my mind today, haven't I?

But there's a knock at the door and bless the heart of whoever is about to punch my door hinges off. Any other situation and I'd be losing my mind over someone knocking so hard, but my savior is behind this hunk of wood.

I let out a shaky breath and tilt my head downwards, pretending like I'm too fed up to continue my argument. It's perfect. The best excuse.

But Sal's eyes burn into me, the scrutinizing, heavy blue trapping me in my own guilt. A narrow waterway hidden behind the confines of his prosthetic, haunting me day and apparently at night too. I find myself stuck, my gaze piercing his and waiting for something that will never come. I don't even know what that something is.

"Never mind," I grunt, spinning on my heels and taking a singular step toward my door.

I twist the knob, relieved by the silence behind me. No one cares enough to ask what that was about. I escaped... somehow.

And then I swing the door open, gaze up at the last person I expected to see, hear a resounding and excited, "Bitch!" and intellectually (smartest decision I've ever made) slam the door back in their face.

Oh no. Oh no, oh fuck.

I forgot.

____________

A/N:::::: 50K is such a dream come true and i really wish i could find more words to explain how excited and whole i feel. when i first started writing at 13, i was also reading on wattpad and fanfiction.com. I saw all these writers getting so many views and comments about their works, and i wondered if that would be me some day. i worked hard for the first couple years of my writing career and my only reader was my lovely sister (thank you amititty) and i realized that i needed to do something different. i started practicing more, and then i got into fanfiction rather than just fiction. and that's when something changed. i'll never forget the day when maybe today got 1k views-- i cried and wept like a baby for HOURS because it meant the entire world to me. little 18 year old ryver had no fucking clue that we'd get this far. that 1k on my trial book would turn into 50k on the next. i'm in tears typing this right now, in disbelief. every single one of you are my reason for writing, for brainstorming, for getting through my day... i consider you guys in everything i do. all the love in this world-- every ounce of affection, of adoration, of admiration-- does not compare to how special all of you are to me. you are all so dear to me, my friends and penpals that keep me going and remind me that the world isn't all bad, that not everyone is bad. so thank you for following me down this road and i hope we can continue like this. i wish we could all stay this way forever! but maybe, just maybe, i'll get to sign published copies of my books for you guys someday. get to follow through on my dream to hug all of you. there's never a way to tell what the future holds, but i believe it's pretty bright. thank you. i love you all with all the working neurons in my brain and numerous blood cells in my body <333

so about this chapter-- i have been looking forward to it since the very first chapter of this story. a lot of things have changed since then, including the chapter, but i still think the contents are a nice surprise and fucking HILARIOUS >.< i just hope you guys like it too! it was kind of hard to get out because i had all these ideas and images and feelings that i desperately needed to portray perfectly, but some things are just unable to be captured by words. my goal was to get as much as i was feeling onto paper (or computer?), so i hope you guys feel all the fear, desperation, and admiration going on! i deleted, retyped, and deleted again so many scenes and parts of this. and jesus christ this is an exceptionally long author's note MY BAD

anyway, as always, you guys own my heart and i love you to infinity and beyond!! i'll link pictures of y/n's red dress and sal's tattoo below <3

p.s. i have an announcement coming soon! nothing big, but i am trying something new so stay turned :3

[glitchyvoice]

hey guys, figured i should probably let you know i cant draw for the time being. i no longer have access to my phone which is what i used to draw and idk when/if ill be getting it back.

i have an art tablet but it doesnt work with my current pc, my hope is to eventually buy a laptop that it would work with but as of now i cant afford to do that so i wont be able to post any art or open commissions.

ive also been a lot less active on tumblr due to time restrictions getting worse and just generally being busy in the time i actually do have, though my schedule on that should clear up soon.

when it does i plan to stream more!! zenless zone zero is out and i wanna experience that for the first time on stream, ive been super excited to see what its like.

lastly, i wanted to apologize for not talking to people as much as i was. i do still want to interact as often as i can, but due to my current schedule i havent had nearly as much time to reach out. i dont get notifications when people message me on tumblr, so i miss some of them.

if you still want to chat (and are comfy with this. obv i dont want to force this on anyone) im a lot more likely to see messages on discord!! so feel free to add me or shoot me a dm over there. (my. user is the same as it is here. i use the same user on everything lmao) i always respond unless im physically unable to at the time. :))

and thats everything i wanted to say!! just wanted to give an update since ive been a lot less active here recently.

[filet-o-feelings]

Fuck it Friday

Thanks for the tag @jesuisici33 I was also tagged for various other daily writing things by @hippolotamus @mammameesh @lemonlyman-dotcom and @statueinthestonetoo and I had planned to post something, but then I forgot and had already published the fic I had been working on.

So, with two weeks until the frozen over deadline and having been able to squeeze out one whole sentence this week, I decided that instead of working on that tonight, I'd open a doc with an idea I had 3 months ago and start a new wip, because of course I did. Anyway, this is a very rough draft that I just wrote and I still need to come up with a few key details, but may I present to you: the tumblr au (mumblr) / celebrity au / secret identity au:

Patrick has just finished watching the new episode of his favorite show, [???] after a long day in the studio, and he’s excited to get on mumblr and talk about it with other fans, anonymously.

He loves this weird little corner of the internet, where he’s able to connect with people without expectations. He can express joy for a thing he loves without anyone knowing anything about who he is. It’s very freeing.

It’s also nice to have one app where he can leave notifications on for a change, because he isn’t be constantly bombarded with DMs and being tagged in everything from pictures of himself to strangers asking for advice to tweets that have literally nothing to do with him or anything he’s ever publicly expressed interest in, simply because people want him to see it.

They’re part of the job, but it’s nice to have an escape. Mumblr rarely sends him any notifications, but today is different, because he’s just pulled up the app and it appears he has a new message.

[david username tbd]: hey, I hope this isn’t weird but I love your weekly insights about [tv show] and I figured I’d reach out and let you know if you ever want to chat about it, I’d be amenable to that

Patrick laughs. This person messaged him unprompted, yet they're making it sound like they'd be doing Patrick a favor by talking to him.

[patrick username tbd]: hi! I just finished watching tonight’s episode so I’m primed for babbling on about it if you’re still around

Patrick hits send on the message, feeling a little weird about conversing with a stranger in this capacity, but mostly it’s thrilling.