#and it sucks more cause!!! at least one of the games was really big for me at a point

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[vee-da-skee]

yknow maybe it's been good that i've stayed away from o.kegom for a while

[eve209]

Im sick of waiting :3

-REIGEN ARATAKA X TOP MALE READER-

READ: I’m making this because I’m sick of fucking waiting for someone to make another Reigen smut…ONLY 2 SMUTS OF REIGEN, I HAVE WAITED FOR 2 YEARS NOW BRO AND IM SICK. so I have decided to do it.

!WARNINGS!- little bit of hair pulling, rough make out, choking, fucking on the couch, semi public???, little rough, nicknames (hun, beautiful, momma, love, etc.) and talking about getting reigen pregnant ;)

“You doin ok down there baby?” You say as you pet Reigens head as he chokes on your dick.

“Mmmmh!~” Reigen moans under his desk, gripping your thighs as his own legs shake. You and Reigen were alone at the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, Alone as everyone was gone since it was late. The sunset was bleeding into the office windows as you smirk and run your hands  through his hair. Seeing him choke on your dick, moaning like he’s the one getting his dick suck. How cute….

You groan, throwing your head back as you feel the urge to cum, pulling Reigens hair to get that tight mouth off of you. He whimpers, looking up at you, “y-you were gonna cum though…” he saying catching his breath and wiping his mouth.

“I’m just waiting to come inside that ass of yours hun, calm down.” You say smiling and leaning down to wipe the cum off the corner of his mouth and grabbing his chin to kiss him. He moans as you slip your tongue in, letting you explore his mouth. You wrap your arms around his legs and pick him up, still kissing him while walking to the couch on the other side of the office. 

Reigen ripped onto your shirt, moaning into the kiss so loud the damn cafe below can probably hear them. “Fuck sweetheart…quiet down…” you said in between kisses. He moans again as your hand slides up his neck, slightly gripping it.

He starts to grid his waist up, trying to get some friction but doesn’t succeed. He whines and rests his arms beside him on the couch.

‘Damn he must be needy as shit…’ you thought, reasons why is cause Regien NEVER is this…active? During sex at least. He’s usually like a pillow princess! Never doing any work and letting you do every single thing.

The only thing he’s ever really did anything like that was ride you ONE time…and of course it was for your birthday. How sweet of him… “once in a life time chance for a birthday boy” as he quoted it. Well that was the best sex you probably ever had! He was bouncing up and down on your cock. Moaning about how big it is and how he wants you to stuff him with some birthday babies…Arching his back and looking down at you, smiling and biting his lip while his own hand was playing with his nipple and the other on your chest. Calling you ‘Such a good boy..’ for taking all this ass….

You lowkey moaned remembering that night..even the setting was amazing! But anyways, that’s for another time.

You rip off Reigens pants, immediately going start for those tan, smooth, sensitive of his thighs. Biting those thighs up so quick the second you see them. Reigen moans, grabbing a fist of your hair gently, gripping onto the couch pillow he’s leaning his head on as he arches his back. “F-fuck (M/n)…Y-you make me feel so fucking good…” and oh my god you feel yourself almost cumming in your pants. His voice is so beautiful..Everything about him is so damn hot to you. You’re so fucking in love with him…

You lick the bruises on his thigh before looking up him with lustful eyes. “Hey beautiful? You think you still stretched out from last night or do you want me to finger you a lil more?”. Reigen blushes and shakes his head, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “I think I’m ok…j-just fuck me hard, mkay?”. You blush and nod before smirking, sitting up on your knees and going to the drawer to grab a condom and some lube.

You take a deep breath, sliding on the condom and squirting some lube on with one hand as the other massages Reigens thigh for reassurance.

“You ready momma?” You say looking up, grabbing both the back of his thighs and hold them apart as you lean forward to his face. He blushes and nods, grabbing the back of your head and whispering in your ear…

“Do your worst..”

————————————————————————

“F-fuck (M/n)!~ Oh my ff-Ah!”

It’s been 2 hours. Now 10 at night. Straight fucking the shit out of Reigen. Switching positions left and right, making out til both of you lose breath, and so much damn cum. But of course some 2 minute water breaks here and there.

The sun was set by now. Only a lamp on reigens desk on the other side of the office still on. The calming scent of the office surprisingly still there. You bite your lip, your hands on reigens ass, spreading it apart to see his sweet hole sucking your dick like a damn lollipop. You guys are now in doggy position. His pretty face stuffed in a pillow as his back is arched.

“(M/n)…I-i can’t go any l-longer!~ Please I feel like I’m gonna break!” Reigen says after moving his head to the side, such pretty tears streaming down his face. You lean to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Ok baby.. can you cum one more time for me? Then I’ll clean you up and carry you home, ok?”. Reigen nods and breathes in deep, resting his head on the couch pillow, biting his lip so hard you see blood!

You hold his hand from the back, kissing his hair before thrusting in his tummy again. He’s so damn tight she’s practically breaking your dick off! You groan, grabbing a fist of Reigens and pulling him up to see his face. “Come on pretty girl…moan loud for me..” You say as he start to hold his neck instead of his hair since you propped him up on his hands. He moans louder, one hand grabbing your hand on his neck, throwing his head back.

“F-Fuck! (M/n)~ I’m coming! I’m coming!~Ahh!!~” Reigen moaned, coming hard on the pillow. You groan, slamming yourself inside him one more time, coming inside of his stomach. “F-fuck..” you mumble as you look down at him and kiss his cheek before pulling out. “Good job hunny..you did amazing..” you say rubbing his stomach.

He whimpers, resting his body on you, “I’m tired…” he says holding onto your hand tight. You laugh and flip on around to let him rest on your lap, “it’s ok hun…go to bed I’ll clean up and get us home don’t worry.” you say smiling.

He groans while stuffing his face in your neck, “Ok…love you” he mumbles hugging you tightly.

You laugh and look down at him, kissing his forehead as he drifts into sleep.

“I love you more Reigen..good night.”

[blingblong55]

Video games -Keegan P. Russ NSFW

A/N: isn't he dreamy?....he's my husband...don't tell the others

Based on a request: Hey so you think you can make a keegan p russ x reader where keegan is playing a video game and not giving reader any attention so to make him give them attention they suck his dick and make him all horny in the end they have sex In some part can you add face fucking and fingering to and of course p in v And last thing can it be a fem!reader thank you for reading this this is my first request so I really hope you can do this ---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, established!relationship, fingering, face!fucking, P-in-V, gamer!boyfriend ----

A/N: let's thank my guy friend for helping me reenact some parts to write this because in some parts I was dead ass confused on how to explain mental images I had..

Keegan has been playing video games for about two hours. You were downstairs watching some crime show when you noticed the time. "Keegan?" you turn the TV off and walk upstairs. His headset is on as he continues to curse at the screen. Keyboard clicking as you sit on the seat he designated for you. "Babe?" You say again but he can't hear you. You notice how he curses and mumbles words. His frustration grows, he begins to adjust himself on the seat and then he lets out a frustrated groan.

"Fuck…fuck.." he continues to mumble. Your gaze is on his hands as he continues playing, you begin to feel aroused by how he is and his hands. Your warm hands roam your body, trying to call for his attention, "Keegan~" You begin to touch your chest but he still doesn't give you much besides a side glare and a chuckle. "Not now, doll." Your body becomes more aroused and then you get up, walk to him and then get on your knees. Your head rested on the outer side of his leg, eyes big and looking up at him. He looks down and pauses the game, his hands cupping your face, "Just ten more minutes, okay, my love?" he bends down and kisses the top of your forehead.

"But, Keegs-" "My love, just be a good girl and be patient," his tone soft as his gaze goes back to the screen. "Can I be between your legs at least?" "Of course," he shifts and you adjust yourself between his legs. Your pretty face resting on his thighs. His mumbles and curses were still heard, his mates yelling over the headphones and causing him to laugh a few times. Your eyes are on his bulge, a grin as you get an idea. Something he and you have been trying to do for some time, head as he plays a video game. Your hand reaches and begins to rub your hand on his bulge. "What- my love what are you doing?" Your innocent stare and that pouty lip give him an idea and he just lets it happen.

His cock is now in your hands as you lick the tip. "Fuck.." he moans and pushes your head to go further on him. His mates ask for his help as he throws his head back. "Just like that," he looks back down and smiles. Your gaze filled with tears Your head bobbing as your gaze stays on him. "God you're so good," he strokes your hair out of your face. One of your hands on his leg as you try and pull away but he wouldn't let you. You begin to gag, mascara tears run down your face, he wipes them off and then leaves the game. "Fuck…c'mere," he forces you to stand up and throws you to the bed.

"Keegan-" his mouth on yours immediately, rough hands roaming your body, unclothing you and starting to leave marks on you. His cock is hard by the second which leads him to let his fingers move your panties to the side. "Open your mouth," he commands, his fingers inside of your mouth. "Just like that, keep sucking on them." His moans and yours, mix to one. You begin to feel his other hand on your clit, slowly teasing your sensitive tissue. You get more aroused, your hips moving as you feel his thick fingers inside your cunt. You whimper and moan, your fingers on your clit. "So greedy you need more?" he chuckles, fingers out of your cunt as he undoes your bra.

Warm tongue on your hard nipples, your mouth still wrapped around his fingers. "Fuck…Keegan- fuck.." your moans louder as you feel him slap and finger your cunt. Your drool dripping down, that stare of yours only making him want more. He can't take it so he manhandles you into spreading your legs wide open, his hand on your throat as the tip of his cock teases and slaps your entrance. You wrap your hand on his wrist as he begins to slowly thrust inside of you. "Oooh, darlin'…fuck..you're so tight," he moans. His thrusts are slow and delicate, your clit receiving her much-needed attention. He leans forward and moans by your ear.

At this point it was noticeable he didn't care for any video game as he feels the need to own your body over and over. He begins to grin at your cunt with each one of his thrusts. Your once horny approach now brings better pleasure than some toy you'd plan on using. Your eyes are half closed, moans so sweet and soft it makes him want to ruin you more. "You like that?" he says as his thrusts begin to hit your g spot. You close your eyes and Keegan loses control. You begin to clench around him, leaving him with more loud moans and light whimpers.

"Fuck pretty girl," he kisses your neck and once he feels your juices all over his fat cock, he pulls out. Thinking it was over, you reach for the blanket before he once more manhandles your head to the edge of the bed. You look up, gaze hald drunk as you know what's to come. His cock slaps your cheeks before he holds your head and lets his cock fill your small mouth.

Your cunt still throbbing and even more so as he fucks your mouth without mercy. His balls hit your now sticky skin, your moans muffled by his cock. You gag more and let out desperate whimpers but he won't let you out of this so easily. His hips thrusting in and out of your mouth, your throat for sure being sore by the next day. Keegan's hands grip hard on your head, not caring for you since at this moment you were nothing more than a fuck doll to him. His thrusts get more sloppy as his pre-cum begins to drip on your face. He slaps your tits a few times and watches as they jiggle. Your still sensitive cunt in view gives him more reasons to cum.

"Fuck…oh..shit..yes" his moans now low and mumbled. Your eyes leak tears of both pain and pleasure. You can't help but begin to enjoy this. Keegan couldn't contain it anymore. His cum paints your throat white. He out and before you can spit out his entire load he forces your mouth shut, "swallow like a good girl," he commands. You beg with your eyes but it only makes him slap you. "Be good," he warns and slaps you again. Once you swallow his cum, you stick your tongue out and he spits in your mouth. "Swallow it," he says once more and you obey.

"Good girl, r/n." his lips meet your forehead and he carries you back to his side of the bed where he proceeds to cuddle you and whisper more praises.

It was safe to say, the rest of the evening was spent in bed, in the comfort of his arms.

A/N: I died half way through this...and I now know who the horny bitches in my blog are....love yaaaaa

Tags:

@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @madsdawson @luvmariax0 @vellichor-of-the-mundivagant @willowaftxn83-87 @magpiemoon6 @cumikering @luvecarson @crystaljade22 @imantieverythingsoleavemealone @ivoovu @nellsbobells @ghostslittlegf @sadieesssss @idkwhatisyou @genshinremite @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @krinoid24 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87

[sednas]

as always, the baji one is longer because I am still in love with him

༘♡ ft. draken, mikey, mitsuya, chifuyu, baji, ran, hanma x gn!reader

✶࿐ tw: cry cry cry cry cry

draken is the kind of guy who would pull you into a bear hug as soon as he sees the tears in the corner of your eyes

he's warm and big, providing a much needed sense of security

you would drown in his scent and his oversized hoodie as you keep crying

"you're okay, I'm here, nothing's going to hurt you now." is the kind of thing he would say, insisting on the fact that he will protect you

♡

mikey would hold your hand through your whole crying session

he'd give your hand a soft squeeze every now and then, to let you know that he's still here

if you tell him why you're crying he will already think of a way to fix your problem

but he wouldn't mind sitting in silence until you're done crying either, he's a patient man, even more so when it comes to you

he would probably cry once he's alone too, because he absolutely hates it when you're sad

♡

mitsuya wouldn't want to overstep and would wait until you want to talk about it

but if you keep crying, he'll start to worry and end up touching you anyway

he would start by softly touching your hair until his hand is behind the back of your head and then he would pull you closer so you can cry on his shoulder

he will make you something to eat or run you a bath once you finally stop crying

♡

baji hates to see you cry, it's something that makes him physically angry at the world because why someone as nice as you would deserve such pain?

baji is the best hugger out there, his back rubs are amazing

he would lay down on his bed with you and start rubbing your back

he's the kind of guy who would try to make you laugh or at least try to make you think about something else

at some point he would invent a dumb game where you have to guess which animal he's thinking about by the way he's tracing its name behind your back

a few minutes go by and you're suddenly laughing because you guessed it was an elephant while he was in fact thinking of an alligator

♡

he tells you that you suck at this game and you gently bite on his chin as a comeback and you can't even remember why you were crying a few seconds ago

chifuyu would cry with you, maybe not as hard as you but he would shed a few tears

actually, he would get a bit overwhelmed seeing you so sad and he wouldn't know what to do for the first few minutes

but if you ask him to hold you he would react within a second

"of course, please don't cry, just tell me what's going on."

it's okay if you don't answer him, he'll hold you the whole time

by the end of your crying session he makes sure you've calm down and you do the same because he looks as moved as you

♡

ran would first make sure you are not physically injured before doing anything else

once he's sure you're not hurt he would pull you into his arms, wrapping them behind your back

"why are you crying uh?" he would ask in his usual deep voice, like he's not really concerned

but his hands are slightly shaking, and if it's a person who caused your sadness, he's already ready to cut off their throat

♡

hanma would let you stain his shirt with your tears for as long as you need it

he would laugh at anybody else crying but you are the only exception

he would play with your hair until you stop crying or he would start smoking with you still in his arms

he would stay silent for the most part, simply humming whenever he hears a strangled sob coming from you

but in the end he would want to know the reason why you were crying

he wants to say a quick hello to the one who made you sad

tokyo revengers masterlist

[sourmiguel]

Hi there!

Biggest sterek fan here, could you recommend any Alive Hale family fics where they love Stiles and want Sterek to happen.

Bonus point if Peter plays the matchmaker and tell Derek to stop being uptight

Pretty please 🙏.

Also thank you for the amazing work you’re doing with your blog, much appreciated 🫶🏻

Hey! I have so many Alive Hale Fam fics bookmarked it's crazy! I love them so much. I'm not coming up with any Peter ships Sterek specifically, but here is a wide variety of some fun Alive/Meddling Hale Fam fics:

Blind Date With a Book by thepsychicclam (wc30361, mature)

Summary: Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books. Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

I’m totally obsessed with this fic. So cute. I love Derek and his aversion to his blind dates. I love Stiles and how cute and eager he is. I love their game nights. I just love this.

Follow the Jelly Beans by @afailureandamasterpiece (wc5793, teen)

Summary: Derek waves hello to everyone else who is gathered around a bare tree and hops up the stairs to his childhood bedroom to put on his soft flannel bottoms. Gracie had picked them out especially for him last Christmas and he made sure to pack them for the traditional pajama decorating party. Only his pants aren’t in the bag. In fact, none of his belongings are in the bag. It’s not his bag at all. “Oh no,” he mutters, sifting through the contents. “Who the fuck packed this?”

I love: meet cutes, Hale family love, single father!Stiles, fluff. This has all of that.

Just a Hobby by kaistrex (wc3009, teen)

Summary: Five times Deputy Derek shelters his partner from the world of the supernatural and the one time he discovers he’s just been making a fool of himself.

Silly Derek, trying to shelter Stiles from the big bad world of the supernatural.

When You’re Close I Feel The Sparks by Leslie_Knope (wc39671, mature)

Summary: The guy is hot as hell, sure—leather jacket and glasses, Jesus, be still Stiles’ poor, bisexual, beating heart—but more importantly, it must really suck being new on the first day of senior year. “We’re adopting him,” he decides, tugging Scott and Kira by the elbow in that direction. “Let’s go.”

This is the best kind of HSAU - still in the ‘verse, just everyone lives. I love the progression of their relationship and the twists and turns of this fic!

Hale’s Modern Encyclopedia of Playing Cards (and Dating Humans) by thepsychicclam (wc49698, mature)

Summary: Wolves don’t date humans. And Derek’s okay with that. He’s got his Pack, his friends in the Pack network, and lacrosse. Plus, he plays cards with his grandma all the time. Stiles Stilinski definitely doesn’t factor into his life - no matter how much of a crush Derek has on him. But when bird creatures attack Derek, Stiles, and their friends in the Preserve, Stiles finds out about werewolves and things get pretty complicated. For Derek at least. And he thought school was his only problem, but now he’s grounded and Stiles is hanging around way too much for Derek to ignore him any longer.

I adore Derek and Stiles’s relationship and the growth it goes through in this fic. I think Derek with an uncontrollable crush that makes him wolf out in Stiles’s presence is so cute. I also love the Hale fam and the way Stiles (and Scott and the Sheriff) just get folded in after the crazy. So good.

Children’s Tales by @artemis69 (wc4690, general)

Summary: Be careful, little girl. Don’t go causing troubles in Beacon Hills, little girl, because the Hales live there. Keep away from Beacon Hills, little girl, or the Hales will destroy you. – Or: In a world where the Hales are alive and the protectors of the town of Beacon Hills, the humans politely fake ignorance of their not-really-human status, and they all live happily ever after. Then Kate comes in. Well. Tries to.

There are so many things about this fic that I love - the Sterek friendship, the Hales protecting the town, and the town protecting the Hales right back. So great.

Followers, let us know if you have any Peter ships Sterek / Alive Hale Fam fics for us!

[roanniom]

mutual masturbation w Eddie?

Your Hand

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, mutual masturbation, PIV sex / unprotected sex, overstimulation, teasing, switch energy, dirty talk

I feel like it would be your idea. You’re laying in bed and he gets handsy one day and just on a whim you’re like “ah ah ah, hands to yourself, big boy.”

And he mopes and pouts when you slide over onto your pillow, laying back and keeping yourself out of reach. That is until you start touching yourself and oh my lord the groans coming out of this man. It’s like you’re killing him. When all you’re doing is moving your hand under your little pajama shorts.

“Babe, this is torture. This has to be illegal or something, what are you doing to me?” he cries out in agony, pulling at his hair. You nod down at his lap without stopping your ministrations, calling attention to the tent in his sweatpants.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing to you,” you tease. Eddie scrubs his face with an impatient hand.

“I’m hard as a rock here, princess, show some mercy. My dick fucking aches.”

“So stroke it, handsome. You’ve got full use of your hands.” You know it’s evil even as you say it but you feel devious pleasure well up inside you at the sight of his crumpled face and the way he less than enthusiastically reaches into his sweats and starts stroking his cock.

When he begins jerking off in earnest, that’s when the game becomes harder for you. When he pulls the waistband of his sweats down under his balls and gives you a perfect view of his hand fisting over his hardened length. The sight causes you to redouble your efforts, speeding up the rub of your fingers against your clit, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.

“Let me see,” he insists after a while. When you hesitate he huffs. “If I can’t touch it, let me at least look at your pussy, c’mon.”

His words are pathetic, but they move you enough to get you to shimmy down your little shorts, exposing you to the air and his scrutiny. His face lights up as if you’d given him the best Christmas present in the world and fresh slick soddens your cunt as you watch him start to stroke himself harder. Faster.

“So fuckin’ pretty, princess,” he grunts under his breath. In spite of yourself you find yourself getting even more worked up by his praise. He zeros in on the way your tongue pokes out of your mouth in the midst of your concentration. He nearly growls. “Put that tongue away before I come over and suck on it.”

You laugh at that.

“You’re staying on that side till you cum,” you say, defining the rules of the game for the first time. Eddie lurches back against the pillows as if you shot him.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

“Yeah, and you’re a horn dog. We both knew who we agreed to date,” you respond cheekily.

“I’m starting to regret that agreement,” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“What was that?” You arch an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head dismissively but you reach up and divest yourself of your top. His eyes go wide, as if he hasn’t seen your bare chest a million times before. You palm at a breast while bringing your other hand back down to play with yourself.

“No seriously. What was it you were saying you regret?” you ask, sinking two fingers into your heat and adding a breathier lilt to your voice. Eddie’s eyes widen, clearly unsure of what they want to watch more as they bounce between gazing at the activity of each of your hands. You let out a moan - truly turned on by his attention - and he grits his teeth.

“I said I’m starting to regret dating a fucking tease.”

Your laugh is completely condescending and it causes him to grip the base of his cock tightly.

“The door’s that way, Teddy.”

“Fucking Christ,” Eddie swallows thickly. He closes his fluttering eyelids for a second and sinks lower against the pillow and begins jerking his cock harder. “That’s a low blow, sweetheart.”

You only call him Teddy when you’re really far gone. Which isn’t exactly what’s happening here as you’re receiving pleasure from your own hand and tauntingly keeping him at arm’s length. There’s something about that nickname being used during this subverted power dynamic.

“Blowing low is my favorite and you know it,” you say, licking your lips and drawing his attention to your mouth. Your overly suggestive words make him groan. Pre-cum consistently pools at his leaky tip and it’s making you needier than you care to admit. You add a third finger in your pussy and the sound is obscene.

“So you’re really going to cum without letting me touch you, huh?” Eddie asks. You smile, though your eye lids are heavy as you get closer to your climax.

“Yeah I think so,” you reply with a playful shrug. Your eyes train on his cock, swollen and red and choked in his moving grip. You squeeze your breast and pick up the pace of your thumb on your clit. “I’m watching something better than porn, after all.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks.

“Oh yeah? You like the show?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” There is less condescension in your tone now. Your breathing is heavier and you ascend the peak you’ve been climbing all this time. Cockily, Eddie spreads his legs wider and brashly begins tugging his cock with long, slow, teasing strokes. You swallow harshly.

“You do know that the minute you cum, I’m gonna be on you right? Gonna fuck you so hard that smart mouth will go dumb.”

“Will you?” You ask, meaning to make it sound like a challenge, but as sweat coats your skin and your inner muscles start to clench it comes out more like a request.

Eddie definitely notices.

“Oh, I promise you, baby. When I’m done with you, the only thing you’re going to be able to say is my name.”

“Eddie…” you reply, trying to come up with a full admonishment because he’s trying to wrestle the power out of your hands and that wasn’t what you were going for.

“That’s a good start, princess. I expect there will be more drooling, but it’s a good start.”

You cum a few moments later, gasping his name and bucking your hips into your hand. And that’s all it takes for Eddie to lurch across the distance between you and shove himself inside. Despite your previously dismissive, teasing demeanor, you welcome him, closing your legs around his waist and clinging to him with everything you’ve got.

Eddie kisses you fiercely.

“Fuck you, making me wait, princess,” he grunts with absolutely no malice, lips sucking down your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of him pounding into you. A big difference in size between him and your fingers.

“You– oh fuck! You loved it,” you manage to get out.

“Damn right I did, you fucking minx. Always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” As he says it, he pushes yours, swirling a finger over your too sensitive clit. You convulse.

“Jesus, Eddie! ‘M sensitive…”

“No no no, you can take it, I know you can,” Eddie chuckles. He does slow his pace, however, looking down between you to watch the drag of his cock in and out of your cunt. He brings a hand to press down on your lower belly, feeling how deep he gets inside of you during an inward thrust. “Right here. Gonna cum right here, baby.”

“Please,” you whimper. A far cry from your previously cocky demeanor. Eddie loves that about you. That you can switch on a dime, just like him. It keeps things fun.

“Not showing me the door now, are you, baby?”

“Eddieeee…”

Eddie takes your hand then, the one you’d used to fuck your self. He brings it to his face and starts kissing each finger before sucking lasciviously on the center of your palm.

“This hand can’t do it like me. I know that’s true.”

With him filling you over and over again, you nod blindly, making him chuckle.

“Every time you touch yourself, I want you to remember that I know how you like it. Hard and fast and big. That’s what I can give you, right? Giving you what you need right now, huh minxy?”

You cry out when he lifts your hips, changing the angle and hitting a spot inside you that could could barely dream of reaching on your own.

You cum again three more times that night. And Eddie’s right - it does end with his name being the only thing in your mind.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed!

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: After lots of games it is finally time for meet Dexter in person

Part 4

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The last few days were hectic, to say the least, with Dexter’s constant crew of agents surrounding him it was hard to send him any more goodies without risking exposing my identity earlier than I intended. I wasn’t sure if they’d allow me to send him treats without thoroughly expecting anything I send so I held back. Things were also hectic due to the new developments in the Bay Harbor Butcher case but also a big lead on someone the fraud department had been trying to catch for months, meaning my team was split pretty thin throughout the building trying to help with major and minor technology errors. It was absolutely insane how many calls we got where it was usually a simple fix, I love my job but god some of my coworkers are idiots. I crossed my arms over my chest with a sigh as I walked down the hallway past the homicide department towards the elevator, I couldn’t help but peek through the glad walls, I was surprised to see that Dexter and his entourage were nowhere to be seen. Though I could see him and another guy hiding away in the back, my attention was drawn away as I heard a voice call out my name. To my surprise it was Debra, Dexter’s sister, I didn’t know her very well but we had started talking more frequently as she’s needed my help quite often as of late.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you up here in a while, how have you been?” She said with a smile tucking her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve been alright considering everything that’s going on, how are you? I heard you guys found the butcher.”

“I’m alright as well, I’m just glad we’re close to putting this guy behind bars. It fucking sucks he was one of us though, you just never know what a person is like behind closed doors yknow?” I nodded stiffly trying not to laugh at the irony.

“Yeah, yeah it’s awful. The world’s a really scary place, but uh can I ask what was the deal was with all those FBI agents and your brother?”

“Ugh don’t even get me started on that, they were his protective detail just in case the butcher came after him but he fucking called them off. I was actually headed to go give him a piece of my mind about that when I saw you.”

“Well, they did seem kind of suffocating..” She gave me a look and I raised my hands defensively, “Sorry not my place, I’ll let you talk to him then.”

“Thanks, I will but uh I was wondering if you would maybe want to grab some drinks later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not tonight, I probably won’t be done until very late. Maybe another time, first round on me?” She frowned but nodded, she patted my shoulder before storming off to see her brother.

It was great news to hear that Dexter’s constant security detail was gone but it also meant he was off to cause trouble tonight and I was going to figure out what. For now, since I have the chance I should probably send another note, I left the department and headed back to my office. I didn’t like the fact I was going to have to print it here but it would have to do for now, I didn’t want to wait too long and lose his interest and curiosity. Once I was back in my office I had to figure out what I was going to write, the other notes came easy but this one was harder to write. The big finale of our interaction was coming, the day we were set to meet in person, I was thankful I had scheduled it for a week or so after I sent the note as having him meet me with security detail would not have been fun. Now that I knew they were officially gone I could send another note confirming that I still wanted to meet him that Friday after not sending anything for nearly two weeks straight, I printed it out in my office and placed it in the bag with the double fudge brownies I had originally brought as a treat after lunch to instead give to Dexter. This time I would deliver it myself to spice things up. As I walked towards the elevator I wondered if he would try to kill me, that’s definitely something I had to consider. I know he kills murders but I don’t know the full extent of how he operates and if I’m safe from being tied down on one of his tables, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Of course that doesn’t mean I was going to meet him unarmed, I would take my own precautions. I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around making sure he was in his office and approached. I knocked on the door and held out the bag of brownies with the note as I smiled at him.

“Special delivery for Dexter Morgan.” I handed them to him and he offered them, I couldn’t help but notice the grin that briefly appeared on his face.

“Oh thank you, any chance you’re willing to tell me who this admirer is?” He asked as he set it down on his desk and looked away not expecting much.

“Sorry no can do, but I hear it won’t be long. Make sure to clear your calendar for Friday.”

I smirked and turned to make a quick exit when I saw the infamous Lila who Debra could not shut up about, she frowned and I knew she saw my interaction with Dexter and I could only imagine what she was thinking but it couldn’t be good. Before I could do anything she said goodbye to the detective she was talking to and hurried out the room towards the elevator. I sighed knowing that there was no way that this could end well, I left the department with a glance back at Dexter. It wasn’t a surprise that our eyes met again, I just smiled and disappeared out the door.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter read the note as he savored the brownie, it was delicious as always but his mind drifted to the brief conversation with a particular someone who he’d been seeing more frequently around the office. Most would say it was a coincidence but Dexter had stopped believing in those long ago with the job he had, they had to be the secret admirer or very closely involved with them. It didn’t make sense though, how could someone so normal and friendly be like him, he simply refused to believe it. From the most recent note it appears he’ll have an answer soon enough, they reiterated their intentions to meet at the beach beside Coral Cove Marina tomorrow afternoon. It was unsettling how much they knew about him and Dexter wondered if he would have to kill them, his number one rule was to not get caught and it’s not like they were innocent. But if he was interpreting the notes correctly they were likely about as innocent as he was, it was conflicting and killing them would make him the biggest hypocrite. Harry’s code has never prepared him for a situation like this. What right would he have to kill them if they worked under a similar code of conduct as he did? If what he did was just how could he persecute you for the exact thing he would be doing to you?

Rather than fretting over the ethical conundrum of his secret admirer, Dexter had other matters that needed his attention like whether or not he would have to kill this ‘Harlow’ person, after searching up his phone number it wasn’t hard to find his full name. Dexter put Christopher Harlow into the department's database, a known alias for one Jose Garza who had committed various crimes but none of which involved murder. Dexter didn’t need to kill him as long as he didn’t know where the cabin was, so he sent a quick text inviting him there to get his ‘snow’. Dexter didn’t wait long for a response and was relieved to hear that he had no clue, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and stood up. He needed to have a quick chat with Debra but more importantly, he needed more answers from Doakes. What he said had stuck with him, was Harry truly not who he said he was?

★ ✮ ★

Of course, I followed Dexter after he left work, I knew better than anyone he didn’t ditch his security detail just to lay around at home and watch tv porn. My suspicions were confirmed when he didn’t take the usual right at the light toward his apartment, I drove far behind keeping a safe distance between us to avoid being caught. Which grew harder to do as he ventured into the more rural part of Maimi, eventually he turned down a long dirt road. I watched as he took one more turn and eventually turned off his car, as I crept slowly towards the turn I could see up ahead was a very remote cabin. Now that I know where it was I could come back later to see what exactly he was doing here, for now, I had more important things to tend to like Franklin Graney.

The thirty-eight-year-old phone technician who not only kills people but violates them alive and dead, he’d just finished checking in after his last job for the day and was about to head home. He made his way to his truck but before he could even unlock it I came up behind him and used my wire garrote to strangle him, I forced him to kneel on the ground and pushed him away from me so he couldn’t reach back to scratch me. It only took a few minutes for him to pass out, I let his body haphazardly fall onto the concrete. I left him there and pulled my car up beside his, then I dragged him into my backseat. I got into the front and sighed, I peeked back at him through my rearview mirror with a frown but resolved myself to finish the job. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to paradise.

Paradise was in the basement of an abandoned hospital, specifically an abandoned hospital with a morgue built into its basement which was equipped with everything I needed. Of course, I had to rig a few things to work the way I needed them to and clean things very deeply, it was awful in here when I first found it. Now it looked quite nice and I had even decorated it to my liking, and I had taken several measures so that any wanna-be urban explorers wouldn’t be able to get down here even if they tried. It was truly perfect. I turned on my music and got to work dismembering and draining the blood to save for later.

It was nearly midnight when I finished, cleanup was messier than usual today but I got what I needed. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring any of the meat or blood I harvested home because Debra was, unfortunately, spending the night, after we went drinking the last time she confided in me about her relationship with Lundy and apparently took that as us being friends now. I wasn’t a big fan of Debra but if I was going to pursue Dexter I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to befriend her, so even if it was unconventional to have her over I was prepared for this. It took a lot of reading, trial, and error but I had successfully managed to rig this floor to a generator which allowed me to use the mortuary fridge. I slid out one of the chambers originally used to store bodies and set the coolers containing the meat and blood onto it, then I slid it back in and shut the door. All I had to do now was take what was left of the body and incinerate it, I chose this hospital specifically because of its incinerator. I could start and finish my disposal of the corpse in one place and didn’t have to bother traveling around to complete the job it was wonderful, I placed the remnants on a cadaver stretcher and wheeled them into the other room. I opened the incinerator door and pulled out the long tray that slides inside, I transferred everything onto it and slid it back in. Then after pressing a button and pulling the lever, the incinerator roared to life, thankfully it was advanced enough to shut off on its own. I just had to come back for the bones another day, I walked back into the main room and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out. I needed to get as much sleep as I could considering what I had planned for tomorrow.

I quietly shut my front door behind me as I slipped off my shoes, of course, Deb had just tossed hers over here haphazardly. I bent over and neatly put them to the side like mine, as I stood back up I was surprised when a light turned on behind me. Debra was sitting up on the couch still awake, I completely forgot that she was still struggling to fall asleep when she was on her own. I smiled over at her and approached.

“You really were out super late.”

“Yeah, I really needed to blow off some steam then I ended up driving around not realizing how late it had gotten.” She nodded but still looked at me a bit odd.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re back safe. I was starting to think something bad happened to you.” I gave her a spin and smiled.

“Well as you can see I’m A-okay, but I desperately need a shower and to sleep for at least a decade.” I walked past her towards my bedroom, “ Good night Deb oh and I probably won’t be at work tomorrow by the way.” I said before shutting the door behind me, I desperately needed to sleep in and prepare for my meeting with Dexter tomorrow.

I tossed my bag off to the side of my bedroom and started to undress, I grabbed my towel and got into the shower. The water was warm and poured down my back it was like a really wet and warm hug. I reveled in it as I wrapped my arms around myself, killing people wasn’t something I had ever come around to enjoying and wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life. I had my life fucked from the beginning by people even more fucked up than I had become, so now I kill people so that I could cannibalize them. What a twisted life I was living, everyone I knew would be mortified to learn about what I do or the kinds of things I eat. Though if things continued the way they were nobody ever would, I finished showering and stepped out. The bathroom was warm and foggy from all the steam from my shower, I wrapped my towel around me before wiping away the steam on the mirror. I stared at my reflection briefly and a bloody monster stared back at me, I turned away and quickly left the bathroom. I just needed to go to bed rather than dwelling on things I couldn’t change as it wasn’t doing me any good.

Friday morning came faster than I anticipated but I made sure to call out yesterday so I slept in until ten, though it was hard to stay asleep when I had exciting plans for today. I got dressed and practically ran out the door, thankfully Deb had already left. I got into my car, I still had some time before it was noon so I decided to check out Dexter’s cabin in the woods before meeting him at the beach. I struggled a bit to remember where I was going but the closer I got the easier it was to remember, and eventually, I made it. Thankfully it seemed Dexter wasn’t here right now, I got out of the car and my clothes flowed slightly in the breeze. I nervously approached the cabin, it was old and looked damn near run down. I opened the door and was instantly met with a foul but familiar stench, I winced but stepped inside despite it and was surprised to see Sergeant Doakes locked behind a cage.

“Thank you, god, please you have to get me out of here.” He said with a relieved sigh as he stood up.

“What-what happened to you? Why are you locked up here?” I asked mostly to myself as I approached the cage resting my hand against the bars.

“It’s that freak, Dexter Morgan, he’s the Bay Harbor Butcher and he locked me in here. You have to get me out, the keys are over there.”

I frowned and I genuinely felt bad, to be honest, I liked Doakes and respected him as an officer but I couldn’t let him expose Dexter when I still had business with him. I thought for a moment debating what I should do, I didn’t want to leave him here as realistically Doakes hadn’t done anything wrong besides getting too close to the truth. Which was probably why Dexter hadn’t killed him already. It was his problem to deal with and I really shouldn’t get involved, I turned around and bolted out of the cabin despite his cries for help. I felt sick to my stomach, just leaving him there but what was I supposed to do? I had finally found someone somewhat like me, how could I throw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? I quickly turned my car around and drove as fast as I could back to the main road, I decided to head to the beach even though there was still time before noon. I could hang out there and wait for Dexter to arrive but also spend some time clearing my head.

★ ✮ ★

After an enlightening but also earth-shattering conversation with Captain Matthew Dexter was lost, despite that he still arrived at the beach on time to finally find out who this secret admirer was. He stood far away from the shore in the shade with his hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance where the ocean stretched out for miles farther than he could see but he also observed the various people littered across the beach. So when someone approached him from his left he turned to see who it was, and his suspicions were confirmed though it left him with far more questions than answers. She smiled at him but seemed apprehensive and kept a safe but reasonable distance.

“See we finally met huh? I’m sure you’re already working out how to get rid of me in your head which I wouldn’t recommend unless you want everyone at the office to know it was you. I’m just here to talk, now can we do that or are you going to take care of me like you did Roger?” Despite her body language showing how anxious from her eyes Dexter could see she wasn’t afraid.

“I have to admit I’m impressed by how bold you are, but you know me well. I won’t kill you for now just don’t give me a reason to.” He said narrowing his eyes slightly for a moment daring her to try something, “Why have you been sending me these gifts, what is it that you want from me?”

“That’s a great question, honestly at first I was just messing with you but then I grew curious once I found out you were the infamous Bay Harbor butcher. We operate in similar ways and I was a bit envious of how neatly you worked, at some point I started to look up to you and maybe even develop a crush.” She admitted turning away and walking further towards the beach, “It’s not every day you meet a serial killer especially one with morals. I figured we could be friends or something.” She said with a laugh as Dexter followed slowly behind her as they walked along the beach.

It was weird for Dexter to hear the words ‘serial killer’ fall so casually from her lips as she laughed like it was the most innocent thing in the world. Dexter’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and complex thoughts, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they asked to meet him here. But he definitely wasn’t expecting a genuine love confession, sure they had been sending him notes under the guise of a secret admirer but he assumed it was just an excuse. Not to mention he was still conflicted as you did have morals on killing like he did so it’s not like he could justifiably kill you, this entire situation was baffling. Dexter couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her though, despite being weary she still carried herself with a confidence and aliveness that he didn’t have. He couldn’t wrap himself around how she could when they were the same, what did she have that he didn’t?

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it? I’m sure this is kind of a lot.” She said with an awkward laugh, Dexter wondered if she could read his mind.

“I just never imagined I would find someone like-minded, but you want to be friends? How do I know you won’t just betray me?”

“Uhh I don’t know…” She paused thinking for a moment weighing her options in her head, “I could give you the location to my kill room? Then you could give me something more concrete about, uh let’s call it our hobby, then we’ll be even. Is that good enough for you?” Dexter thought for a moment, he hesitated but he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t desperate for a connection much like this one.

“Sharing our vulnerabilities would be enough for me to consider this friendship, I keep my tools in a secret compartment in a chest in my apartment.” Dexter frowned as soon as the words came out his mouth, why did he tell her that, he could be risking his entire well-being just for some woman. But after everything going on with Rita and Lila, he needed someone more like-minded and rational.

“Oh so that’s what was in that trunk, I knew it was suspicious. Well, there’s this abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town that closed a little over a decade ago, in the basement is where I keep everything and do my work. There now we both have a safeguard in case of the other.”

“Yes, mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly, but now for the other reason I invited you here. I do want to actually get to know you as a person Dexter, so how do you feel about treating this as an actual date?” She extended her hand out to him offering to hold hands.

Dexter mused for a moment with an unreadable expression as he stared down at her hand, “An actual date doesn’t sound bad. That’s fine with me.” He laced his fingers between her and she smiled.

“Perfect, I should probably start by introducing myself.” She told Dexter her name and he remembered Debra mentioning her once or twice, “Anyway do you know why I chose this beach?” She asked.

Dexter nodded and listened quietly as the woman went into a long speech about why she had chosen this beach besides its connections to Dexter. They walked along the shore as she did hand in hand with the sun shining down on them from high in the sky, from afar they appeared to be a normal-looking couple on a normal date. Dexter still wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he was at least enjoying the company as she made for a decent conversationalist. Not to mention he didn’t have to sugarcoat what he said because of a certain hobby of his because she understood, it was refreshing for him. Intoxicating even, his grip on her hand tightened slightly as he stared forward listening carefully to her words.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up walking along the shore talking for several long hours, well I did most of the talking as Dexter wasn’t exactly the chatty type which was fine. He still responded and was actively listening to what I said and occasionally when the topic broached something he was passionate about then he became chatty, but just as quickly he’d go quiet as if he was afraid to be passionate about anything. It was odd but I decided not to comment on it, as it was still the first date and I would have plenty of time to learn about him. Especially about the way he operated, and at some point our conversation drifted that way. I had seen his neatness in person, and I complimented him on how amazing it was that he never left a crime scene. He was very interested in how I disposed of my bodies though, I kept it vague and only talked about the incinerator. It was too early to talk about my cannibalism, I’m sure that’d scare him off faster than I could say, cannibal.

Eventually, the conversation strayed away from our extracurricular activities, we talked about our masks and he was curious how I hid who I really was so well, we talked about family, our normal pass times, and at some point the meaning of life. It was nice being able to let go like this, not having to hide what I do because someone wouldn’t understand. It was like I was breathing for the first time, and from the relaxed smile on Dexter’s face, I could tell he felt the same. I glanced past him and could see the sun setting over the horizon, it was a beautiful sight and the sun illuminated Dexter with a warm glow.

“This is so nice, I feel like I just let a huge weight off my chest. Not to mention the sunset is amazing, it’s so beautiful.” I said walking towards it as Dexter followed closely behind me as our hands were still linked.

“Yeah, admittedly this is kind of nice. I almost feel alive.” He said staring out at the sun with his hand on his heart.

“News flash buddy, you always were alive. You’ve been living every moment, I think you just can’t see it.” He glanced at me but didn’t respond so I changed the topic, “So does this mean I get a second date? I think this went too well to end with one.”

“Yeah, I think a second date would be quite nice.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[hhughes]

Need Jack and Nico trying to convince her

“c’mon vi, don’t you wanna see your favourite devil in action?” nico asks with a grin, knowing jack and luke were gonna protest that statement

“okay, captain dimples, relax. we all know im her favourite devs player. right vi?” jack cuts in shoving nico lightly from their position on the couch as he leans closer to the computer screen

“sure jacky, you’re my favourite,” violet admits, looking at luke and sending him an exaggerated wink, causing the taller boy to smile slightly. god he missed her. even though he saw her at the detroit game only a few days ago.

he couldn’t describe to anyone what it was like, going from being with her 24/7 to seeing her maybe once a month, if he’s lucky. jack calls them out all the time for being “codependent” or wherever but if jack ever met a girl he wanted to spend more than one night with, he’d understand luke’s frustration.

even then, he’s not really sure jack would understand the extent of how much luke was missing her. they’ve known each other practically their entire lives and haven’t gone without seeing each other for more than three weeks max since grade 9. long distance fucking sucked, and he definitely wasn’t built for it. but he didn’t even feel like he could tell her that, because violet was a pro at just about anything she set her mind to, long distance included.

their phone calls were always filled with everything she’s been up to from classes, to dance, to coaching dance, to the big win the guys pulled off against ohio and the party afterwards. if she didn’t tell him that she missed him about 20 times during the call, he wouldn’t be able to tell that she does, probably because she’s so busy and she doesn’t even realize how much time passes before they see each other again. but luke’s busy too, and it still feels like forever for him.

sometimes it felt like she had this whole other life in michigan that he just wasn’t apart of anymore and you would think since this is their second year of long distance they would be at least a little used to it by now, but luke still gets chest pains just thinking about it.

“look guys I gotta go. I honestly don’t think I can swing it but I’ll think about it okay. just don’t get your hopes up,” violet says and all three guys nod

“even if you can’t swing the vancouver game, come to one of the home games soon then. s’a lot closer than van. i’ll fly you in myself, miss you,” jack mumbles, and violet smiles at him. her and jack had grown closer this past summer (if that was even possible) and she had missed him almost as much as her boyfriend these last few weeks.

“miss you too jacky,” violet replies and luke leans forward, reaching to grab the laptop and perching it on his lap so only he’s in the camera, despite the other two guys still sitting next to him

“okay baby. i’ll talk to you soon yeah? probably wednesday when we’re with quinn. i’m sure he’d love to say hi. i love you, get some rest,” luke says, heart squeezing when violet leans forward and kisses the camera

“miss you so much lu. and I love you so so much. i’ll text you tonight okay?” she greets, ending the call when luke nods in response.

“man I don’t know if I liked it more when you guys were oblivious to how in love you were or now that you’re so obvious about it,” jack states, fake gagging and their captain lets out a chuckle

“what was the story of you guys in high school and college anyway? i’ve heard a lot of things. . .” nico says and luke frowns at him

“heard a lot of things from who?” he asks, wondering whose been going around taking about his relationship.

“sheamo mostly. some of the guys have been asking him what you were like in college,” nico says and luke shrugs

“not much to tell really. we’re childhood friends, caught feelings, got together,” luke says and jack scoffs

“sure. you’re missing the 5 or 6 years where you guys were silently pining for one another just because you wouldn’t admit you had feelings,” jack says and luke sighs, rolling his eyes at his brother and getting up from the couch as jack begins to tell nico all the details he knows, not in the mood to stroll down memory lane on how long it took him and vi to pull their heads out of their asses.

“swear hockey players gossip more than the old ladies at grandmas weekly book club,” luke mutters, making his way to his room, planning to look at the calendar and arrange a time to fly his girl out.

[villainintern]

🕱🕱 At UNDERHAND INCORPORATED, the world's leading supervillain corporate conglomerate, networking opportunities are many. Recruit henchmen, make enemies, forge tenuous friendships, and always be sure to collect blackmail. Just in case. ____________________________________________________

YOUR FELLOW INTERNS:

PETER HYDE interns for human resources, although he might not be totally human. Your cubicle neighbor is a geeky slack-off who (unlike you) doesn't really want to work here, but for some reason he's unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

Appearance: Pale skin, black hair that always escapes his gel, earnest brown eyes rimmed with the harrowed look of someone who stares at screens all day. 6'5" but embarrassed about being tall, so he leans on stuff and slouches in chairs. Usually wearing cheap office attire and a novelty tie.

🫀Likes: Cozy furnished basements. Free flash computer games. Taking on a whole rotisserie chicken solo. 🚫Dislikes: Working overtime. Falling behind on payments. The bottomless, gnawing hunger.

"Tropes": Codependent coworkers, boss-henchman. Genuine friends somehow? More?

REID/RENEY SULLIVAN (gender selectable) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. An interning hero (at the rival hero company) with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

Appearance: Black skin and hair, styled into many twists that fall at different lengths around their face. Lithe, stringy runner's build. Expressive brown eyes, a wide, endearingly uneven smile.

🫀Likes: Doing good in the world. Veggie pizza. Playing smash bros with siblings. Maybe you, despite all their better instincts. 🚫Dislikes: You. The level of control their employer exerts over them. Skinny jeans.

"Tropes": Enemies to worse. Reluctant allies, bantering. Intimately charged hand-to-hand combat. Suddenly realizing your sworn nemesis is the most important and constant figure in your life.

T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine, now interning with UnderHand's tech support department. Once a military member conscripted to the company's private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

Appearance: T9's new mechanical body is imposing but graceful, seven feet of smooth interlocking steel. Its "face" is a rounded plate of dark glass. Small tubes connect to the back of its neck, carrying fluid to the brain through its artificial spine.

🫀Likes: The beautiful, almost organic curves of highway overpasses. 🚫Dislikes: Being unable to eat. It misses carbs.

"Tropes": Big huge strong shiny robot.

ELAINE FOSTER is an up-and-coming mad scientist interning as an assistant in the tech support laboratories. Although a genius prodigy, Foster otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors- as a result, she's become fixated on getting that elusive promotion. Exacting, calculating, and a little maniacal, Foster doesn't dole out her respect easily. But if she sees you making smart moves, you'll find her a very competent collaborator.

Appearance: Pale skin and frizzy, near-white blonde hair. Sharp, elegant, shrewd face. Grey eyes behind narrow cherry red cat-eye glasses. She usually wears her lab gear: the signature high collared white coat, black vinyl boots and gloves.

🫀Likes: A strong cup of green tea. A well-tailored pair of dress pants. Mugler, her pet lab rat. 🚫Dislikes: Temperatures above 68 degrees. Willful imbeciles. Being condescended to.

"Tropes": Icy exterior, rivals, lab partners in crime, the chemistry that comes from bonding over your obsessive shared career passions.

BLINK is technically unemployed, a rogue villain or vigilante, depending on who you ask. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, Blink is an invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight- a walking contradiction. Their motives are as obscure as their identity, but they sure seem to interfere with your missions a lot. Are they sabotaging your goals, or do theirs align? Do they just like following you around? ...are they following you right now? You're pretty sure you're alone. The hallway is dead silent. And yet...

Appearance: There's no way to know. Even when they're visible, Blink is covered head to toe in tactical gear, and they seem very cautious about keeping their face concealed. It's almost like they have something to hide from you, personally.

🫀Likes: Assassinating crooked politicians. Steel-toe boots. Invisibly entering people's houses just to see what it's like in there. 🚫Dislikes: Motion sensing doors.

"Tropes": Secret identity, watching you through their sniper scope and kicking their feet around like a schoolgirl.

[dr-spectre]

Guys, i wanna preach something to y'all.

If you really love a character and if they are really important to you, but you feel like a large majority of fans treat them poorly and they mischaracterise them. Don't be scared to talk about it.

PLEASE!

This is not even focused on Splatoon, no, this is just in general. If you genuinely love a character so much and they are treated in a way where you feel like it doesn't represent the character's true personality, events, arcs, etc, then speak up about it. Make a post on any social media platform or forum. Speak your peace, share your evidence, do what you can to say "hey guys. I think you should all take a second look at this character i really like! They have some cool stuff about them that not a lot of people talk about!"

I think a really great example of a character who's been really mischaracterised is Deadpool. In the comics he's a sad clown sort of guy where he hides his pain, suicidality and depression behind jokes and 4th wall breaks. He's a bad dude who tries his hardest to be a good person, but he fails over and over again and he doesn't believe he can ever be loved or respected. He's funny but he also has depth and layers which is so important to create an everlasting character. Or at least that's what I've heard he's like from comic fans. I haven't read the comics but i plan on to some day because I'm fascinated by his depth and i wanna experience that.

However in his first major solo appearance, which was the game, he was treated as only a loud mouth jokester who sees every woman he comes across as "awooga! boobies and ass!!!!" and all the depth and nuance is gone. Even though they had a comic writer who worked on Deadpool comics for years, he didn't fucking ATTEMPT to give the character any form of intrigue. Just... nothing. Only memes and pop culture references that'll become dated in 5 years.

And a lot of people think that's just who Deadpool is... That's how so many people got introduced to this character which caused misinformation to spread about him for so long... And that fucking sucks dude.

Thankfully the movies have some form of an emotional center with Wade and Vanessa's relationship and they give the character... SOMETHING!!!!! At least the comic fans seem to be pretty okay with movie Deadpool from my knowledge, which is good.

ANYWAYS! BACK TO SPLATOON!

Do you guys remember when Pearl and Marina used to be treated like this? Pearl as some big forehead joke of a character, while Marina was some bimbo with huge honkers and a giant waist.

Oh yeah, this was how they were treated for years. I remember it man, i fucking remember it all. I was there. Sorry to tell the new fans who joined from Splatoon 3. Even after Octo Expansion gave them detailed backstories and further explored their personalities, they were still mischaracterised as flanderised jokes and nothing more in the community.

But after people took the time to get to know these two, after people spent 7 years with them and discussed the interesting things about them online, they are now portrayed significantly better than how they used to be treated in the community and are celebrated as some of the best characters in the franchise. As they fucking deserve to be treated. Fans don't treat them as jokes anymore, casuals don't make tired old jokes anymore. Everyone loves these two now and for the right reasons.

And all it took was a small section of people to praise their best attributes and eventually overshadow the misinformation about them. Pearl is celebrated because she is genuinely a great character with a heart of gold and a want to care for the people around her. To make every day chaotic and to have fun with her CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND!

Marina is celebrated as a character who autistic people can look up to and find comfort in. AND THAT IS FUCKING AWESOME!!! AND IT ALMOST NEVER HAPPENED! If no one bothered to look deeper at her character then maybe many peoples lives could have never been changed for the better... Isn't that crazy to think about?

If you can change one person's perspective on a character you love, and they feel that energy and they wanna help you share that energy with more people, then i think you've done something truly amazing. Eventually that shit is gonna spread further and further AND FURTHER!!!!!!

Remember when Shiver and Frye were treated as jokes similar to Pearl and Marina at the start of Splatoon 3? Frye with her big forehead jokes and people calling her ugly due to... well... i'm gonna make some wild accusations here but... there might be an undertone of racism when people call Frye ugly... like... i'm just saying... I'm scared of what these people think about Indian women in the real world... What views they share about them... Frye is inspired by Indian culture and by proxy, Indian women. I'm just saying...

And, of course, fans gooning over Shiver because god forbid a woman exposes her midriff and has curvy hips... ugh...

BUT THANKFULLY IT'S CHANGED NOW! Lots of people see Shiver as a silly yet fun character who has the potential for depth down the line, which people are excited to see. People adore Frye and love her personality and her family.

There are people out there who say that Frye is actually cute and beautiful, AND YOU KNOW WHAT!?? I FUCKING AGREE! If people didn't share their love and takes on Frye then maybe she wouldn't become my favourite Deep Cut member.

Now... To tie it all back to me, I'm seeing this change in perspective for a character.... with Callie Cuttlefish.

During the years 2017 to 2022, Callie was always mischaracterised as some airheaded idiot who ended up getting herself "kidnapped" and "brainwashed" and had to be saved as she was some stupid helpless victim. This was seen in official material and fan comics too. I remember it man, i really do. Hell it STILL happens till this day. That fucking summer 2024 Nintendo magazine? Jesus christ dude...

But now? That perspective is changing... Sure not everyone is gonna fully agree and there probably isn't gonna be massive change in official media, social media such as YouTube and twitter, and of course wikis. Not everyone is gonna know about what Callie is truly like and what she has truly gone through. But....

That's okay.

I really don't wanna come across as some sort of gatekeeping fan, i really hate those kinds of """fans""" so much. I just wanna educate and share my love for a comfort character of mine. Eventually the perspective shared by me and others will be spread to other social media platforms and many more people. Because that's how the internet works baby!!!!

The perspective that Callie was just a girl suffering from fame and loneliness, a girl who wanted an escape from it all, a girl who went under hypnosis to numb her pain and stay in the corruptive darkness she built up for so long, a girl who wanted to help her enemies rather than stay in her current life with a cousin who isn't there for her anymore... A girl who didn't need to be saved, but a girl who needed to be reminded of the good memories she had with her cousin, to remember what she truly stood for and the love she wants to share with everyone via music... A girl who just needed... a fresh start....

She was never kidnapped despite what official sources say... She was never brainwashed despite what they tell you... Callie had agency... Callie was suffering... Just in a more nuanced and fascinating way.

that perspective... is spreading and... I'm so happy about it...

Anyways, that's all i have for you guys. Please share your love for a character with others, share your unique perspectives to the world, you have a voice, USE IT! I DON'T CARE IF IT'LL REACH TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE! ONE THOUSAND! A HUNDRED! ONE PERSON! DON'T FUCKING MATTER!

USE YOUR VOICE! PLEASEEEE!!!!!!!!

[pressplay-if]

F*ck yes i loved that new update, loved basically everything about it, especially how the characters throw in how the mc is percieved....i love it.

I have to things i wanna say tho, nothing bad promise :) I get some things that are set with the mc, but there are some things that just kinda bother me(subjectively speaking here of course)

1: But why does mc not have a drivers license for instance, i get that poor mc would maybe not have had the funds for it, but a rich one had, and i imagine that the parents would have insisted they do one so that they can drive to important meetings to get a real job etc. yk what i mean?

2: So mc can only do vocals and sucks at everything else...feels kinda like mc is suuuper useless, like a magicarp that couldn't even perform splash, or a bird without wings etc. like i get that mc is more focused on singing and vocals but i would say that it would only make sense that mc can at least play one instrument(like many real artists/musicians do) so that when they are stuck in a loop maybe they can distract themself or smth yk to get back on the grind etc.?

Also wouldn't this mean, that if mc got sick and maybe lost their voice for a time or completely they would be even more useless....like a stone that wants to fly. And i don't mean to be rude here or something cause i genuinely like this game and the characters, but mc feels soo limited yk, and i know we still have only seen a little about mc but i would say that we should at least have one more hobby or smth.

Of course this is only my subjective opinion and please don't feel pressured to change anything, cause this is your story and you can do whatever you want with it, i just thought that i could give my two cents to it. Anyways have a good day and stay hydrated.

Heyooo ok so you really picked apart the MC lol but I totally laughed at how you described that 😂 a stone trying to fly

MC can actually drive, they just don't own a vehicle. That's because I wanna make a whole big thing about them getting their first own car/motorbike once the cash comes in you know 💖 also, it creates some nice little scenes like the cuddling Angel-option. But don't worry, MC can drive and will drive

MC doesn't like "suck" at everything else. They can play a little rhythm guitar and also they write most of the band's songs, so they're far from useless, even though they may not play another instrument (at the moment; I think I'm gonna add that option). So they're integral to the band, because even when it's Stevie writing the songs, she only ever writes for the MC. MC is very distinctive. It's interesting that you bring up MC losing their voice though bc that may or may not be a plot point later on. MC not really having another hobby is also kind of intentional. They will shift and change, but at this stage, you're playing as a very obsessed little creature. Their only real hobby besides singing rn is collecting vinyls. So I totally get what you're saying and I understand MC feels limited, but rn, that's kind of just how they are. Things may change. Others may not. Chapter 2 will give a lot more insight on MC, and a bunch more choices for y'all to make about them.

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 

Word Count - 1751

Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 

As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 

“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 

“You made these?” 

“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 

“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 

“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 

“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 

“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 

The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 

Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 

“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 

“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.

She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 

“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 

“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 

“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.

“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 

“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 

She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 

The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 

“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 

Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 

“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 

“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 

She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 

“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 

She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 

“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.

[writerscall]

how can i be dead to you when we’re looking at the same moon?

part two to this. the moment of truth between you and hazel holds more than one big reveal.

author’s note/s: 1.1k words. angst, hurt and no comfort for now. i apologize in advance for the ending of this chapter.

Surprisingly, it isn’t very hard to make sure you don’t spend too much time around Hazel until you felt ready to fall back into your old closeness. You were roommates, but your schedules clashed greatly — blessing in disguise? — and the only free times you had together was late afternoon to dinner, which you usually decided to spend anywhere but your room. It was just too weird. She was so ready for a blank slate and you just… weren’t. There was still a mix of guilt and disappointment and bitterness from high school, and immature as it was to not just let it go like Hazel seemed to have done, you didn’t know what to do with it.

You didn’t know what to do with her. It wasn’t fair to her back then and it wasn’t fair to her now, but how could you tell her?

You don’t. You can’t. Not without the bigger possibility of truly ruining everything between the two of you now.

Unlike yourself, however, Hazel was on a mission to get things back to the way they were before that football game. “Oh, hey! I’m so glad I caught you before you left for the library,” she says as she closes the door behind her, smiling at you even though she looked exhausted.

You wanna ask her about how that last class on her schedule was going cause she mentioned that was gonna be a loaded one, but you stop yourself.

“I was just about to leave actually—”

“Do you wanna go get take-out for dinner?”

Both of you just stare at each other for a second after speaking at the same time. Then she shakes her head and chuckles, saying, “I found this amazing Chinese place nearby. Might even say they’re a little better than that old resto we used to go to back home. Their shrimp dumplings are to die for and I know you like those, so…”

“Um,” you start, the ache already building in your chest because you know you're about to see yet another drop in her expression at what you’re about to say. “Maybe another time. I really have to get started on this reviewer for my test. Sorry, Hazel.”

You shoot her an apologetic look as you pick up your bag, but instead of the usual resigned nod and mumbled ‘alright sure, happy studying’ response that you get, you see her hands ball into fists at her sides before hearing a frustrated, “Why do you keep blowing me off?”

She’s angry and rightfully so. “You said that whatever happened back in high school doesn’t matter but it mattered— it matters to me and I don’t even fucking know what it was that made you treat me like… like I did something to make you hate me.”

Her voice cracks as she says ‘hated,’ and you take the smallest step forward but she keeps going. “And obviously it still matters to you too because you’re not acting like it doesn’t. You don’t wanna hang out, you’re barely in our shared room, you send me the most uninterested-sounding replies with every message, I,” she sighs, tilting her head at you. “Could you at least tell me what I did wrong before you go study for that test that may or may not exist?”

Moment of truth. You knew it was gonna come sooner or later and that you would never feel prepared either way. You just hoped that whatever came after wouldn’t totally suck.

“That football game… you know, the one where you guys beat up the Huntington players?”

She nods. You can feel your throat start to close up. “You and PJ kissed,” you tell her plainly with a shrug. Your eyes flit to hers once before looking elsewhere; you can’t look right at her with your next words. “And I… I had this silly little crush on you so I took it personally as some sort of sign that I should finally get over it. Over you.”

To no avail, you add silently in your head. The silence stretches between the two of you for what seems like a whole thirty seconds that you’re almost sure she’s about to either shout at you or walk out.

Then, in a soft voice that catches you by surprise (she was supposed to be mad, wasn’t she?), Hazel says, “I’ve liked you since the day we met in fifth grade, I— it crushed me when you just shut me out halfway through senior year. How could you do that? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Well, this wasn’t how you were expecting the conversation to go.

Feeling defensive because you could ask her that same second question, you finally look at her, but she cuts you off. “Do you even know of any of the stupid things I did to get your attention after that? Even to just get you to look at me? I tried joining the clubs you joined but of course I wasn’t qualified, I waited in the hall by your locker almost everyday to try and talk to you— god, I even went to some of those stupid baseball games to see you even if I had to watch you cheer for your stupid boyfriend. And that one really hurt to sit through.”

“Hazel—”

“I feel like I turned myself inside out liking you and trying to figure out why we suddenly weren’t in each other’s lives anymore. But all this time it was because you liked me and… and what, you didn’t think I liked you back?”

The room is silent again as you just stare at each other for a moment. There was so much to say. Of course you knew she tried out for your clubs because you had a hand in not letting her in any of them. Of course you noticed her lingering nearby whenever you had to get something from your locker during breaks. Of course you saw her at those games; having to act like you were really into the sport and your boyfriend was hard for you, too.

But all that comes out is, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry, Hazel. For all of it.”

Her face crumples and you just can’t be there, so you start walking towards the door. Hazel blocks it just as you reach for the knob.

“Please let me go.”

“I can’t,” she whispers. “I just got you back.”

She’s close, closer than you think she’s ever physically been in all your years of friendship. Close enough that you could close the gap if it was a more appropriate time.

Hazel seems to think it is, because barely a second passes after she eyes your lips that she kisses you.

[a-grayscale]

Okay hear me out on this one, you know how during your run ins with the bishops during Crusades and such during the game they all seem relatively okay despite their injuries? (Relatively as in they’re definitely not actually okay, but they can still function just fine) Is it just me, or is that relative okayness most definitely because the crowns helped hold them together?

Like, the most obvious example of this I can think of would be Heket being able to speak during our encounters with her despite not having her throat. I feel like it’s pretty obviously the case there, right? The crown is allowing her to speak through it. I think that the other crowns allowed the bishops to function with their injuries by sorta holding them all together in godhood, yeah? We on the same page there?

Okay, hear me out. Narinder has serious, possibly chronic pain in his arms and probably also legs.

I mean, the guy was chained in place for a thousand years, there’s no way that’s not painful. More on that, considering we don’t know exactly HOW MUCH leeway those chains had(it’s obviously not a lot, but we don’t know if there was any at all or if it was one or two possible positions ever for 1000 years) there’s a good chance his bones and muscles and the ligaments and everything weakened over time to the point of being really fragile and brittle. We don’t know if he always had skeletal arms, maybe that was a symptom?

What does this have to do with the crowns holding the bishops injuries together? Well, what if the reason he didn’t move a whole lot during the boss battle was because he didn’t have his crown and thus, was in a lot of pain? I mean, we’ve all seen the boss battle, the dude hits hard but it’s almost always with chains or fire, or summoning enemies while he floats around. What if that’s because he hurt too much to move any more?

I think that’d add a really interesting dynamic between him and his desire for the crown, as well as his dynamic with the cult as a whole. A big reason he might want the crown back is because it helped dull the pain it’s bearer felt, just as the other crowns did to keep their respective bearers from falling apart.

I think it’d affect his dynamic and relationships within the cult because, like the other bishops post indoctrination, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a magic crown that helped with the pain. I’m not too familiar with chronic pain, but from what I’ve heard and seen and been told, it fucking sucks. I can’t imagine Narinder’s being any less sucky, at least not for a long long LOOOONG time. And when I say long time, I mean LOOONG TIME.

I think it’d also affect his relationships with say, the other bishops for example. Not to say that everything about them isn’t an absolute MESS already, cause it absolutely is, but I think they’d all feel at least a little guilty about the injuries they caused each other, even if they don’t admit it aloud. I mean, I’m no emotional undertones expert, but some of the dialogue leads me to believe they still at least CARE about each other somewhat as family. (Mostly mean Shamura’s dialogue during their bishop encounters, Narinder’s dialogue when receiving the silk from silk cradle, and Leshy’s line still calling Narinder his brother when asking the Lamb to retrieve his eye) Again, I’m no expert on feelings so I might be wrong here, but if you care about someone who you see is hurting, hurting BECAUSE OF YOU… I mean, even if it was self defense I’d still feel pretty fucking guilty personally, so there’s a good chance they’d probably feel the same.

I also think this pain Narinder has could affect his relationship with the Lamb(regardless of if you ship them or not, I do personally but you do you boo <3) I mean, they ARE still the leader of the flock. Narinder is now part of said flock. So he really is their responsibility. I feel like it would be a learning curve for both of them to at least SOME degree. Narinder hasn’t been without a crown that can dull the sense of pain until now so he probably doesn’t know wtf to do, and while The Lamb might have more experience from helping their followers who could also have had chronic issues, they’d still be pretty in the dark about it. I think it’d be a rough but necessary road for them both to cross in order to understand and help Narinder.

But this is all just head canon talk, so it might not matter. Idk but I hope it was interesting at least, or that it helped form some lovely little brainworms! Goodbyyyeeeee-

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

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Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down.  Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift.  It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up.  Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you.  The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.  

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.  

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door.  The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in.  You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar.  Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary.  But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop.  The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment.  Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin.  Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.  

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag?  Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night.  Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier.  On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.”  Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities.  The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far.  Most likely because they were all getting hammered.  Maybe you should get out more?  Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?”  You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.”  He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You’re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call.  And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar.  They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley.  The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air.  Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.”  Eddie barks, glaring down at you.  He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.”  You stutter, taken back by his stern voice.  It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?”  He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break.  Jett just–”

“Your break?  Now?  I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”  

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor.  Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth.  Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead?  Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.”  You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness.  Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.  

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo.  You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.”  He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t.  The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system.  Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.  

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit.  Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now.  He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’.  No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver.  The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world.  It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way.  It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever.  You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated.  The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life.  The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in.  Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you.  Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes.  It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.  

“Excuse me, do you work here?”  He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances.  You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you.  But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.”  You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.”  He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.”  You notify him, glancing at your watch.  “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table.  The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean.  It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless.  With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.  

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two.  Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at.  So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place.  It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week.  The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills.  If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip.  It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money.  If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him.  He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen.  You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.  

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.  

Just take his order and get it over with.  Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running.  Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’.  Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked.  Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought.  Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for.  It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.  

“Hey, you good?”  Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?”  You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality.  “Yeah, I’m fine.”  You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced.  You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way.  If only life were ever so kind to you.    

“Thank you, sweetheart.”  A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down.  You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze.  Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat?  Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission.  An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“  You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt.  Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?”  Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions.  An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What.  The.  Fuck.  Was that?”  He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened.  And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible.  The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it.  Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?”  Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving.  “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”  

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking.  She wasn’t into it.”  

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account.  His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way.  No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar.  I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.”  Eddie growls.  “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me?  And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.”  He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far.  You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat.  It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say.  Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs.  Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by.  A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match.  The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.  

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil.  But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape.  And it wasn’t working.  Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered.  Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option.  It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention.  There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.  

“Hey, Ed!”  He called behind him.  It was Jett.  A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision.  He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift?  Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!”  He yells again.  “Hey, you okay?  What happened?  Do you need–”

“Move over.”  You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully.  “You’re asking too many questions.”  

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi.  You gotta breathe.”  His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago. 

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.  

“In.”  Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip.  “Out.”  He exhales.  “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute.  Please.”  Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone.  “Can you look at me?”  He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head.  Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.”  He attempts to soothe.  “You wanna get some air?”  He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno.  ‘M sorry.”  You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.”  He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion.  “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”  

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley.  The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.  

“Try breathing again, in and out.”  Eddie encourages.  

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins.  Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.”  Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion.  “Out.”  He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again.  And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer.  You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.  

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–”  You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”  

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”  

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.  

“What?”  He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale.  His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.  

“Nevermind.”  You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle.  Barely noticeable but still there.  

“What?”  He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?”  He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.”  Eddie scoffs.  “I should’ve though.”  He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground.  “Motherfucker.”  He mumbles.  

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking.  Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late.  Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom.  Gotta pick your battles.”  He gestures toward you, shrugging.  

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion.  Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions.  But he didn’t.  He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked.  He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.”  You reply, staring down at your own shoes.  “I-I’m sorry.” 

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?”  He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.”  Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside.  “I at least need Eddie.”  He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?”  Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out.  “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.”  You insist.  He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable.  Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing.  Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make.  You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that.  So it would have to wait until the drive home.  Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become.  It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30.  Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home.  A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended.  Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact.  It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.  

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door.  Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly.  You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world.  If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.”  He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table.  “Do you watch where you’re going?  Do you have eyes?”  He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again.  You don’t feel real.  You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

“Now I’m out what–ten or so plates?  Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.”  Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes.  And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry?  What did I tell you?  I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.”  Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.”  Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.”  You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces.  There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults.  All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.”  Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs.  “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded.  Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face.  As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.”  Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage.  Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it.  He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean.  You’re being mean.”  You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over.  He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?”  You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.  

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.”  You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it.  You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar.  If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for.  Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much.  Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover.  Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Eddie hurries over, staring you down.  All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger.  Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears.  The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once.  You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.  

“What are you doing?”  He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.”  You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches.  If looks could kill.  For the second time that night.  Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.”  You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality.  You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this.  You did not think this through.  But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically.  You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.  

“Bambi, what the fuck.  You gonna drive?”  Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.”  You slur. 

“What are you doing out here?”  He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.”  You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes.  You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave.  Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.”  You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”  

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?”  You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him.  All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore.  You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person.  But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.”  You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly.  It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system.  He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern.  A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too.  A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable.  Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.  

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features.  Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance.  If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that.  But you weren’t that drunk.  

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way.  Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms.  The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.  

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car.  And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.  

“C’mon.”  Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own.  From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.  

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car.  You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.  

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one.  Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over.  Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag.  When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention.  At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder!  Ow!”  Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.  

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased.  Forget about this stupid night.  At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self.  You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed.  Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be.  Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it.  And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.”  You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay!  You’re fine, you’re fine.”  Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination.  It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not.  Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts?  Or did you bravely swallow it down?  Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house.  Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground.  Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses.  You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.”  He sighs.  “Puke it out.”  A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath.  Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind.  He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair.  Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming.  But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.  

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him.  If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is.  Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.”  You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you.  The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out.  You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.”  He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod.  Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched.  It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.  

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt.  You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again.  Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi?  I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?”  He asks.  

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to.  Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots.  As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.”  He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.”  You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret.  “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.”  Eddie exhales.  “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again.  Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could.  Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.”  You pout pitifully. 

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so.  The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.”  He mumbles.

~end~

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