#and to people who are mad/upset/making this all about themselves:

[dreamings-free]

.

[binders-and-beanies]

Not being able to vote makes me extra sensitive to discussions of the election tbh like. People who don’t have to fight super hard to vote don’t see the value in it, *because* their vote isn’t suppressed. So I wish that people who do have that privilege would use it to help out those of us who can’t (both within and outside of the US). But instead eligible voters just yell at us for even *trying* unsuccessfully to vote blue. Like are you happy? Are you satisfied about marginalized people not getting to vote? What is the result you’re hoping for

[cosmics-beings]

i remember some tfp fans were really mad when people drew tfp starscream super feminine and stuff and it's like, find something else to get mad about. in a fandom where a lot of the male characters are literally feminized by fandom or just flat out seen as women then why was it just a problem to y'all when it was HIM who went thru it.

[ethereal-mists]

There's this one guy in one of my friend groups that's always calling people names 'as a joke', despite being told several times to stop, and is just generally not a great person. The other people we're friends with are too kindhearted to kick him out, so he just gets away with it and it pisses me off.

BUT

I recently figured out a way to sort of deal with him

He called my friend a bitch, and she was very Not Happy about it, but has given up trying to stop him. So when she went quiet, I added, 'And a boss'. Asshole guy said, "No, just a bitch". So I said, "A bitch and a boss, and she shines like gloss, what's not clicking?"

And he kept insisting "She's a bitch" and every time he did, I finished it with those dojacat lyrics and he got increasingly more frustrated until he left the call. Guess who stopped calling people bitches since?

[hedgehog-moss]

The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.

Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)

I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)

When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.

It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.

Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.

My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.

The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—

—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.

I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)

But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague ���oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[breadbrobin]

fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

[ddarker-dreams]

what would make the husband rotation genuinely mad and would they act when theyre mad?? bad vibes for everyone

upsetting chrollo is an arduous endeavor.

he values control, whether it be over himself or others. creating the troupe would've been impossible if he was easily agitated. ironically, by muting his emotions for so long, he's set himself up for failure. when they do escape the fortress he built to contain them, they're wild. their repression drained any civility chrollo pretends to have.

regarding what it takes to get to this point... a third party revealing his criminal affiliations to you would do the trick. especially if the evidence they provide is irrefutable. chrollo isn't naïve, he's always been aware of the possibility. it'd be different if your efforts unmasked his identity. sure, he wouldn't be ecstatic, but he'd feel a hint of pride over your sleuthing capabilities. he almost considers it your right, in a weird way.

this sentiment doesn't extend to another's interference. they've inserted themselves into your relationship and warped your opinion of him. it's a violation, an intrusion. chrollo comes off as unusually detached when this information reaches him. he would've preferred you confront him, so he could control the narrative and do immediate damage control. with that plan dashed, his anger will simmer, until it can scald the one who tainted your perfectly fine relationship.

gojo satoru wants to be the center of your universe.

he's selfish, he isn't content with anything less than you in your entirety. he wants to be your partner, your best friend, your rival and confidant. he's cool with your friends and family (wow thanks gojo), since he knows that ultimately, you're both close in a way few can understand. shoko tells him at point blank that he's overdependent on you. he's aware, he just doesn't care to fix it. he's shameless enough to admit it as much without remorse.

for this reason, should someone capable of exerting influence over you stumble onto the scene, he would not be happy. megumi (kid or teen) remarks that he gets this 'creepy look', like he's pretending to be human. if he released a mere tendril of the cursed energy writhing inside him, it'd be enough to render most sorcerers comatose. his vibes become that abominable.

whether it be a former mentor, childhood friend, or some other role he can't fulfill for you himself — he wants to create as much distance between them and you as possible. fortunately for him, simply being himself is enough to repel most people. gojo inserts himself into your conversations until this person catches the hint. after knowing him for so long, you've grown immune to his questionable boundary crossing. he'll keep at it until they're scared off.

scaramouche gets angry with you for making him fall in love.

had his chest cavity not been empty, he would've clawed his heart out to avoid this harrowing feeling. the timidity, the vulnerability, oh, how he loathes it; loathes you for the spell you've placed him under! this resentment is, in truth, mostly directed at himself. shouldn't he have learned his lesson by now? how many times must he be chewed up and spit out before he stops wandering into the maw of emotional connection? he resolves himself to kill this... whatever it is you both share, before he's dragged through disappointment once again. he'll work himself up into a frenzy, all righteous anger and crackling bitterness—

—then your eyes light up at the sight of him, his name a warm exclamation on your tongue. in an instant, he's pacified, like he'd undergone a lobotomy. what a lovesick fool he is. you won't even let him fester in his negativity, you keep flitting about, earning his undivided attention. it's embarrassing how giddy he is around you (though he hides it beneath snark and condescension). when the interaction ends, he's left torn on what to do. all he knows is that he's running out of excuses to make this your fault.

blade's fury could slice through stars if you were ever hurt.

his mara is voracious until he returns every ounce of your pain tenfold. it's a scene from hell; rivers of blood, shredded limbs, piles of corpses tall enough to be mistaken for towers. in the heat of battle, he occasionally forgets where he is or why he's even doing this. then, all it takes is his mind's eye flashing the image of your face contorted in pain for his mania to blaze anew. you're precious. kind, warm, bestowing care upon him that he hadn't experienced in centuries. annihilation awaited anyone or anything that threatened you. he thinks death is too good for them, but it's the punishment he delivers best.

this explosive rage isn't finite. once his sword is deprived of living prey, he's forced to endure silence. entropy. an all-pervasive thought that you'd be better off with another. he never understood why you blessed him of all people with your affection. upon wiping his weapon clean, his reflection greets him. he scarcely looks human. drenched in viscera, eyes bloodshot and crazed. is this the man you love? what would you think, if you could see him now?

he almost wishes the fury would return. it's preferable to the hollowness he now faces.

[calisources]

ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.

(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 

(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.

(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.

(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.

(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 

(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.

(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.

(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 

(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.

(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.

(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.

(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.

(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.

(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 

(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.

(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.

(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.

(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.

(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.

(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.

(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.

(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.

(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.

(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.

(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.

(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.

(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.

(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.

(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.

(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.

(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.

(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.

(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.

(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.

(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.

SENTENCES AND QUOTES:

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”

“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”

“I want you—but I don’t want this."

“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”

“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”

“I will not share you."

“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”

“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”

“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”

“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”

“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”

“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”

“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”

“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’

“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”

“Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“It is legal because I wish it.”

“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”

“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”

“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."

“I cannot come with you, my prince.”

“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”

“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”

“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”

“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”

“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”

“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”

“Give yourself to me.”

“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”

“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”

“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”

“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”

“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”

“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”

“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”

“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”

“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”

“And you, are mine.”

“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”

“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”

“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”

“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”

“One day, I will be able to leave you.”

“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”

"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"

“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'

"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."

“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."

“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”

“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”

“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”

'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”

“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”

“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”

“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”

“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”

“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”

“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."

“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“

“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”

“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”

[misstwisted]

raaaaant time

so, I am very upset over the new Menéndez brothers series that came out. If you’ve seen it, you probably know why. Before I go into this, if you don’t know about this case, the menendez brothers had murdered their mom and dad in 1989 as self defense, fearing of them soon murdering them themselves, after suffering years of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse by their parents hands.

for context I am a long time supporter of these men. I’ve known about this case since I was around 12 (unsupervised internet access, lmao) and I supported them then and I support them now.

This series is fucking disgusting. And not just because of the atrocious, disrespectful, and weirdly comedic relief portrayals of these traumatized men, no no no, it also of course just had to include sexualization and Incestuous fetishization of them. I was SO EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE watching these scenes. I’m sure it’s all supposed to show how their father had fucked up the brothers relationship and how he blurred the lines for them of what’s appropriate and not appropriate to do with your family, but this crosses a god damn line. It’s possible I’m also giving this dumb fuck director too much credit. Idk if it’s just me, but this feels like a writers barely disguised fetish moment. So many scenes felt like the start of a porno, and at times DID BECOME A PORNO!!!!!

I remember so many times of me yelling out loud in shock “WHAT IS THIS SHOW????”

the dialogue is trash, the pacing is trash, the portrayal is trash, etc. The only part I personally think was great was when they recreated the footage of Lyle and Erik walking into court. When I was watching it I felt they really looked and acted like the brothers at that moment. And the fact it’s surrounded by such garbage is sad. It really felt disconnected from the other episodes and scenes because of how much I enjoyed that little moment. And they weren’t even talking or anything.

There’s only like one word I could use to describe a lot of the scenes, especially the sexualization scenes, which is: unnecessary.

Gotta be honest, I really wanted to like this show! Thought it could bring back attention on this case again. Show empathy towards them. But no, I had to watch two actors portraying real life traumatized brothers kiss each other.

I am seriously wondering now if Ryan Murphy wanted two actors with romantic/sexual chemistry casted on purpose for what seems to be some sort of fantasy of his.

I started this show YESTERDAY, I am halfway through episode 7 right now. I wanted to see if it’d get better, and it just never did. But honestly? It’s my fault. What did I fucking expect from a Netflix series that’s directed by the guy who made GLEE? I’m still mad now, but I can’t even describe how even more upset I was yesterday watching it.

I legit could probably go on for days about how disrespectful this show is, and good on Erik for not being afraid to call it and the directors out.

It’s in vain to say this, because obviously they’ll never see it, but: Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan you two are pieces of utter dogshit. What about any of this was a good idea? You guys deserve to be sued for thinking this was okay. You deserve it for making Dahmer, and you deserve it for making this. I don’t even wanna SAY all the horrible things I think about you guys. All i hope is nobody ever hands you two a god damn camera again. Sincerely go fuck yourselves.

I know I’m being a dramatic little bitch again for the 100th time but this is truly horrendous. This isn’t just a story you can add shit to and get creative with, guys, this is their LIVES. These are real human people with dignities and families that care about them. They’ve been disrespected enough, the fact that they were sentenced to life in general just shows how little people empathized with them.

This audacity of this being made. This very serious story of trauma being turned into this weird comedy show.

what is this RPF, Ryan Murphy? ARE YOU BORED??? How about you go make a actual fucking difference? Cause you know what, Erik and Lyle are, and they’re the ones who’re incarcerated!

that’ll be all.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Exceptions

Summary: You’re finally pregnant and Joel can’t keep his hands off of you. With another raider group getting too close to Joel’s community he has no choice but to leave you behind in the very capable hands of his brother.

Pairing: Raider! Joel x fem. reader / Raider!Tommy x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: Raider!Joel, Raider!Tommy, smut (unprotected sex, oral sex), jerking off, slapping, dirty talk, established relationship, unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), lactation kink, cucking (kinda), pregnancy, kinda pregnancy kink?, derogatory language, infidelity kink ?, Joel and Tommy do not touch or really interact with each other but are in the same bed, but if that's not your thing kindly move on, thanks!

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Part of Desire

Joel got even more protective of you once you found out you were indeed finally pregnant. 

Only a very trusted circle of people were now allowed near you and you could count the days he had chose to leave you to take care of something up on one hand. 

That was until a rather disgusting raider group had gotten a little too close for comfort to the place Joel had marked as his territory. 

He had told you that he had to leave for a couple of days to take care of this himself, his cock steadily drilling into you from behind while his hands both were playing with your tits. They had grown quite a lot and now in your sixth month of the pregnancy he was waiting impatiently for your milk to come through. 

He had put all kinds of pictures and thoughts into your head about how he would milk you dry the moment he had his first taste. 

He would be so mad it finally happened once he had been gone for almost a week.

You woke up wet. 

Which was not uncommon. You had been even more horny since you found out you were pregnant, but this morning you woke up with your shirt wet. 

„Fuck,“ you sighed, your fingers ribbing over the wet spots over your tits. 

„Watsgoingon?“ A tired voice behind you mumbled, an arm sneaking around your waist, a warm palm cradling your belly. 

„Joel is gonna be so upset,“ you pouted as you cuddled against Tommy’s chest, feeling his chin rest against your shoulder. 

Since Joel had to leave, he left the only person he trusted to look after you behind and in charge of the compound. 

His brother. 

And Tommy has been instructed to do everything to keep you happy. 

And boy did he.

With his mouth. His fingers. His cock. 

There was just something about Tommy Miller calling you a cheating cock dumb whore that did it for you. 

Not that you were cheating. No, this arrangement between the three of you had been going on for years. Though you and Joel were strictly faithful and only fucking each other, his brother was something like a treat Joel granted you for being a very good girl. 

And you always were a very good girl for Joel. 

Joel liked to watch when you and Tommy got together. His presence in the room making it somehow even more filthy. 

You just had to stop fucking Tommy once Joel had decided that he wanted to be the one who got you pregnant. The first time.

But playing with the scenario of being caught cheating did something for you that drove you over the edge every single time. 

Tommy had a lot of sex. With both men and woman. 

He had two wives who currently were pregnant themselves. 

You did not like both of them though. 

But it was you who he always came back to. 

He began to kiss up your neck, his hands rubbing over your belly, his cock poking against you from behind. 

„Think my milk finally came in,“ you mumbled and he stopped, taking a deep breath before he carefully turned you so you were laying on your back. His dark eyes were on you as he reached over to the side to turn on the lights and you both looked down to your chest where the fabric of one of Joel’s shirt you had put on to sleep were drenched. 

„Fuck,“ he cursed lowly before he came to kneel between your legs. 

„Joel’s gonna be so pissed he wasn’t here for that,“ he said with a shake of his head, before his fingers traced over the cold damp fabric of the shirt, your nipples hard and you shivered. 

He helped you out of the shirt, throwing it behind him and he just looked at your tits with pure hunger. 

You knew he wanted a taste. 

But Joel was clear. 

No one but him was allowed to taste you. Not even his brother. And he shared almost everything with his brother.

You saw him close his eyes as he took a deep breath before he lowered himself between your legs and began to eat you out, most likely as a distraction for himself, not that you were complaining. 

Your hands ran down your body, your fingers brushing through his hair, before you gathered the long strings of his hair into your hand in a makeshift ponytail, keeping his hair out of his face as he looked up at you with hungry eyes, his tongue slipping though your folds. 

Tommy’s hand gripped your thighs, pulling them further apart as he feasted on you, his tongue playing with your clit, teasing you. 

„Tommy please,“ you let your head fall back, your arms spread out on the mattress beside you. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth while one of his hands came up to touch your left tit and you shattered, coming with a cry of his name, your whole body shaking. 

You had been overly sensitive for a couple of days now, the lightest touch leaving you shaking and hungry for more. 

He cleaned you up, slurping obscenely and you sighed, before he came up, smirking up at you before he kissed your belly. 

„Wanna sit on your cock,“ you hummed. 

„Oh yeah?“ He asked, kissing up your body. 

You nodded. 

„Just gimme a minute. Can’t feel my legs yet,“ you joked and he hummed self satisfied before he laid down next to you. He wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly jerked himself off. 

Sucking your bottom lip in you looked at how his hand moved over his length, your pussy clenching in anticipation at having his cock inside of you. 

„See something you like, doll?“ He teased and you nodded before you rolled to your side to get onto your knees. You crawled over to him and he grinned up at you. 

You were about to straddle him, when he shook his head. 

„Turn around. Wanna see that ass bounce on me,“ he said and you obeyed, turning around. You sat down on his legs, feelings his hands pull you back, your pussy rubbing over his cock. Grabbing his cock you lined yourself up before you slowly sank down on him with a long moan. 

„Fuck yes,“ Tommy groaned before he slapped your ass. Hard. 

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you slowly began to move, rolling your hips on top of him. Your hands came up to cup your tits before you began to ride him, bouncing on his cock, while Tommy continued to slap your ass. 

Closing your eyes you only focused on the way he was filling you when you heard the door open. 

Opening your eyes you smiled widely when Joel walked in. 

„Hey baby,“ you hummed, crying out when Tommy chose this moment to thrust up into you. Joel crossed his arms as he leaned against the door, his dark gaze focused on you as you rode his brothers cock, your belly swollen with his child. 

„Having fun?“ He asked and you nodded.

„Missed you,“ you whimpered and he smiled before he walked over. He bend down to kiss you, his hand on your throat possessively, and you moaned against his lips as Tommy continued to thrust up into you. 

„Yeah?“ He asked and you nodded, looking up at him. You gasped when Tommy slapped your ass again. Joel chuckled as he sat down on the bed. 

You moaned when you felt Tommy pull you against his chest and carefully turn the both of you so you were lying on your side with him behind you, his cock still inside of you. His hands were on your hips as he continued to fuck you, now a little harder, his cock twitching. 

He was close and so were you. 

„Guess what?“ You asked, biting your lip and Joel raised his eyebrow. 

„Wanna taste my milk?“ You grinned and Joel’s eyes widened before they darkened. He laid down in front of you, kissing your lips first, his big hands both palming your tits before he slipped down the bed, his lips closing around one of your nipples. 

Tommy groaned behind you, his fingers now between your legs playing with your clit, bringing you to the edge.

And then Joel sucked.

And you? 

You came with a loud cry of Joel’s name, your hands flying into his hair to keep him against your tit. 

Your eyes rolled back, the sensation of Joel sucking on your nipples and Tommy cumming inside of you so overwhelming you almost passed out. 

„Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,“ you heard behind you, Tommy fucking his cum into you. 

„Oh my god,“ you moaned, still riding out your orgasm. Out of breath you whimpered once Tommy pulled out. He kissed your shoulder as he rolled out of bed and you felt Joel pull you against him.

Within seconds Joel had you in his lap.

You were still asking yourself when he had taken his clothes off when he impaled you on his cock, groaning at the feeling. 

He moved you on top of him, his eyes fixed on your tits before he leaned in again, sucking on your other nipple and you shivered. He hummed as he sucked on your tit, your milk filling his mouth, the sensation so foreign, yet so fucking good. 

There was a knock on the door and he released your nipple with a plop, his cock thrusting up into you.

„Whatever it is, ask Tommy. I’m busy,“ he yelled, slapping your ass and you moaned loudly. 

„You been a good slut for Tommy?“ He asked you and you nodded. 

„He taste you?“ He asked and you shook your head. 

„Good,“ he hummed, his face leaning back down against your tits again. 

„Cause this is mine,“ he grunted before he pulled one of your nipples into his mouth again. 

„Yours,“ you gasped with a smile. 

[toiletclown]

breathless.

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.

word count: 2028

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot. 

You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all. 

He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.

The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.

“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles. 

Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.

After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.

The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?” 

“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.

After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.

//

And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately. 

“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety. 

“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.

You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”

“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.

//

After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.

“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat. 

You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.

This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.” 

Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?” 

“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate. 

“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.

Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment. 

You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”

Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”

Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.

Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.

“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”

“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”

Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?

[goldfades]

Can you do a pt.2 of UConn wbb manager headcannon pleasee

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

─ warnings | mentions of injuries, fluffy, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

there are soooo many videos of manager getting upset over dumb calls that they make on the court

and people like read her lips and it's so funny because she'll just cuss them out not knowing there's a camera on her

like she gets pissed but since she can't get involved, she'll just talk to herself as she takes pictures

they become reaction pictures

the caption would be like "when my mom pisses me off but i can't let her hear" or something like that

there are a lot of videos of manager being really sassy but there are PLENTY of her being a sweetheart

especially to fans!!!!!!

not necessarily like clips or anything but anyone who's met her LOVES HER

she will gladly take pics of you and the player she's with, and not only that but baby girl will get ALL the angles

it's adorable

i feel everyone is very protective of manager but ESPECIALLY kk and paige because they're like her guard dogs

this may be like a really niche example but kinda like kiyoko in haikyuu??? yeah...

also NIKA

paige/kk get really protective over literally anything so it's just them tryna make you laugh when they're protective, but you/nika have a different dynamic where it's like

if anyone tries to disrespect you, not only will they have to deal with paige/kk but NIKA

and she's sm scarier than them no offense...

you know you've made into manager's heart when she starts to tease you because she's like... not being too professional with you anymore

especially like the freshman, ooo she loves teasing them

in this ask, where nonnie talks about how the team brings out manager's soft side is sooo true

like she may seem like a cold-stone bitch but in reality, she's NOT !! not even a tiny bit, poor girl just has the worst case of rbf EVER

her soft side comes out when any of the girls get injures, oh my gosh

she's the first to come to their aid and help them

and she's always there for them after the fact cus she knows how hard injuries can be when you play a support

she's there emotionally and talks them through it, makes sure that they know they're still part of the team injury or not, and of course that she loves them!!

AND she's very soft with the girls when they're going through stuff outside of basketball

relationship issues, family issues, drama within your friendgroup, baby girl is there to help them through it!!!!!

but she's not just like "therapist" friend, trust the team in return knows when theres something up w her and will do everything in their power to help her

and jump whoever hurt you

when manager gets her nails done, the team gets SOOO hurt bc they can't get theirs done bc of basketball so they get super mad at her (jokingly ofc)

so she just rubs it in their faces to get them angry LMAOOO, its very funny to witness

every once in a blue mood, manager will post a thrist trap and OH MY GOD

the entire team is in her comments hyping flirting with her up!!

and especially after uconn kinda blows up on tiktok, you bet those old thirst traps will make themselves into the damn edits

you and paige will hang out during that time and just look at edits while laughing your asses off (but paige is lowkey into yours cus she favorites them)

OOOO AND SHE FORGETS THAT THE EDITORS CAN SEE WHEN SHE SAVES THEM SO SHE JUST GETS EXPOSED AND EVERYONE'S JUST LIKE PAIGEEEE PLS 😭😭

i feel like there's def an edit with the audio "milkshake instrumental" bc everyone thinks u give off like... mean girl vibes

BUT EVERYONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH U BC OF IT, IF THAT MAKES IT???

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

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

[wolf-among-mechs]

I think something has to be said about mech-techs because they come in different breeds just as mechwarriors and mechs themselves.

You got your rank and file army mech-techs. They typically work with stock models and pre-arranged configurations for omnis. Practising and drilling it in until they can do it in their sleep while under and on fire without missing a beat. The same goes for a repair. They know where everything goes in the hunk of junk and can service with precision. Most of the lower rungs are people who can barely remember to breathe but can lift and hold things. Typically, you get some senior techs that have brains and can give recommendations of field refits. The dread variant is the ones who know they are too competent to be fired and leverage that against mechwarriors and senior officers.

Mercenary mech-techs are space wizards in that they usually care for and manage highly specialised machines that only sometimes resemble the original mech. Cables and ammofeed systems have been rerouted, assembled, moved, and re-used for another system. A melange of disparate systems that have all the cooperative abilities of fussy babies past naptime. That somehow, against all odds in a way barely they comprehend, works. So, of course, they will be a bit upset if you lose the machine. Or blow it up or... you know. All the things a mercenary can mess up a mech with. Dumbest thing I heard was leaving it overnight in a bar and having the darn thing stolen by some space hicks. Also if something is stupid or does not work with a mech design you had in mind. They are going to hit you with clipboards.

Clan technicians are made to serve without question, and they are good at it. Good at repairing, realigning omnis, and working really hard, they seem able to work more than twenty-four hours a day. They will do whatever you tell them to without hesitation. Even if you mutter something from a fever pitched dream of a Wimber Tolf, a mad cat with the rocket pods in the arms and the lasers in the shoulders. They will do it. The only thing they will say something about is a tonnage mismatch. Terrific at maintaining equipment and weapons. But also, they will not do something unless you order them first. Often working on whatever the highest ranking warrior told them to do last.

Then you have the periphery mech-techs. People who own welders and plasma cutters and a bit of elbow grease and a resume so filled with lies it may just qualify as a politician's speech. They can bolt anything to a mech. Heck they will bolt anything to mech. Weld it there. The rust bucket mechs they get in the periphery are usually hardy enough that they can hold up to their creativity. Leading to maddening makeshift designs at times. The ones who figure out mechs at least a bit graduate and begin to staple them together. Creating franken mechs. Things that moves that should not. Piles of ferro-metal slabs of armour and myomer that shamble in open defiance of logic. Still you got to admire that somebody thought to string things together. And make it work.

Of course, you have a bundle of mechtechs that break out of these molds and find their own way. As people do. But they are less seen behind the moneymakers, the flash, and the glamour of the mechwarriors. But in the end, it does not really matter what kind of mechtech you are or if you are a mechwarrior. We are all happy deep down when we get back the mechbay alive. Ideally, with a mech, but sometimes you might not. In those moments, just remember it is a whole lot easier to rebuild a mech than it is to rebuild a life.

[spooky-luvur]

OPEN 24/7

(Ghostface x Reader)

(Summary: Working at a gas station at two in the morning was sooo boring- until a strange customer changes that)

The bell rings for the umpteenth time. As part of your game, you make a guess in your head. Another old beer-belly? Bud Light, but maybe Modelo. Maybe a kid, reeking of weed and you’re gonna need to ask them for ID. Those are more common than you’d like to think about.

You listen to the squeak of leather shoes against the floor, not bothering to look up from your phone until the footsteps stop in front of you.

“How can I help you?”

“Something more interesting than me?”

The tone of the man causes you to finally avert your attention. He’s neither fat and bald nor young enough to require questions, if the shadow on his face is any indication. He's giving you a look, hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Not a mean look- you’ve gotten enough of those working at this crummy gas station to know the difference. The smooth brow and twinkling eyes is enough to tell you he isn’t mad and isn’t about to yell at you about the pumps not working. Not yet at least.

You flush a bit at the call out, awkwardly slipping the device in your pocket. Thankfully it’s just you tonight, so there’s no annoying coworker to rat you out for this.

“Sorry,” you tell him, trying to sound at least a tidbit professional. “Slow night, I guess.”

The man’s lips quirk but he’s not quite smiling. You wonder if he’s actually upset about it before he nods to the shelf behind you.

“Some reds. Gotta look cool and mysterious for all the people flinging themselves at me.”

You let out a ‘ha’ at his joke and he grins. You turn to grab a pack of smokes, placing it on the counter and he pulls out some cash to pay for it. Not unusual, but usually people his age love to flaunt their fancy credit cards to prove they have them or some other bullshit reason to flash the shiny hunk of plastic at you. Normally a shitty pick-up line follows it.

“Not very good for you,” you attempt to joke. The man raises his brow and you immediately wish you kept a gun behind the counter to shoot yourself with.

“I know,” he says. “Ever found yourself hooked on something, though? Can be tough as hell to break away.” He gives a kind of wry smile that leaves you fidgeting where you stand.

“No. Not- nothing like that, no.”

The man deftly tucks the smokes into his pocket.

"Right. Well, have a nice night," he says before turning on his heel and swiftly exiting the store, the encounter happening so quickly that it leaves your head spinning.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself, a bit too stiff to go back to your casual leaning against the counter pose.

You’re still absentmindedly staring at the glass doors when the phone rings. The blaring noise makes you jump but you snatch it up nonetheless, stuttering out a hello.

“Heya, just checking in.”

The voice of your boss makes your shoulders relax. You suddenly can’t remember what they were tense for.

“Hey Jimmy, I’m doing fine.”

���Yeah? No robbers?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be crying in the freezer.”

“Ha. Never gonna happen, kid. Not when they know Big Jim’s the one that owns the place.”

“Course not.”

He reminds you to restock the drinks before he hangs up, leaving you sighing against the phone. A couple seconds after you set it down it rings again and you pick it up fully expecting for Jimmy to answer saying ‘and another thing-‘

But it isn’t Jimmy who responds to your hello this time. A peculiar voice echoes the word back to you. It makes you pause, and a short silence follows.

“…Hello?”

Snapping out of it, you instinctively adjust your posture as though the person on the other end could discern your lackluster demeanor and reprimand you for it.

“How can I help you?”

”Who is this?”

“…Jimmy’s Station. Do you need a pizza, or…”

“No, no. Was hoping you could help me with something else.”

“Okay…what is it?” You naw your lip, nervous for some reason. Your gut twists like you’ve eaten something bad.

“You got any knives?”

“Ah…”

You glance over at the rack of colorful blades on the other side of the counter. All shapes and sizes, all dangerously sharp.

“Yes, we do.”

“Perfect. You got any pink ones?”

“Buying one for your wife?”

Seriously, curse you and your automatic attempts to desperately avoid weird conversations. The voice on the other end laughs a bit. Or scoffs.

”Maybe. Think she’ll like it?”

“I mean, probably.”

“Hm…what about blue? You got any blue ones?”

“Yes, we have blue knives.” You answer, simply exasperated now. Part of you thinks this guy is just messing with you, but these seem like regular questions well enough. It’s not like there’s a lack of strange people out there that could be asking them.

“Well, that’s just great. Hey, could you do me a favor?”

Knowing he’s probably gonna say something stupid, you reply with a ‘sure, whatever.’

”Take one of those pretty, shiny knives- one of the really nice ones, you know? Pick your favorite color, even. Take it, really feel the weight- and shove it in your gut till you bleed like a stuck fucking pig.”

The phone is suddenly a block of ice in your hand.

“W-What?”

”What?” It mocks you. “You think it’ll hurt? I bet you’d like that.”

You shake. Why the hell haven’t you hung up yet? The sick freak on the other end laughs tauntingly. Like he’s actually having fun with this.

”You would wouldn’t you? I’d take your damn guts and string them up on the wall- really spice the place up a bit, it’s so dreary. Then I’d-“

You finally rip the phone away from your ear and slam it down onto the receiver. Gulping in a breath, you rub your hands down your face to steady yourself. Stupid prank callers.

Deciding you need to get the hell up and do something with your hands you leave the counter and head toward the back of the store behind the freezers. Upon entering you shiver, considering going back out to your car to retrieve your jacket.

You haul a box of beers onto a table and begin unpacking them, the repetitive motion allowing you to lose yourself in your thoughts. For a few minutes it’s a good distraction from the voice you keep replaying in your head.

Then your phone rings. Not the store phone still on the front counter- your personal cell resting in your back pocket.

‘Ugh,’ you think. ‘What is it now, spam?’

Thinking that, you ignore call and let it continue ringing until it stops. But then it happens again, and you’re annoyed enough to whip it out and answer it.

“Listen-“

”You’re being really fucking bad.”

The can you’d been holding slips out of your grip and explodes on the floor, wetting your feet. You curse loudly and fling your phone onto the table.

“What the fuck!”

The device slides off the table and clatters onto the stone floor. All you can do for several moments is stand there and stare as if the voice would reach through the device and grab you, carrying out the acts it had told you to perform on yourself only minutes prior.

Thinking quickly you hurry over to the freezer door and lock it from the inside. Great, now the only people that can get in and get you are people that work here. You can just stay in here till morning, right? Or maybe Jim will call again and you won’t pick up and he’ll get worried and he’ll call for someone to help you and-

“Saved me the trouble.”

A pair of arms wind around your waist and you’re ripped away from the door and tossed onto the ground like a sack of food. The concrete scratches your skin painfully as you gasp for breath, glancing up to see a kind of black shroud. It’s all you allow yourself before you’re scrambling to your feet and further into the room.

Only, as you stop in front of the back door that leads to basically the woods, you realize you don’t have the one think that opens it on your person. Your mind thinks back to the key ring in the office as you hear the shrouded attacker approaching.

“Please,” you’re saying before you even turn around. Once you do you’re met with a stark white face twisted in a dramatic scream. The figure is tall, you notice as it stalks closer.

“Already begging?” It teases you in a warped voice. The same one on the phone, you realize.

“What the hell?” The fearful tears in your eyes sting angrily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Want do you want? I’ll call the fucking cops!”

He’s laughing before you can finish.

“Really? Who am I to stop you, then?”

He steps to the side and waves his arm to the doorway behind him.

“Phones just over there. Go ahead.”

Surely. Surely he’s messing with you. You’re not that stupid, and neither is he. And he knows that you know that, if the silent laughter that makes his shoulders shake is any indication.

“Fuck you,” you hiss at him as you press your back to the locked door. Your hands splay across the cold metal as if searching for a blackhole to swallow you completely.

“Such a dirty mouth! Think it’s good for anything other than cussing me out?”

“Get fucked.”

“Are you offering?”

You find yourself paralyzed with fear as he reaches into a concealed pocket, retrieving a knife. The silver gleams in the shitty light of the freezer.

“What do you want?” You take pride in lack of tremble in your voice.

“You were so rude earlier,” the masked man says. He slides a finger down the blade of the knife tauntingly. “Hanging up, and then ignoring me? Didn’t your mother teach you any better?”

“You deserved it, freak.”

“Oh!” He laughs. “You think so? Mm, maybe I was a bit forward…” He playfully taps a gloved finger against the plastic mask like a cartoon villain.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest but you force yourself to steady your breathing and consider your options. Right now you’re stuck between this obviously intelligent freak of a man and a locked door you have no hope of opening unless you suddenly get super strength.

“I see you thinking, doll. Wanna share with the class?” By now he’s standing mere inches away and you flinch as he brings up the gutting knife to trace the tip of it along the vulnerable skin of your exposed collar.

You steel yourself, tilting your head so you’re not looking up at him like a frightened child. “Get away from me.”

The knife pauses in its path up your throat and you nearly shiver at the sharp chill.

“Away? From you?”

A hand tangles in your hair and shoves you harder against the door, making you groan in pain.

“Go ahead and have an attitude again, I dare you. Double dare, even.” He hisses, bringing his mask closer to your face. You can’t see his eyes behind the cloth. Just a black void.

“I’m sorry…” you mutter, having to come up with something quick. Maybe if you convince this guy you’re totally giving up he’ll slip somehow and you can get away. Or he’ll see right though it and you’ll end up with your insides strewn about like party streamers. That’ll be fun for the next shift.

Your breathy tone causes him to pause. After a moment his chest rumbles like a happy purr.

“Oh, that’s good. I like that. Say it again, won’t you?”

You can feel his knife poking your belly- thinly veiled threat.

“I’m sorry.” You grow bold enough to slide your hand from the wall and onto his waist. You touch the man lightly as if he was a bomb you could set off at any moment. Which he is.

“I’m just scared. Please.”

“Of course you are. But it’s gonna be okay,” he brings his other hand from your hair down to your face to traces your lips with his finger. It would have made your stomach flutter if he wasn’t holding a knife against it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. I just wanna have some fun, but you’re being such a brat.”

“I…”

Your eyes slide past him to the open doorway. Your phone still rests on the floor in that room, but doesn’t he know about that? No way he’d let you anywhere near it. You’d have to think of something, fast.

A hand under your chin forces you to look back at the screaming mask.

“I hope you’re not thinking of it. I don’t know if I can handle anymore of that tonight.”

“No…no, of course not.”

“Good. Good boy.” His hand moves from your chin to curl around your throat as if simply admiring the flesh there.

“Please,” you push yourself off the wall and further against him, straight up pressing your chest to his at this point. His hand stutters against you and you don’t feel the sharp press of the knife anymore. “You’re…making me feel so-“

“Yeah? How am I making you feel, baby?”

You smooth your hands up his arms, having to mentally scream at yourself to keep you from fawning over the firm muscle there.

Maybe he’s too desperate to get his hands on you, or maybe he’s distracted by your hands on him, but he’s loose enough to not notice the not so subtle tightening of your grasp all of a sudden.

“So…urgh!”

You don’t know where you got the strength but you throw your entire body weight at the guy in order to shove him away and pretty much fling him toward a metal rack stacked full of boxes. He yelps in pain as he crashes into it, bottles spilling out and exploding. If the bitter smell of strong alcohol doesn’t suffocate him, his now drenched mask surely will. You use his momentary stun to turn and sprint to the other room, nearly slipping on the liquid covering the floor.

Your hands are shaking from adrenaline so badly you almost lose your balance once you crawl under the table to retrieve your phone. Breathing a sigh of relief once you have it you swipe to your contacts and click on the first one you see, the scream for help on the tip of your tongue. You don’t remember if your finger hit the call button or not before you’re suddenly grabbed by the ankle and dragged out from under the table shrieking.

You don’t have time to prepare yourself to meet the terrible mask once again before you’re flipped onto your back, but that doesn’t matter. A gasp gets stuck in your throat at the bare face that greets you.

“You…”

The man’s hair is damp as it falls over his eyes and he reeks of fancy beer. He’s breathing heavily as he sits on your legs to keep you still.

“Hey, doll. Funny seeing you here.”

A brief exchange- a single purchase was all it took to become a victim? He must see the realization on your face because he grins like a bully.

“I know, I know. I did good, didn’t I? Had to stop myself from jumping over the counter then and there. Knew the wait would be worth it, though.”

“You fucking prick!” Squirming within the man's unyielding hold, he maintains a smug grin while firmly clasping your wrists. You can tell someone like him is simply reveling in his sense of control. “I hope you choke on your damn cigarettes!”

He throws his head back and laughs. If he wasn’t currently holding you captive you probably would have blushed at this man’s boyish charm.

“That’s good, I might use that. You mind if I use that?”

You attempt to kick him off before there’s a hand on your throat and squeezing. You sputter, grasping at it. The man brings his face down to yours to hiss angrily, but before he can get a word out-

“Hello? Please answer me…”

The room fills with a thick silence as both of you freeze. You both pivot your heads in unison, eyes landing upon the phone which is nearly concealed beneath the table's shadow. The screen is lit up in a call, the name of your friend that lives just down the road splayed across it. You’d laugh in pure relief if you weren’t still face to face with the man in the shrouded costume.

The man on top of you faces you with a blank look and brings his finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion. As if you’re dumb enough to yell out for help now.

“The cops are on their way, I called them a few minutes ago. Maybe everything is fine but I just wanted to make sure-“

The man quietly seethes with anger and scrambles off you to snatch up the device, ending the call. He leaves you on the ground, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“I know where you live. I know where you work.”

He crouches beside you and there’s that stupid fucking grin again, like a child that just stole another kids candy.

“I know where you go to eat, I know what roads you take, I know where you piss in the morning. I know everything about you, doll. So please, tell them everything and give me a fucking reason.”

You hadn’t noticed his knife was back in his gloved hand until it’s being dragged down your leg, catching the fabric of your pants. You suck in a breath and look back up to meet his eye, shaking your head.

“Good. I know you’ll behave.”

He stands back up and makes to leave through the back door, swinging the ring of the key on his finger casually. He winks at you before he slips away.

“Until next time, baby.”

Thirty minutes later you’ll be seated in your friends car as they drive you home, remembering the feeling of the masked man’s hands on your skin, on your body, around your throat- until it’s seared in your consciousness. It isn’t until you’re laying in bed that night that a shiver of fear, or maybe even sick excitement runs through you when you remember he still has the key.

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(chat gpt fr saved my ass on some of this 🤫)