#Swiss fucking cheese what happened?!

[yesokayiknow]

cannot believe that in 2007 the eighth doctor adventures writers just decided to put toxic yuri in their show. they did that for me

[m1d-45]

hiiiii midasss

not a continuation of eldritch horror reader, but i REALLY. REALLY LIKE VERY TALL READER. A LOT.

it would be hard to hide, but imagine how fun it would be .. i mean, what’re they gonna do about it?? carry us off to jail? no, man, no. we can step on them. squish :]

and when i say tall, i’m talking like, AT LEAST 7 feet. quite possibly 10 feet tall. big guy.

i want to be able to pick someone up and throw them like a football.

-owl anon who was hearing bird chitters while writing this

i might bring a more detailed snack of eldritch horror reader later

oh em gee bird chitters guys

also if makes sense if you think about it, since they on your screen are itty bitty so

[dragon-zena]

none of my dnd party members follow me on here i can talk about floris freely

[darkdragon768]

I just wanna have fun. The teens also just wanna have fun. Why do I have to do so much paperwork about everything... which complexity I don't even get at all...

[brucewaynehater101]

Hello, I am the person from a few days ago that mentioned House MD. .y idea for it is very simple and very funny. Tim ends up in House's hospital with House as his doctor. He was found unconscious on the side of the road with 3 stab wounds, two broken ribs, and a broken leg.

Tim is Knocked Out and in Civilian Clothes with No Wallet. Which means No ID. They call him John Doe for now and move on to stitching him up and doing an xray of his chest so they can fix up his ribs and check for internal bleeding from the stabs. They are having some kind of debate about how the kid has clearly had his ribs shattered many, many times and how they healed when House suddenly stands up and says, "all of you are missing the forest for the tree. Ignore the ribs for a second before the kid dies." He then leaves the room to the confusion of all the assistants. It takes almost ten seconds for one of them to yell, "WHERES HIS SPLEEN"

Within an hour Tim has been put in one if their Anti Germ Bubbles for the Immuno Compromised. Oh the bright side he 100% has a room all to himself! Tim wakes up in the bubble, very confused with House looming over him. Tim is Baffled and says, "who send you? What info are you after?" And House just says, "im your doctor. What's your name so we can stop calling you John Doe The Spleenless Wonder."

Tim and House verbally joust almost constantly for Tim's entire stay and honestly? Most relaxed he's been in *years*. However it takes *days* for them to pry him name out of him and it's not even *from* him. Someone saw his face on a magazine in the grocery store check out and went "that's out John Doe!!" And when Tim tells them that he is Tim Drake he simply says, "I didn't tell you for a very simple reason. If word got out it was The Tim Drake in your hospital, which is outside Gothem, could you imagine the Paparazzi? And what would happen? I can garentee you at least one person would show up trying to kill me. Why do you think I was outside gothem beat up? Assassins, obviously." House's boss is terrified this guy is gunna sue them into the ground for how House has been jabbing at him constantly.

House simply asks why his bones look like Swiss Cheese and Tim simply raises an eyebrow at him and says, "I live in Gothem."

Later on after Tim gets released, he buys the entire hospital, becomes its new boss, goes to House's boss who actually runs the hospital and says, "I do not care about running this hospital. It's all up to you, I want No Power here. I am simply here to triple your budget, no quadruple it. And you remain completely in power on one condition. I want House to be my Primary Doctor. He's fun."

Oh and if you want some Angst, House asking if Tim wants to call someone to pick him up and Tim says, "oh, I have a tracker on me. Someone will show up to check me out once they notice I'm missing." House squinting at him and says, "you've been here two weeks. So I don't believe you." But Tim is telling the truth. His tracker has said he's been at an out of city hospital for weeks and no one really noticed he was even gone.

Fuck yeah. I've seen some clips of House and, despite the large amounts of medical malpractice they should be sued for, Tim would absolutely enjoy House's banter.

Also, I'd so live for House and Tim trying to trick each other. Tim realizes quickly that House doesn't believe a word about what Tim says about how he got his injuries. House keeps trying to pull one over on Tim so that Tim actually receives medical treatment (especially because Tim keeps going back out on field with injuries). It becomes a somewhat friendly game

Fair warning, I'm probably about to butcher House's character. Idk enough about him, but here's what I think. Tim would prefer House as his main doctor for two reasons:

How House cares

House isn't Batman/Bat affiliated

For the first point, House does care but not in the way most others do. I think Tim will eventually start telling House the truth about how he gets his injuries because of how House reacts. House isn't going to be overly sympathetic, pity Tim, or try to mother hen him. Tim will stroll up, say he's been held without food for a week and has 3 broken bones, and House will just banter with Tim.

If Tim's being an idiot (like not resting), House won't try to tell him off. He won't yell or undermine Tim. He'll just point blank tell Tim he deserves whatever injury he got for being an idiot while helping the vigilante treat it.

Tim will never admit to being a cape, but he eventually trusts House enough not to hide it.

Then there's House not being a Bat doctor. Leslie may or may not inform Bruce of any injuries Tim gets that Leslie deems is important for Bruce to know about. Alfred for sure won't hide that shit. Either way, whether founded or not, Tim can't trust those doctors to give away his information "for his own good."

House probably wouldn't go out of his way to inform Bruce (especially if we add on your angst angle).

Probably fucked up House's characterization, but let me know what ya think! Feel free to send another ask or reblog or whatever with changes ya think I need to add

[the-kr8tor]

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.3k

Summary: A camping trip with your so-called friends takes a turn from harmless taunting to gore filled stabbing.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), slasher AU, Horror elements, CW bullying, CW food mentions, TW death, TW blood and gore, CW violence. Set in the 80s, CW animal death, drug mention.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Music blares in your ears through your headphones as the car passes by numerous pine trees along the road. You flick your eyes over to the rearview mirror when you felt eyes on your face. Sure enough, Flash's smiling eyes stare at you through the mirror. And when you hear muffled giggling, you already know where the delighted laughter is coming from.

As you glance at the passenger seat, Miranda's amused grin greets you. Her blond hair bounces as she tries to play innocent. Even with your music murmuring their words, you know that they're talking about you. So you slyly press pause on your walkman, with their chortling they barely heard the click of the button.

“God, purple isn't doing her any favours. I can't believe we're sharing the same car as the freak.” Andy, a jock like Flash, sneers right behind you as he sits at the far end with the luggage because of his size. “That's the color right, babe?”

His girlfriend, Quinn snorts in her seat next to you. “She’s wearing navy blue, babe. And yes that sweater looks fucking ugly, it's so 1975. I think I saw my grandma wear that once.” She twists in her seat to face her boyfriend, elbow hitting your cheek, but you pretend that it didn't happen for your sanity. She doesn't even mention it. “Are you sure you didn't hit your head during the game?”

Andy puts his arms on your headrest, and again, you get hit by elbows. You're starting to hate your club advisor for putting you in the same car as the people who never even wanted to be part of the forestry club in the first place. They joined because your club was unfortunate enough to have less members and therefore was the target of the popular clique because they were ‘too busy’ to pick a required club lest they don't graduate at the end of the year. Oh how you wish you were in the same van as Thena even though she smells like swiss cheese. But alas, you drew the short end of the stick.

“Or maybe he fell on his head when he was a baby.” Emma says nonchalantly with a book in her hands. She's kind of alright to you, only because she doesn't speak or even look at you.

Miranda giggles in the passenger seat while her boyfriend Flash laughs with her.

“I'm color blind, bitch!” Andy yells, making you wince.

“Yeah, he's color blind!” His girlfriend Quinn agrees. You feel like your head is being split open by her shrill voice. You long for swift death in this car.

“That's your comeback, bruv?” Flash eggs Andy on, you worry that his attention isn't fully on the road.

“W-what? You got a better one, fucker?”

“W-w-what?!” Flash says mockingly. A round of laughter echoes around the small wagon, and you swear you heard Andy growl at the guy. You kind of feel bad for the big guy, if he wasn't such an asshole to you.

More than annoyed, you press play on your walkman as they continue to bicker. Punk music filters through your ears and for a moment you feel alright. But this time Miranda hears the click, your former childhood friend turns to look at you with a condescending smirk.

“Welcome back to the real word, Paste.”

You hate that nickname so much, you wanted to throw the walkman at her face. But you take the high ground and just ignore her like you always do. That damned nickname. She thinks she's so clever for thinking of it when you two were just nine when she caught you scooping out a dollop of paste for a birthday card you were making. She thought that you were about to eat it, hence the nickname, Paste. The birthday card was for her, too bad the trashcan ended up receiving it.

“I told you not to call me that—”

“Bitch, look out!” Andy's gruff voice is grating in your ears, his yell trumps out your music as Andy swerves the steering wheel.

“Shit!” Miranda clutches at her seat belt as you see a deer standing right in the middle of the road.

“Fuck!” Emma, holds on to the front seat just as the car goes sideways, tires skidding on the asphalt, blackened smoke coming out of the rubber.

“Mother fucker!” You brace yourself as the chorus of the music in your ears crescendos, and a tree trunk gets dangerously close to the front of the car. “No—!”

You fall into darkness.

—

You hear an animalistic groan the second you're conscious. Eyes fluttering open, you're met with Emma's flashlight flashing on your face.

“She's awake!” She yells as she roams her eyes over your form from outside the car.

“How long was I out?” You touch your throbbing forehead. It aches but thankfully you don't find blood.

“Just a few minutes, sleeping beauty.” This is the longest time she has had a conversation with you. Her blue hair glistens in the afternoon sun as she opens the door for you. “You hurt anywhere?”

You shake your head. “I'm good…I think.”

She sighs, “good, up and at ‘em.”

You take it one tiny step at a time, once your hiking boots hit the grass, you assess the damage of the car. The hood is busted from the tree curved around the metal. The engine is smoking and the lights are smashed to pieces. There's also a huge scratch on the side of it. Mrs. Williams is gonna kill the whole lot of you when she sees her car.

“Oi, Paste!” You roll your eyes at Flash's call.

“I told you not to call me that—!” The second you turn around and set your eyes on the barely alive deer in the middle of the road, you swallow thickly at the poor animal.

“Gnarly, right?” Flash grins, but when he glances at the deer his smile fades. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Should we bury it?” Quinn says whilst hidden behind her boyfriend.

“It’s still alive.” Your eyes never leave the gasping animal. Crossing the small distance, still wobbly in your feet, you tilt your head at its large wound. Even doctor Dolittle can't fix this.

“What do you suggest we do then, Paste?” Miranda side eyes you. “We can't call for help. There's no payphone in sight!” She stomps her foot like a child. “Gah! I should've joined the homemakers club instead of forestry!”

Emma nudges you, “I think I know what Y/N here is thinking.”

“You do?” You furrow your brows.

“You speak freak now, Emma?” Quinn sneers.

You ignore her. “We should end its misery.”

“Fuckin' hell, mate!” Flash gestures wildly at the deer. “It's still alive, maybe if we wait for Mrs. Williams and the others—”

“They might have already passed this place because you and princess here kept needing bathroom breaks.” You blurt out. Miranda and Flash scoff with a shake of their bottle blond heads.

“Woah!” Emma clasps your shoulder. And you flinch away from her touch.

“Paste here has some fire in her!” Quinn joins in, queasiness gone. Queasy Quinn, you should call her that.

With a clenched jaw, you bend down to retrieve your butterfly knife from your boot. Flipping it open, you roam your eyes at the bewildered group.

“Damn.” Andy whistles lowly. His girlfriend punches his bicep.

“Who's gonna do it?” You ask, the deer continues to wheeze out. Its blood now slowly inching its way over to your feet.

“Not me!” They simultaneously say with their index finger pointing at their noses.

You're camping with a bunch of children it seems. With a sigh, you kneel down next to the deer. Looking into its deep brown eyes, it's a sea that threatens to pull you under its sympathy. Your hand settles atop its blood coated fur, matted under your touch, warm and still oozing with fading life. It huffs at you, bleating like it's pleading to be spared, or be taken out of its misery. Whatever it was, you swiftly stab it in its carotid artery right on its neck, as if you've done it a million times before.

The group's disgusted yells and groans fade in your senses as its crimson flows from the wound down to your knife and hand. It's still warm, you feel like you're death itself. The poor deer stops twisting and kicking, finally falling limp in your hands.

Your blood rushes in your ears, pulse thumping like the beat of drums. Something inside you awakens from its dormant state you've forced it inside your ribcage. It flutters right out of its crystalline cocoon, beginning to fly out, trying to escape the confines of your serrated flesh. Breath running warm, you take out your knife from its body.

“Freak,” Miranda taunts under her breath, you can feel that a part of her is afraid. Does she not realize you're the one holding the bloodied knife?

“You looked like you enjoyed that one, Paste.” Her boyfriend agrees, you send them a tensed glare. They both look away from you. You can feel the fear behind their distant eyes.

“Your sweater is wasted.” Quinn raises a brow with an amused glint in her eyes. “Good, it was ugly anyway.”

You stare at your blood soaked sleeve. “I'll go get cleaned up.”

“You better, you smell like a dead rat.” Andy scoffs, arm slung over his girlfriend's shoulders.

“Go, we'll manage here.” Emma says without looking in your direction, eyes trained on the now dead deer, disgusted by its guts flowing out of its many wounds.

You walk back towards the car where your bag is. Once you reach it, you fall on your knees behind the car to avoid any more teasing from your so-called club mates. Weirdly enough, you don't feel shaken by it, nor disgusted like the rest of them. It's a weird feeling. You haven't felt this way in a long time. But this feeling, this enlightened feeling brings you a familiar comfort, bringing you back to your summer camp days.

After collecting your thoughts, you change into a turquoise windbreaker, blood all wiped clean by a wet handkerchief. Once you hide the knife back inside your boot, you return to the rest of the group with your backpack slung over your shoulder. The tin water bottle and skillet clangs against each other, signaling your return.

“Took you long enough,” Quinn says in her high pitched voice that is glass breakingly worthy. “We came up with a plan.” You didn't even know that they're all capable of thinking. “So we thought that we could wait here for the rest of the club to rescue us—”

“Bad idea.” You cut her off. Their eyes are all on you, and you almost shrunk down from their stares. “I–I think we should hike towards the campsite. We have a better chance of meeting up with them that way. We can't wait out here in the cold, especially since we don't know if they've already passed here.”

“Makes sense.” Emma agrees, still avoiding your eyes. Was that fear?

“But that's so far though!” Miranda kicks at a pebble like a petulant child.

You clench your jaw. “Then wait here, I'll hike up to the campsite.” Fixing your hold on your pack, you start walking away. “Don't blame me when you're all freezing to death.”

“Wait for me!” Emma calls after you, running towards the car to get her own pack.

“Not you too, Emma!”

“I'd rather stay with the survivalist than the cheerleaders!”

“Damnit,” Flash curses under his breath while the rest of them look at him, waiting for a plan. “I hate to say it, but she has a point. We have no idea how to even light a fire. But Paste here can.”

You walk quicker when you hear them following you. If you could sprint away, you would've. But alas, you need to conserve every bit of energy you have to trudge through the last miles towards the designated campsite.

Emma walks side by side with you, well, a few steps apart from you. She's silent for the most part except for her lingering gaze on the side of your face. The rest are already arguing behind you after five minutes of walking. Of course they're arguing about the single granola bar that Miranda packed for herself.

You deafen them out in your ears, wishing that the birds would sing louder in the trees to tamp out their voices. You'd put on your headphones but it broke in half during the crash. The air smells fresh in the forest, with the wind brushing along your cheeks like a gentle kiss. You smile gently at the peace, mind cleared of anything but the road in front of you.

Once the asphalt road transitions to a dirt road, it's now a real hike as your group sees the sign that reads, ‘jumping spider campgrounds.’

“Spider?” Quinn shrieks behind you and the peace is broken. “Please don't tell me this camp grounds is full of spiders!”

You realize that she's talking to you. “It's just the name.”

“You sure, Paste?” Flash questions you in a teasing tone. “They named it that for a reason.”

“Augh!” Quinn scampers behind her boyfriend.

You clench your hand on the strap of your backpack. “I've been here a few times and I've only seen two spiders.”

“Two is too much!” Quinn screams. At least no wild animal would come near the group with her voice ringing out through the entire forest. Unless there are wolves running about, then you'd hide behind Andy too. You're sure the wolves would like to eat him first.

With a headache blooming on the top of your head, you finally make it to the campsite after two and a half hours of walking. It's a small clearing in the middle of the woods with a few picnic tables set up and a dilapidated looking restroom sitting in the corner. Instead of Thena waving at you enthusiastically, there's no one in the campsite. A chill runs down your spine. You suppose it's the cold.

“Fuck.” You utter as you find out that the entire place sits empty without your other club mates and advisor.

Miranda and the rest push past you, shoving you to the side to look for a soul in the campsite.

“No! What the fuck!” Andy screams as he looks under a picnic table.

Emma stands in the middle of the clearing, hands gripping her blue hair. “Maybe they're running late?”

“Two hours late even though they were definitely right in front of us?” For once, Miranda says something right.

“Or maybe we're in the wrong campsite!” Quinn comes out of the bathroom with her hands shaking.

“Or they're out hiking already!” Flash crumples down to his feet, looking disheveled.

Then, all their eyes meet yours simultaneously. Their eyes shimmer under the sun, a slight blue hue falling on each of their faces.

You blink, lips slightly agape. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” Miranda walks over to you, pointing stiffly at your chest. “Where are they, hm?”

“How should I know? I was with you all the entire time. I can't communicate with them telepathically!” You immediately defend yourself.

“What the fuck should we do now?” Emma huffs, hands braced on the picnic table. Again, they all stare at you, as if you hold all the answers.

You don't know what to do either. “We should wait for them. They could just be running late. Or maybe they took a wrong turn—”

“God! I should've just joined table tennis!” Miranda exhales out, words carrying out into the woods.

“Listen.” You try to get their attention again. Which surprisingly enough, they give to you. “We should make camp and build a fire. The cold could kill us out here—”

“The cold?!” Miranda screams again, this time in your face. “You're worried about the bloody cold? We could get eaten by bears! Or fucking spiders!”

“If you could just listen for a second—!”

“I'm gonna look for a payphone.” Flash grabs Miranda, leading her further into the campsite.

“There are no payphones out here—!”

“I need to fucking piss.” Andy interrupt you.

“Don't fucking leave me out here!” His girlfriend follows closely behind.

You huff with a groan, frustrated at the situation. One moment they're listening to you, the next they're walking out into the woods.

“I'll set up the tents.” Emma says from the side. “I don't want to freeze to death.” She takes out her folded tent inside her pack. Clearing her throat, she looks at you. “Do you want me to set up yours?”

“Would you?” You ask with trepidation, what if she fills your tent with dirt and rocks?

“Yeah, sure. My dad used to take me out camping. I hated it but at least I learned some basic survival skills.”

“Like pitching up a tent?”

She chuckles nervously. “Exactly!” Coughing, she walks over to you to take your tent. “No tricks, I don't want you to freeze too.”

With slight apprehension, you give her your tent. Bag still slung over your shoulder, as much as you trust her right now, you don't trust her to give her your entire supply for surviving out here.

“I'll find some firewood and build a fire.” You say, rubbing your arms up and down for warmth.

“‘kay, watch out for jumping spiders. Or just regular spiders.” She jokes, managing to make you smile.

“I have bug spray with me, I'm sure I'll be fine.” Walking away, you head towards the left side of the forest where it's more familiar to you. Getting lost is the last thing you'll need here, especially when you're partnered up with people who wouldn't notice that you're gone.

Your feet aches and your neck throbs, despite it, you keep your head down to collect more firewood. You gather it in your arms, mindful that it doesn't poke a hole in your windbreaker.

You see a perfect branch near a pine tree, it's straight with a few bumps on the wood. It looks like something a kid would take to play as a knight. So of course you would take it.

Arm too full of branches, you bend at the waist to grab one from the forest floor. You don't anticipate all the firewood in your arms to spill over and fall on the mossy ground. It all tumbles down like a domino while you struggle to grab them even with your pack being so heavy on your back. And you're left with a single branch in your hand, sighing and silently cursing.

Left with no choice, you kneel down to collect it all again. You hear leaves crunch behind you, yet you continue to gather all the fallen firewood.

“Need help?” A voice suddenly follows the crunching sound. You don't yell or scream from the surprise appearance of the unknown voice.

You look over your shoulder, windbreaker making a swoosh sound as you move. Your eyes lock with his hazel eyes, he stands there, all six feet and five inches of him, (approximately in your mind) under the green canopy and greener moss underneath his steel toed boots, he looks right at home in the forest. But at the same time, he seems out of place with all his leather clad self, numerous patches stitched and buttons dotted along his jacket. His piercings shine as the light passes above, showing you his chiseled features. He looks like he crawled out of a catalogue, or from a punk album.

The sight of him makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but you can't seem to find it in yourself to walk away or look away from him. It's like you're staring at a shark's fin moving underneath the waves, parting the waters in a glorious display of a deadly dance. You know what's underneath, and you know what it entails if you stayed, but you still stand there, gazing upon his mysterious eyes that hold you in place.

He gives you a familiar feeling akin to a cold breeze brushing along your flushed skin, or perhaps a gentle wave pooling around your ankles at the beach. There's warmth and familiar coldness in his eyes, one that you're sure you've seen in yourself.

“H–hi?” You ask, smile a bit wobbly from how awestruck you are. Something passes by his eyes, something akin to fascination.

“Hello,” the stranger grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, hands still tucked inside his pockets. “Are you lost? D’you need help?”

“Not really.” You chuckle nervously. He walks towards you, footsteps barely making any sound. “Are you camping here alone? Have you seen anyone else here?”

He shakes his head, crouching down to pick up all the fallen branches. “Yes, and no one, just you, love.”

You hold a single branch to your chest, “oh, you don't need to help me.”

“I want to, I can't just stand there and let you pick all these up.” He chuckles deeply, you now notice his dimples whenever he smiles. “You ‘ere with your mates? I heard you lot from where I was.”

“Kind of.” You softly smile, finding his own contagious. Something about him makes you feel at ease, more like yourself. “Do you know a payphone nearby? We need it desperately.”

He hands you the branches in your arms, calloused palms brushing along your own. “I think there's one a few miles west ‘ere.”

Your face brightens, and his gaze softens. “That's great, can you take me there? I need to call our advisor. I'm…worried about them, and Flash the moron totaled the car.”

The handsome stranger stands up, and he lends you a helping hand which you take almost immediately. His hand feels cold yet inviting. “So you're with your classmates then? How many are you stuck ‘ere?”

“Yep— kind of, they're my club mates. There's six of us including me.”

He inhales, the corner of his lip curls into a smile. “Alright, I'll help you.”

You sigh in relief. “I'm Y/N by the way.”

He tests your name sweetly on his tongue. Reaching for your hand, he shakes it gently even with you carrying the firewood. You almost fumbled with it when you grasped his hand. “Hobie. Call me Hobie, love.”

“It's nice to meet you, Hobie.” You haven't smiled this much during the whole trip.

“C’mon, I'll show you where the phone is.”

You nod enthusiastically despite the goosebumps running up your arms. “Okay.”

Hobie smiles, a smile akin to a lion's grin. “I'll take those off you, then.” He takes your armful of branches on his own, all the while having his eyes on you. “I can't live with myself if I let you carry this all alone.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel warm, a good kind of warm. “Can I at least take half of it?”

He chuckles while fixing his hold on the wood. “You can take one.” At first you thought he was joking, but with his raised brow and curl of his lips, you thought otherwise.

You fight a grin. “Just one?” With a nod from your acquaintance, you take a single branch from the pile in his arms. “You sure you can carry it all?”

In a display of strength, he flips the branches over to one arm, carrying it all with no problem. “See? You already took a load off of it.” You tamp down a giggle. He starts to walk away from you, when he notices that you're not following him, he looks over his shoulder casually. “You comin'?”

Looking behind you, your second thoughts about leaving them behind are squashed down by their ugly words uttered to you through the years. “Sorry, I'm coming.” You catch up with him, side by side, you follow him with a small smile.

Leaves crunch under your boots whilst you fling the branch in your hand bashfully, letting the wood brush over the tall grass. The silence permeates through the hike with him carrying the load, and guiding you while you just walk close by him. You've never been the one to be guided, it's always you who has to guide the others, keep a watchful eye so they don't get poison ivy, and you, who has to lug around the supplies. All the while you listen to them expressing their ungratefulness. You stare at his profile, smile tugging at your lips immediately when he gazes back at you wordlessly. It's nice to be taken care of once in a while.

For the first time in a long time, you start a conversation. A friendly one that you know won't end in you getting called a nasty word.

“So why camp alone?” You tentatively start, nails picking at the branch in your hand. “This part of the forest isn't exactly beginner friendly.”

“Who says ‘m a beginner?” He nudges you gently, making you look up from your feet. “My mates and I used to come ‘ere and just stay for an entire week forgettin’ our lives until we got the scent of city smoke out of our noses.” Chuckling, Hobie looks at you through glimmering eyes. “Now it's jus’ me and my motorbike.”

“What happened to them— i–if you're comfortable telling me.”

“A freak accident. There was a forest fire, I barely made it out. But they didn't.” He sighs, you open your mouth for an apology but he beats you to it. “It was a long time ago, no need to say your condolences.”

“Still, I'm sorry. It must've been hard.” You reach out to him, but you decide not to last minute lest you make your new friend uncomfortable.

Hobie leans against your palm before you fully move away, his smile gets brighter when you decide to cup his elbow gently. “Thank you, love. I come ‘ere to look at the shitty condo they built atop it and imagine that it's burnin.’ Ain't that fucked up of me, hm?”

You chuckle, already regretting the sound right after. “I— no, that's actually…uh.”

“Funny?” He completes your sentence while chortling at your flustered self.

You blink, fully laughing with him. “I was gonna say that but I didn't want to offend you!”

“Consider me not offended, love. You've got a sense of humour amidst the fucked up shit in the world, I fancy that in a bird.” The heat on your cheek is impossible to ignore, you have a feeling he knows about it too. “The funny thing is that it's not even done yet, it just stands there on their graves like some fucked up grave stone.” He sniffs, thumb rubbing along the corner of his eye. “My turn to ask a question, what kind of club are you and your mates are in?”

“Forestry. And they're not exactly my mates.” You spat out the last word with malice. You both pass by a towering pine tree and a start to a dirt trail.

“Alright— hold on…” he pauses mid step, with a careful hand atop your shoulder, he reaches for your cheek, “you have red on you, can I?”

You don't usually let anyone touch you, especially someone who's practically a stranger. But the familiar feeling grows with every moment you're with him. As if you've known him for a long time, a long lost childhood friend that you've finally found amidst the throng of worthless faces. So you let him with a nod, let him wipe away the deer's dried up blood caking your cheek. The pad of his thumb is calloused and rough, yet his touch is as gentle as a raindrop falling on your skin. You welcome the feeling wholeheartedly.

“There, all clean.” He doesn't ask why you have blood on you, “it was hidin’ your pretty face.”

“It was just a drop, and I highly doubt that.” You say bashfully.

“That you're pretty or that it hides your face?” His hand rests upon your shoulder, thumb ghosting above your heated cheek. “You’re stunnin’, I wasn't going to let that small thing mark you.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. There it is again, the familiar yet cold feeling washing over you. It's a beautiful contradiction. You're not perturbed by it in the slightest. “Thank you.” you could only manage to say those two words.

Hobie leans away, hand pulling reluctantly away from you. From the way his tender gaze falls on you, you think he feels it too. It's not love, not yet anyway. It's attraction. The kind that's magnetic, the kind that you know he'll fit right in with your missing pieces, the kind that he'd let himself fall into place right next to the spaces that he can and will gladly fill out. His soul glows behind his calm demeanor, as if the two last endangered beings have finally met their match. Feathers plucked from the same bird.

But it's an unspeakable match, one that could end in teeth marks left upon each other’s skin, leaving darkened blood boiling to the surface, caking each other’s maw with his and your own blood. So you two let it simmer, let it boil until one of you cracks under the pressure like trapped frogs in a boiling pot. So for now, you act as if you don't feel it in case you're wrong. Something you wouldn't want to be wrong with.

You bite the inside of your cheek while you continue to follow him. Each of your footsteps match the beating of your heart, and you swear that he can feel it too.

Walking out of the thicket and into a clearing, you two have made it out to a smaller campsite where a single eerie lamp post and payphone stands in the middle. Its paint is chipping from the elements, only leaving a few scraps of red and stickers vandalizing the payphone. There's a steep ledge behind the payphone, showing the top of the green canopies below, and the fading light from the sunset above.

“I'll wait for you ‘ere.” He says next to you, already walking towards a black and red motorbike parked at the edge of the clearing.

“This yours?” You ask with a smile, eyes roaming all over its shiny metal.

He pats the seat before leaning on it. “My treasure, I call her ‘Ripley’”

“From the Alien movie?” You walk closer to him, payphone forgotten.

“You know it?”

“Do I know it?” You say with a laugh, “‘Mother! I've turned the cooling unit back on. Mother!’” You copy the same tone from the movie.

“‘The ship will automatically destruct in T minus five minutes.’” Hobie replies in a mechanical robotic tone.

“‘You... Bitch!’” You and Hobie quote simultaneously, earning a hearty laugh from the both of you.

You've found yourself holding onto his arm, smiling and giggling with him. “Y’know, they've got a screening of it down at the local drive-in.” You tentatively say, eyes turned down at the pile of branches in his arms.

Hobie puffs out his chest, chin turned upwards with a smirk. “You askin' me out, lovie?”

You exhale, moving away with disappointment and a wobbly frown. “N–no, sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking.” Before you could fully walk away, he grabs your sleeve, tugging you gently back to him.

“C’mon now, love, don't walk away now.” He encourages you with a lopsided grin, eyes smiling genuinely as he gazes at you softly. “Ask me properly.” He bracelets his hand around your wrist, holding onto you gently while he runs his thumb over your quickening pulse.

“I—” you swallow thickly, and he ducks down to look into your shy eyes. With his sweet smile, you gather your courage. “Do you want to go watch Alien with me at the drive-in?” You inhale, his grin gets bigger with every word you utter. “We can have p–popcorn, or if you don't like popcorn, we can have chips and—and then maybe soda but if you don't like soda we can—”

He pulls you in, trapped right in the middle of his legs, not closing in around you, making you more comfortable in his tentative embrace. “I like popcorn. And I'll take you on a motorcycle ride right after, like how they do in the movies.”

Your skin is aflame. “Okay,” you nod enthusiastically, “a ride right after— I mean!” You fluster, “a bike ride— with me and and you— of course with me and you, it's stupid if—” you ramble on, tripping over your own words. He waits patiently without teasing you. Instead, he smiles, and nods along. “I— yeah, that sounds good.”

He tilts his head, hand brushing a fallen leaf off your shoulder. “Yeah? It's a date then.”

You sigh longingly. You still can't wrap your mind around at how you manage to pull it off. “Okay, I'll—” you reach inside your jacket, pulling out a small notepad and pen, moving quickly to scribble your name and number, afraid that he'll change his mind. “Here's my number.” You rip the page and then hand it to him.

He shrugs, smirking at you. “My hands are kind of full, love.” Technically it is, but he literally just brushed a leaf off of you a moment ago. “Put it in my front pocket for me?” Looking down at his jacket pocket, he smiles sheepishly.

“You and I both know that you can handle it on your own.” You tamp down a giggle, teeth biting down at your lip while you watch him make a face. “Fine, I'll only do it because you're being cute.” Gently, you place it inside his jacket pocket. Your fingers brush something metallic and sharp, but you ignore it. “There.”

“Finally flirtin’ back, huh?”

“Shut up and hand me a quarter, Hobie.” His guffaw echoes around the clearing as he reaches at his jean pocket to rustle for some spare change. “Sorry, too much?” You wince, thinking that it might've turned him off.

He shakes his head with amusement. “You're cheeky once you've gotten comfortable.” He hands you the coin.

“Well, people usually don't stay too long to find out.”

“Their loss, my win.”

You smile, palms clammy and legs turning into mush from his flirting. Staring at the coin in your hand, you find it having two heads on each side. “I don't think the payphone will take this.” It reminds you of the same lucky coin that your club advisor always carries around.

“Right, sorry, that's my lucky coin.” He grabs it back nonchalantly, then he rummages through his pocket for another one. Checking it once, he gives the quarter to you. “Use it wisely.”

“A lot of people seem to have their own lucky coin.” You twirl the regular quarter in between your fingers.

“You don't have one?” He creases his brows, you shake your head in reply. “‘ere you go then.” Taking the coin from his pocket again, he puts it in the middle of your palm. “For luck.”

“I can't take this, it's yours.” You try to give it back but he pushes your hand away.

“Nah, you can borrow it. Bring it back to me on our date, yeah?”

You chuckle softly, eyes gazing into his own, finding your bashful reflection in his hazel eyes. “Okay.” With a shy nod, you turn towards the payphone to dial your school's number.

—

Hobie waits for you in the sideline while he basks in the sunlight. His eyes are closed while his head is turned up into the heavens, arms cradling the sticks, letting the rays bathe him through the dappled shadows of the canopy above. He looks like an oil painting.

He cracks one eye opening, sensing your presence. “What’d they say?” Straightening up, he tilts his head.

“Uh…” You've forgotten what the school administrator told you for a second. “T–they said that the rest of the club had already called ahead to tell them that they've arrived at the last pit stop. But we were just there and when I asked the cashier at the gas station, she said that she didn't see a van stop by.” You rub at your tired eyes. “I don't know where they are.”

Hobie leaves the side of his bike to cross the small distance towards you. His eyes are full of concern, lips turned into a frown. “‘m sure they're fine, love.” He juggles the wood in one arm to grasp at your tensed hand, giving you enough space to turn away but you don't.

“I’m not worried about them, Hobie. I know they're okay. But…” you squeeze his hand, “I don't want to be left alone with those fuckers.”

He scrunches his nose. “What fuckers?”

“I— forget it, I'll just tough it out until the others get here.”

“Nah, I'll keep you company.” He pulls you gently by your hand, “c’mon, I'll beat ‘em off with a stick if I have to. I have a lot of ‘em.” He shakes the bundle of wood in his arms.

You chuckle, “you don't even know what they've done.”

“I know enough from how you talk ‘bout ‘em.” He shrugs, warm fingers squeezing you back. “They sound like a piece of work.”

“You have no idea.” With a reluctant step, you move towards the trail once again. Hand in hand with Hobie, the two of you head to the campsite where surely they've forgotten about you and your firewood. Or with your luck, the spiders got to them.

“What did they do to you?” He cuts the silence in half. “Do they hurt you?” His tone softens with a tinge of fury within it.

“Not usually.” You reply back, eyes turned away from him. He encourages you with a gentle tug, lips softly smiling at you. Inhaling, you let it all out with hope that it doesn't turn him off with your woes. “The guys just tease me about… everything else. But the girls— they once locked me in the janitor's closet for an entire day. The janitor found me hours after classes ended.” You can hear his sharp inhale next to you. “One time they…uh— threw glue and flour at me during picture day. I had to go home after that and I didn't get my picture taken for the yearbook. It's just blank, fitting, right?”

Hobie shakes his head, eyes swirling with something you can't describe. “No, it's not. They're wankers.”

“I— yeah, they are.” You feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. No one has listened to you like that in years. Before it was Miranda, before she decided that you're not worth being friends with. “I know what you're thinking, I should fight back. I tried, it only made everything worse. They only do it because they think I don't belong in their fancy school. That I'm only there because of my merit, not because of my parents' money or lack of it.” Looking up at Hobie, you see him staring back with a clenched jaw. “I'm sorry, that was….pathetic.” You grip the branch tighter until you can feel the splinters digging into your palm. “We don't get to choose the room we're stuck in. But we can choose the people we let in. Graduation's coming, and I get to kick them out soon.” You smile at him and he smiles back with soft empathetic eyes.

“Maybe sooner than you'd think. And It isn't pathetic, they're the pathetic ones.” You both reach the place where you met him as you question inside your mind what he meant by his first sentence. He stops walking, hand carefully pulling you to a stop. “I have a confession to make. ‘m not ‘ere to grieve.”

You furrow your brows, stopping mid step. “What?”

“I know them, the rich fuckers that torments you.”

“So you know me too?” You let go of his hand, heart cracking.

“No, not you, just ‘em.” He glances behind you where you can hear Quinn's laughter. “Just— I'll tell you after, yeah? For now, I want to tell you that everythin' I told you was real. I do want that date, love. I only ever want to see you.”

“For real?” You reach for him, palm placed on his chest. Hobie drops the sticks unceremoniously, the sound of wood clattering down on the soil.

He then holds your hand in place, fingers curling around it. “Real. I need you to know me fully. Let me in the room y'know.” With a sigh of relief, you lean closer as he mirrors your movements, lips pursing, breath fanning over your lips.

“Paste!” Miranda suddenly yells from behind you. Whirling around, your smile falters. “Shit, there you are! Who the fuck are you talking to, you freak?”

“I—” you turn back around to face Hobie but he's nowhere to be found. Your breath gets stuck in your throat. “He was right there.”

She clicks her tongue at you, “stop tripping and get back to camp! The sun's setting.”

She doesn't help you with the firewood as she leaves you alone in the middle of the forest. You look around in hopes of finding Hobie, but you don't see nor hear him anywhere. Sighing, hope dashed, and chest aching with longing, you walk slowly back to camp.

—

After three hours of setting up camp with barely any help from the others, the tents are fully pitched behind you, and you finally get to sit down and rest near the campfire you built with the same wood that Hobie was carrying. For someone whom you just met, he seems to occupy your mind ever since he left. He told you he'd stay for you, but why would he leave the moment Miranda appeared?

The fire engulfs your frozen heart, you watch as the embers crackle, eyes unblinking at the bonfire. Your hands cradle a can of peaches, you haven't taken a bite of it ever since you opened it, your mind keeps wandering back to Hobie, wondering if he was even real.

“Oi, paste!” Andy calls for you, when you don't acknowledge him, he throws a tin can at you that lands right on your thigh. “Jesus, she's out of it.”

“Did you find some mushrooms out there, pasty?” Quinn's mocking tone makes you glance at them without moving your head. You can see her flinch slightly from your glare.

“Man, if you actually did find some mushrooms, can I have a bite?” Emma asks, back leaning on a log while she nurses a flask of vodka. You can smell it from where you're sitting.

“I didn't find any.” You mutter, eyes flickering down at the fire, vision swirling at the dancing flames.

“Too bad, remember when we found some last time?” Flash chuckles, arm snaked over Miranda's shoulders, who stare at him dumbstruck.

“What the fuck, Flash?!” She slaps his bicep in a resounding smack. “I told you that we can't talk about it!”

“Relax, M, it's been two whole years! Besides, our parents made sure that it stays buried. Literally.” That piqued your interest. Subtly, you listen in. Flash guffaws, fist bumping Andy on his way to snatch the flask away from Emma. He takes a generous sip while Andy cheers him on. “Fuck, that's good.”

“Those mushrooms fucked us up real fucking bad, Flash. It wasn't some bad trip.” Miranda chastises, she turns towards Emma and the others, sneering at each of them. “Did you all not remember what happened?”

“Of course we do, Miranda.” Quinn scoffs, flinging Andy's arm away from her middle. “I can still hear the screams!”

You blink, being practically invisible has its perks. Your hands grip the can, ears straining to hear more of the hushed conversation.

“Screams?” Andy shakes his big head, “try the smell, their burning skins were stuck in my nose for weeks.”

Miranda rubs her face, “you lot have no ounce of empathy do you?”

“Please,” Emma adds, glaring at each of them before stopping by Miranda. “You were the one who insisted we stayed at the campsite instead of our usual place. Now there's a patch of burnt forest where your father's— mind you, my father's, Quinn's mother, Andy's parents and Flash's grandfather, contributed to hide the crime where the condo now stands.”

Your eyes widens, hand slithering its way inside your pocket only to find the two headed coin. So it's real, Hobie is real. So it wasn't a freak accident, and this is what He meant by knowing them.

They killed his friends.

Miranda seethes in place, hands clenched into fists. “I'm not the one who decided to light up in the middle of summer where the dry leaves were! And now we're stuck here, forced to take forestry because a judge said so!”

“Oh fuck you, Miranda.” Quinn stands up, stomping her bedazzled boot on the ground. “If it weren't for my mum then we'd all be in fucking jail! Getting stuck with the freak was the lesser demon!”

“It's ‘lesser evil,’ actually.” You finally add, eyes glancing at each of their angry faces. “And man, how many people did you all kill, hm?”

“It was an accident.” Emma blinks at you, “fuck, great, she knows.”

Andy huffs like a mad bull seeing red flapping in front of him. “You gonna keep quiet about it, paste, or do I have to make you?”

Their stares bore into you, you now realize the amount of danger that you're in. Individually, you can take one down, but with them all after you, you won't survive the morning.

So you dig deep, you free the moth from the pits of your soul, letting it loose. “Oh, I'm going to keep quiet about it. Who would believe me anyway?” You scoop out a peach from the untouched can, bringing it to your mouth, you let the fruit slide down your throat. “Besides, I know something you don't. Something important that could lead to dangerous consequences if you didn't know.”

“What is it?” Emma looks you up and down, brows knitted together in uneasiness.

You tilt your head, grinning but your eyes don't convey the same expression. “Only if you promise not to hurt me.”

They all look at eachother, silently agreeing. “Fine,” Flash starts, “what is it?”

You lean back on the tree trunk, “you forgot to say please.”

They scoff, “please.” Emma says it first, then one by one, they say it with reluctance.

Miranda is the only one who hasn't said a word, but with a steely gaze from her boyfriend, she relents. “Please.” She says through gritted teeth.

You smile. “Mrs. Williams and the others aren't coming.”

“What?!” They shout.

“Yeah, I called the school but turns out they don't know where they are either. They're technically missing.” You pause, watching their expression sour further. “I told them where we are but since we're fairly alright they're focusing on trying to find them instead. So we're stuck here— wait, no, I'm stuck here with a bunch of murderers.” That seems to break the camel's back.

“You fucking freak!” Miranda jumps over the bonfire, lunging towards you with her fist connecting with your cheek. “Say that again!”

You laugh, spitting out blood as she wraps her hands around your throat. The others watch while Emma is the only one that's trying to stop her from choking you out with her hands, desperately failing to wrench her away from you.

“A–all this time,” you wheeze out, “you keep calling me the freakazoid, the fucking weirdo when you and your fucked up little friends are the ones who have actually kill—!” With a yell, she closes her fists around your throat, cutting off your air while you claw at her hands. “Fucking b–bitch!” You manage to let out.

“Miranda, no!” Emma tries to yank her away from you.

“That's enough!” Flash finally tries to do something but Miranda elbows his nose, blood quickly pouring out a second later. “Shit!”

Quinn and Andy slowly back away until they're well into the forest, nowhere to be seen.

“Fucking die!” Miranda squeezes harder as black spots filter your vision, she bangs your head harshly against the log behind you, warm crimson trickling out immediately after impact. “You've always been a thorn on my side! Always so fucking perfect, always the better one!”

You grin despite the blood coating your mouth. “I–I won't be surprised if it w–wasn't an accident. I get it, your mom and dad never loved you enough. Is that it, Miranda?” You choke, using your remaining energy to get the last word out, nails digging into her wrists.

Suddenly, piercing screams echo above your gasps. Flash manages to yank Miranda's grasp around your throat, leaving you breathless and gasping on the cold soil. The three of them look where the sound came from with trepidation rising in their veins.

Holding onto your neck, the skin tender and raw, head swirling, you watch on with wide eyes as Quinn comes out of the thicket covered in blood. Her former pristine white coat is drenched, face splashed with the same ruby hue, trainers leaving a trail of thickened crimson. She holds onto her bleeding arm, lips wobbling as tears leave a streak of clean skin amidst the spray of blood. Her head is oozing more of the ichor as she staggers her way out of the dark.

“H–help.”

“Fucking hell.” Emma holds out her arms for her, face contorted into deep fear. “W–what happened? Where's Andy?”

“He's dead!” Quinn cries, feet shuffling slowly towards Emma. Meanwhile, Flash and Miranda watch on with horror, clutching onto one another. “He doesn't have a head anymore. How will he play rugby now?” Just as when Quinn lets out the last word, the arm she has been holding up falls on the ground, making a squelching sound as it meets the grass below. Emma backs away, hands upon her mouth, shocked and terrified. “Oh, my arm fell.” Quinn chuckles through tears only to then tumble down on the gore filled soil right next to her arm.

“What the fuck?!” Emma shrieks.

“No!” Miranda hides behind Flash, who is also trying to hide behind his girlfriend, they struggle to hide behind one another.

You stare at the tainted dirt where Quinn lays face first. She still gurgles in place, body twitching all the while her arm sits a few ways from her. Your blood rushes in your ears, mouth turning dry, chest heaving to let air in. You have no idea what's happening, but there's one thing on your mind.

Run.

With leaves crunching underfoot, out comes a tall figure dressed in black mechanic overalls. His face is obscured by a macabre theater mask that depicts sadness. In his hand is a bloodied machete, and in the other is Andy's head swinging as he moves. He flicks the weapon free of blood, spraying the tall grass below with oozing iron.

You don't wait for the screams to run ahead. With your neck still aching, head pounding, you run for your life.

The hunting begins.

—

You run into the dark nowhere, panting, vision dancing as you push yourself to your limit. If not for your injuries, you'd have a better time navigating the forest from your acquired skills. You've gained some distance between you and the others, so with an apprehensive peek behind a tree, you sit down on the cold soil, back sliding on the trunk, windbreaker scraping against its rough surface.

With a hand on your chest, you try to even out your shallow breathing. “Fuck.” You mutter, tongue brushing along your dry lips.

Reaching behind you, you feel for your wound. Wincing, you bring your hand back towards you, finding blood coating your fingers. Your survival instincts kicks in, perhaps your years as a volunteer summer camp counselor has its perks. An incident with a bear trap involving a fellow counselor was an accident, it wasn't your fault that they blindly stepped into it. Too bad it forced your camp to close permanently.

Zipping your windbreaker slowly so as to not make any noise, you slowly rip the bottom half of your shirt. Once off, you tie it around your head while biting down on the inside of your cheek to tamp down your pained groans. With a tug, you tighten it fully to help stop the blood flow.

You take a breather, that motorcycle ride with Hobie sounds great right about now— Hobie! Your eyes fly open to the thought of him, he can get you out of here on his bike. If not then you can call for help on the payphone. So you find courage deep in you, with a shaky exhale, you stand up, walking back to the same direction where you ran from. You could only hope that he's alright.

Armed with your butterfly knife, you're careful of where you step on. You avoid dry leaves and sticks, opting to walk on the softer soil instead to lessen the sound you make lest you draw a target right on your back.

After a few minutes of trudging along the dark, you make it back to the campsite. The smell of corpses filters through your nose, its smell is just beginning to rot in the moist air as maggots and crows have managed to find their meal.

“Damn it.” You cover your nose with your sleeve, creeping your way towards your pack. You pass by a very much dead Andy, whose head is left out for the worms to get into. His expression is frozen in fear, mouth agape, and eyes wide in surprise. “That colour suits you, Andy.” You scoff, remembering how he tormented you during class by almost burning your hair with his lighter. You watch as maggots eat their way into his eyeball, eyes unable to look away for a moment.

Getting inside your tent, you give one last look at Quinn laying on the ground, unmoving now and skin turning into chalk white. Red still pools around her while the quiet of the night permeates through the chill autumn air.

Pushing the tent open, you enter to grab your backpack on the ground. Finally, hope blossoms in your chest, but the sound of a twig snapping near you freezes you on the spot. You slowly grab your knife next to your leg, all the while barely making any sudden movements. Your eyes flicker on your left, a shadow forms behind the yellow tent, slowly making its way towards you.

You follow its movements, hand gripping the knife until it leaves indents on your skin.

A bead of sweat slides down your temple as the shadow makes its way to the front of your tent.

Breath stuck in your throat, you raise the knife above your head, ready to strike.

A shadow of a hand reaches towards the tent entrance, and you ready yourself.

The tent opens and already you're lunging at them with your knife raised and hand clutching at their front.

“Jesus, it's me!” Flash yells from under you, hands gripping at your windbreaker, eyes wide and blown out as blood flows from a cut on his cheek. “Lower your damn knife, paste.”

“Your girlfriend tried to kill me, why should I?”

“Because I'm not her, duh?!” He shakes his head, hands raised next to him in surrender. “Listen, let's set our differences aside for a second, okay? I don't know a damn thing about surviving out here but I do know that we've got a bigger chance of staying alive if we stay together.”

You clench your jaw, weighing your options. If push comes to shove, you can use him as your shield since he's bigger built than you.

“...fine. But you listen to me, and do what you're told or I'll leave you here.” You push yourself off him, the knife never leaving your grasp.

Flash nods, standing up and brushing himself off. “Do you have a plan? Because you sound like you have a plan.”

“I do.” You say whilst going back inside the tent to grab your backpack. Once you emerge, you find Flash standing above Andy's decapitated head. “C’mon.” Beckoning him, you open your flashlight. He still stands there, staring at his friend's head. “Flash, do you want me to leave you here?”

He sighs, eyes trained on the rotting head. “He was my best friend. I should've told him that I slept with Quinn.”

You snort, “trust me, buddy, he knows.”

“What?” He turns to you.

“Come on before he gets back.”

Flash takes one last look at Quinn's body and Andy's head before jogging to catch up to you. “So how did you know?”

“Shut up, I don't want to talk to you.” You ignore him while walking the same path you and Hobie took.

“Jeez, you're no fun.” He says while making a disgusted face at Andy's dead body that you stepped over nonchalantly.

You whirl around, flashlight aimed at his face as he scrunches up his nose. “This isn't supposed to be fun, Flash. Say one more word and I'll leave you out here, because if he hasn't gotten to Miranda and Emma yet, you'll be the next one he targets.” He nods furiously, frown evident on his face. “Good.”

After a few good minutes, you find the same purple flower you saw while walking with Hobie. “So how do you know that I'm next—?”

“Because if it was me, I'll kill the ones who can fight me off first.”

“And you know this because?” He asks you suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you.

“Just nature. And lots of horror movies.” He continues to stare at you with the same face. “I'm not the killer, you moron. I was with you when he attacked, remember?”

“Yeah, but in those killer movies there's always more than one killer.” He leans closer to you, eyes staring daggers. “You one of them, paste?”

You pause, craning your neck to stare at him back with venomous eyes. “You imbecile.” You mock before walking again. He stands there for a moment, unblinking at where you stood. He follows after your light is starting to fade from his line of sight.

“So…you're not one of them?”

“There's the phone.” You roam your eyes around the clearing all the while ignoring the man next to you. The pay phone still stands completely unharmed, and the lamp post flickers in the night, bulb whirring above the sound of owls. Your heart aches when you don't find a sign of Hobie being there or his bike. You like to imagine that he's far away from the chaos right about now, at least he'd be safe.

Crossing the distance, you pick up the phone, finding it still in good condition as you hear the dial tone. You rummage through your pockets for a quarter, but to no avail. And then you check around the payphone and the coin flap to check for any forgotten coins. You don't find a single one. “Fuck, do you have a quarter?”

“Shit.” Flash pats his jean pockets and varsity jacket pockets. Again, finding empty handed. “Wait—” he takes off his baseball hat to take out a crisp bill. “Here, it's my emergency money.”

You stare at the bill wordlessly while pointing at the coin slot. He shakes his head, gawping at you. You gesture at the slot then at his bill in hand until he gets it.

Realization flickers in his dim witted eyes. “Oh.”

“Oh.” You mock his tone. “We can't make a call without one.”

“What now?”

“I say we just follow the road and hope that a car comes by.” You point at the dark dirt road ahead of you. “Better get walking—”

An ear piercing scream startles Flash, while your head swivels down at the direction of the sound.

“Shit, that's Miranda!” Flash yells, grabbing your hand in his iron grip, and gunning down the slope to get to the source. “I'm coming, baby! I'm so sorry I slept with Quinn, Darlene, and the rest of your cheer team!” His voice rings in your ears while you're trapped in his hold, you try to pull away and get back to solid ground as he continues to drag you away to the dark abyss but he's too strong for you.

“Flash! Let me go!” You pull and tug with all your might but you're left trying to catch up with his speed while your feet drag behind. “Fuck!” A branch hits you right on your face, getting a mouthful of leaves while you almost lose your balance as you skid down the slope.

“Baby—! Oh mother of fuck!” He freezes, hand falling from your wrist, staring at the unfinished building looming overhead amidst the tall trees and overgrown grass. “Shit, it's this place.”

You glance around the space, finding abandoned heavy machinery, concrete, and trailers littered around the skeleton of a would be condo.

“Flash!” Miranda appears from behind a pillar, limping her way towards you and Flash. “He got Emma!” She embraces him while Flash's attention is glued on the grey building with its protruding metal that creaks in the wind and moss covered concrete. “I definitely tried to save her but she tripped and now she's dead with her body chopped in half!”

You glance at her, finding her tears utterly fake. “Or you tripped her.”

She leans away from flash's chest, eyes narrowed to slits and lips frowning. “You're still alive?”

“No thanks to you.” You smile bitterly at her. Before she gets a word in, you're already walking away towards the tall building, eyes scanning its skeletal structure. You notice the ground is darker from where you stand. “This is where it happened.” You turn towards the couple, “this is where they died.”

“Listen, it wasn't completely our fault.” Miranda stalks closer towards you and you quickly ready your knife in your hand. “We were just playing around, we didn't mean to.”

“You're grown ass adults, Miranda. Did none of you listen to Smokey?”

“No, we were too busy having friends, paste.” She mocks, even in danger she finds it in herself to torment you. “That is not our problem right now, we need to go—!”

A sudden bright spotlight appears in front, you squint your eyes, managing to see the masked figure behind the wheel of a motorbike. Oh. He revs his engine, taunting Flash and Miranda.

“Oh fuck, he's back!” Flash yelps, surprisingly enough, he shields Miranda behind him, arms raised to his sides. “Touch my girlfriend and you die!” You raise a brow at his sudden heroic action.

“Yeah, you tell him, baby!” Miranda coaxes him while you step away and watch the scene unfold.

The masked killer revs his engine again, this time, he rides towards you at lightning speed. Smoke billows out from behind him, blanketing the whole area with fog.

The couple screams, bracing for impact while you step back with your eyes only looking at the killer.

Instead of plowing them down with his bike, he skids on the ground sideways, stopping a few ways ahead of the three of you. Once the sound dies down to a murmur of the engine, Flash and Miranda open their eyes to find the killer tossing his machete at their feet.

“Are you surrendering?” Flash turns to you. “Is he surrendering?” You could only shrug.

The figure points at the blade, and then gets off his bike, letting it run in the background and using its light to illuminate the place. Wordlessly, he stomps over to the front of the bike, his figure obscuring the light a bit.

You can't see his eyes from behind the mask as he gestures towards the glade once again. “I think he's trying to tell you to pick it up and fight him.”

“What?” They both look at you with surprise, they simultaneously turn towards the figure, only to find him eerily nodding in approval.

Flash points at himself, and the man nods slowly. “Fuck.”

“Pick it up, babe, show him how it's done!” Miranda cheers him on, pushing him towards the machete. “End his miserable life so we can get back to our lives.” She spits out.

With a gulp, Flash bends down to grab the blade with reluctance. Miranda moves closer to your side, hand grasping your arm. You let her while Flash assumes the position in front of the figure.

“Come at me!” Flash yells, lunging for him.

With a quick side step, the figure dodges with barely any movement. Flash follows ahead with his attack, raising the weapon over his head to slice but his miserable attack is only met with air. All the while, the stranger has his hands hidden in his pockets, upper half barely making a move as he keeps dodging Flash's desperate slashes.

“Stop moving!” Flash frustratingly yells while sweat flows from his forehead.

“You're not fair!” Miranda adds, yelping when Flash gets close to cutting the figure's hand off, but of course he dodges at the last minute. “Fuck! Come on, baby!”

Flash moves to stab instead, “you fucker—!”

With quick movement that you could barely decipher, Flash suddenly has a knife in his nape. Blood ebbs from his neck as he stands in place, gurgling and choking on his own blood.

Miranda's piercing scream echoes around the clearing as birds caw in the distance. “Oh god!”

The figure takes his knife back with an ugly squelch of muscle and blood. Crimson spraying all over his mask as he holds the knife in his gloved hand. He tilts his head, the sharp end of the knife pointed directly at you, to then slowly go down from your neck to your hand that's gripping your own knife.

Miranda shakes you, “he wants to fight you, Y/N!”

“Hm, I don't think so.” You mutter under your breath while gazing at him. “Why should I?” You glance at her horrified face. “You saw what happened to Flash, I can't fight him.”

“P–please.” She says in between sobs, “do this for us.” You roll your eyes and she shakes your arm. “I never wanted to hurt you, paste.” She pleads, the nickname earning a scoff from you.

“You once slashed my tires just because I was paired with your ex for a project.” You say calmly, façade now fully broken, moth freely flying over you. “I almost crashed into a tree, Miranda.”

The figure steps closer, knife now at his side, waiting for your next move.

“T–that was just a joke! We were just—!” Her words are suddenly cut off by your knife stabbing at her jugular. She gasps as blood sprays at your smiling face, her body falling, hand stuck around your knife, you finally turn towards the masked man.

“And here I thought you'd leave me alone with them.”

He peels off his mask, revealing Hobie's awestruck expression. Blinking, chuckles slowly escape his pierced lips. “Holy shit, love. You're brilliant.”

You shrug, smile never leaving your lips. “You should've said something, I would've helped.” You say, reaching for your knife back, flicking all the blood away before tucking it inside your boot. “

“I thought…” he crosses the distance, hand reaching for your own, he loops his pinky around your own, gently tugging you into his bloodied form. “... never mind that now.” you can hear sirens echo from somewhere. “You still up for that ride?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

[goldfades]

🌱 jack hughes “you’re my home”

𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲) | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 1k

♡ ─ warnings | the devils losing a game really bad, hurt/comfort, fluffy!

It was the most terrible game that they'd had in a while. The game started off with high hopes, the fans buzzing with excitement, but it quickly became a nightmare on the ice. The Devils seemed all patchy right from the puck drop, passes went astray, and defensive coverage was basically nonexistent.

The opposing team capitalized on every mistake, relentlessly pressuring the defense and bombarding the goalie with shots. It felt like they were playing against a brick wall while our defense resembled swiss cheese, it was frustrating to watch. Penalties kept piling up, and the penalty kill unit struggled to contain the opponent's power play, giving up goal after goal.

By the final buzzer, the scoreboard was 6-1, the worst loss as of recently.

The drive home was quiet, no words were exchanged on Jack's part. You tried comforting him but it was no use, he was lost in his own thoughts, replaying the game's events over and over again in his mind. The silence in the car was heavy, filled with disappointment and frustration.

As you pulled into the driveway, Jack finally spoke, his voice heavy with frustration. "I don't know what happened out there," he said, shaking his head. "We just couldn't get anything going. It's like I forgot how to play fucking hockey."

You turned to your boyfriend, a frown on your lips. You could feel how he was feeling, he probably thought the whole game was a reflection of his playing, which was not true. "It's not your fault, Jack. We all have those days, you guys are still an amazing team."

Jack let out a bitter laugh, his frustration evident. "Amazing team? We played like a bunch of losers out there. I let the team down, I let myself down. It's fucking embarrassing."

"It's okay to feel frustrated, Jack," you said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "But remember, one bad game doesn't define you or the team. You've all worked hard to get where you are, and setbacks are just part of the game."

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I know. I feel like I could have done more, should have done more."

"Jack," you said, looking directly into his eyes, "you're a good player, and tonight doesn't define you or the team. Sometimes, things just don't click. You'll bounce back stronger, and so will the team. This is just a bump in the road."

Jack let out a bitter laugh, his frustration evident. "Amazing team? We played like a bunch of losers out there. I let the team down, I let myself down. It's fucking embarrassing."

"It's okay to feel frustrated, Jack," you said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "But remember, one bad game doesn't define you or the team. You've all worked hard to get where you are, and setbacks are just part of the game."

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I know. I feel like I could have done more, should have done more."

"Jack," you said, looking directly into his eyes, "you're a good player, and tonight doesn't define you or the team. Sometimes, things just don't click. You'll bounce back stronger, and so will the team. This is just a bump in the road."

Jack's shoulders sagged, and he nodded slowly, the weight on him seemingly lifting a bit. "Thanks for being here," he mumbled, sighing.

You both got out of the car and walked towards your home. Jack took a long, warm shower and you stayed up for him despite it being late and you having work the next morning. You wanted to be there for him, no matter how late it was.

As Jack disappeared into the bathroom, you busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing a light snack and a cup of tea, knowing he would appreciate the gesture after such a rough game.

Finally, you heard the sound of the water shutting off, followed by the shuffle of footsteps approaching. Jack emerged from the bathroom, towel draped around his waist, looking visibly more relaxed than before.

"Feeling any better?" you asked, offering him a warm smile as you handed him a steaming mug of tea, his favorite flavor: ginger and lemon (with a lot of honey).

He took it gratefully, the steam rising to his face as he took a sip. "Yeah, a little," he admitted, leaning on the counter. "Thanks for staying up. I know it's late."

You shrugged, dismissing his concerns. "No problem. You needed someone to talk to after tonight."

"It means a lot, you being here," Jack said, his voice softer now, touched by a hint of vulnerability. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

A warm feeling swelled in your chest at Jack's words, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings. You reached out and gently squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile. "Of course I'll be here, Jack. I love you."

"I love you too." He responded with a small smile before putting the half empty mug on the counter. "I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

As Jack headed towards the bedroom, you cleaned up the kitchen, letting the remnants of the night's emotions settle. The glow of the bedside lamp welcomed you as you entered the bedroom. Jack, now in comfortable clothes, looked at you with a grateful expression. You joined him under the covers, the warmth of the blankets wrapping around you like a cocoon.

You pulled Jack in closer, letting his head rest on your chest. You traced gentle circles on Jack's back, a soothing gesture that showed reassurance. The weight of the disappointing game, the frustrations, and the doubts seemed to dissipate as the night enveloped you both.

"You're my home, Y/N." He whispered drowsily as he began falling asleep, pulling you in closer. A tender smile graced your lips at Jack's words. In the quiet of the night, with the pattern of his breathing against your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of love rush through you.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[thelampisaflashlight]

Dew, fresh from the shower: "Mount, I can't use the shared bathroom in the dorms anymore." Mountain, looking up from his phone: "Hm?" Dew, leaning against the doorframe: "Went to go tell the others I was getting in the shower so they could go in before me if they needed to pee or whatever, and you know what happened, Mount? You know what happened to me?" Mountain, sitting up: "...What happened?" Dew, pinching the bridge of his nose: "I went to go tell them, and I took two steps towards the living room and let out the loudest goddamned fart of my fucking life. Shit fucking echoed off the walls, and just when I thought, 'Fuck, this can't get any worse-' I let it rip again, Mount, and this wasn't a little pfft, this was a cartoon ass explosion level fart..." Mountain, trying not to laugh: "O-Oh?" Dew, pressing his forehead against the wall: "Mount, I was like, 'I'm gonna take a shower.' and Swiss said, 'What, you shit yourself, dude?' and I didn't even have time to defend myself before Aether started in on his, 'You ate cheese again, didn't you-' lecture, and YEAH! Yeah, I ate cheese, but goddammit-" Swiss, from the hall: "I'm surprised that little ass could produce so much noise!" Dew, leaving the room: "Motherfucker, I- Hold on." -closes the door- "When I get my hands on you-"

[megumisgirl]

too hot. a game where the two players kiss without stopping and touching each other. if one player touches the other, s/he loses. the winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

megumi x fem!reader

on a regular day, you wouldn't indulge in stupid games with your best friend-- megumi. specially at a party. you were a sloppy(-horny-)drunk, and you kept the horny to yourself.

"come on, y/n!" yuuji whined, dragging you as megumi stood behind you. you turned to look at him with a pleading look so he'd help you with yuuji. but he just looked away.

as much as megumi hated you being drunk, he kind of secretly loved it. how you would bat your eyelashes at him, how touchy you would get, kissing his jaw, going lower and lower till he has to forcefully stop you. the only thing he hated was how you forgot everything the next day because of your bad tolerance.

"megumi! tell him i can't!" you whined, yuuji wheezed, dragging you in the private room. nobara, maki, inumaki, yuuta sat in a circle, waiting for the three of you. "guys!" you whined.

"there they are!" nobara said, angrily. " 'bout time!" you groaned as yuuji pushed you. you sat down beside nobara as megumi sat opposite you. you smiled at him sarcastically as he smiled back at you.

"we have an exam tomorrow!" you whined, the group boo-ed as you raised your hand up, signalling peace. nobara put the bottle in the middle and leaned back.

"so, we're playing too hot. whoever the two people lands on, must kiss untill one of them breaks it, or touches the other. winner does whatever the fuck they want with the loser." nobara smirked, "and i mean... whatever."

naturally, your eyes went to the raven haired man in front of you. his eyes were already focused on you. his blue eyes now almost seeming black, with lust, greed and hope. you took in a breath, blinking, hoping you imagined that. his eyes, however, stayed focus on you. how you squirmed under his gaze, your nervousness as the bottle spinned. you watched yuuji and inumaki kiss awkwardly and inumaki telling gojo to flash his abs at the new freshmen students as punishments. you were actually having fun.

as everyone settled down again, the bottle spun. your heart beating inside your ears as the bottle stopped. shit. everyone "ooh"ed as you looked up to see megumi. the boy's cheek crimsoned as maki nobara nudged at you.

"kiss!" she cheered. you looked at her with wide eyes before you looked at megumi again.

"he's my best friend!" you protested. megumi's heart cracked everytime you said something like that. he's just a friend. you're my best friend, megs. but when you were drunk, you'd just blabble the truth. you're so kissable. i wish you would let me kiss you more often. can you rail me, please? he knew you never really meant that, but you did. drunk words are sober thoughts.

"tuna mayo." inumaki said.

"yeah! he had to do what he was said, we even kissed!" yuuji groaned, "you have to as well!" he pulled you towards the center as inumaki pushed megumi to the middle. "inumaki's breath smelled like swiss cheese." he mumbled.

"mayo."

"NO I DID NOT LIKE IT!" yuuji screamed. you looked at megumi who didn't say a single word since you two arrived. you breathed as you brought yourself closer to him.

your lips hoovering over his before he inisiated the kiss. nobara from behind brought your hands to your back, saying something. but the sounds stopped. everything stopped when your lips crashed with his. his tounge swirled over yours as you bit back a moan. moaning in front of everyone while you kissed your best friend would've been an embarassment you couldn't live with.

unconciously, your hands went to his hair, pulling him close as the buzzer rang in your ears. "y/n loses!" yuuji grinned widely, winking at megumi. "fushiguro! you're the winner, what's her punishment?" his blue eyes went to yours before you blushed brightly. your mind still processing the kiss that happened.

"i'll take it from here." megumi said, standing up as he dragged you with him. your eyes wide as the other "ew"ed at you. he dragged you through the various rooms, till he found a good one. he opened the door, pushing you inside before he locked it. your back was still turned to him while your mind ran scenarios of what could happen right now.

you turned out to face the raven haired boy. he just looked at you, savouring every inch of what he was going to destroy. his hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning yours. "not drunk.." he mumbled, taking your hands as he checked your pulse, "not drugged." his eyes went back to yours, but you stared at the two of your hands connected. his large hands practically absorbed yours.

you looked up at him when his hands slowly went higher, caressing you in the slighest way. "megumi..." you breathed out, "what are you doing?" you asked. he didn't answer right way, his hands snaked to your neck, and then the back of his hands caressed your cheek before you leaned in his touch. closing your eyes, letting the dim purple light beam through your eyes.

"what i should've done years ago." he said, before pulling you by your neck and crashing his lips into yours. you moaned at his rough movement before you moaned in his mouth before he guided you to the bed. you slammed on your back before you pulled your sweatpants down. you didn't a chance to breathe before his lips was on yours again.

"megumi..." you moaned as his lips nibbled at your neck, your jaw, your earlobes. his hands roamed around your body, pinching, rubbing and caressing every bit of free skin he could find. his hands went inside your hoodie, pinching your nipple. "ah!" you moaned in his mouth. he groaned as your hands went to his buldge, palming it over his sweatpants.

with one swift movement he took of your skirt, leaving you only in his hoodie and your panties. he pushed you into the bed, the matress sinking as he lowered himself right in front of your pretty cunt. his long slender fingers rubbed you over your panties, you bit your lips, trying to calm the moans that were in your throat. the loud chase atlantic music coming from outside, the loud thumps making your heartbeat faster than it already was.

pushing your panties aside, he ran his fingers through your slick folds. you whimpered, your legs spreading unconciously. he looked up to see your face, head thrown back, hair sticking to your face from the sweat, your face red and mouth slight agape. you felt his gaze as you lowered your head. your eyes hazy and vision blurry.

he pulled your panties and threw it somewhere with your skirt on the floor. wrapping his arms around your thick thighs he yanked you closer to him. you yelped at the sensation. his tounge flickered over your bud, licking, kissing, sucking. doing anything to make you feel good.

you arched your back, pushing yourself further into his mouth as you felt your orgasm near but he stopped. you panted as you opened your eyes, your mascara smudged from the tears and your lipstick anywhere but on your lips. "this is a punishment, remember?" he smirked, you whined. a sharp slap to your pussy. you jerked up from the sensitivity, tears welling in your eyes as you moaned as he rubbed your cunt. "good girls don't whine, y/n. they take their punishments, and get rewards..." he lowered himself to your ears, kissing your cheek as he whispered, "do you want your reward, y/n?"

you never saw megumi like this. truth be told, you barely acknowledged that he might have feelings for you. but seeing him like this made the knot in your stomach tighten, "yes." you said, breathlessly, almost panting.

he sent you a mocking smile before he got up again. his hands running through your hair, letting your bun fall loose. he kissed the top of your nose as he pushed your hoodie upwards and your bra downwards. his thumbs gazed over your peaked nipples as you shuddered at his touch.

he kissed your nipple. rolling his tounge over your bud as he gently grazed his teeth over it. you turned your head to your side, trying to stiffle the moans but he roughly turned your head to him. his hands still wet from your slick, "i want to hear you, okay? dont be quite."

he made it impossible for you to be quiet. his fingers went in and out of you, knuckles deep, at such a fast pace, you felt your entire body shake. and just as you were going to come, he would stop. making even more tears fall from your eyes. the sound of your sobs and his fingers squelching in and out of you filled the room.

"megumi please..." you sobbed in a shaky breath, he laughed, taking his shirt off, his perfect tonned and tanned abs in display for you. "please let me come." you cried, he ran a thumb over your tears and brought it to his lips, licking your tears as you inhaled shakily.

"aww... you wanna come?" he taunted, you snuffled, nodding your head. "fine, butterfly." he cooed, running his hands through your hair as he pushed his sweatpants down with his free hand. "i'll let you come this time, hmm?"

he tapped the tip of his swollen dick to your pussy, making you jerk up again. a soft smile placed on his lips as he kissed you sloopily. his dick slipping inside you perfectly because of how wet you were. he thursted all nine inches of him side, you arched your back, feeling him up your throat as you shook your head.

"too full, too full, too full!" you mumbled, curling your toes as you felt your orgasm near.

he brought his face closer to yours whispering praises as you cried at his girth, "doing so well, butterfly." he kissed your cheek, leaning back to see his cock slide perfectly in and out of your pussy. a ring of arousal coating each thurst. he started going harder, rougher, deeper, "so tight.." he mumbled, grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder.

he used his free hand to rub circles around your swollen clit. thats all you needed to come all over him. hot liquid gushed all over his thighs, your leg and the sheets. he smiled cockily, "i made ya' squirt?" he chuckled, drool slipped from your mouth as he flipped you over, so you'd be over on your stomach.

he pushed you down and arched your back just the right way before he entered you again. you screamed as he hit your g-spot. the second orgasm almost coming minutes later. he wrapped your loose hair around his fists and pulled you up. saliva dripping from your open mouth, tears streaming down your face. a smirk formed on his lips, "have i fucked you dumb, y/n?" he chuckled.

you cleched at his words, squeezing his dick as he lets go of your hair. your head thumping into the pillows as he thursted into you sloopily. bruises started to show on your hips as he gripped you tightly.

you gushed out all over him again, triggering his come to squirt all over your thighs, your stomach and your boobs. he panted on top of you, both of your breathing getting lost into the music.

"i should come to parties more often." you joked, he chuckled, still panting as he laid a soft kiss into your mouth.

"yeah, you should."

[biceratops7]

Not to rot everyone's swiss cheese brains further,

but Aziraphale was throwing that ball for Crowley. No seriously, he was throwing that ball for Crowley.

We all got so distracted by the cheeky little "Wait and See" that we never stopped to think about what it actually means. Cause at first glance it makes no damn sense. "Wait and see" ...for what? The big ridiculous Jane Austen ball Crowley already knows is happening?

Look at the way he ushers Crowley away here. Why?? Wouldn't it make more sense if Crowley was included in the planning of this event he's fully aware of and is the result of a fuck up he's exactly half responsible for?

The reason is simple, it's because the chance to try and do something romantic for once just fell into Aziraphale's lap. At some point very early on he realized that this damn ball can finally... finally be the precisely right time, and precisely right place. And above all, safe. An "independent embassy", as he so proudly states later on. 6,000 years of hiding what's clearly a blossoming relationship under the threat of harm to both of you takes a massive toll. He doesn't really get to bridge that gap whenever he's ready. After all they've been through and how many times they almost lost each other, Aziraphale wouldn't dare do something like this without a plausible excuse. He won't put Crowley in danger, even if its to show he loves him.

So then that leaves Aziraphale with very little options, but he's doing all he can to make the best of the rare opportunities they do have. Some celebratory wine, a fond glance over some candle light (pfft, for the war effort, of course! As an angel it's his duty to set a good example on how to conduct one's self in a blitz, Obviously), etc. He doesn't just have the spur of the moment plan to invite Crowley to dance (which is what Crowley was "smelling" btw), It's about giving him this whole experience that on any other day, Aziraphale never gets to give him. He wants to make Crowley feel special, to have him walk into this beautiful, romantic place that he's never seen before and be invited to dance, to have a simple, fun time.

Unfortunately that doesn't happen, even before things go south. Crowley's way too anxious to even notice any of this. But Aziraphale doesn't let this phase him, he's waited too long and is just unshakably excited to participate in such a human expression of affection. He truly believes the shop is safe, so he patiently soothes Crowley's anxieties while firmly not letting him miss out on this romantic evening he planned.

In other words, Aziraphale has picked up the pace. He's gonna shoot his damn shot and he's gonna do it properly.

[ghostchems]

i can’t believe I’m going to have to say this again but someone won’t keep my name out of their damn mouth (despite blocking).

i don’t care what people ship. personally, i am not into copiiia. in fact, i had an issue with a tumblr user who kept pushing it on me and others who are not into it. but i support people who ship it. who am i to police what people enjoy?

as i’ve said before, it is clear who was here during the tumblr glory days where Wincest was one of the biggest ships on this site. i don’t think any people who shipped that or copiiia are running out into the real world trying to fuck their brothers.

also, just want to remind everyone that none of this is REAL. it’s all made up! why are we policing made up stories? you are so worried about canon when, as i tried to discuss with you, there are more holes than a piece of swiss cheese.

i hope this person finds peace because Jesus Christ, i am sick of hearing about their aggressive bullying. people have reached out to me to tell me about their own experiences with this person.

i honestly recommend blocking and not interacting with them because there’s no point. they will attack you for having different thoughts than them. they don’t deserve your energy.

love you guys. i was off of here for a while but i’m starting to feel the creative juice again AND also the love. even when shit like this happens, it reminds me that i have a network of nice people here who have the same interests.

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Thinking about a coffee shop au where Steve works at Joyce’s coffee shop and I’m ngl It’s a little unhinged.

So Steve stays working at Joyce’s coffee shop, and when he starts he learns one of the resident regulars is a young pre teen girl named Max. She never orders anything, she just comes in, waves to whoever’s working (says “hi Jon” and “hey Joyce” by name but doesn’t seem to know the rest of the baristas like that), and sits herself down at a small table and starts her schoolwork.

By the second time Steve sees her and sees (what he realizes is a daily routine) Joyce bring her either some fruity sweet iced tea lemonade concoction, a matcha, a chai latte, or a mocha and give her a kiss on the cheek, he understands there’s some kind of relationship there. Which is confirmed when he watches Jonathan go sit beside her on his break and crack jokes, catching up with her (and bring her a snickerdoodle) the second time he sees her.

And he knows Joyce’s 3 kids, will, Jonathan and el. By name by story by photo. So he knows this isn’t Joyce’s kid.

So he asks Robin, one of his new co workers he’s become fast friends with.

And so he’s slowly filled in.

“The red head- Oh, max! Yeah. She’s Billy’s sister”

“Who the fuck is Billy?” Steve asks, even more lost. They don’t work with a ‘Billy’.

Robins eyes look uneasy, before they come back.

“Okay, so max is el- you know Joyce’s girl- els best friend. Her older brother is a guy named Billy”

Steve’s even more confused. Joyce’s younger kids- the twins- don’t spend much time in the shop. So why does Els friend hang out here? Well-

“Well, billy works a lot. He’s in college-the one a few blocks away- and he has a full time job and he has a part time job on the weekends and sometiems he even helps out here if joyce needs it, so he’s really busy and not home alot. And because Billy’s a broke college kid with a kid to raise he’s pretty broke so they don’t live in like, the best part of town. So Billy worry’s about her being home alone all afternoon. Sooo she comes here after school. Usually billy picks her up, sometimes Joyce takes her home, but she’s a really good kid. She stays here just so joyce can keep an eye on her and give Billy some peace of mind.”

Steve’s still confused. “Okay… but like where’s their parents? Weird situation don’t you think?”

That uneasy look is back.

“So um. Billy’s actually her step brother, ex step brother? I don’t know. But he’s got full legal guardianship and custody of her at this point and that’s the big thing that matters. Maxs mom kinda fucked off and started drinking herself to death, and Billy’s dad-“.

Robin took a deep breath. “He’s serving a few decades for domestic violence, domestic abuse, child abuse, battery and attempted homicide charges. Most of that shit on billy.”.

Him and max don’t really talk to much. It’s not that he has beef with a 12 year old he just doesn’t know her. And it would be kinda weird to go around making friends with little girls.

But one day he’s making a grilled cheese in the back, and he turns around to green eyes boring into his soul.

“Hey max. You okay?”

“Yeah. Whatcha making? It smells good?”

Steve chuckled.

“Mozzarella, Swiss, bacon and cheddar on sourdough. Fancy grilled cheese. Do you want half?”

And her eyes light up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of corse”.

And just like that Steve is her best friend. And he makes her a sandwich every day. He understands joyce and Jonathan now. It’s very easy to just adore this sweet kid.

And when els around?

They’re the cutest thing. Young, 12 year old puppy love. It’s the cutest thing on earth. Just all giggles and smiles.

But it takes months for Steve to meet Billy. Usually he either clocks out before Billy arrives (and he now says goodbye to max by name) or when he closes it happens to be Joyce’s nights bringing her home.

So when he first meets Billy, he simply doesn’t know he’s meeting Billy.

A gorgeous, but exhausted looking fella comes in one evening, Steve’s breath is taken away.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Can I get an americano with a pump of caramel and an extra shot”.

Steve nods. “Any dairy?” “Still have oat milk or out for the day?”

Steve looks in the fridge. “You’re in luck, handsome”

The man looks up with surprised blush.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it. What I owe ya?”

“Don’t worry about it” Steve winks.

“I told Joyce to stop doing this; she does too much for us” the pretty man chuckles and sighs and a moment of confusion hangs before Steve’s eyes light up.

Joyce? He knows- us? Too much for- oh-

“Oh my god! You’re Billy-“

And Billy looks confused. “Maxs brother, yeah? “

“Yeah yeah that’s me. Um-“

“Sorry- sorry had no idea. Sorry wasn’t a joyce coffee on the house thing that was me trying to flirt with you. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry- you were hitting on me?”

They’re both taken away from the conversation by maxs voice as the girl walks out of the bathroom.

“Billy?” “Hey shortstack” he greets, welcoming her hug. Or her flinging herself onto his back. Oh. Aww.

“What are you doing here?”

“Night class got canceled, figured I’d come getcha as a little surprise and we’d have a girls night, some scary movies anddddd some Mac and cheese?”.

And it’s kinda sweet, you know. Billy’s canceled class was clearly a surprise. To max and Joyce too. He coulda taken the night for himself. Go to a bar, a club.

But he’d rather have quality family time with his kiddo.

Steve’s a goner. He knew from those big blonde curls the second they walked in the door but now he really knows.

[phoenix--flying]

pjo characters as things my friend group has said

Hazel: I just kinda radiate towards caves

Nico: Breathing has been taken out of Nicos software

Connor: I can speedrun to your house when you're home alone

Cecil: raisins are dehydrated rats

Percy: It's a roller coaster where the only option is to die

Will: I just goooot- my jugular sliced open by a cat

Nico: We're going out tonight and killing all the homophobes. Call it a date

Will: Why am I so much taller then- Oh its cause im standing on a dead body

Connor: You're sooo welcome. I literally did nothing

Hazel: Just because your trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. It's called a trash can not a trash cannot

Piper: Cut my hair, I'll cut your throat

Thalia: Sometimes I do slap kids

Travis: When I grow up I'm gonna be a legal drug dealer

Beckendorf: I’m going to drop kick myself into space

Malcom: Briefly describe three applications that make use of the total eternal reflection of light Connor: The colour seven

Grover: Percys reaching old age, we should put him in a retirement home

Piper: Leo what did you do Leo: I may have burned down an orphanage and it may have spread to this site.

Lou Ellen: Travelling, usually done on the ceiling

Will: Imagine sitting on your couch watching TV and your phone buzzes. Reminder: Breathe

Austin: i just broke an acorn.. panic whY IS THERE AN ACORN IN MY ROOM

Nico: i feel like today happened yesterday and i just slept for all of tomorrow and woke up in the evening

Malcom: yeah i fell down the stairs and broke my spine in 3 places Connor: that's hot

Jason: Nitroglycerin. The forbidden smoothie

Will: I always look like trash. Annabeth: I know that's why I hate looking like trash

Travis: well we only have a few minutes left of class.. y'all wanna watch something explode

Piper: It sounded like you smoked 10 packs of cigarettes and then hit puberty

Jason: Imagine you get fired the day after you die

Nico: My stomach just like...started learning German

Nyssa: Leo if you don't leave, i'm shoving this desk fan up your ass

Jason: I slammed my foot on the accelerator, running multiple red lights at 220km/h, because I wanted to drive safe

Nyssa: When you go through the car wash but you forget the car

Drew: *points at trashcan* That looks like you

Nico: I only want chemistry between me and a coffin

Jake: Gotta put your wheelchair in 4Wheeldrive. Outdoor mode. Off-road mode

Leo: Murder is ok as long as its fine

Percy: Maybe if I fall asleep on my textbook I'll wake up with all the knowledge

Connor: Let's play spin the bottle but it's only you and me

Leo: Now how do we calculate the density if swiss cheese

Clarisse: I have to ask one of the experts Chris: Who are the experts? Clarisse: I don't know

Piper: Your mom is on vacation Leo: well- she's on a permanent vacation

Michael: AYO BITCH YOUR FOODS FLAMIN THE FUCK

Silena: If you're slow I'm a fucking snail

Jason: We need to hold a funeral! Percy: Here comes the bride

Beckendorf: Have you ever died? No??? Well here you go!!! Death simulator. It’s permanent!

*Annabeth and Percy sitting on a bench with drinks and a cop drives by* Percy: What if they thought we were drinking and driving Annabeth: We're not in a car

Will: I'm so smart Nico: Oh my god since when

Piper: *gives Leo a singular goldfish* Piper: Feeding the poor

Lou Ellen: Bless your soul Nico: What soul? Lou Ellen: ...good answer

Sherman: an apple a day keeps the doctor away, and anybody else if you throw it hard enough

Connor: I can see the veins in my eyes

Ellis: Whatever sinks your boat!

Cecil: You can't kill the gays if the gays kill you first

Will: dude sorry there's a knife in your grandma's face it grew wings and flew there :( Cecil: I’m sorry my knife flew out of my hand and slit that guys throat then burned it so he wouldn’t bleed

Silena: *playing Minecraft* I walked into your house and your birds started aggressively dancing at me

Lee: That's just so unfortunate for me. That is just so- oh I died

Percy: Wanna go to Toronto? Why drive just take the Earth Quake on natural disaster

Travis: The roof is just caving in on us it's fine

Michael: My arms are broken, my legs are broken, my lungs are broken, my knees are broken, I got decapitated when I was five

Connor: We're gonna die? No we're gonna beat the speedrun world record

Cecil: Hell to go down I there

Will: Mask to mask resuscitation

Travis: I may or may not have accidentally dropped a match in the building on purpose

Nico: Minecraft but I accidentally sets a school on fire

Percy: Minecraft but I die of hypothermia

Piper: Minecraft but I left my eyes at home

Jake: Minecraft but my legs are broken

Jason: Minecraft but I died

Lou Ellen: Minecraft but we're all gay

Will: If I die the game is homophobic

Cecil: Minecraft but I run my best friend over

Nico: I wanna hit a citizen with a baseball bat

Michael: Hey sir, you have Alzheimer’s. Would you like a side of bronchitis?

Silena: Why can't this be straight? Lee: Because you're not

Lou Ellen: mmmm i love my jesus fish Cecil: bro jesus fish Lou Ellen: ikr, jesus moment

[daddymothxxx]

For Basimah

Some things happen so fast.

He came out with his blue, raspberry flavored, slushy and box of loaded fries from a some hole in the wall hotdog joint with a logo that reminded him of a clown. Pep in his step.

Paying not a single bit of mind to the distant screech of tires down the block as he found a bench to sit at. Kicking loose a bum Sinner sleeping on it under a few sheafs of newspaper. Off you go. And off they went.

Dusted his spot off with a hand and had a seat. Popping box open with one set of hands and getting gold caps off with another, shortly pocketed. The roar of racing engines was getting closer, but he was busy eating his fries and indulging himself a few happy, quiet, squeaks about it. Though food down here didn't taste like more than a memory of the living world's version, it did still hit all the good brain spots like scratching under a dog's chin.

And drag racing wasn't at all illegal or uncommon.

Had no reason to think otherwise.

Didn't until well after the pain bloomed in his torso and the screaming started. Barely heard the gunshots that proceeded. Automatic gunfire that made Swiss cheese of the bricks and windows behind him--and likely his chest.

Though he didn't exactly have a starkly defined account of the number of holes there. He suspected many more than were good for him.

His vision was tunneling even as he found himself slumped on bench with his head tipped back. Red sky appearing, to him, to be a shade of murky burgundy--too dark and too gray. His first gasp since it happened made fireworks pop off in his vision. (Somewhere he heard breaks.)

A bleated and still functional part of his thoughts not currently overwhelmed by pain wondered if he'd been the target or just collateral. Either option seemed plausible. Drive-bys? They aren't particularly accurate. Only devastating and swift.

He got his answer when a hand yanked him by the open collar of his shit shirt. Some skunk looking Sinner that smirked into his face while driving a shard of some long broken blade into his side. Some tight space between his upper and lower arms. Kidneys? He didn't know what was where in his fucked up anatomy.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Angel steel by the way it had him whiting out each time it lanced into his flesh. Pulling a choked sound each time. There was already blood in his lungs from the mundane bullets that'd gotten in them.

"For Basimah." The Sinner told him, pat his face, and shoved him over to the side onto the bench. Sprinting off back to waiting car that immediately peeled away. Not dumb enough to stick around or dally.

Everyone knew Vox had eyes on Valentino and there was only a slight window of time to exploit in the Overlord's awareness. The job was done.

[maircries]

So I started Red Valley and I’m on S2E8 and it’s really good, don’t get me wrong

But what, and I seriously cannot emphasize this enough, the FUCK is going on. I’ve listened to all of this but feel like I’ve processed none. Call me Warren Godby because I’ve got holes in my brain like Swiss cheese trying to process this (is that what’s happening to him seriously I don’t understand)

[malaierba]

i just peaked into an alternative TL where Laios was the one that got eaten by the dragon, so Falin & co had to go save him.

The way it played out (and I was thinking about this before falling asleep bcs it came up in a conversation with a RP buddy) Falin wants to go immediately, Marcille and Toshiro can't stop her, ChilChuck tags along, Namari is instructed by Toshiro to go look for his retainers so they catch up to them since he feels like the party is at a disadvantage with only him as a physical fighter.

The funny thing is that the fandom went from a ship war between Farcille and Shulin to a unspoken agreement that those three were in a V poly relationship, since over the course of the story the combined wet paper bag energy of Marcille + Toshiro (plus the face that Toshiro is canonically a bit intimidated by Marcille. Marcille. Marcille) made everyone realise, oh, they're a funny duo, let's put them in situations. Romance is a situation.

And this was the fanon until the party meets Kabru & co, and they rescue Laios, point at which the weird foiling/reflecting/"I respect you and I know you've had good intentions with me but the way you approach me gets on my nerves because it's rude and also I feel responsible for not making up for your carelessness which got you eaten but also if you saw me properly I'd want to befriend you please SEE ME properly so I can befriend you"/"you're the coolest thing since swiss cheese what do you mean we aren't friends already"/"actually I agree with the guy dying to kick some sense into you and also your ass I've been trying to befriend you for so long please look at me properly this is who I am underneath wanting to leverage your strength and also keep an eye on you bcs your fascination with monsters concerns me: a guy who recognises your strengths and your struggles and wants to relate to you as an equal"/"btw isn't it funny how we're so similar in so many ways, intrigued buddy who I've just adopted?" "You're right, interesting, this is the first time I find it so easy to speak to a guy approximately my age" "surrogate mommy issues?" 🤝 "Surrogate mommy issues" happens,

At which point the fandom divided like we were the sea and fucking moses was taking a stroll:

Pathetic failgirls V-shaped poly ship VS. Chaotic yaoi polycule. The shade was insane, "Toshiro's a trans girl and Falin cracked his egg" truthers vs. "He's gay and demi and so repressed he's one 'no, thank you' away from collapsing into himself like black hole"

Don't get distracted. The IMPORTANT THING was that in this dream I kept winning because my blorbo (Toshiro, Falin) is automatically my fandom bicycle so I was thriving. It was a feast and chat I was getting fed.

This revelation looped like 4 times with minimal changes in my mind (that I can remember). It was great. Why am I in this fuckass TL smfhsmfhsmfhsmfhblrblrwrlll