#ITS THREE FOURTY FIVE (AM!!!!)

[metfell]

woag metfell background holy shit

[pookietv]

online embarrassment | arthurtv

this was a req!! and i think its adorable

there will be a part two to this !!!

being a simple university student, you had simple pleasures - getting drunk on the weekend, binge watching tv shows, and a more strange one, online chess. you liked watching people play, you liked playing yourself, you loved the strategy aspect. on some websites you played on, there was the option of livestreaming your chess game - no faces or voices, but people could chat alongside you playing, and you enjoyed seeing input on your games.

one day you were playing a particularly tricky game, being forked from practically the get go, and being the victim of many pawn trades, you were definitely on a losing streak, even if you were just playing against a bot. it was being streamed, but there were only four people watching, not that embarrassing right? especially because it was hidden behind a chess username and no one knew who you were anyways, so it didn't really matter.

so when a comment came in,

ATV: i wouldn't have played rook to f4 there, leaves an opening for a three move check :)

your head tilted a little, turning back to the game and furrowing your eyebrows, trying to figure what they had meant - and they were right, the move was a little careless and it could lead to checkmate.

you nodded to yourself, trying to amend the damage by playing your bishop defensively, to which another comment came in.

ATV: sorry for backseat gaming here, but you could have check in two

you smiled a little more at the comment, placing one hand on your chin and the other on your mouse, following some moves for what must have been fourty-five seconds before you clicked, they were right again. you made the move, the bot making its response, defending also, before in a few short moves, the game was over, you had won by check.

youruser: @/ATV thank you! i still kinda suck after playing for so long lmao

ATV: @/youruser do you want a game? :)

youruser: @/ATV sure! i'll add you now :P

so you added them, and they requested a game. in the chatbox on the side, you saw another message just as they had moved their first piece.

ATV: so what's your name?

youruser: i'm y/n, what about you?

ATV: arthur :)

he moved with an unusual polish opening, so you played traditional and tried to take control of the centre. within a few minutes, he had one of your pawns pinned, and had taken another.

youruser: damn you're actually really good

youruser: feeling a little defeated here :)

ATV: i'm just a loser with far too much time on my hands

youruser: well i mean me too but still, you're smoking me

ATV: cause you're playing too much attack not enough defence

youruser: i feel i may need you to tutor me lmao

ATV: lets finish up this game rq and then i'll help lol

unsurprisingly, he won, but you actually came closer than expecting, and it was a pretty even match after the poor beginning.

ATV: you're actually pretty good, you were just being modest

youruser: hm well maybe

youruser: suppose i'll have to keep challenging you til i win >:D

ATV: do you have discord or anything? easier to explain and talk on there rather than chess in game chat lol

youruser: i do! i'll link it rq :)

youruser: it's yourdiscuser #1782

and from there, you began talking semi-regularly, you played chess often and spoke tactics and games, he helped teach you and you enjoyed the company.

youruser: isn't it really strange we know nothing about each other other then chess defence strategies

youruser: i mean what if you're the insane chess killer man

ATV: yes, thats exactly who i am, the Insane Chess Killer Man, can't believe you caught me red handed

ATV: i mean what do you wanna know

youruser: i mean, idk,,, where are you from? i mean i know you speak english but you could be from anywhere i guess :O

ATV: i live in england, what about you :)

youruser: me too! i'm in london atm for uni, getting my masters

ATV: i am also in london! so if you're getting your masters, you're like ... somewhere around 24?

youruser: yeah, i'm 23 :P

youruser: what about you? i mean i have a feeling you're not some sixty year old man based on the fact you use discord but idk

ATV: i'm 28,,, getting very old :(

youruser: wow, very old indeed, must be such a shame

youruser: its gonna suck when i'm gonna have to visit you in a nursing home to play chess with you in two years time

ATV: okay i'm not that old you divvy :)

youruser: kidding, kidding ! anyway, i have to go because i have class but,, if you maybe wanna add me on instagram, its @/youruser :)

getting back from your lectures and practically throwing your backpack on the floor and collapsing on your bed, you planned on rotting the rest of the day away in pajamas and consuming far too much social media.

you opened instagram to a new follower: @/arthurtv

you assumed it was arthur from chess, and obviously in curiosity you opened his page straight away, you were nosy and you wanted to know who he was.

the first thing that shocked you was what he looked like: you didn't know what you were expecting but you didn't think it was going to be him.

he was... attractive, you had to admit, and your eyes had widened once you had seen him.

the second thing that shocked you was his followers, and his bio - he was a youtuber?

classically, you had to be nosy and follow the links to his youtube, your eyebrows raised a little as you looked at his channel, giggling to yourself, he did commentary on reality tv? you hadn't seen that before, but once you watched a video, you realised he was funny, too. he made it funny, despite the fact that you had at first felt it was the strangest youtube topic ever.

youruser: why hello arthurtv

youruser: i was definitely not expecting you

arthurtv: why hello y/n

arthurtv: i could say the same about you

youruser: well i mean i don't have any surprises

youruser: but you are apparently known for commenting on 90 day fiance?

arthurtv: i'd argue you have some surprises

arthurtv: and yes, i make commentary videos! wasn't trying to hide it or anything, just was a weird thing to bring up in conversation :)

youruser: no, it seems cool! i wasn't judging :) i don't watch much youtube so i don't know too much about it

youruser: and anyways, what surprises do i have?

arthurtv: i wasn't expecting you to look like that i suppose

youruser: like what ??

arthurtv: i mean, i don't know, pretty i suppose

arthurtv: you're very pretty, i just didn't know what i was expecting to be honest

youruser: wow you thought i couldn't be pretty cause i'm a loser playing chess??? smh arthur

youruser: (i'm kidding, i didn't expect you to look like you either)

arthurtv: you know that's not what i meant!!

arthurtv: what did you expect me to look like then?

youruser: well since you're 28, i suppose i was expecting a zimmerframe or walking stick or something

arthurtv: ha ha very funny

[swords-of-a-soilder]

The Healing Process

Chapter 13

Weakness

Forever lean forward as he watched his pocket watch tick, he was seated on his couch, hyperfocused on each tick of his clock.

He count the hour down in his head, fifty eight seconds till twelve am. Among the tick of the clock he feed the memories of his past.

He recalled the horrid sounds of his screams, fifty two seconds, Cucurcho's ungodly face, fourty four seconds; his pounding head ache, thirty eight seconds.

The ticks, he'd focus on ticks the ticks. Rciyhardlyson needed his father more than ever, Phil still needed his help and Cellbit was expecting better from him.

Twenty seconds, ten, nine, eight, seven,six, five, four, three, two... the clock froze short of one second, time stood completely still as silence filled his ears.

Suddenly a pair of red hands reached out from behind him, caressing his cheeks as they spoke with a sweet voice. "Forever, aren't you tired?"

Forever didn't question the voice, he's heard it before. Rather he often drown said voice out with the ticks of his pocket watch; right, his watch isn't working right now.

"I just know you're exhausted, don't you need to rest?"the voice asked again.

"I..I am.. extremely tried.."

"Oh course you are," The entity in appearance a woman in a red dress with a large vail, rubbed its cheek against Forever's while dangling the pill bottle in it's hand. "Go on, take a break."

Almost instantly, he accept the bottle fumbling with the child safety lid. He quickly pulled himself to reality, releasing his grip of the bottles. "What am I doing?" He asked himself

The entity climbed over the couch then sat itself in his lap, at an uncanny speedy. It pulled his face close to it's own, then rest his forehead against it's. "Don't you deserve a break?" It coed

Forever stared into the entity's eyes, Ruby gems staring back at him amongst the shaded appearance behind the Vail. "But people are depending on me.."

"You're so busy helping everyone, how often do they try to help you?" The entity debated.

"A few times actually," he glanced off to the other direction, deep in thought "there was the time when.. when I..why can't I.. remember?"

"Because it never happened."

"That doesn't..sound right?"

"Your friends just want to use you, they don't care about you."

"Surly not.."

"You haven't forgotten your privilege, have you Mr. President? It'd be rather easy for you to get any documents they need." The entity reminded, "Even better if they needs access to any restricted location."

"They wouldn't.."

"Can you remember a single time they help you?"

"..no..but.."

"Take a break, give yourself the freedom you deserve," the entity dangle the bottle into his field of vision, "take a pill, maybe four."

Forever accept the bottle once again, this time pushing down on the child safety lid. He poured himself four pill, then stared at them briefly.

"What's there to lose?" The entity double down. Forever gave in, swallowing the pills dry before slowly laying down. Slowly he feel into the effects, his muscle's relaxed as his mind came to ease.

Philza observed his phone is tense silence, anxiously awaiting Forever's respond to his message of self invitation. He was stood outside Forever's base, with Tallulah by his side.

He wanted to show his appreciation to Forever for assisting him, despite how hard of a time he's been giving them, Tallulah of course was already up and therefore wanted to visit Forever as well.

"He's not responding." Philza began, "Vitals says he's awake... He doesn't normally ignore me.."

Tallulah shoke her maraca instantly gain Phil's attention, "Maybe he's busy?" She signed

"Busy enough not to respond to me?" Phil asked in a sarcastic tone, as if the mer concept was unlikely. "I don't like this, let's go in."

Tallulah nod her head in agreement, then followed behind Phil as they made their way in Forever's resident. Painful awear of the silence, they search rooms after rooms looking for him.

Finally they found him semi-conscious on the couch, the pill bottle losly grasp in his hand. Philza sigh in disappointment at the sight in front of him, then approached Forever with Tallulah nearby.

"Tallulah, help me move him to the bathroom." Phil requested.

Tallulah assist to the best of her ability, taking Forever's legs while her father took his top half. They carried him into the bathroom, where she lost her grip and Phil his footing.

Phil caught himself with his elbow thus breaking Forever's fall by transferring the pain to Phil.

"Sorry!" Tallulah yelled in a harsh voice, Phil wave his hand dismissively then pull Forever upright as he observer his body.

He place his ear against Forever's chest, his eyes squint as he listens to his heart beat. "Tallulah, Can you get me the pill bottle?" He request

Tallulah agreed as she ran back to the room, meanwhile Phil lossen Forever's top to reduce restriction in his blood flow. He hissed at sight before him, the black goo like substance had spread to his chest.

soon Tallulah returned with the bottle, of which Phil observed the print on the bottle then sighed in relief. He slapped Forever's cheek repeatedly successful waking him up. Well wake might be the wrong word, "Forever how much did you take?"

Forever hummed in response before once again drifting into unconsciouiness, Phil slapped him again thus pulling Forever back into reality.

"How many?!" Phil doubled down, Forever weakly presented four fingers before passing out once more.

Phil observed the bottle once again, the instructions stating two pills twice a day put his mind at ease. He turn his attention back to Tallulah,

"He'll be fine, he just needs to work out his system." Phil informed , "I'll stay here to keep an eye on him, if he throws up he could chock on his puke."

Tallulah expression soften, Forever was like a Father to her, she couldn't imagine losing him; This was too close to comfort.

"You should go home." Phil's voice threw her out her thoughts, "I know you're probably tired, get some rest."

Before Tallulah could respond, Forever effectively distracted them both as he coughed up vomit.

Phil quickly flipped him around to the toilet, then pull his hair out his face allowing Forever to empty his contents.

Tallulah moved closer to Phil, she then sat next to him to indicate she had no intention of leaving. "Well if your staying." Phil began, "could you get Forever a cup of water?"

Tallulah nod then ran the kitchen, then returned with the request item. Phil instructed Forever in his semi conscious state to rinse his mouth and when he sucessed in such he rest In Phil's lap.

Phil rub his head as he hum a familiar tune, hoping he could at least bring some peace to Forever's soul. "Philza.." he finally spoke through his drunken State, "I.. I'm so sorry."

"Shh," Phil reassured, apologize in the morning, right now I just need you to be ok."

[peculiar-archives]

Below is a letter I received several years ago, and recently rediscovered in my drawers, dated 1711:

Ms. Starling,

I’ve come upon something most intriguing. Attached are photos relating to the mysterious events, and I hope that after reading, you could respond to me with advice. I’m rather at a loss.

I appear to have forgotten my manners. My apologies, here is an introduction if you’ve not heard of me. My name is Ms. Iryna Petrel, and I am currently in charge of a loop in Crete, Greece. We reside in a manor, which has since been destroyed through an arson, committed four days after I began the loop. As I and my wards have made a home here continually since November fourteenth, 1711, I’ve had many traveling peculiars stop here as not to age forward. Some famous, many simply looking for a place to stay and rest. It’s been almost two hundred years (In actuality, it has been one-hundred-and-ninety-nine years and three-hundred-and-thirty-five days since the loops beginning), and the most trouble I’ve encountered was a group of peculiar raiders. That is, until now.

Early yesterday morning, four peculiars entered my loop. They carried the body of another, very obviously deceased girl. The rest had sustained major injuries. At first, when I’d seen them enter our loop (The signal for entry is rather bright, and happens to be outside of my bedroom window), my thought was that they’d want me to save her. Even from two stories, it was clear that she’d suffered much damage to her stomach, nearly her entire body being drenched in blood. 

Their injuries were much worse in person than they appeared from the window. Upon running across the the manor to reach them, it was clear that they were in urgent need of medical assistance. I showed them to the west wing of the house, which is our teaching and medicine area. I then awoke three of my wards who excel in medicine, and the peculiars told me their story.

The three living were Georgia (appeared 23, true age 26), Xenia (appeared 11, true age 112), and Chrysanthos (appeared 17, true age unknown, assumed to be just under 190). The dead peculiar’s name was Artemis (appeared 9, true age 12). They had fled here from a loop in Cyprus, which had only been open for around three years. Xenia and Chrysanthos had been forced to flee from two previous loops, the second of which they were in together for over 70 years. Chrysanthos referred to Xenia as his younger sister, and was very concerned about her safety for the whole time they were in the medical wing. Georgia and Artemis were siblings from Cyprus who decided it was safer to reside in a loop than out in the open, risking Coerlfolc discovering and possibly killing them. By the time my wards had healed them appropriately, it was well into the morning, and I could hear a large collection of my wards waiting outside of the door to the medic room. I told them to come in, and the other fourty-two wards in my protection walked through the door. Since it could not do to to have them all in a singular room lacking much ventilation, I took my wards (as well as the three new arrivals), into the garden. Georgia required a chair to sit on, as whenever her bare skin touched plant life, it would grow up to ten times its original size. She apologized profusely for this, explaining that she couldn’t control it when she was stressed.

The three peculiars began to tell their story. I’d advise reading this outside of the company of any wards, as it is rather violent, and I would not like to be responsible for traumatizing anyone under your protection. I’ve written this part with help from Chrysanthos, so I missed no details.

They had lived in a loop in Cyprus for three years, led by Ms. Chukar. It was a small loop, occurring in a hotel basement just outside of Georgia’s village. Ms. Chukar was a young ymbryne, but a very powerful one nonetheless. On one night, she welcomed in a man who claimed to be an echolocator. He claimed to be named Jonathan, although, it could easily be a falsehood. His eyes were blank, so we all assumed it was true, and he was simply blind. He came with a gun, claiming that he needed to protect himself on his travels. He stayed for two days and became quite a favorite of the younger children, with a quiet and kind demeanor. That made it even more startling when he turned his gun at Ms. Chukar and fired on his second dinner in the loop. She fell out of her chair, assumed to be dead. There were sixteen peculiars (including Ms. Chukar) in the loop at that time. In my panic to leave, five other shots were fired. There is every reason to believe they were lethal, as only ten of us left from the only exit of the basement. They all attempted to leave the loop, scattering in many directions. The man walked casually towards the entrance to the loop, shooting two more wards in the process. None of them, outside of Chrysanthos and Artemis had peculiarities that would help with combat, so Artemis stayed behind to buy the rest of them time, while Chrysanthos protected the main group. She used her ability to create winds up to 150 km/hr to keep him pressed against a wall while we left the loop. On the other end, there was a sort of monster that waited for us. It was invisible for ten seconds, until it grabbed two wards with two long tongues, and ate them in one horrible bite. It looked like a rotting grey corpse, with loose skin folds, and oversized eyes. It moved using three monstrous tongues, and it had teeth that appeared over 25 cm long. It managed to eat almost all of the peculiars, only two (Georgia and Chrysanthos) making it back into the loop, even though we’d sustained injuries. We’d made it back through to see the man with white eyes slash Artemis’ stomach with a knife, him finally having overcome her miniature hurricane. 

The next paragraph is entirely written by Chrysanthos, as I (Ms. Petrel) know how difficult it is to put one’s own peculiarity through the words of someone else. 

After Artemis had fallen, held by her sister on the rock, I did something that I’d never known I was able to do. My abilities normally extended to simply telekinesis and in the past few years, I’d discovered that I was able to turn quantities of a certain matter into another - a piece of metal into the same amount of water - but only with intense concentration. I, in a state of panic, instinctively pushed the man to the ground. I held his arms above his head, and power rush through me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I felt the blood rushing through his body. There was a small cut on the back of his hand from where I’d pushed him down, and that was enough. I turned all of the blood in his body into stone. His mouth was frozen in a pained scream, and his eyes wide in terror. I’d no idea I could do that. I fell off his body. I was picked up by Xenia, who was yelling at us that we needed to go. Apparently, another one of us (who’s name I will not disclose out of respect for the dead, but I was very close with him romantically) had gone through the loop entrance again, dying, and told Xenia what happened. Xenia had a fight with Artemis earlier that day, and was too angry to attend dinner, but ran downstairs after she’d heard gunfire, fearing the worst. Artemis was still alive, but barely. Georgia carried her to a boat that we had, and Xenia piloted us towards Cyprus. We made it here in under five minutes, thanks to Artemis. It was this effort that killed her. We all stepped off of the boat, in shock, and found the loop, thanks to Xenia’s ability to sense other peculiars and loops, amongst other things navigational.

I (Ms. Petrel), am writing again. I beg for your assistance in future endeavors and advice with how do deal with the new arrivals. Xenia says that she can sense two of them from the loop on Cyprus alive, and I am going to travel there. While I am gone, my loop will be maintained by Ms. Phoebe Spoonbill, an injured ymbryne currently under my care until she is able to find a group large enough to start a loop. If I am injured and unable to return, she will be in charge of my loop. I will report to you with any changes. 

Please advise,

Ms. Iryna Petrel

P.S. - Attatched are some images that Georgia brought with her.

I - The loop entry in Cyprus, with a normal light flash

II - The strange light occurance in the hallway when the man entered, very abnormal

III - A picture taken of the hotel where the loop was

IV - A closer look at the hotel room where the man was rumored to stay during the day. Dark prints on the side wall are most likely blood

V - An unknown room, from the hotel, picture found on the dead man

[gin-no-g]

SJXKEIFH PLEASE THIS IS SO FUNNY

firstly, a hyperlink to the generator

secondly, my results (under the cut)

first of all, in I'm Tansu's party with my number of death being TWENTY THREE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED FOURTY TWO

WHAT is he making me DO

my arch nemesis is Yaad 😭😭😭😭 sir youre like 1000+ years old and my life expectancy as an ogre is like 60...... STOAp

also my LOVE INTEREST???!! izutsumi its okay that senshi is chill with exposing his panties to the world im not jealous and Please his food <3333 mmmfhfh

if this is meant to simply that izutsumi wants to be my love Interest, well baby I have two hands

I will bet all of my coinbugs that my most traumatic encounter was not the succubi themselves but rather "one serving of Hot succubus milk: milk--750ml, white powder (unidentified)--a lot"

its okay izutsumi I love you <333

anyways Im obsessed that Im most known for organizing a potluck, specifically a monster-dish potluck

like the implications????? how many people are eating monsters dishes now? how popular is it? does Yaad come??? is this an annual event? like did I get there to be a national holiday season celebrating falin's resurrection or what?

lastly my attributes.. on a five point scale i present to you,

magic: 0

strength: 2

stamina: 2

intelligence: 4

espionage: INFINITE !! BEHOLD ME, SO MUCH A SPY IN SECRECY THAT I AM INVISIBLE!!! (yeah this is a reference to Dimension 20's Burrow's End where the ranger casts pass without a trace and immediately says 'look check it out!')

ngl looking at my attributes maybe it Does make sense that Yaad is my arch nemesis aksifhebd

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[angelmartinez2022]

What they mean to me..

I like rainbow high dolls. i have a lot.. This will update with time..  Violet Willow This pretty lil lady was my first rainbow high doll. The one that, with that pretty purple hair and sweet face broke through the, I refuse to buy these dolls wall. The moment I took her out of that box i realized how much i was gonna love these dolls. Her hair was amazing, her out fit so detailed. She reminded me why i loved dolls so much in the first place. She brought back that connection to my Gramma, as I sat there and thought about what Gram Mavis would have done if she could have had one of these dolls. I was HOPELESSLY HELPLESSLY hooked. Ruby Anderson She was the second doll to catch my fancy. I have always loved red, and shades of red. That pretty red hair of hers was what drew me in. Finding her on sale on amazon was a bonus. It made me want her that much more when i saw she was on sale. Contrary to popular belief in my family, No one GIVES me the money for these things. I get out there and bust my butt, working even when i am sick sometimes, when i should be home in bed to  make the ends meet. When those ends do meet and i have a lil left over, its nice to indulge in something sweet and innocent as these lil dolls. That’s what ruby means to me when i look at her, I made the ends meet for another week and she was my lil reward. Poppy Rowan She was the one i waffled on, i stared at the screen and tried to convince my self is it ok to get her? Will i be able to afford her? She is the one i held off on the longest, saving money  lil bit here, and there to make sure I had enough that Buying at 25+ dollar doll was not gonna  put a dent in my finances. It made me happy when i added that last five bucks to my amazon gift account and ordered her. Like ruby pop’s is a doll that shows not only can i make the ends meet but that I know how to scrimp and save to get what I want with out hurting my self, or anyone else.

 Sunny Madison Yah this chickie was a real wild card, yet again a purchase on the ama of zons because i saw her on sale. I dont care if the box has a scuff. It was 10.00 off. I really didnt care much for her until i got her into my hands. OOOOOO BOY… never get them into your hands if you are waffling . That is the most sure fire way to loose the battle. The moment i looked into those sweet lil eyes of hers, I knew i was lost. I had to keep her and i loved her. She’s the one that I didnt expect to love but wound up cherishing. 

Jade Hunter Well folks.. This lil  lady was the one that I DIDNT want.. I have never been much a fan of green. (Unless your tommy oliver..back off man hes awesome) It’s one of those colors that i can take or leave. So i was on the fence about her for a long time. Eventually i had a lil extra cash.. And she was the last one i needed in the group. Much like sunny, once i had miss jade in my hands she stole my heart. There is something so sweet about her face. I’m not sure what it is, maybe its just her personality from the show as well. This is why i HAD to have winter break jade too!

Skyler Bradshaw Well this lil lady is a fun case. I have been at my current place of employment for a while. About three years. On regular basis they like to hand out 100.00 gift cards for I dunno reasons?  Well i had one that I had used for some groceries, but i had about 40.00 left on. Skyler and one of the hair mazing prom perfect dolls became my purchases with that left over fourty. She is just such a gentle soul when i look at her. I love the colors of her hair and the look of her clothing. And Everytime i look at her i will remember that silly gift card and how she was a reward from work. 

Amaya Raine I got the second version of this lovely girl first. I actually wound up with two of her because I wanted one for her cheer out fit and one for her every day look. Also she was ten bucks on amazon, so i found the second one just irresistible. She is indeed as lovely in person as she is in the cartoon. I love her sweet personality and demeanor, she is a lil cringy and awkward but i love her none the less. She reminds me of my self a lot. I was the awkward lil kid in high school and so i can totally feel that. Plus the rainbow thing, any other meanings aside i have always loved rainbows. They were always a symbol of hope to me, and looking at her just makes me feel hopeful ya know?

Ok whos next??? Ooooo… Bella Parker This lil lady was the one that I had a tiff over with a mom in the local target. I rare day that I was working first shift, and I got off early enough to go get her. Besides being one of the only ones i paid full price for, yah i wanted her THAT badly. I LOVE PINK. She was the one of the two that got a mom pissed off at me.  I went over to the home of  yea old bullseye and pulled this lovely lil lady off the shelf. Turned and found a woman with a “karen” hair cut glaring down her nose at me. I Looked at her, blinked and then asked her what her fucking problem was. Yah sorry lady, not on the clock, NOT being paid 14.00 and hour to be nice to you. I’m gonna swear at you if you piss me off. She went on a tirade about how awful it was for a grown woman to be getting dolls, and it was just shameful. I told her to go fuck her self and breezed past her and went to pay for my lil pink beauty.

[kirencer]

Pomegranate Honey | Chapter Two

apis mellifera

Word count: 3.2k

Relationship: Sugar daddy! Spencer Reid x GN!AFAB! Reader

Warnings: Spencer is a mildly horny bastard, Mentions of Missing Person, kissing, depiction of mild anxiety, and compulsive mourning. THIS SERIES IS ENTIRELY NSFW, 18+ ONLY PLEASE

A/N: Hey hey!! Chapter 2 is picking up and we get some new deets abt Reader!! Everything (and i mean everything) has its purpose 😈 <3

—————

[series masterlist]

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

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The want to check his phone was not based on any real need. Spencer knew that he had the right address; it was simply a worry. Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat as his hands tightened around the wheel. It was five twenty-three.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Five twenty-four.

Spencer opened his door and walked to the building's entrance. There were only two flights of stairs.

Five twenty-nine.

Five-thirty.

He knocked on the door number 33, as anxiety pooled in his gut. He’d only known Y/N for a day under a week, why did he think a date was a good idea? In fact, he’d only known Y/N for thirty-three minutes before agreeing for a date.

It’s just field research, he told himself. That didn’t stop his mouth from drying when the door opened.

Five thirty-two.

The person on the other side smiled; they were dressed moderately nice, perfect for something simple or something fancy.

“Hello, Doctor Spencer Reid, “ Y/N told. They didn’t make a move to shake his hand; his reputation must have preceded him.

His lips flatten into a straight line to hide the smile on his face caused by the giddy feeling replacing the anxiety. “Hi. Y/N, I presume?”

Their laugh is much prettier in person, Spencer notes. “Yep, you have the right person. Let me grab my phone and we can go!”

They duck back into their apartment and Spencer awkwardly stands by the door. He gulps as his eyes trail down their figure. They return in front of him and Spencer quickly meets their eyes.

A small brown blob tried to dart out the door, but Y/N quickly scooped it up into their arms. It was a chocolate brown kitten. It mewed at Y/N and Spencer saw big blue eyes peer up at him. Y/N held the cat close, “Spencer meet Hot Cocoa, Cocoa meet Spencer.”

“Hot Cocoa?”

Y/n giggled and nodded for Spencer to reach out and pet the wriggling mass. He did so and was rewarded with soft purrs.

Five fourty-four.

“Her ears, as you can see, are a way lighter brown than her body. Like a marshmallow. So, she’s my cup of Hot Cocoa.”

Any nerves he might have had continued to disappear as Y/N moved his stationary fingers to continue gently rubbing the kitten’s head. Their touch was light, but powerful and shook Spencer to his core. Spencer realized that he hadn’t said anything in a while and smiled up at Y/N, “It’s a cute name. It fits her - she’s tiny, but warm.”

The kitten jumped from Y/N’s arms to clumsily pounce onto Spencer’s shoes. Apparently, he shifted his foot and moved a shoelace. The kitten batted at the aglet and dug one of it’s paws into the well worn fabric of Spencer’s converse. Y/N leaned down to grab Cocoa at the same time Spencer did; their heads knocked right into each other.

Looking into Y/N’s eyes granted him a beautiful sight. The soul he had designed in his mind to liken the person was reflected back at him. The accuracy in which he had profiled them scared Spencer. How had he known that they were beautiful on the outside if this was the first time they’d met face to face? Could what he had done been classified as profiling or was it just him being a creep?

Spencer realized that he had been staring for far too long and cleared his throat. Warm flush spread from the back of his neck to his ears. He stood up and waited for Y/N to set the kitten down and close the door to stop its escape before he held out his arm. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/n interlocked their arm with his, “Such a gentleman. Yes, I am ready to go.”

When Spencer and Y/N reached the car, Y/N stopped to laugh. Spencer did not understand what was funny. He asked them about it once they were on the road.

“Err. Well, you drive a 1965 volvo 122s amazon, it surprised me because it was almost exactly what I pictured.”

That awoke more questions from Spencer. One of the ones he did ask was, “Do you know a lot about cars?”

Y/n hummed, looking over at him. He kept his eyes on the road. Not daring to look more than through his peripherals. “My uncle was a backyard mechanic, of sorts. I heard him talking about different cars and would look them up in the library.”

One question he didn’t ask stayed on his mind periodically.

Have you thought as much about me this week as I have thought about you?

He didn’t dare say it and chose a different, safer route. “Did you research a lot? I used to do almost the same thing. Of course I was finding every book I could about math and physics instead of cars.”

Spencer dared to look over at Y/N. He found that they were looking out the window almost longingly. “I suppose. The library was a fun place, so I read a lot and researched a lot about cars. No books could ever capture my mind as intensely as Anne of Green Gables and Pride and Prejudice, though.”

“It was the same with me. I also went to the park and played chess as a kid.”

Y/N’s eyes shot over to him. The expression that laid there was pure, childlike excitement. “You know chess?”

He nodded and continued to ignore the questions that rapidly were made in his brain. Were you alone as a kid, too? Of the two, which were your favorite? Would you care if I asked to go on another date, even though this one hasn’t even begun?

“Yep.” Spencer smiled and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Turn right. “I’m a genius, so It’d be odd if I couldn’t. Do you?”

“Nope,” they popped the ‘p’ much stronger than Spencer had. “I want to. I guess I just have this stupid fear that I’ll be so horrifically bad that whoever teaches me will hate me forever.”

“It’s not stupid!” he assured. The opportunity to see Y/N again arose and he took it. “I could teach you? If you’d like.”

A breathtakingly beautiful grin stretched across Y/N’s face. Spencer’s heart stopped and pounded in his ears at the same time.

“If this date goes well, I’d love too. Speaking of this date: where are we going?” Spencer debated telling them.

“I had a movie and dinner planned, but decided it was too in my ‘normal.’ So, I chose something different.” he paused. “Sort of. You’ll see.”

Spencer turned onto the last drive and started to pull into the parking lot. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “An aquarium?”

He nodded and parked. Luckily it was late and so not many people were there. The aquarium closed at eight thirty. It was currently six ten, they would have plenty of time for most exhibits.

“The aquarium has animals. Animals that could hold bacteria, bacteria that could, given the right opportunity, kill me. Animals and aquariums aren’t my thing.”

Spencer didn’t bother saying that prison had made it to where germs were the least of his problems or worries. It was only their first date, after all.

“Ah,” Y/N sighed while unbuckling their seatbelt. “Anadiplosis at it’s finest.”

A soft smile fell on his face at the word. Not many people cared to learn about the different names of the figures of speech. Y/N seemed perfect, in a way that would kill Spencer. After all, they weren’t on a real date. It was just an experiment, an opportunity to observe. An itching feeling told him that this likely wasn’t how Y/N normally acted with ‘Sugar Daddies’, but he brushed it off thinking he was simply imagining things.

He followed Y/N in getting out of the car. “Now,” Y/N announced with a smile, “Let’s go see some future sushi.”

ណ

“I think this is the best food I’ve ever had,” Y/N declared while taking a bite of their food. Spencer was glad that they enjoyed the meal. He didn’t often go out to eat at fancy places; oftentimes dinner was takeout from his favorite chinese restaurant.

“One of my coworkers, David Rossi, made that same dish for a team dinner. I hope that you’re lucky enough to have it as good.” Spencer had no idea what to say after that and kept his mouth shut. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind the silence.

“I’ve told you about my favorite books, but you haven’t given me the same pleasure.” Spencer sipped on his wine at the question. He did distinctly remember talking to them about The Illustrated Man.

“I told you about one of my favorites. Though, I should be more clear: my real favorite book is The Sign of The Four.”

Y/n breathed out deeply, raising their glass to their lips. “Sherlock Holmes. It’s rumored that the first usage of the word ‘Fandom’ is because of the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to them. “That’s not true.”

They laughed, “No. No it’s not. It could be, though! It was first thought to be used in 1903, so there’s always a chance.”

The conversation continued. Spencer knew he should be listening harder, asking better questions, or giving better answers, but he couldn’t. Yes, his body was physically at the table and he was retaining all of the information, however that didn’t mean that his mind was there. No, his mind was still in the aquarium.

Spencer was rewatching how Y/n’s eyes lit up as a shark swam toward the glass and then swooped back up. His hand, although now touching his fork, still felt the warmth of Y/N’s hand in his.

When they had both finished eating, Spencer requested the check and was happy that there were no qualms from Y/N about it. It seemed as though that was one thing that was similar to a date with a Sugar Daddy.

As they walked back to the car, Spencer found himself thinking about his favorite part of the night.

Y/n had dragged him to the exhibition full of the brightest and most fish. They had marveled and pressed their palms flat against the glass, Y/N’s cheek would definitely leave an imprint on the glass. Y/N had told Spencer to move closer for a better look, unknowingly inviting him to press his chest against their back. Spencer’s hands had wrapped around Y/N’s waist, not too high and not too low; he would never do anything to make them uncomfortable.

He’d then looked out into the exhibit and recited what he knew about the fish that resided in the aquarium.

What had made it his favorite part of the night wasn’t the closeness, though that did add to it, it was the fact that Y/N trusted him enough to let him close. Trust was something that Spencer had been wary of after prison.

He rarely trusted anyone anymore and was trusted by other people even less now that he had been convicted, even if falsely, for murder. He truly and deeply was thankful for Y/N to think of him as trustworthy, even if it was on such a basic level.

Spencer opened the door for Y/N and got the remark that he was again, ‘Such a gentleman.’ The things that ran through his mind were the opposite of what a gentleman was.

A gentleman wouldn’t dare think such crude thoughts about Y/N. If he were the gentleman that Y/N believed he was, then the past idea of pinning them against the glass would never have crossed, or lingered, on his mind. Spencer wouldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy the fake imagery that his mind provided of him doing just that, but he also found himself wanting to punch himself. The things his mind had conjured were sick and yet he enjoyed the idea of them.

Spencer sat in the car. The silence was deafening, but somehow just as comfortable as before. Y/N looked over at Spencer and he could tell there was something on their mind.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured into the darkness. His fingers didn’t move to put the key in, too afraid that the rumble of the engine would ruin the environment.

“It’s nine fifty-five. I have to make a call.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “That’s fine. You can step out, or I can?”

Y/N shook their head, “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll still just go to voicemail.”

Nine fifty-seven.

Y/N clicked the call button. Their earbuds were already in and Spencer could see a sort of sad resignation pass over their face. “It’s the last minute. I’ve exhausted everything I can. I miss you. I love you. Come home, Tristan.”

Their voice was almost overtaken by a sadness that lingered far longer than when they stopped talking.

Nine fifty-nine.

Y/N hangs up. Their eyes glazed over and they laughed.

“I’m sorry. What a horrible end to a date, huh?”

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked instead of telling Y/N that it was or wasn’t a horrible end. He simply didn’t know.

“No, I guess not.” Y/N sighed and Spencer started up the car, “My brother, he’s been missing for 59 weeks. Every week on Saturday I call him. Only during hour 21.”

Spencer was confused and concerned. He understood calling someone who was gone, but the ritualistic and almost impulsive calling seemed odd. He wasn’t one to judge, though.

“I’m very sorry. Is there a reason for 2100 to be the only hour?” Spencer inquired, unable to hide his curiosity. He sincerely believed that Y/N was going to punch him for being a douchebag.

“Tristan said that the best thing to ever happen to him happened on Saturday at Nine P.M.”

Spencer pulled out of the Parking Lot.

“I was born on a Saturday at Nine P.M. So, it was him becoming a big brother, I guess.”

He smiled at Y/N to make them feel better. “That’s sweet. I hope that you see him again.”

Spencer didn’t say statistics about the missing people who came home, Y/N didn’t need facts, they needed someone to care. Although Spencer knew nothing about most people’s feelings, he had a nagging feeling that Y/N wanted some physical comfort. Spencer held his hand out without a word and looked delighted when their hand intertwined with his. It only lasted five minutes till Spencer had to move his hand back to the stick - curse his car for stopping their hand holding!

He understood it, though, it was a bit weird to hold hands on a first date.

The drive was quiet and smooth. Traffic wasn't too bad and the clouds had finally relinquished to the shine of the stars. It was almost poetic; the way they twinkled brightly in the night and the glow of the Moon, in her almighty glory, fell through the open window and onto Y/N’s lashes and cheeks. Spencer found it odd that their eyes were closed, until he realized Y/N was asleep.

Spencer draped his jacket over them and hoped that their nights and dreams were calmer and sweeter than his.

When he woke Y/N up, Spencer lightly tapped on their arm. Thay had only been asleep for twenty minutes, so they would not feel even more tired due to an interrupted REM cycle. If they had slept for longer thirty, Spencer was ashamed to say that he would’ve sat in his car to let them sleep the full ninety minutes.

Y/N awakened with a sigh and looked over to Spencer and then at their surroundings. They closed their eyes before looking back to Spencer, “I’m so sorry. Did I fall asleep?”

Spencer nodded. “It’s okay, you… looked like you could use a bit of rest.”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/N did look tired, it just wasn’t the whole truth. The truth was that Spencer didn’t mind them sleeping because it meant they felt safe; he wanted someone to feel safe around him. He felt like he wouldn’t mind finding comfort in Y/N.

Spencer wanted to be Y/N’s Sugar Daddy, and that revelation scared the shit out of him.

He would love to lavish and pamper them with whatever they wanted - he rarely spent money and had plenty to use. In return, he would be able to find peace with someone, even if only in the form of basic and semi-platonic intimacy. To Spencer, the entire idea sounded like heaven.

The two of them made their way into the building. The elevator ride to Y/N’s loft was stinged with electricity that flowed to Spencer from Y/N’s direction. Either a wire was loose or Y/n wanted Spencer’s touch as much as Spencer wanted to touch Y/n.

Bad, he told himself. You said you were getting better. Wanting to grope your date in an elevator is not it!

Their knuckles brushed together as the doors opened. Spencer would give anything to have reached out and grabbed their hand. Y/N stopped at their door and looked up to Spencer. He hoped that he was not imagining the slight look of sadness and lingering hope residing there.

“This is me,” they whispered, yet it’s futile; Spencer knew this is where they lived.

“Alright,” he answered with a quick smile. Spencer went to turn away, but Y/N called out to him with a ‘Wait!’

Spencer couldn’t stop himself. When he turned around, he pushed forward to smash his lips to Y/N’s. His tongue traced the seam of their mouth, before deepening the kiss. Y/N gasped into his mouth and Spencer was using his hips to pin theirs to the door - seeing as his hands were in use to cradle Y/N’s face.

Their lips were soft against his and tasted faintly of the strawberry chapstick he’d seen them applying throughout their date. Y/N kissed quietly, like they want to be hushed whispers on a rainy day. Spencer was the opposite; he knew how he kissed. He could feel himself practically devouring the other party. They didn’t complain though.

When Y/N needed to breathe, they pushed Spencer away with their palm. Spencer didn’t notice that they were pushing away at first, by then he had to force himself to break away.

“Sorry,” he stated sheepishly. He wasn’t sorry. Spencer backed up to give Y/N space, just in case. His phone pinged and he already knew it was a case. Spencer looked towards Y/N.

Y/N smiled at him, unlocking their door and backing up into it slightly. They bit down on their bottom lip with a grin, it seemed that they already knew that his work was calling for him. “I’ll text you about that second date. Good night, Spencer Reid.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he said, but the door was already closed.

Spencer was so, so fucked.

—————

[Join the taglist here!]

[taglist: @reidgraygubler @mercy-burning @abby187 @ineedafatherfigure @vellichor01 @probablycryingg @morganwilliams @bakugouswh0r3]

[ferigrievance]

its three fourty five (am !!)

[trippingeyes]

MAD AS RABBITS // PANIC! AT THE DISCO

[beau-draws-and-cries]

Late Night Demonics - Hunter Clawthorne AU Oneshot

Summary: Hunter is still adapting to the little demon sharing the bedroom with him

Tags: Hunter clawthorne au, king clawthorne, the owl house, fluff

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33452722

"Psst. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter." King baped him on the face. 

"What!" Hunter said, annoyed by being woken up when he was almost dozing off. The small demon was on his chest, holding one of the plushies Eda gave to him, with those big yellow and pink eyes seemingly staring into his soul "What do you want??? Stop baping me!"

"I, huh, need to go to the bathroom." He muttered, like he was ashamed of asking for it.

"You know where the bathroom is." Hunter said, a bit dry, trying to get into a comfortable position again. 

King looked between the door and Hunter, whimpering a bit, and when Hunter closed his eyes, King baped him on the face again.

"I really, really, really need to go." Now he got sad eyes on, begging something without words, the said eyes slightly glowing into the dim light. Hunter groaned, it looked like he had no choice. He slowly got up, and King went to the floor, near Hunter's leg. 

On the corridor, Hunter was already really annoyed and it got worse when something cracked on the house and King hugged his leg tightly, closing his eyes and whining. When he looked down to King to yell for him to let go of him, something hit Hunter like a truck. That was an actual demon child. Small, scared, needing comfort. He could talk like he knew about stuff and like he lived a long life before being this small child, but King was a 4 years old or so that still was scared of the dark and other stuff, and needed help to stop being scared and just…. Go to the bathroom.  

"Hey, huh, that sound is Hooty snoring. The walls are kinda alive so sometimes the whole house breathes. It freaked me out a lot when I moved here because it seemed like the house would fall apart with me inside. But after you get used to, it's kinda soothing." Hunter calmed him down, remembering that that was how Eda explained it to him on the second week he spent there.

"Really?" The house breathed again, making him scared, but not as much as before, looking around instead of hiding his face into Hunter's leg.

"See? Not scary at all. Just old Hooty-hoot doing his… stuff." They kept walking down the corridor, and finally got into the bathroom. King quickly used it, feeling brave enough to close the door while at it (which Hunter thanked), and then Hunter helped him to reach the sink and wash his paws.

"Every time you come here, wash your paws well. You can get sick and get other people sick if you don't."

King nodded, doing as he was told, and was put on the floor again. They walked half of the corridor when Hunter scooped him up, seeing that his small, short legs were getting tired, and after all, the fur and bone didn't feel that bad against his skin, unlike other witches' skin (one of the reasons he hated the playground. The kids would keep hugging him and touching without asking. And for some reason it always felt sticky and made Hunter want to cry and throw up at the same time), so he could stand it brushing on his arms.

He walked back into the bedroom, putting King into his bed and tucking him in, then laying down on his own bed.

"Night night." King said.

"Night night, little guy." Hunter answered.

"When I get back my powers, I will be remembering this." He said, again telling that story of his powers being stolen with his crown.

"Thank you, King. I would be honored." Hunter played along, smiling. Some minutes passed and Hunter felt something climbing his bed, getting on his chest "Need to go to the bathroom again?" 

"I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I am kinda awake too. Huh, have you ever read Demonics: a detailed encyclopedia?" 

"No! What is that?" 

"It's a book I checked in from the library a while ago. It's very interesting, but I never had an actual demon to read it with me." Hunter smiled at him, and got up to get the book in his wardrobe. After sitting on the bed, he lit up his bedside light and King cuddled up in his arms, looking at the book "Do you wanna choose a chapter or can we start from the beginning?"

"I wanna start from the beginning!" King said, excited. Hunter did so, starting to read the introduction for him, and at some point King stopped him "How do you know this is written there?"

"Oh, huh, I read the words on the page. Those formed by the little letters."

"What letter is that?" King pointed to a number 5.

"That's a number. They're used for counting things. Its name is number five. Here, let me show you the numbers. There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine. There's also the zero that means nothing. Then you can mix and match to form bigger numbers." He skipped to the last page of the encyclopedia "Like the number 867." 

"That's a lot of numbers." King said, amazed.

"Yea, and those are the meanings." Hunter proceeded to show the numbers but now with his hands, closing the hands to show zero. King seemed to be interested, tail waving lightly "Then we got twenty, thirty, fourty… and we go on and on and on and on because numbers are infinite."

"What does infinity means?" King asked, raising his small fingers (claws?) To try to count them.

"It means that something never ends."

"Woah, that's so cool! I hope this book never ends."

"Sorry buddy, but we got only like, 820 pages worth of content. But after we're done with this one, we can get another book at the library."

"And then it will be infinite?"

"Well, no." Hunter said, scratching King's head "But there's a whole lot of books, and it would take a very long time to read all of them. It would look infinite for us." 

King closed his eyes, getting comfier into Hunter arms. After sometime like this, he opened his eyes again, pointing at a letter B on the page.

"What is this letter?"

"It's the letter B. Boiling Isles starts with a B."

"Ohh. So all words start with letters?"

"Yes, all words, like my name or yours."

"And which letter is the first on my name?"

Hunter looked on the page for a K, and got a piece of paper and pen from the drawer. He pointed at a letter K.

"It starts with this letter." He then wrote it on paper "Then there's an I. Can you copy the letter I am pointing at the paper?" He handed the pen, and King nodded, making a shaky I after the K "And now there's an N." He pointed at the N, and waited until King copied it "And then a G. K-I-N-G. King. That is your name."

King cheered, asking for another piece of paper and writing his name over and over. After he got tired of writing the same thing, he cuddled up on Hunter's lap again.

"Can we continue the book?" 

"Sure thing, King." Hunter nodded, continuing to read the book for the small demon, until eventually both fell asleep.

[lethargicsunlight]

'Demon': Prologue ♡ BakugouXFem!Reader (Book 1)

Alright I'm doing it.

I'm doing the thing.

It literally keeps me awake at night I gotta write thisss *cough* okay

Originally I was only going to post this unto Wattpad, but getting traction on their website is a little more difficult than good ole' Tumblr, so I'll be posting it on both. Feel free to visit my Wattpad here: LINK if you want to support my writing on that end. (I would so appreciate it)

This post is going to run pretty long, as it will host both the prologue of the story and my author's notes. Just a heads up.

Summery:

A slow-burn action/romance where you begin in the bowels of a Villain base and rise up to join U.A.'s top Hero Class. This life was your choice. In the event of learning then losing the love of a friend, you make a decision that changes your reality at the core--to become an imposter among villains and bring them down from the inside out. The organization that ruined your premature perfect life was known as H.H., after their leader Head-Honcho. His crime of choice: intelligence. Training and conducting espionage agents and assassins across Japan as a means to further the dark underground network. Your training began at thirteen, after managing to impress the multi-faced villain with your stealth and your conviction. Rumors would soon spread through the dark alleys of Naruhata City of a masked assassin known as Demon, whose bare face could steal the souls of her targets. Everything appears to be going to plan; but the Hero Agencies you've been slipping information to are calling for an end to your superior sooner than you had anticipated. Your time as 'Demon' is limited. What will happen when your world comes crashing down? Where will you go, when everything you had known you helped to destroy?

AUTHOR'S NOTES

This is a slow burn fan-fic; and I am not italicizing those words without reason. This is going to be an agonizingly slow action-packed adventure-romance. This is a self-insert story, just like my three-part series 'Some Combat Training' (link) where you as the protagonist will not be described outside of being female, general physique, and a generalization of your uniform(s). Skin, hair, eyes, etc. will not be described at all--besides ambiguous adjectives. That said, I am taking liberties with physique and stature due to the nature of the story. You're abilities rely on stealth as well as close and fast combat, therefore you are described as 'small', 'lithe', 'athletic', and all of those other fancy little ninja woman words. Your personality has been shaped by the events of your life and the people within it; but if I were to describe it I would choose words like: Intelligent, determined, self-sacrificing, quiet, humble, and studious. The story will follow along with the anime for the most part starting at around the time of the USJ event, though at some point the story will branch off and become more my original concoction. (Such as, fast-forwarding the time-line to when the characters are older.) Some information about you as the protagonist will not be written here, as I plan for those to be revelations within the story. There will be angst, blood and gore, adult-humor, trauma, death, bad language and warnings will be listed with each chapter as needed. Feel free to comment on those chapters as soon as you see something that isn't mentioned that might make someone (if not yourself) feel uncomfortable. I will not be offended. This story is meant to get a little dark. Please comment if you can about your opinions! I have never posted an on-going fic before, and anything you have to say I would appreciate! <3 Now, please enjoy this short prologue~ Chapter 1 is being reviewed and edited, to be release very soon! 👹🖤⛓🔪💣 ...four...five...six.. You counted the footsteps behind your left ear, round the corner of the dim abandoned subway. You'd been stationary; still so long that your digits had all but numbed. Turn... one...two...three... The footsteps were distancing from the hall your attention had been set upon. A T-section, where the entity had gone down and away from your destination. You had to cross that 'T' to get to the junction--where you needed to leave a note completely undetected. The slightest mis-step would lead to suspicion. Suspicion would lead to investigation. Investigation lead to the five percent chance they could find that note--and no percentage was too small. It all hinged on absolute perfection. Nine...ten...eleven... This was their fifth round. A patrol. You had to make sure their movement were predictable before this would work--despite having successfully delivered the note fourty-two times and counting--you did not have the luxury of assumption. Only if their stride was even, only if you absolutely knew they were moving at a certain pattern, could you depend on the following information: It took fifteen steps before they would reach the broken light on their route. The haze of the dust and pollutants reflected in the working lights prior to that was your cover. Cross the 'T', leave the note, and cross it again. Out of sight and out of earshot, mission successful. Fourteen... f-- You turn, and it takes three steps to arrive at the drop to the tracks. You bunch and leap, and even the quietest friction of fabric from your uniform creases your brow. You land, just outside of the light's reach on the thin concrete slab beyond. Your eyes track the metals, the jutting wall tiles; that with which the barest touch could emit a sound--and you maneuver around them. Under, creeping low--and over, leaping to land on the balls of your feet and checking your balance before moving forward. Careful to not cast a shadow into the hall. Paced, so as not to move too quickly nor too slowly. Counting, because every second was controlled and calculated. You reach the juncture, and once again

edging the light you propel yourself to land back on the main thoroughfare. The next obstacle--removing the loose brick. Behind a metal bench centered between two closed-in stair cases, where the tile meets what had once been a decorative brick mosaic; eight bricks right and eighteen bricks up, was your note's destination. Just above your head, where you had to bend at an awkward angle to reach. Not practical, less detectable. You're wearing tight fabric gloves with grips on the pads, but thin enough you can feel the texture of the brick as you gently lace your fingers at each of the corners. Lifting, centering, and pulling the brick from its slot. Holding it just right, you can avoid the loud scrapes and grinds--but you have to hold it perfectly centered. Success. In goes the note. As does the brick, back into the wall. But you're only half-way done. Leap. Quiet, maneuver, avoid, measure. Silent. Leap. Hide. You're back is once again at the wall, the footsteps of the lackey you'd been avoiding closing in proximity to the Hall you'd just left. Four... five... six... Your eyes focus on the wall opposite of you as you ground yourself. The next few seconds determined a new reality. Either they followed their pattern, or they didn't. You had to be flexible. No assumptions. If they move towards the junction, you have to follow. If they move towards you, you'd calculate on your feet. Seven... eight... nine.. Turn. ...one...two...three.. You don't relax. Even after you count their steps to fifteen, even as you slip away back through the hall, even as you exit the unattended vent and breathe in fresh air--you don't relax until you're sitting on the floor in your room, calming down, your mask in your hands. After checking to make sure your door had not been opened, and no one had looked for you. No tracks in the dust. Only then do you allow yourself to ruminate on the contents of the note you had written, because you could still see every letter of it in your mind. ------ 55-1, Minami Senju 5-chome, Musutafu Target: Fukui Mitsuo Floor 8 3 AM. 7. Accompanied. Head. ------ For the briefest moment, you feel your hands shake. They always did on these nights. Realistically, you'd left no openings. Tested and re-tested every method. Calculated every movement. Left nothing to chance. But the 'what-if's' still linger, and you let them. The fear is good. It keeps you on your toes, your mind on edge, your tongue to the roof of your mouth. If he found out, you wouldn't know it until it was over. So you pretended he already did. Below you, underground in his base, plotting how to get at you when you were most vulnerable. Tear you to pieces, throw you in a pit or in a cage. No--too risky, he'd just kill you. A dead-end is better than a possibility. You'd learned that from him. You swallow, head turning so the amber morning sky is in your peripheral. All things considered, you would still unfortunately need sleep. You cherished the brief moments of sunlight and let your mind swim in the memories of your childhood spent in the daytime; before retiring to the broken and borrowed mattress. Seven days. You would check the location of your note in two. If there is another note in response, you would create a reactionary plan. The pattern continues. Until he finds out. ...Until he finds out.

[somuch-4-stardust]

*ahem* [wilbur in the recording: “remember to shout a.m!” “1 2 3″ ]  ITS THREE FOURTY FIVE (AM!!!) AND I JUST BIT MY TONGUE UPDATE ME ON UR LIFE [tommy: *laughs excitedly*] AND NOW UVE FOUND THE ONE BUT I DONT LIKE HIS EYES AND I DISTRUST THEIR NAME AND I DON LIKE THEIR HAIRCUT THEY LOOK LIKE A PRICK (A PRICK!!) BUT ITS ALL THE SAME U HOLD ME GOODBYE UR TONGUE RAZOR SHARP I MISS [wilbur irl: *something about mark i think* *laughs* *mimicking mark in the recording-* “a pRICK”] WHEN IT WOULD BITE MINE NOW IT HURTS MY EYELINE- [wilbur irl, talking over the recording: *giggles* “this bits completely changed this bits completely changed im gonna talk over this wAHHHHHHHHH”] [tommy: “wait oh you paused it??”] [wilbur irl: “no keep going”] I CAN STILL SMELL HER PERFUME [tommy: *laughs enthusiastically*] [wilbur irl: “yeah youve heard this right?”] [tommy: “yeah yeah but *trails off a bit* but not in a while”] DID IT RUB OFF ON YOUUUUU

[the-fiction-witch]

Darth Duck

REAL LIFE SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X REAER RATING: FUNNY + SUGGESTIVE

"Welcome... everyone to another Episode of Thomas and Y/n have taken to much of something and are now going to do something that's probably a bad idea" Y/n smiled as she sat in a mesh dress with a bright red and black bra and Thomas sat at the table beside her drinking vodka shirtless

"Welcome to drunk food reviewing"

"Not what we are doing?"

"Aren't we?"

"No Thomas"

"Ohhh... what are we doing?"

"Read the board Thomas"

"I can't... its over there. Read it to me y/n" he sighed laying on her shoulder

"We are doing the video we have to age restrict? remember Thomas?"

"Ooooooooohhhh the sexy video?"

"Yes, the sexy video, that's why you don't have a shirt on"

"... Did I remove my shirt? or did you do that?"

"You did that"

"They why don't I remember."

"Because of the state you are in sugar cube" she laughs kissing his head and patting his hair

"Can we get nuggets when we are done filming?" he whispered

"we have Nuggets? there on there way with the food bicycle man"

"Hurry Up food Man! I want tiny chicken  shapes!" he complained

"I should probably get to the point?"

"Why? Sally will edit for us"

"We can't rely on sally"

"why not? I love sally, she had a great..... face"

"Does she? Incase you can't notice. We are half drunk and also... kinda stoned. Maybe a little tiny bit"

"You're stoned! I'm just drunk!"

"We have had... between us. Three bottles of wine. a bottle of whiskey and half a bottle of vodka. and then like a teaspoon of weed"

"I think it was like a cup of weed"

"it was a small pot, i smoke it because Thomas brought it back for me from his holiday in Holland, He did not smoke any, However he was in the room when I did. so I think you have like a baby contact high" she says "don't do drugs kids... but we are adults. ish. Kinda. Legally we are adults."

"I know you are but what am I?"

"This is the issue is that Thomas is a weird childish person anyway, and then you get him drunk and he becomes like six but a six year old who just read what all the swear words are, and when he's high... yeah this is what happens he just becomes like a weird whatever this is"

"Fight me bittch! I am the king!"

"Yes Thomas, yes you are" she laughs cuddling him "You wanna know what we are doing today? Or do you wanna sober up a little bit?"

"Tiny sober? while you explain the thing we are doing" he says leaving a moment

"We are reviewing weird sex toys I found online, Now if I sound way more together thats because I didn't drink as much becuase... I didn't want a repeat of the Barbie cake incident. and also because I think I have way more of a tolerance then Thomas does" she says as Thomas returned with a coffee "Better now?"

"Yes"

"Its the weed, that if fucking you up right now. it just makes me really calm and slow... you just fucking go off the bloody walls"

"Yes it is. so. show me the first sexy thing"

"I am the first sexy thing"

"Yes you are, you are very sexy, May I nuzzle with the boobs?"

"No"

"But I wanna"

"But you can't we are filming right now Thomas"

"But! Boob!"

"No boobs for you"

"Fine... I'll grope my own boobs" He sighed groping his own chest

"I think you are still too out of it to function"

"Im functioning, I have great tits"

"You do, you want the first toy or not?"

"Yes! bing it to me"

"Here you go" Y/n said putting  a rubber duck on the table she clicked a button and this yellow duck began to vibrate across the table

"Who is this for? Becuase... I cannot stick my dick in it. and as far as I was aware that is the point of most male sex toys"

"Sticking your dick in it?"

"Sticking my dick in it" he says "To be fair I put my dick alot of places I probably shouldn't" he says looking at the toy

"You do. Like your ex girlfriend" she giggled

"Ooohhh that was a low blow"

"I assume for girls becuase... vibration"

"Guys like vibration too"

"Yeah but.. I think its for ladies Or just in general as a vibrator" she says "Rate this out of One to five climaxes?"

"Two, Its meh"

"I'd say three, just is nothing else because it amuses me"

"Like your exboyfreind"

"Bitch..." she sighed "Would you rather have thids duck then your rubber duck upstairs?"

"No, Becuase my ruber duck is amazing"

"Is he?"

"Yes! How dare you insult My duck" He says getting up a moment and when he returned he had a little bath duck dressed like Vader "He is darth Duck." "Darth Duck?"

"Yes. He murdered a group of eggs because of his brain washing and now has a deathboat that goes around destroying ponds"

"So you would rather have a tiny sith duck in your bathtub then this vibrating guy?"

"Yes I would"

"Okay... he comes home with me then"

"what's next?"

"This is an Egg Massager"

"I am Aware of these"

"Ohh are you?"

"I use to have on of these" "DId you? like seriously?"

"Yeah, its way smaller and easier to hide then like a full fleshlight, even like the fleshlights where its just the jelly plastic are hard to hide, hard to store, hard to clean, hard to travel with. so yes I got one of these and it is amazing! its not to big, not to small so it breaks, you can turn it inside out to clean it" He explained

"Thats on the internet now thomas"

"I know. I have crossed a line just being in this fucking video"

"so lets just say fuck it and jump over it?"

"The line has been crossed so Lets just run with it"

"Is this what a virgina feels like to men?" she asks sticking her fingers in it

"A little bit. as much as any male sex toy does. I have yet to stick my dick in a sex toy and actuly feels like a virgina. but thats not really the point. Its like I imagine vibrators and such like aren't really meant to feel like getting fucked. but you know if they feel like a dick then great"

"I get that yeah... this is like fourty pounds though?"

"Its worth it I think. As a man"

"How many orgasms out of five?"

"Four and a half orgasms"

"Better then your ex girlfreind?"

".... yes"

" this product is thomas aproved"

"Few sex toys recive that"

"Yeah becuse your boring and don't want sexy toys"

"I like sex toys. but I would rather just... have sex"

"okay so like not mastabation toys like partner toys?"

"Yeah" "Like handcuffs, lube, maybe like one of those vibes for men and ladies?"

"Yeah, more like that. I hope my ex doesn't find this video"

"Ohh she's gonna be mad at you"

"Also... My future children. If you are watching this and I birthed you please do not watch this"

"You birthed them? when did you grow a womb?"

"Yesterday"

"Moving on! you want some lube thomas?"

"Hit me with the lube"

"Here you go, its... strawberry flavoured" she says "You like strawberries thomas"

"I do, But I don't get the point"

"The point of lube?"

"No the point of it being flavoured" He says "I don't get that"

"Its for like... if I was for jerking you off and i needed lube I could use this and then after jerking you off for a while I could suck your dick and it would be strawberry flavoured"

"Or I guess... for eating out also? for the same reason"

"yeah for that. I hope there arent just people like eating lube. If so... Get help Because thats a problem" she says putting some on her arm and licking it "Its not bad, tastes like... strawberry chew its"

"Gimme" he says putting some on his hand "Okay frist it looses points for being bad lube"

"what?"

"This is shit lube y/n"

"How... how can you tell that?"

"rub it between your fingers, Now good lube you should be able to separate your hands and it should get stringy like it reaches between your hands"

"Like slime?"

"Yes like slime" he says "or put some on your hand good lube you should put your hand upside down and it shouldn't move it should stay on your hands"

"You have alot of lube kwnollage"

"I do." he says before having a lick of the lube "Where are you getting strawberry chew its? it tastes like strawberry cough syrup" He sighed "Do we have to do anymore? Can I go to bed?"

[war-sword]

2019 Draco/Reader Secret Santa Fic Exchange - A Flurry of Memories

summary: Christmastime has always help many memories for Y/N, but now so many of them are imbued with Draco Malfoy, it’s hard to think of much else. A/N: ahhahahaha holy fuck. so i went back and forth between 2 versions of this fic for a couple of weeks before picking this one and i wrote the majority of the 2k in about... 3 hours. so. take what you will.thank you to bae aka @eltanin-malfoy for organizing this exchange!!! i hope you enjoy! prompt: first snowfall words: 2.6k taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @silversslytherin @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo

◈◈◈

A drop of wine made its way down the side of the bottle, ending it’s journey by staining the napkin below with a bloody star burst. Y/N tapped the top of her glass with her nail, listening to the gentle ring as she gazed out the window. It had begun to snow– the first of the season. 

Y/N was desperately trying to get into the holiday spirit, and she grabbed her wand with her free hand to point it at her gramophone in the corner to flip her Celestina Warbeck holiday record. The needle landed gently on the b-side and “Merry Christmas, Happy Goblin Days” started with a quiet crackle. A song that would normally make her want to get up and sing, only coaxed a sigh from her. 

Christmas used to be a fun time when she was in school. Large parties at the family estates, wearing fancy dresses and stuffing themselves silly with horderves. Sneaking into their father’s studies to snoop through the drawers before running away giggling, Ms. Zabini’s extravagant gifts of fine jewelry that every year got more stunning. Loading their pockets with olives and crackers, and braving the cold outside to try and coax the Malfoy’s albino peacocks close enough to stroke. And the one year they all stayed at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, it’s own league of fun and dressing up.

And then she remembers no Christmas parties at all.

Now she has no big house to live in, no fun parties to go to, and the first night she needs to build a fire in her little house always stirs up feelings of nostalgia and longing. It’s annoying to feel depressed for no reason, but almost just as annoying when she realizes, year after year, it’s about how winter reminds her of him. 

The dregs at the bottom of Y/N’s glass have created interesting patterns. She doesn’t remember emptying her glass again. The snow outside is coming down in big flakes now, and her record has gone silent. She still has a few hours to kill before she needs to start dinner. Perhaps a walk in the fresh snow can get her out of her Christmas funk. 

Y/N pulls on her boots and coat at the door. She decides a hat is in order with all this heavy precipitation, and reaches up to the top shelf in the hall closet to grab her warm knit one. Something else comes down with the hat, and a length of emerald fabric pools at her feet. At one end are the initials D.M. in elegant silver stitching. Y/N had forgotten she’d had this. She considers kicking to the back of the closet for a moment while her chest swirls with a concoction of emotions, before snatching up the scarf and looping it around her neck.

A scarf is a scarf, and it’s unfortunately as warm as she remembered.

Y/N and Pansy Parkinson laid side by side on the cold oak floors of Malfoy Manor, carefully monitoring the planks for creaking. “I haven’t heard anything for a few minutes,” Pansy whispers.

“Me either,” Y/N says back.

“Check the clock again.”

Y/N carefully moves herself into an upright position and pads across the floor to check the clock on the nightstand of the room she and Pansy are sharing for the night. Together, the hands read exactly twelve fourty-five. She pads back and lies down next to Pansy again, taking a moment to steady her breathing before relaying the information.

“Shall we go?”

Y/N bites her lip, pretending to contemplate. “Yes. Should we take a candle?”

“No, stipud, we have to go in the dark. The moon is out. We should be able to see.”

Y/N looks back at the bed to look at the lumps under the covers they had created with pillows, and then follows Pansy out into the hall. Sure enough, moonlight streaks through the windows. The girl’s socked feet make no sounds as they count the doors and go around the corner. When they reach Draco’s bedroom, they stop and hold their breath to listen at the door. Y/N can hear that Draco, Blaise, and Theo are still awake and talking.

Pansy gently knocks on the door three times, waits, and then another three times, before cracking it open so they can slip inside. Abandoning all care, they sprint the few steps into Draco’s room before launching onto the bed with their other friends. “We had to wait a little while longer,” Y/N explains, “Dobby was in the hall cleaning.”

Draco, who is perched atop a pillow and leaning against his elaborate headboard, rolls his eyes. “Stupid elf. He should be downstairs cleaning, where the party was, not up here. I can’t believe our family got stuck with such a useless one.”

“That’s why my mum just got rid of ours and hired a person,” Blaise says.

“I’ve told father we should do the same, but he insists that people are too inclined to snoop,” Draco’s eyes glint with importance. “At least house elves you can be sure they won’t tell anyone anything.”

Pansy nods along with Draco as he speaks. Y/N curls her feet under her and rearranges her nightgown about her legs. “Have you tried asking Dobby about the Heir of Slytherin? If he has been around your family for a long time, maybe he knows something.” Y/N tries to steer the conversation to what they were discussing before being sent to bed, a topic they all found very important and adult.

“I doubt he would’ve had access to important information like that, besides, it’s not me,” Draco says.

Blaise, Theo, and Pansy all do the same. “I don’t understand who it could be if it’s none of us. We’re the most important people in our house,” Theo says.

“Maybe it’s a Pureblood who got sorted into another house, and wants revenge on the sorting hat,” Pansy suggests.

Blaise wrinkles his nose. “Ew, like Weasley?”

They all laugh at that, and spend hours into the morning spinning increasingly wild theories, only to be found in a heap on Draco’s bed the next morning by their parents.

The snow outside is satisfyingly crisp under Y/N’s feet. She looks down, mesmerized as her boots cut into the fresh, untouched snow and leave behind a perfect imprint of her boot. She refocuses her eyes to her hair, spilling over her coat and scarf as thick white flakes catch on the strands. Only a few minutes into her walk, she’s dappled with snow. 

Thinking about old times in Malfoy Manor make her smile. The property itself isn’t very far from her current home. After the war, she’d tried to move around to various wizarding communities, but none were all too welcoming. Even though Y/N’s family’s estate was lost to her, being back in the area she grew up brought her some comfort. Even if Draco’s home was still only a few miles away. 

The empty road lined with trees soon gave way to a tiny town. It was once filled with bustling shops for the magical folk in the area, disguised as run down buildings to any muggle passing from afar. Now, most of the stores truly were that, only a few like the food markets, apothecary and bookshop were still open. As Y/N passed the old tailor’s shop, she tilted her head to the sky, sticking her tongue out to catch a snowflake.

“Y/N, have you given any more thought to what colors we should wear to the ball?” Draco moves the letter away from his face, letting his arm flop off the side of the couch. 

Y/N sets down her quill next to the divination chart she’s working on. “Last I heard from mum, she was sending me three to try in green, ice blue and some shade of purple. Do you care to look at the clippings of the different styles she owled me yesterday?”

“Not particularly,” Draco sighs, looking past her and into the distance. At Y/N’s beat of silence, Draco moves his eyes back to her. “I am sure whatever you pick will look very pretty,” he adds, lifting his mother’s letter to emphasize.

Y/N smiles a little despite herself. “I don’t know why she keeps writing you, my own mother is just as accessible.”

“I know!” Draco groans. The fire in the common room hearth gently illuminates his handsome features he’s grown into the past two years. Y/N goes back to her essay. “Pans still not talking to you?” Draco asks, tossing the letter on the table and turning on his side to look at Y/N more directly. 

Y/N just shakes her head. 

“Well, she’ll get over it soon enough, whatever it is.” 

But Y/N knew exactly the reason why Pansy wasn’t talking to her, and the reason was sitting right in front of her. Pansy could be stubborn sometimes, but this was going on for nearly a week now with no conversation outside of anything in a classroom, if that. “I just want us all to have a fun time at Christmas here,” Y/N sighs, resting her head on her hands. “It’s probably the only time our parents will let us stay here over break.”

Draco looks at Y/N sympathetically. “I know. I’ll try to talk to her again tomorrow. You sure you don’t know what’s got her bothered?”

Y/N bites her lip before deciding it’s stupid to hold out. “I think she’s upset about who she’s going to the ball with.”

“What?” Draco says, wrinkling his brow. “Why, what’s wrong with Theo?”

Y/N picks her quill back up and pretends to contemplate her essay agan, so her words seem more casual. “I think she’s upset that you didn’t ask her.”

“Well, that’s dumb. She knows damn well I can ask who I want, and I asked you.” Draco catches Y/N’s eyes and gives her a sly smile. “I’ll talk to her. I dunno what’s got her wand in such a twist these days.”

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Anytime. Hey, speaking of dates, who do you reckon Potter is bringing?”

“Maybe Snape.”

Draco laughs, and Y/N can’t help but feel warm inside.

Y/N is long past the shops, and is almost near what is considered the park for the area. Mostly a collection of short, winding trails through the trees, now transformed into a gigantic snowglobe in less than an hour. Bird sounds are amplified in the silence the snow brings, and two robins chase each other across the path. Their red feathers look beautiful against the white. Y/N walks her favorite trail, stopping to look at the frost covering the berries on a bush, and check a branch to see how many inches of snow have fallen so far. At the place where her path converges with another, she notices another set of footprints. They lead in the direction of the lake, and she decides to follow them, Y/N carefully stepping in the tracks of whoever came before her.

The snow has significantly improved Y/N’s mood. The snowflakes clinging to her hair and eyelashes make her feel like a winter fairie, and the combination of the wine and her layers has her feeling cozy against the cold. She crosses her feet over to fit in the footprints, like she’s walking a tightrope. Y/N is so focused on her footsteps again that she doesn’t realize right away that she’s reached the lake. 

When a familiar root forces her to take a large step into her next foorprint she looks up. The lake hasn’t frozen over yet, and it’s dark water stands out in contrast to the pale sky and landscape surrounding it. Even the bank on the other side is white, white, white, and Y/N’s gasp cuts through the quiet as she takes in the view. “Wow.”

Something in her peripheral vision moves, and Y/N turns to see what it was. Sitting on the bench facing the lake several feet away is Draco Malfoy. He’s the mirror image of the landscape she sees before him, all pale hair and face emerging from a black coat. And he looks positively scared to see Y/N.

It’s a look she knows all too well.

“Y/N,” Draco says, half greeting and half in surprise.

“Draco.” Y/N stares back, almost equally bewildered. “I… I was just thinking about you, actually.”

“That’s funny… so was I,” he says. “Would you like to come sit?”

Y/N makes her way over to the bench, and Draco pulls his wand out from his coat and melts the remaining snow on the bench. Y/N tucks her coat beneath her and sits down, unable to look away from Draco. Despite the fact that he still looks unsure, he’s not looking away either.

It’s been almost five years since Y/N has seen Draco. She can’t help but drink in the sight of him, just as handsome and heartbroken as the day he’d left. Already she’s shifting on the bench to face him.

“You look well,” Draco finally says.

“Funny, you don’t.”

Draco laughs. Really hard. “You can always tell, can’t you?”

Y/N just shrugs. “I am a talented witch, what can I say.”

Draco reaches out and fingers the edge of Y/N’s scarf, and her heart drops in her chest. She’d forgotten his initials were on display. “You kept this?”

Y/N is quite focused on Draco’s ungloved hand in close proximity to her body, but she does say, “I honestly had forgotten about it until today.”

Draco lets go of the scarf. “I remember when I gave that to you.”

“So do I.”

Draco doesn’t put his hand back into his pocket, and instead lets it rest on the bench in between them. 

“I miss you,” Y/N blurts out.

“Me, too,” Draco says immediately. 

Y/N scoots a fraction closer, and Draco’s hand moves from the bench to the top of Y/N’s knee.

Y/N curls closer into Draco’s lap, and dips her finger below the collar of Draco’s dress shirt to trail her nail up his neck and along his hairline. Draco runs his finger slowly back and forth across Y/N’s bare kneecap.

“Ugh,” Pansy pretends to act disgusted as she glares at her best friends from the opposite couch. “I can’t believe I used to want that.”

Daphne runs her fingers through Pansy’s hair affectionately, and Y/N can feel Draco’s laugh in his chest. “Yeah, and I can’t believe how much you acted like a bitch over it.”

Pansy rolls her eyes and just settles against Daphne. “That was like a month, Draco. Besides, nothing could ever separate me and Y/N.”

That night Y/N lays awake in the guest bedroom as Astoria sleeps in the twin bed opposite her. Pansy has ditched her this year to share with Daphne, which was expected, but didn’t make sleeping in the same room with Astoria any less weird to her. But it was fine, really. 

She checked the clock beside her bed. Almost one in the morning. 

Y/N threw back the covers, not bothering to hide her tracks. Astoria was a smart girl, and all the parents never bothered to check the rooms anymore. When Y/N reached Draco’s room around the corner, she just knocked once. The door flew open, revealing a tired, yet no less excited Draco. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Draco grabbed her by the wrist and swept her inside. 

Y/N moved her hand to rest on top of Draco’s. “I miss everyone. But especially you.” She runs her thumb across Draco’s knuckles. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Absolutely free,” Draco says breathlessly.

“Good,” Y/N says, “because I still have half a bottle of wine to finish.”

[commonalex]

Broken Nose

-Oh my, a talking fox!

-Oh my, a talking fattie!

-Wait, what?

   I don’t know what else I could expect coming down here from the tower today. I had this bad feeling stepping into the woods for the first time. It was really on the nose.

-He he, “on the nose”. Never gets old!

-Huh?

   The fox keeps on giggling but maybe not on purpose. Judging by the dirty yellowish fur and the burnt patches on its weak body, you could say this creature has seen better days.

-Uhhh girl? Still here. I can hear, you know.

   Wherever this fox was (before it comes to horrify me) the fire must’ve get it just in time, but it doesn’t look like hurting. On the contrary, the fox is playfully stretching like a cat on the dirt. I guess I seem so damn funny (or pathetic) for it to dare to come so near. Not that I would mind some chit chat at the time, I haven’t spoke to a person (or whatever that is) for far too long. But the way it follows me around with this sarcastic laugh rubs me the wrong way.

-Come on now, foxxy, I’m seriously busy right now. I can’t afford spending time with you. Stay away and no one gets hurt, nosey.

“Nosey”? Ha ha! It’s like you already know!

-Whatever.

   I throw middle fingers and keep on my route putting in and out the batteries of my walkie talkie. No luck. Dad (or whoever was talking at the frequency I was catching from the tower) didn’t speak a word again and of course no one’s around here as far as I can see. So I already had my misery, but I guess I should come down here to play hide and seek besides still life. Thank god it’s still afternoon with the sun beaming through the trees so I am not scared shitless yet.

But still, the fire keeps on burning whatever is on its way and no one bothers if I’m burned alive or not one of those days. So here comes the panic again. I’m climbing a tree to see the valley burning a bit better, while screaming furiously on the walkie talkie in case signal comes up. I scream my lungs out, touch my throat, lose balance, slip of the trunk and fall face first. When I managed to get up blood was pouring off my nose like a fountain. I guess I knew better when I was staying in the watch tower picking my…

-...”nose”, huh? He he he. You are funny, but you really don’t listen.

   I turn around to stare at the fox in a way so it gets the message and run away from me but here it is with its eyes shining like it’s waiting for something. I walk slowly to a direction, here it is following me, here it is talking shit about me, here it is turning to go somewhere else, here I am trying to catch her from going towards the fire, and we’re back at the start. Fuck it, I say. I let her leave to stop worrying. And that’s how I get lost in here. You see, all this time I had the smoke as compass and with all this chasing I failed to notice that the fumes scattered all over the place. I raise my head to see the sun radiating this weird red-like colors. Why on earth am I still here?

-Does anybody listen on this channel? I know some of you do. Dad, can you hear me? I’m the fire lookout and try to find you all this time. If you hear me, tell me your location so I can get to you. Copy?

   I’d be damned if this walkie talkie thingy is even necessary at this point. They have probably gone deaf by my stupid screaming.

-Just hoping you understand how futile this is. It’s like the thousandth time I tell you that at this exact point, but I have my hopes that one day you will stop doing this. Mainly to yourself. Just like I have my hopes that you will stop wearing shorts that make your thighs look unevenly thick.

-Can you please help me with your mouth shut? All it takes is a second to become human torches. I don’t need your kind of silly attitude.

-Pardon me? What attitude. I said what I said for your own good. But I don’t judge you. Spending all this time trapped in here, no wonder why your brain got a bit rusty.

-Trapped?

   The fox’s looking at me head to toes, sighs and sits in front of me waiting for something once again. What, exactly? No idea, but I wish it would be something that would take my guilt away and leave this thing get baked. It would smell like cooked fox all over to the watch tower.

-Highly doubt you could smell anything with a nose that fucked up.

-Shut-your-god-damn-mouth.

   I get caught off guard by the walkie talkie screeching with an incomprehensible voice. I don’t get much, just small phrases like “wish you could hear me” or “one sign of life” and such. All enough to hear my dad on this. I press to reply with my hands shaking by the stress. I keep on losing him, without ever getting my voice across. Signal worsens, but if I can hear him that must mean he is somewhere around here, right? But what if he is somewhere near the fire? I’m mic screaming “DAD JUST TELL ME IF YOU’RE HERE” like a ten year old and that’s where I lose all contact.

   Trying to catch a breath on a treat I get blood in my mouth (which has got everywhere and made me look sick) and burst into tears. I feel finished. I watch the ash raining down on my from the coal black slope on my right and I’m feeling shaky once again. I don’t even know if I’m crying being here all alone or because by the next few meters I could see my dad… You know how. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I see something like that.

-Come on, girl, please, don’t say that. I’ve listened to you say that like a hundred times and every time my heart is screaming for mercy. Come, get up.

Barely even remembered the fox is there all along.

-What do you want from me?

-Dunno. Company? A little adventure? This boredom you feel all this time on that watch tower all alone, I get that too. But you only make us the favor to come down here and spend time when you catch your dad on the radio. Only then I really have something to do.

-So you have seen me up there?

-If I seen you? What else could a fox occupy it’s mind inside those fucked up woods than stalk a fire lookout in her fourties? You know, playing with the binoculars, searching up radio frequencies, drinking beer and listening to the same music all day from her cd player? Is there anything better around here?

-What forties? I’m seventeen.

-Well I’m telling you, you absolutely are in your thirties at least.

-Why do I even bother.

   But chatting with the fox really makes you forget, whatever bs you have to endure. And you have to endure a lot. And a lot of stuff the fox says are disses that don’t make much sense. However company is very much needed at this point, inside a dirt pool filling up with ash and red smoke.

-I’m not here to make your life difficult.

-I don’t even know why you’re here. And how come you talk? If that’s not too much.

-Why are you stuck on these questions by now? You do this every time. Even though that’s the first time I see fire getting that big around here. And to be fair you got lost in the woods too early this time. And to be honest I’m kinda like a baby boy right now, asking for his mama, cause I have no clue what the hell is going on.

-”Baby boy”? Are you male?

   He looks at me with the most dead and disappointed stare a fox could ever have. I don’t know why I assumed he was a girl. But since he can hear me in my head, I apologize for perpetuating those kind of stereotypes. My bad. Ok? The fox nods as agreeing. we are ok.

   During all that I forgot I had the walkie talkie on my back pocket so when it started “whistling” again I got shivers. Trying to hold it with my shaky fingers I drop it like the useless scum I am. Even the fox gave me a disappointed look.

   The signal was better this time. I could hear for about five minutes non stop before I tried (with no luck) to respond. This is for sure not my dad. Those weird fast paced accents that invade the back of my ears are definitely from my mother. She even said her catchphrase “look at your own lil princess”.

“...should we keep on putting up a show anymore, darling?”.

“I’m tired. You wanna hear me say it? I say it right now.“.

“...I don’t understand? So am I the bad one and the heartless bitch once again?”.

“...please accept the bitter reality. We really missed the boat...”.

And then silence again.

   Same attitude, same lines played out a thousand times in the kitchen or in front of people. The same arguing over and over again with dad. The reason was always dumb, but her voice here doesn’t seem so irritating. Something serious must have happened for my dead mommy to cry like a pig.

-No crying? So you’re over it?

-Don’t know.

-I get it, we’re still at the point where you adapt to all this. We have a little bit of walking left till you have to get back.

-Tell me, what’s this thing you seem to know but I don’t?

-We know the same. I’m just here as a reminder, like an alarm clock of some sort. You know, like that fox alarm clock you had besides your bed when you were younger? Do you remember? You even brought it to the watch tower. Weird to have an alarm clock if you’re waking up at noon, though. You a freaking fire lookout, woman.

   It was a while until my brain got to work again. The fox was right, he is just like that alarm clock I have since a kid. How did I not see it before? And what does that mean now? Well, we know we won’t get any further just by asking. I don’t know if what I feel about that creature is trust, intimacy or curiosity. And those enigmatic stuff he throws here and there get tiresome. We walk and chit chat without noticing the orange fog swallowing everything within a meter around us. All we see in front of us now are burnt tree trunks and melting animals. All of them teddy bears I had while being a baby potato. If my heartbeat wasn’t hitting those three digits I would get goosebumps right now.

   I’m covering mouth and nose with my hand and try to guess where the fox is, as he’s running in circles stunned. He doesn’t seem to care if we find my parents before we all get barbecued anymore. He is too busy looking somehow concerned at all this damaged landscape.

-Tell me, how long have you seen me in secret? Spent all the summer over there and I never saw a single soul besides you right now, my secret admirer.

-Are you serious? What summer? Get it together. We wasted our young years here. But what am I even saying and basically to whom. Sometimes I wish I had your luck playing in this kind of playground. You could say disconnection from the environment has its moments.

-I’m volunteering for the summer, that’s all. It was written on the papers I signed, too. I think.

-Wait… Is that it?

-After all that I’m going back home to find out if where I’m studying by September. It’s pretty much over.

-...so this was it all along? Disconnecting? -Wait, did I take the entrance exams? My brain just froze.

-Would you shut up about your exams? Something’s wrong.

-How could I forget exams, though? After all this studying?

-Oh man. We really are in deep shit and now’s the time for you to turn your nose up at what is happening.

-Oh, here we go with these nose jokes again.

-No, no. Didn’t mean it in a literal way. That was unfortun… Ah, you get it, right?

-Maybe that’s why there’s not a single soul down here. You must’ve killed them all with your crap.

-I don’t have a good feeling about this. Our routine feels off. We have done this walk so many times and something’s not quite ok right now. It seems as if we’re stuck at the same place for hours and I guess…

-”Guess” what…?

-...we’re lost. I guess.

   Oh-you-don’t-say. When you spend so much time fucking with a broken person’s nerves, you tend miss what’s happening. We’re technically blind and we just go around for hours. Are we running away from the fire? Going straight at it? Only god know, because everything turned brown around here. We’re bumping trees and get shitless when we step on those blackened teddy bear bellies. I don’t lose my chance of cursing out the fox for driving us here, but all he cares about it digging holes while “trying to find our designated course”. That’s how we spend our next hour. Or maybe more since my watch stopped.

-How much battery is left in the walkie talkie?

-One line. And I swear I had it full, just like every time.

-”Just like every time”?

-Every time I climb down the watch tower to get here.

   The fox leaves the digging on the side and looks at me with his eyes wide open. My brain gets stuck for a moment and before he gets to respond I get vertigo. When I return to normal he keeps on asking again and again if I “know”, as if I get what he is trying to say. I’m searching for the sun above us to make everything around me stop flickering, but no luck, so I have the fox right beside me irritating me with these questions while I’m throwing up.

-Oh boy, you really don’t listen. That’s it, we’re going back. Now.

-Back where? I have my parents over here!

-You play the fool all this time. We have to go back to the starting point, don’t you get it? With you at the watch tower listening to your parents on the radio, coming down to the woods and find me while breaking your nose. Dunno how more fucked up your nose can be than right now, but we might save our asses.

-You are the most irritating talking fox I’ve ever seen.

-Wow, that’s a lot. Now give me the walkie talkie.

-Stop, YOU’RE GONNA BREAK IT!

-WOULD YOU STOP THE BULLSHIT SO WE CAN SAVE OURSELVES?

-DON’T.

   The walkie talkie slips, falls upon some cracked branches and shutters to a million pieces. Our eyes are glued to the ground, scanning for every piece in case we lose it. Time suddenly hits the brake, the orange fog from before has grown to this sick deep red light from the sun that sets down the edge of the valley as if we are in literal hell. Is this it?

-Nah. Not yet at least.

-Cut it out.

-Sure.

   I’m paralysed. My head can’t get through this twisted procedure anymore; days are marching one after another as the same exact instance being copied again and again. I tried so much to resist but my “job” here stopped helping a long time ago. Every bit on me seems hurt and rough. How long was I force to see everything slowly catch fire as I try to not get burnt alive? I could never know. All I know is how much washed out I feel here. Breaking my face, getting lost and playing chase with flames while asking for my dad through a stupid walkie talkie. Not that I ever need it to hear him. I got him right beside my ear all the time.

Even now.

“Stop acting like that, you’re an old man. It’s like you think I’m not in pain myself.”.

“But is it so easy for you?”.

“You think I’m not suffering inside? We’re in the same boat and we’re sinking.”.

“And what is she stood up right now? Looking at you and asking you what were we discussing just before?”.

“Twenty years, dear. Twenty years talking ‘bout the same damn things. Our daughter is gone, don’t you listen to the doctors? Am I wasting away on my own? Am I struggling to keep up with money by myself just to keep on hoping? Why are you doing this? Why in front of others, dear?”.

“I won’t bear this. I can’t bear this.”.

“It’s time to let her rest, us too. Or whatever is left there...”.

“Don’t cry, damn it. Don’t you see I’m holding it myself?”.

   That’s my mom. Stiff as one can be at first just to breakdown in the end. Now my dad must hug her with those big ass arms until she eventually calms down. What I’d do to see them now, even though they must got so old through all those years.

   When my mother stopped sobbing I wiped my eyes and saw the fire waiting ten steps away. Clothes, shoes, all of them slowly melt and drop to the boiling ground. I take the fox in my arms and run away in case we can get saved somehow. The fox doesn’t seem to have much time left. All I see is burnt fur and burst open skin. I barely have the courage to look at his face with this bloody tongue and two concerning little eyes.

-Can you still talk?

-As much as you can run.

   He knows what he’s talking about. My body is slowing growing heavy and lags to respond. We are really dead meat.

-So nothing in here is real, huh? It’s all in my head.

-Does it matter? The point was to get a bit away from all of this. To stretch this as much as possible, until you wake up or until you… You know…

   I’m not forcing the conversation any more. I’m grateful for his stance amidst all this chaos. He looks at me and nods to seal the mutual understanding. I smile and the saltiness from the tears and the blood goes right into my mouth. Awkward yet suitable.

   When my feet start to sink from the upward sprint up the hill, the watch tower is finally revealed about a hundred meters away.

-A little bit of patience, we’re here.

-All of this is so unnecessary. We’re gonna be consumed by the fire in the end.

-I need to talk to them. Last try. Promise.

-As if we had more.

   The rusty ladder moans while I climb it with the fox on my right soldier. The door of the tower room slams by the wind and all the glass windows are shattered with dust pilling up all the way to my knee. All the beer can thrown out, all the books and cds buried; only the desk with the main radio got away through all this. I lie down the fox on a corner of the bed and I examine the completely fucked up world outside. Everything is red and everything flickers in the flames. It’s a matter of minutes now.

   I plug the radio and fix the antenna that gets dragged by the wind outside. The fox is watching me like he wants to make sure I do everything right. I make a weird gesture with my hand to reassure him during his last moments and he smiles. Then I play with the mic switch in my hands due to awkwardness. How much time do I have left? Judging the fire coming close to the window I kinda get the idea. But it seems I don’t need this kind of boogieman anymore to live and move in here; just patience. So I’m looking the frequencies one by one, calling and waiting for a response.

-I don’t know if you can hear me, maybe you escaped. Old people don’t particularly stand those situations. I just called for the sake of it. I called to say it’s ok and I understand, dad. And please tell the other not to whine and be bitter. The only thing missing right now is one last hug with you. If only I could feel a touch on my hand, damn it. Anyway, I’m tired. Be strong. I have no idea if, but I wish we meet again someday. Somewhere by the sea if it’s easy. So much desolation and so much pine, I can’t stand it anymore.

   It’s like I had it written down with the words flowing so easily. I repeated them about twenty or thirty times out loud until my mouth went completely dry. I turn off the mic and look at the flame waving me from every direction. I wave back.

-We’ve said it well, even though no one got to hear it. The most beautiful in vain gesture ever.

How poetic. Didn’t know he had it in him.

   I leave the radio in a frequency full of white noise to scratch my ears to oblivion. I don’t wanna hear my head go off until they reply back. Afterwards I give a tight hug to the fox with all power I have left to a point I think I’m strangling him. He doesn’t flinch, he understands. We sigh together and watch in slow motion the whole process. Fire knocking on the door to come in, surrounding everything, painting them all with a different color as I leave my sweat (and something more) on this cheap mattress. Maybe they didn’t get my message, I think, and I’m kinda holding a grudge at myself. Maybe if I had another chance I wouldn’t waste so much time. Maybe I could even wake up and see them, even if that meant I would die right after. Talk about bad luck, twenty years here and the alarm clock never get me out of bed once. My nerves. I have so much anger I could a person right now. I swear if someone would close my nostrils right now I’d explode from rage.

-So much for breaking your nose, I guess.

-For the love of god SHUT UP.

[lesbianboy91-blog]

Wish I had privacy. But I don't. I'm being watched. And if they decide to arrest me tonight, consider how much money was spent on surveillance the entire time I was looking for a job, to arrest me the day before I would have started one.

I'll keep typing because this started last year before January. Hour after hour after day after week after month and application after application after bloody Flippin God damn another user name and password mother fuxker what the hell do you mean Walmart. Con is unavailable it was unavailable two weeks ago and the cook back there was here this morning when I came by earlier and you're telling me that you're not looking for another one?

But they're watching me smoke meth. And one time I got so stressed out that I recklessly made the comment "I'm (just) about about ready to shoot myself" to a bank representative who took it seriously thentook it too her manager who took it seriously but really they were just exercising their freedom to act retarded as if I hadn't explained to them by now a million times that I did not mean I wanted to hurt myself.

But, low and behold, a good while later ( I'd forgotten about the whole thing with the bank), I see cops approaching followed by the familiar call of "Hey James" that very seldom precedes anything but trouble despite the sincerest of my efforts to remain inconspicuous enough not to attract any attention from the police.

And so begins the saga of I dont want to kill my self part three: return of the assholes. And I know I shouldn't speak disrespectfully of law enforcement but doucebag is only that much less disrespectful and, in total seriousness, I paid my whole demographic's worth of respect during encounters with the police and we're far from being even in that department ever since what doucebag and asshole put me through. Because, apparently, a wellness check doesn't mean checking on a person's wellness. A wellness check appeanently does not consist of such interactions as, "Hey we heard you wanted to kill yourself. You okay? Oh you were just using hyperbole? Yeah chicks're never really cool with manner of expression. You should probably cut back on the metaphors. But okay man well, you take it easy"

Apparently that's not how those are supposed to work.

Instead, a wellness check means we search your bag and we pat you down and we're not convinced that you're not planning to shoot us and then yourself at the very first chance that we don't give you you sneaky little bastard you. We need to put you in the car while we figure out what the fuck we can arrest you for now go ahead and step out no you still aren't free to go why don't you tell us have you ever jerked off to a lesbian film?

Okay okay. I've been completely and totally honest up until the lesbian thing and that joke was at the risk of this story's integrity. The real question they asked ("Do you have anything illegal in your pockets") wasn't any less incriminating than asking me about the grossly unjustifiable amount of lesbian porn that I have watched would have been.

They knew I did it! And they set me up to fall victim to the situation without reminding me that I had the right to zip my lips. Lips could have used a little nudge in the Miranda bone saying, " you do have the right to not be a whiny little bitch you know"

Cuz folks, Ive heard the evidence and I can stand before God and country steadfast in my belief that no one on this earth wants to hear me talk.

But i didn't know that I had a choice in the matter and tried to get back to the precepts of this fiasco; that's damned weapon that nobody could find. And os I told them that it wasn't a weapon and I told them a little more pleadingly that I didn't want to hurt myself and the. I was practically begging that with the object in my pocket I could not hurt myself but they could hurt me badly by pressing me for it. And so, when my attempt to just kind of show them the tip of it hoping to establish the consequences before they happened, officer opera singer shatters all the glass in the auditorium with her outstanding performance e of "Is that your meth pipe!?!?!?!??? In G#. So unable to bear the weight of stupid on my face I threw it down and broke it in resignation to go quietly. And I told them and hey I'm not resisting and HEY IHMYGID OQ KW WOS DUXK CU J FUCJ FUXJ!!!!

They fucking broke me.

They broke my spirit a little bit but that's mostly in my vagina. I know without a doubt they broke ribcage. I tried to explain the eerie satisfaction of the drip inside my belly by comparing it to a massage but I have never had a massage and ultimately just sounded like a douchbag. In reality, unable to know the experience of having a miscarriage, I think it must feel something like that . My heart ached a little for time times its surely happened.

I didn't get to see an attorney. I wrote her every week and tried calling but no more than three times if only twice and when my day in court finally came and my attorney was "at a doctors appointment" I asked to proceed without her but was told that the prosecutor would not speak to me. I was summoned back to court a month and two days after that where, after fourty-five agonizing minutes I finally got to meet my dear and faithful attorney. I was ready to sign anything I could to get out of there that day so I could finally have some help from an attorney . I took the first offer they gave me and now that I finally have a case in my defense, I'm surely going to be arrested for failing to report. It's been a long month or two and as we all know, I'm not ready to go and pass the drug test. And what's more?

I still can't seem to find a fucking job.

I pled guilty to possessing Marijuana in another town. As a direct consequence of this, my liscense is suspended and I am not eligible to obtain an occupational, commercial, or otherwise provisional liscense and frankly I'm not sure if I can even ride in the vehicle. This despite my spotless driving record. I've never been stopped on a vehicle, only on foot.

So anyway, that's all there is. I still smoke meth, and since that's the only thing that fucking matters to these people I'm sure by the time you get through reading this I'll be in jail again

Wishing I could speak to an attorney.