#being here making 17$ to do fuck all all day is wASTING IT

[felidaefatigue]

going to start invoicing people who respond to learning I'm decent at art with "wow, dont waste it!" or "never give that up!" for $50,000.

[chukys-mouthguard]

#17 Angsty with Mat Barzal

Prompt: “It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

Note: writing angst for mat always has me picturing him just being the absolute cockiest asshole on the planet but i love it so much 🫠

“Mat you act like we haven’t been doing this shit for months now! I get wanting to keep some things private for yourself, but it’s like you're ashamed of me or something!”

He sat with his head in his hands as you paced the floor of his apartment. The two of you having just gotten home from an Islanders home game. Though having to drive separate because Mat and you weren’t together, and you couldn’t be seen with one another.

“It’s not that y/n! You know it’s not anything like that!”

He spat back at you before standing up himself, making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Then what is it? If you’re just looking for a hook up type situation, then I’ll walk out that door right now because I told you from day one that isn’t at all what I wanted. If you’re not interested in me anymore, then fine. But don’t sit here and lie to me when it’s obvious something is going on. You won’t be seen with me. I can’t wear your jersey number, I can’t meet any of the guys or their girlfriends. I’m your secret or something, and I don’t understand why!”

Mat sighed as he saw the tears in your eyes, hating to see you so upset, but he knew this was best. Keeping your relationship like it was. It was better this way, less complicated.

“It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

He sipped his beer as you shook your head.

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wary of where it might lead? It’s been eight months at this point Mat, not quite sure where else we are headed.”

He knew he should’ve never let things go on as long as they had, but like he said, you had this power over him. He couldn’t commit to you. But he also couldn’t let you go. Despite how much he cared about you and liked you, he knew this couldn’t be anything more. Not now.

“I can’t put a label on this or introduce you to everyone because god forbid this goes south, I can’t go through that. I need to be focused on my game right now, the second I start introducing you to people and the things that come with that, it’s going to be too much pressure. I don’t want to deal with any of that right now, that’s why I like things where they are at. I get it, it’s been months, you want more. You need more. But I can’t give that right now, and I won’t give you that. I know what I want, and that’s not a label. I don’t need a girlfriend, nor do I want one.”

His words cut through you like a knife. The man you’d fallen for turning out to be nothing you ever thought he was. Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you did your best to suck up your emotions. Mat not deserving another one of your tears.

“So, what was the point? You were just keeping me around for fun? For company? To waste my time when you knew what I wanted?”

Mat simply shrugging as he brought his beer back to his lips for another sip. “I care about you, so fucking much. And I told you, you have this power over me where I can’t just walk away and let you go. I, I want to think it will get better. That things will change. But I’m also not going to give in and change things thinking that we are headed that way. So yeah, maybe I’m being selfish for keeping you around rather than ending this knowing it’s not what you want. But, I still want you here. I still want this with you. As long as you can accept where I stand. If you can’t, then that’s fine too.”

You scoffed as you grabbed your keys, “That’s fine too? You know what….you’re right, I do have power over you. And I’m taking that power to walk away from what a piece of shit you are. Go fuck yourself Mathew Barzal.”

[warlocksoup]

debt: r. suna

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

chapter one

now playing: her and cigarettes by cheap girls

Okay.

There’s about ¥100,000 in her bank account, give or take a couple of hundred. Rent is ¥83,000 and due in three days, which knocks out a pretty big chunk. Electric, gas, and water she paid for earlier this month, so that’s good. The fridge is running pretty bare, almost nothing but impulse orders of takeout leftovers that’ll go bad in just a couple of days, if they’re lucky. Groceries run at about ¥20,000 per trip, but she can pinch there, and it can just be another month where everyone’s dissatisfied with their meals. But then there are those fucking phone bills.

She sits at the kitchen table, a cigarette in one hand and her face in the other. No phones this month, she figures. What the fuck else is she supposed to do.

The paper bills and ripped up envelopes stare back at her, mocking her. Her younger siblings are rushing around her, scrambling to get ready for school and making as much noise as they fucking can while they do it. It’s always fucking something.

“I have another couple of tutoring sessions,” Haru (younger brother #2, age 17, student, smug little shit) says, standing at the open fridge, and then closing it again when he realizes that there’s nothing of substance in there. “That should help.”

“Yeah, what would fucking help is if Ryu paid me that money he owes me,” she says, putting out her cigarette on the jar lid she uses as an ashtray. “The fucker’s been camped out at his girlfriend’s house so he thinks he can just-oh fuck!”

Aya (younger sister #2, age 7, student, brat) runs into the corner of the kitchen, table, shaking the enter thing, and knocking a cup of black coffee into the pile of unpaid bills.  She stands, scrambling to grab at some thin paper towels to clean it up with. “What the fuck Aya?”

The girl’s teary-eyed, like she normally is, but it’s too early in the morning to deal with it. “I can’t find my backpack!” she cries out, as if this is some sort of explanation.

She sighs, too tired for it all and scheduled to be at work in just an hour and twenty minutes. “Fucking. Eri!” she calls out into the void of their three-bedroom apartment.

From the depths, Eri (younger sister #1, age 13, student, literal nightmare), calls back out. “Fucking what?”

“Help your sister find her backpack for school!” she yells, hands still occupied with the mess of bills and hot coffee. She thinks that someone should be helping her, but is not surprised that no one is. That’s usually how it goes.

“I’m busy!” Eri screams back, already annoyed.

She’s wasted half a roll of paper towels by now, she balls it up, and moves to toss it in the trash, half of her hoping she didn’t bundle up any of the bills along with it, the other half of her hoping she did. She passes Haru on her way to the trash. “Haru, help your sister.”

“I can’t,” he says. “I gotta go. I wrote an essay for this rich kid. He’s paying me ¥7,000 for it. I’m meeting him now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Since when are people paying you to write their essays?”

Haru smirks. “Since you stopped being able to pay the bills.”

Her eyes roll, and she raises a hand to gently knock the back of his head. “Alright, fuck off, go get paid,” she says, and with her permission, he’s ducking out the back door before she can blink.

Aya cries out here name, and she turns to face her again. Her face is red, and tear stained. “I don’t wanna get in trouble!”

If she’s really, really honest with herself, and maybe this makes her a bit of a shit sister, she really doesn’t give a fuck if Aya gets in trouble with her teacher or not. Everyone in this house is constantly in trouble, for something, and she just doesn’t have it in her to give a shit if one sibling is getting a scolding.

But it’s sort of her job to take care of it.

She sighs. “Alright, c’mon, let’s find your backpack.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

She stands in the damp air, hair tied up loosely on the top of her head, and phone pressed to her ear. The fry oil from the restaurant she’s serving at combined with the wet stench of the dumpster is nauseating. The phone rings.

“It’s Ryuji. I don’t wanna fucking talk to you. Leave a message.”

Her foot taps against the pavement. The phone beeps. “Hey, you stupid fuck. If you’re gonna up and leave and screw over the rest of us, make sure you pay me back the money you owe me before. Call me back, or I’m sending Suna over there to break your jaw.”

She hangs up and tightens her ponytail before she goes back inside. Her fifteen minutes are up

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Suna reaches over and takes the cigarette from between her lips. She turns her head and glares at him. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

They’re on the rooftop of this abandoned soba restaurant. When they were kids, it was the best place in a four-town radius to get soba, but then the owner went and died from a heart attack about eight years back, and it’s been sitting abandoned ever since.

They used to come here when they were younger, too. Thirteen and discovering cigarettes and how fucking amazing it was to get away from your parents for the first time. They would smoke and eat shrimp chips and run from the cops whenever the owner got fed up with the smell of nicotine wafting down into his restaurant and called them.

It’s gotten a little more peaceful up there for them, since he died.

Suna leans against the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground beneath them, and he grins. “You love me.”

She reaches into the pocket of her sweatshirt for a second one, slightly cursing him under her breath. “Whatever,” she grumbles, flicking the end of her lighter. Smoke enters her lungs again, and she exhales. “By the way, don’t freak out if you can’t reach me this month, like you did last time.”

Suna raises an eyebrow at her. “What, can’t pay your phone bill again?”

She leans her back against the edge of the roof and sinks into it. “Yep.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “gotta get groceries again. More important than answering your texts at three in the goddamn morning, unfortunately.”

Suna shakes his head. “Nah, fuck that. I’m paying your phone bill.”

She shoots him a glare. “Would you piss off? You’re not paying for shit.”

Suna always does this. Slips her money when he thinks she’s not looking. Swiping bills off her counter and calling to pay them once he’s in the safety of his own apartment. She hates it, and she hates that it helps. It wounds her pride, and it makes Suna indispensable to her. It sucks.

And he knows she hates it, too. Which makes it all the more insufferable when he grins, and says, “Yeah, I am.”

“No, Rin, you’re not,” she insists, even though she knows he’s going to do it.

He blows smoke in her face. “What, are you gonna stop me? I’ll kick your ass.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. You’ve gotta stop letting me scam you out of money.”

The night’s cool and fresh. The sky is this dark shade of blue that reminds her of the bruises that seem to be a permanent feature of Suna’s skin. “You’re not scamming me out of anything. I’m providing for you,” he tells her. “Just another reason we should get married.”

She’s gonna throttle him. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Suna persists. She knows he’s serious. He always serious, every single fucking time he brings it up. “You know I’ll take care of you.”

“What about the kids?”

The kids. She says it like they’re hers. Like she had any choice in them ending up on her lap.

Suna shrugs. “I’ll take care of them too.”

“And what happens when someone breaks your face in and kills you in one of your little street fights?”

“Life insurance,” is Suna’s simple answer.

She stares at him, incredulous for a second. “I’m not marrying you,” she says again, because she knows he’s not going to listen to it.

Maybe she would, if things were different. But things are exactly as they are, and all she can do is live with it.

Suna looks back out over the roof. “You will, one day.”

She punches him in the arm, and he yelps. “Would you shut up with this? You’re too broke for me, anyways.”

“Is that all it is?” Suna asks, and his tone is suddenly different. He doesn’t look back at her. “Is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

She thinks about it, for a second. “I dunno,” she replies. “Maybe I’d find other reasons to say no if I had enough money to think about anything else.”

When Suna looks back at her, he’s grinning. “Well, fine. Let’s get you some cash then.”

thank you shameless season one for the inspiration

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @mfcherry @soobin1437 @19calicos @snail-squasher @jadeoru @piapiaweee3 @cannibalsrider @just-coreee @honeekyuu @seroh @syverse @t8tiana @sonicsoloss @cupidsblonde @savemebrazilhinata @linhhs @toges-cough-syrup @s777athv @an-na-bella-blog @moucheslove @droppingthegloves @w4nyoung @theblueslytherin @soulfullystarry @Queer-Flower @starkyu @renkitsune @sunakeiji @renardiererin @honeycrispappletree @asthmaticcchoeee @aquariarose @s1ncerelyy0urs @holaseniorahoe @softpia @akaashislovee @iiwaijime @Whatisnerotypical @megmercury @myeomiz @strxwberri-s @thecoolestlia @kr1nqu @whorefornoodles @iluv-ace

[hibiscusol]

IVY - rafe cameron .⋆·˚ ༘ *

navigation ! masterlist

warnings: language and mentions of alcohol

summary: rafe came back after swearing he never would.

author's note: we are sooo back guys :]

The moment Rafe’s hand snaked up your waist after three years of no contact, your mind went full-blank.

You never thought that Rafe, of all people - who are you kidding, you always did - would come back one day after swearing on his dad that he never would.

It’s not like he ever really liked his dad anyway.

So as you turned around in shock to connect your drunk glossy eyes to his, it felt wrong. So wrong. Sarah had told you he’d found someone new. That he’d found a pretty blonde who looked better next to him. She’d never say it to your face, but the pictures you’d see on his account screamed it at you.

It took you a second to remember that he probably mistook you for her, and you take a step back, shaking your head quickly.

“Wait, Y/N,” He whispers, and even in the bustling crowd, it reaches you just fine. You wait and turn, feeling dizzy. “Excuse me?” You say, too stunned to make up any other words. You want to shove him away and scream at him, yet his fucking beautiful blue eyes hold you in place. 

“Can we talk? By my bike?” He says, inching a little closer so that his voice would reach you. His body towers over yours and the blue and purple lights dim a little.

“No?!” You say defensively, making it sound more like a question. “Who even are you?” You say jokingly, your freshly manicured hand landing on his shoulder and pushing him slightly away. He doesn’t resist. He takes a step back and puts his hands up in understanding. “Y/N. Please. I need to tell you some things I needed to tell you all those years ago.” 

You feel your eyes sting, and a tear rolls away. You instantly turn away from him to the backyard, looking at all the half-naked people in the pool, even though your eyes are getting blurry.

He doesn’t say anything. He knows you. He waits for you to turn around.

“Your drinking problem never went away, did it?” You finally manage, barely saying it without crying. Your voice breaks, but he doesn’t notice it with the loud sound of bass-boosted Travis Scott playing in the background.

“No, Y/N, I know I’m drunk. Which is probably why I’m not rethinking this. Just 5 minutes. Please.” He says, frowning. He sounds like he’s going to cry too.

“Isn’t she here?” You spit out, rolling your eyes. Your heart has never beaten so fast before. You believe him. It must’ve been a big deal if it’s still breaking him after three years. “I tried to make me and her work. She’s not you.” He says and your heart stops.

It fucking stops.

“Rafe, stop it. You’re being mean,” You say, raising your voice. You don’t want to believe him. You don’t want to believe all the tears you shed were for nothing. You don’t want to believe when Sarah told you herself that his brother sucked, you felt like the only person who understood yourself. You hated him, yet you loved him too. And you didn’t want to believe he was sorry. You wanted to get the closure and move on. But every day, you found yourself refusing to take the picture of you and him off your bedstand. Just in case this happened.

“Mean? Y/N, what are you saying? I…” He says and you interrupt. “No, Rafe, I’m not fucking falling for this again.” You say and shake your head. Your hands are feeling so empty. You want to grab his flesh, hug him, and tell him you forgive him. For ignoring your calls when things would be rough at home all those years ago. For getting wasted and coming home, yelling at you because his dad had cut his only source of income for his rich shit. You wanna tell him it’s okay, that he was 17 and you know he didn’t know life isn’t just about that. But you can’t. Because what if he doesn’t think that like you do? What if that girl is waiting for him to come back with her drink?

“For what? Baby, I…” His voice breaks again when he calls you baby, and your body stiffens. He sounds broken and you can’t help but put your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t call me that,” You say, making it sound like advice and not a threat. “You should leave, you’re not feeling okay. You’re out of your…” You say and he shakes his head. “No, Y/N, I’m not okay because you won’t let me talk to you. I didn’t want to ruin your night, I just… I have to tell you how I feel. I’ve bottled it up for too long.”

A tear rolls down your face, and he notices it. “Don’t cry, I’m… I’m sorry.” There you go. He’s said it. He’s sorry.

The magic word. It goes through your brain and every single cell, making you shiver. You nod involuntarily, wiping your tears away with the palm of your hand. “You’re crying too.” You say, looking down at the space between the two of you. He’s wearing the shoes you bought him for his 17th birthday.

“I am.” He says and sniffs, looking away. He chuckles to lighten the mood and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry for everything. I was a kid and I didn’t realize what I was doing wrong. I know better now.” He says and nods repeatedly. 

“And I’m not with her. I… we didn’t even like each other like that. She once asked me if I was gay because of how uninterested I was.” He says and you laugh. The fact that something not even funny could sound funny coming out of his mouth makes you blush. He smiles from ear to ear when he hears your laugh. “I missed that laugh.” He whispers.

“So… do you forgive me?” He says and your smile disappears. “Wait, Y/N, don’t be like that. I’ve changed. I’ll change more. I’ll change however you want if it means I’ll have you again…”

“Okay, Rafe, I understand.” You say and nod. “I just… why three years? Where were you?” You say and rub your forehead.

He takes a deep breath and puts his drink down. He hesitates to cup your face, but then you give him the nod of permission, and he does. “Because I wasn’t in a good enough place to be with you. I wanted you to be with someone you truly deserved, even if it wasn’t me.”

The next few seconds happen before you can digest his words. His lips part and gently crash onto yours, making your breath get stuck in your throat. His head leans forward and his thumb caresses your jawline as you melt into him. You smile through the kiss and your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer. 

He pulls away abruptly and you frown. “Wha…” You try to protest but he stops you. “As much as I would love to keep on kissing you and more, I’m not here for this tonight. I’m not too drunk to drive so let’s go under that one tree we always hung out under. Come on.” His words make you chuckle as he pulls on your hand through the crowd, leading you to his bike. No matter how intoxicated you both are, you feel safe with him for the first time, because you know he’s not the same person he was all those years ago.

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."

Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"

"Your asking price is too high."

"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."

"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"

"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."

"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"

"No."

"Worth a shot."

They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.

"You really think they won't pay up?"

"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."

Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."

"Yeah."

Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.

"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee shakes their head.

"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."

"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.

Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.

"You're upset."

"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"

"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."

"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."

"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."

"You want me to... work for you?"

"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."

"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.

"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"

Whumpee nods.

Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.

"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Next >

[sideeve]

I FUCKING HATE YOU | with 42!miles

— “why is miles such a fucking dick?”

part 2 of open arms (per request) , angst really , falling in and out of love , n word use (like one time) , toxic!miles , deep down he really does love you , cyber stalking IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! MILES IS A MINOR ! !

he waited in his room for you to come back. days turned into weeks. weeks turned into months. and those months turned into 3 years.

exactly today was the day that you left. he couldn’t believe it himself. after all those years you two spent together. wasted.

but he never left you alone.

after the incident in his room, you had blocked him on everything. but making new accounts is a thing.

he was the first one to like every single one of your posts. and he commented a single red heart.

he wasn’t obsessed. no. he just wanted you bad at all costs.

you didn’t know that it was him. and he was going to keep it that way.

when stalking your social media wasn’t enough, he had went to your school and got a visitors pass. he needed to see you.

you were so breathtaking from afar. which sacred him for when he sees you up close. he smiled as you talked to your friends. but then he wasn’t.

you kissed a guy. presumably your boyfriend.

he saw red.

you leave him just to find a boyfriend? pathetic.

later that night, he had followed you to your dorm room.

well, actually he broke in before you got in there.

“hey ma.” his voice was deeper than usual. like he’s upset. “miles?” you flick your light on, miles’ fave being the first you see, leaned up against your wall. “what are doing here? how did you find me?”

he chuckles, “you don’t keep a private life.” “you’re a fucking psycho.” he places his hand on his heart, “such hurtful word, mami.”

he stand up, inching closer to you. “who’s the nigga you be with?” his nose was touching yours. he had backed you into a wall. “that’s none of your concern.”

he smirks, “you don’t know, do you?” “what?” you clear your throat. “no matter where you go, i will find you. you’re mine.”

his eyes flashed a devilish glare.

he was fucking crazy.

his lips ghost over yours before spoke, “i love you.”, finally kissing you.

it was wrong, you know, but you’ve been dreaming on this since you were 13.

his hand cupped your neck, pulling you closer to him. you had accepted this.

you pulled away, needing to catch your breath. “jesus.” you chuckle. “don’t leave me again, please.”

“promise.”

taglist : @snowspidey @duckyduck25 @ca1ist0 @missusmorales

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Dark Chocolate with Prompt 17 and 4 for Kaku Please?

Yandere Kaku x GN!Reader

1k words

Prompts:

I feel like I’m in a romance novel.

I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here.”

Of all the things that could have happened today, you definitely didn’t anticipate that one of them would involve your ex climbing through your window as if the past few months hadn’t happened. 

“I understand you’re upset, but please let me explain myself.” Kaku held up his hands and approached you like you were a skittish animal.

You couldn’t believe the audacity of this man to come into your home and start making demands. Why the hell should you listen to someone who abandoned you without so much as a word to you. You didn’t want to even look at him right now. Pointing at the window, you yell at him, “Absolutely not! Get out!”

“Please, doll, there’s no need to holler. I promise I can make this right.” His attempts to placate you only made you angrier. 

“Do not call me doll, Kaku,” every word was dripping with venom. He didn’t deserve to call you that anymore. “Do you have any idea what you put me through? What it was like to wake up one day only to find out that my boyfriend- who I wasted two years of my life with- up and disappeared without a trace? You couldn’t be bothered to speak with me or even leave a fucking note, but now all of a sudden you want to talk? Please. I’m done with you, so don’t even bother.”

While he was off doing who knows what, you were left inconsolable and to pick up the pieces of your broken heart by yourself. There were countless nights where you would cry yourself to sleep while wondering if it was something that you did. Him leaving the way he did made it impossible to get closure. That may have hurt you before, but now you didn’t want it. You’d rather stay in the dark than have to hear whatever sob story Kaku comes up with.

Kaku’s face fell, and the hurt on his face was palpable. A small, traitorous part of your heart ached at the expression, but you pushed yourself through it. You weren’t going to let him yank you around and play these kinds of games.

“I’m not leaving, please give me a fighting chance here.” His tone was practically begging.

“Fine.” His eyes lit up. “I’ll leave then, and you better not still be here when I come back.”

Not even giving him a chance to respond, you spin around and march towards the door, desperate to get out of this situation. It was definitely ridiculous to storm out of your own home when it should be him, but you didn’t have the energy or desire to argue with him.

Before you could reach it, Kaku abruptly appeared in front of you, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.Your mind struggles to process what just happened. Not only did you not hear any footsteps, you never even saw him move. How did he do that?

Kaku took advantage of your shocked state to grab your arms and push you back into a chair. You try to struggle out of his grip, but he won’t budge. Him being strong was hardly news to you, but his hands felt like iron shackles around you.

“I know that what I did was awful, but I need to talk to you, and you aren’t going anywhere until I’m done.” He paused to see if you would speak up again, and when you didn’t, he continued, “I’m sorry for leaving how I did, but I need you to understand that it wasn’t my choice to do so that way.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at that, “Then what happened?”

“I,” he averted his eyes, “can’t give you all the details on that yet, but I can after you come with me and you’re somewhere safe.”

That was an alarming statement. What does he mean he can’t tell you until you’re somewhere safe? And safe from what? Not to mention it is simply insane of him to come here with the assumption that you would ever agree to go with him.

“I know I wronged you. I’ll never deny that, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives making up for it. I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?”

“Excuse me?” There were several parts of what he just said that needed to be addressed. “First of all, there is no “our” between us. We are completely separate individuals, and I don’t want to see you again after today. Secondly, yes, it is wrong to want me after what you pulled. I’m over you, and you need to get over me.”

Kaku pursed his lips with a pained expression on his face and looked down. “I’m sorry.” He steps back, and for a moment you’re hopeful that he is about to leave. Suddenly, he lunges forward and hauls you up and over his shoulder. “But leaving without you isn’t an option. Don’t worry, I’ve already gotten this approved of. We’re going to be happy together, even if it takes time.”

“What the hell are you talking about?! Put me down!” You thrash in his hold, but it’s just as fruitless as it was earlier. He approaches the window he snuck in through to climb out, and in a last ditch attempt to prevent your kidnapping, you grab onto the windowsill with all your strength. This successfully brings him to a halt.

There’s a pause, followed by Kaku sighing. “Now, now, quit throwing a hissy fit,” he tuts. With minimal effort, he lurches forward, dislodging you from the frame you were clinging to. 

With that, he jumps up onto the roof and takes off, leaping from building to building completely carefree as if he wasn’t actively abducting you. Wind rushed around you as you screamed from the dizzying heights you were being forced to experience. You’d allowed him to carry you while doing this once before and had tapped out almost immediately, but you didn’t have that luxury this time around.

Completely ignoring your terror and protests, he laughs with pure, unadulterated glee. “Look at us! A couple of lovebirds running away to be together, I feel like I’m in a romance novel!” Not a single part of him appeared to be acknowledging the reality of the situation. He was completely delusional and there was nothing you could say to make him understand. You were completely at his mercy.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 17

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Trigger Warning: Brief mention of S.A.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

Dr. Miller didn’t need a single direction to my home. I began saying take a left here, or a right there and he eventually just chuckled to himself. It was as if he had taken the route countless times, and I suddenly wondered if he had. If I wasn’t so wholeheartedly into him, I would have been properly freaked out. But I wasn’t. At all.

“What am I going to tell Tori?” I asked Dr. Miller as we pulled into the driveway of my home. I knew that him being my professor was taboo and completely frowned upon. Even my friend couldn’t know, at least at the moment.

He popped the driver’s side door open nonchalantly and winked. “I’m just.. Joel. The guy you’re seeing.”

“Just Joel?” I gave a hearty laugh. “Just Joel..” I shook my head now, still smiling and internally wanting to make a Barbie movie reference. 

Dr. Miller laughed lightly. “I’m a businessman taking a business course at Woodbridge at night. We met after class, went for a drink and we hit it off.”

“That’s the story?”

“That’s the story.” He nodded, still grinning as if it were a game. “Now, come on.”

I exited the vehicle when his door clicked shut as he got out and walked side-by-side with him up the short walkway.

My heart raced. I wanted to talk about guys with Tori, particularly this guy. But having to lie on the spot to my friend, even just the smallest of details on how we met, had me on edge. I wasn’t particularly used to lying.

When I wandered in through the front door, my roommate was sitting on the couch with a remote in her hand and a bag of chips on her lap.

“Hey,” she greeted, “Work was a bitch today and..” Tori stopped mid sentence, “Oh..” Her eyes looked Dr. Miller up and down and she froze. “Hello.”

“Tori, this is Joel.” It still felt awkward for me to call him that. It was both a problem and a turn-on. I didn’t waste time worrying about it right then.

“Hi, Joel.” She was awe-struck for a moment and just stared at this older, well-put together man before her.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He extended an arm as he crossed the room to greet her.

Tori rose to her feet and shook his hand, side-eying me as she did for just a half-a-second. “Nice to meet you, too.” She couldn’t keep a smile from creeping on her face and Dr. Miller looked between the two of us as we exchanged a truly girly laugh - in cliche fashion.

“Do you have a bathroom I could use?” He asked. I knew he was giving us a window to talk to one another and so I directed him around the corner.

“Thank you.”

Immediately, as the door closed, Tori grabbed my arm, smiling bigger than I had ever seen her do.

“Um.. what the actual fuck.” She laughed, and basically whisper-shouted at me. “Who the fuck is Joel?”

“Shh..” I laughed with her, “He’s.. a guy.”

“A guy?” Her eyes wandered toward the doorway he’d just walked through to leave the room. “Lady, that is a man. That is a hot man. I don’t even know where to start with my questions.” She fanned herself, “Is that where you’ve disappeared these past few days?”

I nodded. “It’s new. I’m.. feeling it out.”

“Feeling him out is more like it, you whore.”

I laughed out loud and flicked her arm.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“No, you’re not wrong.” I laughed still, “I have so much to tell you.” A part of me suddenly felt guilty for leaving so abruptly again. “I think I’m going back to his house again. Is that… is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Tori fanned herself again, “Number one, I’m not your mom or your babysitter. Number two, that man is sex on legs, girl. I can tell. Go get it. Besides, I’ve had my usual company here.” She spoke of the guy, Derek, she had been seeing and wandered toward the window, pushing the curtains aside. “And he drives a Mercedes? A fucking Mercedes!”

“I will tell you everything,” I promised.

“Yes, you will.” She smiled, “How’d you meet him?”

“He was taking a business class at Woodbridge. We bumped into each other one night and ended up talking, went out for a drink.” I shrugged, going along with the fake story that Dr. Miller had created.

“Wow. You sure he’s not a professor?” She was joking, but I froze for just a second before beginning to chuckle.

“Yeah, right.” I avoided her eye contact, a habit that went along with my terrible lying ability.

Dr. Miller rejoined us in the living room with the clear of his throat to let us both know he had returned.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go pack a bag.” I looked at Tori, who couldn’t help but smirk. There would be a time soon when we would get to talk and I would unleash as many details as possible. I was longing to talk about it with someone - especially her.

As I rounded the corner and headed down to my room, I heard Dr. Miller and Tori casually begin to carry on with a conversation. I was sure she was peppering him with questions. She was far more outgoing than me in that way.

I whipped through my closet, finding some of my most comfortable outfits and some of my finest. I didn’t know what I was doing, really, or how long I would be staying with him. I grabbed every pair of clean underwear I could find and gathered all of my essentials, from makeup to deodorant to my toothbrush. When I thought I had all of my bases covered, I eagerly returned to the living room with a backpack on and a second Adidas duffle bag slung over my shoulder.

“I was just telling Tori you girls should have an alarm system here,” Dr. Miller said as I reentered the living room.

“It’s very thoughtful of him,” Tori said to me, holding my eye contact extra long until I cracked another smile. 

I looked at Dr. Miller now. “It is.”

He smiled back at me, “Just looking out.”

“Well,” Tori looked at me and walked up to give me a hug, “I’ll see you.. when I see you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly near her ear as we hugged.

“Don’t be,” she assured me with confidence, “You’re allowed to have a love life.” Tori added, because she’s a good friend, “Don’t worry about me. It’s giving me some much needed time with Derek, too.”

I smiled, feeling a little better knowing that. “Okay, good.”

Dr. Miller stood back as we exchanged goodbyes, bid Tori a farewell and a, “Nice meeting you,” as we made our way back out the front door. When we got back into the car he turned to me. “Would you be opposed to me getting an alarm system installed in this place?”

I shook my head, “No. But we just rent.” I actually wasn’t sure what was allowed and what wasn’t.

“If you’re going to be staying with me, it’s better off if Tori has some protection at the house,” he added, “Or if you’re there.”

“Yeah. I mean I guess it wouldn’t be a problem.” 

He nodded and started the car, “You okay with coming back?” Dr. Miller linked his hand with mine as he drove with his left hand.

“I thought about going back to your house all day,” I confessed, “Or I hoped.”

He squeezed my hand, “Just making sure.”

“Hey, they have a suspect in the case of those girls who were killed on campus,” I said, regurgitating Olivia’s information. “Some guy named Alec something or other.”

Dr. Miller turned to me as we drove and then slowly glanced back to the road. “I read that.”

“My coworker, Olivia, told me today.”

“Sex offender, right?” Dr. Miller asked.

“Yep.” I nodded, “Why do they even let those people out?”

“A fucked up justice system,” he said immediately, “Those assholes get less time than drug addicts, and people who commit grand theft auto.” Dr. Miller shook his head, “I’m not condoning stealing cars, but cars are replaceable. They’re property. Someone like Alec Pryor steals a person’s soul,” He glanced at me, “Or their life. And they never get it back.”

“Do you think they’ll catch him?” I asked.

Dr. Miller’s hand squeezed mine and he let it go when he felt me wince. “I..” He shook his head, “I don’t know.”

“Why’d you say they wouldn’t find the guy when we met in the office with Trevor?”

He hesitated and seemed to be wrestling himself for an answer. “Because I..” Dr. Miller was having trouble finding his words. He paused for a long moment and I even thought the conversation might have ended when he failed to speak for an extended period of time. “I just think he.. had enough time to flee. And people are probably going to cover him for him.”

“Yeah, but eventually they’ll find him,” I thought out loud and looked at him as if he truly had the answer to every single question I had in life. “Right?”

Dr. Miller kept his stare out the windshield. I could tell he didn’t believe the one-word answer he spoke. “Right.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 17- Does This Movie Really Scare You?

Here is something from the Skater Boirry universe hehehehehe

FICTOBER

Patreon

Warnings- idk if this needs it but I know some of y'all are afraid of haunted dolls so a movie w that is mentioned so dsfbsbakndbfask

------

“Does this movie really scare you?” Y/N giggled, feeling Harry hide his face in her hair. 

She had not at all anticipated her boyfriend being nervous about a movie about a haunted doll, but she was finding it a little comical. Harry was usually pretty nonchalant about things, wasn’t scared of much, so when she suggested they have a scary movie marathon for halloween instead of getting wasted, he was fine with it. They’d made some snacks and Harry had even bought her a cute halloween blanket- it had Sanrio characters in halloween costumes in it!- and conceded in the fight of wearing matching Halloween pajamas. He’d even let her post a photo, which was a win for her. 

The first movie had been a documentary called Demon House, one from a paranormal investigator who had bought a seemingly possessed house. Harry had scoffed at some of the evidence they pulled, questioned the validity of others, and didn't seem to mind it. But when Annabell had been pulled up on the screen, he had been much more quiet. 

“It’s not scary.” He scoffed. “It’s just creepy. Who the fuck likes dolls like thay anyways?” He froze for a second, looking to Y/N with an apprehensive look on his face. “For the love of god, please tell me you don’t have any hiding away that I’m going to be exposed to when we move in together.” 

Y/N’s brain malfunctioned slightly at the mere mention of moving in together. It had been mentioned a few times but they were enjoying school currently, but she did always wish they lived together. For real this time. Sleepovers were great, but she’d do anything to wake up to his gentle humming and observation of her every day. Morning Harry was so soft and cuddly, she never got tired of it. 

“I don’t. I was a stuffed animal type of girl, and barbies. I didn’t love the other dolls too much.” She put him out of his misery after snickering about it for a few seconds. “If it’s too scary, we can turn it off and watch another show or something. I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not too scary for me, babe. I just think its’ stupid and the doll is creepy but you chose it. It’s all up to you tonight so, if you want to keep watching we can. I don’t mind either way.” He sniffed, grabbing a M&M she had mixed into the popcorn and popping it into his mouth. 

Y/N knew what that meant. Grabbing the remote, she giggled as she turned it off and went to search for something else on the TV, squeaking when he pinched her side lightly and made her jerk. His hand grabbed the popcorn bowl before it could go flying, thankfully. “Oi! What the fuck was that for? I was just laughing!” 

“Because you thought I was scared. I’m not.” He said adamantly. “We can turn it back on- I don’t mind. Don’t sit here and giggle like a little shit because you think I’m scared.”

Y/N could only laugh harder as he vehemently denied it, making it seem only more true in her head. “I know! Relax. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” She shook her head. “It’s fine. I have to grab more drinks anyways. Did you want a Coke or did you want water?” She asked, stretching her arms above her head. 

“What I want is for you to stop that little grin.” He grumbled. “When we have kids, we are never allowing dolls into their rooms. Sorry.” 

Y/N couldn’t help it now, a smile growing on her face as she paused to look at him. “Oh? First, we’re moving in… now we’re talking about kids?” She hummed, turning to kiss his cheek. “Is this on your mind a lot? Cause m’not about to let you knock me up for at least another 4 years.” 

Harry groaned, cheeks heating up a delicious little pink that Y/N wanted to bite. His cheeks were bitable, after all. He leaning his head back on the couch, running a hand through his now messy hair. “Of course I’m thinking about it. But now you’re teasing me, so you can go get the drinks and when you come back, we can talk properly about it if you want. I’ve been bullied enough.”

[heeseung-min]

[17:53]

Part 2 from [11:44]

I saw some of you wanted part 2 for this so here you are😁 hope you guys enjoy

"What do you mean there was only one body?! Two of my friends live here!!"

Beomgyu angrily said to the police officer. Soobin also tried to hold himself from yelling because frustrated. When they saw a news of murdering happened on your neighbourhood this morning, both of them rushed to your place only to find Karina's dead body outside the house while you were missing.

"I know you are frustrated right now but we also trying our best here to find Miss Y/n. The neighbours also told us they didn't hear anything."

"Bullshit. How can they can't hear their screaming?"

Before Beomgyu can continue more, the police stopped him and went to do something else. Soobin reassured him.

"I'm sure Y/n is still alive. She will not give up easily. Let's try to find her, gyu. Waiting for the police officer is just wasteful."

-----

-----

"You're going to act like this?"

Jungwon scoffed when he didn't get any answer from you. It's been a week since you got abducted and you've been so stubborn to them. Everytime they bring you food, you will either throw it away or left it untouched. Tired of your rage, Riki decided to tie your feet and hands so you can't throw the food away anymore.

You can feel your body become weak. Sometimes, you also feel lightheaded and thirsty so much. But, you don't want to give in.

"Let me go. I don't want to be here."

"We can't do that."

"I DON'T WANT TO BE IN HERE! LET ME GO YOU SICK FUCK! I WILL MAKE SURE BOTH OF YOU GET SEND TO JAIL!!"

Riki entered the room when he heard you screamed. To be honest, having Jungwon alone with you is better than Riki. At least Jungwon is not too rough with you rather than Riki.

You quickly backed away to the headboard when he came closer. Now, the braveness inside you just now completely vanished.

He didn't bring anything that can harm you. Instead of that, he went closer and sit near you and whispered to your ear.

"I have your parents address. Unless you want to see them here bloody dying, you can continue that."

That sure brought you to accept the fate. You can't do anything with your state right now. Riki took the bowl and spoon-feed you until it's finished and gave you water that you've been needing it for few days.

"See, you become a good girl. We will treat you better. If you want to be brat, you will face the consequence. Listen to us, okay? This is your home from now."

You nodded without saying anything. Afraid you will let out some words that will bring consequence. You waited for both of them to go out before trying to calm yourself from the panic attack you had just now.

________

________

"Are you really sure you asked all the neighbours? It is very impossible for them to not hear our friends screaming for help."

"Listen here, boy. How are you so sure they screamed that night? Probably your friend got killed first before she can even ask for help."

"BULLSHIT. HOW DARE YOU?"

Beomgyu punched the officer to the floor. Before he could do the second punch, he was pulled by Soobin and another officer.

"If you continue doing this, we will have no choice but to arrest you."

"You guys literally doing nothing to save my friend! Y/n is still alive!!"

"Let's go Beomgyu. There's nothing good being here. Let's find Y/n by ourselves."

That's what Soobin said before pulling Beomgyu out of the police station.

Both of Soobin and Beomgyu continue searching around your house area in case there is some evidence left or missed by the police. Soobin sighed frustratingly not finding anything after an hour. He stretched his body and moved around his neck until he caught something. Someone was staring straight to your house and quickly pulled the curtain when he noticed Soobin caught him.

"Beomgyu!"

"What?"

"I think we can get some information from the neighbour."

Beomgyu turned his head to look at Soobin who was staring at the upper floor of the next house.

Knock! Knock!

Both of the men watched a woman opened the door. She's quite old and looked very sweet as she smiled to them.

"May I help you, young men?"

"We want to ask about our friends which was your neighbour. Were you in the house at Wednesday ago?"

"I'm sorry but I was at my hometown. I'm sorry about your friends. They were so kind to me."

Her expression relaxed but Soobin noticed her smile now more to force. She must be hiding something. So, he wanted to try something.

"I heard from the police that the murderer might be two people. Is that true?"

"Oh! yes yes! There were two. I heard that too from other neighbours."

Bingo.

"You are lying."

Now, the smile on her face has changed to shocked. Beomgyu and Soobin sighed before questioning her again.

"Police didn't say anything yet about the murderer but you knew there were two person that night?"

"I- I was not.."

"Please help us find our friend. We will make sure to keep you safe if you help us."

The woman felt guilty when both of them started to begging her. She can see how frustrated and angry they were on their eyes. But, she closed her eyes and sighed before opening again. The guilt in the eyes were gone and replaced by the selfishness. She pushed the boys out of her house.

"Don't come here again and bother me. If you do it again, I will call the police."

Soobin and Beomgyu couldn't believe what just happened. When they thought they finally get some help, it just ruined suddenly. They went back to your house to continue searching. When they got back to their car, Soobin noticed a paper stuck at the windshield.

I'm sorry for my mom's attitude. She did that because she was scared. That night, only one girl got murdered and the other one got kidnapped by two persons. I didn't see the face since both of them wearing a mask. Hopefully this can help you to find your friend.

-Sunoo-

****

****

"Aren't you afraid of getting caught by the police?"

You asked Riki as he tighten the rope around your wrists. You winced when you felt hurt because of the tightness. Jungwon was going out to do some errands so Riki will be the one who took care of you.

"Afraid? Huh, do you think the police will find us, Y/n? After all, no one go out the night you were screaming aloud asking for help." Riki said as he smirked to you as a mock. You were clenching your fists trying to suppress the anger inside you.

It's been nearly three weeks or a month? You also didn't remember it and were slowly losing hope to run from them. The thought of the neighbours didn't help during the police interrogation scared you to death. You didn't want to spend whole life with these creeps.

"But, why me? What do I have that both of you decided to do this?"

Riki sat beside you and caressed your hair gently before he whispered something that made you felt creepy.

"Because we are curious how would you look when you are broken and helpless."

"FUCK YOU!!!"

You kicked hard at his left thigh and tried to throw the small vase on the nightstand towards him. The vase did break and you can see blood coming out frok Riki's head.

"You bitch!! Argh fuck get over here!!"

Riki didn't move for a while because he's busy holding the pain on his thigh and his head. The vase made his head hurt and you took that chance and started to run from the room with the sharp piece of the broken vase.

"You can run Y/n. Make sure I don't caught you cause you don't want to face the consequence."

What Riki said made your adrenaline rush and your speed on running increasing. You don't know which way to go cause you never get out and get familiar with the place so you just ran fast to get far away from Riki. You knew how bad it will be if you get caught and you don't want that to happen.

You keep running until you saw a road few metres in front of you. You started to lose your breath from the running. Your throat is dry and desperate water but you can't give up. Not when you finally can be free. You were happy when you saw a car from far. You decided to raise your hand as a signal for the driver to stop.

However, just when the car got near, someone grabbed you from behind.

----

AHAHAHAH HOW'S THAT🤣🤣🤣 i bet you all frust at the end right

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @lamoons @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @marylalala @enha-stan

I tagged those who wants part 2 of this but some account cant be tagged idk why tumblr is so dumb so hopefully you guys enjoy this

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 17

You and Joel return to the QZ and you gain new understanding along the way. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-16 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Threats of SA, canon-typical violence, allusion to miscarriage. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI.

Length: 3.3k

Joel was already dressed when you woke up. He’d put your clothes at the foot of the bed and there was a coffee pot - the kind he’d use when you took Sarah camping - sitting on the fire. 

“Should leave soon,” he said gruffly, barely glancing at you. “Want to get close while it’s light.” 

“Makes sense,” you said, holding the blanket to your chest. You bit your lip, watching him for a moment. 

If it weren’t for the fact that you were naked with a pleasant soreness between your thighs, you’d be almost certain you’d dreamed the night before. He was somehow colder than when he’d shown up at your apartment the day before. As hard as not seeing him had been, this cool indifference, you decided, was harder. 

You wrapped yourself in the sheets and grabbed your clothes from the bed, too afraid of being exposed around him to dare go naked to the bathroom to get dressed or, heaven forbid, get dressed in front of him. 

Without meaning to, you remembered what mornings had been like when you were all but living together, before you moved back to New York. You never put on clothes while you did your hair, happy to have a way to stay cooler when dealing with a blowdryer or curling iron. Joel would press a kiss to your shoulder or neck on his way by, his fingers tracing gently up your spine from the small of your back to between your shoulder blades. You used to think there must be some line there, some well-worn path made by his skin after so many soft touches when the sun was still rising. You could’t see it to be sure. On Saturdays, he’d let you sleep in if there wasn’t anything else that needed doing - no soccer games, no day at the zoo, no desperate need to go get the newest boy band CD at Sam Goody - and, shortly before 10 a.m. bring you a cup of coffee. He’d kiss your temple, trailing his lips down your cheek to your jaw and you’d turn and kiss him back, finally sitting up for the day surrounded by his sheets and him and a cup of coffee with cream. 

You got dressed quickly and briefly went through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. There wasn’t much of use but there was a bottle of Xanax - a 90 day supply that was mostly full. This place had definitely not been raided, then. You grabbed it. 

Joel was packing his bag again when you went back into the bedroom and started putting the sheets back on the bed. He sighed. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

“Making the bed,” you said, not looking at him. You lifted the mattress and tucked the top sheet around it. 

“I can see that,” he said, sounding like he was straining to be patient with you. “Why.” 

“Because I think we were the first people in here since the people who owned this place and they made their bed the morning they turned or left,” you said, smoothing out the sheet and pulling the comforter over the top. “We already broke into their house and burned their things, I want to put their room back the way they liked it.” 

“They’re dead,” he said. “Or turned or stuck in a fuckin’ QZ somewhere.” 

“So?” you shrugged, picking up the pillows and arranging them the way you thought you’d remember seeing them the day before. 

“So it’s a waste of fucking time,” he muttered, going back to packing his bag. You just shrugged again, finishing the job and making sure your own bag was ready to go. 

“Here,” he threw a baggie of jerky at you. “Eat something, then we’ll go.” 

“Thanks.” 

You obeyed as best you could, stomach too knotted up to actually swallow much of anything. You gave most of the jerky back before zipping into your coat and strapping on your pack. 

“Shit,” Joel muttered when you both got outside. The freezing rain had turned to snow overnight, a good inch and a half of the stuff coating the ground outside. 

“What?” You frowned, glancing up at him. 

“We’re gonna be fuckin’ easy to track,” he grumbled. “Same fuckin’ rules as yesterday. Try to stick exactly behind me, well see if we can hide your footprints…” 

You just nodded and let Joel take the lead. 

It was a mercifully quiet morning, no sign of infected, but that didn’t seem to ease Joel’s mind. His head never stayed pointed in the same direction for long, always turning, always sweeping the area, his mouth a grim line when you happened to catch a glimpse of it. 

You stopped briefly in the early afternoon for more jerky and a break, sitting silently inside the ruins of a store that sold shirts that had Boston sports team logos on it. You tried to look anywhere but at him. 

Joel had just started putting his pack back on when you heard something that made you freeze. It sounded like voices, echoing down the empty remains of the city street. You frowned, looking at Joel to see if he heard it, too. His jaw twitched. 

“Stay in here,” he ordered. “Out of fuckin’ sight.” 

“That sounds like people, not infected…” you said but he cut you off. 

“People are worse.” 

He took out his gun and pointed it down at the ground, heading for the entrance to the shop. You ducked down behind an old display so that you’d be covered but you could peer over the top and see into the snow covered street. You understood why Joel was upset about the snow better now. There’d be no way both of you could hide in here. There were footprints leading in, none leading out. If these people were looking for others, they knew exactly where to go. 

Joel peered around the outcropping of display windows in the doorway of the store, gun at the ready. He leaned back, shaking his head to himself before tucking the weapon into his waistband. He went into the street. 

“Rodger,” he called out, standing in the middle of the road. It wasn’t a kind or friendly greeting. It reminded you of when Elias showed some strictly military higher up from FEDRA around the clinic. It was posturing, sizing the other up, demonstrating that he had power and he wasn’t afraid to use it. 

“Joel Miller,” the man you assumed to be Rodger called out. He must be getting close, he didn’t sound all that far away. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again. Made it up to Boston I see. Where’s Tommy?” 

“Home,” he said flatly. “Just me out today.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the Millers I know,” Rodger was close enough for you to see him now. He was tall but not as tall as Joel. Older, rounder. There was a rifle strapped to his back and a handful of men flanking him. “Can’t remember the last time I saw one of yas without the other.” 

“Easier to do with QZ life,” Joel replied. Rodger’s men prowled around him, staying back from him but surrounding him. One looked at the tracks into the shop where you were hiding. You ducked down lower, straining to still see outside. “Surprised to see you this far north this time of year. Pickings around Atlanta slim out?” 

“Not good to… over hunt one region,” Rodger smirked. “Have to give the herd some time to rebuild.” 

“Finding much good around here?” Joel asked. He’d barely moved since the conversation started. One hand was near his gun. His back was straight, his shoulders back. He was tall and broad and intimidating. 

“City’s picked over,” Rodger said. “But out in the country side there’s more to see. More to do.” 

One of the men barked a laugh at that. The one investigating the tracks in the snow frowned, comparing the tracks in - yours mixed with Joel’s - versus Joel’s tracks out. He went to the store. You shrank back lower. 

“Sure you’re out here alone, Miller?” Rodger asked. You couldn’t see but you assumed he must have seen his man come into the store, investigating further. 

“I told you, Tommy’s home,” Joel snapped. “Just out here lookin’ for a few things that are harder to come by inside…” 

The man inside the store threw a clothing rack, making you jump. He moved on to the next area of the store. 

“This ain’t even your fuckin’ territory, Rodger,” Joel snapped. “You’re gonna piss off some fuckers who have been runnin’ Boston since before the goddamn outbreak. You ever fucked with the mob at the end of the world? Keep goin’…” 

Another clothing rack hit the ground with a clatter and your head spun towards it. You didn’t think about it, it was instinctive, looking for the source of the loud and unexpected sound. But the movement caught the man’s attention. His eyes met yours and he smiled slowly, broadly, hungrily. 

“Miller’s got himself a little friend!” He called, not taking his eyes off you. There were wolf whistles outside. 

“Rodger!” Joel snarled. “Call off your fuckin’ dog, you can deal with me…” 

“No, I think I want to meet whoever it is you got stashed in there,” Rodger cut him off. 

The man stalked over to you and you froze, eyes wide. He grabbed your wrists and yanked you to your feet roughly, making you stumble. He dragged you with him into the street, keeping you close against his body. You could smell the rot in his mouth, he probably had teeth that needed pulling. He held onto you, your breath rising in front of you as you turned to Joel. There was a look on his face that you’d never seen before. Pained, panicked, desperate. Sorry. 

“Well ain’t she a pretty little thing!” Rodger strutted over to you, looking you up and down like you were a piece of meat. Another one of the men moved closer. Rodger took your chin sharply in his fingers and tilted your face, examining you. “Didn’t think you had it in ya, Miller. You picked a nice specimen, she’s young enough that she’s still got some use left in ‘er…” 

The other man prowled closer. 

“Hey!” Joel snapped at him, pulling his gun and pointing it at him. “Back the fuck up!” 

“Now now,” Rodger said. “We just like to admire another man’s toys, maybe take them for a spin…” 

“I don’t like to share,” Joel snarled. “Call off your FUCKING dog or I will show you just how Tommy and I made it all the way to fuckin’ Boston.” 

Rodger considered Joel for a moment before jerking his head at the other man. He glared at him but backed down, his hand at his belt near his gun. 

“Good,” Joel turned, leveling the gun at Rodger. “Now get your fuckin’ hands off her. She’s mine.” 

“Now Joel,” Rodger’s hand slipped from your chin to around your throat. You felt his grip as you swallowed. “I’d hate for you or your girl here to lose your heads over such a small misunderstanding…” 

“I said she’s mine,” Joel said through gritted teeth. “I ain’t got a problem killin’ every last fuckin’ one of you so get. Your hands. Off her.” 

“Big words for a man outnumbered nine to one,” Rodger’s grip tightened. 

“You want to count on those numbers?” Joel snapped. He quickly turned the gun and, without looking, shot the man who’d been coming toward you before in the head. You screamed, the sound choked by Rodger’s hand at your throat, and the man’s blood painted the snow crimson. He turned the gun back toward Rodger before the first man hit the ground. “Because you and I both know why you asked for me ’n Tommy’s help so often down south.” 

Guns leveled at Joel and he ignored them. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, eyes darting. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped at you, looking at you quickly before looking back to Rodger. “You this confident in your fuckin’ crew? Because if you are, you’re a whole lot dumber than I ever realized.” 

Rodger considered for a second, his eyes narrowed at Joel. Your heart felt like it was in your throat. You tried to find something to focus on to help calm yourself down, trying to avoid having a panic attack while in the hands of raiders. Raiders who apparently knew Joel, had worked with Joel, were afraid of Joel… 

Rodger’s hand left your throat and he jerked his head at the man holding you. He shoved you forward and you stumbled. Joel caught you and tucked you behind him, glaring at all the men around him, almost daring them to try to take you.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised to see that you made it here alive, Miller,” Rodger said. His eyes went past Joel to you and you cowered behind him. You grabbed onto his coat, taking the fabric by the fistful. You closed your eyes and breathed deep. The air was cold, you knew that. Joel smelled a bit like campfire and wood, you knew that. He’d shot a man and stained the snow red, you knew that… Your stomach turned. 

“Recommend gettin’ through Boston quick,” Joel said, tone more level now. “Wouldn’t want y’all in over your heads.” 

Joel reached a hand behind him and grabbed your arm tightly. 

“Hope you make it home safe, Joel,” Rodger said. “Hate for anything to happen to ya.” 

You opened your eyes a bit and watched as the men went back the way they came, clustering around Rodger again. Joel pulled you around to his side and tugged you tightly against him, silently watching them go. You stood there with him, in the middle of the street, until they were out of sight. Joel’s grip on you loosened and he looked down at you. 

“Are you OK?” He asked, brows tightly together, frowning. He gently took your chin and tilted your head, looking over your neck. “They hurt you?” 

“I’m fine,” your voice shook, pulling yourself from his grip and going to the man he’d shot. 

Blood was still pooling in the snow. You checked his pulse. It was gone. 

“He’s not worth savin’,” he said, coming and standing beside you. “Come on, we have to keep moving. They’re not going to be a fan of me after that shit.” 

Joel led the way but put you beside him this time. You looked down at your hands. They were shaking. You kept watching them for a while as you walked, trying to get your breathing under control.

“You doin’ OK Baby?” He asked eventually, looking down at you. You thought it had been a while but you weren’t sure. 

“They knew you,” you looked up at him. 

He shifted his gaze straight ahead, face drawn. 

“They did,” he said, voice gruff. 

“Said they worked with you,” your voice cracked a little. He just grunted in affirmation. “Joel…” 

“It was complicated.” 

“Were you a raider?” You asked, a knot in your throat. His jaw twitched but he didn’t say anything. “Joel, were you…” 

“No!” 

“Joel…” 

“What do you want me to say?” He snapped. “That I did shit that I’m not proud of…” 

“We all did shit we’re not proud of!” You cut him off. “There’s a difference between hurting people because you can and you want to and trying to survive!” 

“You don’t know that you’re talking about,” he growled. 

“Did you kill people?” You demanded. 

“Everyone killed people!” He snapped, rounding on you. “Everyone killed people, anyone who’s alive today is alive because they fuckin’ killed people that’s how it worked!” 

“I didn’t!” You yelled. “Neither did Andrew! We killed infected when we had to, that’s it, that’s all, we didn’t go around hurting people to feel strong…” 

“That’s not what we did!” 

“Did you rape anyone, Joel?” You demanded. “Because your friends back there obviously did, clearly thought that’s what you were doing with me.” 

“No!” 

The QZ loomed in the distance and it was still daylight. Joel grabbed you and pulled you into a boarded up building. 

“So you just murdered them then?” You said, looking up at him, your eyes searching his, a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t shake. “You just, what, killed people who were trying to survive the end of the world?” 

“When we had to?” He snapped. “Yes.” 

“How many.” 

“What?” His chest heaved but his voice was calm. 

“How many people did you fucking kill, Joel?” You demanded. He was silent, looked away. You laughed once, darkly, turning your back to him. “Fucking hell, you don’t even know, do you?” He was still quiet. You turned to face him again. “Do you!” 

“No!” He yelled back. “No, I don’t know!” 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” You almost sobbed it. “Would you have killed me?” 

“No!” He yelled. “No, of course I wouldn’t have…” 

“I don’t mean me, your ex-girlfriend I mean me, a person who walked hundreds of miles with fucking children trying to find safety after being attacked by infected and shot at and…” Your voice trailed off. You’d never told him about McCarthy. You sure as hell weren’t about to tell him now. “Would you have killed me and Andrew and Jessica?” 

“We didn’t kill children,” he looked at you, disgusted that you’d even asked. “We avoided killing women when we could…” 

“So you’d have just, what, murdered Andrew then?” You demanded. “He was 18 so fuck it, he can die so you can have more to trade? Is that it?” 

“I did what I had to fucking do!” He yelled at you. “I had nothing! I lost my daughter because you…” 

“I’ve got news for you, Joel!” You screamed at him. “You didn’t lose Sarah because of me! I didn’t kill her and no matter what I did what happened could have happened anyway or…” 

“I could have protected her!” He screamed back. “If it were different…”

“It would have been different if you hadn’t left me!” You yelled. 

He stepped back from you, panting for breath, searching your face. His eyes were oddly flat, empty. 

“You left me, Joel,” you said, quieter now. “You left me. Do you really think I wouldn’t have told you the second I found out if we were still together? That you wouldn’t have been my first call? I was alone and scared because you decided you didn’t want me anymore!” 

“That’s not…” his voice was quiet. 

“I never had a chance to be happy about it, Joel!” Your voice was wet. You weren’t entirely sure when you’d started crying. “All I had was panic and worry and contingency plans and then the world ended. I never even told Nan because she didn’t like you, she didn’t think you were good for me and I was so scared of proving her right because I still fucking loved you! The things I went through to try to survive, to keep your child safe, to get to you… You could have asked me for anything, anything, and I would have given it to you and you left me!” 

You panted for breath and wiped your eyes, forcing yourself to stand up straight. 

“If blaming me for everything helps you sleep at night, Joel, then blame me, I don’t care,” you said. “But know that it’s not my fucking fault. It was never my fucking fault.” 

It was nearly dark outside, twilight on the edge of the sky. 

“We should go,” he said, quiet. 

“Yeah.” 

You followed him, trudging along behind him to the edge of the QZ. You numbly navigated the debris field, let him move you to avoid the search lights, scrambled back below the broken fence. 

Once inside you stared into space for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. 

“Don’t think we should see each other again,” Joel said after a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said, not looking at him. 

He paused. 

“Hope you got what you needed, Kid.” 

A/N: I DID tell you guys I was going to blow them up.

And so begins a season of growth for Doc. She's going to be coming into her own and Joel is going to have to watch it happen - for better or for worse.

I have a tag list! If you'd like to be added, comment below or shoot me a message. If you've asked to be added and you're not listed below, please comment or message me again because I may have lost track!

Thank you thank you for reading and commenting and embracing this story! I love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr

[trappper-johnathan]

Good morning. Here's a vent post about my job 👍

I think i actually fucking hate my job. Something about having to wake up this fucking early in the morning is so fucking atrocious that it's killing me. I don't care if the sun is out now, I just want to be able to wake up and go back to sleep if I'm not feeling rested enough. I just. Need. A fucking. Break. Every time my alarm goes off i feel like getting violent. The 40 hour work week is killing me, i think. I work fucking 8 hour days but im in the office for 9, and the doesn't include the almost hour round trip from work to my house. And then i have to go home and get maybe an hour to myself before i have to help with dinner. Like. This doesn't feel sustainable in the least. I just had a great weekend with my friends and now im right back at square one. I don't know how my mom does it, but i am struggling and she doesn't quite Get That because she can do it. She hates it, but the nature of older parents is that they don't really give a fuck to understand your perspective. Every time they tell me shit like "welcome to the real world" i want to blow myself up a little bit. It ALMOST makes me want to go back to my retail job, which was not even 20 hours a week. The pay was shit and the hours were shit (always got the closing shift) but at least i had TIME TO MYSELF DURING THE DAY! I HAVE NO TIME! I FEEL LIKE IM TUMBLING DOWN A HILL WAITING FOR FLAT LAND BUT IT DOESN'T EVER COME!!! Like im not even properly taking care of myself or doing the things i need/want because it all just feels like a waste of my precious "me time," which mostly consists of rotting on my phone. I hate it here i fucking hate it here. They're right when they say being medicated doesn't fix capitalism. Anyway. Time to fucking get ready I guess. I now have 20 minutes before I have to leave my house, and my mom is downstairs getting everything ready for me AGAIN, LIKE ALWAYS! And i feel fucking terrible that she has go do everything for me but i fucking CAN'T MOVE ANY FASTER THAN I AM RIGHT NOW. Days like these (every day) i really fucking consider quitting my job. I now have 17 minutes. Incredible.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 15

Status: Work In Progress Version: 1.01 Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC Rating: NC-17 (This chapter NC-17) Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: This one was a tough one to push out, and I had a lot of help doing it.

As usual characterization chief @fistfuloftarenths played a big role. Whenever I have a feeling about a character that I can't articulate she has all the missing words on the "why" of it. You should definitely read Isn't it a marvel? by her!

@dustdeepsea of Trouble will Find me fame (go read that and Performance Review!) and @thisaccountisagainstmywill (read What Else Would We be!) acted as lovely beta readers.

Table of Contents Read Here on AO3 as this is an *adult* chapter.

Milder excerpt below the cut.

New Tricks - Chapter Fifteen Excerpt

Sal sighed as he sat his pack down and collapsed onto the inn bed. The road from Crimmor had been rough. Conditions had been fair, no beasts nor bandits had accosted them, and yet the mood had been nothing short of dour. Olly had sulked the whole time and Bellar had been terse and demanding. Sal was certain if they had spent another day on the road the two of them would’ve come to blows. For all his talk of seniority Sal had a feeling that Bellar did not actually enjoy the mantle of leadership. Bellar was more for fighting, less for responsibility and morale.

“Don’t forget to send Izzy.” Olly was kicking his boots off as he stretched out on his own twin bed across from Sal’s.

“Give me a minute to get my bearings, Olly.”

“Right.” Olly replied but continued to stare at Sal expectantly.

“Dammit, Olly.” Sal sat up and crossed his legs, closing his eyes so he could focus on the spell. “I can still feel you staring, Olly. Give me some space.”

“Sorry.” Came the sheepish reply, and he heard the lad shuffle to look the other way.

Sal exhaled slowly and envisioned the glyphs in his mind, his fingers tracing their various shapes in the air. Thinking carefully to ensure his message was clear, concise and no more than twenty-five words.

‘Hello, Izzy, we’ve arrived in Athkatla. We’re staying at the Adamantine Mug. How fare you and our illustrious leader?’

‘Sal,’ Came the swift reply. ‘he is well enough to speak. I will send him soon as he’s able, sooner if he doesn’t learn to hold his damned tongue.’

“Shit.”

“What did she say?”

“Patience, Olly.”

Sal focused on casting the spell a second time.

‘Rugan, what in the nine hells did you do to fuck up the best thing that ever happened to you, nay any man?’

‘Sod off wizard.’ Came the terse reply.

“Fucker.” Sal hissed, regretting wasting the spell slot.

“Well?”

“He’s awake and making an ass of himself.”

+++++

Izzy hadn't come to see him again that evening. He had hoped she would return for supper, but a maid had delivered his meal in her stead.

As much as her constant coddling grated on him, being left to his thoughts was even less agreeable. What would Zarys say, or worse yet, do when she found out about him taking ill, and exactly why he had taken ill? He'd have to confront Olly about that too. He didn't look forward to the chastisement the lad was in for, but it was necessary. Probably sounded damn hypocritical coming from him, laid up as he was because his heart had taken pity on poor, sopping wet Olly.

Sal’s sending only added to his anxieties. If Sal knew he had fucked up, that meant he had ‘spoken’ to Izzy, and that Izzy had been angry enough to say something about it.  Why was everything so difficult here when it had been so easy in Waterdeep?

He had hardly eaten, and spent what energy he did have pacing his room that evening.

When Izzy arrived with his breakfast the next morning he felt a rush of relief. He stood from his seat to greet her, having felt well enough to dress himself from his pack, and anxious enough that he had woken early. She didn't seem angry, but she was guarded, her usual easy smiles absent when she greeted him and set down his tray.

“You seem much better today,” she said tentatively and pressed her hand to his forehead to gauge his temperature. “No fever either, I think you might be able to stop with the tea now.”

“Thank the gods for that.” He smiled at her, hoping to coax her out of her shell. “I’ve had worse medicine in my life but only just barely.”

She gave a polite half smile and he felt his own falter.

He bade her sit with him while he ate and Izzy assented, though while she sat across from him her mind seemed to be somewhere faraway. Her expression was anxious as she gazed out the window.

Rugan took the opportunity to admire her as he ate. She was beautiful, with her high cheeks and bright eyes, that soft mass of raven hair. It called to mind another memory, their first morning on the Prow: her hair pooled out across the pillows, mouth parted in a silent cry as he had moved inside her. The way it had felt to have her fingers intertwined with his own as they had rocked together.

As if sensing his gaze she turned to meet it. She must have noticed just how intense his scrutiny was because her cheeks reddened when their eyes met.

“You didn't come to see me last night, Iz.” He gently chided.

“I had an errand to run.” She replied softly, but Rugan felt strongly that wasn't the principal reason.

“An errand, at that hour?” He asked sceptically.

She nodded. “I have something for you, let me go fetch it.”

Without another word Izzy slipped out of the room. She returned with a folded bundle of cloth tied with twine and presented it to him with both hands. Rugan stood to gingerly accept the package and placed it on the bed to unwrap. Even before undoing the twine he could tell the material was a fine black wool. Slipping it free from the strings he held it out and realised it was a rain cloak. It was lined with another layer of wool dyed mustard yellow, and he guessed that it would fall to his calves.It was a fine cloak to be sure.

Mercenary work would earn you a fair bit of coin compared to common trades but you wouldn't get rich by it. And a cloak like this could be a month's wages. An amount he could scarcely part with. Hells, half his kit had been scavenged from the cooling bodies of friend and foe alike.

He had extorted for less, killed for less. It would have been one thing if he had bartered or threatened her for this, but to receive it as a gift? 

“Iz… how much coin did this cost you?”

“It’s considered rude to ask the price of a gift you know.”

“I can’t repay this, Izzy…”

“It’s also customary in many cultures to give a gift without expectation of something in return.”

Rugan continued to stare at the fabric clutched in his grasp as if it were a snake ready to strike. “How could I possibly accept this?”

“Olly still has your old cloak, it would be foolish of you not to.”

She was right of course. He couldn’t afford to fall ill a second time, could afford a new cloak even less, especially one nice as this. But the thought of taking it made his stomach turn.

His taking pity on Olly had been a chink in the armour. An unacceptable weakness that had left him in a position of vulnerability. And now she was heaping favours and gifts on him he could never repay, nor could he afford to refuse them. Were he hale he would've turned his nose up at the charity of any noble. But he wasn't, and Izzy wasn't. Even so.

“You can't just keep lording over me like this.” 

“I'm not lording.It's a gift.” He could hear the frustration in her voice.

Exasperated he dropped the cloak to the bed and turned to her, running his hand over his face and hair.

“I don't know what you want from me in return for all this.” 

“I don’t want anything from you, I want to help you.” Her tone was pleading.

Rugan searched her face, trying to discern what she was thinking, what agenda might be served by her generosity.

“Why?”

“Why did you give Olly your cloak? What more reason do I need to have?”

“You’re a soft hearted fool, Iz.” He breathed.

“In fairness to me, I commissioned this before you threw a tantrum over taking a bath.”

“I did not-” Rugan started darkly, and then thinking better of it, he instead took a deep breath and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to fight you, Iz.”

“Then don’t pick fights with me.” She whispered back, her own arms wrapping tightly around his waist, her face desperately pressing into his chest. That broke what little resolve he had and he buried his face in her soft tresses. He breathed in her heady scent and when he finally pulled back Izzy lifted her head to stare up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. 

Gods, when had he last kissed her? Not since Waterdeep. Not since they had said goodbye in that darkened room. He dipped down to kiss her now, his mouth seeking hers out eagerly. Izzy broke the kiss first, panting softly, her hands fisted in his shirt. 

Read the rest on AO3

[raineandsky]

#17

(part 1) (part 2)

Work in food service is about as mundane as life gets in a city like this. The civilian’s seen his fair share of heroes and villains blitzing past the windows outside, and he couldn’t really care less anymore. He comes to work, gets paid, and avoids getting cars thrown at him by the fights on his way home. The same thing every day.

He passes another drink over the counter without a thought, barely noticing the thanks the customer gives him when they step forward to take it. He drifts back to the till where an endless queue of patrons is waiting. 

The usual opening question is ingrained without registering who’s standing there. “What can I get started for you?”

“Good morning, [Civilian],” the person on the other side of the counter says, and the sound of his name brings his gaze up to the customer he’s talking to. A woman is on the other side, her hair pulled into a polite ponytail, her clothes a formal black. She’s sporting a pair of dark sunglasses – inside. A small wallet is in her hand, half open.

He’s about to ask her how she can see under the lackluster cafe lights when she continues talking. “I’m with the SHA.” The wallet opens towards him to show him a very official looking ID. “May I talk with you in private?”

The civilian’s mind is blank for a moment, running through all zero of the crimes he’s committed in his life. How badly did he fuck up to get the attention of the superhero agency? Without even realising?

A couple customers in the queue behind her are whispering to each other. “Um, yeah, sure,” he says after he realises his confusion has made him clam up in front of everyone. “Is the staff room okay?”

“That’d be perfect.”

He gives his coworker an anxious side eye as he lifts the counter door for her, getting a horrified look back that doesn’t make him feel any better. He leads the way to the back room, and the three people on their breaks go to greet him before thinking better of it at the sight of the agent behind him.

“I don’t suppose you could give us a minute to have a confidential discussion?” she asks expectantly, and the three of them leap to their feet with various unnecessary apologies, wasting no time in pushing through the door past them. Within ten seconds the room is empty.

The agent sits at the rickety table, inviting the civilian to sit with her like she owns the place. “I have been told you may be able to help us with some heroic matters.”

The seriousness of how she says it paired with the relief he’s not somehow a criminal makes the civilian snort unintentionally, poorly covered with a cough. “Me? Sorry to disappoint, ma’am, but I work, uh, here. Food service. I can’t say I’m the most heroic of normal people. Now, my neighbour, he went into a burning building and–”

“I have sources that say you have superpowers.”

“Sources?” he chokes out. “What sources? Is my superpower making a mean salted caramel frappe?”

“I can’t divulge that information.”

“Was it my roommate?”

The agent’s silence is her answer. “… I can’t say.”

The civilian leans back in his chair knowingly, and she hums in disappointment. “I’ve been told that you make people feel drunk by talking to them,” she continues, changing the subject, and he raises his eyebrows.

“My company is so bad everyone I speak to wants to become an alcoholic just to put up with me,” he corrects, and she huffs somewhat tiredly.

“That is a superpower, [Civilian].”

“Being boring?”

“No.” The word comes out a little harsh, and the agent clears her throat before carrying on. “No, influencing people’s psyche without doing anything. It’s rare, powerful in its uniquity, and we think we could use it.”

“I don’t see how you’d do that.” She only gets more exasperated, and the civilian feels a little bad. How many civilians has she had to visit today with mundane powers?

She glances at the closed door before she speaks. “We’ve managed to capture one of the most notorious villains in the city. We know they’re part of an underground network, but they won’t tell us who they work with or where any of them are.” She smiles a little as she talks, the least stern she’s looked the entire time she’s been here. “I have sources that they’re a bit of a talker when they’ve had a little too much.”

“Was the source somehow also my roommate?”

“I hope your roommate isn’t getting involved with high level criminals.” The smile is gone again. Shame. 

“Okay, well, even if I can do that–” The civilian grimaces uncertainly. “– just… give them alcohol?”

“You’d be amazed how good they are at evading things they don’t want. They can’t avoid you invading their mind, though.” The agent rolls her eyes, and he grimaces even harder.

“I don’t like how you phrased that.”

“We can reward you well for your time. Just a couple of hours of your power at work.” She puts a wad of notes on the table between them, the top one blatantly displaying a hundred. That bundle alone, by his calculations, is four months rent. “This is a down payment.”

A down payment? The civilian can’t stop the startled gag that escapes him. He’d kill for this kind of money, and all he has to do for it is make someone feel a little drunk. Maybe it’s a little mean to the poor villain, but maybe they should’ve considered this before becoming a criminal. He meets the agent’s eye boldly, and she returns his gaze calmly – or at least he thinks she does. He can’t tell behind those stupid glasses.

“What do I need to do?”

(part 2)

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 6

TIME

Tara listens to her sister and mother fight… again, but when things get reckless, she intervenes.

Tara - age 11 Sam - age 17 references from my day 3: punishment

Tara sat at the top of the staircase, knees up to her chest with her arms crossed on top, listening to her sister and her mother argue in the kitchen. She should be used to it by now, but she never could shake the anxiety in her chest or the race of her heart. It wasn’t that she feared the shouting or the insults or the aggression her mother showed, as much of a stranger as that made her seem. She was scared that their mother would throw Sam out of the house. The more they fought, the more venomous their words became, and that scared Tara to no end. She couldn’t stay alone with her mother if Sam was kicked out. She just couldn’t. And so, whenever they’d fight, she’d sit somewhere she could hear what was happening. She had already decided that if that threat was made, she would get herself involved.

Over her dead body would anyone take her Sammy away. She didn’t care what she’s done, she was still her sister. She was still her number 1.

“How about an apology for all the shit you’ve put me through?!” Christina shouted.

Then Sam returned with a hot tone, “Me? Me, have an apology? You lie to me for years, drive Dad out, get wasted every night, and then take it out on me and Tara! Where’s my apology? Why am I supposed to apologize?”

“Look at what you’re doing, Samantha!” was the offended reply.

Tara could hear her mother’s hand slap the countertop.

“At least I take my shit somewhere else! I don’t sit here and abuse you or Tara for it! She doesn’t deserve that!” Her older sister spat. “You're a mother, so act like it! Get some damn perspective!”

Tara could only imagine the expression that had just come over their parent’s face at those words.

One more moment of tense silence, and then… “How did you become such a fucking brat?”

Christina’s voice had dropped low, making an icy shiver run down the listener’s spine.

“It’s not ‘how?’, you’ve got that figured out, it’s ‘why?’” Sam’s voice had dropped too, but she sounded more disappointed than offended. “Look in the mirror and you’ll find the answer.”

Tara held her breath.

“How dare you—?”

“No, how dare you?!” Sam started yelling again. “When did you think it was okay to give up on your family, your children?! It’s your fault!”

“Samantha Carpenter!”

“No!” she cut her off. “You don’t seem to get it, so let me spell it out for you! I am not responsible for who you loved and how you loved, and neither is Tara! Stop treating us like it!” She didn’t pause to accept any feedback. “You think getting wasted is going to fix it? You think this is going to fix it?!”

Tara jumped with a small yelp that had her slapping her hand over her mouth as the sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the house. She knew Sam had just thrown a wine glass. Something bad was about to happen, she could feel it. And she feared it would leave her alone forever…

“How am I supposed to tell Tara you’ve changed your mind?!” Her older sister screamed, holding a different emotion than anger. She almost sounded like she was about to cry.

Her mother only replied, “You’re just like your father!” 

“Maybe. But right now, you’re being more of a devil than he was.”

Devil? The youngest member of the household felt her chest start to burn that led to fresh tears coming into her eyes. Their father wasn’t a devil… Why would she even say that? Sam loved their father, how could she call him such a horrible thing?

All was silent, and for a moment, Tara thought about going downstairs to see what the kitchen looked like now. But then she went cold.

“Go ahead,” she heard Sam dare. “Hit me.” 

More silence, but Tara’s heart dropped. ‘Don’t.’

“If you hate me that much, then do it! Hit me!”

‘Don’t do it. Please, Mom, don’t hit her.’ She braced her spine against the wall, biting her lip in anticipation for what might or might not happen. 

“You’ve already done it before! Remember last year? When you beat me with a belt in the garage?” Her sister raved on, “So, come on! Hit me! ‘Cause you can’t hurt me anymore than the truth did.”

She had hit her before? Beat her? At that point, Tara couldn’t wait any longer. She bolted from her place and ran down the stairs, nearly skidding as she navigated to the kitchen. “No, don’t hit her!” She got both of their attention, which they seemed taken aback that she had been listening in on their argument. But who couldn’t? They were screaming at each other. She desperately looked at her mother, “I don’t mind if you drink!” Then she looked over at Sam, “I don’t mind if you go out!” Her tears became thicker as her voice started to crack, looking back to her mother, “But please, don’t hit her!”

Christina glared at her. “Tara, go to your room,” she ordered, “This doesn’t concern you.”

Her youngest daughter whimpered, hesitating as she looked over at her sister again. Part of her wanted to obey so she wouldn’t have to be yelled at, but the other part wanted to stay. She didn’t want Sam to be hit or verbally abused anymore. “It’s not fair, Mom…” Now, she began to cry.

Her parent sighed. “None of this is fair, Tara. Life’s not fair.”

Then, Sam snapped, her voice dropping as she stared at the older. “Yeah, but she doesn’t deserve this,” she growled.

“You, keep your mouth shut!”

But she ignored her, softening her demeanor enough to go to Tara. She pulled her in close as her little sister broke down in a small sob. “Shh, it’s okay,” she spoke softly as she stroked her hair. “Just go to your room, it’s okay.”

“Oh, don’t make me out to be the bad guy!” Christina barked, “She’s not a baby, Samantha, don’t pacify her! She needs to grow up at some point.”

“She needs a mother who will be there for her, instead of getting too drunk to even remember she has a daughter!”

Their mother’s eyes went dark and her jaw clenched. If looks could kill, Sam would be gone in a heartbeat. “Get out of this house,” she demanded.

Tara felt her sister stiffen against her.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” she finished coldly.

And that’s when she lost it. “No!” Tara grabbed onto Sam’s shirt and clung to it as she blinked up at her. “Don’t leave!” she pleaded. “Don’t! Please, Sammy!” But Sam just stared at their mother, which made her turn her face to her as well. “I’ll go to my room, Mom! I will! Just please don’t kick her out!”

Christina scoffed. “I’m not kicking her out,” she assured, but her eyes were like daggers as she held her eldest daughter’s fiery gaze, “I just want her out of the house for a few hours.” She moved forward and grabbed her youngest child, tearing her away from Sam. “Let her go, Tara!”

The strength of her grip pinched Tara’s arms as she reluctantly was forced away. Her mother then trapped her to keep her from running back. “You’ll come back, right?” she whimpered, tears running down her face for the fear that she wouldn’t.

Samantha took a step forward, never breaking away from the stare she put on her mother. “If I find out you hurt her in any way,” she warned, everything from her demeanor to her voice resembling the one person that gave her such a dangerous reputation, “You’ll see just how much I really am like him.”

Christina didn’t seem fazed. “She’s my daughter. I’ll deal with her the way I see fit,” she replied.

“Your daughter. Remember that.”

Tara didn’t understand, but she didn’t care. She squirmed a little in her mother’s hold, but to no avail, for the grip just grew tighter. “Y-you both just need some time…” She exchanged glances with both of them. “To calm down… a-and apologize… Right?”

Her mother just sighed, but Tara could see the trembling of her sister’s jaw and the tears glossing over her eyes as she refused to look at her.

Sam inhaled shakily, and the heartbreak could be read clear on her face as she answered. “We’re out of time.”

That haunted Tara. Terribly. A cold, empty feeling drowned her. “S-Sammy?”

But her Sammy couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the desperation on her baby sister’s tear-stricken face. 

Time… So much time…

Lived.

Divided.

Destroyed.

Lost.

She turned around and led herself out the front door, slamming it on everything they once were. Happy. Innocent. Beautiful. Connected.

All of that was gone. And they were out of time to try and make it right again.

today's been kind of rough, so this isn't my best work, but I think it's decent enough.

All my best! ♡ - parker

[kitchenisking]

#omegaproblems by subnivean - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12539, sterek)

Stiles didn't need an alpha. He might want one, though.

Nothing Stands Between Us Here by 17 pansies (17pansies)  - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1373, sterek)

Derek is possessive. Not that Stiles seems to mind.

Unapologetic porn.

Rules of engagement by devilscut - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 17012, sterek)

While playing a drinking game at a pack party Stiles confesses that he would totally suck Derek Hale's brains out through his dick only to discover that the Alpha's heard him. With Derek making a huge effort to totally ignore him, Stiles is very surprised when one night a week later his Alpha enters his bedroom asking "Did you mean it?". 

The only problem is that Stiles has done too much research and he knows of all the weird stuff that's out there that has been linked to werewolf sex and Stiles is very happy being a boy.. not being pregnant and not leaking weird lubricant out of his ass. What's a guy to do when his wolf wants to take it to the next level?

Reflections (on the mating habits of the average North American werewolf) by thingswithteeth - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3206, sterek)

What the Plan does not include, and Stiles wants to be very clear on this point, is Derek Hale breaking the lock on the dressing room at the local tuxedo rental place while Stiles is trying things on.

Previously titled "Mirror, Mirror."

Good Boy by StilesStilinskiMcCall - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2802, sterek)

Derek fucks stiles in the hallway at a party. Pure Porn.

Creeper Wolf by FearThisQueer - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5069, sterek)

So Derek may have a bit of a problem.

But it’s not really his fault, he can’t help that Stiles smells so good. And if Derek watches him at lacrosse practice a couple times a week and then rushes home to jerk off, well… that’s nobody’s business but his own. It’s not like he’s actually doing anything, right?

but monsters are always hungry, darling by Rena - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7071, sterek)

"I just...I just want someone to fuck me,” he blurts out, flailing his hands around. “I mean, like, really fuck me. Not any of this wishy-washy stuff, but someone with strength and stamina who’ll actually, honestly, fuck me, hold me down and fuck me so hard I can still feel it the next day.”

“So, essentially, you want a werewolf,” Lydia deduces.

“Where would I even find a werewolf willing to fuck a human?” Stiles demurs. Werewolves mostly keep to themselves. Stiles doesn’t blame them.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” Lydia levels him with a hard look. “You find them where you find everyone you can purchase the fulfillment of your every sexual fantasy from. Find a damn hooker.”

it’s not how big, it’s how mean by wiski - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7156, sterek)

“So… Is this an actual neck thing or just your oral fixation?” He asks while idly running a hand up and down the relaxed curve of Stiles’s spine. “I thought I was the werewolf in this relationship.”

Purely Wanton by iofbeholder - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3528, sterek)

Newly turned Stiles starts experiencing unexpected changes to his body and a need he’s never fathomed before. 

Or the one where Derek turns Stiles, and Stiles goes in to heat. Derek interrupts Stiles and his "monster" of a sex toy.

Stiles gets a satisfying conclusion. So does Derek.

We're Messy Through And Through by jettiebettie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2427, sterek)

Derek has issues when it comes to sex. He's not against getting naked and sweaty as a rule, but past experiences have a way of making so many things that should be easy and natural ultimately not. It takes Stiles forever and a day to convince him that sex was something they totally should be doing, all day every day, 24/7. Because, while make-out sessions were hot and handjobs hotter, there was only so much clothes-on touching that Stiles could stand before he felt like he was straight up about to combust from all the wasted, pent up arousal.

So when it finally happens, it's like whatever chain Derek's been keeping around himself fucking snaps.