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sameschmidtdiffname · 9 months ago

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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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mrsshabana · 9 months ago

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Ok, but hear me out... Gyutaro finding out that his roommate is a camgirl.

I can't stop thinking about your post of the glory hole, now it lives rent free in my brain. 10/10 five stars and a cat.

𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro finds out that his roommate, you, is a camgirl

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, modern au, sex work, masturbation, sex toys

꒦꒷‧₊ Note This is such a devious idea... I love it! 😈🩷

Gyutaro has been your roommate for about 6 months now, and he's proven to be a decent roommate. You're good friends with his sister, so he really only did it to make her happy. And because he may be a bit of a pervert and couldn't deny the fantasies that came to mind when thinking about living with a cute girl...

However, he's always just admired you silently and never spoken to you much. Keeping to himself in his room. It doesn't take long for him to develop a crush on you though, but he's never going to tell you. You're far too pretty for him, way out of his league. He'd never recover from the inevitable embarrassment of being rejected by you.

He was browsing Onlyfans when he found your page. As soon as he saw you he thought, "Oh fuck, that girl is just my type..." He clicks on your page to get a better look at you and that's when he realizes that this hot chick he just found on Onlyfans is actually his roommate.

Immediately you get a notification that Toxicboy66 has subscribed to you.

You send him a sexy photo of you winking and wearing a push-up bra along with a message thanking him for his support. It's a generic message you send to everyone who subscribes to you, but Gyutaro thinks you did it just for him.

Yeah, he immediately locks his door and pulls his pants down, biting his lip as he strokes his cock to the thought of you. His eyes never leave the photo, staring at your gorgeous face and imagining cumming on your tits.

It's not long before his cock is twitching and he's emptying his load all over his hand and abdomen.

At first, he feels guilty for masturbating to a photo of you. You've always been really sweet to him and something about jerking off to you behind your back makes him feel bad.

But when he gets the notification that you started a stream, he can't resist temptation. And that's how he got addicted to watching you play with your pussy every Wednesday and Friday.

You start the stream by welcoming everyone who joins, wearing cute lingerie with thigh-high stockings. Smiling sweetly and talking to your fans while you wait for more people to join.

Toxicboy66: Hey Doll ;) you look really beautiful today

"Aw, thank you Toxicboy66! And thanks for joining my stream today!" You say cheerfully when you see his greeting.

During that first stream, he can't stop himself from jerking his dick till it's raw. He cums 6 times during the 2 hour period that you're streaming.

After that day, he became addicted to you. Religiously watching your streams every week, always on time too. His favorite thing is when you use the vibrator and let him see how your pussy aches to have something inside of it. Clenching around nothing, practically begging him to put his cock inside. Those are the streams when he cums the hardest.

But sometimes your streams really aggravate him. Not because of you, but because of the other men that drool over you. Gyutaro wishes he could just have you for himself. That he could be your only fan.

But for now, all he can do is try to donate more than everyone else so you notice him. And you definitely do.

Every time he joins your stream you make sure to greet him. Sometimes you even ask him what he'd like to see you do today. God does he love it when you let him pick which toy you use or which position you get into.

Gyutaro even buys his very first sex toy because of you - a small pocket pussy that he can easily hide under his bed.

He'll get on his knees, positioning himself on the floor in front of his bed. And he'll put his laptop on his bed with your stream playing. Then he'll fuck his pocket pussy while watching you use a dildo. He'll even thrust into the toy at a pace matching you, pretending that it's him fucking your tight hole. Hearing your cute little moans as he pleasures his favorite girl. It’s his ultimate fantasy.

And even after he cums inside of the silicone pussy, he always keeps going. His previous release making the toy warm and wet on the inside, just how he imagines you'd feel. He fucks it relentlessly, emptying load after load in the abused pussy until it's completely filled and overflowing with his sticky semen.

You know that Toxicboy66 is hardcore simping for you, but you actually don't mind. His comments are never creepy or make you uncomfortable like some of the other fans. You've never had a fan as dedicated as him before.

But you never suspect that it's Gyutaro. He makes sure that you never find out. Even though his love for you is spiraling out of control, he knows that he'd never have a chance with you in real life. So he stays in the shadows, hiding his admiration for you in big donations and small gestures like making you breakfast or cleaning the apartment.

Toxicboy66 is your biggest fan, and you have no idea that he's actually your roommate.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ

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secondbeatsongs · 7 months ago

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If you consider the fact that The Truman Show was released in 1998, and in universe they're celebrating the 30 year anniversary. The US introduced HD broadcasts _in_ 1998, so we could assume 30 straight years of SD video. An hour of SD video takes ballpark 250-300MB in a modern mp4 with H264 and AAC.

Which means you could store the entire truman show in about 80TB

(And that's before you wrap the torrent in a .rar)

ah but you see, based on the clips of the show that they showed in the movie, they were (somehow, don't worry about it) shooting on film! which can be scanned to many higher resolutions!

and my in-universe commentary assumed that someone (god help them) decided to scan all of that film in HD for the streaming and blu-ray releases. and when I go looking for TV shows, my ideal is at least 1GB/hr to get it in a decent bitrate (to avoid pixelation in darker scenes, or where there's a lot of motion).

so a bit over 30 years of scanned HD film footage, in a decent enough bitrate, would be at least 263TB, probably 300+ depending on who's doing the encoding, and what else they include (different audio tracks, subtitle files, etc).

(oh god. can you imagine the nightmare subtitles would have been for the truman show? 30 solid years of live captioning. horrifying.)

anyway, that's what I was basing my calculations on when I made the post

#asks #awkwardcontent #love the way you think though #in the universe I'm imagining there are definitely old 80TB piratebay torrents hanging around with a few seeds still #but the HD release gets more popular - just hard to store #the truman show #for context this is in relation to the last post I made/reblogged #which was in-universe commentary about The Truman Show #unreality

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findafight · 1 year ago

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Wait hehe.

Modern au where Eddie has a decent following in social media and is known as both a guy who does ttrpg with a few friends and does cool metal covers of different song genres. He's weird, sure, and will also post two minute video monologues but it's done while camera is mildly unfocused on a worm on the wet pavement, or he'll rant about prog rock and then two minutes later go "I'm sorry my statements on Keith Emmerson were inappropriate and I guess" *pauses and looks off camera* "he totally deserves to be in the rock and roll Hall of Fame" like it's a hostage video and someone made him say it because he looks like he's having a terrible time about it.

Anyways he's an internet funny little man and one day he posts a tiktok or what have you labeled "tfw ur bf is sitting in his platonic soulmate's lap instead of yours" and it's just of Steve sitting sideways across Robin's lap on someone's couch chatting and smiling with her before turning to Eddie and giving a little finger wave.

This is of course met with internet hullabaloo because is that Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley? Famous indie music duo who are also starring in a popular new tv series? Social media weirdos? Beloved and popular and bizarre and memeable? Queer icons RobinandSteve? Was Eddie serious? He was dating thee Steve Harrington?

An hour later Robin tags Eddie in a post that is a video obviously taken from slightly under Steve as the angles are a bit weird, and Eddie can be heard saying "oh my god how could I have forgotten you're, like, really famous how'd I do that Steve! Babe, Stop laughing! It was supposed to be a silly relatable post! You're no better Buckley-hey why are you filming this? My mortification isn't funny!!" While the video is just shaking of Steve curling in on himself and Robin trying to focus on Eddie and you can hear them both cackling over Eddie talking. She captions it "tfw ur QPP's bf forgets you two are famous and that most ppl don't know they're dating. Or didn't, at least"

#eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie #stranger things #eddie and his little cringefail posts #when asked how they met they say they went to hs together and then reconnected #finda's rambles #finda writes stuff #famous steve harrington #why yes i did just have the second half of an edible tha ks for asking #drug mention #i dont thi k a lot of ppl on here wld know who keith emmerson is but hes one of the greatest keyboardists of all time #and elp is not in the rrhof and im. astounded. bamboozled. (its because...'mainstream' rock hates/d prog)#took until the 2010s for prog bands to get into the rock and roll hall of fame #so i am pushing my prog rock fan steve on you all now #i mean that the relationship between prog and other subgenres is weird compared to everything else and it wasnt seen as true to rock

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missfrustration · 26 days ago

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on a no name basis (toji fushiguro x fem!reader) 18+

rating: explicit 18+, minors please do not interact!

A/N: posted in 2022 on my ao3 account! reposting on tumblr. enjoy this! (p.s. a yukata is a summer kimono for future reference)

tags: pwp, smut, vaginal sex, one night stand, outdoor sex, creampie, spit as lube, spit kink, size difference, begging, dom toji fushiguro, dom/sub, some praising, dubious consent, choking, no use of y/n

word count: 2.6k

During your time at the city’s summer festival, you have been captivated by this man who crossed your path over an hour ago. At first, you noticed him passing you by on the bustling main road of the festival. You were celebrating the night with your friends, dressed in decorative yukatas, and noted how interesting he was. Not only was he not in any festival attire, but his aura and energy were almost intimidating. In addition to that, he towered over most people with ease, and his unusually muscular build told a story he was not one to mess with. It was captivating. Honestly, it was hard to look away from him until the very last moment before the crowd swallowed up his appearance.

It wasn’t until you saw him the second time about thirty minutes later that you decided you wanted to follow his trail. While you and your friends were busy chatting on the edge of the festival, you could spot him off to the side with seldom people around. Once again, his presence was intriguing. At first, his large build attracted you. Still, as your thoughts on him had settled, it was also his low-profile demeanor and natural confidence that you decided to approach him.

You excused yourself from your friends for the rest of the night. After some drawn-out goodbyes from friends who didn’t want to see you go, you delayed your final departure and ultimately lost sight of him. You look to the main street for any signs; no dice. You bet on walking to where he stood last and working it out.

You spot him after a few minutes of searching in more reserved crowds. He is a ways away in a vacant area, sitting alone on a ledge and watching the city view. You’re feeling rather lucky with how you could spot him from where you were, that you could barely tell it was him until you walked closer. With the festival being at a higher elevation, it gives you and him a perfect view of the city. It’s the ideal opportunity for you to approach him now! With the summer festival coming down from its peak hours, you find it hard to believe that people will walk this far out to see the view and potentially disturb your encounter with this stranger.

You were a few trees away from reaching the clearing he was situated in when you stopped yourself. Oh, god . You thought. I have nothing to ask of him. You stop in your tracks, hiding behind a tree about a hundred feet from him to recollect yourself, develop a decent set of lines to hold a conversation and prepare yourself for-.

It didn’t take long for him to call you, leaning his head back to look in your direction, “You seem very interested in me, young lady.” He calls out to the wooded area you were in.

Thus, it leads you to your current situation. When the stranger opens his mouth, you feel stuck on what to do. Responding to him with anything was complicated when a man twice your size casually called out to you. After a few moments of your stammering with no sound coming out, the man leads the conversation again.

“Have I met you before or something?” The man scratches his head, gets up from his seat, turns to you, and walks your way. He ponders to himself, searching his brain for an answer. “I don’t recall seeing you during a job. And I know you aren’t hired to take me out with that presence.” He looks you up and down with chilling curiosity, like he’s searching for any hint in your figure.

You’re thoroughly confused now. His job? You think. I couldn’t even imagine if I had seen him before or not when I can't even think of his career. “No, I don’t think so.” You feel anxiety bubbling up in your stomach, thinking this might have been a bad idea to follow him.

“So, what gives?” He asks with surprising intrigue and closes the distance between you two. In no time, the strange man’s figure towers over you. You see the outline of all his muscles before you in the moonlight. His shirt firmly sculpts his body, with sleeves cutting off perfectly at the peak of his biceps. His gray sweatpants hug the top of his hips and taper into a looser fit at the legs. A chill runs up your spine. His face looks like one of a beast with only a tinge of humanity. With his size, your tiny figure seems even more diminutive than whom you face.

“You’re not getting scared, are you?” He must have sensed your uneasiness too well. He almost looks a little amused by you.

“Of course not. Do I have a reason to be scared?” You save face, trying your best not to look intimidated.

He gives you a knowing look, leaning down until your faces are only inches apart. “That depends on why you're here, silly girl. Namely,” He says mischievously, “If you wanted to get closer, you could’ve just asked for it.”

You feel your face warm up at his perfect guess, “I suppose I didn’t want to be too forward. I’ve just,” You look away in embarrassment, “I’ve been curious about you.”

“Oh? Curiosity can be dangerous, young lady.” He places his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your head so he can look at you closer. He murmurs, “Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

You freeze under his eyes; his words keep you in a longing gaze on the man as his firm grip on you keeps you still. Even if you wanted to leave, you doubt you could physically back down from this man. His subtle forearm veins tense with the grip he has on you. A chill runs down your spine in lustful excitement, and warmth comes to your face. “I’m willing to find out.” You whisper seductively to the man. In his mind, he sees the flustered, half-lidded woman before him and realizes what she wants; now, it is what he wants.

“Well, you’ll certainly do.” He says with a subtle smirk. Before you move, his hands quickly work on your summer kimono ties, undoing them with little struggle. The chilled air hits your skin as the once-tightened fabric loosens. You shiver slightly before your entire body starts to heat up, wanting to take off more to expose yourself to the mysterious man. You quickly aid in loosening the ties with nimble fingers, which only encourages him to keep going.

Not like you’re complaining.

Once the ties had been tossed to the ground, the man used his massive hands to rest on your shoulders and grip the hem of your yukata, ripping it off of you only to reveal the light camisole and skirt you were wearing under. The heavy, silky yukata fabric instantly slips off you and down to the ground, rustling the fallen leaves under you two. The camisole straps freely fall off your shoulders, revealing more of your chest line. This affects the man more than he lets on, as he suddenly spins you around, facing away from him, before roughly guiding you to the first tree he can push you to. His palms press against the bark as he begins pecking sloppy kisses up and down your neck, earning you a longing sigh of relief. You feel his body weight needingly press into you as he reaches one arm down to palm your ass while pulling down the skirt. Now, one arm pins you against the tree as he continues running his other up and down your tiny body, with thick veins clearly popping out from his muscular forearms. He slowly retreats from your hips, bringing his calloused, rough hand below your mouth.

“Spit.” He grunts.

You pause, wondering what exactly he means by that. It isn't for a few moments before the realization pops into your head, instantly turning you on. You shiver, swiftly doing what he says. Collecting the saliva inside your mouth, you spit it into his already cupped hand. It slowly pools to the center of his palm as it leaves your mouth. Although you spit out as much as you could, it only formed what looked like a small circle in his massive hand.

He scoffs, leaning down to whisper in your ear again. “Oi. Listen, you don’t understand what’s about to happen.”

Your mind blanks at the proximity of his whispers. His hot, wet breath starts to dampen the top of your ear. You feel something poke into your backside, but you don’t realize what’s causing it until the tall figure utters more words.

“You’re dealing with this, ” that poke turns into a hard press, which you immediately recognize as his now freed erection. A huge erection. “So, unless you want that pretty pussy fucked raw…” He reaches to your mouth again with your spittle still in his hand in a chilling, demanding voice.

“Spit. More.”

His words evoke a sense of need once more, and you immediately search in all the corners of your mouth to spit out as much as you can. After conjuring enough to dry your mouth entirely, you slowly gob it into his hand in a wordless exchange. He begins to drag his hand away and lower to rub on himself when a strong string of saliva connected from the pool to your lip breaks, quickly dribbling off your chin to your chest's hot skin. It starts to run onto the top of your breast and slowly roll down.

“Didn’t get it all in my hand, huh?” He asks. “Let me get that for you.” He grins as he leans down, pressing his long, hot tongue on the wet skin to sop it up. As he trails down to your hardened nipple, this emits a delightful moan. He opens his mouth to welcome more of the skin of your breast, instantly warming up in his mouth, now protected by the chilly forest air. He continues with a few flicks of his tongue on your nipple, making you tingle in pleasure. His mouth slowly travels back to the tip of your ear as he starts to pump himself with your spit as a lubricant.

“Get ready.” He stops pumping, dropping his cock onto your back and tapping it a few times on your ass. You hum a breathy yes, pussy throbbing as his hands end up on your hips, lining your hole up to his wet cock. Gradually, your pussylips part, and you hold your breath as he presses his head in firmly.

“Mm- Ah!” A loud yelp leaves your mouth. Immediately you cry out when his head enters, feeling stretched beyond your abilities before starting. Fuck, he’s bigger than what you felt pressed against your back earlier. You start panting and whining for him in a panicked tone, and the pain begins to dull. You feel embarrassed for reacting so strongly to just the head.

His other hand runs up to your chest and firmly places his fingers between your breasts as his body presses against you. Thanks to his grip, you aren’t in control of where your center of gravity is now. He continues his ease into your cunt, slowly sinking himself into you while he keeps his hands on your shoulder and ass.

“Do you feel how fast your heartbeat is going?” His voice is breathy and wet as his lips press on your skin behind your ear. He bottoms out entirely inside you and does not pause before pumping in and out of you again.

You swallow, barely being able to because of how dry your mouth is, and nod languidly as you pant harder. You feel your heartbeat pound a fast, intense rhythm that resonates throughout your body and ears.

“I plan to pound into you as fast as your heart beats. I will go even faster the more you want this. You should think about that before we keep going.” He smirks with knowing intimidation. Although it seemed threatening, it just turned you on more. Your eyes widen as you whimper in a very unconvincing agreement, your blood on fire as you pant at his words.

You hear the muscular man grunt and shift behind you, “Fuck, I can feel how much you liked that. Hah, shit. You’re more fucked up than I thought.” He genuinely chuckles at you while you feel somewhat embarrassed.

His dick is moving slower inside of you now. You groan in disapproval.

“M-move,” You plead. You feel so much want from this man that it’s driving you crazy how still he is, especially after the words he just muttered in your ear. You want so much more right now than what he could be doing.

He snickers at you, now wholly unmoving. He lets go of his grip on your body and instead wraps a hand around the shaft of his dick while his head stays in your pussy. “No way. Now that I know how bad you want it, I won’t move until you beg for it.” He seems genuinely amused at the citation, taking the most advantage of it. “Beg how much you want this inside your pussy.”

“But, but-”

“Beg for me. Now.” He grunts at you.

Although you have just met this man tonight, you are already drawn to do whatever he wants from you. You try to move your hips against him in protest, trying to get any relief from the fraction of dick he has inside you now. His hand pushes you forward, forcing your body to lean against the bark. He’s locked you from moving, evading your plans, and keeping your hips from grinding against him. You groan in need and disapproval.

“Well, that won’t work, silly girl.” He snickers, keeping an iron grip on your back, “You��ll have to give me what I want.”

With no other option, you pause and catch your breath.

“Please,” you whimper. Your cheeks tint pink at what you plan to have come out of your mouth next.

“Please, what?” He asks. His giant right-hand wraps around the side of your waist with the same pressure as his left hand still grips around his length. He is keeping only an inch of himself in you.

“Please… fuck my pussy.” Your voice is a whisper now, but you feel his head rock back and forth inside you. You hiss in pleasure as another inch of his cock plunges into you.

“What do you want right now?” He growls, waiting for a response from you.

“I… I want your cock. Please, please. Hahhhh…” He gives more leeway, slowly plunging his head in and out of you at a sluggishly agonizing pace.

“How bad?” The man simpers. He increases the pace to a snail’s now. Even then, the feeling is so divine. You scratch against the tree before you, tightening your core and clamping around his dick.

“So bad. So fucking bad. Oh, my go-mmmnnn~.” Your knees shake violently in anticipation of more as they threaten to buckle under you. The man senses this, lifts you, and wastes no time readjusting the both of you to keep you positioned for him.

“So compliant. What a slut. Keep begging for me, and you’ll get what you want.” He lets more of his length slowly enter in and out of you. You desperately want more of him, realizing the more you beg, the more he will give you. Now, as you are eager to feel more of him.

You feel the pleasure build up, slowly losing composure and ability to stay quiet. “Please fuck me. Please… fuck my pussy.” You let go of any embarrassment you once felt as pure desperation and lust coats your voice.

You cry out again. “God, I need you so bad. I need you right n-AH! Fuck!” You scream in pleasure as the man releases his hand from his length and sinks his entire cock inside you. You didn’t realize how much more of him you needed to prepare for, but it was way more than expected. The screams in your mouth are so out of control that they feel like butter slipping through your throat. Your weight buckles completely under you as you mewl and moan. This time he lifts you, steadying yourself against the tree. Your hands claw on the bark, barely keeping your posture, yet the strength of his hands that grip your body keeps you stable enough.

The man is relentless, immediately jackhammering into your already sore cunt. Your entire body violently shakes at the pressure being put in and out of your core, but his firm grip keeps your hips still. You twitch and convulse at each movement, gripping anything before you for any desperate release to your pleasure. You can only claw at the tree bark you are pressed against and can’t help but take every single inch of cock that he plunges into you.

“I can’t, hahh- fuck!- I can’t keep quiet.” You moan out. You feel embarrassed, but the embarrassment of being caught by stranglers from the festival worried you the most. Although you two are basically in the trees, the thought is current.

“Just breathe. Nobody else needs to hear your sexy voice but me.” He leans in huffed whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck to nip your ear. You try as hard as possible to stay quiet, only panting heavily with soft cries of pleasure.

“Hahh, thaat’s it.” He groans in satisfaction. “You are so good for me. Tch, dirty girl.” He growls in your ear. You can only respond in soft whimpers at this point in fear of moaning loudly if you speak. His hand vices around your body and snatches onto your neck, gripping your chin to tilt it towards him. You look at this man’s face, filled with hunger and pure lust, and can’t help but be more at his will.

“Open your mouth.” He demands. You waste no time opening your mouth, wondering what he plans to do to you next.

You hear the man clear his throat, then feel a warm glob of liquid dribble into your mouth. Your eyes widened, welcoming his warm spit down your throat as he pounded harder into your pussy. The sensation overwhelms your throat, with saliva dripping from your mouth and onto the ground. Your heart beats louder with the messy exchange of saliva that starts building up your release.

“There you go again.” The man is quick to notice this too. Almost off of a hutch, it’s like he knows how much faster the beat of your heart increases as he also increases his thrusting speed. Your slick cunt, as well as your spit, has lubricated both of you. All you can hear is the deafening sound of his balls clapping against your pussy as the pressure increases. It rings in your ears, making the build-up to your orgasm even more dizzying.

You become unintelligible, wanting to take a break from how good this stranger makes you feel to process every stream of passion you have shared to enjoy this thoroughly. In reality, you both know how badly you want to cum, and how close it is coming up.

You grab onto the tree relentlessly to brace yourself for your orgasm as your other hand claws onto his wrist with need. He can tell by the pulse of your cunt that you are close. He slips his hand under your arm and up to your neck, putting pressure on your airways as you teeter over the edge.

“You’re mine now. I want to feel you shudder from me. Fuck.” His face buries into your shoulder, and slowly his coils of pleasure unravel from how tight your pussy is starting to twist around him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Neither can you.

“Fuck!” You scream. Releasing your last hesitations, you fully let yourself loose, moaning into an earth-shattering orgasm. The man takes his dick out only to plunge it in repeatedly to help you ride out of pleasure until he can’t hold back any longer.

You feel warm creamy liquid shoot into you as you ride out your high. The tall man has kept a firm grip on you this entire time, which is just now diminishing that he has finished his peak. Over and over, he stammers his hips into you, grunting from how hard your pussy clamps around him.

“Hah, hahh... Fuck.” It isn’t until he stops his hips that he gently places your figure back on the ground. His dick escapes you as the warm liquid slowly seeps down your thighs. Your legs shake as your total weight feels too intense on your feet. You feel so much pleasure post-orgasm that you barely care about this. Instead, you rest on the tree bark and catch your breath as the man does the same.

There is a pause in the air while you both try to collect yourselves from, frankly, a good fuck. You let go of your entanglement of each other and recover until you two end up looking at each other with a relaxing air. He ends up breaking the silence in the end.

“Hey there, I’m Toji.”

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #my fanfic

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lavishl0ve · 3 months ago

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hi guys!! i’ve lowk been to a slytherin boys kick (ml, mattheo riddle lol) and decided to write a little about him. I haven’t posted in a while but i might as well share for any of the other girlies which enjoy just as much mattheo as me. Enjoy 💋🫶

(Sorry to my Johnny Slaughter stans)

OH i also take any story ideas if you wanna send me a dm 🙏

⚠️ Story Context: Fighting between you and Riddle was never unordinary, but that was until this night where it turned physical…

This Friday night played out as it always did, no studies on weekends which meant party time. A decent gathering but nothing too impressive. (As per invite from Pansy). Perhaps 200 students, flashing neon lights that gave you a headache after what was a couple too many drinks, and always losing trace of Mattheo Riddle- your boyfriend. He’d always seemed glued to a corner, puffing something into the air, whether it was outside or with Theo it never really made a difference. He would do it. Over, over, and over again, and each time he’d come back to your dorm, many hours after the party he specifically brought you to, he’d always smell like something. Cigarettes, weed, alcohol, as long as it was a substance there was a chance. Some days he’d even show up with fresh bruises or blood running from some open wound. But tonight it would be different.

Partying takes a toll on everyone every once in a while, for you it was today. You find yourself slumped on the corner sofa near Enzo and Pansy- your closest friends. Leaning your head on Enzo’s shoulder you watch Pansy down shot after shot. You roll over slightly- your back now pressed against Enzo’s side for a better view. Common chatter with Pansy subsides before she runs off to the dance floor with Blaise. You knew the drill, and therefore the rest of the night was filled with mindless, deep, drugged chatter with the also very bored Enzo Berkshire. It wouldn’t be long before the blasted music started to make your ears ring; You went back to your dorm.

The cycle continued, you lay sprawled out on your bed in your sweaty makeup and the somewhat kept hair you curled earlier this evening staring at the ceiling on those cold silk sheets that felt so nice under your warm sickly feeling skin- this moment always made you feel disgusted. You knew what was about to come. And with that sudden thought an intoxicated Mattheo barges through the door.

Physically, it was worse tonight. You could see the redness in his eye, the stumble in his walk and the stench coming off from him.

He leans over you, planting a light kiss on your cheek before taking a inhale…

“You fucking whore.” He scoffs, muttering under his breath.

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, tilting your head to find some sort of understanding from his actions.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mattheo says- voice rising, “I can smell him all over you.”

You take a whiff of your clothes, Enzo's cologne. It had rubbed onto your dress.

“Oh god Mattheo, it’s Berkshire’s!” You argue,

“Yeah right.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that Mattheo, YOU were the one that ditched me at that party. At Least he was good enough to not leave me there-“ you pause, “And what did you do? Get intoxicated enough to not even realize your best friend's cologne?!”

Tensions filled the air.

Mattheo strides around the room, pacing at your sharp words before taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Even the way he puffed the smoke showed his anger.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Sometimes it’s like you’re not even my boyfriend anymore..” you sigh.

Your sudden denying of his love for you triggered something in him, he suddenly lunged at you, gripping deep into your shoulder, “Don’t you ever say that again-“ A pooling sensation grows in your left shoulder,

You glance, his lit cigarette scorched into your soft skin. You yelp in defiance. That only resulted in him tightening his grip.

“You know I’d do fucking anything for you!” He hisses through teeth.

With that sentence he pushes you back from his grip onto the bed you had lay on.

You curl up, gripping the shoulder which he burned- finding zero comfort in the cold silk sheets. It felt like fire erupted within your skin, screaming to tear your flesh apart for a single slice of air.

After longing moments Mattheo's busy mind notices your quiet cries, in the same position he’d left you. Something was wrong- and he noticed it now sobering him up.

His shadow appeared at your side. Mattheo Riddle has always had a violent reputation… but he’d never done anything to you. Until now.

You flinch at his approach- hiding your face away from his gaze. His cold hand reaches out to your right shoulder, turning you toward him slightly as he brushes pieces of your hair aside. He glances at the glistening trails gliding down your once done face.

“Wha- wha-“ He mutters,

Mattheo Riddle couldn't form a sentence. Abnormal.

A flicker of desperation ran through his gaze trying to understand the pain point of your crying.

Mattheo narrowed your body slightly toward him more when he saw it. He ran his calloused hands delicately over the reddening burn four times- almost like he couldn’t believe it. The crumpled cigarette on the bed focuses into his view. You sense his breath hitch at his realization- his touch twitching on your skin.

You tilt your head up slightly towards him, his unfocused look on the burn along with his rapid breathing delivered a difference in his demeanor.

You reach out to his tightening palm which he cusped on his thigh, with your contact it seemed like a broken spell. Mattheo dark eyes instantly refocused onto yours searching within them for a sign of sincerity, he cupped your face within his hands,

“I’m so sorry..” his voice cracked,

You nod slightly at his apology as he places a strong hand on the back of your head bringing you into his grasp.

He muttered “I'm so sorry” over and over again like a constant record, almost like you’d never forgive him for the horror he brought upon you.

But you knew you would.

Because you always have.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo fluff #tom riddle #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #pansy parkinson #harry potter #fic writing

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averys-nightmare-zone · 2 months ago

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since landing is closing down soon, i decided to take a quick break from SUPERSTRUCTURE (although i will be back don't you worry two fans) and made some fashion moodboards for the 14 fears from the magnus archives to accompany this post there will be some notes and insight on each collage under the cut.

the buried: the buried was really underutilized in the podcast imo. some of my favorite episodes revolved around the buried like lost john's cave and we all ignore the pit. i really hope this did it justice since jonny sims did not.

the corruption: oh my god this one was so hard to make. my google search history is full of terms like "bug infested dress", "moldy clothing" and "yucky fashion" the corruption girlies really seemed to like my last post so i felt obligated to get it right. i think i did okay.

the dark: making a black on black collage look decent is really hard 😭 I was originally going to go victorian for this one but ended up doing nu goth instead since I thought victorian fit a lot better with the end.

the desolation: this is one of my favorites. there's somthing so satisfying about combining ashy greys and black with orange it just tickles my brain. other than that, i don't really have any notes

the end: as mentioned earlier, i went with victorian mourning wear for the end. i mean queen victoria herself was in mourning and only wore black for forty years. that era is so synonymous with death it only felt fair to work its customs and fashion into my end board.

the eye: eye avatars are legally required to wear academic fashion. it just comes with the job description. i don't make the rules. have fun being jonathan sims

the flesh: this one really took me down a rabbit hole. first:, i could only find those anti-vegan shirts that your unemployed uncle wears to the family barbecue and then i came across this fashion designer and spent like an hour on her shop trying to figure out how she got her clothes to look like that. after that it took me another two hours to find all of the accessories. pinterest has been both my best friend and worst enemy over the course of this project.

the hunt: i am so sorry the supernatural gas leakage returned to my home when i made this and I age regressed into being 15 again. when i was making this i pictured it more as the trevor and julia flavor of the hunt instead of say, daisy. god breast america.

the lonely: this one was pretty easy to make once i got a handle on the color scheme. the aesthetic of the lonely has always striken me as a romanticization of the melancholy. think wanderer above the sea of fog. So i gave this one all the things i would romantasize about my life at my loneliest, which is why there's a teacup and a heart locket. the book was also a part of that, but it also doubles as a recreation of a leitner by theponderingalpaca on reddit.

the slaughter: yeah yeah i know the slaughter is supposed to be about war as well as murder, but forgive me for not making a fashion collage about military uniforms. that's really boring. i had just watched woodstock '99 before i made this though and decided to go more for that angry punk/metalhead fashion that korn was wearing in that concert. them and limp biskit are the closest we'll ever get to irl grifters bone.

the spiral: i made this moodboard twice. i know its crazy that the fear meant to represent insanity is hard to pin down, but i think i did it better the second time around. the first one read too much as regular kidcore/decora for my taste.

the stranger: i had to do this one last. i could not for the life of me figure out how to make a circus/uncanny fashion board without just doing clown fashion. i'm still not entirely sure how i feel about how it turned out, but at least the masks are cool.

the vast: vast avatars rise up!! this is a mike crew fan blog and i only wanted to base the fashion around him. he's in the top three list of guys i'm autistic about with elliott stardew valley and daniel powell from archive 81.

the web: not much to say here except if you are a web avatar you have to wear a cunty dress. it is simply non negotiable

thank you to @artmadval for giving me the idea to do this with your amazing fashion archives art, along with everyone else who went through all my yapping to get here. love yall!

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madisonthetimewalker · 1 month ago

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You know what fuck it take modern AU Adamai headcanons

1. Adamai works in retail do not ask why he just does.

2. He has clip on ear rings he got his ears pierced once and he regretted it because of the pain

3. He doesn’t like to express himself very much mostly keeping to himself and not talking about his problems.

4. He likes to read and I mean he LOVES reading, if you’re lucky you can catch him on break reading a comic book.

5. He knows how to skateboard (yugo does not and he laughs at this)

6. He mostly stays in his room only coming out for food or unless he wants to be outside for a bit. Other than that he doesn’t really leave his room.

7. He’s very smart about specific dragon cultures, every so often you can catch him in the library reading about dragon myths and possibly ancient food recipes.

8. Surprising he’s very quiet, sure at a young age he was bubbling with joy but now he’s more quiet and sometimes shy.

9. He doesn’t really like big gatherings it was never his thing. If he didn’t know anybody there then he would sit in a corner and mind his own business. (This man has horrible social anxiety)

10. His taste in fashion is decent most of the time he just wears baggy jeans and a shirt, he isn’t much for looking nice.

11. I like to see him as this huge nerd, for example if you ask him about a specific event involving ancient dragonic history. He will talk for hours explaining every detail and every bit of lore (look at my nerdy boy)

12. He doesn’t have many friends at work or at all for that matter, he just works although yes people have tried to talk to him in the past he rarely interacts with them.

13. He loves listening to drama, he loves to listen in on interesting conversations it’s like a hobby at this point.

14. Adamai isn’t much of a people person (as I have said multiple times in this post) and if your lucky enough he might talk to you about specific issues and topics, although he has this bad habit of dozing off during conversations. (Just like me fr)

15. He’s a heavy daydreamer, often times you can see him standing in the middle of nowhere dozing off we don’t know how he does this or how he gets himself in these situations but god is it funny.

16. He gets embarrassed easily when told he did a good job on something, Adamai rarely if ever gets compliments so telling him he’s the best guy in the world it makes him hide his face due to how red it gets.

17. He gets scared easily but not like “omg everything scares him!” More like if you come up behind him without him hearing you he will scream like a banshee.

18. He can run and I don’t mean “oh he’s just fast” HE’S PRETTY FUCKING FAST, if this man so much as sees a big ass spider he’s fuckin GONE

19. I like to believe Adamai has a huge sweet tooth. He loves to eat sweets whenever he gets the opportunity

20. He hates night shift and I mean HATES IT if he so much as hears one creek from the ceiling his ass is already out the door.

21. He has humor trust me it’s there, he isn’t one to make jokes but when he does none laughs sadly mostly because they don’t get it and Adamai has the humor of a broken down 1950’s truck. (Don’t worry Adamai I’ll laugh at your ridiculously stupid jokes)

22. He rarely sleeps (unlike qilby who’s sleep schedule is so bad that it could rival that of Xelor himself) but when he does he’s knocked out for Atleast 2 days. Adamai honey please take care of yourself I’m begging you.

23. He listens to music a lot it’s mostly to block out the annoying noise of people talking and baby’s crying for no reason

24. He can babysit (if you pay him enough) he hates it but he does it for people who need a break.

25. He gets bored easily, sometimes you can find him in the skatepark minding his own business.

Ok that’s all for now can you tell he’s my fav? And can you tell how much I love modern AU’s?

#dont claim them as your i will hunt you down 😀#wakfu adamai #wakfu #adamai my beloved #adamaï from wakfu #adamai wakfu #adamai #look at my boy #wakfu modern au #I love him #very much #he’s so silly

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morningstarwrites · 5 months ago

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i’m caving despite my social terrors to tell you how WRECKED i am over this fic

1) i’ve had my tumblr account for exactly two days, and although i’ve wanted to have one for a while osas was the straw that broke my willpower so i could follow you for details and gorgeous fanart

2) your writing style is so MMMMM like i WANT TO EAT IT??? AND BIND IT AT THE SAME TIME???? like im not joking i am by no means anywhere near skilled in art but i genuinely want to be JUST so i can draw half decent fanart

3) i discovered osas at like 8 at night, with the intention of maintaining a normal sleep schedule, and then stayed up until four in the morning wide awake reading until i couldn’t anymore. then i woke up the next day with the intention of still having fic left to read on my 8 hour roadtrip, and then finished it the day before, so now tomorrow absolutely won’t come fast enough and this roadtrip is gonna kill me

4) YOUR FIRST FIC????? FOR REAL???? WHAT???????

5) i’d like you to know NONE of this is normal for me with fics, the last time i got this into a fic was a year ago and it got abandoned so i have SO MUCH TRUST IN YOU RIGHT NOW

6) i ADORE how you write luci and alastor like somehow they’re so sweet and cute while still being completely in character and that right there is witchcraft, sorcery, wizardry, biologically impossible, but somehow you portray it anyway??? and perfectly?????

to summarize, AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHOH MY LORD YOU ARE AMAZING <33

omg 😭😭 I'll respond to you point by point:

AWWW thank you! I super appreciate it!

I'm happy to receive any and all fanart, so no worries there, but I'm rly touched!

oh HAHA at least I'll update tmr, so you can read something! but i've totally binged a fic before so i get it

YES, I had to get my feelings out because radioapple has such an iron grip on me omfg, but i was super afraid of posting this story tbh

I am absolutely determined to finish the story! I'll upload even if it kills me

Thank you, I did the most ridiculous amount of analysis on them... god... but anyway I'm glad it paid off, haha!

Super love your message, thx so much for dropping by 🤩

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #of saints and sinners #ask #osas

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b1adie · 2 months ago

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Gifset makers like you are so unrelated oh my gods I just spent three hours making seven gifs and it was so tedious if I wasn't hyperfocusing and if it wasn't about a special interest I'd have been absolutely screwed

and yours are so good and thematic I don't know how you do it

i think you probably mean underrated or smth instead of unrelated lol but YEAH tbh like ohhh my god even just doing a simple set from a single video takes a MINIMUM of an hour. and usually with mine i collect a bunch of videos and then have to edit them all and get the timing right and cut them into sections and possibly edit the timing again then format them from mp4 into gifs and then optimize them so theyre not 276mb AND still make sure they look decent and then arrange them nicely.

but like idk.. i’m picky with gifs. i started making them in the first place cuz i’d always get frustrated that no gifs in the tags got a particular scene i liked or smth… or that smth i liked had none at ALL. so ykhii.. if u want smth done right do it urself. and now here i am. fighting thru a shitty website that works 60% of the time and is covered in ads cuz my usual video downloader broke. but i gotta make gifs of video game characters to post on tumblr. its my calling…

#THANK U BTW LOL #asks

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clumsiestgiantess · 5 months ago

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Just for y’all, a short that became a little two-part story (next part coming soon) inspired by this post by @tinyascanbe

@thetinylittlespider @entomolog-t @tinyundercover y’all seemed interested in this unforgiving angst, so here you go!

Blood trickles down my arm for.. I don’t know, maybe the fifth time? Sixth? I’ve only been like this for three days. Already the threat of bleeding to death is a common occurrence for me. It’s not like I have much blood to bleed out anyway. I’m.. I don’t know how small I am. The grass is taller than my head, and bugs can be anywhere from forearm length to larger than myself. I really just want to go home.

I was jogging through one of the nearby neighborhoods like I always did, when something felt wrong. Lightheadedness clouded my thoughts, so I’d stepped into a lawn beside myself to avoid getting hit while I recovered — perhaps I hadn’t drank enough water. However, by the time my head cleared, I was standing below the grass I’d previously been stepping on.

At first it was just confusing. How could something like that just happen? For a while I had myself convinced that it was some weird dream; I hadn’t even woken up and started my day at all. However, things got real rather quickly once my search for a clearing in the forest of weeds and blades of grass landed me at the edges of an anthill. I’d been chased out of there — hounded down and nearly bitten to death.

Their jaws.. mandibles.. whatever the hell they are.. nearly tore my limbs right off my body. I had to beat at their eyes and heads relentlessly until they were forced to let me go. I just wasn’t strong enough to get out of their grip. To think I once flicked them off me without a second thought. Now, after managing to get far enough away from them to stop and look at my injuries, I found that all it took was a few hard bites to put a limb out of commission for the day. Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten many more than that, or I would’ve lost a limb permanently.

It was like I’d been dropped on an alien world. I’m all for a good hike, and I know a decent amount about camping out in nature, but no survival guide had ever told me how to kill a beetle the size of my torso for a meal, or warned me that said beetle could then turn and try to make a meal out of me. That was about all the hunting I was up for once I was left with large gashes torn out of my back and arms.

Every day and night since then I only became more and more aware of just how awful life had become. I’d gone from believing it was a dream, to begging for it to be a dream. Though if anything it’s a nightmare.

My only hope is getting to the house that this yard is connected to. If I could just get someone who isn’t a bug to find me — someone who wouldn’t try to hurt me on sight or stare at me with an emotionless terrifying face as I pass by. I’ve barely drank anything the last three days, and I know I haven’t eaten. Sleep is basically an afterthought. Everything starts shrieking at night, and even if it were silent, something might come and drag me away the moment I doze off.

By the dawn of the third day, I start hallucinating. I- I swear I can hear my friends voices. They’re here somewhere with me, right? They came to find me, right?! I can’t.. die out here alone.

There! Oh my god there’s someone here! “HELP!” I screamed, stumbling blearily through the endless stalks of grass. They’re running from me; why are they running?! “PLEASE! COME BACK!”

I.. might’ve fell? Scrambling upright, I rushed through the grass and weeds that seemed to have grown denser with each step. I couldn’t run through them anymore and begun clawing at their stalks, desperately trying to carve a path through. How did they get through so easily?!

Sobbing angrily, I shoved and pushed and clawed- and passed out. It could’ve been an hour or a few seconds later when I came to. I was in a ditch of dirt, grime coating my arms, shoulders, and especially fingers — everything I’d used to make my way through the strangely dense plants. For a brief moment I sat in silence, then bubbly laughter began to wheeze uncontrollably from my parched throat. “I was clawing up dirt the whole time!” I gasped through almost manic laughter. “It was pointless! I- There wasn’t anyone there!”

And that’s where I’m at: bleeding out from the wounds I tore open yet again — curled up in a ditch I’ve dug for myself. It’ll most likely be my grave. My stomach growls angrily and my insides start to burn. The acid inside it jumps up my throat, and my uncontrollable giggling quickly morphs into a sob. “Please… I- I can’t do this anymore…” I whimper, clutching my stomach only for my atrophied muscles to spasm and ooze blood from my cuts.

“JUST KILL ME!!!” I shriek into the void, “IT HURTS!!!” One moment I’m laying there in my own blood and tears, the next I’m being dragged away by something. Some large and furry creature starts dragging me across the ground with one of my legs in its mouth. I let it. At least I’m going somewhere.

I.. think I fell asleep? More accurately I probably just slipped out of consciousness. But I wake up once pain begins tearing freshly against my back. I’m no longer being dragged over dirt, but rough concrete. The front step. Holy hell, I made it. Forgetting about wanting to give up, I kick the creature as hard as I can with my other leg. It squeaks, drops me, and runs off.

Slowly and agonizingly, I drag myself to the first and only step. If it were day one or maybe two, I could’ve managed getting over it, but now, starting up at the top from the ground… it’s impossible. I’d die trying to make it up. “Someone h- help..” It was supposed to be a scream, but I couldn’t even manage that. Panting in pain and sobbing in desperation, I silently beg someone — anyone — to come find me. No one does.

I wake up in complete darkness, unable to move. Terrified that I’d died, I cry out. “H—?” Well, I try crying out. I hear rumbling, like distant thunder. If it rains I think I should drown myself at this point. There’s a scraping around me. I’m inside a box or.. some kind of container. Sudden light flashes into my vision and I yelp, closing my eyes as they painfully adjust.

“Y- You woke up?” A voice echoes through the air — far too loud to be normal. I blink through the new lighting and stare up at the person towering over me. A middle-aged woman looks down from above, baffled. “You… I- I thought you were dead!” I flinch at her exclamation and turn away, only to find myself at the bottom of a small box made to fit a bracelet or necklace. The perfect size to become a makeshift coffin for something my size. “I-” I cough as my throat closes up for a few seconds. “I’m sorry?” the voice from above asks. They lean closer in time to catch the tail end of my coughing.

“Oh! Here, I’ll get you something to drink. I- I’m so sorry I sealed you in a box; poor thing! I.. thought you were already dead, but I was too fascinated to bury you quite yet.” I’m not sure whether to be thankful for that or be terrified by it. What do you mean, ‘fascinated’? I didn’t have the strength to get up so I just sorta.. lay there, staring at the ceiling way too high above me.

When she comes back, the giant- ..human. Human, not giant. I’m just.. small. She tries to sit me up, but my whole body tenses in pain and I cry out in agony. I’m released as she flinches, and I fall back to the bottom of the box with another sob. “Oh honey, I’m sorry!” she apologizes hastily, “I- I didn’t mean to do that. You- You’re hurt! Here, let me help you.” She dresses my more obvious wounds, gently moving each limb as she cares for it. Picking up my hand, she gently turns it over — pressing it between her fingers as she scrutinizes it.

“You’re.. so small,” she says in awe. “You aren’t a fairy-tale creature, are you? You’re wearing.. normal clothes.. so I’d think you aren’t. Those shouldn’t even be that small…” I briefly glance down at my under armour tee.

“Are you…? Did you…?” She keeps pausing, unsure what to say. “Were you normal-sized before?” I nod weakly, and she gasps. “Oh no! How long have you been out there for?” With a shaking hand I manage to hold up three fingers. “Three hours? That must’ve been awf-” I interrupt her with a head shake. “Three.. Three days?” That time I give a nod. “No wonder you’re in such awful shape! I can’t believe it… I found you curled up at the bottom of my doorstep. I thought you were my youngest’s toy at first, but when I picked you up you.. started bleeding.” Her voice grew hushed, mind wandering.

“Do you have anyone at home to look after you?” she asks me. I begin to shake my head, then pause as the realization dawns on me. I.. can’t even go home. I won’t be able to get anything to help myself. The gigantic person leans down over me to check my understanding and I quickly shake my head so she’ll get back. “Oh.. that’s alright, honey. I’ll take care of you in the meantime. Do you need anything now?”

“Wa— Water-” I manage to choke out. I desperately wanted to talk to her — to ask her if she could bring me something more comfortable to lay on, or at the very least feed me. The woman nodded, “Of course! I forgot I even brought this. You’ll have to sit up, though. You’ll choke otherwise.” I knew that. I want to sit up. However, I can’t even move without severe pain stopping me. “Here, let me.” Fearfully, I watch her fingers slide down to the sides of my head. I cry out, trying to duck to get away from the massive digits. Her squeezing and pressing my hand was terrifying enough; I was nearly convinced she would accidentally twist it in the wrong direction. But my face.. my head?! One strong grip will be enough to cave my skull in.

“No, no, no! Shh, it’s ok! I won’t hurt you; I’m just trying to help.” “I -n— th-t!” I squeak out, nearly incomprehensibly. My muscles sting while I try in vain to cover my face. As her fingers nudge my head upwards, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force away the horrible dark thoughts. This is what I wanted — someone who can help me... So why is this just as terrifying as being outside?! I nearly scream as the pad of a gigantic finger rests at the back of my neck. I can feel the strength wavering just behind it. I can feel just how little pressure she’d have to apply to get it to snap.

My head slowly gets pressed upward, and I can’t help but sob slightly. “Aww, you’re alright little one. I’ll be very gentle,” she tells me sweetly. With tiny crumbs of food, and an oversized cap of water, she feeds me — right out of her hand. It’s.. the only way I can eat without awful pain, but it’s humiliating! After the first few bites to save my stomach from eating me alive, I debate going hungry rather than letting this happen.

After letting me eat for a while, the woman places a torn-off piece of a cotton ball beneath my head where her finger used to rest. I want to ask: ‘you couldn’t have done that earlier?’ but hold back. Mostly because my voice still sounds awful and unrecognizable, but also because I need her. I can’t yell at her to get away from me, unless I want to try surviving on my own again…

“Alright,” the woman sighs, startling me from my thoughts, “I’ve got to get to bed. Will you be fine, or do you think I should stay up to watch you?” “I’ll be f-ne,” I rasp. She nods slowly, “Ok.. I’ll come check up on you a bit later, alright? Should I leave the light on?” I shake my head. “Just call for me if you need anything; my name’s Kristine.”

Stepping away from wherever she placed me, I watch her hand reach up to somewhere beyond my view and click off a lamp to the side of me. For a long while I lay there in complete darkness with nothing but my thoughts and the dull throbbing of.. basically everything. It was only then, in the middle of the night, when I actually needed to call her, that I realized I couldn’t. My throat was too scratched up. I fall back asleep with my stomach roiling.

The next morning, I wake up to an empty room. Without a gigantic person hovering around, I feel brave enough to test my injuries. Things finally seem to work again. I can get up out of the little box I’d been placed in; I can speak properly. Wandering the dresser where I stand, I use the free time to stretch my muscles — figure out what I can and can’t do. The food and water I was given still sit beside the box, so I help myself to it. I’m practically starving again.

After filling myself to satisfaction, I notice a cord running down the back of the dresser. It’s such a tempting idea to slide down it to the floor… Surely I have enough time to explore and come back. She might not be back for hours. The logic seems sound enough to me. I head for the space between the wall and the dresser and cautiously slip between them, shimmying downward. It’s not so bad of a journey, but then I get to the opening at the bottom. The place where the dresser stops and I can’t wedge myself between the large walls to stop myself from slipping. With all the horrific events prior, my spent muscles can’t keep up with the sudden weight, and I tumble what must be the equivalent of eight feet to the floor.

Oww. That wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do directly after recovering, I’ll admit. Standing wobbly to my feet, I look around the vast space. Every piece of furniture, no matter how small, looks like a skyscraper to me. It’s simultaneously terrifying and incredible at the same time. Dust hangs in the air — reflecting sunlight like ambient lighting. The carpet flooring nearly reaches my waist like an open field of high grass.

I get about a quarter of the way across the room before the gigantic door to my right swings open. My heart thunders rapidly in my chest as I watch the giant person step into the room. I try my hardest to convince myself I’ll be alright. This isn’t an actual giant — just a person who looks like one from my tiny perspective. She won’t try to hurt me. Yet, I rethink my decision to stay instead of hide once she steps directly towards me while completely unaware of where I am.

“Wait!” I cry out fearfully as her foot approaches, “I’m down here! Don’t-!” My words cut off as I brace myself for an awful weight to crush me down from above. “Oh! Oh my gosh I nearly stepped on you, little thing! Why are you on the floor?” Little thing? “I- My name is-” A hand the size of a large truck descends and snatches me into a fist before I can finish speaking. Did she even hear me speaking?

Now I really am frightened. I writhe in the giant woman’s grip, but to my horror, she only giggles. “Oh stop it! That tickles!” Trapped on all sides by warm skin, I try kicking at the walls but it’s completely useless. Seconds later she opens her hands and I fall ungracefully back into the little box where I’d woken. I yelp in pain as I hit the bottom. “Hello?!” I cry in outrage, startling the behemoth who dropped me. “Could you be a bit gentler!? I could barely move yesterday; I’m lucky just to be able to get up and walk around!”

I’m given a pitying glance, which only makes my resentment stronger. “Aww, even if you do get hurt again, I can always fix you up! Besides, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be wandering around the place, anyway. Who knows what other ways you might get hurt. I almost stepped on you just now!” “And who’s fault is that?” I mumbled. “Here, I’ll be right back,” she tells me, slipping easily out of the room. As if she hadn’t completely skipped past the point that I wasn’t getting hurt — she was hurting me.

With Kristine gone for quite a while, I expected her to bring back fresh food for me, maybe something comfier to line the box that’s now my bed. Instead, she comes back with a large plastic container with a snap-on top that’s lined with slits and features a little magnifying glass window — a cheap creature container. A horrified chill seeps through my skin and clings tightly to my bones. “No… No! What do you think you’re doing with that?!” I scramble out of the little box and make a run for the electrical cord, but my muscles tense with pain and I stumble across the counter.

My bruises scream agonizingly as I fall against a wall of flesh. “Wait-!” I’m scooped up into a palm and deposited on the cold surface of the plastic container. My voice cracks as I realize what’s going to happen to me. “Please! I- I just want to go home! I have a life! I have a family! You can’t keep me here!” My captor smiles softly at me, then begins filling the container with various items for me: a few blankets cut out of fabric scraps, some cotton balls, a little container of food and a bottle cap of water. “Honey, I’d love to take you home, but you’d have no one there to take care of you. I’m sorry, but keeping you here is the safest thing for you. You’ll be fine; I’ll get you whatever you need!”

I blanch at how calmly my captor tried to soothe me. As she reaches to place the lid over the top of the enclosure, I make another attempt at freeing myself. “B- But.. Can’t I at least stay out there?” She shakes her head and my heart drops into my stomach. “I’ve been meaning to hide you somewhere, anyways. I don’t want my kids finding you small like this, and I don’t think you do either.” “I can hide from them! I can-!” I’m cut off as the cage lurches forward into my captor’s arms. I watch through teary-eyed vison as the container is brought into a walk-in closet and shoved onto a high shelf. Moments later, an old shirt is thrown over the top of it. “There,” I hear Kristine say satisfactorily, “That looks perfectly hidden!” Then, her footsteps begin to fade. “NO! WAIT! COME BACK! Please, you have to come back! I can’t live here like this! PLEASE!” I desperately hit the side of my cage — banging on it to call for her return. My desperate voice echoes around me now that everything’s covered. I fall to my knees and cringe awfully as pain ricochets up my arms and legs. Panting in pain and sobbing in desperation, I silently beg someone — anyone — to come find me. Still, no one does.

#horrible transition from field to cage for this tiny character…#hopefully the next part will treat them a bit better #g/t #giant/tiny

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ryeriy · 1 year ago

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haunted

warnings: mentions of gore, (fake) blood, being scared, foul language, haunted house so don't read if that bothers you

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"Boo!" I jumped as it was just Ethan behind me. "Don't do that to me! It's not funny!" I said to him. Mark came over to me and pulled me into a side hug. "Oh come on babe, it was just a little scare!" He said while he placed a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean to. It's just that it's so funny." He says while laughing. "How is she going to survive the horror night?" Luca chipped into the conversation. "I'll be there to protect her," Mark said while pulling me into a hug.

We are going to Six Flags in Michigan. It's about two hours away from Ann Harbor. It's a group thing. Mark, Ethan, Luca, and Luke are going. Luke was in town this weekend so they decided we should go to this. Mark brought me and Ethan brought his girlfriend. We had to rent a van for the trip so we could fit everyone in the same vehicle. It's early in the morning and we are going to get there right about an hour before the horror night starts. "Everyone ready?" Luca said. Everyone clicking their seat belts. "Yes." We all replied. "Let's get this show on the road then.

Luca was driving us there, Luke sitting next to him, me and Mark in the row behind them, and Ethan and his girlfriend in the back. It worked out perfectly. I enjoyed the car ride. Me and Mark were sharing headphones and listening to music together. All we kept doing was playing iMessage games on our phones. It was going to be a long car ride so we needed something to keep us occupied. When we got bored of that we were fifteen minutes away so we talked. "Ok guys we are here so that means wake up and be prepared to get out. After I find a semi-decent parking spot...or not. It's busy." Luca said while we parked in a spot close to the entrance. All six of us got out of the car, making our way up front to the entrance of the park. "How many?" The ticket booth lady asked me. "Two please," I said as I pulled out my credit card. Mark walked in front of me. "Don't worry, let me pay." He said to me. "Thank you," I said while smiling. "Are you love birds coming or not?" Luke nagged at us. They were already up at the entrance. We caught up to them and we all walked together in a group.

"So what's first?" Ethan said. We all looked around the park. "Let's do that one!" I pointed to one of the roller coasters. "You sure you want to go on that?" Ethan asked me. "Yeah, why?" I questioned him. "Well, it's just I didn't know if you'd be scared." He said jokingly. "Oh, would you stop!" I said while laughing at him. We started walking towards the ride. It was a nice day out. A bit cold outside but the sun's out so it is a little warm. Perfect.

Once we were at the ride entrance we took a few group photos. Then we put our belongings into a locker while we were on the ride. We had about an hour till the horror night started. The line wait was about thirty minutes. Once we got to the front of the line. He asked us "How many?" Luca replied. "Six." "Rows 1, 2, and 3." He said. "Come on babe, we're going front row!" Mark exclaimed. "Oh god..." I said while walking up to the front row. Luca and Luke are behind us and Ethan and Zoe sit in the third row. Behind Luca and Luke.

We sat down on the ride. The ride operator comes around and makes sure everything is secure. The next thing I know, the ride is starting. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." I kept saying as we were going up the hill of a coaster. "Relax, I'm right here." I heard Mark say while he grabbed my hand to hold it. "Ay! This was your idea y/n!" I heard Ethan yell. "Oh shush!" I yell back. That's when the drop happens. I start screaming and yelling as we go down. We kept twisting and turning for about two minutes before we came to a stop. "It wasn't so bad," I say while looking over at Mark. "See I told you," Mark says while getting off of the ride. We made our way back to the lockers. Unlocking the locker and grabbing our belongings. "Dude look!" Luca says. He's pointing to a guy dressed up as a clown with a bloody axe in his hand. "Oh shit!" I said while moving closer to Mark. "Just remember, you wanted to come," Ethan said. "Yeah, I know," I say. "So let's go get scared!" Ethan says while walking forward with Zoe and Luke. "Oh yeah, don't show weakness or it makes you an easy target," Mark says to me while holding my hand.

We walked around and we kept getting scared as a group for two hours. Luke and Luca got scared the most. Me and Mark haven't gotten scared yet but that's going to change. "Who's ready for the haunted house?" Mark said while we got in line. The park was closing soon. This was probably the last thing we were going to do. "It's only two people at a time so let's do this. Who's going first?" Luke said. "Me and the lady should. We haven't even gotten scared yet!" Mark said. "Really?" I said. "Yeah! It will be fine let's go!" He said while holding my hand as we walked in.

When we walked in there was blood everywhere. All you could hear was screaming, chainsaws, and screeching nails on a chalkboard. "I don't like this at all," I said while walking through. I walked close to Mark as we were walking through. "AHHHHAHAHA!" I jumped and screamed as I saw a clown with a fake chainsaw and fake blood dripping from it. We walked past and I started to feel my eyes watering. "I'm scared," I said. I rushed myself through the haunted house as more clowns and girls dressed in nurse gowns. Everyone was drenched in blood. I screamed and slightly cried as we got to the end. The end was the worst. Clowns and people in masks raided us screaming in our faces. I just wanted it to end. It ended and we stepped out. "That was fucking horrible!" I said while walking out. We waited at the exit for the other four. We hugged until all of them got out. "How did everyone like it?" Ethan asked. "Hated it," I said while walking with Mark on the one side of me and Luca on the other comforting me. "Can we stop for ice cream on the way home?" I asked Luca. He is the one driving us home. "Yeah, we can do that." He said while we all walked back to the van. "This was all a fun night," I said while smiling. "You enjoyed it?" Ethan questioned me. "Yeah, it was fun. I had fun." I said while smiling as I got into the van.

31 days of Halloween

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#ryeriy #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #hockey #ryeriys blog #ryeriys 31doh #31 days of halloween

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