#but I want to go back to do this ´on this day´ posts since now I have more free time

[power-handmaiden]

Chuck Tingle interview

OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!

-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?

the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving

-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?

DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.

-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?

i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 

similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time

-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...

yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me

-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?

same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points

-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?

oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.

as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us

-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?

probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.

-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?

-a ghost of a regular human

-a regular human vampire

-a human/fish mermaid

-a sentient winged horse

-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)

alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification

a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories

MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.

WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid

a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler

-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)

i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug

-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?

honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more

THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL

[cxrsed-angel]

Overtime

pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

rating: 18+

w.c: 2k

summary: You stay late after work with Joel at his construction office. (I suck at summaries, Joel and reader hookup in Joel's office after everyone leaves).

warning: No outbreak AU, Smut, P in V sex (unprotected), fingering, oral (male receiving), dbf ish!Joel, mention of age difference (Joel is like 40+, reader is 20+). Established relationship

a/n: first fic of 2025 🥳this is just porn with no plot that's been in my drafts sorry not sorry. Posting this in hopes it helps me get over my fear of posting fics on here and my forming hatred of this app. this was proof read by only me so sorry if they're mistakes. happy new year :)

You've been at the front desk all day organizing Joel’s clients for the projects and renovation, replying to emails, answering phones, doing your best to answer the questions you can, or forwarding the calls to Joel so he can explain what you can’t. 

 You’ve been his assistant at his construction office since you started college. Joel is a close friend of your dad’s and he had convinced Joel to hire you until you go back to college in the fall to help him organize and with his schedule. You answer the phone, reply to his emails, get his lunch, and do everyday assistant things. Instead, you found yourself bent over at his office desk as fucked you. Almost every day, after everyone had gone home for the day. 

Once you see everyone else has left and it was just you and Joel. You go to Joel’s office and knock on his door. You slowly open it and see him behind his desk on his computer. You take a second looking at him, the gray hair mixing with his brown hair, the little bit of grey coming in on his beard. You never really had a thing for older guys…until now. You see him looking at his computer through the black frame glasses on his nose. He looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the desk. 

“You can come in, don't worry. ‘Aint too busy.” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts of admiring him. You nod, closing the door behind you. He motions for you to come closer, and you waste no time going around his desk. You see emails and his digital ledger on the screen. Next to the computer, he has a large brown leather book, his physical ledger, because he’s yet to feel the need to go completely digital. 

“You know you could probably make this into a spreadsheet. I could help instead of having this double thing you got going on.” You suggest as you open the old ledger, flipping through it. “How long have you had this thing, the 90s, the 80s, oh my god, since Kennedy?” 

Joel closes it, rolling his eyes at the dig of his age and the systems he currently has. His hands go onto your waist, gently pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“My system has lasted me this long, so I’ll stick with it. Thank you very much. If it were up to me, everything would've remained paper. Damn, computer is hard to read and makes my eyes hurt lookin’ at it all day.” He turns you towards him a bit, changing your focus away from his computer. You lean down, kissing Joel, feeling the scruff of his greying beard against his face. 

Feeling the blood rush in your body, the both of you have been waiting all day to have your hands on each other. He runs his hands up your skirt, bunching it up further on your thighs. You feel his bulge under you, growing harder as you continue making out passionately. His hands squeeze your thighs harder you feel his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Seeing you in this fucking tight skirt all day was killing me, sweetheart. I just wanted to take you in here and fuck you on my desk.”  

You continue kissing him, his hands moving down to your panties, his fingers tracing over your covered core, feeling your wetness. Joel kisses his neck. 

“So wet already?…” He pulls your underwear down, tossing it with your skirt on his office floor. 

His eyebrows raise, looking at you as his fingers rub along the outside of your folds. You shift, humping against his hand for more relief focusing on how good his finger felt rubbing your swollen and needy clit. 

You whine incoherently, mumbling at his words, words failing to form as you get more aroused. He slowly slides two of his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out of your aching pussy; hearing the wetness forming, you melt against him, your back pressing against his chest as he spreads your legs while you're sitting in his lap. 

“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to give this needy pussy attention. This pretty little pussy needed me, I can tell? Wanted me to finger fuck under the desk while I’m talking to my clients?” you moan more as he slides a second finger stretching you out. He feels your wetness coat his finger as he thrusts them inside, curling up and reaching your sensitive spot. 

You cry out more. “Joel Joel, Joel!” moaning out his name, your mouth opens, forming an O as he continues fucking you with his fingers feeling your climax building, but the feeling fades as you feel his fingers leave your dripping pussy. You groan disappointedly as you feel. You pout, looking back at him at the arousal still clouding your brain.

“Relax, relax. I’ll give ya what you want soon.” he places a hand on your shoulder, gently moving you off the familiar seat of his lap. You look at him, your face flush as you feel the room getting hotter. 

He softly kisses you quickly before his hard cock straining through his jeans as you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and pulling them down along with his boxers. He stares down at you, his eyes full of lust as he watches you spit in your hand before slowly stroking his big cock, teasing him. He rolls his eyes back as he leans in the chair. 

After jerking him off, for a little you place his hard length in between your lips. You slowly insert the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it and tasting the salty precum on your tongue.  

Joel groans as you tease him, not being able to take it anymore. He shoves his dick deeper into your mouth, making you choke. You followed his pace, bobbing your head up and down the length of his shaft, using your hands to jerk off the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s it. Attagirl, Take it all. Know you can.” You listen, taking him deeper in the back of your throat, your eyes watering. You relax, hallowing your cheeks; his office is filled with the sound of you gaging around his cock. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart, your mouth feels so good. You enjoy this, aren’t ya, sucking the cock of a man twice your age?”

You nod, trying to agree as he continues using your mouth; you look up at him and see his eyes rolling back closed as his chest heaves, still praising you as you suck him off. His grunts and moans get louder; he starts fucking your mouth for a bit, thrusting his cock deeper before letting you come up to catch your breath, taking his cock out of your mouth. 

“Fuck baby…bet your dad didn’t expect you to be on your knees for me every day after work when he suggested you come work for me, huh.” 

You wipe your mouth as you hear his joke, still on your knees, his hand still on your head, rubbing your hair.  “Just don't let it slip out on guys' night after a few beers. Don't know who he’d be more mad at, me or you.” 

You push the thought of anyone finding out about you and Joel in the back of your mind; you don’t want to think about what your dad will say or how he’ll scold you for sleeping with his best friend and your boss. 

He laughs as he grabs your hand, helping you stand up; he kisses you sloppy, crashing his lips onto yours. Tasting himself on your lips. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna tell him.” 

 He holds your waist, unzipping your skirt and helping you step out of it. He moves it out of the way before moving you towards the desk; he watches you bend over the desk, can’t resist the urge to stare at your ass, he squeezes it before landing another smack on it. 

“You ready, baby girl?” he asks softly, still caressing your lower back. You nod, looking back at him. 

“Yes, yes, Joel, please. I need you,” you whine, not being able to wait any longer. Instead of giving in to what you want, Joel laughs lightly. 

“Sorry, baby, I couldn't hear you; what do you need?” He taunts you as he runs a finger along your folds, making you whimper as frustrated as his teasing. 

“Joel! Oh my god, just fuck me-” Your snappy sentence is cut short, interpreted by his big cock slowly entering the tip inside you; both of you gasp as he pushes more of his length inside you. 

“You just don't know when to shut up, do you, baby? I told you I’d give you want.” His voice is deep and condensing, which arouses more if you're being honest. 

He moves his hips a bit more, and your moans fill his office. And you feel him bottom out inside you, but he doesn't move, letting you get used to his size. After a minute, you nod, letting him know you could move. He slowly moves his hips, thrusting inside you, and you moan more as you feel him deep inside. 

“F-Fuck Joel, you’re so big. Feel you so deep,” Joel growls as his hips start moving faster; he grips your hips tightly fucking into you more. Joel’s office desk rattles underneath you from the force Joel was fucking you. 

“I know, baby, I know, baby. God, You feel so good. How’re you so tight every time? ‘Feel you clenching ‘round me, sweetheart.” his thrust gets faster. 

“Fuck-fuck Joel right there.” you moan as his hard cock stretches you out. You hear him groan as he fucks you harder after hearing the name. He pushes you down onto his desk, moving his papers and construction plans out of the way, off to the side. You feel his hand grab one of your legs, lifting it up onto the desk. The new angle has you feel more of him deeper inside your sensitive core; the arousal builds as you feel your release building, and Joel can, too. 

“Fuck…Joel…I’m-I’m.” You moan and whine as Joel continues thrusting inside you, helping you reach your release. He reaches a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit as he continues fucking into you, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“C’mon baby, I feel you squeezing ‘round me. Know you’re close. Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

 You feel the knot in your lower stomach and hold on the desk as you cum around Joel’s cock. Your orgasm hits hard, and closing your eyes, you shudder, coming down from your release. 

“That’s it honey, that’s it. Good girl, fuck baby, ‘m not gonna last much longer, Jesus-.” Joel grunts as his thrust gets more and more sloppier. Joel presses deep inside you. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as cums. His warm load releases inside your sensitive cunt. You both let out a moan together before relaxing against his desk. You feel him slide out of him, you breathing heavily. 

Joel slowly pulls out after taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath. He lets out a low groaning “Goddamn.” 

He sits back on the chair. He gently grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. You turn, pulling Joel into a kiss.

“I love you, sweetheart, but we gotta head out before the alarm comes on.” You nod, kiss his cheek, and then down his neck, feeling his hands on your waist.

“You don’t know the alarm code to your own construction office?” you ask a bit skeptically, but Joel just laughs and hands your skirt to you from the floor. 

“I know the code, smartass, just don't feel like messing with the damn thing.” he explains as he’s cleaning you off with a tissue. You nod before leaving his lap, putting your skirt and underwear back on as Joel adjusts his pants. 

“Oh shit, almost forgot. The Smiths said they want to change the hardwood they chose because they don’t think it matches the new wallpaper and wanted to expand the kitchen..” Joel turns his computer off, grabs his coat, and his hand goes to your waist, leading you out of his office. He listens to you tell him about the client from earlier. Ushering you out the door to his truck. 

“Honey… I don't work after 5 p.m., so you don't work after 5 p.m., come on.” He opens the passenger seat of his truck before getting in the driver's seat.

“I know, I just need to write it down so I don’t forget my boss is a real hard ass.” Joel rolls his eyes at your teasing, as he pulls out of the office parking lot leaving, to take you home.

[luckykiwiii101]

OK HERE'S SOME ADVICE + SUCCESSFUL STORY ??

The moment I started to be more faithful with the law of assumption was when I finally decided to stop using tumblr or reddit everyday. Even when I was scrolling out of boredom, I still absorbed every piece of information I read unconsciously, which is why I kept doubting my power as the creator.

I only stuck to one method: repetition. I affirmed calmly for days, visualized for less than 5 mins whenever I felt like it, plus there were days when I didn't put much effort (I was confident that in the end, I was going to have it no matter how much time I invested, in other words, "I have it right now whether I can see it or not since imagination is true reality." This helped me stop caring about circumstances and remain patient as I enjoyed what I was given).

Then this happened – I slept without expecting much and woke up in my waiting room!!!!! Which is what I aimed for!!!

At first, I struggled with what I should do to manifest after I stopped using tumblr. I didn't know I had become so dependent on other people's methods and advice.

Throughout my journey, I was left with only my own intuition and the information I had collected for months (WHICH I didn't put to good use when I was using tumblr/reddit, I just kept going back and forth). Due to my dependency on relying on different sources, I felt desperate, but I had no one but myself to assure me I was doing the right thing. I kept assuming I was doing everything as it was meant to be everytime I needed it, without having to check someone else's post about my issues.

You can't fail the loa, you can't do the loa wrong, you just can't. Step back, and realize you're the one assuming it as such. You have full control of your conscious mind, so you're the one to blame. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (srry for the tough love bit)

If you ever feel impatient (which was one of my problems), you have to look at the end goal and realize it's yours! You don't have to feel anything, you have to recognise and know that the reality you're living in is the one you've been looking for! This way, you don't have to look at how much time has passed, knowing that you're gonna have it anyway.

TL;DR: trust yourself folks. It may not be necessary, but it is essential to stay sane imo.

And now that I have access to my WR whenever I want, I will eat every food I always wanted to try/repeat and stop worrying about life. 😝

SUCCESS STORY

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

THIS IS AMAZING!! I love it!! Your hit the nail on the head with the advice there!!! Manifest on your OWN terms. Nobody can tell you what to do and how to do it. God does what God wants!!!

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bagman

warnings: none.

summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.

a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.

The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.

“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.

“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”

“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”

“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”

He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.

“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.

“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.

“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”

“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.

It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.

“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.

“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.

“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.

I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.

“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.

“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.

“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.

I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.

“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.

“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.

“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”

The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.

After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.

“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”

“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.

“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”

“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.

“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.

“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.

“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.

“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.

__________________________________________________________

JAKE’S POV:

“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.

“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”

“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”

“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”

“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.

By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.

“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”

“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”

“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”

Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.

“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.

“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”

“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”

I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.

“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”

“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”

“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.

“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.

“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”

Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.

“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”

“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.

Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.

“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.

“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.

“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”

The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”

“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.

______________________________________________________

READER’S POV:

I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.

“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.

“How did you get my number, Bagman?”

“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.

“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.

It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?

[l-starsz]

a/n: i don’t actually like this but i planned to post it when i was writing it so yeah:) also i wrote this because most if not all of my inbox is smut requests (i’m not complaining) and i felt like writing some fluff

my heart was hurting. everything was hurting and i didn’t know why. i closed my eyes and tried to distract myself. i played music. i watched something. no matter what i did, my mind wandered back to one thing. her voice.

i tried watching videos to hear her voice but it was no use. i needed to call her. i knew i shouldn’t though. she was out with friends. i needed to give her space. i tried so hard to keep myself distracted. i really did try. i couldn’t though.

my mind began to wander off. back to the one thing i was trying to avoid. i couldn’t. i’d been doing so well. i had the strongest urge. but i knew i just needed to keep myself busy for a little longer. just until billie was home.

i managed to keep myself occupied for all of 10 minutes before i couldn’t anymore. it was either hurting myself, or call billie. and i know what she’d rather me do. and i know what i wouldn’t regret later. i picked up my phone, finding billies contact before deciding whether to facetime her or just call her.

i ended up calling her, i didn’t want her or her friends to see how i looked. i wasn’t sure if she’d answer. she’d answer if she were to see my call, i know that, but i was worried she wouldn’t see it since she was a little busy.

as soon as i heard the ringing, my heart dropped. what if i ruined her day? what if she got mad? i tried to push those thoughts aside as i heard billies voice down the phone after a few rings.

“hey baby! everything okay?”

i stayed silent for a second. i didn’t want her to be mad at me.

“what’s going on love? talk to me.” her tone softened slightly.

“i.. i’m having a difficult day.” i sighed.

small tears rolled down my cheeks as i sniffled, trying to keep myself calm.

“tell me about your day, i’ll try to make it better baby.” i heard her move, probably to somewhere more private where we could talk.

“i just.. i don’t know i’ve just been stressed and i feel anxious. i needed to hear your voice to distract me a bit.”

she comforted me for a little bit and made sure i’d calmed down. she ended up making me laugh and making my mood so much better.

“i’m proud of you for calling me. i’ll be home soon okay?”

“okay billie i love you. thank you.”

“i love you, see you soon pretty girl.” she blew some kisses down the phone, and i did too before ending the call.

i decided to go make some food for when she got back, i mean she just took time out of her day to comfort me when she could’ve ignored me and spent time with her friends, so i wanted to do something for her.

i put my headphones in and turned some music on, then began making the food. because i had my headphones in, i didn’t hear when billie walked in the house. i was in the middle of stirring the food when i felt two arms wrap around my waist, and one of my headphones being taken from my ear.

i flinched before i heard her voice.

“hey baby, i missed you.” she whispered to me, placing a gentle kiss on my neck.

“i missed you more bil.” i smiled, turning in her arms to hug her.

we swayed side to side for a minute before i heard her speak.

“i’m gonna go change, do you need any help?”

i shook my head and smiled, giving her a gentle kiss before she spoke again.

“are you feeling better now? did it help when you called earlier? i just wanna make sure you’re okay.” she took my hands into hers.

“i feel so much better thank you my love. i’m sorry i had to call you whilst you were spending time with your friends.” i mumbled the last part, feeling genuinely guilty.

“don’t be sorry angel. i want you to call me anytime you feel like that no matter what i’m doing. i care about you so much and i’d do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“are you sure?” i whispered.

she pulled me closer into her embrace again.

“of course i’m sure. now i’m gonna go change and then we can talk about what was bothering you. okay?”

i nodded against her, letting her go before i finished the food.

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

for the first time - 1.2k words

ex!Patrick Zweig x college!reader

you guys... i wrote something... and it ends abruptly but i felt like i'd rather post this and then post a follow-up later than keep this in the drafts for another 2 months...

inspired by "For The First Time" by Mac Demarco

based off of a request from a long time ago from @rayhalloffame but then i got inspired by the mac demarco song and lost the original plot- my sincerest apologies for that... (so so so sorry that this was so late and also that i lost the plot...)

basically patrick is your ex and you went off to college trying to forget about him, avoided him for a couple years, but this year you've brought back your new (shitty) boyfriend, taken him to your hometown bar, where patrick also happened to be.

tw! for drinking, also abrupt ending, also im not the best writer but i wanted to contribute something...

~~~~~~~~~~~

While she’s been away

Living day-to-day has been tough

Without her by my side

Simply being alive has been rough

And though she won’t be gone forever

There are many times I find it feels that way

And I’m not trying to forget her

Just understand how I’ll be feeling on that day

The bar was surprisingly packed, even for a Saturday night, and the overlapping conversations around him were so loud, it was hard for Patrick to even hear his own thoughts.

It was the weekend before thanksgiving, and it seemed that everyone was back in town for the holiday. Patrick recognized the faces of a lot of his old classmates from high school around him, but not you. 

He knew that you’d come back to town the past few years for the holidays, but he somehow never saw you out. He figured that you must’ve been avoiding him. You two hadn’t seen each other since the summer before you went off to college, the summer that you broke up with him.

He could remember it vividly: it was a hot July day, and you had told him to come over. You opened the door, looking like you had been crying for a while, having that closed-off look that Patrick hated. 

“I just… can’t go off to college with a boyfriend from back home. Long distance never works.”

Those exact words had been engraved in his mind since that day. Patrick Zweig had never been one for commitment, but something about you was different. Losing you had felt like losing part of himself. But he wanted you to do well in college, so he accepted it. And moved on.

Or, at least, he tried to. But even two and a half years later, things without you still didn’t feel right. Patrick felt pathetic; still stuck on some old childhood friend-turned-high school sweetheart that definitely wanted nothing to do with him. But, he still cared. 

So, here he was, standing next to his best friend Art, who had just come back from Stanford, in the middle of a loud, rowdy bar full of college kids. He already knew that you’d be avoiding him again this break, like you’d done for the past two years, but it didn’t sting any less to know that he’d go another year missing you, while you were off at college living your own life. 

Without her by my side

Simply being alive has been rough

It was right then that he saw you across the bar, standing in a group of girls that you’d been friends with back in high school, looking even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. 

You hadn’t noticed Patrick yet, and he was sure that when you did, you’d shut down and push him away again. You’d avoided him for so long, he was surprised that you two had even ended up in the same place. 

Next to you was some guy, standing stiffly and looking completely uninterested in whatever conversation you were having with your friends. It felt like a knife had just been shoved into Patrick’s stomach. He figured that you’d move on eventually, and he’s been with girls that he met on tour since he’d dated you anyways, but seeing you, with this boring, pretentious-looking guy felt unbearable. 

That “guy” was your boyfriend, of about 6 months now, that you’d finally brought home to meet your family. He was boring, and uninterested in the things that you liked, but he was stable, and seemed like a good option for you. So, you two had started dating. 

Everything with him was just… ok. He had a habit of talking down to you, making you feel dumb, and explaining things to you that you’d already known. He didn’t put much care into the relationship, he had never gotten you flowers or anything, but that’s just what guys are like, right? He treated you just fine, and you guys didn’t fight much, so it must be a good match. But something for you was just missing. 

He just… wasn’t Patrick. As much as you resisted admitting it to yourself, deep down you knew that you missed him. Which was basically why you had avoided him at all costs for the past two years, knowing that as soon as you’d start talking again, your progress of “moving on” would be completely wiped away. 

But now, the winter break of your junior year in college, you’d started to be less careful about avoiding the popular spots. Maybe it was just you being careless, or maybe you were hoping that you’d see him somewhere, at the bar, or the club, and have the “chance encounter” that’s been replaying in your daydreams since you started dating your current boyfriend. 

So, already on your third drink of the night, you couldn’t look away when you locked eyes with Patrick Zweig. God, he looked good. He’s gotten more toned from tour, and you’d forgotten just how tall he was. You could feel your boyfriend standing like a statue beside you, scrolling on his phone while your friend updated the group on all of the hometown gossip. But you couldn’t look away from Patrick. And he knew it.

Before you could fully process it, Patrick Zweig was there, standing in front of you. After two years. You wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look he was trying to keep pressed onto his face, but you could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at you. He looked so much… softer with you than he did with anyone else. You’d forgotten about that. 

Even your friends smiled when he joined the circle, standing across from you with an almost sheepish smile. Against all odds, they liked him as your boyfriend. At least more than they liked this stuck-up finance bro that you’d brought home this year. As your boyfriend, Patrick had almost become one of the girls, always joining in on a gossip sesh with you all as he held you on his lap, while this current guy acted like he was above that kind of “girly stuff”. 

And you just wanted to fall back into his arms. And god, he wanted that too.

But the idle chatter kept going, as you looked at the ground in silence. Your boyfriend didn’t pay any attention to your current state, he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation anyways. But Patrick did, he always did. 

“So… how have you been?” he asked, as you looked up hesitantly. And, at his voice, your boyfriend finally looked up from his phone. 

“She’s been good,” your boyfriend said, his face contorting into a bitter snarl. “I’m her boyfriend, by the way. Who are you?” he asked Patrick, his voice immediately sounding defensive.

The conversation passed by uncomfortable between them, as you dissociated from the scene before you. Your boyfriend sucked. You missed Patrick. And maybe it was wrong to break up over something like that, but in that moment, you just couldn’t care. 

Finishing your third drink, it all passed by in a blur. You pulled your boyfriend away for a second, ending that relationship before you did anything else. It was impulsive, and not your best moment, but honestly it needed to happen. 

And you ended up back with your friends, as your boyfriend ubered back to the hotel, talking and laughing with them, feeling at home for a moment. 

The rest of the night passed by in a blur, as you fell back into Patrick’s arms as the conversation with your friends continued, him laughing alone, his arms snaked around your waist from behind as you leaned against him, the haze of the bar finally feeling relaxing, instead of too loud or too chaotic. 

[0mg-bird]

How Did It End?

Post Prison! Spencer x Fem!Fiancee Reader

Summary: Almost four months since Spencer came home and the fairytale that once was your life has come crashing down around you.

Warnings: ☹️ ouch. Angst. PTSD. Taylor Swift ‘How did it end?’ coded. hurt/comfort. this hurt to write, don’t hate me. Reid my poor baby has some stuff to work out.

W.H. Auden once wrote,

‘Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky and feel its total dark sublime, though this might take a little time.’

Poetry was something you were no stranger to, given the fact you taught an advanced creative writing class at the local high school.

You once enjoyed poetry.

But now, when the words feel like knives aimed at you, you can’t bear to indulge in the afternoon readings like you used to.

Instead, afternoons are spent in an apartment that somehow lost its warmth. Before, you’d claim it’s because Spencer was gone, that things would be brighter when you brought him home. He’s been home for three months, a little longer, the weather has begun to change, warping into a melancholy winter. You sit at your desk, staring at your computer screen, spinning your engagement ring around your finger.

You’ve been trying to get back into writing, trying to revisit your archived story. Though, it’s hard to revisit a fictional romance mystery when there’s nothing to inspire it.

Groaning, you delete half of the last paragraph you’ve written and try to type something that isn’t cliche. Pushing through the urge to stop, you write until the words flow thoroughly and there’s a key turning in the door.

There he was, the love of your life.

Spencer trudges into the apartment and drops his bag by the door, his shoes find a home beside it. The circles under his eyes are darker than they were this morning when he left, he runs a hand through his hair and glances over at you when you stand with a grin.

“Hi.” You do your best to beam, conveying just how much it excites you to see him.

“Hi.” He mumbles, tossing you a tight lipped smile as he walks towards the bedroom.

Trying to push away the sick feeling in your gut, you turn back to your blind optimism and take your glasses off.

It takes eight steps from the bedroom door to the closet, it takes him three steps to pace and grab casual clothes. In about a minute, he takes off his day clothes and pulls on something that doesn’t feel constricting. You memorized every foot step he makes in this home, it’s easy to focus on when you spent some time not hearing it.

By the time he comes back out to retrieve his bag and sit on the couch, you grab up your laptop and sit on the other end of the sofa.

Paperwork and files soon lay on the coffee table and you watch him organize and complete end of the day tasks. Patiently waiting your turn, when Spencer finally relaxes back into the cushions, you slide closer.

“How was your day?” You ask.

He grunts. “Nothing worth talking about. Oh, I’m going to Connecticut next week to do a seminar, I’ll be gone two days.”

You nod. “That’s exciting, right?”

He shrugs, then there’s silence.

You scoot closer. “I was working on some things, I think I’m finally getting back into the groove of it. You want to read the last chapter I made?”

He motions to the coffee table. “Yeah, just leave it there and I’ll take a glance later. I’m debating on if I want to shower before dinner or after.”

“I was thinking we could go out for dinner, we haven’t in a while.” You offer with a hopeful smile.

Spencer frowns. “I’m not really feeling a social scene right now.”

“Oh, yeah, no, of course.” You quickly say. “We could do take out then, Italian maybe?”

He shakes his head. “We shouldn’t do take out anymore, it’s basically inviting a serial killer into our home, giving him some place to come back later when I’m not around.”

Right. The paranoia.

You knew things were going to be different when Spencer came home, and you did your best to adjust with an open mind. Sleepless nights consoling him, countless days spent trying to pull him from his own mind. Through tears and breaking points and a few instances where he utterly scares you, you know he’s still your same Spence, but just a little hardened now. He’s still the man who spent too much on a ring, still the dorky guy you fell for those years ago.

Things are just…a little rough.

“Okay.” You say to his statement. “I’ll whip something up then.”

At the sight of your willingness to give something up, he feels immensely bad.

“No.” He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I’m being stupid. Italian sounds fine.”

The bad habit of being too harsh on himself has been hard to kick, but it’s getting better… you think.

So you order Italian and eat in front of the television while Spencer fact checks what the characters are saying, criticizing the antics of these fictional people. It feels so normal, the whole situation, it makes you momentarily have amnesia, as if the two of you are exactly like before. You lean into his side and laugh at the sitcom, thinking that this Spencer hasn’t experienced what he has, that everyone around the two of you still feel the happy affects of your love, that you test wedding cakes and look for a bigger place. A place the two of you can buy together and start a family.

“I’m gonna shower.” He says, rubbing your shoulder.

Looking up at him, you smile playfully. “Want company?”

There it was, that reminder that things weren’t like before.

He kind of just shakes his head with a smile and leaves without anything else.

You know he doesn’t mean to, but sometimes he makes you feel about an inch tall. He used to look at you with this heavy gaze, something needy, something that never failed to make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. His hands would find a home on your skin, he used to kiss for fun.

You don’t remember exactly when he last gripped you in a way that wasn’t just polite.

You know he has fears, he has it in his head that he is a danger to himself and you, that his hands are murderous, but it doesn’t feel the best when you’re constantly rejected by the man you’re going to marry.

Rubbing your eyes, you clean up the dinner mess and then go to the bedroom to slip into pajamas. The floor length mirror shines your reflection, you stop to stare.

Maybe you weren’t the first pick, maybe you hated what you saw sometimes, but the thing about Spencer was he was so sure that no one could ever do it like you. A slew of compliments he’d give you, the fever of his love was scorching.

You give the girl in the mirror a smile, then comb her hair with your fingers and smooth your tank top.

Silly enough, you turn to the side, wrapping your arms around an invisible bump, and you smile fondly at the thought. Two kids. A boy and a girl. Little geniuses. That’s what he and you would talk about. The next thing after he marries you, the next thing he’d do was give you a baby. He swore up and down at night when you laid with your head on his beating heart, he’d give you the family you craved and your face would hurt from smiling so much.

All plans are at a stand still now.

And that’s okay, wasn’t it? This was a rough patch and you’re helping Spencer get through it because you’d help him with anything-

The bedroom door opens, Spencer walks in and you step away from the looking glass.

“I’m going to get ready for bed.” You mumble, walking past him, cheeks burning red.

To say the least, Spencer feels horrible. Here you were, giving him your undying loyalty, holding his hand through all of it, and he’s the reason life has stopped. You’re so brave about it, always patient and understanding.

He hates it.

You should be angry, you should be arguing. He knows his bad moods kill you, he knows you’re waiting for things to be normal again and they won’t. You get up in the middle of the night when he’s asleep and put on your wedding dress, just to smile at yourself and promise that soon, it’ll be better. You think he doesn’t realize, that he’s passed out, but from the bed he watches you turn in front of the mirror and bite your lip, the way you always do when you’re too pleased with something. Then he sees you cry, softly, hand pressed to lips so you don’t make any noise and inconvenience him. You only let the break happen for a fee minutes, then you wipe your tears, take off the dress and tell yourself that it’s all alright.

Things will be okay.

What if they won’t?

What if it all just crumbles, every wall of the castles built?

It’s not a matter of ‘what if’s’ anymore, is it? Not when the two of you argue into the morning about things. You’re trying so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt but when he isn’t giving you anything at all, it makes for situations like this one.

Head in your hands, you pause for a brief moment and breathe before looking back up at Spencer. The two of you have been at this for about an hour and a half, all because you mentioned how unfair he’s being. Here you were, taking the scraps he throws to you like you’re a dog, and he’s saying it’s you who is unfair.

“I know you want things to go back to the way they were, but it’s not gonna happen.” He says in that bitter tone you hate, looking down at you, sitting on the mattress.

“I know things are different, Spencer.” You claim. “But I didn’t think I had to be okay with you hardly looking at me, or-or not baring to ask me a simple question like how my day was.”

He scoffs at you, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m sorry if my attention isn’t devoted to you now.”

You stand to match his position. “Don’t make me seem selfish.” You shout.

“I’m- you’re not selfish, I just…what do you want from me?” He questions, throwing his arms out and staring at you with absolutely no love in his eyes.

“What do I want?” You reword. “What I want is some progress. Every day I wake up, and I do my best to convince you that you’re not something evil, that these unforeseen circumstances don’t define you, and it’s like I’m stuck in a loop. I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself.”

A lump forms in your throat, your eyes burn but you can’t find it in yourself to let those tears fall.

“That’s the problem!” Spencer shouts. “You’re looking at me like I’m some sort of sick animal and I can’t stand it!”

“You’re looking at me like I’m not the love of your life anymore, so I suppose some things change.”

Silence.

Spencer’s at a loss for words.

Your tears start falling now. You wipe at them with fever.

“I’m trying to give you time, Spence.”

“Angel-” He tries to interrupt, only to be stopped with the movement of your hand in the air, halting him.

“Don’t. Don’t be like this. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but I have felt so alone.” You say with a squeak. “And you just… don’t care.”

He shakes his head, demeanor changing. “Of course I care!”

“Really? Because it feels like you gave up on me when you gave up on yourself.” You gasp lightly, trying to calm your shaking hands. “And that’s mean, baby. I know you have been through so much and you lost the game of chance, and I’m sorry- I am so sorry, but you can’t toss me aside like I haven’t formed my whole life around you!”

It’s strange, standing in a room that once knew laughter and the warmth of your escapades. Only now, it’s ghostly and tired and blue. Spencer wants to defend it, wants to shout that you’re just not understanding him but it’s wrong. You understand him better than anyone ever has, and you’re immensely right, he’s abusing the situation. He knows all of this and can’t help but back peddle like his life depends on it.

“I’m not trying to toss you aside, I’m sorry.” He says, reaching out to grab you, deciding his touch can’t be your downfall.

But you side step him. “But you are, do you not understand? Use that smart head of yours to realize the instance here.” You plead. “If you’re done trying, then I am to because I have no more to give. I’m empty, you took it all from me, Spence. What do I get in return? Nothing, not even a fucking marriage.”

There’s a certain level of hurt that mixes with the anger and creates something crazy in your brain, makes it malfunction and all your repressed thoughts come out.

As you go to leave the bedroom, Spencer follows after. “What does that mean?” He asks.

You need to get out, these walls are whispering with your promises of a future, they’re getting louder.

“You aren’t going to marry me.” You state, searching for some place to hide and sink away.

“Of course I am.” He claims, calling your name to stop you.

“You can’t even pretend like you love me, Spencer, you aren’t going to marry me.”

A hand catches your arm and spins you to face him. His eyes are confused and reeling.

“I do love you, I always have.”

There’s a waver in his voice, is there?

I swallow. “Say it again. With feeling.”

“I love you!”

As the air leaves your lungs in a death rattle sort of way, you just can’t feel the warmth. It makes sense, ghosts have no heat, no matter how beloved they are. You know he expects you to give a different statement than what you do, and it hurts when you tell him the truth.

“I don’t think that’s enough now.”

“Don’t say that.” His tone comes out angrier than intended.

“I just did.”

One might describe him as a scared dog, one who lashes out now like he never used to.

“It’s not enough? Then why don’t you just spare yourself?” He spits, resembling a man you’ve never known, tossing your arm aside, probably too harshly.

The knife twists in your chest, you’re convinced you’re bleeding. Slowly, you nod. The ring seems to hold on for dear life, but you still pull it from your finger and offer it forward.

Everything inside of him feels sick as he reaches out his hand, watching as you drop the diamond into his palm.

With your heartbeat in your ears, you go to the door, sliding into your shoes and grabbing your heavy coat to brave into the weather. With Spencer calling your name, you shut the door on his impending questions of where you’re going.

Spencer stares at the door, and for a moment he can’t believe it all happened like it did. But he said the words and you followed his lead like the faithful partner you are and now you’re gone.

It takes him twenty two minutes before he begins to really panic. What if you’re gone forever? What if some force is going to take you now? Where did you go? Are you cold?

And if you left, that meant he’s alone for good, alone like he’s always been. How could he do this to you? He’s horrible, he’s a monster, all of those things he’s thought about are true.

He sets the ring on the counter, then throws the dirty coffee mug into the sink with such force, it breaks.

He paces the apartment while you stand at Penelope’s door, your dearest friend you only know because of Spencer, trying to hold it together until she comes to find you.

“What happened?” She asks, taking in your appearance.

“I don’t– know.” You sob out.

Two weeks later…

…

…

…It’s a weird feeling, having your spine split in half from carrying so much weight uphill for so long. You know a lot about weird feelings now, that empty space in your chest, Spencer sized, that’s your new lover.

Penelope sets a duffel bag by the pullout couch where you hardly move from, she’s been making trips to the apartment over the days to retrieve what you need.

“Hey, lovebug.” She coos softly, sitting by your knees, petting your mess of hair. “How was work?”

You open your mouth to tell her it was fine, that today was actually a good day, all the way up until Spencer texted you and asked if you wanted to move all of your things out.

A strangled sigh leaves your cracked lips.

This sums up how the last two weeks have been, and you wonder if Pen is a little embarrassed for you yet, the way you can hardly get out of bed.

“Emily and JJ and I are going out…why don’t you take a shower and come with us? It’ll make you feel better.” She says in such a gentle tone, one she’s learned that can get you to do anything.

It drags you to the shower, where you sag against the wall and do your daily crying. Then you get dressed and tame your hair and somehow make it to the bar.

Emily and JJ look at you with pity and you have no energy to be upset.

“Reid’s not enjoying it either.” Emily offers in a corner booth, because the conversation has turned to discussing the loss of your life.

Pen and JJ nod in agreement.

The BAU feels like they’re going through this break up at the way Spencer’s moods affect all of them. They’ve never known his anger like they do now, how he’s quick to snap, how the littlest thing sets him off. They’ll spare you, they won’t tell you how he swiped the picture frames off his desk, the ones of you and him. They won’t mention the fact that he hasn’t smiled once, that he looks like he doesn’t sleep.

They won’t tell you any of this but they’ll offer words of condolence or comfort, neither work.

“It’s going to be alright.” Emily encourages, squeezing your hand from across the table. “Heartache doesn’t stay forever.”

JJ nods like it’s going to fix the way you’re as empty as a drum.

“We all know how you’re feeling, don’t worry.” She says, her perfect, Barbie doll smile.

It makes you sick. You really shouldn’t take the anger out on anyone, but you do because there’s so much of it and you can’t stop it from flowing.

“You know what I’m going through?” You question her.

“Yes, I’ve had heartaches too.”

You suddenly can’t stand being here, you need to leave.

“You can go home to a husband, Jennifer, you don’t know how I feel.”

With those as your parting words, you flee, you tell Penelope you need air and you’ll see her at her apartment.

While you brave the cold city, the three women ask themselves how it could have possibly ended like this, with the greatest love of all in shambles. JJ calls Reid, of course she does.

“You need to fix this.” She tells him.

“…How is she?” He asks, sitting on the sofa, eyeing the framed pictures on the wall.

“She’s…lost. She’s ghostly, she-…Spencer, she loves you and she can’t stop. Fix it.”

“I don’t know how.” He says, monotone.

“How did it end, anyway?” She asks, seeing Emily and Penelope return with more drinks.

Spencer sort of sighs, though it’s sad and broken.

“I don’t know.”

- - - -

The air bites, it’s as cold as you feel, makes your bones ache. You wander in hopes of getting lost permanently, but to no avail, you know your city. Your city that feels so harsh and cruel, it’s one big reminder that you used to not walk the sidewalks alone, that you once stole kisses under streetlights. And as you’re walking down fifth avenue and memory lane, your feet drag you to the place you really want to go. In the time you left the bar and got frostbite from the early stages of falling snow, you’ve worked yourself up enough to believe you could stand your ground. Your anger has made a platform to stand on, you’re at the top of the fucking podium by the time you knock on the apartment door.

Why are you knocking?

Your name is on the fucking lease.

You shove the key in the lock and barge in, mouth agape, ready to fire.

And then you see it.

The bedroom door is only halfway shut, but you see movement. In the room that is gray and sullen, Spencer stands with his back to the door, staring at the cascade of white that he has laid on the bed like a memorial, like it was an open casket viewing.

Your podium shrinks.

“I was going to wear my hair up.” You say, causing him to turn and face you.

He’s tired, hair messy, unshaven, and those round brown eyes are the saddest things you’ve ever seen.

“I like your hair up.” He says, the words echo off exposed brick walls.

Heart beats pass, ba-bum ba-bum in your ears and you quickly huff and bush melted snow through your hair.

“I’ll get my things out now, if you want.” You say, choosing words carefully, eyes watching the way his avoid you.

“I don’t have any boxes.” He says, fingers brushing satin and lace before he picks the dress back up, puts it in the dust bag and death marches it to you. “You would’ve looked beautiful…you always look beautiful.”

How is it he can be so blissfully unaware? The smartest man you’ve ever known and he’s saying things to break your heart, with no clue that he’s doing it. You take that dress- that beautiful, vintage gown with the hundred fabric buttons running down the back, and lay it over your arm, then rock back on your heels.

“I can grab what I can and come by when you’re at work to get the rest.” You offer, wishing he’d say all the things you want him to say, like stay and I’m an idiot and I love you.

Spencer only nods. “Yeah. That works.”

“Okay…” You whisper, then drape the dress over the reading chair in the corner, the one too small for the both of you. You used to curl as small as possible on his lap with your legs over the arm and your head on his shoulder.

Every corner of this place is haunted.

In the closet, you pull the string and the lightbulb burns orange. You grab the two handheld suitcases, the ones you came home to find on the bed one day with Spencer telling you he was taking you to London while your school was on Spring Break.

When you come back out, Spencer’s left the room. There was no way he could watch you pull open the drawers where your things sat beside his.

With a knot in your throat, you fold and place things neatly and keep your cool like the mature adult you are.

That is until you grab the MIT t-shirt you’ve worn in. It’s a light gray color now, the neckline stretched so it only hangs right on you and not Spencer. Holding the ratty shirt you refuse to let him toss, that’s when you decide you don’t want to be a mature adult.

You’re a teenager with a broken heart is what it feels like, the world is ending and your soul has been split in half.

One tear comes, and then another, and one more until your face is soaked with your desperation and mourning. You ball that silly t shirt up at toss it away, and decide those suitcases are insufferable and onto the floor they go.

You stare at them, the clatter they made did nothing for comfort. With a raspy sigh, you sink to your knees to put everything back inside, and your blurry eyes drift to Spencer’s socks that appear in front of you after he hears the bang.

Wordlessly and gentle, he lowers his tall frame to crouch in front of you. The look in his eye is fools gold, it makes you think he’s the Spencer he was before everything.

You look at him, sure you look like a mess but you don’t care. Your chapped lips part and he’s prepared for the scolding, for your temper.

It doesn’t come.

“We were supposed to grow old together.” You sob out. “It was gonna be you and me, Spence, wearing matching outfits when we’re eighty, going to senior discount days at the theater.”

Those are the words that bring him back to reality, and the fall is harsh and he’s mortified that he’s done this to you.

You hiccup for air, pushing his hand away that tries to grab the suitcase. “I was going to walk down the aisle to an instrumental version of Heartbeat by The Fray, it’s unconventional but it’s my favorite song.”

“I know.” He whispers sadly.

“We didn’t make a deposit on that little venue with the pond, they gave our spot away but that’s okay, we were going to figure it out because we always do. We always do, Spencer.”

You’re not even sure you’re making sense but he understands, you could go mute completely and he’d understand because you’re his person, who he’s ruined.

“I know. I know, baby, I know.” He keeps repeating, adjusting to pull you away from the mess and into him.

With no strength left, you have no fuel for the fight. You fall into him, face in his chest as he sits against the bed and hugs you like he’s not seen you in years. It’s what it feels like, he hasn’t had you this close in too long. His fingers press into your skin, the warmth is almost groundbreaking in feeling, makes him unsure of where to hold you because he wants to touch everywhere, all at once. A lifeless frame full of hunger, you can’t move as you feel his caring grip in your hair, his lips to your crown as you can’t seem to get a solid breath in.

“Don’t make me leave you.” You plead, curling into him like a whimpering dog, clutching his chest to make sure there’s still a heart in there that beats for you.

Spencer’s crying now, the familiar feeling of fear in his lungs that don’t want to expand if you’re not around. He drags hair out of your face and presses his forehead to yours.

“I don’t want you to leave. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me.” He says with the emotion of the man before.

And just like that, you waltz right back into each other, you know the steps. Sitting in your fairytale, on the cold hardwood floor, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you both determine this isn’t the end of the greatest love affair they’ve ever seen.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this, in his lap, face red and salty as you stare at your bare left hand, but eventually the tears stop for the both of you. Spencer is the first to speak, he gently shifts, his hand sliding up your arm and shoulder to rest on the side of your neck, as if he’s checking your pulse.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps. “I’m sorry for everything, all of it, every single thing I did and said and ruined. I’m an idiot, angel, and you don’t know how lovely you are.”

Like water to a flame, those words are cooling. The grief and remorse in his tone makes you grab that hand checking your lifeline, and hold it.

“I’m sorry too.” You say. “For everything that went wrong and the fact I couldn’t do anything about it.”

His chest shudders, he leans down and kisses your forehead. “It doesn’t matter, it’s over now.”

You tilt your gaze up to meet his eye. “Is it?”

Bless you and the ground you walk on that he should worship better. Spencer gently runs his finger down your cheek and across your jawline. He nods then. “Yeah, baby, it is.”

[bellaxgiornata]

Don't Know What You're Talking About

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 1.5k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Flustered

Warnings/tags: 18+; suggestive comments, flustering Frank in a sundress

Summary: Stressed from a bad week, it's been awhile since you and Frank have had sex. You take the opportunity to intentionally rile him up because of it.

a/n: The last and final post leftover from Tuna-Tober months ago! Finally got around to editing it up and sharing after that unexpected hiatus. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“What a gentleman,” you teased lightly.

Squeezing past Frank, you slipped into the passenger seat of his truck before smoothing out the skirt of your dress. It wasn’t lost on you the way his dark eyes followed the movement of your hands.

“Getting the door for me and taking me out for brunch today? A girl could get used to this,” you continued, grinning over at him still holding the door of the truck open. 

“Know you been wanting to go to that new place,” he replied gruffly, his eyes returning to your face. “And you had a rough week. Figured it’d cheer you up.”

“That's sweet of you, Frank. It even gave me an excuse to get dressed up,” you told him, your grin growing into a wide smile as you pulled on the seatbelt. “Thankfully it’s Saturday, which means I can just focus on you today. And that is exactly what I intend to do. You've got my undivided attention now that this miserable week is finally over.”

A faint grunt fell out of his mouth in response before he gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement. As you settled into your seat, smoothing your sundress down over your thighs once more, you could feel Frank’s eyes roving over your body. When he continued to hesitate by the door for a second longer, you glanced up from beneath your lashes, catching his gaze as your brows slowly rose.

“Something on your mind?” you asked him.

Frank cleared his throat before giving a quick shake of his head. “Naw, it’s nothin’,” he muttered.

Bottom lip catching between your teeth, you fought back a laugh as you watched him close the passenger door. Your eyes followed his steps as he made his way around the front of the truck towards the driver's side. Gnawing the soft bit of flesh in amusement, you knew damn well what was on his mind. 

Frank loved whenever you wore a dress–especially this particular sundress that hung low and clung to your chest before flaring out over your hips in a way that usually had him struggling to keep his hands to himself. You’d chosen it on purpose for today because you had every intention of breaking that damn eight day no-sex streak you’d both accidentally been stuck in because you had been so frustrated at work this past week.

But first, you desperately wanted to rile him up on this little outing. Fluster him a bit. You truthfully never could resist the sight of Frank cursing under his breath and grumbling, his dark brows knitted together as he called you out on your bullshit. And you damn well planned to get a bit of a rise out of him today. Unbeknownst to him, it was practically foreplay to you.

Frank opened the driver’s side door before climbing into the seat beside you. Starting the truck, the engine roared to life with a rumble just before music began playing quietly over the stereo. Next to you, you caught the way Frank glanced in your direction as he put the truck in reverse.

“You just sit back and relax today, honey,” he told you, looking over his shoulder as he began to back the truck out of the driveway. “Lemme fix your bad week.”

Fighting the urge to grin devilishly at his words, you seized the opportunity he’d just presented you. Leaning back in your seat, you kicked your feet up onto the dashboard of his truck. Your neutral nail polished toes were hard to ignore in your wedge sandals as they sat right there by the windshield. Your dress, which was already on the shorter side, inched a bit down your thighs at the movement.

Frank started down the street, passing a few houses before he pulled the truck to a stop at the corner. He gave you a sidelong glance before he let out a grunt. Turning towards him, you shot him a curious look at the noise, doing your best to play up your innocent act. Frank’s head gestured towards your feet on the dashboard before he spoke.

“What’re you’re doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

You gave a small, innocent shrug in response before focusing back out of the front windshield. Watching him from the corner of your eye, you answered him casually. “You said to sit back and relax. So I am.”

Frank’s jaw visibly clenched in response, his hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel. His attention returned to the road, but you caught the faint huff he’d emitted at your response. 

“Yeah? Is that right?” he asked. “That all you’re doin’, sweetheart? Relaxing?”

“Of course, what else would I be doing?” you asked, still feigning innocence. 

“Pushing my buttons?” he shot back.

Throwing a hand over your heart, you turned at the waist in your seat and let out a dramatic gasp. It took every ounce of your willpower to refrain from smirking when his eyes darted over towards you, his brows furrowing in frustration as his eyes narrowed at you.

“Frank!” you said, pretending to be offended. “Why ever would you say that?”

“Cut the damn act, sweetheart,” he grumbled, eyes returning to the road as he continued driving. “You don’t think I know what you’re doin’ over there?”

“What?” you asked. “I'm just getting comfortable.”

His eyes flew down to your bare legs, the sunlight shining along them through the window and making them practically glisten in the late morning light. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fought down a laugh at the way his lips pressed together. 

“You got your goddamn legs up like that,” he said, one hand releasing the wheel as he gestured at your bare thighs, “and you expect me to think you're not doin’ it on purpose?”

“Maybe you should just focus on the road, Frank,” you suggested, struggling to keep the smile from your lips. “Instead of me.”

Frank scowled in response, both hands gripping the steering wheel so tight you heard the faux leather groan against his palms. The sound sent a bit of a thrill through you as you watched the muscle jump in his cheek.

“I am focused on the goddamned road,” he grumbled. “Damn miracle I'm still in the lane with your fuckin’ legs up like that, though.”

“Really, Frank?” you asked, doing your best to sound surprised. “Are my legs really doing that much for you?”

You caught the way he glanced over at you again, his eyes trailing over your bare thighs before making their way to your calves. He let out a quiet scoff before he shook his head, one hand leaving the wheel to run across his mouth in agitation. 

“They're goddamn distracting,” he grumbled again. “And you're teasin’ me on purpose.”

“I'm not doing anything,” you replied. “I'm just sitting here, Frank.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “Absolute bullshit, sweetheart.”

“What? Can't handle a bit of skin, Frank?” you teased back, gradually losing the act. “I know you like my dresses but…you're that distracted?”

His head turned over his shoulder, eyeing you closely for a moment. With a grunt and a shake of his head, he focused back on the road once more.

“You even wearing anything under that?” he asked. 

You bit your lip, trying not to overdo the coyness in your tone when you answered. “No, it's more comfortable with nothing underneath,” you answered him. “I've told you that before, Frank.”

“Goddamn tease,” he muttered under his breath.

Shifting in the seat beneath the straps of your seatbelt, you laid your head back along the headrest and closed your eyes. As you sat there pretending to relax and rest your eyes, you could practically feel the way Frank’s were roaming over your body. 

Shimmying in the seat again, you readjusted your legs on the dashboard, crossing the opposite leg over the one that had been on top. The hem of your sundress slid further up your thighs as you moved. You didn't need to open your eyes to know the fabric had revealed even more bare skin, especially when beside you Frank let out a curse under his breath. One corner of your lip twitched briefly upwards at the sound before you heard Frank let out a loud, irritated groan. 

“Dammit, sweetheart!” he growled. “I saw that damn smirk.”

Your eyes flew open, your head rolling on the headrest towards Frank as you openly grinned. “Okay, yeah,” you admitted. “I'm doing it on purpose. But only because you're so fun to fluster and it's been so damn long since we've had sex. I couldn't resist.”

Frank glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “Do I need to turn this truck back around instead, sweetheart? Take you back home? I was trying to give you a nice goddamn day and here you are doing this.”

“Relax, Frank,” you said as you rested a hand along his thigh, grinning when the muscle tensed beneath your palm. “I'll thank you plenty for the brunch date and for putting up with me afterwards. I promise.”

Frank shot you another look, his jaw tightening before he focused back on driving. “Can bet your ass I'm gonna hold you to that later, sweetheart,” he grumbled.

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia

[cherrysurf]

winning you back pt.2

-where haikyu boys try to win back you their ex gf

-this is lwk depressing but maybe it’s bc of the music im listening to rn LMAO

contains; atsumu, tsukishima, kita, sakusa, oikawa, iwaizumi

pt.1 of winning you back here!

atsumu; He still very much has all your pictures on his feed that he never deleted and never will you had to go minimal contact with him because he kept texting you every other day to try to get back together, he still loves you and thinks your gonna be his wife and that this is just a rough patch, so when you post that you’re going to be volunteering at osamu’s restaurant for a charity that osamu is doing for young kids to get into volleyball he takes it upon himself to cancel his practice for that day and go and join you two and begged and forced osamu to make you too work together so he can talk to you, and those dam miya’s being so good and weaseling there way back into life’s, it worked. You two are now talking again. You told him that you wanted to take this slow, but atsumu later that week posted a soft launch of you two at dinner.

tsukishima; tsukishima acts like he’s so nonchalant but no one’s seen him cry over how bad it’s killing him that you can fully ignore him when he’s usually the one doing that. He hates how bad he fucked up so he decided to make a plan to win you back, what does that mean he had to do? work at the same cat cafe as you, at first you weren’t on the same shifts and maybe hanging out with cats was a plus but getting crushed on by other girls wasn’t. Anyways as soon and he saw you two were on the same shift he couldn’t be more happy, it was a slow shift so he used this time to catch up and be very soft and respectful he saw you weren’t fighting back so he was thinking that was a step forward, until later on when a girl came by to order a drink and was clearly flirting with him so tsukishima ignored her, as she said “can i get your number?” you turned to see what he would do all he said was “no i have a girlfriend she’s right there actually, i don’t what gave you the confidence to think you could ask me” he said laughing which left the girl embarrassed and you flustered.

kita; Kita is forever my yearning man. He writes letters for you and sends them, you kept them all because you still didn’t get over him. He thought it was the right choice to let you go but he couldn’t have been more wrong, and I fear kita is the type to have a romantic scene like the movies. So what? anyways he comes by your hour IN THE POURING RAIN. to apologize “i’m sorry im selfish for breaking up with you yn, i just clean up well i forget myself” OOOO YOU END UP SOBBING BC WHO WOULDN'T?! anyways safe to say you kissed in the rain and he won you back

sakusa; stubborn ass ho. He was shocked when you broke things off even more when you actually stood on business, sakusa was one to keep his composure and not crashout but he couldn’t understand why he was so affected by the breakup it’s like his whole life flipped upside down. He even stopped keeping up with himself for a bit which was totally out of the norm. So when you saw him at your apartment in the lates of the night messy hair, wrinkles in his clothes looking dead you knew something was wrong, he almost felt like he could breathe again once you embraced him, disgusting and all and he didn’t let go since and tried to change for the better

oikawa; He acted happy at first like it didn’t matter because he thought you needed him more than he needed you. Oh how wrong he was, the fan girls didn’t support him the way you did, didn’t cheer for him the way you did, no one could cook as good as you, no one could get him out his depression like you could, so one night around 4am he gave you a call wanting to quit volleyball because he felt like he couldn’t do anymore without you there, which broke your heart because you saw how bad he was struggling without you there and that’s when he finally admits “I needed you more than you needed me. Come back yn, i’m sorry” and you did because you needed him just as much as he needed you.

iwaizumi; it was mutual breakup but not really he just did whatever he could to make you happy he hated fighting with you, he never deleted your pictures, he still kept all your stuff that you didn’t take at his house, he was still loyal even if you weren’t together, He blamed himself for not fighting back. he became very very career oriented that’s when he saw you at a job interview, you had just finished interviewing for the place he works at as a sports medical assistant. you weren’t aware he was working there so he stopped you and asked to get lunch since you were leaving and he was on his lunch break. That's where he apologized for not doing more and still thought about you and asked for a redo and would do anything for a second chance, and you agreed because you felt the same.

tags; @solarvrse (for the atsumu one) @sahrii (for the iwaizumi one)

[totalswag]

podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.

warning(s) none!

About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.

The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.

You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.

Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.

“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.

"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."

"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"

You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.

"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."

Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.

You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.

"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.

"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.

"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.

Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.

Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."

You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.

Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”

You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.

Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.

“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.

Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”

The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.

A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.

You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.

You scream. Literally scream.

Drew Starkey followed you.

Drew Starkey sent you a message.

"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.

Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.

Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!

What do you say?

How do you come off calmly?

Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.

Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.

After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.

One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 

You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.

Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨

Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting

When worlds collide fr 😏

Alright where the cameras at...

I fucking knew it!!!!

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[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 5:

1083 words on this one. Had it done for a few weeks, only now posting it. Sorry for that delay, folks! The last part is MOSTLY done too, I just need to read it again one last time. Then I’ll have a vote on what Starscream thing to write next.

Part 4: here

——————————————————————————

The…

wings?

“If you’re alright with that?” She added, and Starscream flinched, those very wings pricking up as he returned to reality.

“You’re- you’re really dedicated, aren’t you?” He smirked, slowly but gradually shedding the panic from the vent cleaning and returning to his usual self.

“Hmm, yes. I think I will allow you to.”

Starscream, seemingly fully embracing the fact that he was being given a spa day and that he totally deserved it for some reason, sunk back into the water lying on his cockpit. His arms were crossed under his helm, knees bent back so that his lower legs sticking out of the water.

The human about to climb over the tub suddenly stopped, contemplated logistics, and decided she was too tired to care if this was weird before promptly climbing onto Starscream’s back. The seeker’s wings fluttered and he made a sound of surprise when she settled between them, but he did not protest. Lifting his head he tried to look over his large shoulders, quickly giving up and returning to his previous position with a sigh.

“There ya go, stretch them out.” The human instructed as she gently brushed her hand over the length of one wing to guide him, having to lean over to actually reach all the way to the tips.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Starscream muttered back, although there was no real bite to his voice. He seemed almost sleepy again.

They felt very solid, smooth as they glided under her fingers. Barely any seams or imperfections sticking out. Not even the fastest human-made aircraft had wings this smooth. Weighted and rigid in her hold, yet with an elegance about them at the same time. She moved her fingers all over the surface, being firm but not rough while trying to spread soap all over the jet’s wings, coating them in white and bubbles. As for Starscream, the worst of his tension seemed to have melted away. It had been a long time, and he was annoyed to admit that this touch made him feel almost nostalgic. It was difficult to give his wings a through clean, without a trine to help him tend to them. As proud of his frame as he was, this was something he would not entrust to, or ask of, just anyone.

“Why don’t you extend your flaps too?”

“Excuse me?” He replied, lifting his head out of the water, brows furrowed.

“Want me to get everything, don’t you? Come on, quit holding out on me.” She grinned, patting him on the back. He could tell there was a personal fascination mixed in with her desire to clean him up. This human was a flyer, after all.

“Hmph.” His wings flared back in exaggerated offense, sending bubbles flying around.

“Hey!“

“Who do you think I am? One of your common ‘training aircraft’? Asking for my wing surfaces so casually.” He questioned, head propped up on one arm and tapping a talon on his cheek. “A word of advice: You really should stop taking this view for granted, pilot. Don’t think your choice of seating has escaped my notice.”

That made her chuckle, and he chuckled too. Starscream shrugged and quickly admitted mock defeat, keeping up his smug tone.

“But, I suppose since you’re so desperate and eager, I will take mercy on you.” His words were emphasized with the fluttering of his wings, and he gave a pause for dramatic effect.

Finally, with a sly grin and a satisfied expression, the seeker relented and held his wings up high. His high-lift devices extended swiftly. It didn’t feel mechanical at all, the way he moved them. There was no delay, no struggle, only a slight click when they locked into position. They moved just like any other part of his body, and that reminded her just how alive Starscream was. Flaps trailing from the back, and slats from the front. Except since the wings sat inverted on his back it was actually the other way around. They looked bigger now, the new pieces fitting seamlessly with the rest of the surface.

“Thank you, my Lord.” She replied without taking her eyes off him, and it made the seeker feel proud despite knowing she was only joking. The human resumed her work now that she had access to the entirety of his wings, scrubbing, every now and then moving her hand lower to scratch at the base where they would connect with his back. She took notice of how the jet shivered when she did that. Ailerons twitching in a way that she likened to feeling tickled. Wings tensing, shaking ever so slightly.

“You really do have some beautiful wings, Starscream.”

If Starscream himself was aware of it, he was too relaxed at this point to care. His frame was vibrating so faintly she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been sitting on his back, and the soft purr of his idling engine was nearly drowned out by the rush of the water she was rinsing him with. But it was there, unmistakably so.

“Of course I do.”

The seeker allowed her fingers to stick into the joint where his wings met his back without much more than a startled hum, burying his face into his arms as he felt her rooting around in search of debris.

“You’re not completely terrible at this, you know. You’re obviously unfamiliar, but considering you’re a human… you’re not bad at all.” His voice was soft. Unguarded.

“You think so?”

“Hmmm, yes. I do.”

The seeker stood up, albeit slowly, allowing her to safely slide off his back.

“In fact, I think I’ll return for another wash sometime.” He added with a cheeky grin.

“Hang on, I’m not done rinsing the soap.”

“That’s alright, I will manage.”

He shook his wings gently, the movement brushing off most of the remaining bubbles and water- part of it raining onto her- before he leaned down to awkwardly give her a pat on the head. This was definitely the calmest she’d ever seen Starscream.

“You’re leaving?”

Starscream hesitated, wings twitching as his expression turned to one of contemplation. He’d intended to do so on autopilot, but hadn’t given it enough thought whether that was the best course of action.

“It is best if I do, yes.” he finally replied, stopping as if he wanted to say more.

“Thank you.” He looked down at her and forced the words out. They felt awkward out of his voicebox. Unfamiliar.

[kisses4kuna]

How I think the jjk characters would comfort you after a break up !!

Includes: Satoru, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

(Hurt/comfort, mentions of break ups (obviously) murder and vandalism (jokingly), might be ooc, written with fem! reader in mind but anyone can read!! Please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, I accidentally posted this twice...!..!.!!! So fixing it was a little difficult so ignore it if any paragraphs are merged......)

Satoru Gojo:

You've been isolating yourself in your dorm for about three days now.

The guy you've been dating just dumped you and you've been devastated since.

Of course, Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, even Yaga have reached out and tried to comfort you, but you brushed it off with a muttered “I'm fine.”, being sure to shut the door in each of their faces before they could say anything more.

But you weren't fine. Of course you weren't.

You were so in love with your ex. He was your entire world and he just left like you were nothing.

You've spent the last three days crying, sleeping, and rereading old texts.

You probably looked like shit, but you couldn't care less. What was the point in trying to look or act decent now that he was gone?

You're forced to pull yourself out of your thoughts once you get a knock at your door.

You groan, you really, really don't wanna talk to anyone, but you force yourself to get up.

You open the door and before you can even get out a full “What do you want?”, Satoru shoves past you into your room with a shit-ton of snacks.

“Did you really think I was gonna let my favorite person stay isolated and wallow in their sadness forever?” He asks, giving you a teasing grin.

You can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

“What's all that for?” You ask, pointing to the snacks that were now covering the entirety of your bed.

“Movie night!! We're gonna watch a bunch of movies and eat a bunch of snacks and stay up all night until you stop being all mopey!” He exclaims, and you feel an excitement replicating his bubbling up in your stomach.

“If your big ass doesn't eat all the snacks...” You mutter back with a sly grin as you get into your bed, sitting beside him.

He immediately puts his hand over his heart and squeezes his shirt with a look of faux offence.

“What!? And to think I went out of my way to be all nice to you after your dick-head boyfriend dumped you!” He whines, crossing his arms to look more angry.

This only pulls laughter out of you. His face immediately softens, it feels much better to see your pretty smile than your depressed frown.

He pulls you into an unexpected hug, and once you process it, you hug him back.

“I can hollow purple him if you want.” He says, muttering the words softly against your hair in order to keep the moment quiet.

“That's not happening and you know it.” You whisper back. Suddenly, this break up isn't seeming so bad.

Maybe you just need Satoru and your other friends, and you'll be better in now time.

Nobara Kugisaki:

Ever since you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, you've been visibly down in the dumps.

Right now, Nobara is the only one who knows since she helped you catch him.

“I just can't believe him. All that time together and he fucking cheats.” You groan before looking up at Nobara, who's currently going through your closet to help you pick what you need to throw out and what you need to keep since you've got way too much clothes.

“Yeah, he's a total moron. Keep or no?” She asks before lifting up one of your shirts.

“You can throw that out. And with my best friend too? No offense to you, of course, but seriously? He could've slept with anyone, and he chose one of the girls I trusted most in the world.” You shake your head and your heart clenches at the thought.

“Well, at least one good thing came out of this.” She says, tossing your shirt into the ‘keep’ pile.

“What?” You ask with major confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She thinks it's good that you got cheated on?

“Now I get to be your best friend!” She smiles and laughs, and that causes you to laugh as well.

“Yeah, and I guess if he had cheating in his mind, I don't want him anyways.” You then get up off of your bed and sit next to Nobara, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She puts the pair of pants she was holding down and wraps her arm around you.

You both just sit like that. Neither of you says a word, but you feel a sense of peace washing over you for the first time since the break up.

“So do you wanna beat up his car now?” Nobara says, breaking the silence, and all you can do is smile and laugh.

Yuji Itadori:

“He did WHAT??” Yuji practically screams and you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

About thirty minutes ago, you found your boyfriend (well, now ex-boyfriend) kissing another girl.

Your first reaction was to run to Yuji's room despite it being midnight and pray to God that he was still awake.

When he answered the door, you could hear Human Earthworm playing in the background, basically telling you that you hadn't woken him up or anything.

Yuji stares at you with wide eyes and says something from under your hand, buts it's muffled.

“Yuji, you have to shut up! It's midnight and I'm not supposed to be in here! We'll both get our asses kicked if we wake anyone up!” You whisper-scream to him and he begins frantically nodding his head.

You remove your hand from his mouth and wipe it on your shirt since he got a little bit of his spit on it.

“Ew...” You whisper softly.

“I can't believe him! You're supposed to be his Jenifer Lawrence, guys aren't supposed to cheat on their Jenifer Lawrence's!!” He whispers back, somewhat aggressively.

You can't help but chuckle at his dumb reference.

“Tell me his address!! I gotta square up with this guy!!” He whispers again and you laugh again.

You don't know it, but he's acting stupid on purpose. He's not super skilled at comforting people, but he's great at making people laugh.

“‘Square up’??? Yuji, what is this? A 2000's drama comedy?” You whisper through hushed giggles, your hand now over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too hard.

“I'm serious, no one cheats on my best friend without catching these hands!!” He whisper-yells back, which only causes you to laugh harder.

He continues making dumb statements until you both forget the time and are now laughing hard, not even whispering anymore.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door that snaps you two out of your laughter.

Yuji quickly throws a blanket over you to ‘hide’ you in case it's a teacher then gets up to see who's there.

When he opens the door, he's met with an extremely annoyed and tired Megumi.

“Listen, I don't know what the hell you two are doing up at 1:30 in the morning but if you could shut up and go to sleep so that I can sleep, that'd be great.” He groans, glaring at Yuji then you.

“Do you think hiding under a blanket is actually gonna work?” He asks and you get out from under the blanket, your face is slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“That was Yuji's fault.” You say while pointing your finger at Yuji who them gasps.

“What!! I was trying to keep you out of trouble, how dare you push the blame onto me!!” He jokes back, and Megumi groans loudly.

“Just shut up.” He says before storming off back to his room.

Yuji shuts the door then walks back to his bed and sits beside you.

“We should have a sleepover!” He suggests with a big smile.

You tap your chin with your index finger, pretending to think.

“I dunno... You kick a lot in your sleep.” You tease him.

“I do not!” He retorts in offence.

“Fine. But if you kick me even one time then you have to do all my homework for the next month!” You say before laying down in his bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

He smiles and lays beside you.

“Deal.”

Megumi Fushiguro:

You hate this.

You can handle a lot of things, curses, training, homework, fighting...

But break ups?

You would rather take on a hundred special-grade curses all at once.

Megumi knows that about you. Which is why he's decided to let go of his nonchalant ‘I don't care about anything or anyone’ act for just today for you.

He knocks on your door and you answer.

“Oh, hey Megs. What're you doin' here?” You ask, your gaze shifting from his gaze to the blankets and snacks in his hands.

“Don't play dumb. You know I'm here to comfort you.” He rolls his eyes, walking into your room and setting everything down.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” You smile.

One of your favorite things to do is tease Megumi.

He knows that about you.

Come to think about it, Megumi probably knows everything about you. He's definitely your best friend. You'd probably choose him over anything and anyone. He knows your favorite songs, snacks, meals, movies, drinks, your biggest fears, your type, your pet peeves, everything.

So of course he came with every single snack you've ever said “Hey, this is really good” or “You know what you really need to try -!!” about.

Of course he came with his laptop to watch your favorite movies.

Of course he came with blankets and pillows to build a fort to watch said movies in.

Because contrary to popular belief, Megumi Fushiguro was the most thoughtful person you've ever known.

That's why he's your best friend.

“Oh, by the way, if you get a very detailed and remorseful apology from your ex, don't respond.” He randomly blurts out while building the fort for you two.

It's basically muscle memory for him after how many times he's done this for you.

“Megumi, please tell me you didn't threaten my ex into an apology...” You wince at the thought.

“I didn't threaten him.” He smirks as he puts the final blanket on the fort before crawling in.

You barely catch the smirk because it's gone within the same second it appears.

“Uh huh.” You reply sarcastically before crawling into the fort with him.

“So what do you wanna watch first?” He asks as he lists off all your favorite movies.

If you told anyone that the cold-as-stone Megumi Fushiguro was here in your dorm, building a fort for you and watching your favorite movies with you and cuddling with you when you both fall asleep, they'd laugh in your face.

But that didn't matter to you, since all you cared about was that you got to see that side of Megumi, and you wouldn't trade moments like this for the world.

---

A/n: this is basically just because I have evermore stuck in my head rn and it made me think ab Satoru helping reader after a break up!? Also, guess which one of them is my favorite 😋😋 I think it's obvious but idk..

[deantfwinchester]

A Half-Day

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader, same timeline

Ok so i didn't get em both posted n the same day, but two in two days ain't bad!! Hope y'all enjoy :)

Summary: Morning sickness with Baby #2 manifests a little differently than the first go-round. No worries - Joel's gonna take care of his girl no matter what.

Warnings: pregnancy, more euphemisms for vomit, and they already have another little one as well this time.

A/N: self-indulgent fluffy nonsense. guilty as charged

Word Count: 2.7k

____________________________________________________________

It’s better this time around, for the most part at least. Rather than a steady, consistent nausea most mornings when you wake up, this time it’s more intense bouts on scattered days. You’ll admit, it’s nice to not be intimately acquainted with the plumbing every day, but the days that you are? Damn pipes should take you out to dinner, as much time as you’re spending together. An awesome trade, really. 

One morning it’s so bad it doesn’t stop by the time you get to work. You’d left for work during a lull, having been lured into a false sense of security by the temporary return of your sea legs. But now it’s second period, and you’ve left class to hit the lounge bathroom multiple times — this is additionally unpleasant in a public restroom for sure. Once you finish you shut your eyes tight, breathe deep, and pick yourself up off the floor for the fourth — or was it the fifth? — time this morning, and exit the bathroom, straight into your closest friend on campus, the teacher next door to you. 

“Whoa, sweetie, what’s going on?,” she asks, holding your shoulder steady and taking in the sickly expression you’d been too surprised to steel into a smile. Her brows furrow deeper in concern when your eyes are slow to meet her own, “I stopped by your room to grab some of your spare copies, and the kids told me you were gone for the third time?” You stand up straighter and clear your throat, trying to deflect her concern — it doesn’t work.  

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little morning sickness, that’s all,” you nod, attempting to assure both her and yourself. 

“Babe, I heard you, and that wasn’t little. You been doing this all morning?,” she asks, eyes wide and borderline tearful. 

“It’s cool, I’ll get it together. I think,” oh god, it’s happening again. You attempt to swallow and finish your thought. “I-I think that’s the last of it,” you stutter, beginning to sweat a bit. She doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“Absolutely not. You’re benched for today,” she says, ushering you slowly to the couch in the corner of the room. After sitting you down, she grabs a bottle of water and twists off the cap, passing it to you, “Here. Little sips whenever you can manage. If you’ve been doing this all morning you gotta be dehydrated. I’ll let em know you need a sub. Where’s your phone?”

At this point you so badly want to avoid barfing again, you’re done fighting. You let out a tired “classroom,” between slow, measured breaths, and begin to sink into the worn sofa beneath. 

“Okay. Don’t you dare get up! I got your kids, and you’re going home.”

You can’t blame her, you’d be worried sick if the roles were reversed, and going home sounds pretty damn good right now. You nod and lay back against the cushion, closing your eyes and willing the nausea to subside. 

______________________________________________________________

Joel leaves work immediately after getting the call, worried out of his mind. Receiving a call from you outside of your lunch period was odd on its own, but answering it to a voice that wasn’t yours made his blood run cold. Luckily he recognized your friend’s voice fairly quickly as she informed him you needed to go home, and she didn’t want you driving. 

No urging was required, as Joel had his keys in his hand before she could finish making her request. He’d been worrying about you since he left this morning, while you insisted you were fine through a still-queasy grin. He knows you’ll be okay after while, but the fact you’ve been suffering all morning with this is breaking his heart.

Joel gets to school about ten minutes into your planning, and signs into the office, meeting your friend there who takes him to the lounge.

He enters to find you curled in on yourself on the couch, eyes closed like you’re trying to get a little sleep. He crouches down in front of you and gently pushes your hair back from your forehead to rouse you. 

“Sweetheart? You alright?” he croons. 

“Joel?” you say, voice rough with the grain of your battered throat from this morning’s festivities.

“Hey darlin’. I’m sorry you’re still not feeling good. Let’s get you home, huh?” he asks, standing up on his rusty knees and leaning forward to kiss the top of your head before grabbing your hands. “You ready to get outta here?” you give a small, miserable nod, and he feels his heart crack a little. He lifts you gently from the couch and rubs your back as he walks you steadily out the door.

You’re quiet as you make your way to the car. Joel sits you down in the passenger seat and reaches over your shoulder, buckling your seatbelt himself, and you smile in appreciation. 

“Wait what about my car, Joel?” you ask, though you certainly don’t feel like driving. 

“Don’t worry bout that honey, I’ll get Sarah or Tommy to come with me later on and we’ll drive it back. Not a problem,” he replies, squeezing your knee in comfort. You know he means it, too. He’s so sweet about it but you still feel bad. That’s more somebody else has got to do because you couldn’t get your shit together. 

Joel can see the guilt growing on your face, so he starts talking again, hoping to distract you. “You gonna be alright if we pick Vivi up before we head home?” 

“Yeah of course. isn’t it still a little early though?” you ask. It’s still pretty early in the day, not quite eleven o’clock. 

“It is,” he replies with a sober nod, “But i don’t feel like lettin’ you outta my sight anymore today, that’s all.” He tucks your hair behind your ear and puts his hand under your chin, lifting so your eyes to meet his own. Yours begin to water a little bit. You feel like a fucking baby, having to call home and be picked up in the middle of the day. You blink back the tears, and Joel sighs a little before turning away.

Joel gets in the driver’s seat, and sees you shaking a little, so he cranks on the heat. “You warm enough, baby?” and you just nod, keeping your eyes trained forward, and resting your head against the window.

“All right. let me know if you need to stop, or need air, anything, okay?” you give him a small “okay” in reply, and he pulls away. You ride most of the way in silence, but he grabs your hand and squeezes. He's pretty sure you’re upset, but he doesn’t wanna bring it up in case you’re just tired. The hormones have been doing a number on you this go-round.

______________________________________________________________

When he pulls up to the preschool and parks the car, he turns to you and before he can get a word out, the tears begin to fall. You’d spent the ride over trying to swallow the guilt eating at you. Leaving during the school day, making other teachers cover your classes, grading that needed to get done, getting behind on the lesson schedule, and pulling Joel from his own workday — the list of inconveniences you created today ran on loop in your mind. Joel’s eyes widen in surprise at the sudden shift in mood. 

“I'm so sorry, Joel. I’m sorry you had to leave work in the middle of the day to come get me like a fucking kid, this is ridiculous. I couldn’t just get my shit together, this is so stupid!,” you sob, face in your hands. You knew it was coming, and you’d rather not do it with Vivi in the car. Joel looks devastated to see you crying, and you feel the guilt expand. 

“Oh angel, what are you talking about? You think I'd rather be at work than here with you? I couldn’t get to the school fast enough when I got that call, sweetheart,” he says, holding one of your hands and wiping your tears with his other. You look back at him and sniffle, blinking tears away. 

“None of this is your fault, sweet girl. you can’t help that our little menace is in there making you feel so sick.” he says, resting a light hand on your belly to avoid agitating your nausea. “Don't you worry about work, school, the car, anything. That's my job darlin’. You’re doing the heavy lifting already, I'm just lucky enough to get to take care of you in the meantime. Please let me.” Your lip wobbles again, but this time the tears that fall are from joy and admiration. No matter how long you’re together, Joel’s unwavering care and dedication make you feel so loved it’s overwhelming. “Okay sweet girl?” and you nod again. 

Joel reaches over and pulls you into a tight hug, holding the back of your head, and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. Now I'm gonna run in and grab Vivi then we’re heading straight home so you can get some rest, alright?” He kisses you once more and squeezes your hand before getting out of the car.

He approaches the open classroom door and knocks. He's only about half an hour early since today’s a half day, but there aren’t any other parents there just yet. 

The teacher greets him warmly when she comes to the door. “Mr. Miller, hi! you’re a little early, we still have about thirty minutes left in play centers before the end of the day.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I came to get Vivi early so we could head on home. Her mama wasn’t feeling at work so I went to pick her up. Wanna make sure I don't gotta leave again today."

“Oh no, of course! Let me go grab Vivi. I hope everything’s okay, i know you guys are expecting.” 

“Yeah, she’ll be alright. The morning sickness did a number on her with Vivi too, poor thing.” The teacher gives a sympathetic smile and hands him Vivi’s backpack as the Assistant Teacher leads Vivi over holding her hand, which Vivi rapidly releases, running to the door excitedly upon seeing Joel standing there. “Daddy!” she exclaims, and Joel leans down to scoop her up in his arms, grinning ear to ear. He gives her a kiss on the cheek once she reaches his level, before addressing her.

“Hey there babygirl! We’re gonna head out a little early today, ‘s that alright?” she nods, and he thanks the teachers before turning around and heading out the door. 

Vivi waves bye to her teachers before continuing. “Why daddy?” 

“Your mama’s not feeling good, so we’re gonna get her home to get some rest, but I need your help. You wanna help me take care of Mommy today?” 

Her little eyes go wide with concern, and her little lip begins to wobble. he softens at how much it looks like yours. “is Mommy okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, she’ll be alright pumpkin,” he says, running his knuckle beneath her little chin to assuage her worry. “We just need to let her get some sleep and try to make her feel better okay? Your baby brother’s busy swimmin’ laps in there making your mama’s tummy hurt,” he smiles. Vivi nods back in understanding.

When they get to the car, Joel opens the back door by Vivi’s car seat and sets her down, ready to buckle her in, but she hops out to reach over and talk to you. Joel looks exasperated at how quick she is when he turns back and finds she isn’t there, making you chuckle. She excitedly greets you, and even feeling like you do, she brings a smile to your face.

“Hey honeybee, how was school today?” you say, giving her cheek a little kiss before Joel grabs her and sits her back in her car seat. She keeps yapping while he buckles her in, shaking his head in amusement. 

“Good mommy!” she says, and starts talking about the fun things she did today, specifically the art she got to make with the little dot paints. She loves those things. Joel grabs your hand again in the driver’s seat while you talk with Vivi, and squeezes before cocking his head to the side, letting you know he’ll keep her occupied in conversation if you wanna lay back against the window again.

______________________________________________________________

When you get home, Joel gets Vivi out of her car seat, and she runs to grab your hand while you walk inside. “Daddy said I could help him take care of you today, mommy,” she says, beaming with pride. Your heart melts at her sincerity and care. 

“That's so sweet baby, thank you so much.” Joel pipes up behind you both, having grabbed your bag and Vivi’s from the truck. 

“That’s right, and I also said your mama needs rest more than anything. So how ‘bout we let her get to bed and you help me get some lunch together, huh?” 

“Okay daddy. Mommy, you need comfy clothes before nap time,” Vivi instructs.

“Okay baby, I'll get changed. You gotta be hungry, so get something to eat with daddy first.” You mouth a “thank you” to Joel as you part from Vivi. He pulls you close and whispers “of course” in your ear before kissing your head again, and shooing you off to the bedroom.

You’re cozy in the bed when Joel comes in with Vivi after she’s eaten, and he can tell she’s flagging. She’ll be out like a light for her own nap in no time. She comes in with a bottle of gatorade in your favorite flavor, and Joel carries a sprite with a bendy straw and a sleeve of plain crackers. He hands you the items before grabbing Vivi and plopping her on the bed next to you, where she cuddles up next to your side, and he climbs in on her other side to hold you.

Joel asks you to try to eat a little bit before you get to sleep, and offers some yogurt or bone broth if you can stomach it. He'll also make peppermint tea “if you think it’ll help.” He's already coaxed two advil and half a bottle of water into you since you got home. You take a couple sips of the sprite and eat a couple crackers but tell him all you want right now is for him to stay there with you both. That’ll do just fine for him.

You and Vivi are both asleep in no time. You lean against Joel as he holds you, and Vivi’s leaned against you in his lap. He plays the tv quietly and dozes off as well. This is how Sarah finds the three of you when she arrives home, dropped off from the carpool after school. 

Joel wakes to find his oldest giggling and taking a picture of the three of you, and rolls his eyes before greeting her, and explains the day’s events while gesturing for her to join the pile. Sarah takes her shoes off and crawls into the middle as well next to Vivi, laying her head in your lap, listening to her little sister’s breathing on her right and her little brother’s movements in your stomach on her left.

You rouse just long enough to look down at Sarah and utter a tired “Hi Sweet Pea, how was your day?” cut in the middle with a yawn as you place a hand in her hair and begin carding your fingers through her soft curls. You’ve dozed back off before she can begin to respond, and she and Joel chuckle at each other and she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep under your drowsy ministrations.

Joel looks down at his family and nearly tears up. Sarah’s breathing evens out soon after, and he reflects on how lucky he is. As he’s about to doze again himself, he suddenly remembers the car still at the school. Eh, it’s Friday anyhow. The car can wait til tomorrow. He sighs in contentment, and joins his three girls napping in the late afternoon sun.

[ghostmoon1]

You know what, to start the year off, Imma make this lil appreciation post.

Now it's only been like, less than a year since I joined Tumblr about, I've been writing and drawing for years before this point, but the community here, especially the CoD community which I am mainly apart of just made me feel amazing. Everyone I've met here are some of the nicest people.

I have gotten my old hobbies back, giving me reason to write and draw again which have majorly helped with my own mental health, and now I just wanted to give the amazing people a shout out to start the year off, to hopefully make peoples days, and to just let them know that I appreciate yall!

In no specific order :3 and if you don't wanna be pinged again by me, please let me know and I won't!! No harm done, I hope this is okay :) and this is prob gonna be cringe or smt.. all sappy but like.Yeah here yall are lmao-

Putting them under the cut as there are a few :3

@gomzdrawfr - You've been a massive influence since I joined the CoD community, I adored your art from the very start, and your just such a sweet and kind person, one that I'm so thankful to have met, and so proud to be able to call you my friend. You're the first proper friend I've made here, and I can't tell you how much our talks make me smile every single time. And I'm also so thankful for the community you have sorta helped me get into, you've helped me feel comfortable interacting with more people here :3

@shadeops21 - You were honestly the person that got me to join Tumblr! I was looking for something to try and make my own Konig cosplay (that's been given up on bc motivation and Tik Tok just. yeahhh) and I found you, and all your amazing work! I basically made my account to see if you'd make any more, cause I just love what you do so much, it's got to be so helpful for so many people!!

@sleepyconfusedpotato - After Shadeops, you were the very second person I found here! And oh my gosh how much I obsessed (and still do) over your art, especially Jade. You inspired me to write my first ever fic on here, actually, where I made my first CoD oc ship with Soap, your art and what you do honestly helped me feel comfortable making something like that for myself, cause some of the toxic people on Tik Tok made me uneasy and unsure about that lol- And now, I finally have an OC I'm working in depth on, and you're my biggest reason to thank for that.

@soaps-mohawk - Your writing has inspired me so much, and I couldn't thank you enough for making your wonderful fic. I may not be like, a OG, but I've been there since around chapter 20 I think? I could be wrong, but half way through sorta. You are the biggest reason I started writing again here, you just create masterpieces. And this is the first time I've ever been hooked into a fic so much, and what got me into liking the Omegaverse (you hooked me and I can't let go of it now...) Thank you for taking your time with your writing, and thank you for all the inspiration you have given me.

@on-a-lucky-tide - Oh my gosh how much you have yanked me into the Nikprice community. I adore every single one of your writing pieces, and honestly, you are another who has helped inspire me to write more. All your writing is so filled with emotion and love, I want to be able to do that as well. Your a wonderful person, I've seen you interact with this community and everyone, and I just adore you as a person and all the hard work you put time and effort into creating.

@rainyrambles-overcod - I adore your oc's and rambles so much!! And I couldn't tell you how happy it makes me to have a friend that is okay with the tag games, I never know who to tag for those sorta things, but I actually feel okay tagging you and they are so fun and always brighten my mood :3 Keep creating, I can't wait to see what else you come up with. Thank you for all the tag games and fun!!

@nekrosmos - Yet another that has helped drag me into the Nikprice community or cult ig that too. Your art is absolutely amazing, I truly want to be able to draw like you do. Just everything about your art has me in awe, the emotion, the style, the love everything. Seeing your art brings me so much happiness! Oh and your writing is BEAUTIFUL. That also brings me joy to take a little time out of my day to sit and read the time and effort you put into everything, and how kind of a person you are. I always hope you'll keep creating, and always remember how much joy you bring both myself and others.

@daredaredoodles - I know we don't interact a whole lot, but you honestly mean a lot to me still. You were my first ever mutual on this site, and I will be forever grateful for this. Personally its anxiety that stops me from barging into peoples Dm's and talking, but yeah. Thank you for that, even if it is only a small thing.

@cricricorner - you were my first follower, and I still see you in my notifications from time to time, which always brings me joy! It's wonderful to see your followers still interact with your content, and I couldn't say how grateful I am. I couldn't tell you how happy I was to gain my first follower here, so thank you for taking your time to read my writing and see my art.

@daydreamsareallineed - You were pretty much the first person to show so much interest in my main fic!! And oh my gosh I couldn't ever tell you how much joy it brought me to read your comments, to have someone so interested in my writing, that personally I didn't even think was that good. I haven't given up completely on the fic dw, I'll hopefully update it soon! Motivation just go brrr. Thank you so much for all your support, it means the world to me.

And another shoutout to everyone who supports me, who follows me, and to every single one of you that like and reblog my content. I look through every single note I receive, I assure you none of you are left out.

And my final shoutout to everyone that creates on this site. The community here is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I adore scrolling through everyone's art, it all makes my day. I've never felt so comfortable and unjudged before. Thank you to everyone who contributes to this, you all make my day <3

This turned out a lot longer than I meant it to be- but I just wanted to share how I felt with this new year. I'm sorry if you'd rather not be pinged-

But have a lovely day :3 I love you all!!

[martsonmars]

Hi friends! I keep committing and recommitting to making a serious effort to come back to the fandom, and I think this time finally I got my Snowbaz feelings back for real. So I'm going to try. Thank you to everyone who kept tagging me; I'm a little lost re: new people existing on Tumblr, but I hope to catch up!

So much to do in this post. For now, some snippets.

Exhibit A: my writing goal for the month. It's okay if it doesn't work out, but I decided I need short-term writing goals and this is my first one.

Baz pushes his sunglasses up his nose, staring at the man behind the counter of the shop. He hopes that hiding in plain sight—without his costume, without his mask—is a more effective disguise than trying to wear a fake moustache.

The apron is there, gloriously stretching over a broad chest that does not turn Baz's insides into soup and make him wish he could go back three—five, ten—years and do everything differently.

Exhibit B: COBB idea. I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going right is never the right choice.

I've known this since the first time my father brought me along on his travels (read: I hid in his trunk) and I had to face a crocodile armed only with a blunt Swiss Army knife I'd stolen from said trunk. All because I'd turned right. And then right again.

When he found me, scraped knees and his precious knife lost in the belly of the beast, he didn't even yell. He just looked at me like he always did. Like the biggest disappointment in his life of failures.

Exhibit C: potential second COBB idea, that I'm going to submit only if I make enough progress by the end of the month.

[Baz] holds my hand like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. Present. The minutes are trickling away from us like sand in a broken hourglass. The sun hasn't started rising yet, the night as dark as it gets, the cold seeping into our bones.

He holds my hand like he's afraid he'd float away if he didn't.

I know I'd be glad if it happened.

I have a lot of fandom resolutions for this year and I'm scared they'll end up like any New Year's resolutions... but I'll list them anyway. 6 resolutions Sunday:

Be more involved on Tumblr. I want to post more, but especially start reblogging and commenting on things again.

Write more. Last year I wrote so little and posted even less, and it made me sad when I realised it in the past days. So much was going on, so I don't blame myself, but I miss writing and I believe I can try to make it a regular thing again.

I want to read more fics. It's been years since I last read fics consistently. I missed everything!! Time to slowly catch up.

Relatedly, I want to try to comment more. I've never been a great commenter because it overwhelms me, but it's hypocritical since I need everyone and their brother to leave 10 paragraph long comments on everything I write... So I want to commit to doing better.

I want to try to publish a fic every month, at least. @palimpsessed suggested doing some sort of monthly countdown to Carry On's birthday in October and I'm all in.

I want to succeed at COBB. For one reason or the other, more often than not because I am cursed and I never finished writing my things, I've never managed to start and finish posting something for COBB. But I have two concepts I'm so excited about (not sure yet if I'll try both of them) and I want to commit to doing well. Wish me good luck.

My good old tagging list <3 I hope to add new people soon! But hi my dear old friends, how's it going?

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @noblecorgi @j-nipper-95

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 15

It's here!!! Finally, I am able to finish it! This chapter is a lil messy, I'll admit, and ended up twice as long as intended, but I'm hoping it'll be a good set up for the next chapter, which will feature a lot more Dracula :3 I am posting this a bit sleep deprived, so I apologize if it has several mistakes ;w;

Thank you for waiting, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Turns out going home had consequences worse than you had anticipated. With time ticking by, and tensions beginning to boil with your step family, you decide to make several impulsive decisions in hopes of working on your deal with Dracula, or at least having something to show for it. Of course, nothing can go right, especially with Death tailing you, now can it?

CW: Physical and verbal abuse mentioned (You are mostly fine, no worries), extreme anxiety and second thoughts, slight face injury (just a bruise), impulsive shopping, mental rambling and overthinking, Death makes an appearance

Word Count: 6575 words!

Tag List: @just-some-water-lillies @blackmeetsworld @khaleesihavilliard @sisterofsin29 @str4wban3l @nikkilovemark @ms-bakugo-blog @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

If you want to be added, or if I missed someone, please let me know! Likes, reblogs, tags and comments are appreciate 💕

First: Here

Last: Here

Next: ?

---

Looking in the mirror shouldn’t have been as harrowing as it felt at the moment.

If you were being honest with yourself, you could care less about appearances. You liked looking nice and all, but you didn’t always have the luxury of looking nice on a hunt when it involved… monster remains ending up splattered all over you.

That… and as you were growing older, you looked a lot more like your mother.

Not just in looks, but…

You hated how your eyes looked so sunken in. How there was an unnatural paleness to you. Like you were ill.

It certainly made you feel sick. You hated being reminded how your mother looked that last year before she passed.

Of course, it didn’t help that you had a massive bruise on your left cheek. Or how you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in… what, weeks? More so than normal anyway.

That, and you genuinely haven’t felt well since you came back home around 3 weeks ago.

“Ugh….” You groaned out, leaning closer to the mirror as your head throbbed.

At least you weren’t beaten bloody and bruised like you had been before… everything.

It had nearly been a month since you returned. As much as you would have liked to believe things would have gotten better after coming back home, that was nothing more than a pipe dream.

“Just who do you think you are, huh? Who the hell lets you stay here? Do you think it’s funny to pull that kinda shit? Huh?”

Jason hadn’t been happy at your return. Though you had a feeling he was more mad about you staying away and still being alive.

“Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, you dense fuck. I let you stay here out of the goodness of my heart, and you not only attack us, but pull a disappearing act?”

Eyes narrowing at yourself in the mirror, your reflection scowled with you as you remembered parts of Jason’s explosive reaction to you coming home that day.

Your step brothers and step father had been doing something involving recon for a mission of some sort. So they said, anyway. Not that they gave you much of an explanation anytime they left anywhere, unless it was somewhere fun.

Then they were more than happy to brag about going somewhere, and you weren’t invited.

Regardless, you didn’t hear much about where they were, but you got to hear all about how bad of a person you were for leaving like that. For having the gall to defend yourself.

The reflection of you in the mirror scowled even further, before wincing when you felt a twinge of pain from the bruise on your face.

Annoyance flickered on your features.

After you came home and were discovered by your family, the ‘scolding’ had certainly been one of the worst, but you would argue that wasn’t the worst part of coming back.

”I’ll have you know I could kick you out at any time. You are nothing but a freak. A parasite. At least your mother was worth something compared to you. All you do is sit around and do nothing, wasting our time and resources!”

Jason and your brothers had never been physically violent before. At least, not outside ‘training’, anyway.

Sure, there was the occasional shove, and a shoulder check here and there. Maybe a loose foot finding its way in front of your own…

Jason was practically in your face as he yelled, your back pressed against the wall as he practically cornered you.

“All you do is sit on your ass and run off to god knows where after throwing a fit. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t toss your shit into the streets right now!?”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he interrupted you.

“Shut up!”

Your eyes widened as a fist came at you-

…Only for your body to tense with one of your hands in front of your face as his fist landed a few inches from your head, now in a huge hole in the wall next to where you stood. No doubt you would be fixing that later.

Jason’s face was right next to yours, his eyes dark with a hatred that had your body tense, and your hair stand on end.

“Get out of my sight.”

Ever since that first night back, Jason had gotten scarily close to genuinely hurting you. He, and his oldest son, Mark, had grown increasingly aggressive.

It frightened you. Never had they seemed so irritated.

That was saying a lot, if you were being honest with yourself.

Sure, you feared what they could do to you, to your home. It was a small fear, one you kept a tight lock on. You hadn’t really felt scared of them. Not before they tried to lethally injure you.

Now you felt like a cornered animal half the time, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It felt like it was only a matter of time before things escalated. If something happened to you… You didn’t like to think what would happen afterwards.

The look in their eyes… You couldn’t help but compare it to a monster who was out for blood. A pure hate that made you feel ill just looking at them.

And with their aggression growing… it was looking more and more likely you faced something terrible happening with each passing day.

Not even a week had passed after Jason’s episode before you were shoved down the stairs. You thankfully had caught yourself, but instead of an empty hall at the top of the stairs like you expected, Mark stood watching.

His eyes were just as cold as his father’s. That same, piercing hate deep in his eyes.

“No one wants you here.” Was all he said, before he turned around and left, leaving you awkwardly hanging onto one of the rails.

Since then, Jason and Mark had made a point to let their displeasure known. You were either tossed around, or forced to do extra dirty work around the house. Jason made a point to tell you that he expected ‘more’ from you from now on.

Ignoring the fact you already did most of the house work anyway. Fucker.

Now they both made messes on purpose. Well, more ‘on purpose’ than before.

Kitchen? A wreck almost every night.

Living room? You were now picking up their disgusting clothes and messes.

Entry way? You were cleaning mud that was tracked in every other day. It wasn’t even muddy out front, so you knew they were doing this on purpose elsewhere to piss you off.

At least Seth kept his distance. He wasn’t pleasant, but he at least seemed to dislike outright trying to hurt you more than a shoulder check. If anything, he just told you to clean something or go shopping at inconvenient times.

Maybe toss something on the floor for you to clean up, but even he seemed to find that more bothersome than it was worth.

It still wasn’t great, but it only added to your ever growing stress.

“Things could be worse… I guess.” You mumbled, exhaustion clear on your features as your frown fell back to your neutral look.

You could have Dracula trying to kill you, along with everything else. No doubt that would have possibly either broke you, or had made everything worse. Your face scrunched up at the thought.

Though you winced once again, the bruise near your eye throbbing at the movement.

Jason and the others may not have outright been hitting you with their fists since you got back, but…

Letting out a gasp of surprise at the sudden sharp pain, you felt your body slam into the wall next to you as your body swung back in surprise.

“Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Mark mocked, throwing the bag he had ‘accidentally’ hit you with over his shoulder.

Motherfucker had waited around a corner just to swing a bag of junk at your head. You were lucky it didn’t directly hit your eyes, but…

You could feel your anger bubbling in your chest, and you sighed. At least you still had your sight, even if you worried the cheekbone had been damaged.

Whatever.

Turning the faucet on, you splashed some water on your face, waking you up a little bit as you trekked back to your room

Truth be told, it wasn’t just your step family causing you issues.

You had been spending what free time and energy you had on working on your deal with Dracula.

Something that still was weird to think about.

Entering your room and closing the door behind you with a soft ‘click’, you went over to your desk and sat down. Reaching down to the floor, you pulled out a specific notebook you had hidden under a bunch of random clothes and junk, and opened it.

Inside the notebook was what would be a bunch of gibberish, but was simply a cypher.

You didn’t dare write anything about Dracula somewhere where your step family could find it and read it. A phone was hackable, and just leaving a notebook around without precautions was begging for fate to mess with you and make things worse.

Flipping through the pages, you found your simple ‘To-Do List’.

It was messy, but when you came back home a near wreck, it was as good a place as any to start.

There were several different things written down, such as buying him a modern cell phone. Or building him a computer. Or even showing him some modern libraries.

You hoped he would at least be impressed by the internet, and the many archives it included. Though you were a bit nervous about the internet as well, not really wanting him to see how depraved humanity could be, where it was right out in the open.

Then again… the internet had a front row view on the good things humanity has done too. That, and it’s not like Dracula was unaware of how awful people could be, human or otherwise.

Perhaps you would only show him the internet archive or something. And how to pirate movies and books.

Movies and television were a whole different ball game as well on what to show him. You wondered if he’d like The Addams Family, or The Godfather. Or Psych, or Columbo or something.

Shaking your head, you wrote down a few suggestions to show him later. After you managed to figure out if you could even get internet working at his castle, of course.

You’d have to make a few calls to some people who knew how to keep their mouths shut, no doubt.

Even then, he may not even want it. That was something you had to consider.

“Though, perhaps…” you mumbled out loud as a thought entered your mind.

Perhaps you could just show him all that stuff at your cabin? Test the waters?

A part of you nearly snarled at the idea of anyone finding your humble sanctuary, let alone being allowed in it that wasn’t your late mother.

But you had way more at stake here. You had a deal to hold your end up on. Surely, your little abode was worth the entirety of humanity?

…You would consider it.

Then there was the fact you would probably have to get a phone or internet plan for Dracula.

Good god you had a lot on your plate.

That isn’t even mentioning the calls you had been attempting to make for blood banks for supernatural entities. With how busy they tended to be though, you ended up on hold nearly every attempt you made. No doubt you would have to send some emails and make an in person visit.

Great.

Staring at the list for another few moments, you sighed, putting the book down and putting your head in your hands.

“Fuck, how am I going to do this?”

The hope of the world was quite literally on your shoulders, all depending on your actions going forward. Yet, you had little to nothing to go forward with.

Not like you could just order a phone or computer parts. Even if it was illegal, your mail and packages ended up getting opened more often than not before you had a chance to even see them.

Jason would always smugly remark it was for ‘the family’s safety’, in case someone was trying to ‘get rid of the family.’

That was a load of shit, of course.

You knew it, Jason knew it, Mark and Seth knew it.

But there was nothing you could do. Even if you had a legal case of them fucking with your mail, if you made a fuss, you simply would get kicked out and lose your family home.

At least they stopped messing with your packages half of the time when you bought adult toys to embarrass them out of spite.

That was the first time they ever left you alone for a month. Definitely some of the most peaceful weeks of your life.

Anyway-

Rubbing your face, you gave your cheeks a small slap to wake yourself up, and sat back up in your chair.

Picking the book back up, you looked over it all once again, before adjusting some of your notes.

You would have to go buy a lot of this stuff in person yourself, and hide it in your car. Buying a new phone and computer parts would only make your step family incredibly suspicious.

Or annoying.

In fact, if you did manage to spin a perfect lie to get them off your back, you wouldn’t be surprised if your parts either went ‘missing’, or ended up ‘accidentally’ damaged.

Or someone in the family suspiciously gets a new PC while the parts you bought are missing.

Even though you had money in your own bank account, it wasn’t like you were rich. You had expected a lot of your family’s money to go to you before… well…

Not that it mattered.

You still had a means of making money from odd jobs and the hunts you were allowed to do before your step family called dibs, or when they didn’t want to do the icky jobs.

It just… wasn’t as much as you would like. But hey, you didn’t have the luxury of lamenting your expenses now. Lives were potentially at stake if you didn’t do this.

“So much for buying some new clothes… guess I’ll have to patch up some of my torn ones with some older clothe if I can…”

Oh well.

Another thing that was an issue was time.

You had more or less been on lockdown since coming back. Sure, you had a job or two for some minor stuff, but then you were stuck right back here.

With Jason and Mark, and Seth to a degree, being a lot more aggressive… You’ve hardly had a chance to even leave the house for something as small as grocery shopping without Jason getting on your ass about it.

He must have been serious when he got angry at you for disappearing. You still didn’t understand why, given how they talk about wanting you gone so much. Maybe they just hated the fact you would eventually come back.

Bah.

Scratching your head, you let out another sigh.

You were running out of time.

Dracula may have been patient so far, at least you hoped. However, that didn’t mean he would wait forever, especially when you mentioned a month as the time it may take to return.

Around a week remained, and the clock was ticking. Time was not on your side.

Neither was anything else, but if anything, you knew how to adapt under pressure.

“Okay… Everyone is out today. I can at least get a phone. Maybe even a few parts for a computer…”

There were a few places in town for parts. You had at least done research on places where you could buy these things earlier this month in a manic episode.

After that, you had to figure out a time to leave again for a few days. No doubt you’d get shit for it, but hey, at least you weren’t actively bleeding this time.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” You mumbled to yourself, running a hand over your eyes with a groan. Even if you felt like you were a bag full of anxiety, you could at least try to hype yourself up.

With a deep breath, you closed the journal, and hid it once more.

Steeling your resolve, you stood up and grabbed your car keys, before heading out your bedroom door.

Leaving your home wasn’t hard, but it still sent some anxiety spiking through your heart as you locked the door behind you. Nor was driving down to town any less harrowing.

However, driving up to the giant building of a tech store at least put you at ease. As much as you hated crowds, it was somewhat relieving here.

If you by some rare chance saw your family or someone you knew, you’d at least have a crowd. You were less likely to be treated poorly in front of people who your family tried so dearly to put a mask on for.

Of course, you still were on edge. It was hard not to be in general outside of your cabin or family home. Your whip felt heavy under your jacket as you parked and walked through the building, both a reassurance, and a weight that had your hands twitching.

Crowds may be good in some ways, but for monsters, both man and supernatural, it was an opportunity.

You just hope no one would seek such an opportunity today.

Pushing through the turbulent emotions stirring inside you, you quickly made your way to the center of the store.

It wasn’t hard to buy a phone, though you did have a few things to consider.

Size, model, and brand.

The decision wasn’t difficult in the long run, but the image of Dracula with glasses and a teeny phone in his massive hands made a smile form on your face.

With the new phone in a bag to take home for later, you continued shopping. At least getting a phone was the easy part. You could buy a temporary cheap plan and number for it in store at checkout.

Somehow Dracula’s castle had cell service, if you remembered correctly. If the phone plan didn’t work out, you could at least show him some things, right?

It was enough to tide you over until you could make some calls about giving Dracula of all people an actual decent phone plan without all the strings of an identity in modern society. That was something that actually wouldn’t be too difficult. You hoped.

Regardless, it was computer parts that had you dreading being here.

There were different parts and different brands to consider, and in the end, Dracula might not even care about it.

You at least hoped he would like the parts to look at if he was uninterested in having a computer. At the end of the day, you could just use your laptop to show him things if need be.

At the very least, you knew Dracula liked to make things, if your family’s old journals were anything to go by. You liked to think he’d like to tinker with the parts for his own gain.

“What a headache… Could be wasting time and money for nothing…”

Maybe you should only grab a few things? And then if he isn’t interested, you could just give the parts to him to study?

You shook your head to yourself as you entered an aisle with a few of the parts you needed behind a wall of glass, and eyed your options.

Perhaps you should start with a cpu? Or perhaps some memory? Or rather-

“You sure like to take your time, Belmont.”

In an instant, the temperature of the building dropped severely, and you felt your hair stand on end.

Faster than a human could blink, you had your whip in your hand, and faced your adversary-

Only to freeze when you saw Death hovering next to you, uncomfortably close.

You blinked, and hesitantly lowered your whip.

“Um… hi?”

The skeletal cloaked figure tilted its head, its boney fingers thrumming on the handle of its scythe. All the while, your head was swimming as you tried not to panic.

Dracula may have been your family’s primary enemy, but Death, the entity, was never far behind.

“Hmm… You are certainly different from most of your kin before you.”

You decided to take that as a compliment.

Forcing your anxiety back down your throat, you managed to speak once more.

“Um… No offense, but why are you here? Is everything alright?” You asked hesitantly, yet tried to remain polite. Hold back any fear and aggression. You could do this.

Death was severely hated in your family, if a few journals were anything to go by. It wouldn’t hurt to remain courteous. At least you hoped.

You no longer were in Dracula’s castle, after all. Who’s to say Death might try and find a loophole and kill you here outside your family home and his master’s abode? Be done with this stupid peace treaty of sorts you had convinced the Lord of Darkness to try out?

Even then, you imagine he could probably get away with it, being Dracula’s second in command. In Death’s eyes, in the end, would it really be so bad if the Belmont dies? Get you out of the way?

It was Death after all. Even if the entity was punished, what was Dracula gonna do? Kill him?

You tried not to let those thoughts fester as the cold, blue fires in Death’s eye sockets bore into you.

It took a lot not to shudder in fear.

Death though, seemed not to notice, or care if you felt intimidated or not.

“I am here to see if you intend to return to my master, or if you are simply hiding away like a dog with its tail between its legs.”

That last bit alone caused you to scowl, and you had to stomp down the irritation that threatened to bubble in your gut.

“First of all, rude. Second of all, yes, I do intend to return. That's why I am out today, actually.”

You gestured with a nod of your head to the locked display that was in front of you, and Death’s ghostly eyes followed.

“I figured as a gift of good will, I could get some modern stuff for him here. I know you probably have a distaste for humans, but I can promise you and Dracula himself that the technological advancements made by them in today’s modern age may come across as intriguing.”

Wincing a bit at how that sounded, you rubbed your neck and ignored the twinge of pain.

“Not to sound vain about it, of course. Humanity has really flourished the past century or so with all sorts of advancements. Not just technology. I figured your Master would be interested, at least in a few areas to see if humanity’s advancements have reached his own.”

Death let out what you assumed was a hum, and just as you were about to turn and ask what the deity thought, a voice nearly had you jumping out of your boots.

“Hi there, can I help you?”

Spinning around, you nearly relaxed when you saw it was someone who worked here, though you quickly stammered.

“O-Oh, I uh-”

You spun around, panic running through your veins. You did not need regular people freaking out over Death itself being in a tech store-

Only to find no one there. Death was gone.

The room seemed to warm up again, almost to the point it was uncomfortably hot. Had Death’s presence really sapped that much heat from you and everything around you?

Swallowing your nerves, you spun back around to speak to the person who asked if you needed help. It wasn’t hard to put a mask back in place on your face, though you swore your heart never stopped hammering in your chest as you pointed out a few items you were considering.

That, and you tried to ignore how the employee eyed you, almost concerned.

Right. Bruise on your face. Skittish reactions. Great.

At least they seemed happy to unlock the glass display for you, asking you something about if you were building a computer. You could only mumble a response with a shaky smile, throwing out some explanation or another.

In truth, you could barely think as they brought the few items you had pointed to towards a register. How could you act at ease, knowing Death could quite literally be around any corner, watching you?

Could you even go home? It’s not like it would be hard to find your place of residence in this day and age, but you wondered if Death knew how to do so by regular means.

Which made the idea of going home and being followed… nerve wracking.

Sure, your place was warded to hell and back with ancient spells and hunting artifacts so no evil could step foot on your property, but…

That didn’t mean you were safe the moment you took a step outside, and you didn’t exactly like the idea of being shot at by a gun or a bow or something while taking out the trash, thank you very much.

Even then… were you comfortable with Dracula even knowing your home address in general?

You were in a fog of your own thoughts as you paid for the equipment you bought, only briefly being brought out of it when you noticed the price after everything was scanned.

No doubt you’d be feeling the loss of money in your bank account later. Ouch.

Thankfully, it was also easy to get a quick plan for the phone you bought as well, along with a phone number. Nothing fancy or long lasting, of course. No need to if Dracula was uninterested, or if was genuinely interested to the point of needing a decent one.

As the nice employee set it up, a part of you hoped this would help you and Dracula have a means of communication.

After all, you doubted the post office would deliver a letter to a giant castle in the middle of fuck all nowhere.

When they handed you the phone and receipt, you gave the employee a tired smile, before gathering your things and walking out the door.

The whole way to your car, you were looking back behind you, still wary of being watched. You hated this.

It was one thing to be followed by some asshole or a monster with a bone to pick, but Death itself?

Hopefully you wouldn’t be laughed at if you puked from how nervous you were.

After setting your stuff in your car and climbing in behind the wheel, you sat there for a moment as your engine roared to life.

It seems despite your warning that you’d need a month, it seems at three weeks you didn’t have any time left to spare if Death was making in person inquiries.

Gripping the steering wheel, you glanced up at the rearview mirror, and your neck cracked from how fast you turned to look back at it after looking away.

In it was Death, floating ominously, near empty eye sockets looking at you from behind your vehicle.

You turned around quickly, and no one was there.

Eyes narrowing, you looked back, and nothing was in your back seat. Nothing behind your car. Nothing in the area besides you.

“Oh, very funny. Didn’t you ever learn not to scare a hunter? Especially one who can actually cause harm? Not everyone’s fight or flight is flight you know.” You snarked out under your breath.

A part of you wondered if Death found this hilarious or not, scaring you. Did the being not have a care about scaring someone who could actually kill them?

Then again… if you were ‘alive’ for thousands of years, you wondered if you too would stop giving a shit and started doing dumb stuff like that for fun.

That, or Death was purposely trying to push your buttons so he could have an excuse to tattle to Dracula you ‘attacked first’. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

Shaking your head, you looked around your car one last time, hoping you weren’t going crazy, before focusing on heading home.

You’d give Death some credit, at least.

Scaring you like that helped jump start something in your brain where you no longer felt frozen in place. Even if Death damn near gave you a heart attack in the process.

The drive home was uneventful, but you felt as if your heart rate never truly rested after your mini adventure out shopping.

How could it? How on earth do you handle such circumstances? It was like trying to swallow claws as your anxiety tried climbing its way up your throat.

“You know, I can’t help but feel my life would be a lot simpler if I was born in a different family…” you mumbled, face scrunching up.

Maybe you’d be bumbling around in college by now, meeting some guy or girl who caught your fancy. Worrying about exams and dates, not whether or not offending one man could kill you and the entirety of the human race.

Whatever. No point mourning something you never had, right?

Your thoughts were a messy buzz as you pulled up onto your property, though it probably could be seen as humorous how quickly those thoughts came to a stop.

Slumping into your seat, you felt a new kind of anxiety and irritation bubble up in your chest.

“Oh, you are fucking kidding me.” You groaned out, spotting familiar vehicles in the driveway up to your house.

Why were they back so soon? Why?

At this point, your luck was a sick joke, you think. That, or just your life in general.

It looked as if everyone was back home, earlier than they should be, you might add.

Internally, you debated your options.

One, you could go in and get yelled at for disappearing without ‘a good reason’, eventually having to give some excuse as to why you were gone.

Or two…

Your pulse picked up as you thought about it. You weren’t exactly planning on leaving for Dracula’s castle today… But…

Strumming your fingers against your steering wheel, you bit your lip as you weighed the pros and cons.

On one hand, going today might get Death off your back. Though you hoped that at least seeing you shopping might have helped.

On the other hand…

You’d have to meet Dracula again, for the first time after being so injured… And no doubt you’d later have to deal with Jason and the others getting pissed at you again.

Then again… that was just normal at this point, just extra aggression. Maybe you should get out for a bit?

After all… You hated to admit how you were growing concerned with how more… open they were getting with their ‘grievances’. How long would it be before you were one wrong fall down the stairs, or turning a corner too quick?

Your face throbbed at the memory. The bruise on your face was just from a bag of junk. How long until it was a convenient bag of bricks being tossed instead?

Plus… You needed a break, you just worried about the repercussions. But…

You were tired. So so so tired.

There was an exhaustion that was deep in your bones.

Your head constantly ached, even more so after the bruise. You were always exhausted like you were on hunts often, no doubt from your lack of sleep.

And you constantly felt off while here, which you chalked up to always being on edge.

No doubt having to watch your back like prey in your own home for weeks on end was taking its toll with how you were constantly bouncing between feeling exhaustion and feeling sick.

You may be a Belmont, but the human body could only take so much stress before it began shutting down. Even you had your limits.

“Am I actually considering this…?” you mumbled, your brain in a fog as you tried to come to a decision.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything at the cabin, either… You had a few clothes there, and some non-perishable food….

With a groan, you put your head in your hands, and ran them down your face. You winced as your face ached at the action.

It was then like a switch was flipped, feeling the bruise again. You didn’t feel like dealing with this shit, and possibly having another incident while already injured.

At least… Dracula wouldn’t attack you. Hopefully. You could heal. Maybe.

Not that you expected him to take care of you while you were there. You could do that yourself.

…It just would be nice to be in a place where you could.

Hah… How many times was it going to be a shock for you each time Dracula, your family’s enemy, was the safer option?

With a sigh, you cracked your neck, and steeled yourself.

Looks like it was time to pay Dracula another visit.

—

The drive wasn’t as long as you expected.

Perhaps it was the good music that happened to be playing, or maybe it was your nerves. Who’s to say.

Pulling into the small dirt road leading up to your small cabin though had you rightfully nervous.

Was it safe? Did any monsters wander from Dracula’s castle and ransack your home?

Eyes naturally narrowing in suspicion as your vehicle came to a stop, you couldn’t help but start to think about it.

Technically speaking… You never said Dracula or his minions couldn’t destroy shit. Just to leave humans alone, for the most part. At least, what your working ‘treaty’ was. Perhaps you should discuss and iron out the details while you were here…

Should you have made a contract? Did supernatural beings such as Dracula even have to honor those?

Not like you could hire a lawyer to draft a contract for Dracula anyways… Not enough ones in the supernatural communities, let alone one that would involve themselves with Dracula without fearing for their lives.

No doubt there would be a few conflicts of interest, and you couldn’t just hire a human one anyway…

Blinking, you shook your head, before doing a quick glance over your property.

“C’mon… Don’t get distracted now.” You mumbled, climbing out of your car.

You did a quick look over the immediate property around the cabin, checking to see if anything had changed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Even the inside of your small sanctuary had remained seemingly untouched.

Was it a miracle, or had Dracula purposely mentioned not to have this place harmed?

Or maybe he didn’t say anything at all? Did he even know this place existed, besides what you had mentioned? Did he keep his mouth shut to avoid anyone going looking to begin with?

After all, you had mentioned having property nearby, right? You couldn’t exactly remember…

Question after question filtered through your mind, and you groaned. You’d get nowhere if you just sat here and made guesses.

The only way to get answers and move forward, would be to actually visit the vampire.

So why did you want to put it off now?

Your nerves were like electricity in your gut, and you could only wring your hands together as you stood stuck in the small living room. It was almost like you were paralyzed, unable to do anything besides take a few steps here or there while your brain went haywire.

It wasn’t like you could go back. Jason would give you too much shit for it, and Mark and Seth would follow his lead.

Jason was a ticking time bomb at this point, you feared. You could defend yourself and all, but at what point was it too much?

With a groan, you ran a hand through your hair.

“God… I feel like a deer in headlights…”

Taking a breath, you tried to calm yourself down. Why was this so hard? Just go to the castle, and talk with him, and offer some of the stuff you had. At least you could offer the phone and bring the computer stuff later…

After a few more moments of heavy debate inside your mind, you came to a decision, before swiftly turning around and heading to the bedroom.

You’d… visit Dracula tomorrow.

Was it an excuse to wait? Yes.

However, you figured you’d be in a much better mindset after getting some rest after being away from your family home. You just hoped Dracula wouldn’t mind waiting one more day, even if you technically hadn’t even hit the deadline you set yet…

You could rest, eat, shower, and mentally prepare yourself the next day. Maybe you would look less pathetic for Dracula at least, compared to last time, and how you currently felt.

Although, you’d admit, you were a bit uneasy sleeping so close to the castle.

It was silly, really. You literally had slept inside said castle. By all means, you were in the snake pit while critically injured. Yet…

You felt safer there than here. Something you never thought you would ever think about your little sanctuary.

Here, you didn’t have Dracula’s direct protection.

Just how easy would it be for something to attack you if a monster sensed you? All it took was one disgruntled monster to figure out you were here…

By all means, it could even be spun that it wasn’t even one of Dracula’s minions, since it would be outside his castle. It was a grey area if the monsters outside the castle walls were under his direct control, you felt.

It wasn’t even your own safety you were mostly worried about.

Was it selfish or odd to be more worried about the cabin and the land? It was one of the last things you had of your mom untainted…

Well, if anything else, you’d destroy anything that tried to destroy this place.

That was your thought as you climbed in bed that night, trying to ease your nerves for tomorrow.

…Which is why when several flashes of lightning and thunder happened one right after the other, you nearly fell out of your bed.

Rain began to pelt your window hard, and the wind picked up a bit. You could even hear the trees shake outside from the weather as some branches brushed against your cabin’s roof.

“Was that from…?”

Dracula’s castle wasn’t far, not at all. A small walk away around a lake. It sounded as if everything was coming from the direction of his castle.

After a moment of listening to some more rolling thunder, you decided to close your curtains, and try to relax to the sound of the storm. If what you suspected was true, and Dracula was annoyed or upset… you didn’t exactly want to intrude and possibly worsen his mood.

As you warily drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder just what had made Dracula so upset.