#I left out around 12:50 something this morning

[tariah23]

It’s almost 8…. I should be getting home at 10 something 😭…

[sixosix]

EPISODE ONE.

You’ve watched plenty of romance dramas with your mama. Most of them are set in high school, but you have this gut feeling that you’d meet your soulmate in middle school. The universe is hinting at it: a perfect, sunny day, cherry blossoms floating around, and stray cats greeting you a good morning. It’s setting up the perfect first meeting, and you watched enough shows to know this is how it works. That is until you take a sharp right and almost get run over by a bike.

but you can get me (1) | hinata shoyo

series info | next episode

You grew up with parents who seemed to have never left their honeymoon phase. They’re the type to stare at each other lovingly, to dance in the street even when it’s raining. They twirl in the kitchen, flour all over their shirts, skin to skin, with giggles mixing in with one another. They beckon for you to join, and you end up standing on your father’s shoes, pressed between your parents as they dance to some 50s love song they know by heart. It could be storming outside, but that doesn’t affect their smiles.

At a young, impressionable age, seeing your mother laugh so freely had you wishing: I want that, too.

“But you’re too young for that,” your father chided. “Don’t worry about love when you’re still 7 years old.”

“You just rub it on my face,” you grumbled. “You’re childhood friends! It’s not fair.”

Your mother laughed softly, bending down to wipe off the smeared chocolate on the sides of your mouth. “Sweetheart, your soulmate will find their way to you eventually.”

Father tried to feed you another cookie, but you had your lips pursed in contemplation. Crumbs slid off your jaw. “Soulmate?” you asked. “What’s a soulmate?”

��The person out there that’s made for you. Like me and your papa,” your mother answered, grinning cheekily.

If it’s made for you, it’s taking its damn sweet time. Your scowl deepened. “Where’s mine then?”

“Baby,” your mother laughed along with your father, and you felt bullied, for some reason. “You don’t have to rush. You have plenty of time—there’s no need to be so worried.”

“What if I don’t have a soulmate?”

That time around, it was your father who answered. He watched your mother pull out a tray of cookies from the oven with that look in his eye. It was hard to describe it, but you’ve only seen your father give your mother that same face. It made you want to look away sometimes. “You’re the sweetest angel,” he said, then turned back to you, grinning, “so I know the universe has the perfect soulmate in store for you.”

And now, you’re 12 years old and ready to take on the world to find your soulmate.

You’ve watched plenty of romance dramas with your mama. Most of them are set in high school, but you have this gut feeling that you’d meet your soulmate in middle school. The universe is hinting at it: a perfect, sunny day, cherry blossoms floating around, and stray cats greeting you a good morning. It’s setting up the perfect first meeting, and you watched enough shows to know this is how it works.

That is until you take a sharp right and almost get run over by a bike.

You scream as the other person yelps and nearly falls over his bike, wobbling side to side. You scowl at the redhead fumbling with his dumb bike. Way to ruin the flawless setting with a near-accident.

“Watch it!” you scold.

“Sorry!” the boy squeaks out, then takes off again.

He’s wearing the Yukigaoka Junior High uniform, but he’s biking off in the other direction. What an idiot. You dust off your own uniform and carry on, refusing to let something such as that taint the beautiful memory of your first day. 

This is the same middle school where your mother and father met. It’s only right. You can feel it.

Then, you see him by the school gate, joking around with another boy. Light auburn hair, freckles for days, and brown eyes that can make any hopeless Shoujo main character melt. He’s kicking off his shoes, eyes screwed shut as he laughs. He just might be the one.

“That idiot Shoyo,” the other boy grumbles with a mean expression, shoving his shoes in. “How the hell did you not notice you forgot your bag?”

“He probably just dropped it somewhere nearby,” the boy of your dreams says with a chuckle. Even his voice sounds as soft as his expression. “I told him he should be more careful now that he’s taking a bike to school.”

You feel your heart skip a beat or two, suddenly feeling a little shy. They’re by the entrance, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll be walking off soon. Maybe you can wait for them to finish? Then that’d give you more time to admire him, but it would come off creepy for you to stand with no purpose by the entrance.

“I-Izumin! Koji, I got—” A thud, followed by an aggravated yell, “—Oh, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I got it!”

Your bliss is rudely interrupted by the same redhead from earlier rushing over, brushing past you to tackle the two boys. Izumin and Koji laugh at the boy, red-faced and spluttering as he pants and sways in place, heaving.

“You found it? That was fast, Hinata.”

Hinata looks seconds away from puking. “I found it in the… the corner, before the turn. My bag.”

He lifts it in victory. His friends clap for him out of pity.

So he’s the idiot they’re talking about. That makes sense. You huff and walk past them. It doesn’t matter if this Hinata is friends with your soulmate: He wouldn’t be able to ruin anything, and you’re determined to prove that.

As you shuffle to remove your shoes, you hear that aggravating squeak. “Hey, you’re the person I almost hit! I’m sorry again!”

You turn to Hinata in surprise, which melts quickly into embarrassment at having Izumin and Koji’s curious attention while Hinata bows about five times.

“Seriously?” the boy with a scowl snickers. “You hit someone?”

Hinata’s face explodes in a blush. “S-Shut up, Koji. I said almost!”

Izumin moves to approach you. You fumble with pushing your shoes inside the shelf, hoping you don’t look as stupid as Hinata’s hair. Izumin reaches out a hand, smiling. “Sorry about Shoyo. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really! It’s okay!” you declare pathetically. “A bike can’t take me down.”

Hinata frowns. “It didn’t seem fine when you yelled at me.”

You both ignore him.

In a surge of confidence, you shake his hand and sweetly introduce yourself to the charming boy. “I’m Y/N. You are?”

“Oh.” He laughs bashfully, and you damn near preen at the sound. “Yukitaka Izumi. That’s Hinata, and that’s Sekimukai. We’re best friends.”

“Yo,” Sekimukai Koji says in greeting.

“Sorry,” Hinata Shoyo murmurs.

“Right, right.” You turn back to Izumi. “What class are you in?”

“Class 3—we all are,” Izumi answers happily. “You?”

You cheer in your head. This is fate telling you that you’re on the right path—how unbelievably easy it was. “Me too! What a coincidence!”

“That’s awesome,” Izumi agrees. “We’re gonna be friends, I bet.”

Unfortunately, you have to cut your conversation short. More students filter in, indicating you’re running short on time to get to class. You giggle and kick at the floor as Izumi asks to meet you in the classroom, which really isn’t anything special because you’re in the same class. But your heart is racing, thinking about how you can’t wait to understand the joy your parents feel.

Koji elbows Izumi in the ribs, hard. “That Y/N was definitely into you, lucky bastard.”

Izumi’s head whips around, turning red. “W-What? You think so?”

Hinata picks at his uniform, stained with dirt.

“Izumin!” you call out soon after the bell rings for Lunch break. “Can I join you guys?”

“Izumin?” Koji parrots in surprise.

“Yeah, sure,” Izumi says, because he can’t resist your charm, too, surely. “We don’t mind. Right, guys?”

Koji shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

“Why are you just asking Izumin?” Hinata complains.

You regard Hinata for a moment too long. “I almost got injured because of you.”

Hinata deflates, laughing sheepishly. “Yeah…”

You turn your head away, positively miffed. “I don’t want to talk to you,” because, at the end of the day, you’re just a petty kid making enemies left and right.

“Whatever,” Hinata sticks his tongue out. “Izumin, kick Y/N out.”

And because he’s your soulmate, Izumi tells him no.

“I’m home!” You slide your shoes off, stumbling here and there from excitement. “Mama, I’m home!”

You hear the stove clicking off, accompanied by the soft pitter-patter of your mother’s feet. She peeks from the corner and brightens, helping you with your bag as you kiss both her cheeks.

“Welcome home!” she coos, pinching your cheek hard enough to make you whine. “How was school, honey?”

You hold her wrist, then whisper to her secretly, “Mama, I think I met my soulmate.”

You pat one of the stray cats' heads, feeling pleased when the kitty purrs and rubs its tail on your leg in response. You feel its purr as a tremble on your skin as its whiskers tickle your ankle. This is a good sign. Cherry blossom flowers surround the both of you, warmed by the crisp morning sun. Definitely a good sign.

“Good kitty,” you utter softly. “You’re really cute. You don’t have a collar, huh?”

The cat meows back as if understanding. You reach for the cat’s chin, only for you and the cat to jump back in surprise at a bike skidding to a halt a few inches away. And of course—of course, it’s no one else but the idiot redhead who seems to have a blind spot for what’s ahead of him.

“Hinata!”

Hinata pales. “Y-You’re in the middle of the road!”

You give him your best withering glare. Hinata seems to melt into his bicycle seat. “I am not, and you know it. I was busy with my— oh great, you scared my new friend!”

The cat has disappeared from sight, and who knows how long it’ll be before you find a sweet cat like that? A month, probably. Why does Hinata like to tarnish your perfect morning? Is he the comedic relief of your story? You hope not. You really hope Hinata isn’t a recurring character in your book.

“The cat will come back,” Hinata says, wheeling around you. “And he has a name. Atsushi.”

“Really?” you ask, a little amazed. “How’d you know that?”

“I named him.”

You stand up and start walking to school, ignoring Hinata calling after you. You have no time for his nonsense.

“Hey, we’re not done talking!” Hinata orders angrily, but his voice sounds like a dog’s squeaky toy, so it doesn’t really feel scary at all.

You march on, undeterred by him hovering around you like a damn fly. It doesn’t help that you can’t outrun him because he’s the one with a bike between the two of you.

“Yes we are,” you say. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re so mean to me compared to how you talk to Izumin,” he sniffs.

Isn’t it obvious why? “That’s because I like having Izumi-kun around!”

Hinata drops the bomb. “Well, your favorite Izumin’s sick today. He has a fever.”

“What! Really?” Your plans to woo Izumi today: effectively thwarted. What were the flowers for, if not a love confession? What was the cat for, if not for Izumi to care for the kitten in his home and have an excuse for you to come over? “Oh no. Poor Izumin.”

Hinata emits a noise of disgust. “He’s not a baby.”

“I should buy him food!” What a genius idea.

“You don’t even know where he lives.”

“Yes, but you do.” You jab a finger on Hinata’s chest. Students start to avoid you like a bubble has surrounded you both. “I’m going to buy him food, and I’ll pay you if you take it to him!”

“I’m not a delivery guy!” Hinata growls, catching your wrist to shove it off. What a terrible comedic relief.

A school day without Izumi is a little boring. Koji is funny, but he seems worked up about applying for the soccer club, so you haven’t had much to talk to him about that isn’t related to sports. Hinata needs no explanation. By your side, the girls in your class already whisper among themselves about who the cutest boy in their class is. No doubt, they unanimously agree on Izumi.

Fine. It’s normal for the love interest to be popular and admirable by the school.

Ha! They don’t even know that he’s sick. But you do.

Yet as you list down possible food to buy at your local convenience store, it seems fate has sidetracked. Your homeroom teacher calls for you to ask: “Y/N, can you help me carry these to the faculty room?” Your plans were once again effectively thwarted. It seems today is just not your day.

You’re resigned to your fate the moment you step into the faculty room, so when your teacher sweetly asks for you to arrange them in a particular order, your complaints have died down on your tongue. You work robotically, hoping that no one else has thought of bringing him soup. Who else knows about his home, you wonder?

By the time you’re finished, most students have already left the school. Hinata is also nowhere to be found. Even if you hurry to a store, you’re clueless about where your crush lives.

There goes your chance to impress Izumi…

Surprisingly enough, you meet Izumi again on a terrible day. It’s pouring and gloomy, and there aren’t any cute strays to be found. The flowers can’t possibly work in this weather, either. Why is it raining? Is it someone’s wedding day? Is this the bad omen you were hoping to avoid? How awful.

But then again… You cast your eyes to the sky, eyes fluttering at the droplets winding past your umbrella. This is the same weather your parents say they danced in and decided to marry each other.

“Y/N!”

You recognize that sweet voice. You spin around, water splashing from your boots. “I-Izumi?”

He eventually catches up to you, then pants with his hands on his knees. He doesn’t have an umbrella, and he's soaked all the way. Izumi cracks a grin directed only at you, as if the rain doesn’t matter. It feels as though the sun has risen despite the tip-tip-tip of the rain on your umbrella.

“Thank you for the soup,” he breathes. “I felt bad you had to buy one for me, but it tasted really good, so I’m glad you did!”

“Oh. Um.”

You’re 99% sure that you went straight home after your homeroom teacher finally freed you. Did you magically buy him food even asleep? What kind of soulmate nonsense is that? Lamely, you settle for a: “You’re welcome…!”

Izumi smiles wider, and he looks charming, but you find yourself looking for Hinata instead. You have a strange gut feeling that he’s got something to do with this, but he’s nowhere to be found.

Izumi takes your arm, ducking under your umbrella, and you find yourself distracted once again.

[ series taglist: @lynketa @quikhs @dazqa ]

"“I’m not a delivery guy!” Hinata growls" and then he actually becomes one in brazil... ohhhh hinata shoyo... U silly boy. anyway!! i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the series tysm for reading !! wow!!!! lmk what you think w/ a comment or a reblog -- it would really mean a lot<3

taglist is open; check out the masterlist to see how it works mwa

[urrockstar-xe]

forgotten valentines - p.parker x gn!reader

posted feb 1st, 2024 8:14 am.

heres the first day of my countdown to valentines day! whether ur single or just love these silly characters, i hope u enjoy :)

summary: upon the couple stumbling home from working late, reader and peter both realize they've forgotten all about the heart shaped holiday. Not proofread, may have use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.5k

It was nearing 10 pm when you finally made it home, wanting nothing more than to sit down and use your boyfriend as a human-weighted blanket, but just as you opened the front door you heard shuffling down the hall of your apartment complex, turning to look who was coming and seeing the boyfriend in question, Peter sighed heavily once you both made eye contact, earning a chuckle from you as you entered your apartment, Peter following not too far behind. 

“That wasn’t planned?” you joked quietly, turning on a few lights so it didn’t feel so late that you’d have to whisper. Peter’s quiet laugh filled your ears as he headed for the fridge, opening it up with a sluggish movement. “No, fate just keeps on tugging us towards each other” He teased back, pulling out two sodas before shutting the door with his elbow. 

You pulled off your coat, abandoning it by the door and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Peter soon joined you after taking off his own coat and shoes, he handed you one of the cans, already opened. You leaned into Peter’s side, causing him to throw his arm around your shoulders happily. The clock read 10:12 PM as you flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch. 

“There is a lot of 50 Shades of Grey going on,” Peter said upon realizing how many channels had the 50 Shades movies playing along with every other channel playing romcoms and old romantic dramas. “Yeah, what’s this all about?” you wondered out loud, then the realization hit.

“Oh my god, Peter it’s Valentine's Day!” You sat up, looking at Peter with wide eyes as he checked his phone and his jaw fell, matching your expression now as the date confirmed it. 

“I didn’t even realize it was February” Peter whispered, thinking out loud as you stood up, his eyes following your movements. “Okay, well, we’ve got 2 hours left,” You said, watching him nod in response. 

“It’s too late to grab flowers and chocolate” Peter’s voice was laced with a guilty tone as he spoke, remorse-filled puppy eyes staring up at you. You smiled down at him, hands coming to rest on either side of his face, “That’s okay, it’ll all be on sale by tomorrow morning” Your reassurance and soft touch brought a smile to Peter’s face, “besides, you’re here and not out there” you motioned towards the window, exposing the city of queens who didn’t get the privilege of Spider-man tonight. 

Because you did.

“Will you be my valentine?” Peter asked with a goofy grin on his face, that only grew when you laughed, giving him the exact reaction he had wanted. You nodded, “I’d be happy to be your Valentine, Peter” He smiled at you in return, standing up and causing you both to be nearly chest to chest with the action. 

“C’mon, then, we’ve got a date to prepare for” Peter whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving the soft moment, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, abandoning the two barely touched soda cans as you switched off the TV and went to look for a Vinyl to play on your old record player. 

Neither of you had the sharpest memory but that never stopped you from being a damn good team, and times like these always did so well at reminding you both of this sweet fact.

The soft and not-too-loud music filled your small apartment once you finally made your decision. You made your way into the small kitchen as Peter rustled around the pantry looking for something to cook, “we could do pasta!” he exclaimed, too excited about finding something to make, before closing the pantry door and setting the bowtie noodles on the counter, turning to look for ingredients for the sauce. “What kind are we making?” you asked with an amused look on your face, hopping up onto the counter as you watched Peter move around the room. 

“Whichever kind we have the ingredients for,” Peter said, laughing with you as you slid off the counter despite having just barely sat down. “I’ll boil the noodles” Peter hummed in acknowledgment of your announcement, the sound of him clumsily moving behind you filled your ears and blended perfectly with the music, this was perfect. 

“Spaghetti it is!” Peter mumbled to himself before turning around, standing directly behind you as he went to turn on the burner beside the one you were using to boil water. You couldn’t have missed his hand resting on your side if you tried, even if he didn’t squeeze lightly every few seconds. Peter stood there longer than he needed, watching the flame on the left burner while you poured noodles into the pot on the right burner. 

“Just makin’ sure you’re doin’ it right, doll,” Peter explained with a small smirk on his face as if he was reading your thoughts. You scoffed, smiling, “Why don’t you start the sauce so we can have dinner before midnight, yeah?” You asked in a similar teasing tone, not even attempting to hide your heart eyes as you glanced at him. Peter laughed in response, nodding and turning to continue his job for dinner, leaving the spot where his hand sat on your side feeling cold and empty despite your hoodie covering it. 

You both stood wordlessly as you worked, eventually stopping the right burner and allowing Peter to help you drain the water with a strainer before mixing the noodles in with the sauce, “10:57, I think we’re doin’ pretty good on time, what do you think?” Peter smiled at you as you pulled out two bowls, “I think you’re gonna burn our only food option if you don’t turn off the stove” you teased, before smiling back. “We just make a good team” Your second response was more genuine, earning a nod as Peter looked away to turn off the left burner, his smile softening. “Yeah, a great team.”

Together you both set up the table, giggling when Peter ran off to get the candle before setting it down in the middle. “There’s just something missing,” Peter mumbled, watching you sit down at the small table just enough for two people, which is all you needed. 

“I’ll be right back” Before you could argue Peter had run off again, this time to your shared bedroom before stumbling out a few moments later tugging on his suit. “Peter, what are you-” “Don’t start eating yet!” he pointed at you, pulling on his mask with one hand, ignoring the sound of your laughter as he struggled. You watched with an amused expression as he left out the window, the clock now reading 11:09, it’s still early enough to wait so you took it upon yourself to get up and light the candle, along with getting out anything you had to make the rocky road ice cream in the freezer more fun and setting it on the counter.

The sound of the window closing caught your attention, “Look! Ice cream bar!” You said, smiling proudly at your presentation before turning back to your boyfriend just as he pulled off the mask, out of breath and a proud smile settled on his lips too. 

“Look!” he imitated your tone, pulling flowers from behind his back, a little droopy and absolutely taken from your upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Baker’s windowsill, but still perfect. “Flowers!” he finished, both of you laughing before you pulled out a mason jar, filling it with water, and setting it beside the candle. Peter put the 4 dainty white daisies in, smiling at you as he pulled your chair out for you. 

“I love the ice cream bar,” He praised your work, sitting across from you while immediately reaching for your hand, and you happily gave it to him. “I love the flowers,” You responded, honey dripping off the words with how sweet you spoke, blissfully happy in this moment.

“This is perfect! Who needs plans for Valentine’s Day when we’re as great as we are!” Peter said, almost moaning as he finally took a bite of his food. You laughed at his reaction before trying your own. “Last minute dates are our thing, so.” You teased, earning an unserious glare from your guilty boyfriend. 

“I love them though” You reassured, squeezing his hand. 

Peter squeezed back and leaned forward as if to tell you a secret as he softly spoke, “I love you” His gaze was as loving as ever and it was all yours, it was as if he was telling you with his eyes that it always would be. 

“I love you more”

“Impossible”

His immediate response was too cute to argue no matter how badly you wanted to, but instead, you leaned forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Peter sighed at the sweetness of it all, closing his eyes and shaking his head as you sat back down. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart”

[hellowoolf]

on strawberries and masonry: chapter iv

series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company

OR

you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)

warnings: angst, age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), mention of killing, mention of knives, SMUT, thigh riding/dry humping (…), fingering, pussy eating, some feelings…. (as always, let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 5k

authors note: and so here's the thing about this is that-🏃🏼‍♀️💨💨

series masterlist | masterlist

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

you wake up with a tug between your legs and your hand around your throat. you smile at the space of your room; you fucked joel yesterday. he was unflinching and hard, concrete under your inky wetness, but you walked away leaving him stained, you know, and this is enough. at last, you feel you’ve marked him just as irreparably as he has you (you cannot linger on this thought for too long).

you killed yesterday, too. sliced someone open at your feet just as you did all those years ago, left the body to rot with the rest of the mold outside jackson’s walls, and the ease of it certainly should frighten you, but the great lifting of your fuzzy secret from your shoulders lightens you as you pull yourself out of bed. joel knows the whole of you now, and in your first moments of consciousness this morning you can admit that the bareness of that pleases you. 

you’re off patrol today, jesse insistent on beginning his rounds, so he and noah have inherited your and joel’s route for the day; maria figured the early light would make the induction less horrifying than it is. you want joel again, you think, maybe once the sun’s gone down, and move through your kitchen on your first free day in months.

of course, joel has always seemed attuned to your most secret thoughts, and so when you open your front door to greet your little fruits in the morning sun—you did this so little, these days—he’s there, waiting for you. the curls of his hair reach out every which way and you want to run your fingers through them again like you did yesterday, but he looks worried, almost frantic, so you refrain. there’s mud cupping around his boots and track marks behind him in the newly thawed dirt, like he’s been walking circles outside your doorstep.

“hey, are you o-”

“can i come inside?”

something in your stomach turns over. you step aside to let him through. he paces across the floor, hands tightened into balls and then running over his jaw.

“listen, baby, i been thinkin and i don’t think we can do that again. what we did yesterday. i…you’re tommy’s friend, and ellie likes you so much, and you’re half my goddamn age i mean, jesus.” he says all of it with his back turned to you, but spins to face you, now. “we go on patrol and i…i don’t mind your company, really, but it can’t, i can’t. we can’t.”

joel is sort of winded with the words. you flare up, first, with a searing anger—you’d murdered and confessed and given yourself to him, and it’s taken joel all but 12 hours to decide none of it was worth it. and it was so good, you want it again without compromise. you flinch to lash out, to yell and scream and plead with him.

but then you think of baby. baby. baby is an artifact of the act of yesterday, of him inside you and the stretch and the warmth. despite the rest of it, you know you have him, with baby you have him. so you allow him this moment, allow him to believe himself righteous and you willing to let it go.

“okay, sting. it’s fine.”

because he knows you—an unintentional mistake, but one that will kill you someday, surely—he looks unconvinced. “fine?”

you hum. joel’s knuckles are white with the fists he’s formed at his sides, and you’re certain if you asked him to open them there’d be crescent marks in his palms. you almost break, looking at his tightness there, almost grin at him and laugh that it’s inevitable he will fuck you again, it’s inevitable. but he looks so disconcerted here, a few steps from your doorway. you nod, solemnly, wetness collecting between your legs thinking of when he’ll take you next.

“yeah, joel, come on, i’m a big girl.” he rustles. “it doesn’t have to be a big deal. we can forget it happened.” no we can’t. and it’s your internal dialogue, but joel seems to hear it, too, because he rocks back and forth on his heels, waiting, it seems, for you to convince him further. you say nothing, shifting your weight onto one leg. he nods, to you and himself, and gulps down a sigh.

“alright,” and then more sure, “alright.” he walks to your door, half-turns his face to you with a hand on the knob. “thank you, darlin.” 

once he’s gone, out through the door with his musk wafting down your hallway, you consider yourself, and the mud he tracked inside. you know he’ll seek you out again, from how off-put he seems with you now, and the way he twitched in his jeans, but still, a part of you bleeds, wounded at his attempt at rejection. what is wrong with you? it is strictly physical, you repeat to yourself for the millionth time since he came back to jackson. you think of leaving the dirt he streaked on your floor, a reminder that he came for you, but this is precisely the fear, the fear of wanting him for more than what he can give you, and so you move to wipe it up. you figure that joel is likely right; however this ends, it will be widely destructive and perhaps unfixable. but you’re right, too. it felt too good, and you’re both too unforgivable, to feign goodness now. something like giddiness bubbles up in your stomach—even against the doom you’re so adept at conjuring and the deep shadows joel casts, you’re eager, elated, thinking of him and how he touched you.

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

the next day, you and joel return to your rounds like normal. like normal. almost normal. you talk at him from horseback, call him sting because you felt how it made him harder against your dripping seam, and he grunts responses back at you, doing his best, you feel, to believe in the normalcy. 

but he watches you. you suppose he might have always eyed you this way, but it’s more feral now, unconcealed. you catch him glancing at your ass as it bounces on the saddle, the curve of your neck when you lean down, the grip of your fingers on the reins. your arousal grates at you, screams from your cunt and up your spine, and you hush it with tenderness. you will be sated again. 

“so you heard about tommy and maria?”

joel bristles a little. “yeah, i did.”

“what, you aren’t happy for them? have a heart, sting, he’s your brother,” you smile.

he gives you a tight lipped grimace back. “yeah, and he’s irresponsible, thinks himself a fuckin hero.”

“no, not a hero. he knows himself too well to think that. he’ll be a good father, you know that.” joel stays quiet, and you look him over on his horse. the breeze makes space for the ghost he saddles up with, the one you’ve yet to meet. he is so brittle, always, but you remember how he’d asked where to touch, how intent he’d been on gentleness, at least at first. so you say, “you’ll be a good uncle, i think.”

joel looks at you surprised, and then down at his hands. you’re learning the language of his face; you watch him turn his hands over, reins slung through them, the both of you measuring their size. you’re slapped across the face with that devastatingly terrible want to hold him, the one you felt when he came to you about ellie, though you can’t bring yourself to cut through it as mercilessly as you did then.

“i hate to be the one to tell you, but you aren’t as horrifying as you think you are.”

this shakes him, but so too does it brush some of the mournfulness from his shoulders. joel looks back up at you, a little amused and a lot guarded, and says, “yeah? is that what i think?” he’s deflecting, shielding himself with your shared sexual tension, but you let him.

you hum, grinning. “mhm. you walk around like you’re this big awful beast.”

“i think i might be.”

“well, there are worse things to be.”

joel snorts. you think he likes when you criticize him. “and you’re the authority on this, huh, darlin?”

you twist a little in your seat, your own wetness more insistent. you do your best to smirk, look unaffected, defiant. “yeah, i think i am.”

he shakes his head, smiling more in earnest, trying to keep the ends of his mouth down. “you’re somethin, baby, i’ll give ya that.”

the pet names seem to come naturally now, coming and going as they please, and you notice him shift in his saddle. you know he’s just as coiled up as you are now, can feel the buckle of his body under the memory of you beneath him. you urge yourself to be patient, to wait him out, bate him to you, and let silence fall over the both of you as you trot back down to jackson, hoping the quiet soothes the sparkling ends of your open wiring.

it’s not until you dismount in your horse’s stall, saddle shucked to the side, and walk out to meet joel outside the stables that you’re struck with how immediate the inevitability you’re both playing with is. 

he notices your limp—slight, nearly imperceptible to anyone other than him, and far better than it’d been the day before—only as you pad over, his side leaned against the doorway. you make it to him, his features strung together and mouth open slightly, and with frustration that teeters on offense he says, “why are you walkin like that?”

you look down at your legs and back up at him. you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy. “walking like what?”

joel rubs a hand over the side of his face and huffs, lowly and enunciative, “you know what the fuck i’m talkin about. why are you walking like that?”

you know you won’t get the words out properly, so you keep your eyes on him and stay silent. he brings a hand to grab around your jaw, and it reminds you of that night on his porch with the strawberries, but this time he keeps it there, squeezes, inspects the push of your skin. he whispers a goddamnit, mainly to himself, and then pulls your face closer to his and you breathe into each others mouths.

“this real? are you—fuck—are you fuckin limping? or are you tryin to set me off?”

you don’t hesitate. “real.”

joel nearly growls at you, and gives your head one last tug before he drops it. “let’s go,” he grits out, and starts storming towards what you know is his house. a shudder runs through you and you feel yourself clench around nothing; a part of you makes to refuse him, to decline to follow behind him like you need him for the sake of stubbornness and point-proving. in the end, though, you let yourself be led, for the knowing that you’re pulling at him in someplace irremediable.

as soon as you walk through his door he’s got a paw on your bicep, pressing his fingers deep into your flesh, and another at your throat, holding lightly to keep your head close to his. you push your face forward to feel his tongue in your mouth, but he ducks his chin back as he hauls you to the couch in his living room, giving you a satisfied mm-mm and a shake of his head. he sits himself in the center and pulls you down onto one of his thighs, running his hands up and down your sides, under your ass, up around your tits, pressing and pulling. you duck your lips down to his again but he catches you by the throat.

“no kissin this time.”

you whine in response, but he presses his thigh up and the friction on your clit through your clothes makes you mewl. you drag your cunt, soaked through, along his pant leg, and tip your head back with a moan. “i thought you wouldn’t fuck me again,” you say, breathy and mainly to his ceiling.

joel groans watching you, pulling your hips back and forth along his thigh. “an’ i won’t.”

you grip his shoulders and glide your pussy on him, hoping he feels the wetness and unbearable heat there.

“but-”

he lets a breath out hot along your collarbone and you arch further into him. “but nothing. keep going. make yourself come on me,” he pants.

you’re sure you’ll draw blood, even through his coat, with your hold on his shoulders. your moans grow high pitched and loud, wrecked, as pleasure pulls through your limbs and swirls around your clit. and it’s so good, but your self-destructive insistence still finds a way out, between moans letting out “joel, i-” but joel moves the hand on your throat to your jaw, pulling your mouth open with his thumb and pushing the tip in. you swirl your tongue around it, accepting silence and accepting him at last, and he moans wildly as you suck on his finger.

“please darlin, just give me this, just let me watch,” and he sounds so fucking desperate you can’t help but move faster, pressing yourself further into his leg and feeling the dampness you leave in your wake. you move like that, his thumb in your mouth and watching you, intently and mercilessly, while you pant and mewl with your clothed cunt rutting along his jeans, until you feel your orgasm tapping down your shoulder blades. 

“jesus, darlin, you’re soakin me, fuck, you see that?”

you nod, his thumb corking any foul response you could possibly throw back at him.

“you need it that bad? sweet thing,” he purrs into your neck.

from around joel’s finger, you moan, “oh god, joel, i’m gonna come.”

joel grunts and groans back at you, “that’s it, baby, make a mess, fuck.”

you go tight and press further into him, thrusting faster and harder, and you’re so close when you realize he’s tipping his hips up and twitching as he moans, and oh fuck he’s coming from watching you. you spasm as you come, screaming into his skin as he pushes his thumb further down your tongue. the taste of his hands, the hardness of his cock as it presses into your leg when you thrust forward, the spreading heat from his come in his jeans, all of it twists you up, hot arousal dragging through you until you’re spent.

you both pant, clothes trapping your come to your body and his to him. he lets himself one deep breath in of your scent, running the curve of his nose through the light sheen of sweat glistening down your neck, before placing you next to him. he’s delicate with your body, limp and all limbs and elbows, as he sets you on the cushion, but still you feel him deflate. you’ve returned to that place at the edge of his bed, of his drowning in self-condemnation and your straining to keep him afloat.

“joel, let’s not do this again, it’s fine, you’re fine, i’m fine. what’s wrong with this?” it comes out lighter than you intend, voice still narrowed by your fading orgasm.

he clears his throat of something thick and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, but he’s not as decisive as he was that first time, and a piece of you lifts. “so much.”

“you’re just being combative now.”

he laughs, then, sort of delirious, but your cheeks warm with it anyway as he says, “it’s like i…” and then he raises his head to peer down at you, “i can’t help myself. i don’t know.”

you sigh. “are you planning on trying again? to help yourself?”

he looks around the room, mostly untouched despite your coming. “i guess so.”

you nod, brushing your pointer finger down his bicep. he doesn’t flinch. you find you aren’t angry at him, what with the overwhelming sense that it’s unnecessary. there’s a resignedness about him, one that’s unbiting and soft; it will give under your fingertip, if you push it. 

“okay. come find me when you give up,” you say, and there’s no malice in it. he leans back on the couch and runs a knuckle down your hand splayed between you.

“alright.”

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

by the time joel looks for you again, you’re altogether impressed—he held off, this time, for a whole 48 hours. when that soft spot you prodded two days earlier finally caves in, he comes to bang on your door in the near twilight darkness. you let him in, and he insists, repeats like a hymn into your stomach as he gets on his knees, that this ain’t fucking either, and pulls your jeans off.

you don’t tell him it’s your first time having your pussy eaten; in your experience, men find the end of the world a wholly viable excuse for avoiding it. the lack of it hasn't bothered you until he presses his face into your cunt, swirling his tongue around your clit and anchoring his hands on your hips.

“oh jesus fuck oh my god, sting,” you moan, still pressed up against the wall by the door. you pull on his hair to grind yourself further onto his face and he groans into your skin “so good, darlin, so good.”

joel laves his tongue over your clit, circling and rolling it on his taste buds. you’re screaming, and hitch a leg over his shoulder. “fingers, joel, please.”

you feel him smirk, frenzied, into your cunt, tongue and teeth still eating at you there, mumbling, “say it again.”

you whine, “please, please,” but he shakes his head, and the friction pulls your spine from the wall into an arc in the air. your toes curl as the heat of his mouth spreads from your pussy through your body and you know you’ll be close soon, but you want to feel him inside. “i’ll say it as many times as you want me to, fuck, please.”

“my name, my name, say it again,” he corrects, sounding about as lost as you are.

you respond immediately, pleading, “joel, joel, joel, please, your fingers, joel,” and as he growls at the sound of his name in your mouth he pushes two fingers into your aching sex. you feel your cunt swallow them whole, pulsing and buzzing around them.

“jesus, so fuckin tight.”

you dig your heel into his back and he thrusts his fingers faster, stroking your walls and reaching for your cervix. the sound of you, around his hand and dripping down his wrist, makes you both rasp out something unintelligible. you try to mewl out something like i’m so fucking close, and joel seems to understand, nodding slightly. as you tug tighter on his hair and pleasure comes roaring at you, world humming and white as you gush, joel pulls his fingers from you to position his mouth under your hole, pushing his tongue in and out of you. you scream, at him and yourself, that it’s so good, and he moans in agreement, lapping up everything you give him. 

when it’s over, you slump slightly against the wall, and he leans back on his haunches to assess you, naked from the waist down and barely standing. he looks down at the fingers he pulled from you, wetness shining here, and then back at your bare thigh. without a word, he begins to bring them up to your skin.

“joel, what are you-”

he looks possessed, almost, unresponsive, as he wipes his fingertips across you. you look down, light catching where he’s touched you. J. the sight of it makes you slide fully to the floor, something quick and beastly baring its teeth within you. the silhouette of his cock, stiff in his pants, draws you in. you feel him watching you as you stare.

“can i?”

he shakes his head, out of breath. “no.”

“please?”

“i think i really will die if i see my cock in your mouth,” he heaves, and you both sputter at the thought. you bump your head on the wall behind you and close your eyes.

“thank you, sting.”

you hear him sniff as he lifts himself from the floor. the door creaks open.

“wasn’t for you.”

he leaves you to cope with whatever that means, dripping onto your floorboards.

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

neither you nor joel ever say, out loud, that your rapacious meetings are confidential, but it’s an unsaid promise you keep regardless. the moments come to you much like the strawberries, small and saccharine and due for rot, but yours. he holds you taut against the side of the stables to pet his middle and ring fingers into you, stretching you like a promise he knows he cannot keep; he finds you, before patrol and after, to fuck you on his tongue, leaving marks down the backs of your thighs, blushing letters of his restraint; a few times he allows himself the demeaned enrapture of rutting his cock, through his jeans, along the seam of your pussy, rasping out soft and terrible things about the way you look and feel. all the while he reminds you, into your clit or along your hairline, that this isn’t fucking, though you suspect he says it more for the way it reverberates through you and comes back to him.

you find yourself unused to being someone’s secret. your first, danny, was dark moments in a treeline with the rest of your group feet away; the lot of you were shameless, an incestual sort of family, and nobody minded the noises. you’ve taken a few men home in jackson, too, but they unanimously found merit in the achievement of fucking you, reclusive hermit as you have been, and set the stories of you loose to circulate through the commune the morning after. you might have minded, the first time, but in time you supposed the rumors humanized you, at least, made you more woman than you sometimes let on. besides, such objectifications never materialized; to avoid castration or some other gruesome slice of a death, the whispering always quieted as you walked past, and quickly became uninteresting. before joel, it’d been a year, at least, since you’d taken someone to bed, and now you find yourself more woman than human with him, but the rest will never hear of it. a piece of you remains convinced the secrecy, for joel, is born of his mortification, disgraced by your body and the ways he meets it; this truth is an unrelenting one that twists something smarting through your chest. the rest of you remembers the J he drew on your thigh, painted on with your own slick, and thinks (hopes, if you can be honest with yourself) that he is just as possessive of you as you have become of him.

you sit on your porch bench with a strawberry in hand, red wetness staining your skin as you slice it with your knife. ellie told you a few days ago that she saw a magazine once, with food and chefs in it, and they had a page about fruit art. the both of you laughed at how trivial that sounded, doubled over on the floor of the greenhouse, but when the laughter died out, you found yourselves shoulder to shoulder wondering how exactly one made roses out of little fruits. you make nicks in the strawberry and pull them down with the flat of your knife to fan them out. it looks much more like a little pine cone.

“the hell is that?”

you don’t have to look up to know who it is, but you can’t help watching him approach. the warmth of late spring continues to dance through jackson, and you feel a heat curl in your stomach watching his forearms press from his rolled flannel sleeves. you grin down at your strawberry.

“it was supposed to be a rose, but i don’t feel too convinced.”

the soft rumble of a laugh rings through your ears. joel pulls your open hand toward him to inspect the thing.

“hm. maybe if i squint real hard.”

you pull your hand back, biting your tongue behind your cheek to keep from beaming at him. “you’re impossible.”

“uh huh,” he smirks, and sits down next to you. a second of quiet spreads its legs between you, feline and satisfied. his breathing comes slowly, deeply, and you feel your lungs synchronize with his, continuing to cut at your strawberry and spinning it in your hand.

“why’d you come?”

joel clears his throat. “not for that.”

you hum. “just the pleasure of my presence, then?”

with a smile he tries to hide from you he says, “somethin like that.”

another open moment, the wet scratch of your fathers knife reverberating in the air. joel watches the people of jackson walk by, on their paths to food or sleep or love somewhere, squints his eyes as the horde makes its way and does not turn its head to you.

“you don’t…” he circles his thumbs together, shaping his words very carefully, “you don’t got a lotta people to talk to here, huh?”

“is that what you came here for? to ask me that? don’t be an asshole.” he shrugs. you let out a tiny huff. “i don’t know, i guess not. but i don’t do a lot of talking, so i don’t need that many listeners.”

“don’t do a lotta talkin?”

“no, not really.”

“well shit, darlin, you talk a helluva lot with me. why’s that?”

something biting sinks its teeth into you, cheeks flushing and hands closing more over the strawberry, nearly mutilated now (the both of you). “cause you refuse to say anything and the silence gets exhausting.”

“i’m exhausting?” and there’s a smile in his voice that you take in like a tonic and nearly spit back up. you will not feel this feeling, you will not.

“yes, you are,” you insist, and you know you’ve laid your cards out now with the waver in your voice, feeling him shift beside you. you think he’ll let it go.

“really…” a breath, “why d’you…talk so much to me?” the emphasis, there, to me, surprises you.

“what do you mean why?”

“i been told i ain’t good company.” you smile something tragic at your feet. he continues, “and you’re so young. pretty little thing. and you don’t have any friends your own age. it’s sort of…odd.”

you could turn around, storm inside and slam the door behind you; you consider this option. but what’s one more awful truth? what’s a million more? you seem to relinquish them all, at one point or another. pretty little thing, oh god, oh god.

“i think you’re a lot like me, sting. a lot like me.”

joel shakes his head, admonishes, “don’t say that.”

“i mean it, you are.”

“i ain’t.”

“you are! i am violent and ruthless and the killing doesn’t bother me anymore. i get nightmares and i think i’m saved, but then they slip right off. the people here are so tormented by the blood on their hands, or they have none to begin with, but i don’t even mind it. that’s so much fucking worse.” joel opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. “and that’s what you are, too. i know you’ve killed people, joel, a whole fucking mass of them just like i have. but then you’re…” and here’s the most horrific part, you brace yourself for it, “you’re sort of gentle with me. did you know that?” you look at him, now, and wish you didn’t. he winces at you like you’ve punched him square in the stomach. still, you don’t rush the words, let them crawl out slowly. “that’s not forgiveness, that’s apathy. you don’t care about the things you’ve done. and i don’t either. so i…” you make one last scoring line with your knife before setting it down, cupping the fruit between both hands and letting the juice seep out. “i guess i thought talking to you would feel good. it does feel good.”

joel’s eyes are brown and gleaming at you, and you watch as he unties the things you’ve said. he looks over your eyelashes, the bridge of your nose, at the plush of your lips, and then out onto the street ahead, slouching over. please say something, say anything.

“you got a real keen eye on you, baby.”

something heavy and unforgiven washes out of you, but he sounds like absolution, you think, with the drawl and the sugar in his words. “you think so?”

“mhm.”

the tone of his voice reaches around you, shakes a grin along your lips as you hold back deep heaves in the column of your throat. his broadness sat next to you, his unrelenting appraisals of you, it’s all deeply intimate; he twists you in his palm like you and your little fruit, but he does not slice you open. he raises a thumb to cup around the back of your head, stroking the pad back and forth along your hairline. you don’t dare move. 

he whispers, “so soft here.” you shudder, and the bench creaks as he leans over. you feel the heat of his lips press, light as anything but intentional, decided, right under where he’d dragged his thumb. threading his fingers up through your hair he holds you in place, dipping his canines a moment into the line of your neck before pulling back, flickering his lips one final time on the little mark he made. goosebumps raise down your shoulders and wrists at the closeness of him, scent of his spit and skin. 

you’re certain he’ll leave as he sits back in his spot, certain he’s pulled you both back to his terror of the sweetness of you. but his hand stays, he stays. you sit there, unspeaking with wet fruit in your hand, until the sun dips below the horizon, his palm behind your neck, brushing his fingers over the fading indent he left. a ravenous thing tugs below your navel, pulling your wetness out, swelling your clit in your jeans, and you greet it like an old friend. but the grip up higher, around your trachea and through your arteries, is new. the beating heart of it grows with the swipe of joel’s fingers, and you know you are fucked, but oh, you’ve fought so hard. you’re condemned to love him—you’re nearly there, it occurs to you. maybe martyrdom and death in halfway love with him is worth it, if he can keep his skin on yours.

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

taglist: @koshkaj-blog @shotgun-shelby @limerence4u @5oh5

[preciadosbass]

14/8/24 [4x DIYS + a drawing <already posted> today!! key & significant photos at end. technically a journal from yesterday as it was posted on a later schedule.]

woke up at 9 and opened instagram to find out about danielle’s [vic fuentes’s wife] second pregnancy. im so happy for the both of themm!! [that explains vic’s freaky comments on danielle’s posts…] i stayed scrolling on insta and doing those story template/prompt things up until 9:50 when i finally went out to properly say good morning to boris. id already mouthed it to him through the front door after waking up, but i can’t go without actually sitting with him. i had breakfast as the heat is making me faint and he kept on jumping up on my knees to try and eat it. he did at one point lick the bottom of my toast [i got it on video yipee] and the way he tucks his paws and places them on my leg to get to it is so cute.

my mum said i should take off that bit of toast so i did, and stayed outside with him until 10:15 because apparently my sister has people [keyworkers [[?]] come over aswell and two people turned up on the driveway. once i was back inside my room, i wrote the entry to this journal and listened to linkin park’s ‘meteora’ [their best album in my opinion] i thought that i wouldn’t be able to leave my room in ages due to the people round, but my dad came in and told me that they’d left to shop/bake/cook with my sister. which is good for her, and ideal for me because i can get on with my diy windcharm inspired decoration/bottlecap charm.

i waited for my dad to get his tools and he started drilling the holes through the bottlecaps at around 10:40. after he was done, i brought the shells i collected from the beach inside, and my dad started going through the different ways he could drill through them as i couldn’t decide. i decided on one and made my bottlecap charms while he drilled. i finished one out of two of the charms when i realised the elastic was drooping and it looked weird so my dad drilled through the tops of the caps to make things easier. obviously you can see where it was originally drilled but i still think the results are cute. [photos at end]

i went outside to get sticks for my ‘windcharm’ thing, and put ‘jaime’ on my favourite bottlecap charm, which isn’t revolutionary for anyone else apart from me. it is at the moment because i don’t have my name on anything i own, and i finally put it somewhere!! the best part is, i can just say it’s because i love jaime preciado, as my family already know about my interest in him. they’ll never know whahahaha

i don’t actually know why i made the charms, they don’t serve much purpose other than hanging somewhere in my room and being something to look at. but i like randomly making ‘useless’ stuff — it gives me something to do. hopefully i can put up some more hooks and actually put them on display, maybe use the jaime one as a keychain if i do ever come out. i finished re-doing them, took pictures of them, and then said a quick hello to boris before starting to make my windcharm thing at 12:40.

i felt conscious over everyone in the house watching me make it, so i took the shells with me went into my room. i measured out all the elastic and started making it at 1. i threaded all the shells and a few odd tiny beads onto the frame. i originally meant to make one the bits that hang down to have silver beads on, but they didn’t fit through the elastic, so i resorted to bigger cream coloured beads. i finished it at 1:40 and stood on my stool to work out where i wanted it hung. i organised a place for it to go and hot glued my favourite shell onto the centre of the stick frame. my dad put a hook in my ceiling and hung it at 2:20. it dosent really look anything close to a windcharm, but at least it’s another thing in my room to glance at. [picture at end]

i listened to my atticus cd while making it, and i love it — my favourite track so far [im not sure how long i listened to it] was american nightmare by am/pm. it’s one of the only cds i have where all of the tracks/most of the tracks; [i cant remember] are all recorded by different artists. afterwards i went outside with boris until 3. my mum and dad were on the other side of the garden gate, being shown my sister’s nunchucking. upon getting inside, i started putting up some more photos at the side of my desk [3:20] i also stuck my jaime charm up there aswell. as for the other target looking one, i’m going to leave it hanging on my mini bass. [pictured at end]

i feel like i haven’t put up anything in decades even though i did not too long ago when i stuck pikachu on the side of my shelf, but still. while doing this, i listened to my main playlist [WIP] [link at end]. once i was done, i got out a few scrap parts of old jeans that id cut up and drew on them with a paint pen. i cant actually make any patches because i’ve lost my fabric paint, but i thought i might aswell make the ‘template.’ i made a my chemical romance once, along with ones of fall out boy, ‘all cats r beautiful’, the pierce the veil symbol, the frank iero logo, a killjoys patch, and a party poison patch. kobra kid is my fav out of the killjoys, but there’s no way on earth i’m drawing a kobra on denim or whatever the fabric im using is. i’m bad at drawing as it is. [will post photos of the finished product if i remember]

after putting all my supplies away, i posted for the first time on the mcr community i joined [which was scary wtf everyone’s so good at art there]. it was a picture of my diy black parade mcr trinket box. afterwards i wrote a decent amount of this and added a few full albums to my main playlist along with changing the playlist image. i also added three more can tabs to my tab bracelet as i found two out of nowhere this morning, and my sister brought one back from her outing. i listened to some more music and made drafts up until 5:40 when i started collecting black + white/dark blue pics of jaime and chi so i can redesign my homescreen and app icons. i finished after an hour and im super happy with the result. hopefully my favourite colour dosent change again because actually going through every app and changing the icon is boring asf. [photos at end]

i drew a killjoy oc from 7 to literally 12.. it took so long because it was my first time every drawing digitally and i made up their design on the spot. i wasn’t planning on finishing them so i had a break at 9, also. i’m okay with how it came out considering what i just mentioned. i love their ray gun design and i’m obviously yet to give them lore/a proper gang etc. i continued adding text to the drawing and posted a picture of them at 12:30. [the post under this]. at 12:50 i started looking at other peoples killjoy oc’s as i haven’t really done that before. i continued doing that while collecting band/musician gifs along the way until 1:50. i had already been in my parents room for 15-20 minutes but i did my questions about boris around the time just listed.

i did them quite quickly, went downstairs, did my teeth, and started saying goodnight to boris at 2:30. i told him/showed him the things i’ve made today and finished speaking to him at 3:20. i fed him before going into my room and wrapping up this journal. i posted this before going to sleep, but i’ll say i went to sleep at 3:35 and update the actual time in tomorrow’s journal.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions about boris/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he’s okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i’m hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[cerisesakurainspring]

🌷Kiyoko's Daily Logs during the Karasuno-Nekoma Training Camp🌷

From Sportiva x Haikyuu Volume I

May 2

Training camp starts today. Four new members participated in the training camp for the first time.

Hinata 162cm - Middle Blocker

Tsukishima 188cm - Middle Blocker

Kageyama 180cm - Setter

Yamaguchi 179cm - Middle Blocker

Asahi (Wing Spiker), and Nishinoya (Libero) have also returned for the first time in about a month (in good physical good condition) and have started activities as a new team. (Immediate goal is to participate in the Spring High.)

19:30 First day practice ends

19:50 move to training camp

*starting from today we will be living together for 4 nights and 5 days at the training camp (except managers)

20:30 Dinner / Mr. Takeda's special curry (delicious), salad, miso soup

21:30 Return home

Special note: last person to take a bath, don't forget to ventilate.

May 3

7:00 Road work

(1st yr Hinata got lost)

*Hinata —> look around you

Other members should be careful to look after Hinata

10:00 Strengthen receiving, practice all morning

12:00 lunch break

In the afternoon, I went to the supermarket to buy dinner.

Uniform cleaning

Uchizawa cleaning (0B) used

(Receive service coupon)

Special note: washing machine not in good condition

(Need to discuss fees with teacher and club fees)

May 4

Cleaning the club room and equipment room.

Found something usable inside the cardboard

In need of repair. Details will be reported later.

In the afternoon the starting line up for the game against Nekoma was decided. The rotation is left up to Coach Ukai.

○Sawamura ○Hinata ○Tanaka

○Azumane ○Tsukishima ○Kageyama

○Nishinoya

3 regular players from 1st year (expected to improve team performance)

Offensive side > Hinata and Kageyama's strange quick attack

Defensive side > Nishinoya's receives, Coach receiving training

Nekoma Highschool Information:

•A veteran player in Tokyo

•Had frequent practice matches in the past

•Is there a connection with ??

•The decisive battle at the garbage dump????

Special note: Temperature and humidity are rising in May

Deodorizer measures are required in the room (we all are investigating the cause)

May 5

Last night, everyone left the training camp without permission.

*Strict attention

Reason: because of hunger

Measures: Adding a late night snack (under consideration)

Uniform provided at noon

In the afternoon I left early due to feeling unwell.

(The work is left to Mr. Takeda)

Special note: The washing machine is not working properly.

Repairs after the holidays?

May 6

8:50 Gather at Karasuno Sports Park Stadium

9:10 start warming up

10:00 Practice match begins

Karasuno - Nekoma

All three matches (total of 6 sets) were good matches.

•Attack power 5/5

•Connection, receiving

Team completion level - Nekoma is on top

*See scoreboard for match details

Practice match results; improved team morale

Issues clearly identified for each individual (especially first year students) increased attack patterns

This training camp turned out better than expected.

The time it takes to reach your goal is important.

Special note: washing machine cannot be repaired (cause —> Tanaka and Nishinoya)

Consult with teacher regarding future actions.

Text translated online so if some are mistranslated that is why.

This daily log from Kiyoko was interesting and wanted to share it to those who haven't had a chance to read through the light novels yet.

Also, Tanaka and Nishinoya are the troublemakers of the group aren't they??

[jazzycurls]

You belong to me - part 5.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Cheating, angst, hurt & comfort, smut, stalking, and pregnancy (let me know if I missed something)

An: Sorry this took so long you guys, between work and a serious case of writer's block lol... this took way longer than expected. Love you guys, and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 7,613

The ceiling fan circles overhead, emitting a soft hum. Used to the sound by now, Eddie barely notices it as he stares at the cracks forming in his ceiling listlessly. With a heavy sigh, he turns over to check the clock, once again reading the time to be 12:50 in the morning.

You were supposed to have shown up two hours ago. Worry gnaws at him as he chews on his nails. He's called your house numerous times by now to no avail. Not wanting to seem clingy, he held back from racing over to your house after an hour had passed with no word from you.

His telephone rings and he jumps, bumping his knee against the end table. His astray falls to the floor dumping cigarette butts and ashes onto the ground. "Hello!" he yells into the phone.

"Hello to you too handsome," Steve says laughing on the other end.

"Ugh, it's just you. What do you want Harrington, I'm waiting on a call." Holding the phone in between his ear and shoulder, Eddie stoops down to pick up the fallen debris from his astray.

"I just wanted to check in with you. You know, since you've had a stick up your ass lately. I wanted to make sure you were okay," he says, feeling slightly offended at being rushed off the phone.

"I'm okay. Sorry for being an asshole lately. I've just been going through a lot and I took it out on you, sorry for that man." He dumps the ash butts in his hand into the nearby wastebasket, clapping his hands together to dust off the remaining pieces.

"It's okay, no harm no foul." The phone fell silent for a moment before Steve spoke again. "Sooo, who were you waiting to call?" Anyone who knew Steve knew that he could be nosy at times. It was in his nature to want to know everything going on around him, even if it had nothing to do with him.

"Y/n," Eddie replied easily. Unless it was something too personal, he usually didn't mind sharing. He and Steve complimented each other, whereas Steve liked to hear gossip, Eddie tended to overshare sometimes. Though they would never admit it, they often would call each other just to gossip like mother hens.

Steve let out a small hum. "She left work about two hours ago. You sure you didn't miss her call?"

"I'm sure, I've been glued to this spot waiting on her call all night!" Eddie's felt his stomach clench in fear, you should have called by now. Maybe he was jumping the gun but you didn't seem like the type to ghost him.

"Okay, okay, settle down. I'll call Robin and have her go over to her house, I think she lives close to her."

Eddie was already up, pulling on his shoes and jacket. "Fuck that, I can't wait any longer, I'm going to go check myself, thanks." He drops the phone onto his bed not bothering to put it on the receiver, racing out the door and jumping into his van.

It takes him less than 10 minutes to make it to your side of town. Gripping the tattered leather of his steering wheel, he pulls up to the curb in front of your home with a screech. Not bothering to cut the car off as he jumps out of the car, leaving it idling.

His nerves are shot, leaving a jittery feeling in its wake. The windows are dark as he pounds on the front door. After a few minutes pass, he walks around your house, peering into the windows.

He knows that if anyone saw him, they would call the cops with no hesitation. It's the one place he refuses to end up— well that and being stuck in this shit town. But at this moment that was the farthest thing from his mind.

That feeling that something was wrong kept nagging at him and he wouldn't be able to rest until he saw you in person.

After he had walked around your house a few times, he jogged back to the van, hopped into the seat, and began to head toward Family Video. Maybe you had stopped somewhere near your job and had lost track of time or maybe your car had run out of gas and you were stranded.

Countless scenarios run rampant through his mind as his foot pressed down heavily against the gas pedal. The entrance to the trailer park is a blur as he zooms toward the wooded highway. It's a straight shot from your job that would pass by his house on your way home. This road was known for its creepiness at night and he hoped that you weren't stranded on the side of the road somewhere.

Before he could reach the bend up ahead, the flickering of blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror. "Fuck me," he groaned as he reluctantly slowed down and eased to a stop on the side of the road.

Minutes tick by slowly as the officer takes his precious time before stepping out of the vehicle. Eddies lets out an aggravated huff of breath when the officer finally reaches his car.

Letting down his window he greets "something wrong officer?"

The man tips his hat upward revealing himself to be none other than the local town sheriff, Jim Hopper. "Where you going in such a hurry kid?" He places a large calloused hand on top of the roof as he leans through the window, peering around Eddie and looking towards the back of the van.

"I'm looking for someone," Eddie's response is short and clipped. It's not that he doesn't like Jim, to be honest, he liked him as much as he could like an officer of the law. His history with law enforcement was a shaky one. With him being the spitting image of his father and with his extracurricular activities, Eddie felt as if he had been doomed from the start.

With that being said, Jim was the only officer who had judged him on his merit and not his family name. Even though that merit was dead and buried after being busted a few times, he still treated him decent and he was thankful for that.

"Well driving like a bat out of hell won't get you there, it'll only have you in a hospital somewhere or God forbid in a grave. That's the problem with you kids, always rushing off somewhere, never taking time to just relax and enjoy life." Taking a cigarette out of his shirt pocket he quickly lights it and takes a deep inhale before exhaling the smoke into the night air.

"Yes sir," Eddie says in a monotone voice, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. His mind is too wired to focus on what the older man is saying, concern for your well-being is the only thing filling his brain right now.

Jim lets out a sigh at Eddie's response. He takes another drag of his cigarette before flicking it onto the cracked road. His eyes are soft as his gaze settles on Eddie. "Just drive more carefully kid. I don't wanna see another one of you out here tonight, crashed out on the road."

His eyes snap onto Jim's at his words. Ice-cold fear runs through his veins and his hands begin to shake in response. "What are you talking about? Who was out here!" his words are a rushed and jumbled mess as he waits on bated breath for the officer's response.

Jim jumps, startled by Eddie's outburst, before quickly converting back to his usual calm demeanor. "A girl crashed out here earlier," he says shaking his head sadly.

"What was her name," he demands shakily. His thoughts are static as fear takes hold of him, pumping throughout his veins leaving an ice-cold sensation in its wake. 'Please don't be Y/n,' he chants over and over to himself.

"Hmmm. I think it was a young girl last name Y/l/n. Why? Did you know—" His question is cut off abruptly as Eddie quickly puts his car in drive and takes off full speed down the desolate road. "Hey! What the hell," he jumps back from the car. The tire from the van narrowly missing his foot.

Tires screech against the asphalt as Eddie guns it down the highway leaving smoke in his wake. The sound of sirens can be heard behind him but Eddie is no longer in control of his actions. His body is on autopilot, tears streaming down his face as he heads toward the hospital. He's praying, something he hasn't done in a long time that it's not you. Hoping that Hopper had it wrong and that it was someone else. Not you, anyone but you.

He doesn't know how he makes it to the hospital in one piece but he does. Parking in front of the entrance he runs through the entrance at full speed. Unable to come to a stop, his body slams into the front desk, startling the old lady seated there.

She gasps loudly, holding her chest in shock. As her nerves begin to settle she pushes her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose with a pointed look at the young man in front of her. "Can I help you?" she asks cautiously. Sometimes strange people come into the hospital and she's usually the first person they come into contact with, so she's always careful of her interactions with people.

"Y/n L/n! Where is she? I need to see her!" His words tumble out of his mouth breathlessly.

Taking a quick look at the computer screen in front of her, she glances back at Eddie. "Are you a member of the family? I can't give out information if—,"

"Yeah! I'm her family, now where the fuck is she!" he shouts slamming his palm against the counter, attracting the attention of the people seated in the lobby.

"Sir, p-please, calm down and give me a moment so I can find her room number, okay?" Turning towards the computer, she quickly taps away on her keyboard, the glare from the screen reflecting off of her glasses. "3rd-floor, room 211 but you can't—," she trails off as Eddie takes off sprinting towards the elevators.

"Kids these days," she mutters to herself. With a shake of her head, she lets out a shaky breath before turning back to the magazine in front of her.

Unable to wait for the elevator, Eddie takes the stairs, reaching the 3rd floor in seconds. Bursting through the heavy metal door, he glances at the numbered halls as he skirts around the visitors and staff walking the halls.

Soon, he's at your door and he comes to a complete stop, unable to move any further. The chart on the door has your name on it, solidifying that you are indeed in the room.

Not giving himself time to think about it, he pushes the door open. Tears spring to his eyes as he takes in your small frame layered underneath the thin blankets. Shuffling forward he stops at your bedside and takes your hand into his. His gaze takes in the numerous dark bruises marking your swollen features.

"Y/n?" his voice is small, a sharp contrast to his usual boisterous tone. There's no response, only the steady beeps of the machines echoing loudly throughout the room. A choked cry breaks out as he hangs his head down, bending over the rail closer to you as the enormity of the situation hits him. Hot tears run down his face, dropping down onto the white hospital blankets.

He squeezes your hand, trying to find that sense of comfort that being around you normally brings. Your hand is cold to the touch, lying limp within his own. Your body doesn't react as he massages the palm of your hand tenderly.

Regret sits in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about all the time he wasted not being with you, not getting to know you better. He swallows thickly at the raw emotion flowing through him. He hasn't felt a pain like this ever since his mom died and even then he was too young to even process it, choosing to just accept that she was gone and never coming back.

He should've never gotten with Chrissy. He wishes he hadn't been a coward back then and had asked you out before you had moved away. It seems like as soon as you guys stood a chance at being together, life would come, and fuck it all up.

There's a knock at the door bringing him out of his thoughts. After a pause, the door opens and a middle-aged man enters, closing the door behind him. "Hello, I'm Dr. Raymond. Are you the patient's family?"

"Yes, I'm Eddie— her boyfriend," he states with a firm tone. His hands come up and wipe away the fresh tears steadily falling, uncaring that a stranger is seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

The doctor pauses for a moment, taking in the young man's words before continuing. Usually, they would only give information to immediate family but something tells him that the person in front of him wouldn't take that decision lightly.

Looking at his clipboard he starts rambling off medical terms, gesturing towards you briefly. Eddie stands there in confusion, not understanding a single thing he's said.

The doctor looks up in midspeech, realizing that he isn't following. "I'm sorry," he says with a small smile. "Sometimes I forget how hard it can be to understand all of this."

Eddie shakes his head in agreeance and the doctor continues. "Simply put, Y/n has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury. You've probably noticed that she hasn't responded to you being here right? The reason is that at this moment, she is unresponsive. When an injury damages specific parts of the brain, the nervous system sometimes doesn't send normal signals to the body. This can cause a person to fall into a coma." He stops, allowing Eddie to process the information he's given.

Putting on a brave face, he struggles to hold back the emotions threatening to break free. "So does this mean that she's not going to wake up?"

"We're not giving up yet. There's a possibility that she could wake up. However, there's also a chance she might not wake up."

His heart soars at the idea that there's a chance you could wake up. Refusing to think anything differently. "What can I do to help," he asks desperately. If he could do anything to help you, he would definitely do it, no questions asked.

The doctor smiles warmly at the sincere look plastered across Eddie's face. "The most important thing you can do is just be here for her. You can talk or read to her, believe it or not, it helps."

With a surge of hope, Eddie nods in confirmation, looking back over at you with a soft look. "I can do that. If there's one thing I'm good at— it's talking," he replied with a humorless laugh.

The doctor patted him on the shoulder before turning around to head out of the room. He stopped before the door, turning on his heel suddenly. "Gosh, I almost forgot," he says with a smack to his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Eddie's nerves instantly shoot back up at the doctor's words.

"That's the point," he says as Eddie stares at him in confusion. "The baby I mean— the baby's just fine. Although it's still early, it appears your little one will be just fine." His pager goes off and he darts out the door not waiting for a response.

"Baby?" He looks over at you in bewilderment. He stumbles, catching his fall by holding onto the wall for support. His air intake is limited as his breathing comes in deep harsh gasps. His vision begins to swim, and not wanting to pass out near you, he takes a step away from you towards a chair, before crashing onto the ground.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Eddie woke up with a low groan, blinking up at the harsh lights above him. He yells your name, sitting up with a jolt as his memories come rushing back all at once. Looking around the room he notices that he's in an entirely different room than before.

He tries to get up when he realizes that he's cuffed to the bed. "What the fuck? Hey! Let me out here! Heyyyy!!!" Panic quickly rises in him with his sudden predicament. He doesn't know what he did to get handcuffed to the bed and he doesn't care. The only thing that matters is you and the fact that these stupid cuffs are keeping him from you right now.

He yells again as he yanks on the cuffs, causing the metal to bite painfully into his wrist. Just as he's about to start up again the door swings open and enters Hopper.

"Fuuuck," Eddie moans throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Fuck is right," Hopper quips, walking over to the wall and leaning against it.

"I don't have time for this. Y/n needs me!" Tears of frustration begin to slip out the corners of his eyes.

"She's okay— I checked on her after you fainted." Hopper's gaze is steady as he stares at Eddie under the perch of his hat.

"I did not faint," Eddie grits out harshly.

"Sure kid— whatever you say. So, you mind telling me why you ran off like that huh?"

Letting out a sigh Eddie explains who you are to him and how that was the reason why he had reacted toward Hopper last night.

Hopper stood silently, taking everything in as he waited for him to finish. Once he was done he stood still for a moment in contemplation. Never taking his eyes off of Eddie he pushed away from the wall, walking over to Eddie on the bed.

Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches Hopper dig a set of keys from his pocket and unlock his cuffs. Rubbing the bruised flesh on his wrist he hurriedly got up from the bed, making his way over to the door.

"Hey kid," Hopper calls out and Eddie stops in his tracks. "Drive safer next time. You won't do anyone any good if you're laid up in a hospital too."

Nodding his head, he throws a grateful look his way before slipping out the door. In no time he's back in front of your room. He takes a deep breath to steady the flutter of nerves in his stomach. The news of you being in a coma and on top of that you were pregnant had left him in a stupor.

He knew without a doubt that it was his. That must have been the news you wanted to share with him last night. A fresh wave of guilt sets in at the thought of you crashing because you were hurrying to get back and tell him. You had to be at least two months now. He wondered how long you'd known and why you hadn't told him sooner. You must have been so scared of how he would react.

He shook his head, causing his curls to swing wildly. It didn't matter why you didn't tell him, the only thing he cared about right now was you and his baby's health.

With another deep breath, he opens the door to your room, entering silently. An older woman sits near your bed with her head resting in your lap as she wept silently. He stood near the door, not sure what to do next. Her head popped up at the sound of the door clicking shut.

'This must be your mom,' he thought to himself as she looked up at him in confusion. "Can I help you?" She croaked, clearing her throat as she wiped away the tears coating her cheeks.

"Hi— um I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson, I'm Y/n's boyfriend." He knows that you would give him the side eye at the self-appointed title he had given himself but he panicked! He couldn't say you guys were two people who used to fuck each other and that he had fallen in love with you but he wasn't sure if you even felt the same. Shifting from foot to foot he stood nervously waiting for her to respond.

After what felt like an eternity she finally responds "Hello, I'm Y/m/n. I'm sorry but you're her boyfriend? I've never met you," she replied with a soft sniff.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly "Yeah, our relationship is kinda new?" His eyes drift over to you and he couldn't help but move closer to you towards the other side of the bed.

She watches him as he carefully takes ahold of your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles soothingly. The care shown in his movements and the sincerity in his eyes has her deciding right then and there that she liked him. However, she didn't like secrets and she wouldn't make it easy on him.

A knock at the door sounds off abruptly,  causing both heads to turn toward the source of the noise. The door opens and in walks the doctor from yesterday.

"Hello, good morning," he says looking over at Eddie. Turning towards your mom he extends his hand to her "Hi, I'm Dr. Raymond."

"Hello, I'm Y/m/n and L/n, Y/n's mother." She takes his hand and shakes it briefly before dropping it back into her lap. Her hands grip the small pocketbook on her lap nervously as she casts a glance at you. "Doctor give it to me straight. Why is my little girl not waking up?"

He proceeds to explain the same thing that he told Eddie yesterday. That you were in a coma and had sustained severe head trauma but that you had responded well to some of their tests, so they still had hope that you could pull through this. "Mrs. Y/m/n, the best thing to do is, be here for her and let her know that you're here for her. Also, as the pregnancy progresses you can speak to the little one as well. Studies have shown that the fetus responds positively to music and even talking."

"I'm sorry, did you say pregnancy," she whispers, cutting her eyes over to Eddie as he shifts uncomfortably under her cold gaze.

The doctor also begins to get nervous as he notices the shift in her demeanor. "Yes— um, your daughter here is about 9 weeks gestation. The baby is perfectly healthy from what we've seen so far but we'll make sure to keep an eye out for any complications due to your daughter's condition."

Sweat begins to trickle down the nape of Eddie's neck. This was not how he envisioned meeting your mom. He's glad that looks can't kill because if they could he'd be a goner.

"Did you know about this Mr. Munson?" Her stern eyes were locked on his, refusing to allow him to look away.

"No ma'am, I just found out yesterday," he replies with a grimace as he rubs the back of his tender head. "Kinda took me by surprise too."

Pinching the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh, she takes a moment to collect her thoughts. Not only did she just find out that her daughter was in a coma from a car crash but she was also pregnant! She wants to be mad but knows it's not the time or the place. "It's okay— I'm not mad. I'm just surprised is all," she replies a moment later.

"Ma'am, I plan on being here for Y/n and the baby every step of the way," Eddie states firmly,  doing his best to assure her.

"Oh, I know you will, Eddie. I wouldn't allow it any other way." Her tone is icy as a chilling smile settles across her face. "I guess we'll be getting to know each other very well, huh?"

A shiver runs down his back at her words. Nodding his head in agreeance he looks at the doctor who took that as his cue to speak again. Even though he had meant well, sometimes he couldn't read a room and had caused many uncomfortable situations. Clearing his throat he began to explain the next steps moving forward.

All issues pushed aside, momentarily, Eddie and your mom sat silently as they listened to the doctor explain the pending surgeries, treatments, and overall care needed for you and your baby. This was going to be a rough journey and Eddie was determined to be here for you every step of the way.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Eddie hums quietly to himself as he walks briskly up the flight of steps. A habit he's formed over the past few months of taking the stairs to your room other than the elevator. It was just something about being trapped in a confined space that irritated him so he always chose the stairs instead. He had written you a song and couldn't wait to sing it for you.

To be honest he still hasn't really adjusted to you being unresponsive but he still comes to see you every day after school. Some days he comes late at night after work and would just spend the night, sleeping on the small pull-out couch in your room.

On those days when he had to work or had DND, Robin, Steve, or your best friend would come in his place until he was able to get there. It had become sort of a routine, to the point where they had memorized each other's weekly schedules. You had a great support system and he was forever grateful to them for the help they had given him and you.

In no time he makes it to your floor, giving brief nods to somewhat familiar faces along the way. This floor is for long-term care and most of the people who frequent here, have been here for just as long if not longer than you.

Holding the fresh set of flowers against his chest, he opens the door to your room. There you are laying peacefully in your bed. The bruises that coated your face have long since faded leaving a small scar running through your eyebrow.

Eddie was the first to notice the mark, he had commented to your mom how the scar resembled a lightning bolt and how metal that was. After switching the flowers out in the vase on the table with the fresh ones, he quickly crosses the room to you.

"Hey sweet thing," he greets you with a soft kiss. His lips linger on yours as he feels a faint twitch as your body responds to his touch. The first time that happened he had shouted for joy, causing the staff to come barreling through the doors at the commotion.

After examining you and Eddie to make sure he hadn't lost his mind. They had explained to him that sometimes your body would react to certain things and not get his hopes up. Eddie, however, knew that was bullshit, he knew that deep down, wherever your mind was, it was calling out to him and whenever he touched you he hoped that it was bringing you closer to him. So whenever he visited you he would talk to you while brushing your hair or he would sing to you as he massaged your limbs.

His gaze travels down your body stopping at the growing swell of your belly. Pressing his ear against your stomach he places his hand on your lower belly massaging gently. "Daddy's here," he says as he taps rhythmically against your skin covered by the thin blanket.

A sharp kick pushes against his hand in response and he grins "I missed you too angel." Your leg jerks at the movement causing his eyes to turn back toward you. "I think mommy's tired today, so take it easy on her okay?" He presses a sweet kiss to your stomach before turning his attention back to you.

With a smile, he goes through his usual routine of telling you about his day. He sings to you as he rubs your favorite lotion onto your arms and legs, pausing when he sees the subtle shift of your stomach causing your eyelids to flutter. You look so peaceful that he sometimes thinks that you're just playing a joke on everyone and will wake up at any moment.

A sad sigh escapes and he shakes his head in an attempt to war off the negative thoughts. He mentally shakes it off, refusing to think that you won't wake up.

Cuddling up in bed next to you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as his journal rests in his lap. His tongue rests on his top lip as he jots down some new ideas for his campaign. The first time he had climbed into bed with you, he was scolded something furious by your mom and the nurses. They told him that there was simply not enough room to hold the both of you without putting your safety in jeopardy, something Eddie had quickly debunked as he slipped in beside your small frame without disturbing your peace.

The doc was the one who had gone to bat for him, explaining that it might help you to have his presence as close as possible. So by your side was where he laid, unless your mom or dad was there and out of respect, he usually took the seat by your bed instead. Your mom and him had gotten close over the past six months, bonding over the gravity of your situation. Your dad showed up every blue moon, never sticking around long enough for Eddie to get to know him. He imagined that was a song and dance that your dad had perfected throughout your life, never being around to form an actual connection with his loved ones.

A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he slips from the bed, making his way to the door. Whoever was knocking had to be someone who didn't visit often. Most of the regular visitors would knock and just come on in. He wondered briefly who it could be before opening the door.

Surprise spread quickly across his face at the sight of Chrissy standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. "Hi Eddie," she whispers, trying to sneak a look behind him into the room.

Not wanting to let her in just yet, he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. "Chrissy," he replied, glancing at the flowers she held nervously in her grasp.

"How have you been?" she asks cautiously. They hadn't spoken ever since that day in the gym. Whenever she would try and speak to him at school, he would blatantly ignore everything.

"What are you doing here Chrissy?" His tone was short, not in the mood to play any of her mind games.

Taken aback, she pauses, before giving him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I just wanted to check on you and Y/n of course," she adds quickly. "I think it's honorable how you come here every day to visit her."

"There's nowhere else I would rather be," he replies, shrugging his shoulders in response.

Silence ensues as she struggles to come up with something to say. Conversation use to come easy with Eddie and now it's as if they were strangers. Ever since you came along he had all but cast her aside to be with you. The thought still burned her up inside and she wanted nothing more than to go into that room and finish what she had started.

"Well, thank you for coming but Y/n isn't accepting any visitors at this time." Done with the conversation he steps back towards the door putting his hand on the knob.

"Eddie please I— I know that we aren't on the best of terms but I do care," a small smile sits across her face as she holds his gaze imploringly.

His instincts are screaming not to let her in but he can't help but feel that maybe you would want to make amends with Chrissy. Throwing his head back with a loud groan he mutters a short "sure" before turning on his heel, back towards the room. Before he can even step over the threshold, his name is called down the hall.

It's one of the friendly nurses at the nurse's station. They look out for him by letting him pick whatever he wants from the Cafe menu at no charge. His dedication and loyalty to you is something that has caused most of the staff to treat him kindly, despite the usual treatment he receives from his outward appearance.

Glancing back at Chrissy whose hands are held behind her back with the flowers crushed between them. A worried look flashes across his face as he halts mid-step.  

"It's okay, we'll be fine." She says sweetly, crossing her fingers behind her.

"I'll be back, kay?" He gives her a long and wary look before turning and making the trek down the hall.

As soon as his back is turned, the smile drops from her face, replaced with a sinister sneer. Gripping the knob she twists it, causing the door to open. Slipping inside the room, she shuts the door softly and scoffs at her behavior. She doesn't know why she's being so cautious, it's not like you would wake up from the sudden noise.

She cackles at the thought that you might not ever wake up, taking pride in her handiwork, before covering her mouth to stifle the giggles. You might not be conscious to hear her but that doesn't mean nobody else could.

She takes a minute to catch her breath before stalking over to you. The flowers hang limply by her side as she observes your current state. Your face is pale but still somehow holds a natural glow. It's obvious that someone has been taking good care of your appearance for you and the thought of it being Eddie sickens her. Her eyes travel from your face until they stop at the swell of your stomach.

Hot anger pulses through her at the sight of your baby bump. Although the thought of having kids this young didn't appeal to her, the knowledge that you were pregnant with his child made her green with envy.

Taking a step closer to you she rests her hand on your stomach, snatching it back quickly at the sudden movement she feels beneath her hand. The silence of the room presses against her as she's suddenly filled with the urge to end you, once and for all. She's sure that with you gone, her life can return back to normal. Hopeful that these negative feelings threatening to overwhelm her would be gone, once and for all.

She hasn't ever stopped to think that the foreign feelings she constantly feels may be the result of something much deeper than the feud between you two.

Placing one hand on the oxygen tube near your nose, she pinches it, cutting off the flow of circulation. The beeps of the machines start to rise as your heart rate accelerates steadily. She can see a slight movement beneath the lids of your eyes but other than that, you still show no signs of reaction.

She begins to wonder just how long this will take when a series of noises begin to sound off as the machines send off alerts of your distress. Your heart rate is dropping and before she can take joy in that, she hears footsteps running down the hall towards the room. She keeps ahold of the tube, wanting to be sure this time, when she sees a dark wet spot spreading over the blankets where your hips lay.

Before she could get a grasp on what that even meant, the door swung open, slamming into the wall behind it with a loud smack. Yanking her hand back she looks behind her to find Eddie glaring at her with an accusatory stare.

"What the hell did you do!" he shouts as he rushes to your side, knocking Chrissy out of the way.

"Nothing! I was just standing here!" she yells back. She drops her gaze at the intensity of his eyes on her, while creeping towards the door.  

A flood of medical staff fills the room and just as she is about to make her exit, her eyes meet Eddie's. His eyes are dark and cold, filled with silent rage as he stares her down. He doesn't know what happened but he's willing to bet that whatever it was had been Chrissy's fault.

She leaves the room not turning back. "Good riddance," Eddie thinks as he turns back towards you. Concern and worry are etched deep into his face as Doctor Raymond and several nurses check your vitals.

One nurse takes note of the wet spot on the bed, mentioning it aloud to the doctor. Eddie looks on, feeling helpless as he watches the doctor take his place at the end of the bed, lifting the sheet. He mentions something about checking a cervix but he has no clue what that means.

With a sense of urgency, the doctor begins firing off orders sending the nurses scrambling. "Doc! What the hell is going on?? What'd happening??!!" Eddie's hand holds onto yours tightly but is still delicate in a sense. It gives him a small sense of peace as he tries desperately not to freak out.

"She's dilating and I believe she's having contractions which would explain the spikes in her heart rate. Plus her water broke which is always a sign that the baby is coming," he answers while scooting past Eddie, to maneuver the bed, causing you to sit up slightly.

"But I'm not— I mean, they're not ready yet. She's only 8 months and she still isn't awake yet," he yells, grasping the lapels of the doctor's coat with his free hand. His eyes are big and wet as he struggles to keep ahold of his emotions.

The doctor's look is one of pity as he stops what he is doing to try and calm the young man down. "The baby is coming whether we want her to or not. Be strong you got this." He sets his hands atop Eddie's shoulders giving them a firm squeeze.

"But what about Y/n? Will she be okay," he asks in a small voice, sick with the thought of what this is doing to you.

Uncertainty is written across the man's face. "I'm not sure, medically speaking this could cause even more trauma to her body." He turns back towards you as the nurses begin to prep you for delivery. "But off the record, I believe that Y/n is strong enough to overcome this. She's made great progress over the last couple of months."

His words quell the fear coursing through him and with a look of resolve he grips your hand firmly with his. He whispers words of praise into your ears, praying that you can hear him. Soon your mom hurries into the room, taking her place on the other side of the bed. Your best friend and dad sit in the waiting room as your body attempts to deliver your baby naturally.

Hours pass as the team of doctors and nurses oversee the delivery, while also staying out of the way to not overcrowd the room. Eddie stands in the same spot, not having moved an inch since everything started. Not trusting that something terrible won't happen as soon as he leaves.

He takes a small towel handed to him by a nurse as he wipes the thin layer of sweat coating your brow. "Doing so good baby," he says, pressing a small kiss between your brow.

The high pitch beeping of monitors takes his attention from you towards the foot of the bed where the doctor sits perched on a stool. "Alright everyone, it's showtime." His head disappears underneath the high tent of the sheet where your legs sit perched with the assistance of your mom and a nurse.

His heart thunders in his ears as he waits on bated breath. A small twitch against his hand catches his attention immediately. He whips his head towards you, noting the faint look of pain on your face. If he hadn't spent the past few months staring at you incessantly, he wouldn't have caught it.

"Sweetheart— can you hear me?" He says, feeling small petals of hope bloom in his chest. He signals to your mom who looks at you with a hopeful expression.

The look of distress grows deeper and deeper until finally, a tiny cry fills the room suddenly. Eddie's gaze snaps towards the sound as he sees the doctor hand off a small bundle to the nurse, who rushes off to a small station to clean the baby off and suction out any fluid from the baby's airways.

At that moment a loud hoarse cry fills the room, bouncing off of the walls, and sending echoes down the hall. All eyes are on you as your eyes spring open.

"Baby!" Eddie says in a soft voice filled with joy. He doesn't want to scare you with any loud noises but he can't help the onslaught of feelings coursing through him right now. His eyes begin to water as his emotions began to get the better of him. Your eyes meet his and it feels as if a piece of him falls back into place.

"Who are you?" you ask as tears leak out the corners of your eyes.

Dread fills Eddie from head to toe as he realizes that you don't recognize him. You try and snatch your hand away from his but your body is too weak to do so. Eddie knows he should give you space but he can't bring his body to cooperate.

Your mom speaks up, laying a kiss on your forehead "Hi sweetie, mommy's here and so is Eddie." Her eyes flit over to Eddie's with a look of pity as you don't react to his name.

The nurse appears at Eddie's side with a small bundle wrapped in a pink and white blanket. "Here you go dad," she says with a small smile.

The frown on his face is replaced with one of adoration as he stares at the baby lying in his arms. Any doubts he may have had are quickly dispelled at the sight of his daughter. Black curls peek out from under the pink-striped hat on her head. Deep brown eyes stare curiously back at him as he looks at her in awe. She's a perfect mix of you both, the best parts of both of you.

"Hey princess, I'm your daddy, and this is your mommy," he says in a sweet tone. Eddie turns toward you and his eyes meet yours again. Uncertainty clouds your eyes as you look from him to the baby in his arms.

You don't know what's going on but something inside you tells you that this is right. That this is your family, even if you can't remember the strange man in front of you or the fact that you had been pregnant. "Can— can I hold her?" you wince at the strain the words have on your throat.

"Of course sweet— I mean Y/n." Eddie catches himself before the pet name falls from his lips. He leans over you slightly as he places her into your arms gently.

His fingers rub against your arms softly as he moves away and it feels as if lightning is coursing through you. You ignore it for now and focus on the baby lying against you. Her eyes are big and brown, an exact copy of the boy next to you. Warmth spreads in your chest as a feeling of love begins to overwhelm you.

Eddie looks at you both with tears streaming down his cheeks. He feels a slew of emotions, the main ones are a sense of joy and sorrow at the irony of it all. He had prayed every night for you to wake up and when you did, the fact that you didn't remember him anymore hurt worse than when you were in the coma. At least then he had hope that you two could be together again someday but now that seemed impossible.

He looks over to you again and your eyes meet. You stare into his eyes, holding his gaze with a small smile painted across your lips. He feels so much love for you at that moment and although he may not know what tomorrow will bring, he knows for sure that he will never leave your side again, no matter what. He vows that he will do whatever it takes to protect you both.

Taglist: @bibieddiesgf @tlclick73 @seventhlevelofhell @emmysuebull22 @adequate-superstar @vintagehellfire @sidthedollface2 @blue-eyed-lion @hazydespair @fly-on-the-wall @nicolaj1978 @sinczir @starrywhitenight @merciiss @hanahkatexo @kellysimagines @hargrovesswifee @simp4rengoku @igglepiggle22 @isimpforeveryonee @urdad-hot @thikkiesixx @billyhargrovesfuturewife @sammararaven @yogizzz @micheledawn1975 @munsonenthisiast @kissmejoey @klea221 @ms1oftheboys @whoahoney @foreveranexpatsposts @maysrains @alanamarie @emmalee-01 @kaitebugg03 @angel-jz @hereforshmut

[dishushu]

i remember it, all too well.

42!miles g morales x reader

summary: you've been dating someone for a year and slowly you realize they've become distant. barely texting you, not showing any admiration, always out clubbing. until you went to their place and see something unspeakably wrong, you snap and they try to come back to you. months later, still broken. you met miles and you two become very close. one day you see them again and you can remember the memories all too well.

warnings: super angst (fluff in the end of COURSE) cursing, bad spanish (i’m so sorry y’all😭) creepy ex bro, cheating.

a/n: WHOOP i started listening to atwtmv for like a 100 times and it gave me the idea to write this (all hail taylor swift!!) this is gonna be so angsty i swear like im so sorry yall 😭 but lemme tell y’all i swear 42 miles has rizz i’m not lying

words: 2.2k

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

your life was pretty fine the past few months since you’ve met your partner.

they were, everything you wanted. they loved you to the moon and back and you said the same thing too.

but a year passed and things started to change, drastically.

they stopped paying attention to you, stopped hanging out with you, was always on their phone and most of all, always went clubbing.

you’d be at your place and it was around 12:45 in the morning, he was supposed to come by.

the first thing that came up to your mind was text him, they were probably busy anyway?

…..

love&lt;3

12:46 am

y/n: babe, wru? you were supposed to come to my place an hour ago.

seen 12:48 am.

y/n : hello?

seen 12:50 am.

……

you sighed, tossing your phone to the side of the bed as u curled up in ball, thinking why they left you on seen.

you decided to go check up on them yourself, so you put your shoes on and walked over to his apartment.

you knocked on their door, seemingly waiting for an answer, there was none.

so you opened the door which was seemingly unlocked, and scanned around the room, calling out their name.

when you heard loud music from his room.

you knocked but there was no answer as you thought the music was drowning your knock so you opened it.

and oh boy were you in for a surprise.

you dropped your purse on the floor as you stood there as if you saw a ghost, but instead you saw them making out with someone else.

“so that’s how shits going huh.” you said bluntly with tears in your eyes as your words jolted both of them up and your partner turned to look at you.

“it’s not what it seems like bab-“ they were protesting, pushing the other person away and walking to you but you cut them off and pushed them away.

“there’s nothing to fucking explain!” you screamed. “its all right infront of me, dont even bother.” you said as the tears flowed out of your eyes, looking away.

“please love im sorry i- just- give me another chance” they tried to grab your hands and you pulled away quickly.

“so you just can call me up again just to break me like a fucking promise huh? i expected better from you.” my voice cracked at every word as i walked away and slammed the door shut.

i was home, on the floor. in a ball of sadness. tears, snot, everything flowing out. while they kept texting me.

…..

unknown number.

1:15 am

un: babe please

un: please im sorry

un: i won’t do it again

un: forgive me

seen 1:20 am.

…..

you knew damn well he was lying so you blocked the number, shutting off your phone and sliding it across the room.

that day, your whole heart broke, you never felt anything anymore, love was completely just a game to you

but do you think everything will change soon?

it was your usual day. wake up, get ready for work, walk, get to work and actually work.

you worked at the cashier in some convenience store.

you’d felt numb and dull the past few weeks and didn’t really have the motivation to do anything, but you had to so you did. but you just remember everything all too well.

you were doing your job as normal and nothing around changed honestly, it was just your average normal day until someone came in that caught your eye.

it was a boy about your age, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweater, the way his jawline stands out and his braids touching his shoulders.

you thought he was cute but you shook off your feelings and went on with your day.

you noticed he was catching a few glances from you, you thought of it as nothing when he paid normally and went out the store.

but he kept coming back to the store every single day for the whole week and you two start to talk a bit more, but not your actual huge conversations.

but this one time. he was in the store picking up a few stuff and bringing it to the counter.

you scanned the items as you put it in a paper bag,

“15.44.” you told him the price.

“keep the change.” he said giving you a 20 and his spanish accent had you rolling on the floor (metaphorically).

you mumbled a thank you as he walked out, you were going to put the 20 in the cash box but suddenly, you saw a note attached to it.

* xxx-xxx-xxxx, my number. text me soon hermosa. - miles:) *

you were shocked to the brim as u held the paper in hand profusely blushing as you started to smile a bit.

did a guy just really give his number out to you?

you kept the note in your pocket, still blushing and went on with your day. until you came back home

you held the note in your hand again, still contemplating if you should put the number in your phone.

you did it anyway.

as you shakily typed the number in your phone, you added his name in the contact number and pressed the message button.

…..

miles(?)

10:05 pm.

y/n: hello?

*minutes pass by and you were doubting a message back from him. but your phone dinged.*

miles(?): hey

*you were shaking in your bed as you saw his reply.*

y/n: you’re miles right?, the guy from the store?

miles(?): the one and only. miles(?): and you’re…?

y/n: sorry.. i’m y/n

miles(?): nice name ;)

*at that point you were shocked by the little winky face he put*

y/n: the same goes to you :)) y/n: so.. weird question but why’d you give me your number?

miles(?): just thought you were cute.

*his reply literally had you in shambles and you didn’t know what to reply with but it hit you. it could be your ex’s friend again trying to get on you for breaking up with them.*

y/n: are u sure? because i swear to god if you’re one of my ex’s friends trying to shit on me for breaking up w them i will literally murder you.

miles(?): i swear, i don’t know who your ex is. but are you okay though?

*i sighed in relief, knowing that they stopped doing it.*

y/n: yeah, sorry i’m just paranoid. y/n: i gotta go, talk to you soon?

miles(?): alright, see ya soon hermosa.

……

you closed your phone and start to smile, but it feels like everything that went down happened was only yesterday, time won’t fly for you. it’s like your paralyzed in your own heartbreak.

you lay down in your bed, thoughts drowning in you as you start to fall asleep.

days turn to weeks and you and miles start to become closer friends. and you wouldn’t deny to admit that you liked him, ALOT.

but you never told him. you were scared of commitment ever since it happened.

you never told him, you never bothered to say anything because he never asked you and you were fine with it. until one day.

you both were on the rooftop at his place laughing about anything and everything, talking about what happens.

until he asks a question.

“so, that day, the day you first messaged me about your ex’s friends shitting on you for what happened, whyd you think i was one of them?” he looked at the stars slyly, glancing at you at times.

“well.” you sighed, fiddling around with your fingers,

“i didn’t know who his friends were, so they would come around at work, giving me their number and i would text them obviously and they would always tell me i was cute or something but the next second they just shit on me saying mean stuff and i kinda just couldn’t trust anyone after that.”

he looks back down to look at you , with an apologetic look on his face, when he went to scoot a bit closer to you.

“can i ask what happened?” he asked as his hand was slightly touching yours as you looked at the stars.

“we were happy for a year, everything was fine but they grew distant. they stopped talking to me and always went to clubs and came back home drunk. they seemed off for so long and i went to their place and saw them making out with someone else and i just kinda lost it, because they did this twice and i lost my shit at that point, i haven’t felt love ever since. i just kinda lost motivation, i really want my old self but i just can’t seem to find it.” tears filled your eyes to the brim as i told him everything.

as the tears start to flow out, he hugged you tightly and rubbed your back. “lo siento mucho querida.” he whispered.

“you did nothing wrong okay? it was all them.” he hugged you tighter.

as he pulled back from the hug, wiping the tears from your eyes.

it was silent for a moment after he pulled away.

“i could change that.” he spoke up after the brief silence that filled between us.

you locked at him surprised, “what.. do you mean?”

“you said.. you would never feel love again right..?” his words were soft when he spoke.

you nodded slowly as you turn to look at him looking at the stars.

“well, i could change that.” his head lowered down to look at you but you looked away.

“how will i know you end up the same as they did?” you looked down looking at your knees when you felt his hand grab your chin and pull you in closer for a kiss.

you were shocked at first but then you slowly melt in to the kiss, finally realizing he was the one.

as he pulled away, he held your hand tightly. “i promise i won’t break your heart mi amor.” he whispered. "ill give you the world, the stars if possible, anything for you."

you felt this wave of love you’ve never felt before and it made you feel full, you went to hug him tightly as you never wanted to pull back

“i love you, miles.”

“te quiero también, mi amor. más de lo que sabes.”

after that day, you and miles started dating and it was nothing like you experienced before.

it was always flowers here, flowers there and he was just a straight up gentleman to you.

you just closed up your shop early tonight to go on your first date with miles, and when you both were walking there, you bumped into someone and both crash to the ground.

“oh my god im so sorr-“ you were frantically picking up their stuff to give it back and when you both look at eachother, you stopped talking. it was your ex.

everything, every single memory of you both flowed down your mind and you remembered it all too well.

“amor are you okay?” miles bent down to check on you when he noticed you giving a dirty glance at your ex, and it hit him.

“yeah i’m fine let’s just go.” you tried to stand up but your ex’s hand pulled you back down and restraining you from standing up.

“what the fuck do you want?” you screamed and it grabbed miles attention.

“please, im sorry i didn’t mean it can things just go back the way it was?” he protested and was on their knees begging you to stay

i pulled my hand out of his grip as we both stood up “i already told you, a million fucking times, no.”

“please i’m sorry, i- i was drunk and i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“so you’re telling me, those both times you were drunk and you weren’t thinking straight? those both times you fucking cheated on me and you weren’t thinking straight? you choosing pleasure over our goddamn relationship and you weren’t thinking straight? you could’ve thought for a SINGLE moment, will this affect my relationship? of course it fucking will you asshole. get out of my sight.” you stood back up and walked opposite where your ex was, but they wouldn’t stop and grabbed your hand again.

“just forgive me plea-“ he was about to get on his knees but miles stood infront of you and grabbed their arm tightly so they could release your arm

“back up bro, y/n already told you they don’t want you. don’t make it harder for us. one step closer and you’re gone got it?” miles let go of his hand as a warning and they nodded and ran away and miles turned to you.

“are you okay querida? you aren’t hurt anywhere are you?” he put his arms on your shoulders, scanning your body for any wounds.

“i’m okay, just a bit shaken up." you sighed, fixing your clothes.

miles was genuinely worried about you and you told him everything's fine as long he was with you.

"i'm so sorry amor that they keep doing that to you." he grabbed yout waist and pulled you in a hug.

"you know ill protect you always right?" he pulled away from the hug.

"promise?" you held out your pinky for a pinky promise and smiled softly.

"promise querida." he took his pinky and hooked it with yours and shook it softly and pulled you in another hug.

although you still remember all the heartbreaking memories all too well, you had him and that was enough for you.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

© hearts4hobie.

do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission.

[pastelavender88]

Sinbound- Chapter 11

Summary: It’s been a month since the events of the last chapter: Eddie and Buck are on the outs and Buck’s family is back in town; Something major happens to Y/n.

Warning: Talks of miscarriage.

Series Masterlist

It’s been a month since Eddie and I broke up. It was touch and go for a while. The night of the breakup I asked for 2 hours. It doesn’t take 2 hours to basically pick up your whole life. Alex and I took all our clothes and toiletries but we still had to come back and get the rest of our things. I decided it would be best to leave all the baby’s stuff there, but excluding that I still had a ton of things. Bobby and Athena served as the buffer between Eddie and I. Athena would text me to tell me that Bobby told her Eddie and Christopher would be out of the house from 12-4 pm and stuff like that. Eddie and I still haven’t spoken since that night even though he tried. He gave me a good 2 days before he was blowing up my cell and trying to talk and work things out, but I was serious when I meant Eddie and I were done. The betrayal still keeps me awake at night if I let my mind wander enough and the events starting on the night in question and the big blow up play in my head like a movie. Alex and I moved in with Buck for the time being while I figured out the next step in our lives. Buck was more than happy to welcome us and he’s been accommodating in any way he can. He’s been going with me to my doctor appointments, driving me around a lot since I’ve gotten a little bigger and lazier to do it myself, and even taking a parenting class with me. Even though I had Alex already a lot of things have changed in the last 12 years.  Speaking of all the things Buck is doing for me, Eddie is quite pissed at him because of it. Also, the fact that Buck is the one that told me about Eddie’s infidelity. So everything has been quite an adjustment. It was morning and Buck was off today so that meant family breakfast. Which was really more me cooking whatever I was craving and everyone being too lazy to complain or make anything else. Today was chicken, waffles, spicy syrup, bacon, eggs, and french toast. (Don’t judge but I craved this my whole pregnancy.) Buck came down from the room and sat at the table. The reason I call it the room is because technically it’s both Buck and I’s room. See Buck only has two rooms in his loft but the other room is Alex’s and it’s not exactly big enough to share. So Buck and I share the room in the sense that both of our things are there like clothes, shoes, jewelry, little things like that. Buck did buy a couch though, so that way he has something to sleep on. Right now Buck was trying to convince me to go with him and Alex to pick up his parents later. “They would love to see you. I mean it’s been over a year since they last saw you.” “Yeah and since then I got knocked up and then left a single mom. Again.” “True, but you look really cute pregnant and they haven’t seen this glow.” He said, as he pointed his fork at me. “That may be the case but seriously I’m not up for that yet.” Buck could tell my mood was becoming somber, so he let it go. “Alright. Did I tell you guys what happened yesterday at work? Some guy’s kids buried him in the sand and splashed water on him when a freak flash of lightning hit and turned the sand into glass. It was insane.” “Buck I’m trying to eat.” “Mom, that's actually really cool and mother nature at work. What did that guy say in that really old dinosaur movie ‘life always finds a way’. Life is science.” “Did she just call Jurassic Park a really old movie?” I asked Buck. I turned to Alex. “That movie came out the year I was born for your info.” “How do you think I feel? I’m older than you by two years.” Buck joked. The conversation kept flowing from there and eventually it was time to clean up and start the day. Since the break up with Eddie I haven’t really been writing much so my day usually centers around Buck and Alex. I felt like a 50’s housewife. After making sure everyone had everything they needed for their day I would tidy the house, wash dishes, do laundry. It was a feminist nightmare but I was so numb I didn’t really care. I’ve been seeing a therapist but it didn’t help as much as I thought it would. Most people describe therapy as this life-altering interaction but for me it felt like when you were called to the guidance counselor in school about bullying or something. Like I was put on the spot. Don’t get me wrong there was improvement but I just didn’t feel satisfied or “fixed” in a sense. We dived into my relationship issues a lot and I understand what Eddie was saying. The “relationship” that Buck and I had while Eddie and I were still together was emotional cheating, which proved my point. We were bad for each other. Eddie and I both rushed into this relationship after commitment issues on both sides, so we were destined for doom. Either way the pain inside of me from his affair with Ana wasn’t going away because I know that what I did didn’t warrant that. Instead of breaking it off or establishing clear boundaries, Eddie decided that cheating was the best route. So here I am feeling like less than a person over a toxic relationship we both should have some coming to an end. Buck’s POV Since Y/n didn’t want to come with me I was forced to suffer with my parents alone. It was worth it since Albert was there. “Uh, Albert, hey, check this out.” I showed Albert Y/n’s ultrasound picture. It was so cool to be a part of this process and I couldn’t help but show it off. “You brought more than takeout.” Albert replied, “Well, uh, Chimney didn't tell you?” “Yeah, that I've been gone less than a year and you're a father again? No.” God I hope my parents didn’t hear that. “Uh, no, not-not exactly.” “But that's a…” Albert started. “Baby. Buck...?” My mom was suddenly standing behind me. “Is there something you need to tell us? You're gonna be an uncle again!” My mom shouted as she jumped to conclusions. “Phillip! Maddie and Howard are gonna have another baby!” My mom yelled as she went to hug Chimney. “What?” Chim asked, confused. “That's fantastic! I had a feeling when you bought this house.” My dad replied. “I mean, it's a little soon to be pregnant again, but... Why not?!” Mom said. “This is very good news, Howard. Why didn't you tell us sooner? “ Chimney’s stepmom asked. “Uh, guys... Guys, we're... not pregnant.” He said. “You're not?” Mom asked. “No.” “Then who is?” Mom asked as she turned to me. “That’s what I was trying to say. Y/n is pregnant again. It’s a girl.” “You and Y/n are having another baby?” My dad asked. “No, mom is having a baby with Eddie.” Throughout all the confusion, everyone forgot Alex was sitting at the table on her tablet. “But, they're not together anymore so we're living with dad.” “Okay, let’s not deepdive into it. Give your mom some privacy.” When we got home it was time for a talk about privacy. “So Y/n and living with you while she’s pregnant with another man’s baby?” My dad asked. “And you’re going to help raise the baby?” “It's not like that. We’re not together, I’m just helping her while she figures a few things out. Also, if she wants of course I’ll help raise the baby but we haven’t thought that far ahead. We’re taking things day-by-day.” The way everyone except Maddie, Chimney, and Alex were looking at me I could tell they had a lot to say. “I think it's…” My mom started. “Here we go. “ I knew I was about to get an earful. “Great.” She finished. That shocked me. “Uh, yeah?” “You’re a wonderful father to Alex and I know if you need to be you’ll be a wonderful father to this little girl as well.” Dad replied. “Not only are you a good father but you’re a good man.” My mom said as she stepped towards me for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her. “Here. Dad, you want to see?” I said showing him the sonogram “Oh, absolutely.”  He said as he took the phone from me. “Phillip. You are going to allow this?” Howie’s dad asked. “It's not really for me to allow.” Dad replied. “A man cannot raise a child fathered by another man, it's unnatural.” Howie’s father reiterated. “Says the expert in child-rearing, huh? I would think you would relate to Buck's decision. Father them and let someone else raise them.” “Howie.” Albert explained. “Whoa, Chim. It's-it's okay.” I said. “A man who cannot control his family is not a man.” Howie’s dad added to already building tension. “Maybe a man who's too controlling forces his sons to hide from him in another country.” My dad fired back. “Okay, easy. Come on, Dad.” I said. “Children need to learn that actions have consequences.” “I'm sorry, but how is any of this your business?” my mom asked Howie’s dad. “He did announce it to everyone.” Albert’s mom said. ‘Well, that wasn't exactly my choice.” I said, making it clear. “It was a bad choice.” “My dad helping out my mom wasn’t a bad choice, you’re just mean.” Alex called out. “Alex. Honey, you can not talk to adults like that.” “See this is exactly what I am talking about. Your child has no manners and you plan to raise another?” “Oh, that's rich.” My dad replied yet again, kicking everything off. Everyone started to argue until due to a storm the lights went out.   “Buck, grab some candles, we got the doors”. Howie called me. As mom played with Jee and Alex, Maddie and I talked. “I think maybe Albert was right.” I said to Maddie. “Oh, I wouldn't say that out loud.” “Ever think about what it might've been like...?” “What?” “If Daniel had lived.” I asked her. “Yeah, sometimes.” “You?” Just then the lights came back on and everyone was relieved. “I think it would've been just like this.” Y/n’s POV (Think of this happening at the same time as Buck’s) I was sitting on the couch after cleaning when I heard a knock on the door. “Did you forget your key or something Buck?” I swung open the door and there stood Eddie. I crossed my arms and clenched my fists tight. The nerve he had to show up here. “What are you doing here Eddie?” “I’m here to talk to you. You haven’t spoken to me in a month. At least not without a third party being involved. I haven’t gone to any of your appointments since then.” “You barely went before so what’s the difference?” “Y/n, how long are we going to do this? Huh? Are we gonna be those parents that drag their kids through hell?” “Don’t do that. I can’t do this right now.” “So when are we going to do this? Talk things out?” “I don’t know Eddie. It’s only been a month.” “We need to talk about this.” “No. I need time. Time away from you. I’ll tell you when I’m ready to talk to you.” I went to shut the door on Eddie but he put his hand there to stop it. “I miss you Y/n. Christopher missed you.” “I miss Christopher too. He’s more than welcome over here, because you’re pissed with Buck you won’t let him over here.” Eddie was quiet. “Eddie, I want to move forward but I need to do it at my own pace. The way you’re behaving isn’t helping.  I mean I feel like you aren’t even sorry.” “I am sorry. I will always be sorry for what I did. Not only because I hurt you but because I destroyed everything we built when I did it. I’m so sorry Y/n.” “I hear you Eddie I do, but I still need time. Okay?” “Alright. I’ll go. I love you y/n.” I still loved Eddie but I didn’t know if I was in love with him anymore. “Goodbye, Eddie.” Time went on and eventually Buck came home. “Hey, where’s Alex?” “She’s spending the night at Maddie and Chim’s house.” “I thought the house wasn’t done and what clothes is she going to wear?” “Our daughter is a sneaky one. She put her clothes in my truck along with a sleeping bag. How am I supposed to say no to that?” “I’m sure it’s really easy but she’s got you wrapped around her finger.” “Yeah, she does.” Buck came and sat down beside me on the couch. “So it’s just the two of us tonight, what are we doing? “I was thinking of doing something a little risky…” “Oh really?” “Oh yeah.” “How risky we talking?” “Oh you know, I’m gonna change and slip into something a little more comfortable, and then…” “Then what?” “We’re gonna eat so much ice cream our guts explode and watch trashy reality tv.” “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Buck said. We’d always had that joking relationship that could be borderline sexual but now that we actually live together the sexual part was definitely a no-no. “I’ll be back.” I went upstairs to change. “What kind of ice cream we doing tonight, Rocky road or fudge?” “Ooh, let’s do a rocky road tonight.” I started to change when I felt a warm sensation in my pants. I looked down at my now ruined pants and noticed blood. I carefully rushed down the stairs. Buck was facing away from me but heard me come down the stairs. “You changed already, that was fast.” He turned around and saw my expression. “What’s the matter?” “I’m bleeding.” I could tell Buck wasn’t catching on to what I was saying. “Like down there.” Buck became a panicked nervous mess. “Oh my god! Okay. Let me grab my shoes and my keys and we’ll throw you in the car.” Before I could say anything he darted off. He looked around the front door and then made his way into the living room. “Where are my shoes? Where are my keys?” “Buck calm down. Your keys are on the hook and your shoes are in the room. I’m gonna put on a pad and change, while I’m doing that, call Dr.Manning.” “Alright.” I went into the room changed and put on a pad in case of more bleeding. When I came back down, Buck was waiting on me. “Dr.Manning is going to meet us at the hospital.” “Okay.” We made our way downstairs and got into the car when I realized I forgot to call Eddie. I went to reach my phone and couldn’t find it. “Buck, can you call Eddie? I left my phone inside the loft.” “Yeah of course.” Buck called Eddie but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey Eddie, I’m taking Y/n to the hospital to see Dr.Manning. Call me back when you get this,” He hung up and turned towards me. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?” “No, I'm doing okay, just the bleeding.” I was trying to keep a leveled head but my mind was racing. It was going to places I didn’t want it to go. “You know when I was pregnant with Alex I had a scare kind of like this. I was in the hospital for 2 days. They said her heart rate was low and there was a chance I could lose her. What if I lose this baby Buck?” My tears were threatening to spill from my eyes. Buck grabbed my hand and caressed it.“Don’t think like that. We’re going to see Dr.Manning and she’s going to tell us that that beautiful baby girl of yours is okay and whatever is happening is probably normal, okay?” “Okay. Thanks Buck.” “Of course.” He said as he kissed my hand. Buck and I arrived at the hospital where Dr.Manning was waiting. She ushered us into the ultrasound room and began to take a sonogram. “Okay, let’s take a look.” She moved the wand around and I saw how she squinted at the screen. “Here’s the baby right here. Let’s hear this heartbeat.” She moved over and I heard her heartbeat. It sounded good or at least I think. “That’s a strong and healthy heart beat right there.” I let out a relieved breath. She moved the wand around more until she stopped at this big blob. “Okay, here’s the problem. You’re suffering from Placenta previa. It’s when the placenta completely or partially covers the opening of the uterus. How bad was the bleeding?” “If I was on my period I would say it’s a light flow.” “And are you still bleeding now.” “No, I don't feel anything.” “I’m gonna keep you here for the rest of the night and monitor everything. In the morning I’ll let you know whether or not you’ll be discharged. Let me just say since it’s your second child it’s more than likely gonna resolve itself. What’s your birthing plan?” “I planned on doing a vaginal birth.” “Okay. We’re going to do more appointments than usual and if this resolves itself we can go ahead with that plan. If not we’re going to have to do a c-section delivery. Okay?” “Alright.” “Dad is more than welcome to stay if he would like. I’m going to make sure a room is prepared and ready for you. Let me know if you need anything.” I didn’t feel like correcting her about Buck in any way. “Okay.” She departed the room and Buck and I sat there almost as if we were waiting on the other person to say something first.” “Do you want me to stay with you?” Buck said, breaking the silence. “Only if you’d like to.” “Of course I would. Do you want me to go home and get anything?” “No I’m okay. It’s just for the night right?” “Right.” Soon a nurse came and brought us to the room we would be staying in for the night and we got comfortable. Sometime throughout the night the anxiety left me and before I knew it I was asleep. I was awoken by a nurse and Dr. Manning coming in. Buck was already awake. “Good morning. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. Just nervous to be honest.” “Well I have good news, we found nothing concerning while monitoring you over night so that means you can go home. We’ll be having more frequent visits but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.” “That’s great thanks doc.” Buck replied. “Just doing my job, but this does mean a few things. No moderate or strenuous exercise, heavy lifting, standing for long periods of time and sadly no sexual intercourse or sexual activity that could lead to orgasm. At least until the baby is born.” I wanted to dig a hole so deep and crawl in it. “Any followup questions?” “Nope, I’m good. You got any, Y/n?” Buck replied with a grin. “She’s covered everything. Thanks, we’ll be out of your hair now.” Dr. Manning said her goodbyes to us, leaving alone to brew in the awkwardness. “No sex until the baby gets here. Well I guess there’s no point in you living with me anymore.” I believe that was Buck’s bad attempt at a joke. “Haha, so funny. Besides it’s mostly if the issue doesn’t resolve itself I think.” I don’t know why I answered like it was a serious possibility. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.” I quickly made my way out of the room in order to avoid talking about this any further.

[maliciousblog]

Teacher Yuta

As Mr. Nakomoto was doing his morning rounds.

He spotted you by the water fountain, hiking your skirt up.

He took a second to admire your thighs, he wondered what it would be like to run his hands up and down those thighs, what it would be like to liter them with kisses and beautiful little hickeys to mark you as his.

Oh how he longed to have you.

He was rudely awoken from his fantasies by the bell.

He watched you as you ran to class and smirked to himself.

You had managed to stir something in him that he himself didn't know existed.

He walked into class only to notice you flirting with that little brat Henry.

God how he hated that boy.

He hated the way you laughed at his jokes.

He hated the way you looked at him, like a lovesick puppy.

He wanted to snap the poor boys neck in half every time he caught Henry's hand brush past your skin.

He slammed his books down on the desk, startling the class and successfully shutting them up.

"Get your books out page 169"

As an hour passed and class came to an end

Yuta decided to hand out the papers he had graded.

One by one he called out the students and watched as they exited class with their papers.

Last one up was y/n

Kim y/n  12/50. He eyed the paper and then you.

Tsk "I made the test easy and you still couldn't get a passing score dumb bitch".

You were taken aback by his comment.

Something about him changed. You couldn't quite tell what it was. There was just something dark in his eyes or maybe you were imagining things cause everyone had left and now it was only the both of you.

He walked up to your desk and slammed the paper down causing you to flinch.

"Are you even listening to me"

You nod your head, trying to hold back the tears.

You never knew what you did wrong, you managed to score good grades in every class but his.

He was always mean to you.

But when you tried to tell others that something was wrong with Mr. Nakomoto they just brushed it off because they only saw him as this perfect teacher, they never saw the way he looked at you.

"Aaahhh" he groaned in frustration

"Dont tell me you're going to cry about this now".

"Get up" he yanked you buy your arm.

"Pack your stuff up and come to my office"

You just meekly nodded not holding back a snarky comment, not wanting to make him angrier than he already was.

You started to walk to his office knowing that you are in for a long ass lecture.

You slowly knocked and opened the door.

Before you could react you felt him yanking you inside and shoving you onto the desk,

He turned back and locked the door.

You were about to yell when you felt a sharp slap land on your face causing you to land your knees.

You tried to get up.

Yuta placed his foot on your shoulder pushing you down.

"Stay down, if you don't want me to do worse.

Its just you and me here no one can save you, so why don't you save us both some trouble and just obey."

He bent down to your eye level and gently tucked away a strand of hair behind your ear.

He caressed your face.

"You really are something aren't you, such a pretty little flower, so delicate, you need to be hidden from the world otherwise you will be ruined, you understand that don't you y/n.

Whatever I do, I do it for your own good."

He said with a sinister smile on his face.

His hands trailed down from your face to your neck with one swift motion he yanked you up onto your legs and pushed you onto his desk.

It happened so quickly you could barely react.

Panic set, you tried to move put he put his arms around you caging you in.

He used one arm to cover your mouth, he used the other to untie his necktie and used it to tie your hands together. He slid a finger across your wet folds and slowly moved them back and forth, without warning he slid a finger into you causing you to gasp and try to push him back but your restraints prevented you from doing so. Seeing you struggle just turned him on even more he started to pump his fingers in and out of cause you to let out a string of curses but just as you were about to cum he pulled out his fingers causing you to whine and thrust your hips forward in an attempt to get some sort of friction on your throbbing cunt.

"Such a desperate slut"

Yuta unzipped his pants and let out his cock that was already dripping pre cum. He slowly teased you rubbing his cock across your cunt sending shivers down your spine. He slowly slid it into you. You felt so full.

He started to rock his hips back and forth slowly and first then he started to loose control and started to thrust into you so hard the desk threatened to shatter.

You soon reached your high and passed out as yuta filled you with his cum.

He cleaned you up and looked down at you unconscious form. He opened his brief case and pulled out a syringe with a clear liquid he gently grabbed your neck and stuck the syringe in you felt a sudden prick and a sensation of a cool liquid course through your neck. You felt the little strength remaining in you leaving all you could feel was numbness as everything went dark.

That was last time anyone ever saw you.

I'm just getting a hang of this app. Lol

#yandere #da

[tomatoswup]

Lunch Time!

summary: Since you didn't get McDonald's the last time, maybe you should get some for Lunch! You sure are hungry!

<Previous

warnings/tags: knives/nai jumpscare, another crack!drabble hehe, they really gonna put yall to work,,,you don'T EVEN WORK THERE,, but no warnings just plucking chickens :P, humor,

A/N: sorry for barely any updates, i just got sick again :,D am suffering,,,anyways is this another mcdonalds AU fic? YES,,, poor reader, they really goin through it naww,,,hehehe enjoy~

Work was a tiring, dreadful thing.

Thats what you concluded as you twirled and spun around in your office chair. How long have you been here now? 5 Hours now?

The rings of phones going off, the gossiping of co-workers around your cubicle, and the bright computer screen honestly just made the side of your head pound. The growl of your stomach making you feel somewhat a bit worse as the rushed small breakfast of the morning wasn't as filling as you would've wanted it to be.

What time was it anyway?

Planting your feet on the ground, stopping the spinning chair, you peaked up at the lone analog clock on the monotoned colored wall.

12:00 PM

Oh! How'd you miss that? It was lunch!

Without a seconds thought with the urge to get the fuck outta the place, you got up and grabbed your keys. Maybe a good meal could clear your headache. Thinking about it, you haven't visit that odd McDonalds in a while, it wouldn't hurt to visit again...

Right?

It didn't take long to find yourself in that same McDonald's, swinging the door open and cautiously walking in to avoid an airborne bun or sausage.

Maybe the nice guy from last time could take your order! What's his name? Bash?..Flash?...Vash, Vash! That was it!

"Hi-" Looking up as you took your wallet out of your bag, you couldn't help but freeze in place.

Oh shit

Instead of the kind-hearted poor worker you had expected, the scary, built...Actually pretty built dude who pummeled the shit out of that customer from that morning stood there. They did kind of look alike though.. Twins?

He shot you a stank look, tilting his head to the side.

Nope.

"Oh, uh..." You gaped out.

Peeping at the name tag on his...why was his chest that plump- SORRY IM SORRY WHAT WAS HIS NAME?

Squinting, you made out the name "Nai" before your thoughts were interrupted by cough.

"So you gonna order or keeping staring at me?" Your cheeks flushed as you took out your wallet “Oh uh yeah, sorry, can I get a number 2-"

"We don't have that."

...Okay? This was a McDonald's right? They really don’t have any quarter-pounders in the back?

Wasn't that their most common meal item?

"Oh? Really? I didn't think you guys would run out of-" Nai whipped his finger up to the clock on the wall nearby "You came at a shitty time, everyone working comes in and orders shit. So pick again."

A bit stunned, you rubbed your hands together out of nervousness before looking back up at the menu...What? Would you wanna get your ass beat by a McDonald's worker?

"Then can I get a 10 piece chicken nugget mea-"

"We don't have that either."

MF HUH???

HOW THE HELL DO THEY NOT HAVE ANY CHICKEN NUGGETS?!

"Chicken nuggets? Ya'll really don't have chicken nuggets?" You exasperated.

"Office party. Ordered 4 orders of our 50 chicken nugget deal, cleared our storage right up. Look, are you gonna order something we have or what?"

HOW WERE YOU SUPPOSE TO KNOW WHAT THEY HAD AND DIDN'T HAVE?!

"Or if you really want nuggets, how about you pluck the chicken in the back?" He deadpanned, leaning on the counter with his right hand and resting his left on his hip.

"....do you guys really have a-"

"No we don't have a fucking chicken."

Damn it.

"Wait..." He muttered, whipping his face around to the clock again as the beeps and dings of the back of the McDonald's became consistent, ringing at every minute.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before walking out from behind the counter to the front door.

"Hey!" He yelled as you looked around, he wasn't talking to you right? You nervously pointed to yourself unsure "Yes you! Get behind the fucking counter, I don't wanna get sued again."

SAY LESS SIR!!

You aint wanna get your ass handed to you today!!!!

You quickly slipped behind the counter with Nai right behind you. "What happened?" You asked, putting your bag down as Nai rummaged in the cabinets for something.

Was someone robbing the store? Was there another another customer he was gonna fight? Cops?

It wasn't until you heard slams on the door that you looked back down at him, before getting a face full of fabric.

"A-A hat?" You cried out as he stood back up "They break down the doors sometimes but you can work the shift today." Giving you a hardened smile, he slapped the hat down onto your head.

WAIT YOU DON'T EVEN WORK HERE!!!

"I CAN'T DO THIS!"

Suddenly, you heard a loud pop of a lock break, and the waves of business men and women, and other customers pushed through the door, hogging the lobby up as if they were the sardines from that one Spongebob episode.

"Well!? Nai screamed at you "Take their order!"

Bro you didn't even get to order food! When did your lunch end anyway?!

With a heavy sigh and slouched shoulders, you pressed a few buttons on the screen "Hello welcome to McDonald's, how can I get your order?"

Why do you keep coming here anyways?...

'Can I leave now?'

It didn't take long for the hour to end, and all the customers to be cleared out that all the staff from the back had come out to the front.

"Are they dead?"

"Well they sure look like it- Ow! What was that for!?"

"Wolfwood don't say that!"

Your body was slouched against one of the walls, the McDonald's hat covering your face as you sat there as limp as a doll.

"I hope they're alright..." One of the more taller browned haired female worker said as the small black haired one went to shake your shoulder.

"Just kick them, maybe they'll awake."

"Legato don't-"

"OW!!!"

Never again....

[blubushie]

Tell us about Vegas?

YOU HAVE CHOSEN THE [BUSHMAN GUSSIED UP] ROUTE!

A TALE OF HIGH-ROLLERS

Warnings: Absolutely none! This a fun story. :]

So in November of 2021 (yes, a month before the Pig Incident) I went back to the US to see my family for a bit. I came back loaded with cash as a peace offering for my family (it didn't work) and so I left and went up to Oregon with a mate of mine for a few days to relax, recoup, and discuss work.

This went (mostly) ok minus a brief blue between us (I say "brief" but he's Still Mad About It, in my defence it was not my fault) and I left for Las Vegas, somewhere I hadn't been since I was very young. I got a flight out there and lounged for a bit and made my way to the only place I know would have me, a historical casino that's very popular (but not as much as it used to be.)

I went in the first night with $20k to blow away. I was upset because of the fight with my parents, further upset by the blue I had with my mate, and I wanted to be a little reckless and a little 20 and enjoy life for a week before I had to leave.

I have a quick meal in town at the Peppermill (incredible place), do some drinking there, then stop by Dream Exotics, rent out a 488 Ferrari, and head for the casino where I end up getting a cheap room.

It's $1500 per 24 hours, I had it for 3 days.

I head downstairs to the tables, sorta keep to myself and eventually I get to come up and play. If any of the you have read my fic, the scene in chapter 9 where Jess and Mundy play poker? Those were my winning hands. So we do a couple rounds.

Something that I didn't know, since I don't make a habit of high-profile gambling, or high-stakes gambling, is that casinos will comp you if they think you're rich. You put down a lot of money and they worship you. They'll spend top dollar on you in the hopes that you lose it all. It's fucking predatory, but it works. What's $20k spent on a gambler if he loses out $60k to you? That's still a $40k profit, and casinos are in the business of betting and winning.

They bet on the wrong bloke. I came in with $2k to piss away and bet $1500 first game. Lost it. Bet the last $500 and got it all back plus $2k more. Wagered that $2k, kept it and gained $1500 more. Bet the $1500, lost that. This repeated, maybe 12 rounds and until 2am, until I decided I'd had my fun and walked out with my $2k plus $6500 richer than I went in.

I'm an addict of one thing--alcohol. I am not a gambling addict. I know when to stop. I stopped. Everything after this was the casino wagering money on me in the hopes I'd come back down to the tables with more cash and lose it all.

I go back to my room. When I get there there's a bloke in a suit waiting for me and he says that the casino's "impressed" and has decided to comp my room and is upgrading me to a second-class suite, free of charge.

Who'm I to say no?

I get my shit and go with him. The suite's incredible. Spa Tower--a fucking two story suite with a spiral staircase, and it comes with a private chef! We're gonna call him C for Chef.

So I get there, set up, stare at this giant fucking bed, and wonder what kinda mess I just got myself into because everything has its price. I didn't get much sleep. Most of my time was spent cleaning my rifle very nervously as a soothing mechanism and muttering about "Oh we're really in for it now, Winnie."

But! I'm here for work. I want work. I love work!

So I finally head to bed around 4am, get a few hours of sleep, and dismiss the chef when he comes in the morning. He insists on making me something and I tip him $50 for some eggs and bacon.

We don't talk much, he's quiet and nervous and I remember where exactly I am and it occurs to me that maybe most people aren't exactly nice to him.

He comes around again for lunch--I don't remember what it was, think it was a panini--and dinner. Dinner was very very very good salmon. He's still not talking much, we mostly ignore each other, but I make him a martini as a courtesy and he seems to warm up a little.

(The suite has a wet bar and you can bet I drank practically all of that $700-worth of booze in it. This is when I first got into making cocktails, and I still enjoy making cocktails today. Thank god for fake IDs.)

Third day comes around, and this is when I get my arse in gear. I am in Vegas in a very high-profile casino. I'm playing with the big boys now and it's time I fucking act like it instead of hiding away in here. I've got impressions to make. I phone the front desk, as to speak to the hotel organiser, we get to talking and at my request he sets me up with a private barber and private tailor. Excellent. This will work. Chef comes in and makes brekkie (potato hash with eggs and chopped bacon) while I'm on the horn with the tailor and giving him the measurements I remember from the last time I had a suit tailored (for court, yay).

I tell the tailor to meet me at 6pm (giving 2hr for suit adjustments) and that I want something black and blue and very formal. I want to look like money. I ring the barber and tell him to come at 4pm, which gives us an hour to get my hair fixed before dinnie (because a mullet is NOT going to cut it here). I tell the cook to take off lunch, I'll meet him back here at 5pm for dinnie. I get dressed and dip.

Spend all day out on the town, seeing the sights and walking the strip and drinking for The Nerves. I head to Dream Exotics and rent out the Ferrari for another 2 days.

I don't get lunch on accounting for big dinnie. Eventually I get back to the casino, valet takes the car, and I head back to my suite.

4pm rolls around and 5 till, I hear a knock at the door. Scramble down the spiral staircase and make my way to the door. Answer it. There's my barber. He's short, very unassuming, older than me by about two decades, scrawny but with bony fingers that show he's been a barber for a long time. He has Those Kinds Of Hands--the kinds of hands that only people who work intricately with their fingers get; hairdressers, barbers, tailors, seamsters, artists, pianists... Wiry knuckles. You get it.

So I let him in and show him around the place. He comes inside and I ask to see his bag. We go through it. It's everything you'd expect. Ok, you're clear, I'll show you the bathroom. We head upstairs. Fifteen minutes later he's drawing the water up in the shower (yay detachable nozzles) and I'm trying my best to avoid looking in the mirror. And this blokes look at me and says my hair looks very thick. And that he likes this, because it means he doesn't have to use volumiser since my hair already has volume.

And then he says "You have hair like a woman's." There's a pause. "I mean that as a compliment." Thanks I guess?

I'm sitting on the edge of the tub and looking out the window and wondering why the fuck I even put this plan in action to start with when he asks me what I'm thinking. You know, in terms of style. And I say honestly, I don't know. Listen, I've got a meeting tonight, I know you should sleep on a fresh haircut but I'm a bit pinched for time. I have to look professional. I have to look good.

He looks at me, seems to have this eureka moment, and we get started. "I've got you." So I take my shirt off cuz it's just gonna get wet if I don't, my hair gets washed, and we head downstairs to the bar. I'm sat in a barstool we pulled from the bar at the eating bar in the kitchen and he gets to cutting.

And because this was pre-stroke I had a Texan accent at the time. So my barber, who I'm gonna call B, he gets curious and asks if I'm a Texas highroller. I tell him I'm a highroller but I'm not from Texas. A guessing game starts. I'll give you a $100 tip if you can guess where I'm from. The cunt guesses South Africa before he guesses Australia. Do I look South African to you? "No, you look like a cowboy." Pssh.

Eventually he guesses Australia. Ding ding ding, we have a winner. So we move on and chatter for a bit about this that and the other, he blows my hair to get the cuttings off but air dried hair is Special so we decide we'll let it air dry. Eventually C gets there, I let him in, and he makes us some steak and potatoes (FUCKING INCREDIBLE) and my hair dries as we all eat. This is the only time I've ever eaten wagyu steak. This shit was A5. Holy fuck the marbling. Melts in your mouth, absolutely incredible.

While all three of us are eating, I pitch the game to the chef. Barber and I are giggling as he thinks. His first guess is Oklahoma, because "Texas is too obvious." Buzzer. He guesses a couple of times. Gets them all wrong. He keeps guessing and he ends up getting a little red-faced in his frustration so I say if he can just guess the country I'll give it to him. He guesses South Africa. "That's what I said," goes B.

"Why South Africa? B guessed it too."

"There's a lot of rich white people in South Africa."

Fair. The game continues.

C names practiclly every European nation there is and then some. He names Canada, he names France and I wrinkle my nose. He names Spain. No. "You look Spanish." My mum's Portuguese?

To hand it to him, my freshly cut hair was drying, I was sitting at the dinner table shirtless and actually eating my steak with a knife AND fork, looking a bit professional despite my state of dress, and drinking a bottle of 1970-something Macallan off the spout. Plus I was freshly de-mulleted. I wasn't exactly the shining example of Aussie. More "American cowboy plucked fresh off the ranch."

But I get bored of the game eventually and I'd finished eating, so I say I'll give him the letter. Starts with an A.

"Aus-"

Yessss…

"-trian?"

NO!

His reasoning is that I'm drinking Macallan off spout for the past hour, it's not affecting me at all yet, and Germanics have a high booze tolerance?

"You know who else has a high booze tolerance? The drunkest nation on the planet."

C is confused.

"He means Australians," chimes B.

"Australians?" C looks at me. "You mean…" He grabs his knife, kinda points it at me but in the faux-threatening way. "'Now that's a knoife' kind?"

Sigh. "Yeah. Aussie."

"So where are you from? Sydney? Where's your accent? Have you ever seen a kangaroo?"

"Are you from Melbourne?" asks B. It's a good guess--there's a lotta rich people in M*lbourne.

"Someplace you never heard of."

The topic drops.

We yarn for a while longer about nothing in particular, mostly about food. I find out that B spent some time in Italy and really loves Italian food, C's favourite food to cook is Italian, they hit it off and I'm sitting in silence as I listen. Not in the third wheel kinda way, but in the intrigued kinda way. They're having a conversation that I'm glad to be a part of. It's interesting.

I make a mental note to have C cook me something Italian for dinner tomorrow.

B decides it's time for the dry cut, so we head back to the kitchen bar (I bring my whikky) and C goes about cleaning up the kish. He's humming as he tidies and eventually he looks over at me and goes "So nowhere Australia?"

"Woop woop, yeah."

"How'd you end up here? With the suite and us? How'd you make it?"

There's a hope in his eyes that's kinda sad. In that childish "I wanna be like him one day" kinda way. He thinks I'm something to aspire to be like. Sad.

"Cattle baron's son?" asks B. He's polite about it. There's no implications there. It's an honest question. He wants to know if I came into money or if I was born into it.

"Nah. Just know the right people."

Topic drops again.

It hits 6:30 and I say goodnight to C, tell him I'll see him in the morning, and he leaves. B is just finishing up with the last trims on my beard--he did a fucking excellent job, made my sideburns sharp and my beard looked perfect--when T gets there. We brush me off, he blows my hair and face and shoulders and chest, and he rubs up my face with an aloe-free aftershave before blotting it try. I get up and let T in and I can see the look on his face when he realises I am in fact as short as I said I was. Kinda funny!

B gets to watch, very amusedly, as T tries to get the bushman into a custom-tailored suit. T thought I was very strange at my initial refusal to wear undergarments (autism no like), but he insists that he can retailor the suit and reuse it for someone else if I do wear underclothes, so I agree and put on some trunks and an undershirt.

The suit was a little loose since this was the start of summer in Australia and I was down quite a few kilos. So some last-minute adjustments have to be made.

After an hour it strikes 7:45 and I'm now fully dressed in this suit. It's tight at the wrists in a way I don't like, but it's a pearl-buttoned jacket, pearl-buttoned dress shirt, pearl cufflinks, and black silk bowtie. I look good.

Black sleek suit, blue velvet lapel, all the pearl accents and everything else? I'm looking good. I get a little blue velvet handkerchief that goes in my breast pocket. I look built for a wedding. Or making connections.

Best $2k worth of clothing I ever spent. Except maybe the $150 I spent for my hat. But still. I'm rocking this shit.

So T is adding the finishing touches, tightening hems and adding little folds on the inside that you can't even really see so that the suit fits me just perfectly, and B is chuckling about this. I glare at him. He stops chuckling about it. Very amusing. T hands me my sunnies and explains that the piss-yellow of the sunnies compliments the black and blue nicely despite the contrast. And I might not be much an artist, but I am a colours bloke, and I can see it. I can understand it. Makes sense. I put them on.

B wets my hair a little, breaks out some hair gel and rubs it on his hands, styles my bangs over to one side, makes some quip about how I should've let him clip the sideburns, and the two fellas back up to get a good look at me. I Am Nervous.

T makes a comment about my hair, B agrees and walks up and fucks with my bangs until a little piece of them dangles at my forehead over my widow's peak instead of combed to the side like the rest. I cock my brow at him but then he steps back and dries his hands and puts them on his hips.

They're not saying anything.

"…How do I look?"

T asks B if he has a mirror. No no no, no mirrors, just tell me.

"Like a million dollars."

Aces.

I pay them, thank them for their time, agree to return the suit to T at the end of the week, and get on my way after they leave. Get my knife in my jacket pocket and my revolver in the other, head downstairs to the lobby, then get the lift down to the subfloors. I flash my card to the bouncer and when I walk in the smell of smoke hits me. In this casino you are not allowed to smoke inside. The highroller floors are an exception to this rule.

I get a glass of champagne off a waitress' tray and find my way to the bar and I sit there for a bit and start yarning with the bartender. The night's quiet, there's not many people in. Most are out at dinner. It didn't get lively until 10pm, and that's when the real fun started. I played a few more games, won $1500, went back to the bar to drink and people watch and wait. Work as usual.

And that's about it. Ended up walking away with a job that night and it was fun! I met people! I socialised! I didn't make an idiot of myself! Yaaay good impressions!

[ktsaysthings]

100 Taylor Swift Titles (+2) and Where To Find Them

This is the answer sheet for dust off your highest hopes from The Story Of Us Fest.

1.august - "...not even considering the new set that will arrive midway through August."

2. willow - "...who she’d seen just this morning, watching silently out the window of her private room in the Janus Thickey ward as the willow tree below swayed and stretched over the murky green pond."

3. I Forgot That You Existed - "“Malfoy,” she says. “I forgot that you existed.”"

4. seven - "“We went to school together for seven years.”"

5. ivy - "Even the ivy climbing up the brick outside, once vibrant and green, is withering."

6. cardigan - "Hermione wraps her cardigan tightly around her middle..."

7. illicit affairs - "“So you thought you could come here and blackmail me into whatever illicit affairs you’re pulling post-war?”"

8. Mean - "“You didn’t say she’d be this mean.”"

9. Peter - "Dr. Peter Hanover"

10. betty - "Professor Betty Bernstein"

11. Run - "...eager to sweep the money into a bag and run straight back to St. Mungo’s."

12. mad woman - "...doesn’t think about the sharp blade or the cold hands or the mad woman that hovered above her--"

13. Labyrinth - "Hermione spies the portraits moving animatedly as they wind through the labyrinth that is Malfoy Manor..."

14. Haunted - "...so it’s only natural to feel haunted by her own screams..."

15. Blank Space - "...there’s a blank space on the wall, where she supposes Draco’s own portrait might rest some day after he’s dead."

16. The Other Side of the Door - "On the other side of the door is an expansive study..."

17. Crazier - "Before she can stumble over something even crazier..."

18. The Last Time - "...like thanking him for not giving her a repeat performance of the last time she was here..."

19. Gorgeous - "Looking gorgeous, darling.”"

20. Don't Blame Me - "“Don’t blame me!”"

21. Tell Me Why - "“—tell me why we’re missing the one thing we need to crack this—”"

22. Speak Now - "“Theo, you can speak now.”"

23. Message in a Bottle - "...a little birdie left me a proverbial message in a bottle with the address and date of the auction."

24. Paris - "Paris!"

25. Robin - "...a lovely lad named Robin..."

26. Beautiful Eyes - "...a stunning Frenchman, beautiful eyes..."

27. You're Losing Me - "“Puppies? Soundrack? You’re losing me,” Draco whines."

28. it's time to go - "“It’s time to go,” Theo says..."

29. Welcome to New York - "“Welcome to New York!”

30. I Hate It Here - "“I hate it here.”"

31. Clean - "...though she thinks no spell could leave her feeling clean after that."

32. Cornelia Street - "They stand at the corner of West Fourth and Cornelia Street..."

33. Daylight - "The sun is still up, the daylight startlingly bright."

34. Eyes Open - "“Eyes open, Malfoy.”"

35. Treacherous - "...from his treacherous experience in an enclosed metal tube..."

36. Shake It Off - "“Shake it off, darling,” Theo says..."

37. Out Of the Woods - "“We’re not out of the woods yet.”"

38. Don't You - "“Don’t you, Hermione?”"

39. Fearless - "“Our fearless Slytherin leader—”"

40. Dress - "...and the dress, darling, we were all drooling--""

41. Fifteen - "...the color of her dress from nearly fifteen years ago."

42. Babe - "...weren’t you, babe?"

43. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - "“We are never, ever getting back together. Like ever.”"

44. I Did Something Bad - "“I did something bad, and now we’re being kicked out.”"

45. Karma - "“Karma will get you, Malfoy...”"

46. Both of Us - "“I think I speak for both of us..."

47. The Best Day - "...when I say this was the best day.”"

48. Superstar - "“My superstar.”"

49. Lover - "“To be his lover, obviously.”"

50. Bye Bye Baby - "Theo blows her a kiss. “Bye bye, baby.”"

51. Maroon - "until it’s a large, maroon throw blanket spread out on the concrete of the roof."

52. The Archer - "Sagittarius, the archer."

53. Change - "...I didn’t think you could change, but—maybe you have.”"

54. I Think He Knows - "“I think he knows, Draco. You saved his life that night at Malfoy Manor.”"

55. The Black Dog - "“Because I’m the black dog of wizarding society—”"

56. Better Man - "...“you’re a better man than I thought you were.”"

57. peace - "...and side by side they sit in peace and quiet on the roof until the barest hints of dawn threaten the horizon."

58. Beautiful Ghosts - "Beautiful ghosts, the two of them."

59. Better Than Revenge - "“What I have planned for you, Draco Malfoy, is far better than revenge.”"

60. How Did It End? - "“You and Weasley. How did it end?”"

61. False God - "...the brainless twit who spent several teenage years worshipping him like a false God?"

62. The Man - "...the man who roped her on this wild goose chase..."

63. We Were Happy - "“We were happy.”

64. Innocent - "Innocent, almost."

65. Now That We Don't Talk - "“And now that we don’t talk at all..."

66. It's Nice to Have A Friend - "“Admittedly, it’s nice to have a friend.”"

67. If This Was a Movie - "If this was a movie, you’d need a distraction.”"

68. Getaway Car - "“...I should be allowed to drive the getaway car.”"

69. Invisible - "...as little by little, him limbs and torso disappear until he’s invisible."

70. I Can See You - "“I can see you, idiot. Try again.”"

71. Breathe - "Hermione can feel Theo breathe down her neck..."

72. Bejeweled - "...instead showing them a bejeweled pinwheel..."

73. The Manuscript - "and a tattered, ancient text that he insists is the manuscript for the bible."

74. That's When - "That’s when an explosion shakes the walls."

75. Red - "The man is beet red..."

76. thanK you aIMee - "“Thank you, Aimee.”"

77. All You Had to Do Was Stay - "“All you had to do was stay put.”"

78. You're Not Sorry - "“You’re not sorry at all, are you?”"

79. Enchanted - "...while she watches the enchanted books reorganize themselves."

80. Starlight - "The night sky is swirling with starlight, thousands of tiny little lights dancing behind the glass."

81. Wildest Dreams - "“Better than even my wildest dreams.”"

82. Delicate - "...and she feels the delicate graze of his fingertips across her hip and down her thigh..."

83. Begin Again - "...pulling out fresh parchment so she can begin again."

84. Holy Ground - "...of a sacred artifact protected on holy ground by magical sentries and extensive booby traps..."

85. epiphany - "...it isn’t until the very last page in the journal that she’s struck by an epiphany."

86. End Game - "“What’s your end game?”"

87. Everything Has Changed - "In an instant, everything has changed."

88. Birch - "...at the edge of a grove of tall, white barked birch trees."

89. The Outside - "and stitch the outside of the wound closed."

90. ME! - "“I won’t let you take it from me!”"

91. Mine - "“It’s mine,” he growls..."

92. All Too Well - "She knows pain and regret and desperation all too well."

93. Two Is Better Than One - "“I guess two is better than one.”"

94. The Lucky One - "“The lucky one of us that gets to the grail first keeps it. Deal?”"

95. Castles Crumbling - "...only moments before the castle’s crumbling around them."

96. closure - "Is he here for some misguided sense of closure?"

97. The Alchemy - "...but the alchemy is sound.”"

98. I Almost Do - "...Every time I work up the courage, I almost do it..."

99. hoax - "...And I’ll have fed my mother a thousand year old cracker for a hoax.”"

100. happiness - "No one is brave enough to ruin her happiness by telling him off."

+1. the 1 - "“—tell me why we’re missing the one thing we need to crack this—”" (the changed spelling is what put this on the fence for me)

+2. Macavity - "...from a one Macavity Jones..." (Taylor didn't write this one, so I wasn't sure if it should count)

[preciadosbass]

7/8/24

woke up at 9/9:30 and stayed outside with boris up until 10:30 when i got dressed and straightened my hair. today i wore my skinless shirt, camo jorts, a necklace i thrifted that matches all the colours on my shirt, a chain, dirty converse, and mostly uncoloured band bracelets [todays were pierce the veil, my chemical romance and sleeping with sirens. i was going to wear my avenged sevenfold one but it has red on it.] and some other stuff like that [studs & spiked cuffs] once i was ready [11] a took a couple of pictures in the mirror as i don’t have anything close to a full body pic of this particular outfit [photos at end].

we [me, my mum and my sister - my dad had left earlier on in the morning around the time i woke up to see his dad] left at 11:15 to go to this farm thing. i took yarn into the car with me so i could make another bracelet using the seat release clip thing at the back of the passenger seat. i didn’t want to make it a copy and paste of the one i made yesterday, so i used black + gray and it made a different pattern from the previous one as there was more of one colour.

i listened to fall out boy in the car and we got to the farm at around 11:50. none of us knew what we were doing because it was our first time so we got assigned a staff member that was a year younger than me, but she looked like 17. it was so embarrassing because she quite clearly thought i was younger than i actually am due to my height and i was being guided and spoken to like a child by someone the same age as me lmaoo — we went round to the stables and she tacked up a horse called loki. he’d already been ridden on and off so he wasn’t really feeling it. my sister went round the riding arena first and i went on afterwards at 12:15.

i haven’t ridden a horse in a while so it was cool but i felt bad for him because he was practically falling asleep while being tacked up and it was clear by the speed of which he was going that he just wanted to relax. anyway, after id done a circuit of the arena that staff girl [i don’t wanna say her name] showed us the other horses and animals. she showed me to one of her favourites, and i can get why that is. they were so soft and gentle. i got distracted and carried on stroking them and everyone else had already walked off so i caught up and saw the alpacas, rats, bunnies and guinea pigs. i love rats. one of them had really round ears and it looked stupid in a cute way.

after that everyone else was having lunch/had finished lunch so we went back to where all the other people were and i had something small to eat because my stomach really hurt and i kept on almost throwing up. i sort of just sat around and observed the people around me, begging for someone to introduce themselves. i did at one point ask someone where they got their septum pierced as i’m getting mine done but i’m yet to find a trusted piercer. they gave me a name of a shop but i’ve already looked at review/results from there and it does not look good. at all. but at this point i am really desperate and i’ve been wearing fake ones for 3+ years now.

they had a dog that just roams around the farm so i went off and sat down next to her while i stroked her back. a girl came and sat down infront of me. coincidentally i was hoping she’d speak to me. she told me she likes my outfit and i complimented her back about her shirt and asked who the people were on the pins on her lanyard. they were people from genshin, and after she spoke about that for a while she wanted to put backround music on her headphone and mentioned loving mcr. obviously this was my chance so i told her i loved them too and about seeing the tribute in a few days. she seemed to think that was pretty cool. then my sister came and sat down with us and found out she likes genshin so i sat there in silence while they spoke for an hour+ about that stuff.

i know it seems petty but i was and still am kinda [very] sad about that because whenever i become friendly with someone they become more friendly with my sister over games. and it’s not even like i don’t like games, i have a few i love. i don’t know, it’s just like because i’m so obsessed with making friends because i genuinely have none which is obvious in my journals and if i meet people they either turn out to be bad people/ignore me for my sister. she was really nice aswell but now i don’t think being friends is going to work out at all because my sisters making me ask her for her genshin user so they’re gunna spend all day everyday playing with eachother and i’ll most likely never see her again. i wish i was overreacting. i really want a friend so bad.

after that hour[+] the main leader person got us into groups and we sung to this girl because it was her birthday. afterwards i got ready to leave and really skittishly asked for the girls whatsapp incase i don’t come again. but when i got in the car my sister was going on about speaking to her and gaming with her and stuff so i couldn’t feel any kind of excitement whatsoever. i seem like i’m making myself sound so hard done by, im not; but i am when it comes to socialising. my sister goes to school and sees people everyday, she has lots of friends. but i don’t have that, so i have to to whatever i can to make friends. but it’s already over. i swear i do try and think positive, i was, up until this quickly resulted how it always does.

we left the premises at 1:45 and drove to my grandads house [got there at 2:10]. he gave me my band photos that he gets printed every month for me and i told him about my day. my dad then arrived there and i had a nap because my grandad always has duvets on the sofa and i was so tired just couldn’t resist. i woke up at one point and a few pigeons game into the room because seed was scattered on the doormat. i don’t know how long i was asleep for but i woke up at like 3:40 and got ready to leave. we left at 4 and i switched to be in dads cars because the windows are blacked out.

i listened to more fall out boy on the way home and when we arrived i fed boris, went outside to cuddle him, and then finally cleaned the shells i got from the beach. i’m planning on getting my dad to drill small holes into them so i can thread them through string, onto a wooden cross and make it into a ‘windcharm.’ once id done i stayed out with boris up until 6-6:10 and eventually went back inside to journal. i finished within half and hour and coloured that picture of pickachu from yesterday.

i finished at 7:25 and then put my bracelets back on and snuck out of the back door in the garden [incase boris followed me and my mum off the driveway] to walk to this girls house [i haven’t seen her since i was in school so 2-3 years ago. i know her originally from primary school so my mum wanted to catch up with her mum and i wanted to see how things would be between me and her because we’ve never texted or met up since i’ve been around 7. we just knew eachother really, we were never really close friends or anything.] we got to her house and she wasn’t in, then me and my mum went to see if this other girl was in [i haven’t spoken or seen her since year 6 and we also weren’t necessarily friends then either] but she was out with her friends.

idk but this triggered me somehow and made me upset because i was like, they’re both with their friends and i’m here tagging along with my mum to see people i haven’t known for 7+ years because i have no friends. again this kinda rubbed it in my face that i have no one so i accidentally snapped at my mum and then i cried for over an hour on the way home/at home because i felt guilty and i just want someone to text and hang out with. when i got home it was almost pitch black outside but i sat kneeled down on the floor crying while speaking to boris.

we walked for over an hour. i’m still disappointed and i know it’s not either for their fault for being out enjoying themselves while i randomly turn up at their house [both of their mums have always said i’m welcome anytime but i don’t have anything in common with either of them so i haven’t really up until tonight] i just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that i’m a teenager and what i’m meant to do is have friends and communicate with them. but i don’t have anyone in general let alone someone to speak about teen things/do teen things with and i genuinely feel so alone. i like i’m an alien living as a side part in some video game nobody cares about and im just an extra nobody bothers paying any attention to.

i didn’t intend for this to be a vent, but it’s hard to carry on with your life when the entire base of everyone’s existence at every age is having people to speak to/support them/hang out with and i’m just existing. i love boris so much and he’ll always be my bestfriend, even if i do make a friend someday - but i really NEED someone human to speak to and spend time with. but nobody can overpower or replace the way boris’s company positively affects me. i’m just sick and tired of wasting away and having my teenage years stolen from me just because i don’t have any human friends and everyone else around me does and goes on about it constantly.

when i went back inside from being with boris, i watched a couple youtube videos while i tried to calm myself/relax my muscles and things. i watched: about 15 minutes worth of ‘danger days gerard ~ best moments’, backstage chats with kellin quinn, bands on bands - pierce the veil and sleeping with sirens, pierce the veil jenga interview, and pierce the veil bus invaders. i had a 7 minute nap and went up to my parents around 12. i spoke about the concert me and my dad are going to and my dad somehow agreed to me dressing him up as me for the concert?? LIKE I GET TO DRESS HIM SCENEMO THE CONCERT PICS ARE GUNNA BE EPIC HES ACTUALLY GUNNA BE A 61YO EMO SENSATION.

i came down from my parents room at 1:45 or something, it took long[er] because i asked my dad about his day and how my other grandad was as i obviously didn’t get to see him. once i was back downstairs i got into my onesie, did my teeth and said goodnight to boris. he was running around like crazy and drank the water i poured for myself so i put out some water + wet food for him and finished saying goodnight at 2:30. went to sleep at 2:50.

have a good day/night O_o

[bitchfitch]

Like, it's a bit funny when posts go around claiming Tumblr isn't as good for artists as other sites, or that it's on par with other sites bc artists are more prone to asking for interaction here than elsewhere. bc here's The Thing.

On pure numbers of usual engagement vs audience size (the # of interactions a post gets on average not including any spiders georgs), Tumblr is fucking Fantastic.

Here's how the math shakes out. On average an Account on a social media platform such as insta or twitter in late 2022 can expect around a 1-3% engagements on their posts. If the account has 100 followers 1-3 of those followers will in some way do something with that post, that's 'Like' 'Comment' or whatever the site equivalent of peer to peer sharing is (rebloging or retweeting).

in General a User is more likely to use what ever the lowest effort form of interaction on the site is more often than the higher effort ones, with a tier system of interactions naturally forming

on Tumblr those tiers are likes > reblogs > comments

The average user is more likely to like a post than reblog it and they are more likely to reblog than leave a comment, (we are collecting comments left in the comment tab, tags containing a comment, and reblogs with comment in the same umbrella they require about the same level of user effort but tag comments are technically lower effort than actual comments or rb with comment bc of them being the inside voice as some have put it. )

Those tiers are Really important. because on a more typical site, on an account that isn't specifically using click bait and outrage bait to well bait interactions, you expect a significant disparity between those tiers on the average post. This varries dramatically between sites but it's usually a 10 to 1 between steps when i have to listen to my coworkers talk about engagement for nth fucking hour that day. (Tumblr terms: 10 likes for every 1 reblog, 10 reblogs for every 1 comment, 100 likes for every 1 comment)

So on Tumblr account with (to make the math easier) 10,000 followers you would expect the Average post to have 150 notes (1.5% interaction rate)

Of those 150 notes the break down will normally look like 136 likes, 13 reblogs and a single comment. This post originally only used a 1% interaction rate bc it made the math easier, but with that Very common estimate, a Tumblr post with a hundred notes would have No comments.

Has that been your experience? Do you Commonly see or make posts that do those numbers? I don't. I have about 1.2k followers on this blog and the only posts that get 12 notes or less are personal, non content, or non currated posts. Posts that aren't what my blog is a bout and aren't what people follow this blog for. My actual completed art, when posted at not fuck off o'clock in the morning Very often 50+ notes with the rb to like ratio being closer to 1 rb for every 5 likes.

Beyond that, Tumblr not being heavily dictated by an algorithm and allowing users to use the low effort interactions more than once means posts have a Far longer shelf life. Art i posted over a year ago still gets notes because it was tagged appropriately and has been passed one blog to another giving more people the opportunity to then interact with it.

Having said that, I could Absolutely reach a wider audience and get more number go up juice by using a more algorithmically focused site. If i was willing to bend to the algorithm and Only post what lined up with it. Only made content that appealed to a wide base that could be tagged with the latest hotness and also ran my profile in the most algorithmically pleasing way.

because that what those sites end up doing. They force users and artists especially to conform to the algorithm. If you Want that Coveted 3% interaction rate. or Hell, maybe you want to dream big and get a 5% interaction rate, something some of my coworkers have gotten Actual raises for consistently achieving for clients before. If you want that, you best better be willing to sell your soul to a black box that's unknowable to users On Purpose.

Tumblr is fucking Fantastic for the average artist on a pure numbers front. Partially because there's no algorithm concentrating interactions by fucking with who sees your post and stacking the deck in a way that gets certain Algorithm Friendly content creators atypical interaction rates.

The reasons artists ask for reblogs and interactions here more is because it's Way easier to see and Feel the disparity inherent to a social media platform. Partially because likes don't significantly benefit the artist beyond giving them the warm fuzzies, at best it'll bump the post out of reverse chronological order on the dashboards of people who have best stuff first still turned on or who use the for you tab

It's Absolutely better to reblog folks work. It is a Massive help for smaller creators who are trying to grow their audiences because we can't use the algorithm to our advantage here. There isn't one to exploit, there's no combination of tags and posting time or text in the post that'll trick some ones and zeros into dumping it on a million peoples' dashes without paying actual money to promote the post to an almost random selection of users. So creators are completely reliant on their followers to spread their work, and that makes a Phenomenal interaction rate Feel bad because theres no layer of obfuscation between the users and how their content proliferates, there's no invisible hand pushing the scale one way or another.

anyways it was like 4 am when i started writing this, it is now almost 6am I'm not fucking checking or editing this, Source. Me. guy who has to work at a marketing company bc ' obnoxious and reclusive wizard ' isn't """"'a viable career'"""" anymore.

[taylor]

If the following situation happened to you, how would you feel? Because I’m really hurt and pissed but maybe I’m missing something obvious?

- Last Tuesday, my friend Jordyn invited me and another friend to a bar this weekend on Saturday (last night).

- Saturday morning (yesterday) she texts the group chat and verifies we’re still down for the night - the plan at this point is meet at Jordyn’s house at 7 to leave together to the bar.

- It’s 6:30 PM and I’ve been cleaning the house and realize I’m going to be late, so I call Jordyn to let her know I’ll just meet her at the bar. She doesn’t answer, so I check my texts and see that I missed where she said at 3:40 PM in the group text: “Change of plans no bar tonight the vibe is weird”. I reply back asking about the vibe being weird and she texts me one on one saying she’ll call me in 10 minutes and I’m like sweet cool that’s fine - that’s at 6:30 PM. (for context, she was at a friend’s graduation, and had to see a girl she’s been in a semi-fight and big misunderstanding with, so my assumption is the “vibe” being off was due to this other girl and her boyfriend, who Jordyn had been somewhat involved with at some point.)

- I’m not the kind of person who thinks 10 minutes HAS to always mean 10 minutes, so I continue cleaning and an hour and 20 minutes go by and I decide to text her like bestie what’s the tea i’m so curious (this is at like 7:50 PM i think?) and right after i send it I open my find my friends app and I see Jordyn literally pull up at the bar, like the timing was insane to actually see her pull up like that.

- So she’s at the bar, that she said earlier tonight wasn’t happening anymore. I’m pissed because I feel like somewhere along the line she lied to me and I don’t understand why. Either she lied about me being invited to the bar in the first place, which doesn’t make sense, or she lied about it being cancelled, or just lied by omission. I ended up checking her location like 4 hours later and she was still at the bar (she’s home now so she didn’t leave her phone there like she’s done before lol).

…would y’all feel the same anger/resentment/sadness/etc that I feel? Because Jordyn and I recently got into a huge argument where I told her I felt she didn’t value our friendship because she kept cancelling plans last minute and I just wanted to hang out with her and it felt like I didn’t matter enough to her for her to always come up with an excuse for why today wouldn’t work - to her credit, though, when we finally talked things through 2 weeks later, she apologized for always cancelling or changing plans and said she’d try to be better about it (which is all anyone can ask for, for someone to TRY, and the result is MORE time with my bestie, which I always want). Then this happens not even a week after we reconciled over her CANCELLING AND CHANGING PLANS ALL THE TIME? like maybe i’m just an idiot but it seems to me like maybe not ideal to cancel plans with someone only to keep those same plans actually and just lol never reply to them?

Also, I texted her a few minutes later after I saw her get to the bar and I suggested seeing a movie or going to the bar anyway - I didn’t wanna be the weirdo who’s like I SEE YOURE AT THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT but honestly i was hoping she’d just say “omg come on by, the plans are back on!!” bc i was literally ready to go out and have fun, and i wanted to even try to give her an ��out” where she could see i was still trying to make something happen, but wasn’t calling her out (even tho i probably rightfully could have). so anyway, i did text her at 8 pm with that idea and then at like 12:45 she’s still at the fucking bar and has yet to text me back, which will probably happen tomorrow but until then i’m just left to sit here and wonder what the fuck just happened and maybe she just doesn’t want me around? am i oblivious to this and maybe i’ve been recently annoying her and she felt like she had no option but to not re-invite me? or had no option but to lie? she’s like my best friend irl and so i don’t want to lose her but i don’t like this icky feeling i’ve got going on