#and we’d just gotten paid too

[delphiniumarchangelmoon]

Update: fantasy smp designs on hold because I have to design like 4-5 outfits for my dnd character

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[marlynnofmany]

Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[foldingfittedsheets]

Back when I sold jewelry I worked for a company that was genuinely really great. They had the most communicative and supportive management staff I’ve ever worked with, paid time off, benefits, and genuinely good company culture.

A coworker told me she thought it was a cult when she first started because of how positively everyone spoke about the company. She was certain there was no other reason for everyone to like working there so much.

The trade off was that the turnover was fairly high because not everyone could thrive in that environment. It wasn’t typical sales, it was cooperative. If someone came in that you weren’t a good match for then it was your job to help pair them with someone who would be a good match. If you couldn’t communicate well and take a lot of coaching and feedback it wasn’t gonna work. And a lot of sales people are the type to struggle with coaching, tending to view it as criticism.

When new hires came on we’d usually wait before getting too attached in case they didn’t work out. One of my favorite coworkers who came on board started with several others but was left standing after the other two were fired. I’d known her about a year before she admitted, “Yeah, one of my first interactions with you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were an asshole but later I realized you’re actually really lovely.”

I was shocked and said, “What?! I scared you? How?”

So what had happened was the two people hired with her had just gotten let go, both for not being able to gel with the team and being unable to adapt to feedback. This coworker had come up to me, still freshly minted and nervous about her place in the store and said, “Wow, it’s surprising they were just dismissed like that.”

Now what I wanted to convey to her in that moment was that this wasn’t a job you could coast in and that putting in the work to have positive relationships with your customers and coworkers was important. What I meant with my statement was that she was thriving and would be fine.

But what I said, in an off-handed manner was, “Yeah, we have very high standards. People get fired a lot.”

She still teases me about how cutthroat I sounded in that moment and I was mortified when she told reminded me about it but she’s still there going strong while others get the boot.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 2

Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words: 7k

Masterlist

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Monday, October 5th, 6:00 PM - Ona's Room

I groan in displeasure upon hearing a door slam. I take off my headphones, which are no longer playing music. I realize I’ve managed to fall asleep again, and someone has just woken me up. How do I sleep so much? I sometimes wonder. A girl with perfect brown hair has just entered the room. I guess she’s the roommate I was told about.

-  "Oh, sorry if I woke you," she says. "I didn't know you were already here! You're the new one, right?"

-  "Hmm." I make the effort to get up after stretching well. This girl isn't to blame for my bad mood, so I’ll try to be nice for our first meeting. She gives me a smile that shows her perfectly aligned white teeth. I briefly look her over. She seems nice, that's something. She’s not a bimbo, and she’s rather pretty. Probably a girl who turns many heads.

-  « Alexia Putellas" she introduces herself, holding out her hand.

-  « Ona Batlle" I reply, shaking it.

-  "They gave me your stuff," she informs me.

-  "Really?" I look at the clothes I’ve just received, frowning. There are different outfits, each given in triple copies. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is... I look at her to be sure. She’s wearing exactly one of the outfits I’m holding.

-  "No way am I wearing this."

-  "Sorry," she grimaces. "It's in the rules. You'll get used to it quickly, you'll see."

-  "I don't think so, no. I don’t plan on staying."

-  "Oh... I see." I feel like she’s mocking me. She’s immediately less friendly than I thought. I prefer not to comment on her attitude so we don’t start off on the wrong foot. Instead, I focus on what I have in my hands. I observe the set with a look of disgust. Uniforms, seriously! That’s not going to work for me. They’re all in khaki, black, or gray. As dull as this place. It seems like they do everything to demoralize us.

-  "Did they tell you that you have a supervisor or something like that?"

-  "I think so, yes. They mentioned something like that."

-  "Oh, and do you know the person’s name?"

-  "No, they didn't tell me anything," I say, shrugging.

-  "You'll find out tomorrow, I guess. Well, I was going to see some friends before dinner. Do you want to come with me? I'll introduce you."

- "Why not, yes," I reply after hesitating.

It’s not necessarily a good idea, but I’m here now. Might as well try to fit in until I leave. I don’t plan on staying alone either, and making new friends shouldn’t be a bad thing. I just need to be pleasant, but that might be complicated given my mood. Alexia smiles broadly, showing her pleasure. I put the uniforms she brought me into my wardrobe. If there’s one thing I can't stand, it’s people touching my stuff. Thanks to that, I’ve gotten used to putting everything away instantly. Alexia patiently waits for me to finish before we go downstairs. She talks to me about a room I don’t know yet. We reach the ground floor. I thought we’d go outside, but she leads me to an old wooden double door to the left of the stairs. I hadn’t even noticed it when I arrived, which shows how much attention I paid. I was probably too busy being angry with my mother.

-  "Here we are. This is the students’ common room."

-  "The students’ common room?" I repeat.

-  "Yeah, it’s a large break room where we can do whatever we want during our free time."

-  "I thought it was a prison and we had to go back to our rooms..."

-  "Oh no," she giggles. "You’ll see, it’s not that bad in the end. Just stay out of trouble and they leave us alone."

-  "Hmm..." She opens the wooden door, which seems heavy and rusty given how it creaks. It’s impossible to enter unnoticed.

She gives me yet another smile before entering the room first. I discover a large furnished room. Alexia is probably right. The camp might not be as terrible as it looks. There’s a TV, foosball tables, sofas, tables... Basically, a place to hang out. I think I’m going to like this place. I’m surprised people don’t care about our arrival. I expected to be the center of attention for being the new one arriving in the middle of the year, but apparently not. Everyone continues their activities as if nothing happened. There are bursts of laughter, conversations coming from everywhere, and even people with their noses in their books. I don’t know how they can study in this atmosphere. It’s impossible for me. I need calm to concentrate. The room must be well insulated because I didn’t hear anything from the outside. I come back to reality when Alexia stops in front of already occupied sofas. These must be the friends she talked about. The sofas are arranged facing each other with a small table serving as a footrest. I feel uneasy imagining that this group must have known each other for years.

-  "Hola chicas ! I brought some company!"

-  "Hi," I say timidly.

-  "Hey! You must be the new one? Alba, Alexia’s sister. »

OK, that’s clear. I didn’t expect such a warm welcome. They don’t seem at all bothered to see me, on the contrary. Irene smiles just as much as her sister, it seems. I stop analyzing and give a small smile back, introducing myself. I turn to the other two, who seem just as nice at first glance. According to Alexia, they are two inseparable best friends. Their names are Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. I learn that the group isn’t complete and that two more people will join us for dinner. I hope they’ll be as nice as these guys. Alexia sits next to her sister on the couch and pats the last spot beside her. I join her, and what I feared quickly happens. I’m subjected to a real interrogation about my city, my age, my class, and more. I answer vaguely to the last questions that became too personal. I don’t like revealing myself. They’ll have to be content with my answers. I’m not very brave, especially with strangers. They seem to understand because they go back to normal conversations. I don’t understand much, but at least they stop asking me questions. Alexia takes the trouble to explain some things so I can follow along a bit. It’s a quarter to six when we head to the cafeteria. We have to walk behind the administration building to get there. The cafeteria is a stone building that has been renovated. It looks like a café with its bay windows and a few tables at the entrance. It’s just a dream scene once you go through the second door. Reality hits with a cafeteria more in line with the school’s image. There are many tables and perfectly aligned chairs. I follow my new friends to the left of the room where a line has formed in front of a large buffet with staff to serve us. It’s early, yet there are already some people. I imitate Alexia by taking a tray and cutlery. She explains the process as we go. It’s similar to the canteen I had in high school, but she seems to enjoy explaining it so much that I don’t dare say anything. When our trays are full, I follow her to a table where two people are already seated. I recognize the principal’s daughter, Lotte, I think. I don’t know the other person, who introduces hermself as Leah Williamson. I sit across from Alexia and the girls quickly join us to start a conversation with the two new people. I’m reassured to see that the atmosphere remains the same as before.

-  "You got caught again Leah, ?" Alba mocks.

-  "Yeah... I got more laps around the field."

-  "That’s what happens when you try to skip out," Alexia laughs.

-  "Laps around the field?"

-  "Oh, yeah! Don’t try to defy the instructors," she warns me. "You’ll regret it quickly!"

-  "Hmm, we’ll see."

-  "Do we have a little rebel here?" Leah comments.

-  "No. I just don’t plan on staying locked up here."

-  "Trust me, I’ve tried everything! There’s no way out," she tells me.

-  "I’m sure," I sigh. This school looks like a prison to me, and Leah, seems to share my opinion. She tells me about all the infractions she's committed. She's the rebel of the group. I finally feel understood by someone. She wants the same thing as I do, and yet she's been here for three years. My dismissal might be more complicated than I hoped. She teaches me a lot by sharing all her crazy ideas for driving the instructors mad. She seems pretty funny. I appreciate that they've integrated me into their group so easily. It's as if I've been with them from the beginning. I even find myself feeling sad when it's time to go back to the room. Alexia is an easy-going girl. I shouldn't have any trouble getting along with her, just like her friends. I hope I won't ruin everything by shutting myself off. I answered many questions tonight, but none about my arrival. It must be a taboo subject because no one mentioned their reasons for being here when it was their turn to talk about themselves. At least I didn't shut down during the evening. I feel better than when I arrived since meeting them. I even continue talking with Alexia on our way back to our room when we discover that we are in the same class. It's good news; at least I won't be alone. She's the only one from the group with me, but it's convenient since we share the same room. I'm sure I'll never get lost at least. It's a bit before ten o'clock when Alexia decides it's time to go to bed. I'm disappointed and far from tired since I slept half the day. I try to change her mind until she mentions the word "curfew." I thought this school couldn't get any worse... That's the last straw. If it were up to me, I'd keep chatting, but Alexia has already turned her back in bed. I resign myself to doing the same, turning off the last light in the room. I try to fall asleep, but it's impossible. I turn countless times in my bed, trying to get there. I feel like the night is going to be long...

Tuesday, October 6; 06:00 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I jump when the alarm goes off. Well, more like the alarm clock. Damn! I thank Joan at this moment for training me to wake up energetically. I grumble and pull the blanket over my head when the daylight blinds me. It wasn't there a second ago. I guess it's the work of my roommate who is shaking me energetically.

"Move your ass, Ona! Or you'll get busted!" "Hmm."

I don't even know what time it is, but it's way too early for my little body, especially since I fell asleep at two in the morning. She gives up on getting me out of bed and starts moving around farther away. As for me, I can't react. I'm so exhausted that my body doesn't want to move. I even curl up to try and get my sleep back, which isn't hard to return.

Tuesday, October 6 ; 06:30 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

"GET UP, BATLLE!"

I groan, sinking into my pillow. What's with that voice? It could have been very pleasant to my ears if she hadn't raised her tone like that. I tighten the blanket against my face. Whoever it is, I just want to fall back asleep one more time, but I doubt they'll let me do that.

"You have three seconds. ONE," she starts counting down. "TWO. THREE."

Go to hell. This thought comes straight from my heart, if only she knew. She'll have to lift me if she wants me to get up. It only took a fraction of a second for me to feel a draft followed by a wet sensation. I scream in surprise as water runs down my face. I inwardly call my unknown assailant every name I can think of, never imagining I could think such things about anyone. I don't have time to reply verbally before the mattress I was lying on is yanked out from under me, sending my body crashing to the floor. She dared! She dared to throw me out of bed to get me up! I never thought that phrase I was thinking would take on a literal meaning. I violently extricate myself from the situation to stand up. Now I'm wide awake and she's going to regret her actions.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" I shout. "WHO SAYS I'M NOT CARDIAC!"

A pair of emerald eyes I wasn't expecting is fixed on me. I had already prepared a long speech to unleash, but I'm frozen. Who is this girl? She looks so young. I have to look away to hide my discomfort. I take the opportunity to analyze the room. Alexia is no longer there, and her bed is perfectly made. I think I'm in deep trouble. Maybe I should have listened to Alexia when she shook me awake. I turn my attention back to the only person present. She took advantage of my distraction to move closer. She looks angry while I am completely lost. I can't seem to organize my thoughts in the face of her imposing presence and unwavering gaze. I back away to escape her, but an obstacle prevents me. I look down to find the mattress she overturned earlier. I come back down from my emotional high, remembering her actions. The witch!

"So you're the new one," she begins in a surprisingly calm voice. "Know that if you were cardiac, you wouldn't be here."

"What do you know?" I retort bluntly. "And who are you anyway?"

"Your supervisor," she states sternly. "Keep defying me like that, and you'll be doing ten laps around the field."

I start to laugh nervously. I dare to look her up and down to muster some courage. Her, my supervisor? This must be a joke! She's barely older than me. They seriously put a young girl like her in charge of me? They really underestimate me. This girl is going to crack first. She'll soon regret having me under her care, given the hard time I plan to give her. I'll never manage to address her formally, and I sense it's these little details that will irritate her. She furrows her brows and yanks my arm with a sharp gesture, forcing me to follow her. I almost trip over the mattress in the process. She opens my wardrobe without any shame while I watch her, unable to move. I hate it when people rummage through my stuff. She glances through until she finds what she's looking for. She grabs a pair of black jogging pants and a gray T-shirt that's half too big for me and thrusts them against my chest. I catch them with a grunt. She continues searching lower this time to pull out the black combat boots brought with my uniforms. She places them on top of the pile with a khaki jacket with a military pattern. It's a really awful outfit. I grimace just looking at it. I look like I'm in the army.

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Yes, you are. It's in the regulations," she retorts coldly. "I'll give you five minutes to get ready. Then you'll make your bed properly."

"Dream on! I'm not a maid."

"And do you think I am?!" she snaps. "We're not at your service, Batlle. Here, I'm the one in charge. I give an order, and you follow it, period. Is that clear? So now you will listen to me."

I stay silent, taken aback by her tone. I didn't expect to be dealing with this kind of character. She's more authoritative than she appears, or maybe I just didn't see it coming. She yanks my arm again to drag me to the bathroom door. I reluctantly step inside. I'm going to have a bruise soon if she keeps holding me so firmly every time.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day," she snaps.

I slam the door in her face as a response and even go so far as to lock it for some peace. It's the only door with a lock. Maybe I'm annoying her, but she's annoying me even more. She splashed me with water, threw me on the floor, and keeps yelling at me. I get my revenge by taking my time getting ready. If she thinks I'm going to let her push me around! I start by fixing the mess the water made on my face, then brush my teeth. I then put on eyeliner and mascara after applying some cream and foundation. I finish with the hideous sports outfit. I mustn't let myself be intimidated, or I'm done for. I want to get out of here, and I will succeed, even if it means driving her crazy. I take a deep breath while looking at myself in the mirror. I smile, realizing I was right. My T-shirt under the military jacket is slightly too big. They're lucky I like large T-shirts; otherwise, I would have made a fuss. Time to face the tyrant now. If I could, I'd stay locked in. She might be a more formidable enemy than I initially thought. I gather my courage and unlock the door, putting my hands in my pockets. It's not my usual style, but I want to show her I don't care to irritate her further. My plan seems to be working judging by her tense expression.

-  Fifteen minutes for that? Seriously?! she scolds me in a bored tone.

-  I can take more time if you want... Shall I go back? I suggest mockingly.

-  No way, I must be dreaming, she mutters. Hurry up and clean up this mess instead of mocking me! Bingo, I've managed to irritate the little brunette. I hold back my laughter seeing her like this. It's simpler than I thought. Her finger points towards my bed. Now that I pay attention, there's a huge mess. My mattress is on the floor next to my wardrobe, while my quilt is on the other side.

-  You did this, and I have to clean it up?

-  As far as I know, you didn't get up. I wouldn't have done anything if you had followed the rules. And there she goes again. Does she only know that word? No one ever told me anything. I wasn't even informed there was a curfew and uniforms. So I'm definitely not going to know this damn rule.

-  Rules, rules, I mutter. You only have that word in your mouth. How am I supposed to know if no one tells me anything about these damn rules?!

-  What do you mean, you don't know anything?

-  No one ever told me the rules here. I just arrived yesterday! She remains stoic at my revelation. She seems to be thinking before running her hand through her hair with a sigh.

-  Fine, we'll deal with this problem later. In the meantime, keep a low profile and stop talking back.

-  I'm not talking back.

-  Yes, you are. You just did, and it won't go without consequence. Now, stop being smart and clean up this mess. I won't repeat myself. She points to my bed again with a stern look that doesn't make me want to listen to her at all. Yet she seemed friendly for a second, wanting to help me. Her threats seem serious, so I resign myself to follow her orders, starting with putting the mattress back. I then deal with the quilt, quickly making my bed to get rid of her.

-  There. Happy now?

-  No. She messes up my bed with a brusque gesture. I can't believe it. She must be messing with me; it can't be otherwise.

- Why did you do that? What's your problem?! I made your damn bed!

- Firstly, as far as I know, it's your bed. Secondly, I told you to make it square, and it was far from it. Thirdly, I've already told you to stop talking back, and especially, don't address me informally! Now do it again.

She doesn't bat an eye. She has incredibly controlled coldness. I regret listening to her. Now she knows she can do it again. I've lost this first battle, but my next attack will be even more terrible. For now, I show her my obedience and remake the bed. It doesn't look much different from before. I just tried to make the quilt neater by smoothing it out. I stand up to show her I'm done. She doesn't even bother to examine it before messing it up again.

-  No, stop! It was fine!

-  No, I said square. You will redo it until you get it right.

-  Damn it! I don't even know what a square bed is!

-  That's enough. I've warned you enough. You will immediately tone it down, or things will go very badly between us! A palpable tension arises. She is very intimidating in her stance and severe expressions. I promised myself I would stand up to her, so I must do everything not to look away. I'm supposed to be the queen of the staring contest, but it's hard to hold out against her.

-  Do it again, Batlle, she orders.

-  But I'm telling you I can't do it! I get angry. If it's just for you to ruin my work again, it's out of the question!

-  Then all you need to do is ask. I remain incredulous. I expected a sharp retort. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. Is she mocking me? No way I'm asking her for help! I've never asked anyone for anything, and I'm not starting with her. I've always been free to do as I please. I'm not used to being given orders, let alone asking for help. I quickly had to learn to manage on my own. I bite my cheek as I look at the quilt on the floor. This time it's different. I have no choice but to ask. I don't know how to do it, and she has remarkable composure and patience. She will certainly not be the first to give up. My throat tightens just thinking about the words I'm going to have to say to her.

-  Help me...

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? she reformulates.

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? I repeat.

-  Come here, she says. I approach her to reach the foot of the bed.

- Redo it. I look at her incredulously. She rolls her eyes at my immobility.

- Come on, do it. I'll guide you. Understanding better, I comply. She takes her time explaining each fold to make and corrects me when I'm wrong. Finally, I realize it's not that complicated. It's just going to be annoying to have to

do it every morning as she just announced. I stand up and proudly observe my work when I'm done. It was short-lived as she undoes it again without hesitation. My blood boils quickly.

-  You had no right! It was just how you wanted it!

-  I want you to do it all by yourself, she says calmly. I just told you you'll have to do it every morning, so I want to make sure you can do it without my help. It's by doing it again that you learn, right? I roll my eyes. At least she didn't yell at me this time. I control myself and redo my bed the same way. I succeeded, but it's not as perfect as before. I look at her, waiting for her opinion. She doesn't seem angry or anything.

- There you go. I sigh in relief. Phew! I would have been very upset if she had undone it again.

-  Can I go eat now?

-  You should have gotten up in time for that. The service time is over.

-  You're not going to do this to me? It's not my fault I barely slept last night! Breakfast is sacred; you can't take it away from me!

-  I will, believe me. Think about it tomorrow morning; it might motivate you to get up. In the meantime, I have other plans for you anyway.

-  Oh yeah...? I ask, uncertain.

-  Yes. You and I won't be parting ways this morning.

-  Aren't I supposed to go to class?

-  I'm excusing you. I'm your supervisor, which means I have full authority over you. If I decide you're not going to class, that's my prerogative.

-  Basically, you're my hierarchical priority.

-  Exactly. Me and, of course, the principal. Other instructors are instructed to send you to me in case of any issues with you. I'm going to be the person you'll spend the most time with in the coming days.

-  What luck, I say ironically.

-  I think so too. Follow me now, we're going out. I miss classes, what more could I ask for? I'm wary of her intentions. I don't know her yet, but I've already seen her capabilities, and she's not one to joke around. I follow her through the hallways and stairs. She seems to know exactly where we're going. I understand the need for the jacket once outside. It's much colder than in Miami. I must not be used to it because my supervisor doesn't seem bothered by the weather. Her accent doesn't come from here, though. We're heading away from the dorms. I slow down when I realize her intentions at the sight of the gymnasium and sports fields. I don't think and turn around behind her back. I thought I could sneak away until a firm hand catches me in my tracks. I instinctively close my eyes at the contact. Damn! I should have left when I had

the chance! I try to struggle, but it's no use. She increases the pressure on my arm and drags me with her by force.

-  You won't escape, Batlle.

-  Damn it! I did everything you asked! She stops suddenly, making me bump into her before she turns around. I look up to meet her eyes. Bad idea... She scares me even more than before. I can't step back more than a step due to her grip.

-  Yes, you did, but you mostly talked back and addressed me informally. I'm not your friend, okay? I warned you to stop, and you didn't listen.

-  I won't do it again...

-  Oh no, that's too easy! We both know you'll do it again. If I punish you, it's so you'll think twice next time.

-  I promise I won't do it again! I say in a too confident tone.

-  And yet you're continuing, she raises an eyebrow. I want to retort, but I have no argument. I'm talking back and addressing her informally. Damn, she annoys me! It's not my fault she's young and beautiful! I would have preferred to deal with someone ugly and old. At least I wouldn't have trouble seeing her as my supervisor.

-  Okay, the informal address is going to be tough, but-

-  But what? she cuts me off. You're breaking both things I just told you. Not only are you addressing me informally, but you're also talking back and now negotiating?

-  Sorry, I grumble, powerless.

-  When I tell you to do something, you do it and stay quiet, period. Do we agree?

-  I guess, since I have no choice.

-  Fine. She continues on her way, still dragging me along. If it were up to me, I would break free, but I'm not sure she would appreciate that. At least she's loosened her grip. Just enough that I can't escape. She must be the devil incarnate to be ready to do what she's about to do! She makes me lose all my means and defenses. She's trying to unsettle me with her harsh, angry voice. It will be difficult to contradict her because her tactic is working. She will eat me alive and win if I let her. This wasn't at all in my plans. All I want is to get out of here. I fully intend to do so, with or without her on my back. She won't stop me from going home. We're approaching the grassy field. Doesn't she know it's cold? She releases me once we reach the middle of the field. I look around us. From here, you can see the entire camp space until it's bordered by the stone walls. On the other side, the gym blocks the view of the back. I wanted to turn around to see the buildings behind me, but the snap of fingers in front of my nose dissuades me and brings me back to reality. I refocus my gaze on my supervisor, who is waiting for me.

- You are going to do ten laps of the field.

-  Ten laps of the field? Are you kidding me? I scoff.

-  Hurry up. We'll stay here until you've done them all. Don't even think about leaving; I'll catch you before you make it.

-  That's way too much, ten laps! Do you want my death on your conscience or what?

-  Do you want fifteen maybe? I stay silent. She is capable of increasing the amount if I continue. I head to the edge of the field she indicates, not forgetting to sigh and drag my feet. I can't believe what I'm about to do, but I have no choice. She made it clear that there's no way out. If I start running, there's a good chance she'll catch me in no time if she's a bit enduring. I'm far from being an athlete, and on top of that, she has the home advantage. I don't know the camp well enough to hide somewhere. I could get lost or end up in a dead end by mistake. The worst part of this punishment is that she's watching me from her spot with her arms crossed. As if it wasn't already humiliating enough, she has to supervise me, showing her superiority. I stop after half a lap. I'm completely out of breath. I'm not enduring; it was to be expected. I haven't exercised in at least three years. I try to walk, but even that is difficult.

-  Hey, don't stop, she yells from the middle of the field. I said run, not walk!

-  Let me breathe, damn it! I manage to shout between breaths. This time I stop. I bend forward to rest my hands on my thighs. It's so cold that steam is coming out of my mouth. I thought it couldn't get worse, but I start feeling raindrops. This is hell! I will never get used to Manchester. I'm almost sure it's sunny in Barcelona. Plus, I'm certain she'll make me keep running in the rain. She made it clear we won't move until I'm done. We might be here for a long time given how long I'll take. My breathing is far from normal. My heart is pounding, I have a stitch in my side, and to top it all, I'm sleep-deprived, which doesn't help. When I open my eyes, I see a second pair of combat boots in front of me. A few seconds later, a hand rests on my shoulder.

Straighten up. What now? I manage to say. Can't I even breathe? She places her other hand on my other shoulder. I'm so weak that I don't resist when she pulls me up. Her green eyes are examining me. My condition hasn't improved, and I can't change it. Don't expect better from a former smoker.

- Calm down. Of course you can breathe, but not by bending over. Your body needs to be straight to catch your breath better.

Her hand touches my skin above my chest. It's warm, unlike my body. Her other hand still holds me so I don't literally collapse on her. I close my eyes to enjoy this moment of respite and regain my strength. My supervisor asks me to focus on my breathing and her hand following my body's movements. Then she sets a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling out loud. I focus solely on her voice, and I must admit it's effective. She only lets go once she's sure I'm better.-  Good, now keep running.

-  Can't you see I'm not able to? And it's starting to rain!

-  Of course you can, and it's just a few drops. The cloud is already passing.

-  Please, I barely did half a lap, and I'm completely dead! How do you expect me to do ten? At least lower the number!

-  No, I stick to ten. We have all the time, you have until noon. Stop when you can't go on, and I'll help you. You'll face this sanction more than once from me, so you might as well get used to it now. I grumble to myself at the edge of the field while she returns to her spot. To think I'll have to deal with her in the coming days. I'll die if she orders me to do laps every time. I'm already at the end of my rope now. What will it be like in the end? I sigh before forcing myself to resume running to get this nonsense over with as quickly as possible.

Tuesday, October 6; 12:30 PM - Cafeteria

I'm sprawled out like a pancake on the table. I finished my entire meal. It wasn't very good, but I needed it. My stomach was growling from my punishment and my missed breakfast. At least my supervisor was a bit kind. After my laps around the field, she took me to the cafeteria and got us each a chocolate croissant. I think she felt sorry for my stomach, which was growling loudly after my exercise that ended around nine. We stayed on the field for two hours because of me. I'm exhausted; she completely wore me out. "Are you going to be okay?" Pina asks me. "You don't look well." "Yeah," I mumble into my arms. I lift my head to see that I'm the focus of the table's attention. Do I look so terrible that they have to stare at me like that? I don't need their pity; I hate it. "What?" I snap, more sharply than I intended. "You haven't said anything since we started, and you weren't even in class this morning... It's enough to make anyone worry!" Alexia says. "Where were you this morning, anyway?" I ask. "You weren't in the room when I woke up." "Engen sent me to eat after I told her you were the new girl. She said she'd take care of you; there wasn't much else I could do," she explains. "I'm sorry, but I tried shaking you awake and you wouldn't budge!" I can't blame her. She did her best to wake me up. I sleep heavily, and I'm stubborn when it comes to getting out of bed. If I don't wake up on my own, someone has to jump on me like Joan does, or they have to use the radical method my supervisor employs. I realize that Alexia finally gave me her name. So, she's called Engen? She's a real viper. Speaking of her, she passes by the table right now. I glare at her. I follow her with my eyes as she heads to the line to dispose of her tray. I absolutely have to find a way to get back at her. If I don't, she'll eat me alive, and that's not what I want. I don't want to become a well-behaved student who follows all the rules. That's not me. "Is she one of your supervisors?" Patri asks me. "Yeah, the one on the right," I reply, turning back to the table. "Why?" "Ouch, you hit the jackpot," Leah laughs. "Why?"

"Let's just say she's the worst instructor here. You must have quite a file if Wiegman assigned her to you!" Alba comments.

Her, the worst? She's the youngest employee I've seen so far! Her and her companion. Given what happened this morning, I can believe it. I turn to look at her again. I underestimated her. She's not just some young, insignificant staff member... She's the worst. My mother is certainly behind this. She finishes placing her tray and our eyes meet while she waits for her colleague. Oh, the bitch! She smiles at me! She's mocking me! She must be proud to see me crumpled on the table. If she wants a war, she’ll get one! I let her win one battle, but I won’t let her win the next ones. I turn back to the table. I need to know more about her. I need to know everything, or I'm in big trouble.

"What do you know about her?" I ask.

"Her name is Bronze," Lotte informs me.

"I thought it was Engen? At least, that's who woke me up this morning!"

"No," Alexia laughs. "Engen is the one who accompanies her. She’s in charge of checking the senior floor in the morning. They’re partners, so they’re almost always together."

I try to process this new information. I saw Engen this morning. They share an office for the two of them. It makes more sense now that I know they’re partners.

"If Bronze was assigned as your supervisor, Engen probably called her," Leah says. "Everyone gets an assigned supervisor when they arrive. They’re the only person who takes care of us until we adjust," she explains. "Unless they're not available, which is very rare."

"Let me guess... Bronze is never absent?"

"Very rarely," Patri laughs. "I think it happened once in the three years we've been here."

"Great..." I sigh. "So, you all had a supervisor?"

"When we arrived two and a half years ago, yes," Alba responds. "I had Bright. She’s the second partner who supervises our year along with White."

"I don't know them," I admit.

"It’s our third and final year here, so it’s normal that we know all the rules and people," Lotte says. "You’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"I don’t plan on getting used to it."

"You won’t have a choice with Bronze," Leah chuckles. "I told you we could outwit the instructors, but not the Commander."

"The Commander?" "That's her nickname here," she tells me. "No one can contradict her, not even me." "Well, I'll be the first then."

"Impossible, I’m telling you! Every trick I've found for the others doesn’t work with her! She always... I mean always, has a move ahead of us."

I groan in frustration, letting myself fall back onto the table. Bronze is indeed a demon incarnate. I need to be even more cunning than Leah. It’s very complicated, maybe even impossible.

"Is there anything else I need to know about her, besides the fact that she’s going to make my life a living hell?" I grumble.

"I don't think so," Alba replies. "The instructors don’t talk about their lives. They’re very secretive about it. We don't even know the first names of the new ones."

"Why is that?" "The rules were tightened two years before we arrived." "Okay. So Bronze is the worst?" "The worst of all," Pina confirms. "If we get stuck with her, it’s never a good sign."

So, they’ve figured out that I'm not here for nothing. Fortunately, it’s a taboo topic here. At least I won't be pressured to open up. I like them, but not enough to confide in them when I barely do that with my best friend. I hate my mother, I hate this place. She managed to cut me off from the world. She doesn't understand that I don't want to be anyone's puppet. I just want to be left alone, but that seems like too much to ask. We leave when we’re all done. The stress starts to build as I realize that my first day is approaching. Bronze kept me with her to help with the archiving. I had to go up and down stairs with her, carrying big cardboard boxes. As if the field laps weren’t enough. My legs are jelly because of her. I hope she at least made arrangements with the teachers for this morning. I think she did, but who knows. I sigh as the bell rings. I barely had time to recover from my morning, and now the afternoon is starting. Here’s hoping everything goes well this time.

[grxmreaperx]

omg omg loved your NSFW alphabet , pls write something based on T & U !! 🫣😭

i'm so glad you liked the alphabet!! i've gotten a couple requests for this, so i've combined them into this!

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Porn with a little plot. Use of toys, fingering (f! receiving), lots of dirty talk as usual

Summary: After a couple weeks of Mark working long nights, you decide to take matters into your hands. It doesn’t turn out exactly as you were planning.

“You better behave or you’re not going to like what happens when we get home,” you heard, your boyfriend leaning in close.

You smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not doing anything.”

Before he could respond, Rigg made his way over to you, pulling Mark away to say hi to his wife. Mark had brought you to a work event the head of the department had set up at the precinct. You were more than happy to attend with him; he had been so busy at work lately that you had hardly had any time together the past few weeks. You were becoming frustrated after so many nights spent without him by your side. And this was the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You had purposefully worn the dress you knew was his favorite, knew would get him worked up. He had frozen when he walked into your shared bedroom as you were putting your shoes on.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, eyes fixed on you.

“Yeah. Why, is that a problem?” You gave him an innocent smile.

“No, no problem.” He cleared his throat. “You just, you look really nice.”

You snapped out of your haze as you heard Eric’s voice calling for you. You smiled at him. You had been to a couple of these events with Mark before, and every time he tensed when Matthews paid a bit too much attention to you.

Perfect.

“Hi, Eric,” you said sweetly.

He let out a low whistle. “You look amazing! Hoffman better watch, one slip up and he’s gonna have some competition.”

You chuckled, taking notice of Mark’s gaze on you from across the room.

You put up with Eric’s flirting for a bit, laughing harder than you normally would have at his lines. You spotted Mark making his way over to you, excusing himself from Rigg and a few other officers, when you lightly laid a hand on Eric’s arm.

You felt his arm wrap around your waist as he gave Eric a stiff smile. “Sorry for interrupting, but we’d better get going, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, shifting his eyes to you. You could tell from his grip on your waist and the look in his eye that it wasn’t a request.

“What? Already? But I’m having such a good time, we haven’t even been here that long.”

He smiled at you. “Yeah, but don’t you have an early shift in the morning?” He began gently pulling you towards the exit, not bothering to say another word to his coworker. He leaned in close, lips against your ear, as you two moved towards the door. “Get in the fucking car. You’re in big trouble.”

--

As soon as you two walked through the front door, he was on you, pinning you against the wall. He lightly drug his lips across your neck. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Flirting with that asshole just to get a rise out of me?” He shook his head. “You should know better than that, sweetheart.”

He placed a hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. “I want to go in there, get this pretty dress off, and spread yourself out on the bed for me. I’ll be in in a minute.”

“And what if I don’t?”

He chuckled. “You don’t want to play that game, sweetheart.” He pulled away, and you quickly made your way to your room, following his orders.

You stripped and laid down, waiting eagerly for him. This was exactly what you had been hoping for. You had his full attention, and you loved when he got jealous.

A few minutes later, he sauntered through the door, smirked as he saw how well you had listened. “Oh good, you finally decided not to act like a brat.” He made his way over the nightstand, pulling open the bottom drawer and removing the linen ropes he had bought for you both. You watched intently as he pulled your ankles to the foot of the bed, slowly tying one to each bed post. After he was finished, he removed his belt, pining your arms above your head and wrapping your wrists together. He took a moment to admire his work, examining every inch of you, before moving back towards the nightstand.

This time, he pulled open the top drawer, pulling out your vibrator. Your brows furrowed. He knew you had it, hell, he had bought for you for nights when he couldn’t be there to take care of you, but he had never used it on you.

He saw the look on your face and grinned, tilting his head slightly. “What, you thought you’d get what you want by being a brat? No, no, baby. You want to tease me, make me jealous? Now you’ll have to be patient.”

He climbed onto the bed, settling himself between your legs as he pulled his tie from around his neck. He switched the device on, watching you intently as he roughly pressed it against you. A chuckle escaped his throat as he watched your body jolt slightly, surprised at the sudden sensation.

You let out a moan, grinding your hips, trying to get more friction. He pressed harder, making small circles with the toy around your clit. “Is this what you wanted, baby?”

You shook your head. “Want you…” you groaned.

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before playing your little game tonight, hmm? Bad girls don’t get everything they want.”

You let out a whine, already feeling yourself approaching the edge. Suddenly, he pulled the vibrator away from you.

“What the hell?” you cried.

A smirk spread across his face. “What did I just say? Bad girls don’t get what they want. You want to cum, sweetheart? You gotta work for it.”

You threw your head back, the ache between your legs growing worse and worse. “That’s not fair!”

“You know what’s not fair?” he asked mockingly, pressing the toy back against you. “What’s not fair is that this toy has gotten to touch you more in the past few weeks then I have. And what’s not fair, sweetheart, is that I was planning on treating you so well tonight when we got home. But no, you had to be a brat.”

You felt tears welling in your eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you up, to reach your high with him buried inside you.

He pressed the button again, the vibrations speeding up against your clit. You pulled against your restraints, trying to squeeze your legs together.

“You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asked.

You frantically nodded your head, letting out a stream of yeses. You ground your hips against the machine, feeling yourself getting closer.

The tears fell down your cheeks as he once again pulled the toy away.

“Goddamn it! You’re such an asshole!”

He chuckled. “And you’re such a tease. If you want to cum for me, you have to earn it.”

After a few moments, he turned the toy up to it’s fastest setting and pressed it against you. You writhed on the sheets, tears streaming down your face, desperately trying to find your orgasm before he could pull it away again.

“Please, I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry for teasing you, please just let me cum!”

“Poor baby,” he mocked. “Now you’re sorry. Tell me what you want. You can do better than that.”

You cried out, begging him not to stop, to touch you. You threw your head back, eyes screwed shut, begging for any sort of relief.

You suddenly felt two fingers press into you, roughly pumping in and out. Your cries grew louder, grinding against his hand, toy still working your clit.

“Go on baby, cum all over my fingers.”

You whimpered, the tension finally snapping, nails digging into your palm as you finally got what you had been aching for.

Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He smiled. “I’d be careful if I were you, sweetheart. I’m not done with you yet.”

tag list: @bee-who-isnt-french, @enigmatic-blues, @aliengutzstuff, @slut4hoffman, @schrodingersjigsaw, @hoffmansnightmare, @karmaswitch, @mrs-hotforhoffman, @returntodustsblog, @kujofam, @du1nyurmum

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

Yandere! Serial killer x Sadistic Reader (final part)

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Sadistic behavior, Mentions of Stalking. y’all ik I ask you every post but PLEASE read the note at the end! Part 1 is here part 2 is here. Enjoy!

“What…”

You mean to tell me your best friend of ten years has secretly been conspiring with your stalker!? After all you’ve confided in her, all you trusted her with, the secrets you’ve shared, have been relayed to another person in the twisted name of love!?

“He’s- I-…” she sighs, attempting to regain her composure.

“You remember in 4th grade, when I liked that boy? Evan Daniels? I had the hugest crush on him,” she giggles a bit, snotty and nostalgic.

“I was convinced we’d be together forever; get married, have five kids and two dogs. But that all changed when I confessed. He told me… he told me he liked you. My best friend,” you gotta be joking. All of this just about some guy in elementary school that you don’t even remember!?

“It’s not about that!” she explains harshly, her gaze shifting from sympathetic to something much darker.

“When he told you he liked you, you agreed! You knew how much he meant to me. I got over it sure, but the years after that… nothing ever seemed to change. So I became popular but you did too, I started wearing makeup and so did you, I found my passion and you just so happened to like it too. You were always better than me; hated it! You liked all the attention you got, the praise and looks of adoration. So when I found out what Keegan was doing… why would I try to stop it?” she smiles to herself before looking back up at your glossy eyes. The bright lights of police cars spread through the area and loud voices call out for you.

“How long has this been going on?”

“How long have we been friends?” She smiles. That bitch!

“You were my best friend so it wasn’t hard to give him the information he wanted; killing Gill was just a plus,” she walks closer to you, pushing down on the dirt. Keegan tightens his hold on the axe and narrows his eyes but stops when he sees you glance over to him. “All I’ve been doing was working behind the scenes and guess what, it paid off,”

“I’m sorry things had to turn out this way,” she looks at you one more time before heading into the opposite direction as Keegan advances towards you. There's no way you're letting this slide. Your first move is to jump towards her and push her to the ground, hitting her face in as hard and fast as you can. Despite Keegan's attempts to retrain you, you grab a loose clothes pin from your costume and stab the area near his eye. In the midst of his screams, you sprint through the woods more quickly than ever. Yeah, it's dumb, but with Malika blocking the way of the police and a psychopath standing before you, you had no choice.

As you rushed to hide behind a tree, it felt as if you had been running for years. It's better not to look back, not to make a noise, to remain silent and out of sight, you think to yourself. It makes no sense how you've gotten here. I mean, you know how you got here, but you can’t rack your brain. It does explain why she always tried to sway you from going to any authoritative figure. Why she would grin to herself the handful of times you’ve lost competitions, why she all of sudden had a thing for Gill after you mentioned how cute he was. The blood on your hands fills your nose with the scent of metal and plastic. The air in your lungs has long left and your legs ache from how you sprintied every which way. This is all your fault. Just when you think you’ve reached the end, you hear bright lights shine your way and a voice calls out but when you turn your head Keegan stands before you.

“Found you,” a hand grabs at your ankle and you take the last clothes pin you’ve kept clutched at your side and stab it straight through. They howl and pain and you take this opportunity to dash your way into a different hiding spot. He regains his composure and brushes off the wound like it’s nothing. Following you into the dark before screaming out.

“You can’t hide from me forever, darling. I always know where you are,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

You were his muse.

Ever since freshman year he knew you were the one. It was love at first sight really, you’ve just been placed in Hon Visual Arts Program, seated right next to each other. How could someone be this beautiful! He would always be scribbling in his little sketch book pictures of you in all of your glory. He’d always try to talk to you but that witch you call your best friend took up all your time. You’d talk every once in awhile but never noticed who he truly was and nothing could ever satisfy the craving he had for your love. So, he took it upon himself to fill up various different pages of you; from enjoying your time around campus to painting upon paintings lining the walls of his basement in more lewd positions. However, his favorite artistic liberty was creating faces. I know it sounds weird but the way he could replicate one’s features down to a T was incredible! From paper mache masks, to clay, to porcelain dolls and to your horror, skin.

“Hey, (Y/N)! I was wondering if you could help me with a project of mine? You're the greatest fashion designer I know and I can’t think of anyone else to do this for me,” aw how sweet! Of course you’d help him.

You two worked like dogs the next couple of days, working so much in sync, his movements felt like your own. You felt so comfortable around him and became so close throughout your sessions. Eventually, after the project was done he asked you to hang out after school, no work involved. Coincidentally, that’s when the same eerie notes popped back into your life. You were shocked. How could this happen? You thought this was all over with and pushed it into the deepest part of your mind. You became so paranoid and Keegan picked up on it lighting fast, wonder why.

“Sh, it’s okay. Look at me, baby, look at me. Shh it’s okay, I’m here. I’ll protect you,” you ignored the baby part, to wrapped up in your own anxiety to actually be paying attention to anything other than your safety. It's ironic now that you think about it; the person you trusted the most is now the person you’re currently pulling a Usian Bolt on.

Oof!

You’re tackled to the ground and before you could react, your hands are tied behind your back and his axe pins your shirt to the wooden stump behind you. He’s out of breath and panting, hands coming down to rest on your waist. He straddles you and you struggle before he knocks you out cold. He sighs hauling your body over his shoulder and dragging his weapon behind him. His large frame somehow goes undetected through all the chaos he’s created.

“Why are you always running from me, Darling?”

………………………………………………………………………………….

It’s dark and cold and the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own heavy breathing. Fuck! Why is this happening?! What did you ever do that deserves this? The weighted sounds of boots from the floor above grow closer as someone descends down the stairs. Soon, your blindfold is ripped off but the gag in your mouth remains. It’s him. He looks at you sympathetically, like a puppy who knows they’ve done something bad but couldn’t stop itself. Right next to him stands Malika, battered and bruised from your assault. You take in your surroundings, and as she flicks the light on you see it. A shrine filled with you, and I mean that quite literally. From your hair to used panties and explicit photos. Some are from the earliest years of highschool and some are as recent as last week.

However, what really catches your attention is the mural on the old brick wall behind them. A empty mannequin standing front and center waiting to be dressed. There, the faces of all you once knew lie. From Mr. Sicowutz- the teacher that lead you to this death trap- to the freshly scalped features of Gill and his side piece.

“I’ll admit, you really did a number on me. I never would’ve expected that from you,” she says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Stepping closer she winds her hand back and hits you as hard as she can, rendering you even more less concise than you were before. Again, Keegan fits the handle of his weapon at the sight of her touch but does not say anything.

“I loved you, (Y/N). I really did. But after all, you’ve took from me? I could never forgive you. Goodbye,” with that said the axe swings down on her back, slicing straight through the skin and muscles. Oh, you didn’t think this was the end did you? She lays on the ground and does nothing but watch as you're freed from your binds. Keegan rubs the bruise she left on you face and attempts to massage your tender wrists but you brush him off.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You really had me questioning myself for a second, Malika. I didn’t know if I could go through with this but, we all need a reality check every once in a while,” She stares wide-eyed before croaking out a small “how?”

“Oh c’mon, you really think I didn’t know? Just like you said, I’m better than you; always two steps ahead. I’m not stupid. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, I really did,” she still looks confused attempting to crawl away but Keegan picks her up and places her on a hook attached to the wall. She looks even more confused so you give her the explanation she rightly deserves.

“It all clicked to me when I realized how much you encouraged me to go to my that last school. How, when I brought up the letters again you acted like you didn’t know what I meant. How you smiled like a Cheshire when Gill rejected me,” Keegan scoffs at the last part but all you do is smile.

“I dug a little deeper and found out the truth. He told me everything. Neither of you are good liars. So like the good puppy he is ,” you say, grabbing his chin bringing him down to rub his head, kissing his cheek lovingly.

“He helped me with a plan. I was the one who dragged you here. Who made you think you had the upper hand, let you carry on with this delusion of yours,” you snatch the axe from his hands before swinging it above your shoulder.

“I loved you, Malika. I really did. But after all, you put me through. I couldn’t ever forgive you. Goodbye,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“The anniversary of what is now being called the “ Mayham Massacre” at the annual Freak do Shek carnival is this coming Halloween night. (Y/N) (L/)- Victim and former schoolmate of the killer known as “The Mask Maker” speaks about their experience with the crazed lunatic and how they feel with the reopening of the festival. Here’s Jim Saltovy reporting live”

“Thank you Carla’s. So, M(r/rs/s/x) (L/N) how did you know him?”

“Well it all started in highschool when me and my dear friend Malika were transferred to an art class. I-“

This channel is boring. Hm… is there anything else to watch? Oh I know, some good ol cartoons! As he lays his head in your lap snuggling closer, you finish the last details of your mask for this year. Albeit a little slimey, it’s just how you remembered to be. Somehow managing to make it out of his grip, you stumble down into the basement . Placing the mask in the finnish costume, you smile.

“Perfect,” you say shutting off the lights and making your way back up straits where your crazed lover awaits. She may have always hated being I second but this year she’ll definitely be first.

Hey y’all! I wanted to start off by saying I hope you enjoyed my Halloween special! It took a lot outta me. I did become lazy at the end so… yea. I wrote and edited this part all in 1 day 😭. I also recognize that the dynamic between reader and yandere isn’t touched upon as much besides backstory and that’s on purpose. I was experimenting with a third party character that’s not the main or y/n for future story’s. This was based off the movie Hell Fest, so go check it out if you want to; I think it’s on Netflix still idk.

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire

Jake finds himself enamoured with an enigmatic woman at the bar, wanting to do whatever he can to get to know her. Unfortunately, circumstance seems to stand in the way of fate, leaving him wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to love her, or if she’ll remain solely a memory.

Read part two here

Listen while reading: witchy woman - eagles

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, bars, smoking, frat boys, creepy/mean ex-boyfriends, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, touch of physical violence, sorry if i miss any!!

aha! jake mini-series!! not sure how long this will turn out to be, so stay tuned i guess! also, if you can, i suggest listening to witchy woman by eagles while reading :) as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

~

Music was pounding through the sound system, bouncing off every body that was present on the dance floor. It wasn’t particularly good, but you were certain that you could get drunk enough to enjoy it. You’d only been inside the bar for a moment, but somehow your friends had already disappeared into the crowd, leaving no indication on where they could’ve went. You paid no mind to it, knowing they would show up sooner rather than later. You pushed your way through the crowd to get to the bar, earning some strange looks. When you landed in front of the wooden countertop, you were a bit out of breath and eager to start drinking. The familiar bartender looked to you, giving you a smile.

“Hey, Mike.” You greeted.

“Was wondering when I’d see your face back here.” He pulled a glass from under the counter.

“Roommates finally let me out of house arrest. Did enough chores to make up for the last time we were here.” You joked. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt fighting like that.” He scolded. The last time you’d been at the bar, you’d gotten in a physical altercation with a frat boy who’d been bothering a girl. You’d never been scared to throw a punch or speak up. Growing up with four brothers really taught you a thing or two about how to fight. Your quick temper seemed to get you into trouble, but thankfully this particular bar staff knew you only got physical if deserved. They didn’t care, because they didn’t want people like that in their bar any more than you did.

“No faith in me, Mikey?” You asked. He slid a drink towards you. You picked it up, taking a sip. “Jack and coke?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Had to go with your second favourite, apparently that fireball gets you feisty.” He grinned.

“I don’t think it was the fireball, baby.” You confided. “I was actually applying for the bouncer position, anyway. You guys don’t seem to want to hire me; figured I just needed to show off my skills.”

“If you were the bouncer, I don’t think anybody would get through the front doors.” He chuckled. “Plus, if we had to pay you to be here, we’d lose out on all our profit.” You laughed as you pulled a twenty out of your purse. As you handed it over to him, he waved you off. “First ones on us, we missed you.” You shoved it back in your purse, pulling out a ten instead.

“Fine, here’s a tip, I missed you too.” You left it on the counter, grabbing your glass. “Oh, and put some better music on. I don’t want my favourite dive bar turning into a club.” He let out another laugh, throwing his head back as he did so.

“Will do, spitfire.” He moved on to the next customer as you turned around, losing yourself in the crowd. The boy on the stool next to you stared at the spot you’d been standing moments before, turning his head to watch you weave into the mess of bodies. He turned back to the bartender, who was making his way over to him. “Refill?” He asked the boy, nodding towards his empty glass.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. Mike pulled down a bottle of whiskey from the display, filling a glass with ice and pouring the liquor atop it. “What’s that girls name?” He asked. Mike looked up at him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

“The one who was just there?” He nodded his head towards the empty spot beside the boy. He gave a nod. “Y/n,” he answered “but if you think you’re interested, tread carefully, man. She’s something else.” The bartender smirked.

“You seem to know her pretty well. Could you put in a good word for me?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Mike questioned, placing his drink in front of him and taking his used glass away.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, reaching a hand across the bar. “And you’re Mike?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I own the place.” He smiled. “I’ll try my best to send her your way, but no promises. I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a force to be reckoned with. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants to. I’ve never been able to reason with her.”

“‘Preciate it, man. I think I can handle her.” Jake smiled. Mike let out a laugh, knowing the boy was maybe a bit too confident in himself.

“Whatever you say.”

Back on the dance floor, you’d found yourself surrounded by a group of people you’d never met before, but seemed like they knew how to have fun. You’d finished dancing with one of the girls, blowing her a kiss as you continued on your journey through the sea of drunkards. A familiar head of red hair caught your attention. You pushed past a pair of frat boys, giving a scowl as you did so. They were your least favourite type of people, and the university you’d been attending was full of them. You caught up to your friend, grabbing onto her arm before she could slip away again.

“Hi!” Eve exclaimed, smile lighting up the room. “I didn’t know where you went!”

“Had to go say hello to Mike!” You shouted back. “Where is everyone else?”

“I think Ally’s doing blow in the bathroom.” She giggled. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course she is.” You were a party animal, but even you had to admit that Ally, one of your roommates, definitely had a problem that she wasn’t willing to deal with yet.

“Ben’s probably guarding the bathroom door for her,” you nodded. Ben was Ally’s boyfriend, always making sure she was safe. You liked him; he wasn’t necessarily overbearing with her. He never stopped her from doing what she wanted, but just made sure she was protected while she was doing it. “And I think the rest of them are over playing pool.”

“And you and I are gonna dance.” You smiled, grabbing her hand and twirling her around. She let out a laugh, reciprocating the action. The two of you moved your hips in time with the music, dancing on each other and sipping at your drinks. From behind you, a wolf-whistle sounded. You straightened up, spinning around to see a guy you’d seen around campus a few times. You gave him a glare, flipping him off in the process. He rolled his eyes at you, turning to look the other way. “Asshole.” You muttered, bringing your glass to your lips and finishing the rest of the drink in one gulp. “Come on, let’s go get another.” You ushered her along. The two of you stepped down the stairs leading back to the main floor, catching sight of your third roommate. “Ally!” You shouted, waving her over. Her head whipped around, following the sound of your voice immediately. She gave you a grin as she joined you, hooking her arm through yours. “Hello, sunshine.” You greeted.

“Fancy meeting you here.” She jittered. You had to laugh.

“Let me buy you a drink, sugar.” You gave her a small yank towards the bar. You pooled into some stools, all scooting your chairs closer together. Mike made his way over to you, a towel over his shoulder. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward and giving a disapproving sigh.

“You troublemakers are back again?” You gave him a sweet smile. He was an attractive guy; a bit older, but very good looking for his age. He had his head shaved and tattoos littered his arms. You always played the flirting game with him, knowing you’d let him take you home under the right circumstances. Still, you enjoyed drinking there far too much to ruin it over a quick fuck.

“Couldn’t stay away from you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What are you having this time?”

“I’m thinking shots. What about you, ladies?” You asked. They gave a collective nod. “Six jägerbombs.” He obliged, grabbing a can of red bull and the dreaded green bottle. He poured out six, placing two in front of all of you.

“Oh, there’s a guy over there that seems particularly interested in you, too.” Mike said, nodding in the direction of a booth behind you. You raised an eyebrow, giving a smirk.

“Trying to pawn me off on some poor patron?” You asked. He shook his head.

“I’m just relaying the message, sweetheart.” You turned around, seeing a group of boys sitting together. Your eyes scanned them, taking in each one of them individually. One had long curly, dark hair and a sweet smile. He looked different than the other three, who all seemed a bit similar. There was a lankier, taller boy who sat next to the curly haired one. He had a bit of facial hair growing in and long, brown hair that barely had a wave to it. On the other side of the booth, there were two boys who looked quite similar. One had short fluffy hair, shaved down on the sides and a grin that never left his face. The boy beside him had long hair, too, but his aura looked a little darker. His smile wasn’t as wide when it crossed his face, and he looked a little stoned.

They must be twins, you thought.

They were all good looking; you wouldn’t mind taking any one of them home, but that wasn’t your intentions lately. Boys, and girls, for that matter, were not your peak interest. Too much drama, too much effort. You liked drinking and having fun. Freedom was great and you used all of your time not spent with your friends, studying. You didn’t need someone to drag you down. Still, out of curiosity, you had to ask. “Is it sunshine and rainbows, or dark and broody?” You turned around, a laugh on your lips.

“Dark and broody,” Mike chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Come on, you know me well enough by now. I know everything.” You took the first shot, feeling the warmth flood your chest for a second. It was quickly washed away by the carbonated drink. “He is cute, though. But I’m not interested in wasting my time.” You sighed.

“Y/n, he’s gorgeous. You have to go talk to him, at least.” Ally pleaded.

“Take your shots and maybe I’ll think about it.” You brushed her off.

“He seemed to really like you, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Seemed like a nice guy.” Mike offered, throwing another drink in front of you before he stalked off to serve another group of people. You thought about it for a moment, taking another look over your shoulder at the guy. You found he was already looking at you. He gave a small smile, to which you returned.

“You know, maybe it would be good for you. You haven’t even so much as looked at anyone since the last asshole.” Eve said. You shrugged.

“For good reason.” You kept it short and sweet, not wanting to get into it now.

“Just give him a chance, y/n. You never know.” She took both of her shots back to back without a flinch in sight.

“Oh, I know,” you rolled your eyes. “All guys are the same. They just want to fuck and ruin your life, then act like it never happened.” You stood again, grabbing your drink. The two girls shuffled to their feet, following after you. You made your way to the pool tables, taking a seat on the side of one the rest of your group was playing on. Ally’s boyfriend shooed you off without any hesitation, completely used to your antics. You jumped off, now watching the game they were playing. Ben and his roommate were playing together, and they were down to the 8-ball. The tension seemed a bit high; they always contested each other in pool. It was their version of a pissing contest. You had learned not to comment on it.

The mood shifted in the air suddenly. Mike had adhered to your request, changing up the music. Overhead, the opening notes of Witchy Woman by Eagles sounded, sending a jolt of energy through you. “Thanks, Mike!” You yelled over to the bar. He looked up, giving you a wink.

From the booth the group of boys sat at, Jake looked over at you, pleasantly surprised that you’d requested the music change. You were singing the song to Eve, and she was dancing to your voice. Jake admired the way your hips moved, the life behind your eyes, and the heart you were putting into the performance. “Go talk to her, man.” Josh elbowed his brother in the side. Jake snapped out of his trance, looking over to his twin.

“Oh, no,” he shook his head. “I don’t want to bother her. She looks like she’s having fun.” In reality, he was nervous. He’d never met a girl who affected him quite like you did. Your whole aura drew him in, like you’d casted a spell on him. The way you were so openly you and not afraid to show it was enchanting, and new. Not many people were like that. He thought your song choice had been fantastic, because if he had to pick a song to describe you, it would have been that one.

“Just ask to buy her a drink; she looks friendly enough.” Sam said, now looking back over his shoulder to get a glance at you. Jake took a deep breath, nodding his head once.

“Yeah, okay.” He stood, throwing back the last of his whiskey and advancing towards you. You caught sight of him as he was approaching, finding your breath catch in your throat. He was really good looking, and even better up close. He gave you another smile when you caught his eye. You stopped dancing, trying to channel a bit of your confidence that you’d lost momentarily. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I could almost believe they wrote this song about you.” He spoke once he got close enough to you. You gave him a smirk.

“Flattering,” you looked him up and down. He was wearing dark jeans; you couldn’t tell exactly what colour they were due to the dim light, but they looked black. He had a dark blue button up on, only the bottom few buttons fastened together. The sleeves were cuffed at his elbows. His chest was tan, the skin looked soft and was inviting you in. His neck adorned a few chains, one with a pendant hanging from it. You couldn’t get a good look at it. He had dark features: brown hair, brown eyes and dark eyebrows. He was beautiful, and definitely had a good music taste for knowing the song, but you weren’t willing to fall for it. You were certain there had to be a catch. “What brings you to my side of the bar?”

“You,” he was blunt. You hated to admit it, but you liked it. His eyes scanned your face, taking in your red lipstick in particular. He wasn’t disrespectful with his gaze, though. It never fell below your shoulders. “I couldn’t let you leave without at least introducing myself.” You gave a chuckle.

“Trust me baby, I’m not leaving any time soon. They shut the bar down when I’m ready to go.” His heart sped at the pet name. “Now, tell me what you really wanted.”

“I wanted to buy you a drink.” His confidence was non-existent, but he attempted to sound sure of himself, anyway. “A woman with a music taste like yours is certainly deserving of a beverage of her choice.” You softened your stare, easing up on him a bit.

“I guess that depends on what drink you had in mind.”

“You don’t strike me as a bottom shelf kind of lady.” He let out a small laugh.

“You got me there.” You smiled. “I think-“

“She’d love to have a drink with you!” Ally cut in, earning a glare from you.

“Come on, Ally, you didn’t even let me intimidate him first.” You rolled your eyes, making a quick joke.

“He looked pretty scared to me.” She giggled. You looked back at the boy, shrugging.

“I guess he does.” Jake let out a nervous chuckle. “Come on, pretty boy, let’s go get a drink.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind you. When you reached the counter, he pulled a bar chair out for you, letting you sit down first. He took a seat beside you, turning to look at you.

“So, witchy woman,” he smirked “what’s your name?”

“Hm, I think I like that name better.” You grinned.

“Come on, I’m sure that pretty face has an even prettier name.”

“Y/n,” you said, crossing your legs. “What about you, mystery man?”

“Jake.” He told you. You looked at him for a moment, slowly nodding your head.

“That fits. You look like a Jacob.” He laughed.

“I do?”

“Yeah, I mean, not in a bad way or anything, you just look like a Jake.” You stated, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Noted.” he replied. Mike stopped in front of the two of you. “I’ll get the same as earlier,” he looked to you “and one of whatever this beautiful lady has been getting all night.”

“Lady is a strong word for this one.” Mike chuckled.

“How rude, Mike. I may just have to leave a bad review.” You snipped. He waved you off.

“You love me too much for that.”

“You’re right, I do. I can’t get this cheap of a drunk anywhere else. Glad to see you referred to my Spotify playlist for tonight.” You mentioned, hearing a Cream song begin to play.

“It was too good not to play.” You watched as he poured the drinks. “I should pay you instead of the shitty DJ’s they bring in.”

“Hey, twenty bucks is twenty bucks.” You sent another wink in his direction.

“You think I pay them that much?” The three of you let out a chorus of laughs. He handed you both your respective drinks.

“Add them to my tab, please.” Jake told him. Mike gave a nod. “And all of her drinks for the rest of the night.” He added. You gave him an incredulous look.

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed “that’s very kind of you, but I won’t do that to you.”

“I don’t mind, really.” He assured you. Mike gave him a look of warning.

“She’ll drink you broke, buddy.” He told the boy.

“It’d be worth it, then.” Mike gave a shrug, walking away and doing as he was told without another protest.

“Jake, you really don’t have to-“

“I want to.” He cut you off, a tone of finality in his voice. You closed your mouth, pleasantly surprised at the authority. Usually, it would irk you, but from him, it was more than alright. You sipped your drink before the conversation continued. “So, what do you do for a living?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m in school right now, actually.” Now that you were looking at him, you were realizing he might have been a bit older than you. You’d never seen him around the town, or the campus. He was a mystery waiting to be discovered.

“What are you taking?” He asked, eyes never leaving you.

“What do you think I’m taking?” You figured it would be fun to play with him a bit. He studied you for a moment, trying to pry into your brain.

“Something science-y.” He deducted. You were impressed.

“Yeah, actually.” You smiled.

“Biology?” You nodded.

“Well, sort of.” You gave a small laugh. “Chemical engineering. Moving on to biomedical engineering for my masters.” His eyes widened at your statement.

“So you’re a genius, too?” He asked.

“If you want to say that, sure.” You played into it. “What about you, Jacob?”

“I’m a musician.” You narrowed your stare at him.

“Any good?”

“I’d like to think so,” he responded, eyes crinkling with the upturn of his lips. “I guess I’ll have to show you sometime so you can judge for yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You trailed off. “So that’s why you have such a good taste in music, then?” He gave a small shrug.

“I grew up on the type of music you like.” Was all he replied.

“So you play rock music?”

“Modern rock, yeah.”

“That’s actually really cool.” You admitted. “You play guitar, don’t you?” He nodded.

“How’d you know?”

“Woman’s intuition, if you may.” You scooted your chair closer to him. He welcomed it, doing the same. “So you’re just passing through town, then?”

“Yeah, we had a show here last night. We’re gonna be here for a couple days, though.” He was much more intriguing than you’d originally pegged him for.

“Where’s home for you, then?” You pried, genuinely wanting to know him now.

“Michigan.” He answered, setting his glass back on the countertop. “You?”

“Washington.” You replied.

“You’re a long way from home, then.” He noted.

“Well, I couldn’t really turn down a scholarship from John Hopkins.” You practically scoffed. “My parents would have killed me if I did.” You laughed.

“Yeah, fair enough.” He conceded. “How far along are you?” He asked.

“I’m in my third year of my undergrad. I’m finishing up my bachelor’s early, then I’m starting my masters in the fall.” Jake was blown away at your words.

“You amaze me.” His expression showed nothing short of admiration.

“I guess I can add ‘impressing celebrities’ to my resume.” You smirked, leaning forward slightly. Perhaps it was the alcohol lowering your common sense, but he looked very good, and you’d likely never see him again. It was a win-win for you. “I think I’d like to make your time in Maryland memorable, Jake the rockstar.”

“You already have, Y/n the engineer.” He was leaning in now, too.

“Oh, so you don’t want to kiss me?” You teased. Your noses were practically touching, the smell of whiskey on his breath was driving you crazy.

“No, I would love to kiss you.” He assured you.

“What are you waiting for, Jacob?” Before you could say anything else, his mouth was on yours, desperate to know what you tasted like. It was heated, both of you tipsy and fuelled by attraction, but it wasn’t sloppy. When you pulled away, you giggled at the lipstick that stained his lips. “Reds your colour, I think.” You wiped away the smudge with your thumb. He couldn’t hold back his smile, placing a kiss to the pad of your finger.

“You think so?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. But, in your true nature, you stood, cutting the moment short. “Come find me before you leave, rockstar.” You placed another kiss on his lips, walking away without another word. He followed you with his eyes, dumbfounded at the sight of you walking away. He watched you until you disappeared back into the sea of people, not sure if he should follow or not.

You ventured back to the pool table, joining your friends once more. They didn’t notice you right away, but when the girls caught sight of you, they had a shock at your smudged lipstick. Instead of explaining, you grabbed a pool cue and started up another game after convincing one of the boys to go buy a round of shots.

Jake joined his brothers in the booth, wordless and still trying to comprehend the interaction you’d shared with him moments before. “How did that go?” Josh snickered.

“I… I don’t know.” He said. “I mean, she kissed me, then she just… left.” His twin reached out and gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Maybe you’re a bad kisser,” Sam chirped, earning a pointed look from his eldest brother.

“Did she say anything else?” Josh questioned.

“She told me to find her before I leave.”

“Well that’s not a bad thing, then!” He exclaimed, trying to cheer him up.

“I don’t know, man. I’ve never met anyone like her before. I’m scared I might’ve blown my shot.” He sighed, swirling the ice around in his cup.

“You’ll just have to find her, later.” Sam shrugged. “Then you’ll know for sure.”

Back at the pool table, you were on your last solid ball, eyes already on the 8-ball and planning your victory. You lined up your shot, guiding the cue through your fingers and knocking it into the cue ball. It bounced into the orange one, hitting it against the corner and rolling it back into a corner pocket. You gave a smirk of triumph at Ben’s roommate, who still had three balls left to sink. He said nothing, barely willing to make eye contact with you before you took aim again. You shot at the black ball, eyes following it carefully as it landed in the hole without issue. You placed your cue on the table and gave your opponent a sweet smile.

“I’ll take another Jack and Coke. Make it a double, honey.” You told him. Instead of arguing, he placed his own stick down and nodded, walking to the bar without another word. While waiting for him to return, you checked your makeup in your phone camera. You pulled out a tube of lipstick, reapplying it in the places it had worn off. When your refill was brought back to you, you thanked the boy and turned to your own roommates. “I’m going outside, anyone joining?” You asked. The girls nodded, grabbing their drinks. They scuttled behind you as you made your move toward the door. The bouncer caught sight of the drink in your hand and moved in front of the exit before you could get outside.

“You can’t bring that out there, y/n.” He told you.

“Oh, come on. You know I’m coming right back in.” You bargained with him. He didn’t budge. You put on a little bit of an act, letting an innocent look fall over your features. “You know, a lady is never supposed to leave her drink unattended. You never know what could happen.” He faltered, shaking his head, knowing he wasn’t going to win the argument.

“Fine, but make it quick. Don’t let Mike see you, either.” He warned.

“You know he couldn’t stay mad at me.” You reminded.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he chuckled. You blew him a kiss as you passed by, Ally and Eve following close behind.

The night was cool, but it felt nice after being inside the warm bar. The exposed skin on your legs filled with goosebumps at the sudden breeze, but you paid no mind to it. You handed one of the girls your drink, pulling a cigarette pack out of your purse. You took one between your lips, offering it around to the others. They each took one, mimicking your actions. You took your lighter and lit all of them, slipping it back into your bra. You took your drink back, letting out a long exhale of smoke. “You guys having fun?” You asked.

“I’d be having more fun if you could set me up with one of mystery boy’s brothers.” Eve said. You gave a low chuckle.

“You can have mystery boy, too.” You flicked off the ash that was accumulating on the end of your cigarette.

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Ally asked, eyes wide.

“Nothing,” you shrugged “he was a good kisser, probably a good lay, too. Just not looking for anything like that.” You were lying. You were very into him, even before he’d kissed you. If it were with him, you’d be willing to try another relationship. You barely knew the guy, but he had an effect on you you’d never felt before. You knew if he walked out of the bar and joined you, he’d have you wrapped around his finger, and you didn’t like that feeling.

“Babe, he may be a fantastic guy. He seems really into you. I think you should give him a chance.” Eve pushed.

“I told you, not interested.” You replied, leaving it at that. “He’s a musician, anyway. Best case scenario, I fall for him and I get to see him twice a year. Doesn’t sound fantastic to me.”

“No, y/n, the best case scenario is you get to know each other and he treats you really well. Maybe he’d even take you across the world with him.” Ally interjected. You scoffed.

“As if I have time to travel across the world with a horny rockstar.”

“Don’t let you-know-who ruin this for you.” Eve warned.

“I don’t want to talk about him; how I feel has nothing to do with him.” You snapped. She knew your ex-boyfriend was an off-limit topic. She conceded, still knowing that you weren’t being 100% truthful. He’d really fucked you up, and was still trying his best to make you miserable months after your dramatic end by following you around, blowing up your phone non-stop, and ruining any new, blossoming relationships before they could amount to anything. You wanted nothing more to do with him after your caught him hooking up with a sorority girl at a house party, and that was one of the lesser injustices he’d committed against you in the time of your relationship. You were surprised he hadn’t shown up at the bar, yet, just to disturb your night. The cigarettes were slowly dwindling to an end and the tension had yet to subside. “I’m going to have another one, I’ll meet you guys in there.” They nodded, departing back into the building. They were well aware you just needed a minute alone; you’d be fine by the time you went back inside.

You lit another cigarette, leaning back against the building with no real thoughts. You watched the passerby’s, wondering quietly about what was going on in their heads. People were fascinating. It was always strange to think that every person that passed by had their own stories, thoughts and dreams. At face value, they were just bodies. You couldn’t begin to fathom the amount of memories and tales each person that walked by held in their minds.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice broke you out of your own mind. You looked up to see the same blue button-up and black jeans from earlier.

“Following me, rockstar?” You smiled. He shook his head, holding up his own pack of cigarettes.

“Just luck.” He leaned against the wall next to you, not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough to make your heart flutter.

“Guess so,” your usually witty comments seemed to be lost. The liquor coursing through your veins seemed to be making the decisions rather than your conscious mind, now. All you knew was that he was gorgeous, and you’d never have to see him again after the night was through. You hated that you were so back-and-fourth with your own mind, but you couldn’t help it. Those were your only justifications for what you said next. “Do you plan on taking me home tonight, Jacob?” You turned your head slightly, peeking at him through the corner of your eye.

“If you’ll let me.” He looked at you, now.

“I think that would be alright.” You said, turning your body towards him. He mimicked you, eyes finally fully landing on your face. He let out a shaky breath, stunned by your beauty. He thought he’d never get to experience it that close to him again. Without another word, you threw your cigarette to the ground and pulled him in by his shirt collar, landing your lips on his for the second time that night.

His hand shot to your hip, pulling you into him. Your tongue darted over his bottom lip, begging him to open his mouth. He did so without hesitation, knowing that he’d take you right there if it meant he got to have you at all. You were lost in the feeling, the taste of him intoxicating you more than any of the liquor you’d drank that night. You felt as though nothing could break your focus from the beautiful boy in front of you. But, all things come to an end, and in this case, it was by your name being called frantically.

“Hey, sorry to break up the moment, but we’ve got a problem.” Both of your roommates were in front of you, wide eyed and anxious. You were still coming back to reality, confusion etched in your features.

“What is it?” You finally mustered, taking a step back from Jake, who also looked very disgruntled.

“He’s here. He saw us, and he’s looking for you.” Your expression turned stone cold. Jake looked between you and the girls he didn’t know the name of, silently begging for someone to tell him what was going on. “We have to go.” They tried to usher you away, but you kept your feet planted to the ground.

“Let him find me.” There was no shakiness in your tone; you were serious, almost eager for him to come outside.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Ally said, shifting on her feet.

“I think it is.” You brought you drink to your lips, draining the last of the liquid into your mouth and swallowing it down. “This is my bar.” You reminded them.

“Okay, hold on,” Jake said, intervening now. “What isn’t a good idea?” With that, the front door to the building opened and a boy stepped outside, eyes immediately settling on you. You took a step forward, a smile twisting on your face.

“Finally found me, then?” You handed your glass off to one of your roommates, not looking to see who grabbed it. His eyes were menacing, but they had never scared you before, and they certainly weren’t, now.

“Didn’t have to look very hard.” He took a step towards you. Jake was watching, still unsure of the situation. He looked to the other two girls for an answer, but they weren’t paying any attention to him. “Just had to find the sluttiest outfit at the shittiest bar.”

“This is getting pretty pathetic, Aaron.” You crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a look of disdain.

“It’s been months. You won’t speak to me, you won’t answer my calls, you won’t even fucking look at me when we pass each other on the street.”

“I wonder why,” you rolled your eyes. “We broke up. You were an asshole, I left. Get over it.” You snapped. “Stop following me around to the bars and waiting for me outside of my apartment complex. It’s creepy; get a fucking life.”

“Maybe I would stop if you would just talk to me! I just want to have a conversation, maybe figure this out.” You scoffed.

“No, I don’t think we’ll be ‘figuring this out’ any time soon. Or ever, really. Take the fucking hint and move on. Or get some help, preferably.” He took a step towards you, a look of warning crossing his features.

“Don’t speak to me like that.” His voice was low.

“Should we stop her?” Jake whispered to your roommates, wondering if they were really going to let you take on a guy two times your size all on your own. They both looked back at him, having to bite back a grin.

“Honey, if you’re really interested in her, you’ve gotta understand: nobody can stop her. Most we can do is cheer her on.” The red-head explained. He was still nervous, looking at you and the unknown guy. He was towering over you, but you had no intent on backing down.

“Should we help her, then?” He asked.

“I promise, she doesn’t need any help.” The blonde one spoke now, a ghost of a laugh lingering in her tone. Jake backed down, deciding it was best to just watch how things played out before getting involved.

“You don’t even have the decency to give me any closure, and I come out here and see you whoring around with,” he looked at Jake for a moment. You could see the gears turning in his head while he searched for a good insult. “Van Halen wannabe?” You almost giggled at his shitty pass at Jake.

“At least the Van Halen wannabe could get me off if he wanted to.” You cackled. Your roommates gave Jake a pat on the back, reassuring him that it was alright. He wasn’t even paying attention to the insult thrown at him, more worried about you. There was quite a crowd forming now, everyone wanting to see what the fuss was about. Although, Jake did happen to notice, everybody was looking at the boy as if they were scared for him.

“Sure, you’re laughing now, but you won’t be when you realize he won’t stick around, either. You’re not worth much more than a quick fuck. He’ll realize that pretty soon, too.” The demeanour shifted quickly. You were no longer in a mood to throw insults back and fourth all night. You were itching for a fight. “You can spit out insults all you want, but it won’t change the fact that you’ll end up alone. Wasn’t hard to find someone better. All I had to do was bring home the first girl I saw at that party.” Your vision turned red, furious at the thought he’d even bring up that night. Your hands were vibrating, fuelled with rage at the sight of him, now.

Before anyone could do anything to stop it, your arm raised, hand balled as tight as you could get it, and you swung at his face. Your fist connected with his nose, knocking him backwards. He stumbled, hand coming up to grab where you’d hit him. “Sure, Aaron.” You shook your hand out, barely paying any mind to the stinging. “If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night, keep it up! But if you’re going to lie about it, you can at least leave me alone. Hard to believe you can find someone better when you’re still chasing after me like a lost puppy.” You gave him a sweet smile. He had straightened up and approached you again, about to open his mouth for another jab. Before he could, you moved swiftly, landing another punch to his face. “Now do me a favour and stay the fuck away from me.” It felt nice. You’d been waiting to do that for a long time, finally happy the perfect moment had presented itself.

By that point, the bouncer had caught on that something was going on outside. He’d pushed through the crowd, catching sight of you. “Y/n! Again?” He snapped, making a move towards you. You let out a laugh, stepping back.

“Sorry, Cody!” You shouted your apology to the bouncer as you turned towards your roommates. “Tell Mike I’ll see him next weekend!” You grabbed the girls hands, staring to make a run for it. Jake watched, still trying to process the entire interaction that had unfolded in front of him, amazed that a single punch from you could have knocked a boy that size, backwards. He only clued in to what was happening when you paused in front of a building a few down from where he was standing. You were pulling your heels off, still trying to walk while you did so.

“Wait, y/n!” He called after you, not willing to let you get away that easily. You turned back to look at him, faltering for a moment.

“Sorry, rockstar!” You yelled back, genuinely feeling your chest ache as you ran away. “Nice meeting you!” Your voice echoed through the street. You thought maybe you should turn around and get his number, but pushed the thought away. He was leaving in a few days and he’d likely never remember you, anyway. You told yourself it was for best.

Jake watched your silhouette disappear into the night, debating running after you. But he stood, frozen, until you were completely out of sight. He was head over heels for you from the minute he saw you, even more so now after seeing you hold your own against a man two feet taller than you and probably a hundred pounds heavier. In the background, he could hear the bouncer scrambling your ex-boyfriend to his feet, eager to get him off the property before he had to call the cops. Jake didn’t care to pay attention to it, though, because he was only caught up in wondering if he’d just let the love of his life run away without even getting your last name.

[dreams-and-drabbles]

Hey hey, I'm new here, not sure request is still open, I'd like to request some Al haitham x reader Angst. Something about a situation that didn't go well, both having to end up in an argument, as reader leaves the room. They never returned. Not because they simply didn't wanted to. But maybe something tragic happen to reader. Which involves the Doctor (Dottore) taking them away.

Also reader is homies with cyno, Take you're time on this one, just remember to have fun :3

Ah!! Welcome, anon!! You happen to have asked for my favorite genre to write, toooo! I adore angst. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!!!!

The day started off like any other, [F/N] going downstairs to make coffee for the house’s inhabitants.

Kaveh came down first, giving [F/N] an appreciative smile, before grabbing his coffee.

[F/N] offered him a small smile in response, their gaze trailing to the one downstairs room.

Kaveh caught their glance and shook his head.

“Someone was in a bad mood yesterday. I’d be careful with him this morning. As much as he adores you, he’s rather unpleasant when mad.”

Kaveh said, before taking a long sip of his coffee.

[F/N] nodded at his words, offering him an appreciative smile.

Al Haitham left his room thirty minutes or so after your brief exchange with Kaveh.

Kaveh hastily excused himself for work, waving goodbye in a hurried fashion.

[F/N] glanced after him in confusion, before shaking their head in fond exasperation.

They glanced at Al Haitham who was silently sipping his coffee, before heading to the stove to fix their own cup.

They’d gotten into the habit of serving others first, as their work schedule was rather flexible.

[F/N]’s job consisted of information gathering, and it paid incredibly well, while also offering them the opportunity to choose their own schedule.

Then again, [F/N] was a vision holder…

Their Cryo vision automatically made them more viable for certain jobs, especially those with a certain risk factor.

Despite having the opportunity to take on other less dangerous professions, [F/N] was rather fond of their work sleuthing.

They took a sip of their coffee, before heading to the fridge to grab some berries and yogurt.

They glanced at Al Haitham, keeping Kaveh’s warning in mind.

“Would you like some, Al Haitham?”

Al Haitham shook his head, before sighing.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

[F/N] smiled at him, before turning to their breakfast.

Their mind drifted back to the conversation they’d had with Kaveh…

Al Haitham didn’t seem to be in a bad mood, but while they may be in a relationship with him, Kaveh had known the scribe longer…

They sighed, before taking a small sip of their coffee. They’d worry about it after they ate breakfast….

Al Haitham’s gaze snapped to them, and his brows furrowed.

[F/N] met his gaze, raising a brow.

“Why do you always put others first, [F/N]?”

He asked, his tone slightly dark and without its usual dry note.

[F/N] paused, setting down their bowl, their gaze questioning.

“What do you mean, Al Haitham?”

They asked, their expression one of surprise.

Al Haitham ran a hand through his hair, gesturing to the coffee and then their breakfast.

“Your work, the meals, your schedule— I did notice that you scheduled your work around when we’d be home. That way you could take care of things here, too… Why do you focus so much of your energy on pleasing others?”

[F/N]’s cheerful expression slipped, and they glanced at their hands, a self deprecating laugh spilling from their lips.

“You noticed that….Believe it or not, I’ve gotten a lot better since meeting you. Logically— I know I hold more value than what I can offer others skill wise, but…I can’t help but worry.”

Al Haitham frowned, running a hand through his hair.

“Your value as a person far exceeds what you can offer skill wise. So long as you’re alive, you can learn… Most everyone is capable of learning and accomplishing at least something. The scale of what they accomplish doesn’t matter, solely that they are capable, or at least have the intention of being capable. Should they be incapable, they still have value. Their presence may make or break another person.”

Al Haitham said, his tone serious yet holding a softer note.

[F/N] stared at him blankly, before shaking their head with a small smile.

“Thank you, Al Haitham… I appreciate you a lot.”

Al Haitham nodded, a small smile on his face.

“You’re welcome. I appreciate you, as well.”

[F/N] beamed, finishing the rest of their yogurt with a certain gusto.

They stood up, stretching some, before waving at Al Haitham.

“I’m going to go get ready for work… I made a breakthrough over the weekend regarding the Doctor. I’ll probably be out for a while.”

Al Haitham’s small smile fell and his gaze hardened.

“You’re still working on that despite everything that happened with him and the Akadeymia…? [F/N], no one has ever managed to catch him. None that he didn’t want to, at least… It’s a disaster waiting to happen. This is incredibly reckless and that’s coming from me. If you’re making a reckless decision, at least make sure there are decent odds. The odds in this situation are borderline suicidal.”

[F/N]’s fists clenched and their expression shifted into a fierce frown.

“You’re seriously telling me that? I know how awful he is, but that’s exactly why I’m trying to find him… How many people have gone missing because of him? If I could do something to prevent tha—“

Al Haitham stood up from his seat at the table, his eyes sparking with anger. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t save everyone, especially at the expense of yourself. How are you supposed to take care of them, if you can’t even care for yourself first?”

[F/N] bit their lip, tears stinging the corner of their eyes. “Yeah?! How would you know?!”

Al Haitham sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you, [F/N]… This idea is foolish.”

[F/N] scowled, storming out of the house, furiously wiping at their eyes.

They stood outside momentarily, before turning around, and sticking their head through the door.

“You don’t know anything about me!”

They hissed, before harshly closing the door.

[F/N] gripped their Cryo vision, heading off in the direction of the lead they’d gotten.

Their contact was waited for them, they couldn’t get upset now… They were so close!!!

They could care for themselves!

Al Haitham was wrong…

He was wrong.

They sniffed a bit, rubbing at their eyes.

They needed to get a hold of themselves!

They still had work to do, damn it!

[F/N] murmured to themselves furiously as they made their way to meet their contact.

Their eyes widened as they came face to face with a masked figure.

“You’re not…my..”

The figure’s lips curled into a deadly smile, and if [F/N] could see his eyes, they were certain they’d be as cold as death itself.

“I think you’ll find I’m exactly who you were looking into, [F/N].”

Al Haitham sighed, running a hand through his hair.

[F/N] was a good person, and he knew he’d been too hard them—

Still…

He sincerely hated the fact that they threw themselves at dangerous situations…

Yes, the people of Sumeru needed their abilities, but loathe he was to admit it—

He needed them too.

[F/N] was important to him, as well…

He sighed, leaving the house to head off to work himself.

He’d apologize to them at Lunch…

[F/N] clawed at the arms of their captor, their eyes narrowed into slits.

Their captor chuckled, sending chills down their spine.

“Try as you may, dear. Without your vision… Well, you’re simply helpless, hm?”

They scowled at him, their thoughts racing.

If they could scream—

Cyno’s brows furrowed as he observed the scene before him.

[F/N] had asked for his help in looking into the Doctor.

They wouldn’t do anything reckless by themselves.

He trusted them in that regard.

[F/N] was someone he valued input from, so he knew they wouldn’t do anything foolish—

Not only that—

He valued them, as well…

He’d known them long enough to get a sense of how they worked, and it didn’t bode well that they were late to meet him.

His gaze trailed across the environment around him, his brows furrowed slightly.

That was it, though…

There was nothing that would lead him to think they’d been here at all—

Were they just late, then?

He frowned, pacing the way to the Scribe’s house.

He’d never understand what exactly [F/N] saw in him, but so long as they were happy—

Cyno scowled as a chest collided with his face, and his expression was venomous as he met the scribe’s gaze.

Al Haitham’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms unapologetically.

“Oh? The General Mahamatra. To what do I owe the pleasure this time? I could have sworn we’d settled our disagreements.”

“I’m not here for you, Al Haitham. Where’s [F/N]? We were supposed to meet for work purposes. It’s unlike them to be late.”

Al Haitham’s expression shifted, his brows furrowing.

“They already left for work.“

Cyno’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening.

“I see… I apologize for disturbing you, then.”

Al Haitham nodded curtly, watching Cyno leave with narrowed eyes, before continuing on his way to the Aladeymia.

He frowned, a nagging feeling in the back of his head.

He sighed, shuffling through several papers.

That feeling just wouldn’t go away, it seemed.

Al Haitham scrawled away, filling out a few forms, before leaving the office for his lunch—

[F/N] would be off by now, given their habit of greeting both he and Kaveh.

He headed to the apartment, opening the door only to be greeted by both Kaveh and the General Mahamatra…

Dread pooled in Al Haitham’s chest, as he observed their expressions.

“What happened?”

He asked, hoping for once that his intuition was wrong—

“The reason [F/N]] didn’t meet Cyno…”

Kaveh murmured, his voice hoarse.

Cyno stood up, one hand tightly gripping his polearm. His expression was dark as he passed Al Haitham a small, round object—

Al Haitham’s breath hitched as he saw what it was—

A vision…

[F/N]’s vision—

It…

Wasn’t glowing…

Cyno’s gaze trailed to Al Haitham, and his grip on the Polearm tightened, as electro sparked throughout the weapon.

Al Haitham’s throat was dry, as he grasped Cyno’s arms, his expression a fierce scowl.

“Don’t… They wouldn’t…”

He rasped, his eyes burning.

Cyno tensed, before sucking in a harsh breath.

“One day. One day, he’ll show up in Sumeru again. When that day comes, I’ll kill him.”

Cyno grit, leaving the house in a blur.

Al Haitham stared at the vision in his palm, before scowling, and flinging it at the wall—

He felt sick.

It wasn’t theirs anymore—

If it was, it would still be glowing—

He’d still be able to apologize, if only it were just—

“Al Haitham!!!!”

Kaveh shouted, his voice hoarse, as he moved to retrieve the vision—

Al Haitham scowled, watching as Kaveh cradled the damned thing in his hands.

“It’s useless, Kaveh!! Just a useless piece of junk!!”

Kaveh stood up, his expression dark.

“How could you say that?! You know how much they valued this thing!!!!”

Al Haitham’s hands shook, and the burning in his eyes— He hated that burning, just like he hated the fact that—

“It’s not theirs anymore, Kaveh! They’re… They’re gone…”

He choked out, the anger leaving him in a sudden rush, exhaustion taking its place.

Kaveh’s expression shifted, and he stared at the vision in his grasp an unusual glint in his eyes.

“They’re gone…”

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | finale

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART TWO

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DARKSIDE - NEONI 

“Mini-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it.” I whispered, staring out into the unknown from the front porch of the house we’d taken rest in. “I just don’t.”

Bobby sighed. “You can’t blame yourself for Sam.” 

“I can. I was there. I could’ve killed Jake seconds before it happened had I just let go for a second like I did with Ava. And now? Sam’s dead.”

”You’re deranged, mini. You’ve done the best you can and considering the circumstances, you did a damn good job of it.” 

“Everyone’s dead except that kid Jake who deserves to be ripped limb by limb.” I growled, standing up. “I know I’m gonna see him again. And when I do? Hell, I’m gonna kill him. And I’ll make sure he regrets living before he goes into the fire.” 

“Hey!” He frowned. “Don’t lose yourself in this.” 

“I lost myself in hell, Bobby, I’m long gone.” I seethed. “Every gash, the torture, the watching others being tortured- it eats away at you. Tears you a new one. A worse one, and I loathe how I turned out. I can’t look at my family the same after learning what kind of a man I was born from. What my sister became- heck, what my brother could’ve been. It’s pure pain. Sam was… an out. An amazing, kind, caring out. A way to think about what relationship I could have had with my siblings if they were alive. Now Sam’s dead. I’ve lost that too. That means I’ve lost my fight.” 

“I know you must be feeling helpless.” Bobby appeased, giving me a sympathetic look. “Feel it, feel it all if you can’t help it, but Dean in there? He needs you more than ever.” He started to walk off, but I held his shoulder. 

“Where’re you going?” 

“Dean doesn’t need me anymore. He told me to leave, but you know where I’ll be.” 

“C’mere.” I hugged him tightly, and he allowed me to, thumping my back. 

“You’re a strong kid, mini. It’s not your fault your dad was a coward.” 

“It never will be.” I smiled, then watch him leave. I walked into the house, finding Dean at Sam’s bed. 

“Don’t tell me to bury him.” Dean snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t tell me to torch him either.”

“I won’t.” I shrugged, sitting down beside him. 

“Then? It was bad enough losing you at first, now Sammy? What are they gonna do, gank Bobby next?” 

“The kid won’t, but Yellow Eyes might.” 

“What d’you mean?” 

“He came to me.” I muttered. “Told me that this was a survival of the fittest deal. Then he said I wasn’t in it.” 

“Son of a… why weren’t you?” 

“He said that I’d rip each and every one of them apart if I wanted to. And god, I wish I’d ripped Jake limb from limb if I’d gotten the chance.” 

“Is that really Ivy talking?” He stood up, and so did I, holding my head. 

“It’s 100% me, Dean. I, cold blooded, shot Ava. I didn’t care about Lily and I was about to deliver a finishing blow to Jake with a metal pole but somehow I decided against it. Hell changed me. I don’t know what happened in there, but it changed me. Sam’s dead, I know, and all that’s replaying in my head is how Carter died and how I could’ve stopped that too but I was too damn weak to, and now Sam took a blow because of pure fate. Don’t let all this change you. Don’t do anything stupid, Dean, please just don’t.” 

“I won’t.” He agreed, and then he hugged me, detaching and leaning his forehead on mine, cupping my cheeks. “I won’t.” 

I walked in to find Dean prepping to go somewhere, and… Sam. 

Sam.

Alive. 

“Where we going, boys?” I asked, giving Dean a look. I know what you’ve done. 

“Bobby’s.” Sam smiled. 

“It’s great to have you up and about, Sam.” 

“Great to be up and about.” 

“To the Impala, then.” We went to the car, getting in and driving down to Bobby’s in silence. We went to the door, and Bobby opened it, his eyes widening a bit when he saw Sam. 

“Hey, Bobby.” Sam grinned.

“Sam. It's good to... see you up and around.” 

“Yeah ... thanks for patching me up.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Bobby then turned to me, patting me on the shoulder. “James knows you’re alive, but…” 

“I know.” I nodded. 

“Do what you’ve gotta do.” I took out my phone, dialling James. He picked up immediately on the other line, and I sighed. 

‘Ivy?’ 

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

‘You’re alive. Bobby was right. I-I thought that you…’ 

“I’m alive, yeah. My dad made a deal with a demon to save me.” I then bit my lip. “But now I’m involved in something big. End of the world big, and you need to be safe.” Bobby handed me a map of omens, and I spotted Southern Wyoming as a safe place. “Get to Southern Wyoming. Hide, take as much salt, holy water, iron, the works, as you can. Just get to safety.”

I could hear a sigh on another line. ‘We can’t see each other anymore, can we?’ 

“No, we can’t. At least, not until all this is over, which will take a hell of a long time.” 

‘I get it. At least I’ll know that my ex-girlfriend helped stop an apocalypse.’ 

“Stew in that, Lieutenant.” 

‘Gladly.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll miss you, Ivonne Rainer.’ 

“As will I, James Rhodes.” I smiled. “Bye.”

’Bye.’ I then turned to Bobby. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“Omens are popping up everywhere.” He grimaced. “Everywhere but Southern Wyoming. It’s like demons are surrounding it or something. I need you and Sam to find out why while I chat with Dean.” 

“You better, before I give him an early ticket.” I gritted my teeth, then nodded. “I’ll do it. Figure something out.” 

I was mapping things out when Ellen came in with Dean and Bobby, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Ellen.” I grinned, hugging her, and she returned it, trembling. “I’m glad you’re ok.” 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” She retorted. “I’m sorry about Mick.”

”He was better off dead.” I huffed before pulling up a chair. Ellen sat down, and Bobby poured her a shot of holy water. 

“Bobby, is this really necessary?” 

“Just holy water.” Bobby shrugged. “Shouldn’t hurt.” 

She swallowed the water, giving Bobby a look. “Whiskey now, if you don't mind.” 

I passed her a shot of whiskey, and Dean sat down, leaning forward. “Ellen, what happened?” 

“I wasn't supposed to get out. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She sipped the whiskey with a scoff. “Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes.” 

“I’m sorry, Ellen.” Sam grimaced. 

“A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live.” She scoffed again. “Lucky me.” 

“Ellen, you mentioned a safe.” Bobby frowned. 

“Secret safe in the basement.” 

“Demons get what’s in it?” 

“No.” She put down a map, which had Xs on it. I picked it up, studied it for a second and then took a book out of my satchel, turning the pages. 

“Friggin’ hell.” I muttered, drawing a line connecting the Xs. 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt.” 

“Samuel Colt? Demon killing, gun making Samuel Colt?” 

“Yep. And from church to church, he built underground, hidden railway tracks, connecting every dot until…” I grinned, “he made a 100 mile Devil’s Trap.” 

“Beanie, you genius.”

”I've never heard of anything that massive.” Ellen breathed. 

“No one has.” Bobby shrugged. 

“And after all these years none of the lines are broken?” Dean asked. “I mean, it still works?”

”Looks like it.” I nodded. “Demon omens are circling this place. They’re trying to get in, but can’t.” 

“Why’re they trying to get in?” Ellen frowned. 

“Bang in the middle of this place, there’s an old, abandoned cowboy cemetery.” I pointed to it on the map, then looked up grimly. “I don’t think Colt was trying to keep anything out. I think he was trying to keep something in.” 

“Well, that’s comforting.” 

“Could they get in?” Dean asked. 

“No.” I shook my head. “They’d need something as powerful as an A-bomb, H-bomb, heck, even the Tsar Bomba could work.” 

“The Tsar What-A?” 

“Nuclear bomb made by the Soviets. Still the most powerful nuclear weapon to exist. Only something roughly like that could rip this apart. Unless you make someone who’s not a demon cross the line.” 

Then it hit me. 

“Jake.”

“Howdy, Jake.” Sam seethed, all of us surrounding him as he approached the crypt. Jake looked stunned, and I knew why. 

“Wait... you were dead. I killed you.” He stammered, but Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah? Well next time, finish the job.” 

“I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, man. You can’t be alive, you just can’t.” 

“Okay, just take it real easy there, son.” Bobby warned. 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Wait and see.” Sam smirked. 

“What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?” 

“It’s a thought.” 

“You had your chance. You couldn't.” 

“Alright, then.” Sam nodded tauntingly. “It isn’t my mojo. But it’s hers.” He inclined his head towards me, and Jake spun around, seeing my eyes glow blue. 

“You’re not gonna lift anything.” He smirked, then turned to Ellen. “Hey lady, do me a favour. Put that gun to your head.” Ellen shakily agreed, putting the gun to her head. “See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn.” 

“Let her go.” I demanded. 

“Kill him.” Ellen whispered. 

“You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off.” Jake taunted. “Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart.” Everyone but me and Ellen put their guns down, me because Jake most likely didn’t know I had one. “Okay. Thank you.” He turned around, pulling out the Colt and putting it into the crypt. I immediately pulled the gun away from Ellen’s head, my eyes turning red as I held out my hand, my powers dragging Jake to me so I could hold him by the neck, rage surging through me like it was addictive. 

“Which way do you wanna go, huh?” I sneered, tilting my head with a grin. “I could switch off your brain, rip your guts out, but no, that’s too quick for you. I have a better idea.” I reached out, putting my fingertips around his heart. He started twitching, graining is pain as I retracted my hand, red wisps of energy following and slowly feeding small tendrils into what formed into his heart, pulsing, still beating. 

“Please.” Jake whispered. “Don’t do this, please.”

“Do it.” Sam snarled. “Kill him.”

“You’d rip them apart.” 

And I want to. 

“Please-“ I snapped my fist shut, bursting the heart and killing Jake, his body going limp as his head lolled forwards. I threw him down onto the ground without a second thought, my eyes returning to their normal colour. 

“Beanie?” Dean spoke up. “That you?” 

“Who else?” I snapped, staring down at Jake’s body before stepping over it. The two runes on the crypt spun in different directions before stopping, and a sense of apprehension immediately took over me. 

“Oh, no.” Bobby whispered. 

“What is it?” Ellen asked. 

“Hell.” Dean pulled the Colt from the crypt, and we all stepped back as we heard a lock click. “Take cover— now!” We dived behind headstones right as a door burst open, clouds of black smoke flying everywhere. 

“What the hell just happened?!” Dean groaned, taking cover next to me. 

“That’s a Devil’s gate!” I yelled. “A damn door to hell!” 

“Come on! We gotta shut that gate!” Ellen cried out. 

“If the demon gave this to Jake…” Dean muttered, fiddling with the Colt, then maybe-“ The gun flew out of his hand and landed in Yellow Eyes’, who smirked. 

“Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns.” He sneered, throwing Dean aside. Then he turned to me, chuckling. “I knew putting you in the game would be unfair. Poor Jakey didn't stand a chance. And now his heart's gone." 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m gonna make you in the meantime.” He forced Sam and I against trees, shrugging at Sam. “I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you— knew you had it in you.” Then he faced Dean, throwing him against a post. “Sit a spell. So, Dean... I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape- it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation. Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me— have you ever heard the expression, ‘If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?’” 

“You call that deal good?” Dean scoffed.

“Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. Michael never got a good one either. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean... you saw what your dear Ivy just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100%, pure, Sam? After all, Beanie came back a changed badass, didn’t she?“ He chuckled. “You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead. Anyway... thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.” He pointed the Colt at Dean, but I saw the ghost of John Winchester creeping up behind him. And he wasn’t alone. 

Carter’s ghost was with him. 

They grabbed a hold of Yellow Eyes, making him drop the Colt. I broke free from his telekinesis with a burst of blue light, picking up the Colt and aiming it at him. 

“I shot the wrong guy with this when I first used it.” I seethed. “Not this time.” I fired, and it hit him right in the heart. I ignored the falling body, instead turning to Carter, who I realised I was walking towards. He gave me a smile and joyful salute, and I did the same, wiping a tear from my cheek as he disappeared with a white light. 

When we got to a motel, before we went inside, I took Dean by the arm, smiling at Sam like nothing was wrong. “You go in with the others, Sam, we’ll catch up.” 

“Ok.” Sam nodded awkwardly, then headed inside with Ellen and Bobby, both of whom nodded in a way that said ‘give him hell.’ 

And hell I gave him. 

The moment he was inside, I spun Dean to face me and decked him in the jaw, making him hold it with a groan. 

“Again?!” He hissed, but I didn’t care. 

“You did it, didn’t you?” I fumed, and he looked startled. 

“Wh-“ 

“Don’t you dare ‘what’ me, Dean, it’s a simple question, yes or no. You did it, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I did!” Dean burst out, throwing his arms up in the air. “I put my profile in a box, buried it and sealed the deal.” 

“After I told you not to do anything stupid?!” I scoffed. “Dean, that goes beyond the laws of stupid! How much time do you even have left?” 

He remained silent, turning away. 

“Dean.” 

Still nothing. 

“Dean!” 

Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

“ANSWER ME, DAMNIT-“ 

“A YEAR!” He yelled, turning back around. “I have a year, ok? The damn demon wouldn’t settle for anything else!” He saw me just standing there and held out his hands, waiting for an answer. “Ivy?”

“YOU FRICKING IDIOT!” I screamed, pushing him. “Are you that desperate to limit your chances of living? Do you think that low of yourself? I know what your dad’s done to your protective instincts, Dean Winchester, but he seems to have done nothing for your own survival.” I pushed my finger against his chest, my eyes flickering red for a moment. “Because you feel it’s so necessary to protect Sam and I and blame yourself if we get hurt- just cut it! Because I’m done! Time and time again- I can’t stand it. I’m not going to sit here like your dad did and watch you throw away your life-“ 

“Then don’t.” He whispered, but it cut through my words like a yell. “Leave. Don’t watch me throw away my life.” 

I instantly deflated, setting my jaw. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly.” He seethed, gritting his teeth. 

I shook my head, the winding coil in my head snapping suddenly. “Fine. Congratulations, though, you just killed yourself.” 

“I did it for a reason! Sam is my family, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you?” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shrugged, biting back tears. “Even though I had two boys who I’d give my life for in a heartbeat. Or at least I did.” I turned on my heel, walking back into the motel. The first thing I did was grab my spare clothes from Jo, Sam’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he saw what I was doing. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“Ask your brother.” I retorted, taking out the keys to my Mustang and getting in, flooring it. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam turned to Dean, gesturing in the direction of where I drove off. 

“I don’t know.” Dean whispered, breathing heavily and unable to take his eyes off where my car once was. 

“Seriously, man, what the hell?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know.” He gulped, running both hands through his hair. “What have I done?”

PREVIOUS

[bridgyrose]

Hey Bridgey, literally all I want is (White Rose) Weiss having a sudden growth spurt and ending up about as tall as Winter, and Ruby realising she's now the shortest of her team... again... (anything else you can do whatever, I'm just emotionally craving that)

(Unfortunately for you, Weiss has never been taller than Ruby without heels)

“See? I told you I’d get taller than you one day.” 

Ruby paused for a moment when she realized she had to look up at Weiss, not quite sure when she managed to get a few inches taller. “Y-yeah, I can see that. When… when did that happen?” 

Weiss shrugged a bit. “I dont think I ever really paid attention. Guess I ended up with a late growth spurt.” 

“Seems like it…” Ruby sighed for a moment as she looked over Weiss, not sure how much she believed her. It had only been a couple years since they graduated Beacon, so it wasnt too likely that it was just a late growth spurt, especially with having been on missions with her over the last couple years, and she never did seem taller. 

“Though, it shouldnt matter much. I’m just glad I dont need to wear heels anymore to not look like a child.” 

Ruby chuckled a bit. “People thought you were a child? I thought your attitude would’ve made them think otherwise.” 

Weiss rolled her eyes. “You’d be surprised what people would think. Still, we should get going on our mission and not dally too much.” 

Ruby nodded and followed Weiss, still focused on how much taller that she had gotten. Though, she still wasnt sure why she was so focused on her height, it wasnt like she was bothered being shorter than most of her team anyway, but seeing Weiss taller than her started to make her feel self conscious. It was a strange feeling, one that she hadnt felt since she had started transitioning the year before she made it into Beacon. And yet, here she was, once again comparing herself to someone that she had a crush on and feeling… not quite herself. 

“Everything okay, Ruby?” Weiss asked as they walked. “You seem quieter than you normally are.” 

“I-I’m fine, really, I uh-” Ruby sighed and looked away. “How did you really get so tall?” 

“It was just a growth spurt-” 

“You’re just as tall as Yang now! How did you do that so quickly?” 

“Because I lied about my age!” 

Ruby stopped in her tracks and looked at Weiss curiously. “You… lied about your age?” 

“Well, not… me, but father…” Weiss sighed and found a stump to sit on. “After Winter ended up going off to Atlas, father wanted to make sure he had an heir ready, but I… I was still a bit too young. Then, he lied about my age to get me into school quicker. When I entered Beacon, I was fifteen, just like you.” 

“You… you were?” Ruby leaned against a tree, almost too surprised to realize how angry she was from the couple years of being treated like a child by her. A grudge she didnt realize she’d been carrying. “Then why did you keep treating me like you did when we first came to Beacon?”

“Because I… I couldnt… I wanted to tell the truth, but I needed to act like an adult for father and I couldnt let anyone know that I was younger than everyone… and if I admitted that I was a child like you, then-” 

“Then what? You thought we’d be angry?” 

“-you’d treat me… different.” 

Ruby paused for a moment when she saw Weiss look genuinely scared, not at all like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Nervous like she was when she first came to Beacon, still young and coming into who she was supposed to be. “We wouldn’t have.” 

Weiss looked up at her. “You would’ve-” 

“We would have treated you like a friend.” Ruby moved to sit down next to Weiss, leaning against her. “And… it would’ve been nice to know that there was someone my age on our team as well. Then maybe we both could’ve felt less alone.” 

“That… that would’ve been nice.” 

“But no more secrets, okay?” Ruby asked with a smile, standing up and offering a hand to Weiss. “Though, we should get back to our mission.” 

Weiss nodded and took Ruby’s hand. “No more secrets.”

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part One

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: arguing, alludes to bad relationship with a parent

A/N: Someone asked for a bit of George fluff seeing as there isn't much out there atm, sooo I figured I'd make a short series because idk when to stop I guess. Additional note: This series is far from fluffy, pls make sure to read chapter warnings!!

Just a note, George isn't actually in this part, this is sort of a lead up..

Masterlist

--

“Alright, fucking out with it.”

Matty actually had the nerve to look over at me all confused, craning his head back to scrunch up his face, only further accentuating his many sudden chins. I raised a brow, I wasn’t backing down. 

The two of us were currently sat in his living room, watching a film but not really. I’d invited myself over, having wanted the company of my best mate after he’d been away for so long, doing famous people shit, and Matty hadn’t complained. He’d grinned upon answering the front door and all but floored me in a hug, then proceeded to tell me all stories about the crap I’d missed out on at a hundred miles an hour whilst he’d lead me inside.

I’d been here for a while now, just over an hour or so, and we’d since made ourselves comfortable on his settee, my legs draped across his lap whilst he ordered in food. 

We hadn’t spoken about the elephant in the room as of yet, but I wasn’t too fussed. Actually, I much preferred it when Matty didn’t strain to involve himself in all of my personal problems, which had always been something of a hobby to him. But he had been acting a little strange since his previous excitement had died down a tad, constantly checking his phone and purposefully avoiding certain topics I brought up.

I narrowed my eyes at him and dug my foot into his side, causing him to yelp and swat it away. I huffed out a light laugh, always having had a love for annoying him, before I resettled. “Come on, Healy, spill.”

I watched as he worked his jaw, obviously struggling not to spill it all then and there- but I knew him far too well and we both knew that he wouldn’t last long.

“Matty…” I sighed, but as I opened my mouth to continue on, his phone rang.

He looked all too grateful for the distraction which only peaked my interest further. He was definitely hiding something, that was for certain. 

“Alright, Hann?” Matty answered by way of hello, fiddling with the cuff of my jeans as he replied to something Adam must have said in reply. I half paid attention to their conversation, eyes trained on the tele whilst they talked, but Matty didn’t give much away, just kept umming and ahing which was a little unlike him.

I had to tug my feet in towards me and tuck them under myself when Matty motioned to stand. I frowned slightly at the movement but it softened when he mouthed the question of ‘Brew?’ over at me, using his hand to gesture like the Queen as he held an imaginary teacup to his lips. 

I nodded and gifted him a thankful little smile in turn, already knowing that he’d make it perfect. 

One thing about Matty, he liked to remember all the small things. But we’d known each other for so long now that the way I took my tea was probably already engrained in his brain right there alongside his own. He puttered away and the film continued on. 

We’d stuck on the first thing Netflix had suggested to us whilst we’d gotten to talking more in depth about what had been happening in one another’s lives, but I found it to be dragging a little now that I had the opportunity to focus on it more. Instead of opting to change it though, I decided to have a scroll through my phone, picking up on the quiet muttering of Matty’s voice which wafted in from the kitchen as I did. 

He returned a short while later and gave me a grin, albeit a tired one, as he handed over my hot drink.

“You okay?” I questioned quietly, blowing at my steaming mug whilst he resettled, dragging my feet back onto his lap.

He heaved out a large breath, slumping into the cushions before he angled his head towards me, half of his face buried in a pillow. He groaned loudly in retort to my question and I couldn’t help the soft snort I made.

Carefully, I repositioned myself nearer to him so that I could ruffle his hair, then let my head come to a rest beside his. 

“What’s happened then? Why you all- stroppy?” I asked him, wrinkling my nose as I waved a hand over his pouting face. “Has it got something to do with why you’ve been acting all strange?”

“‘M not stroppy. And you’re the strange one.” Matty quipped with a frown, his words muffled by the cushion. But then he sighed again and so I waited for his actual reply, hoping it would soon follow. “Hann just thought it’d be best to bring up studio times again, incase I forgot.”

I felt my forehead pinch. “Alright… but you’re not the type to forget something important like that and plus, you’ve just gotten home. I know Ad’s a tad bit tetchy when it comes to scheduling and what not, but still, even he probably wants a short break, no?”

Matty didn’t reply, only buried his face further into the plush pillow. It was a nice one to be fair, expensive looking, but only further proved that he was actively avoiding the question. 

“Mattyyy.” I droned, shaking his shoulder. “Come on, why won’t you just tell me? Is it embarrassing? Did you piss yourself whilst bladdered and have a fan witness it? Or, ooh!-”

A hand shot up to cover my mouth before I could open it again and I quirked a brow over at Matty, who was mid eye-roll and chuckling faintly. “No more guessing.” He told me seriously, then shook his head as he exhaled. “It’s not embarrassing, and no, I did not fucking piss myself in front of any fans. Alright?”

His hand slipped away then, once he gotten the nod he’d wanted out of me, but as soon as he’d dropped his guard I was quick to snipe back, “So you did piss yourself then, just not in front of any fans?”

Matty grabbed at my ankles and started to tickle the bottoms of my socked feet, knowing it was my one downfall. I relented rather quickly, using all my strength to kick away from him whilst still clutching my tea. “Okay! Okay! I’ll leave it out, I swear! Uncle! Uncle!”

He hummed and reluctantly stopped the incessant torture, but I still swept my feet away from him just in case. 

With a deserving scowl, I placed down my mug on the console, grateful to have only spilt a drop or two. “Why do you always resort to violence?”

Matty grinned victoriously in turn, seemingly very smug about the whole ordeal as he sipped away at his coffee. “‘Cause it’s the easiest way to get you to piss off.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine. I’ll stop, but only if you tell me what’s been messing with your head.”

Matty’s gaze flitted to the ceiling then and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller, quieter almost. He sighed softly, “Your birthday-” He attempted but I immediately cut him off.

“Is a day you’ve learnt not to celebrate. Because you know how much I hate it. Which means that the same celebrations that happen each and every year will continue to occur. As in, you gift me the usual chocolates and a cuddle, then not mention it at all.”

I turned to face the tv screen, crossing my legs underneath me so that I could avoid the obvious stare I felt burning holes into the side of my head.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” Matty muttered under his breath, I shot him a glare but that didn’t seem to derail him. “I get why you hate it, I do, but it’s been years- you don’t even speak to her no more! Why let it ruin the one day that celebrates just you?”

“If you understood why, you wouldn’t be asking, Matt.”

Matty shook his head at me, clearly disappointed. “She’s a twat. Just forget about her, leave it in the past now. We both know it’d do you the world of good.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you suppose I just forget the woman that birthed me, hey?” 

His lips pursed sourly whilst his gaze skirted towards the tele. I barrelled on though, never knowing when to give up, but now I was upset. I always got upset whenever she was mentioned. Triggered my fight or flight, I supposed.

“No, because I’d honestly love to hear it, Matty! How do I erase the one person who was meant to protect me from the world, huh? She couldn’t even protect me from herself!”

The silence that suddenly engulfed us was stilted and stuffy. I had to take a deep breath.

Matty and I had always been very alike when it came to the way we reacted to certain things. We snapped and bit back before we could think things over. We shared a lot of sore topics. But my biggest had always been my mum.

I released a heavy sigh and tugged a hand through my hair. I knew he was only trying to help. I really did. But, it was hard to realise that in the moment when all I really wanted to do was change the subject completely or just blow up at him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.” I told him quietly.

He dragged his eyes over to where I was sat, sighing too as he let a hand come to rest on the cushion between us. I gave a half-hearted smile that I couldn’t really help, laying my palm flat against his. It was always something we’d done. Ever since we were kids. Our way of saying sorry, or, I’m still here.

“I didn’t mean to either.” Matty replied, squeezing my hand gently in his before shuffling closer so that he could pull both of them into his lap. “I just want you to enjoy it, you know? It's your birthday. No one should hide away at home, plagued by all those unhappy memories. You should be out getting pissed, or celebrating with us lot.”

Humming, I squeezed back. “I know. It’s just a lot to unpack, Matty. Not as easy as it seems.”

Matty pressed a chaste kiss to my knuckles, right where a faint white line started and stretched its way down the back of my hand. He shrugged.

“Carls and I just figured that you might be open to a dinner or something this year.” Matty told me gently, never looking away from our joined hands. “With your close mates, people who won’t sing happy birthday or get you a card. People who just want to celebrate you, yeah?”

I had to smile. I couldn’t not. It was dead sweet. And I thought it over, not saying anything for a few minutes.

“I think dinner would be okay.”

The grin Matty gave me in return, megawatt and beaming like the actual sun, was all it took to wash away those feelings of fear and resentment that I always held onto for a brief moment.

“Right.” He replied, still grinning away like the Cheshire Cat he was. Or maybe a man who’d just lucked out on the lotto. He burrowed his way into my side and I shook my head in amusement as I withdrew my hand to shove him off of me.

“Get off me, you oaf.” I chuckled.

“Oaf? Well, you can sod right off then!” Matty retorted, turning his nose up at me. “Had planned to have Ross make those molten cakes of his, but you can forget that now.”

I gasped in horror. “No! Not the chocolate ones!”

“Yeah, them." Matty taunted. "But it seems my efforts are under appreciated here so…”

“Matthew.” I admonished. “Please tell Ross to make them and- ooh! Get him to make those mini mousses of his, too? Please, please, pretty please?” I begged- and it was downright pathetic in hindsight yes, but if you’d had even a mouthful of this heavenly dessert then you’d understand. I’d willingly give up my firstborn if it meant that Ross would give me a lifetime supply. “Matty, I’m begging you here. I’ll love you for forever.”

He smirked but feigned a put-upon sigh as he slumped further into the settee cushions. The dramatic tart. “Look, I’ll rethink my decision if you help me out on this recent bridge I just started." He grew more serious all of a sudden, as he always did whenever music was mentioned. "Wanna see how a harmony would sound.”

“Fine, I’ll help. But I still want those chocolates you always get me, and a bottle of that fancy wine you like.”

Matty quirked a brow. “Thought you didn’t want any presents on your birthday?”

“They’re not presents. They’re bribes.”

He snorted. “Right. Sorry, got a bit confused there.”

I grinned, kicking my feet back into his lap once I'd shimmied my way back down the sofa. “Toss the remote, will you? This film’s so shit.”

“Glad you were the one to say it. Main character's a right wanker.” Matty commented, looking relieved as he threw the remote towards me. I tried to catch it midair but failed horribly, leaving the remote to hit the side of my wrist and nut me on the chin. Matty cackled merrily. “Only you, I swear.”

Rolling my eyes, I grumbled lowly back at him in retort.

It was just after we’d searched through the entirety Netflix and then Prime, that we finally settled on some shitty comedy to watch. One we faintly recalled watching years ago. The food had since been ordered and whilst we waited for it, I found myself remembering what had caused the start of our little tiff.

“You know, you never did tell me what was up.”

Matty frowned over at me. “Yeah, I did.”

I shook my head, sitting up slightly. “No, just mentioned my birthday and then we started arguing.”

He nodded slowly as it dawned on him. “Oh yeah, suppose not then.”

“So…” I prompted with a jut of my chin. “What was it?”

I watched closely as Matty dragged his front teeth over his bottom lip before his sights settled again on me, a little more confidently than I’d expected in truth. My forehead pinched.

“Well?”

“The dinner.” Matty begun, brown eyes flicking back and forth between my own.

“What about the dinner?” I quizzed, growing even more confused.

He clenched his jaw, looking at me as though he was trying to determine something. Something I couldn’t be quite sure of. He seemed to find what he looking for though, because a few long seconds later he just came right out with it. 

“The dinner. I invited George to the dinner.”

Part Two>

[mitamicah]

You may remember me talking about wanting a new tattoo when I went to Finland this month. I ended up getting two (these ones). You can look under the line to get the full story about how the world a cancelled flight ended up resulting in me travelling back in Denmark with new ink on both my arms (ngl mobility was a challenge the first few days).

The tale of two tattoos

I have recently been visiting Finland for the second time in my life. If everything had gone to plan, I would’ve arrived in Helsinki May 3 at 9.20 am which would give me almost six hours before I could check in at my hotel. Learning this I decided to plan for a tattoo since I find tattoos to be gender affirming and a great way to store memories about an experience in the body (a sort of permanent souvenir if you will).

Now I’m very much autistic (capital A) so I tend to overthink things and meanings. To challenge myself I’d decided to give myself the goal that the tattoo I’d get at this appointment should be a flash piece. Asking around on tumblr for good Helsinki based tattoo studios I stumbled over Krunikan Leima where tattoo apprentice Ellen had a pokemon Gacha machine with additional pokemon flash tattoos. In my childhood I liked Eevee (looking like a fluffy fox was a big factor – foxes are still my favourite animal to this day), so I kept this as one of my possible options. At the end I decided to reach out to Ellen about whether she had time the given Friday. She was able to put aside the whole day for me and seemed very excited by my käärijä artwork on my wall when we had our consultation over Microsoft teams. Just a few days after said consultation she posted a story where she’d tattooed Häärijä on somebody’s leg.

At this point it may be good to mention that this tattoo would be the first tattoo I’ve ever gotten in colour. Because of this I was a bit hesitant about going full colour. When thinking about a possible solution I realized that if I went black and grey for the design itself yet kept the coloured background (bubbles in pink and blue) we’d make an accidental trans flag. Being transmasc myself this seemed as too good a coincidence to not go for.

Friday rolled around and unfortunately my flight was cancelled. I was instead directed to board a flight eight hours later flying over Stockholm before heading to Helsinki. This whole ideal would make me 10 hours late compared to my original time. And so, I had to sadly announce to Ellen I wouldn’t be able to make it for our appointment. In true honesty I thought this would be it: the 100 euro I had paid as a consultation fee would’ve been lost, and I would have had to kiss the idea of a trans eevee goodbye. Yet when later having to also inform the studio I was asked if I was able to visit the studio the upcoming Sunday instead which by chance I would (since I hadn’t been able to book a flight before Monday morning).

This whole ideal in hindsight seems to have been faith since on Saturday I went to my first Käärijä concert in his home country when he headlined the newly opened Böle arena. Joining together on the dance floor with other fans at the afterparty, still high on the show(s) we’ve witnessed, we were given yet another blessing in form of a spontaneous gig from a half-drunk Jere behind the DJ stand. Amongst the songs chosen were the transmasc coded song Paidaton Riehuja (the song is literally about people calling a guy taking his shirt off inappropriate because of how his body doesn’t fit into the societal norm said guy giving no shits about it, you cannot tell me this isn’t trans coded especially for post op transmen).

Now I had dreamt about being present to a gig when Käärijä would play this song since first learning about him as an artist and the song itself. Mind you, in my head I would have had my top surgery way before this potential gig, so I’d had become confident with my body and my chest. In my dream I would’ve taken off my shirt no hesitation and proudly showing off my scars. And nobody would look at me funny. Maybe somebody would even smile and cheer.

Hearing the song now as the last song of the entire evening standing next to another transmasc person (hi Skull, @teal-skull) I immediately went to business, fighting with the four layers of shirts I’d decided to put on that day (jacket, longsleeve, tanktop and sportsbra). By the halfway point I’d stand in a crowd with only my sportsbra on, screaming my suffering voice out with my shirts helicoptering in the air. Only afterwards did I realise what I’d just done. I’d voluntarily taken off my shirt for the first time ever in public which in itself is a milestone yet even more so considering that the last time I had been shirtless in front of another human being it was an ex who made sure to let me know he conceptualized and sexualized me as a female person. Yet if anybody even cared about me here, they didn’t seem to gender my body in any way. All these feelings crashed into me like a tidal wave making me ugly cry for the first time ever at a concert. I would cry at least two more times that evening (happy tears) thinking about what had just gone down.

To turn back to the tattoo part of this story, since I had a tattoo appointment less than eleven hours later, my mind began scheming. After only 3,5 hours of sleep, I went up to make concept art of a possible milestone tattoo I’d ask Ellen if she’d help me get as well as the original plan, the Eevee. I wasn’t sure about which of two designs I wanted (either ‘paidaton’ down my lower arm in a typewriter font or PR in the käärijä font with the date underneath), so I took with me to the appointment.

As it turned out Ellen is a casual fan of käärijä herself after having been carried into the fandom by one of her clients asking her to tattoo käärijä related ideas twice (one of them being the Häärijä I’d been on her story recently). She was open to make my Paidaton Riehuja idea a reality if we ended up having the time. After 2,5 hours of listening to Käärijä (+ Go_A + Vesna), talking about Käärijä and otherwise gushing over nerdy culture, Ellen concluded that we did indeed have time for another small tattoo.

After half an hour of lying awkwardly on my stomach could enjoy the result in the mirror.  My most spontaneous tattoo design now and probably ever was done. Ellen had chosen the second design with the shortened song title and the date. And it worked out perfectly! And to think had my flight not been delayed two days prior this might never have happened.

Somebody I know said once that everything in live happens for a reason. Call it faith or destiny or whatever but I think that somebody up there knew I had to reschedule my trip to make the most out of it. Now I not only have a wonderful trans Eevee but I have one of my great trans journey milestones tattooed on my body.

And so concludes the tale of the two tattoos.

Thank you for reading.  

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 2 - Excerpt 3

Oh, you're going to love this one *villainous laughing* Prepare to be astonished!

That night, I decided to finally nose-dive into my ocean-deep pile of homework, which was no mean feat considering there was a perfectly good bed right next to my study-table. Whoever made the judgement that a workspace would do well to be placed in a bedroom clearly didn’t have their head screwed on right.

Now that I come to think about it, it was Lila who had made the judgement in question. But it wasn’t as though her head wasn’t screwed right – it was – she just had a... unique way of using it.

I crossed out a trigonometry sum and commenced redoing it.

But I wasn’t concentrating, not really, and the symbols and ratios seemed more and more confusing with every step I pieced together. I was fairly sure I’d gotten at least four of these sums wrong.

And it did no favours to my concentration when I discovered the existence of a small marker-drawn black dot near the foot of my bed.

Over the past couple of days, I’d paid more attention to these things, marks of a killer, scattered across the house like misplaced socks, and with every new one I found, they looked more and more sinister, and felt unsettling to be around.

And if I stared at one of these marks for too long, I swear I could see them getting-

My phone rang.

I snapped my gaze and reached for my phone. The caller-ID read ‘Cass’.

Cass was short for Cassidy Teigen, Lila’s sister and best friend. We’d lived close to each other (Cassidy was settled down in DC), and we’d stayed for two years there, not like our usual one year. Lila and Cassidy were alike in their love for adventure, and in their irresponsibility, having gotten drunk once on New Year’s Eve in a bar. For reasons that I still do not understand, I was on both Lila’s and Cassidy’s speed-dial, so naturally, I was called to pick them up. And when the people on the other end finally figured out that I was, in fact, a 15-year-old without even a driver’s license, they told me to come with an adult with ID, which I had been originally planning on doing anyway.

When I later questioned the hungover sisters with barely concealed exasperation why they thought I was the correct person to be their designated driver, Lila irritably answered, “Because there’s only one 40-year-old between the three of us, and that’s you, kid.” To which Cassidy had grunted in approval.

So, obviously, Cassidy had been more than a little pissed when Lila politely informed her that we were moving. I could tell as her face instantly fell that she thought I would have done something to stop this – after all, we were happy where we were, weren’t we? We were with the only family that ever cared.

So it was even worse to look at when Lila told Cassidy that we were going to Rhode Island, and that it had been entirely my choice.

For a moment, so many emotions ran across Cassidy’s face that it had been hard to catch it all. Confusion, shock, anger, sorrow, betrayal.

Then Cassidy, instead of saying anything either rebellious or mournful, went completely rigid, stalked out of the apartment with an unreadable look in my direction and a contemptuous, “Damn you, Lila.”

After that, both of us were silent for a long time.

Cassidy didn’t visit us or try to contact us anymore after that, and if we were ever in the same supermarket at the same time, she pretended like we didn’t exist.

Even Lila hadn’t tried with Cassidy, cheerfully-not-so-cheerfully assuring me (herself more than me, I think) that Cassidy would eventually come around – she couldn’t be mad at us forever, now could she?

But she could be mad at us forever, and was, except for once on the day we were moving to give me a small hug, saying that it wasn’t right to hold grudges against children. And as if that weren’t bad enough, she hadn’t so much as glanced at Lila before immediately departing.

And now she was calling me.

I picked up.

“Hello, Cassidy,” I greeted cautiously in a neutral voice.

“Kenneth!” came a startled and strangled cry that made me almost jump out of my seat. “Thank goodness you picked up! I’ve tried calling Lila, but it says her phone’s switched off! You won’t believe – no you definitely won’t – I’m so happy to hear from you; I thought you guys had been kidnapped or something! Hell, I thought you guys were dea-”

“Cassidy!” I intervened.

“Right, right, sorry,” Cassidy cleared her throat. She then added in sweet voice, “How are you, Kenneth?”

“You mean right at this moment? Confused by whatever you just said,” I replied.

“Right! Right, right,” Cassidy muttered. “You probably think I’m mad.”

I waited patiently.

“Okay, questions before answers,” she started. “Question one: Where are you?”

“At home, in my room,” I answered.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Cassidy said. “I meant, where are you?”

I paused a moment. “In Knightville,” I then answered, “Rhode Island? You knew where Lila and I were going before we left.”

Silence from the other end.

And then a small, soft, “That’s not possible.”

There were loud rustling noises, like lots of paper being pulled and shoved, forward and aside. They were so loud, I couldn’t entirely hear what Cassidy said next – just a few words like ‘not possible’ and ‘Knightville’ and ‘Rhode Island’ and ‘Utah’, of all things.

“Cassidy, what’s gone into you?” I asked, starting to feel the tiniest bit of fear for my aunt.

But when she replied, she sounded the clearest she had ever been throughout this entire conversation, perhaps even in all the time that I knew her. “Knightville doesn’t exist,” she said.

At that moment, thunder could have struck and split the world and Bleak House in half, but it wouldn’t have stopped me from replying, “What?”

“You heard me. Your Knightville, Rhode Island doesn’t exist, and the only thing closest to it is a ghost town in Utah, with the same name. I can tell you this for certain because I have a degree in history, I checked every geography book there is, including the Internet, and I also bought five different maps of Rhode Island to be absolutely sure.” She paused. “So now it begs the question, where are you both, really?”

There was another pause, in which I was silent for a while, drinking in whatever Cassidy was telling me. I had to assume that whatever Cassidy was telling me was true – she would never mess around with something as serious as this.

“Send me pictures,” I finally said, “send me pictures of your maps. Tomorrow, I’ll go and check up some maps of Rhode Island that I can find here.”

Cassidy sounded surprised when she said, “You’re taking this very well.”

“No other way to take it,” I replied.

“Don’t forget to tell Lila,” she reminded me, before hanging up.

But I had questions, so many questions that I needed answers to.

But I only had an answer to one of them, and that enough to make me want to get more.

Yes, something was very wrong with Knightville.

Think of this as a New Year's Special, my dears.

Taglist: @jeahreading, @mayaheronthorn, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay. Frohes Neues Jahr!

[wri0thesley]

Happy birthday! Fun fact, we are legit birthday twins! I have been treating myself by imagining what different yans would do for the birthday

My personal favorites so far have been Sampo “treating” you, by taking you out, going out to dinner, getting you lavish presents — taking note of how much it all costs just so he can give you a lop sided smile and say “Huh, would yah look at that? This all adds up to exactly what you owed me before we got together, darling. Looks like we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we’d just gotten together before you owed me,” at the end

Also, just, yandere Diluc. He wants to make this worth it for you, he wants to make it a good day. Sure, you’re trapped inside, with him — but he can make it nice! Adelinde bakes you a cake and everything. He’ll get you whatever you want, within reason. Nothing too sharp, of course. Nothing that could be used to hurt yourself, or him. And nothing that makes you too homesick. But yes, within reason

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALSO TO THIS ANON!!! <3

and gosh. that's just like sampo, isn't it? or yan sampo is totalling up everything he gives you to make sure that later on, the 'services rendered' are paid back threefold on your back. hey, what's a birthday without a birthday orgasm? for him, he means. you can have one too! he's a generous guy!

gepard nervously giving you a gift he agonised over with serval and tripping over himself in surprise when you love it. welt drawing you a little something and bringing out a gift from one of the planets he travelled on before you came aboard. luocha giving you a single everlasting flower with a smile on his face and a coy answer about where he got it from.

diluc who tried so hard to get you something you'd love but wouldn't hurt you - an ornamental carved wooden bird, a jigsaw puzzle, new soft slippers and pretty gowns (though he leaves the lacings in his own locked drawer, just in case. despite it all, he treats it like a normal birthday. if you squint, it could almost be one. waaaa

pantalone and ayato who spoil you and lavish you with gifts! kaveh who was broke at the time of your birthday but takes you to the tavern and puts it on alhaitham's tab and then takes you to the most beautiful views in sumeru and presents you a beautiful piece of artwork he's been agonising over. tighnari who bred a whole new species of flower for you! i am beating my fists on the floor i love them all

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

Please tell me what you can about Break my Baby. I love a good Max.

Adira, my dear(a) 💖

This idea has had me in a chokehold for literal years but I've just never gotten serious about writing it. The gist is that Max sweet-talks his assistant into going to a corporate retreat with him, where forced-proximity shenanigans and budding attraction ensue. BUT on the way home they're in a car accident and the assistant is mortally wounded, so Max has to make the quick decision to turn her instead of letting her die. They navigate her new vamp life together and (of course) end up in fluffy eternal love.

A little piece of a scene under the cut (tbh I don't know why it's in first person. the muse wants what it wants):

***

Max looks up from his desk with a dazzling smile when I walk into his office juggling his coffee and mine along with my purse and laptop bag.

"There's my favorite little juice box."

"Stop calling me that, it was one time. When you were allegedly at... undeath's door."

He gives an exaggerated frown, swallowing a swig of the black coffee I’ve unloaded onto his desk. "Allegedly? Sunshine, you wound me."

"Don't tempt me. Home Depot has stakes, you know."

"Speaking of steaks, have dinner with me tonight."

"No, thank you."

"You work too hard. You deserve a nice meal, a glass of wine. Creme brulee for dessert."

The thought trickles through my mind, syrupy and comforting and a little fuzzy around the edges, like a drop of warm honey.

It has been a long day, and I am hungry, and that place two blocks over does an amazing creme brulee.

And Max isn't that bad, after all, and he'll be on his best behav—

Wait a minute.

I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I dig my fingers into the tender flesh of my tricep and pinch, like my sister used to do when we’d fight as kids. The sudden clarity makes me shake my head.

"Really, Max?"

He only shrugs. "What am I supposed to do? You're no fun."

"You don't pay me enough to be fun."

"Well, let me get the paperwork to HR and I’ll call for a reservation."

"If there's nothing else, I have emails to answer," I say, turning toward the door.

"Oh, yeah." Max starts flicking through papers on his desk. "There's that thing this weekend, I need you to go with me."

I blink. "The thing? What thing?"

"You know..." He waves one hand in a distracted circle. "The thing for the company."

"No, I don’t know. Mind-reading is supposed to be your thing."

"I've told you, I can't read minds. This," he says, fishing a brochure out of the pile. "The sales managers' annual retreat."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a sales manager. And I have plans this weekend."

Binge-watching the Great British Bake Off over takeout absolutely counts as plans.

"Cancel 'em. I need my trusty assistant, gotta impress corporate with how organized and efficient I am."

"You mean, how organized and efficient I am," I counter. "Again, plans."

“Just look at the brochure.” Max shifts tactics to turn the puppy-dog eyes up to eleven. “An all-expense-paid weekend at an exclusive resort upstate, how can you say no to that? You do work too hard, you know.” 

Begrudgingly, I open the glossy brochure he’s shoved into my hands. Rolling green hills surround a hotel that looks like a French chateau. Smiling people are playing golf, swimming in a massive indoor pool, relaxing in a sauna, clinking champagne glasses in a gold-trimmed dining room. A bed as big as my studio apartment is dressed in crisp white linens, with mints on the pillows.

Binging the Great British Bake-Off in a free fancy hotel room wouldn’t be too bad, as plans go.

I look back to Max, watching me expectantly. “You drive and pay for gas,” I start.

Victory sparks in his dark eyes. “Fair enough.”

“During free time, I get to do whatever I want. No meetings, no spreadsheets, no fetching extra ice for your drink.”

“You won’t even know I’m there.” He lays a hand over his lifeless heart like he’s taking an oath of office or something.

This is going better than I expected. Might as well shoot for the moon.

“And I get a clothing allowance. I don’t have any resortwear.”

“You need any help shopping? I drove past the mall the other day, and Victoria’s Secret had this little red number in the window—”

“What do you think?” I ask dryly.

A grin dimples his cheek. “You drive a hard bargain, Sunshine. Deal.”

“Seriously?”

“Eh, why not? I’ll expense everything, anyway. Just have to get creative with the codes.”

This is probably a mistake. 

Best-case scenario, I’ll have stories to tell at cocktail parties. If I’m ever invited to one, that is. Worst case, I end up in prison for staking my boss.

“Fine,” I sigh. “What time are we leaving?”

“I’ll pick you up at 7:30 sharp on Friday morning. Can’t miss the welcome breakfast,” Max says cheerfully.

“Your turn to bring my coffee, then. I want a—”

“Decaf caramel latte with almond milk, extra whip. I know.”

I frown. “Yeah. That.” 

“Well, don’t let me keep you. Those emails won’t answer themselves, am I right?” Max dismisses me with a wink and a flourish of finger guns.

Finger guns.

After two years of working for Max, my eye roll is a reflex. He’s so corny, it distracts me from the weirdness of the most self-focused person I know paying attention to my coffee order.

***

Thank you for asking!