#but have a word with your fucking police because they don't seem to understand

[tuttle-did-it]

First of all, Scotland, for passing the Scottish Hate Crime Act and trying to protect trans people, thank you. Thank you for treating us as humans, thank you for recognising our identities.

However....

fuck you JK Rowling. fuck your TERF rants that endanger our lives. fuck your Nazi attitudes.

fuck you Police Scotland for proving that you're fucks and will not take this law seriously, even when someone intentionally, repeatedly, maliciously and gleefully breaks this law in a very, very public forum.

fuck you Police Scotland for not only refusing to take action when someone is breaking this law intentionally, repeatedly, maliciously and gleefully, but also proving that 1) this new law will NOT be taken seriously by you 2) this tells every TERF and Tory out there that the law is NOT valid, and that the law does NOT include queer people, specifically in this case Trans people; and 3) this tells every queer/Trans/enby/multi-sex/hermaphrodite person that we are NOT actually protected as this new law promises, and you can and will continue abusing us and destroying our lives. Fucking thanks. Cos it wasn't obvious enough that every day gets more and more dangerous for us trans/enby people, so thanks for just making it clear to the fucking world that even when someone mocks this law openly, you don't fucking care because we are not fucking people. Got it. So fuck you Police Scotland, specifically, for doing NOTHING when someone blatantly flouts this law. Fuck every one of you ACAB fuckers.

fuck everyone who still works with you, Rowling and still even speaks to you after knowing what you are.

fuck everyone who still buys anything related to the Harry Potter franchise knowing the money is going into the pocket of someone like this. Because she sends that money back out to fucking Anti-Trans orgs that hurt us.

fuck you HP fans who plan to watch her new tv show. You cannot be a fan of a massive transphobe trying to destroy us, and an ally at the same time. so fuck you.

fuck harry potter fans who wear HP merchandise stuff knowing what she has said and done, yes I don't care if you bought it before she said it, fuck you because you know exactly what she represents. Not apologising. Yeah, I'm totally judging you if you're wearing HP merch, even if especially if you're queer. I don't care how much HP meant to you as a child. I don't care about fucking nostalgia. I care about the Trans lives that are in danger every day because of monsters like this fucking woman.

fuck you Rishi Sunak for backing and legitimising this horrible woman and her bigotry.

fuck you British politics, fuck you Tories. Fuck you all for destroying this country and making every day more dangerous for Queer people.

fuck you CEO David Zaslav. fuck you Warner Bros. for being willing and happy to work with this fucking woman for her fucking franchise so she can continue to fucking make millions and fucking fund anti-trans orgs.

fuck every single one of who who protects, excuses and funds this fucking behaviour. And fuck every one of you who doesn't give a fuck at everything that is happening.

fuck these fucking fucks. fuck you TERFs and transphobes and fuck every single one of you fucking fucks.

Thank you for trying, Scotland. Thank you.

But please explain to the fucking POLICE and the fucking evil POLITICIANS that this new law means we are legally recognised as protected under the Scottish Hate Crime Act, so they all need to stop fucking about and treat it seriously.

and the fucking PRIME FUCKING MINISTER fucking backing this fucking TERF. I'm not surprised, just angry.

This is on you. so, fuck you if you are supporting these fuckery fucking fucks.

As is EVERY SINGLE FUCKING INCIDENT a trans person has in this fucking country. Every time someone fucking deadnames us, every time someone intentionally misgenders us, every time someone threatens our safety, every time someone fucking assaults us? every single incident is on your fucking head, you fucking fucks.

[velvetvexations]

Antigonism

ANTIGONE: I'll do my duty to my brother - and yours as well, if you're not prepared to. I won't be caught betraying him.

What is antigonism?

Antigonism is a transfeminist mode of thought specifically for transfems that embrace solidarity with other trans people, as well as those who are intersex and the queer community in general, under the belief that it's vital to recognize we're all equally oppressed and capable of doing lateral harm to one another

Beliefs of antigonistic transfems include but are not limited to:

accepting that transandrophobia exists

being mindful of exorsexism

not policing the terms that intersex people use for themselves

awareness that other AMAB people can present as feminine without being some kinna insult to us

recognizing that racial hegemony and the cishetpatriarchy are radically different systems of oppression and any comparison between the two, while possible, must be made with exceptional care

rejecting the "reclamation" of radical feminism

finding it appalling to demand that other trans people define themselves as privileged for not experiencing the same things as us - especially when they do in fact experience much of what is commonly, inexplicably cited as unique to transfems.

Isn't that just trans unity?

Trans unity is also great! But I feel like transfems who explicitly reject trans radical feminism could do with a word that is more forceful and specific. Some would prefer that this just be considered the default, and the vocal minority of people who think transfems are oppressed by other trans people should simply be treated as weirdos out of step with the rest of us, but I think there's value in making a strong statement with a term like this.

I've seen a lot of people who legitimately feel like shit because the vocal minority has been so loudly terrible that it's affecting how comfortable they are with random transfems whose opinions they don't know. I understand the temptation to just say they need to touch grass or whatever, but even aside from the fact that things like anti-transmasculinity within the community isn't purely limited to discourse on a dying social media website, I feel like that's blaming them for their reaction to being treated cruelly. I think antigonism could help drill in that there are tons of transfems who back them up, and that they don't need to search for keywords to know that person is safe.

Because, like, that happens to me, too. So many times I've seen a post I really liked and thought was insightful, only to have my distrustful nature lead me to doing such a search before reblogging and being gravely disappointed with the results. That fucking sucks, yall.

Why "antigonism"?

In the legends of Ancient Greece, Oedipus had two sons. One of them, Polynices, would eventually go on to wage war upon his brother, Eteocles, the king of Thebes. There were many telling of the story, some in which Polynices had a very good reason for doing so and some where he didn't.

Polynices and Eteocles both killed each other in the war, but Creon, who took power after, unilaterally declared that Polynices was a traitor. Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, however, simply does not give a fuck what Polynices did or did not do. When Creon orders that any who try to bury Polynices will be put to death, she proudly does so anyway.

The most famous teller of Oedipus's family history, Sophocles, wrote a play about the war, but it's lost to time and so we know nothing definite about what version of events is canon to Sophocles' play starring the titular Antigone. Considering that the whole point of Creon's character is his dogmatic clinging to law over sense, his assessment of Polynices as being in the wrong for going against authority doesn't clear things up.

I emphasize this because I don't want to seem like I'm framing other trans people - transmascs especially - as requiring forgiveness for some vague past sin. Quite the opposite, just as they treat us as their sisters in spite of that minority of transfems who are awful to them, we must recognize that they're often the first to shut down transmisogynists amongst themselves. Ultimately the point of Antigone's actions in defying the law to honor her brother is that things like that are entirely irrelevant. The fact that the person accusing Polynices of being evil is a jackass, and we know there were versions of the story where Eteocles had it coming, is even more reason to look past his "crime."

ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: I had forbidden it. ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: Polynices was a rebel and a traitor, and you know it. ANTIGONE: He was my brother.

Does that mean we should not call out other trans people who are transmisogynistic or otherwise treat trans women badly? Of course not. But we have no more right to abandon or spit on them than they do us, which so many of them refuse to do in spite of the hostility they've often faced. To be an antigonist is to believe that we can do no less for those who do so much for us, and the creation of the term is intended not to spur more to do that so much as to give a name to those who've already been doing that.

Finally, I understand that the plot of Antigone revolving around Polynice's burial might feel grim. Critically, however, Antigone ultimately dies as well.

ISMENE: I must yield to those in authority. I think it is dangerous business to be always meddling. ANTIGONE: You have made your choice, you can be what you want to be. But I will bury him, and if I must die, I say that this crime is holy. I shall lie down with him in death, and I shall be as dear to him as he to me.

We are oppressed by the same forces. We are allies in the same fight. We are friends, lovers, and family. An antigonist is a transfem who believes that all trans people will live together and die together. We are committed to sharing the same fate with our siblings, one way or another. Antigonists see us all as bound together, headed for the same destination, and we would not for a second ever want it to be otherwise no matter where that road leads.

One more thing!

Even if this terminology doesn't catch on, I hope this effort means something to anyone who sees this. <3 Your sisters do love you, I promise.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bad Day at Black Rock | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: panic attack/PTSD, recovering from a sexual assault (HEED THESE WARNINGS ESPECIALLY FOR THIS CHAPTER), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6673

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“What?!” you exclaimed. “She’s a demon, and you didn’t gank her?!”

Sam had just finished telling you and Dean about this Ruby girl he’d met. 

“No, (Y/N), I mean, she seemed pretty helpful on the Seven Deadlies case.”

“Wait, she’s the blonde chick?!” you realized. “Why the fuck would a demon help me?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “That’s what I’m trying to understand, too. And if she helped us then, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have at least listened to what she had to say.”

“Because ‘demon,’ that's why,” Dean snapped angrily. “I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water! You don't chat!”

“No one was chatting, Dean,” Sam huffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?”

“Because she said she might be able to help us out!”

“With what, though, Sam,” you chimed in. “You’ve never said how she’s supposed to be able to help us. Or with what.”

“She told me she could help Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean seemed to not understand.

“With the crossroads deal, I’m assuming,” you told him.

Sam nodded.

The older brother looked at Sam incredulously. “What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is; it's me.” Dean paused for a second. “What else did she say?”

Sam was quiet again.

You and Dean leaned in expectantly. “Dude?” the older brother questioned.

“Nothing. Nothing, Okay?!” Sam snapped. “Look, I'm not an idiot, guys. I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are; we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it.”

“You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed. “Yes I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?”

You looked between the two brothers when a phone began ringing. You checked your pockets; no buzzing. Sam and Dean’s phones weren’t ringing either. 

“Check the glove box, it's Dad's,” Dean suddenly realized.

“Dad’s?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call.”

‘Smart boy,’ you thought.

Sam opened the glove box and found the ringing phone. “Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey… No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me—” Sam gestured to you for a pen, which you quickly handed to him— “do you- do you have the address so I can... Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot.” He then hung up and turned to Dean. “Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Outside of Buffalo?”

The older brother shook his head. “No way.”

“Yeah. And someone just broke into it.”

***

“No demons allowed,” Sam noted upon entering his father’s storage container. A large Devil’s Trap was etched into the ground, and two sets of bloody footprints traveled right through it. 

“Check this out,” Dean said, stooping to hold up a tripwire. It was attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. 

“Whoever broke in here got tagged,” Sam said.

“I got two sets of boot treads here,” you announced, “looks like it was a two-man job. And Buckshot Boy looks like he kept walking.” You nodded toward the bloody footprint trail leading into the container.

“So, what's the deal?” Sam wondered aloud. “Dad would do work here or something?”

“Living the high life, as usual,” Dean quipped.

The three of you crept around John’s storage locker, and the two brothers chatted about how much of a mystery their father still was to them. You took in the varying types of clutter. To your surprise, the room was filled with old memorabilia; photo albums, a graduation cap and gown you assumed was Sam’s, and a few boxes whose contents were written on the outside of them in a woman’s handwriting you assumed belonged to Mary. 

You smiled at a trophy on a shelf nearby. “Check it out,” you said, picking it up and dusting it off. “Sam Winchester, 1995,” you read aloud, “Soccer Division Championship.”

Sam grinned and came over to you. “No way! I can't believe he kept this.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled lopsidedly, “it was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy.” He wandered over to another table with a shotgun laid on it. “Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade.” The older brother laughed and pumped the dusty shotgun.

“You made that?” you questioned.

“Not bad, eh?” he grinned excitedly.

“No, not at all,” you giggled. “Damn, dude.” You took the gun from him and inspected it, impressed with Dean’s craftsmanship. He smiled proudly at you.

“Guys, over here,” Sam said. You followed his voice over to a door to a back room. The chain on the door had been cut, and you cautiously made your way inside.

You waved your flashlight around the room to find varying weapons and lockboxes that no doubt held nasty supernatural objects.

“Holy crap. Look at this,” Dean called, “he had land mines. Which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?”

You took in the lockboxes on the shelf on the far wall. “This is binding magic,” you pointed out. “Curse boxes.”

“Curse boxes?” Dean questioned. “They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the Pandora deal?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object.”

“Well, Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, y'know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they ended up,” Dean added.

“Must be his sulfur-sludge dump,” you joked. You noticed a rectangular-shaped hole in the dust that had settled over the shelf. “Well, they found what they were looking for.”

“Great,” Sam groaned.

“Well, maybe they didn't open it,” Dean suggested optimistically. 

“Cute thought, but I’m sure they did,” you replied flippantly. You looked around the exterior of the storage unit for anything that could be of use to you; footprints, tire tracks, and… aha! A security camera.

“That’s helpful,” you noted, pointing up at it. 

The boys helped you fish the SD card out of the security camera, and you hooked it up to your computer. 

“There, license plate,” you noted. “And now…” you pulled up an alternate tab and copied the license plate number into it. Immediately, pages began scrolling of places the license plate had been seen at. Most recently, an apartment not too far from you. 

“Ta-da,” you announced childishly, and the brothers looked at you in shock.

“Jesus, (Y/N), how’d you get access to all this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, y’know,” you smirked, trailing off. 

Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Same way any hackers do,” you shrugged. “Had this guy on the hook for a bit when I was, maybe, twenty. Found out he was an FBI agent in the cyber unit— not the brightest of the bunch— and I phished his computer. Of course, as soon as I did, the computer broke and shut down. Told him I was good with computers and could fix it for him, and then, I cut and run. Fixed the laptop up and had access to everything he had access to. Exported it to my laptop, ditched his somewhere in Arizona, and here we are.”

“That is…” Dean trailed off, “incredibly hot.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. 

“Get a room,” Sam mumbled, moving over to the Impala.

***

You and the Winchesters crept into the apartment belonging to the drivers of the stolen Connecticut vehicle, guns drawn. You could hear two men chattering about their poker game, and then you finally burst into the room on Dean’s nod.

“Freeze, freeze! Nobody move!” he commanded.

“He said don’t fucking move!” you ordered, pinning the bandaged, redheaded man to his seat with your gun.

“What is this?” the other man questioned.

“Stop!” Sam demanded. 

“Alright, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–”

Sam cut Dean off. “Oh, they did.”

“You opened it?!” Dean grunted. He shoved the dark-haired man against the wall.

“Are you guys cops?!” the man pinned wondered.

“What was in the box?” Dean questioned angrily.

You noticed a rabbit’s foot on the edge of the table. ‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought. 

“Oh, was that it, huh?” Dean laughed coldly. “It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?”

The man used Dean’s distraction to knock the gun out of his hand. When it fell to the floor, it fired, and you had to drop to the floor to avoid being hit in the face by the bullet.

The bullet ricocheted off the radiator and hit Sam’s gun, and he dropped it. The same bullet somehow ricocheted and hit a lamp, breaking it. You dove across the floor, trying to grab Sam’s gun, and the redheaded man pushed Sam down on top of you.

“The fuck, Sam?!”

“Sorry!”

You scrambled toward the redhead, and he backhanded you, somehow knocking you off balance and sending you to the floor. You normally wouldn’t have been so thrown off by such a simple move, but that rabbit’s foot was definitely working its magic. 

“Dean, I got it!” Sam announced. You turned around to see him holding the rabbit’s foot.

“Fuck, Sam, no!” you cried upon seeing him holding the cursed object.

The dark-haired man moved forward holding Dean’s favored gun and cocked it in his face. The man pulled the trigger in Sam’s face, but the gun jammed. 

‘Thank god.’

A quick scuffle ensued in which the two men opposing you had a bookshelf fall on them and a carpet got wrapped around their ankles and tripped them. Both men knocked themselves out, and Dean laughed triumphantly.

“That was a lucky break!”

“No, not lucky!” you shrieked. “Sam, that’s a rabbit’s foot!”

“Uh, yeah?” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” you panicked. 

“No, what are you—”

“I’m calling Bobby,” you said, storming out of the apartment and back to the Impala. 

“Whoa, whoa, why? I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, (Y/N),” Dean countered, catching up to you. 

“Because that’s a rabbit’s foot, Dean! A cursed object! Its literal function is to bring bad luck,” you explained.

“How?” Sam asked. 

“Once you touch it, you’re marked. Luck’s gonna be on your side.”

“Better buy some lottery tickets then,” Dean chuckled excitedly.

You glared at him. “But if you lose it, you’re fucked. It’ll keep bringing you bad luck till it eventually kills you.”

“Well, I just won’t lose it, then,” Sam tried. 

“Everybody loses it, Sam! That’s the whole point!”

The two boys looked slightly shaken; Sam more so than Dean. Dean was laughing all the way to the bank on this one, and he dragged you and Sam to a gas station to get lottery scratch-off tickets. Then, he drove you to a restaurant chain location called Biggerson’s for some dinner. 

You sat on the phone with Bobby, the two of you angrily muttering about the insanity of the situation to each other.

“Gotta say, kid,” Bobby started, “was hoping the next time I heard from ya, it’d be on happier terms than this.”

“Trust me, me too,” you sighed. “Do you know of anything that can stop this?”

“I’ll dig around—”

Bobby’s voice in your ear was cut off by Dean triumphantly exclaiming, “twelve-hundred dollars! You just won twelve-hundred dollars!”

You grimaced and put the phone back to your ear.

“I’m guessing Sam’s luck’s still good,” Bobby drawled.

“For now, but I don’t know for how much longer.” You got out of the car, suddenly feeling suffocated in the Impala. You paced around, as did Sam, and you watched as he walked over to something glistening under a newspaper on the ground. 

“I’ll figure somethin’ out. Lemme look through my library and make some calls,” Bobby said. “Call me if anything else goes to shit.”

You laughed, and Sam stood up holding a golden watch. He turned to Dean who stood next to you and mouthed something like, “Awesome,” to his brother.

“Will do,” you told the older man on the phone. “Hurry, Bobby.” You hung up as Dean calculated the winnings from the scratch-off tickets he made Sam fill out.

“Oh, man!” Dean grinned. “We’re up fifteen grand!”

You and Sam half-smiled, both feeling unsettled still.

Dean continued to laugh as he walked into the restaurant with you hot on his heels. 

“In case you forgot, Dean, we’re still technically fugitives,” you hissed. “If Sam’s luck goes to hell, we could be royally fucked.”

“Don't worry,” Dean said easily. “Bobby 'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. Sam can be Rain Man.”

“Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam whispered. He turned to the man behind the host stand. “Hi, uh, table for three, please.”

The man’s face broke out into a grin, and he hollered, “Congratulations!” An alarm began to sound through the restaurant.

“It's exciting, I know,” Dean quipped.

“You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!” the man announced. 

The staff surrounding you began singing and taking photographs while they shoved a giant check into your hands. Balloons fell from the ceiling, and you and Sam would’ve rathered been anywhere else. Dean was ecstatic, though, which you were happy to see. You’d suffer tremendous embarrassment fifty times over just to see him smile. That thought scared you a little bit; how you'd do anything for him. You had a tendency to be an extremist.

You were escorted to your table, and a gorgeous waitress in what was clearly a black bob wig approached your table. 

Her coy smile was alluring, but something about her wasn’t sitting right with you. Still, nothing seemed off through the rest of the meal. Sam clacked away on his laptop rattling off bits of lore he was reading on rabbit’s foot Hoodoo magic while you and Dean shared a bowl of ice cream. 

“I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's,” Dean commented. 

The waitress came back over to your table with a pot of coffee and grinned at Sam. “Can I freshen you up?”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

The waitress poured, still smiling, and spilled some in her flirtatious stupor. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Let me mop up here. Sorry about that.” She hurriedly cleaned her mess and left the table, appearing to flirt with Sam over her shoulder even as she left.

“Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky…” Dean trailed off.

Sam smirked. “Shut up.”

You smacked Dean’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Sam went to pick up his coffee, but he knocked the cup over and spilled it all over himself. Before you could process what was going on, he jumped out of his seat and into a waiter with a full tray. Things went flying through the air as Sam rushed profuse apologies. 

“Sam, check your pockets,” you said evenly. 

He did, and his hands came up empty.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

You and the brothers threw a wad of cash on the table and raced into the parking lot after the waitress. You noticed the black bob wig ditched on the ground a few feet from the door. “I knew it was a wig!”

“What?” Sam asked, turning around to you. He immediately tripped and fell flat on his face. 

“Wow! You suck!” Dean laughed, turning back to a groaning Sam.

“Ow,” the younger brother whined while you helped him up. His knees were bloody and raw through his ripped jeans.

“So what, now your luck turns bad?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, Dean, I believe I’ve said that,” you remarked, and he glared at you. 

“Well, how bad does it get, genius?” 

“Really bad. C’mon,” you urged. 

“Where we goin’?” Sam asked.

“Back to the two jackwads that got us into this mess,” you said, hopping in the driver’s seat. 

“Whoa, who said you could drive?” Dean questioned.

“Me. Don’t be a child,” you said. 

***

You broke into the apartment once again to find the brunet man sadly downing a bottle of tequila. 

“Oh, man. What do you want?” the man asked.

“Heard about your friend. That's bad luck,” Dean tsked, referring to the death of the redheaded thief. 

“Piss off,” the man spat.

“We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman,” Dean continued.

“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because she just stole it back from us.”

The man laughed. 

Sam stepped forward. “Listen man, this is seri—” and then he fell to the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player and a shelf down on top of him. 

You turned back to help the younger brother up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, smiling awkwardly in thanks for your help. 

“I want you to tell us her name,” the older Winchester continued to the man. 

“Fuck you,” was the only response he got.

“It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner,” you tried, coming out from behind the couch.

“What?”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinkin’ it. I thought you’d be smarter than that,” you challenged. That seemed to get under the man’s skin, so you continued. “That series of unfortunate events that had to happen to kill your partner— like, had you not seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it— that was the rabbit’s foot. If you don’t help us stop this thing, those deaths are on you, my friend.”

The man in front of you looked worried. 

“And I gotta tell you, it doesn’t seem you’re cut out for the whole killin’ thing. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you?” you continued to press.

The man shook his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No.”

***

You left the apartment repeating the woman’s last name over and over in your head. The man told you “Lugosi” was the only name he and his partner were given when they were hired. 

You took out your phone and called Bobby. 

“Hey, (Y/N), glad you called,” you heard the man say. 

“Hey, we got a situation here—”

“I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick,” Bobby continued. 

“That’s awesome, thank you, but uh…” you trailed off, trying to decide how to phrase your next words. You decided not to sugarcoat it in the end. “Sam lost the foot.”

“He what?!”

“I know, I know,” you sighed. You turned back around to see Sam and Dean trying to use a broken storm grate to get gum off the bottom of Sam’s shoe. You shook your head at their faces when they noticed you; seeming like two little kids caught with their hands in the candy bowl. You returned your focus to your phone call. “Listen, you know anybody by the name ‘Lugosi’? Maybe mid 20’s, super hot, my height—”

“Aw, crap. It’s probably Bela,” Bobby said. 

“ Bela Lugosi? That’s cute, but never heard of her,” you replied.

“Bela Talbot’s her real name,” the older man continued. “Crossed paths with her once or twice.”

“How the hell would she know John had the rabbit’s foot? She a hunter?” you questioned.

“Pretty fuckin’ far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country,” Bobby explained. “Last I heard, she was in the Middle East someplace.”

“Well, she’s back!” you mock-cheered, exasperated.

“Which means seriously bad luck for you,” the older man added.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” you quipped.

“Well, kid, if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her,” he finished. 

“Thanks, Bobby. For everything.”

“Just… look out for those two idjits.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

You sighed and turned back around to see Dean reaching through the storm drain and Sam looking dejected. 

“What happened?” you asked.

“I lost my shoe,” the brunet replied sadly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed sympathetically, and Sam’s head hung low. Dean seemed annoyed and huffed, standing up from the floor. 

“C’mon,” the older brother asserted.

***

Bobby did actually have a pretty good lead on Bela; she apparently lived in Queens about two hours away. 

“So what are we doing here?” Sam questioned, referencing the motel you’d just gotten a room at. 

“You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed,” Dean stated. “And (Y/N), you’re staying with him.”

“What?! Why?” you protested. 

“Because Sam actually listens to you when you tell him not to do something. And you’re way more responsible than me,” Dean shrugged simply.

“Fair point,” you sighed. “Knowing you, you’ll touch the stupid rabbit’s foot, though.”

“Pfft, c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about—”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you dryly stated.

Dean glared at you playfully as he walked Sam into a motel room. You followed close behind and peeked out the door to make sure you weren’t followed. 

“What am I even supposed to do, Dean?” Sam whined.

“Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here—” the older brother pulled a chair into the middle of the room— “and don't move, okay? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose.” Dean turned to you. “If I’m not back by midnight, take off.”

“What, you gonna turn into a pumpkin or something?” you snickered.

“(Y/N), I’m serious.”

“Since when?”

“(Y/N)—”

“Okay, okay, fine, I heard you.”

Dean smirked down at you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.

You watched him leave, a bit of your heart tugging at being anywhere without him. Your feelings for him were certainly growing stronger, and it frightened you how constantly you needed to be near him. 

You turned back to see Sam wrinkle his nose a few times before finally risking a scratch at it. 

“Hey! None of that,” you said. 

Sam’s sad eyes turned to yours. “This fuckin’ sucks, man,” he sighed.

“I know it does. Kinda the whole point of the rabbit’s foot curse,” you commented.

He ignored your smart remark.

“Found anything on how to break Dean’s deal?” you asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. Did find out something interesting, though.”

“What?’ you asked.

“All my mom’s old contacts? All her old friends, the nurse who delivered me— they’re all dead,” he explained.

“What?!” you shrieked. “And you didn’t think to mention this before now?!”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Sam said. “Didn’t wanna say anything in front of Dean; he’d go berserk.”

“You know I have to tell him, right?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, no! Please don’t,” he begged. “Please. You know he’d flip. And, uh, probably more because of the way I got that information than the information itself.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ruby told me.”

“Oh, god.” You rolled your eyes and dropped your head back. 

“C’mon, (Y/N), I mean, I called, and it all checks out. It’s got something to do with me and the demon; I know you recognize that pattern,” Sam tried.

“I do, but I don’t like being constantly stuck in the middle of you and Dean,” you said. “I’m supposed to be Switzerland, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Switzerland didn’t have information on the two sides, she just didn’t pick one,” he shrugged.

“Sam,” you warned, “You know how I feel about keeping things from Dean.”

“I know, I know, but you wouldn’t necessarily be keeping it from him, you’d be…” he trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase his next words, “fulfilling a promise to me.”

“But I didn’t promise anything,” you argued.

“Please promise me you won’t tell Dean. Not till I’m ready,” Sam begged.

“Sam!”

“(Y/N/N), c’mon. Please, man. Please.”

You stared at Sam for a prolonged moment; you stared intensely and Sam looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes from his chair. You sighed and dropped your head forward. “Fine. But you are gonna promise me that you’ll tell Dean eventually. That’s my one condition.”

Sam nodded. “Deal.”

You shook your head and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s chair. “You Winchesters and your secrets.”

“Oh, like you don’t have any,” Sam deadpanned.

You looked up at the television and saw the reflection of your guard uniform and scratched-up face staring back at you. You took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Touché.” You paused for a moment. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What are you gonna do when—” you cut yourself off, tears beginning to well in your throat. You took a deep breath to push them down. “When Dean’s gone?” 

Sam shook his head. “(Y/N), no. He’s not gonna—”

“Sam,” you said. “We are trying everything we can. We’re two months into this thing and no closer to saving him than we were on day one. I stopped looking. Not ‘cause I don’t care anymore, but because I’m not gonna send you to Hell just so Dean can live. I mean, Bobby’s been lookin’, too! And he hasn’t found a damn thing. So I just think we have to be real with ourselves.”

Sam shook his head, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose him,” you said, putting your hand on Sam’s knee to make him look at you and beginning to cry, too. “I don’t. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But… I’m scared, man. When I lost my family…” you closed your eyes at the memory of some of the awful things you’d done and would never forgive yourself for, “I don’t wanna do that again. And… And I just think that if we kept huntin’ together, we could keep tabs on each other. Make sure the other doesn’t go rogue, y’know?”

“I can’t believe you’re just gonna give up on him like that,” Sam spat, disappointed. 

“I’m not!” you argued. “But I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, dammit! Dean would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself!”

“Look, we’ve got ten months left. We’ll find something,” Sam continued. 

“I hope you’re right, man. I really do,” you said.  

Neither of you said anything for the next few hours.

During that time, you took out your journal and wrote. You didn’t usually keep journals when you were done with them as your duffel bag would be filled to the brim with them by now, but you were definitely going to keep this one; especially after Dean was gone. 

It was somewhat poetic that the first day you met the boys was the first time you’d written in this particular journal. Its pages were filled with your, at first, disdainful musings about the older Winchester brother and slowly but surely became your attempts at discerning your feelings for him.

You liked to buy quite thick and large journals to have enough room for your drawings and to be able to continue writing in them for months and occasionally years. This was the longest you’d been able to stretch one, though, and you were a little over three-fourths through writing in it. 

“I can’t help but wonder what comes next after all this,” you wrote, the pen gliding easily against the page in time with your racing thoughts. “I’ve always been awful about ‘futurecasting’ as Dad called it, but it’s even worse now. Every second I’m with Dean, I can’t help but think about how this is all gonna be over in less than a year. And it’s awful. I wanna be present with him. I just can’t. I don’t want there to be an end to us. I don’t even know if we are anything! He can’t even tell me he loves me.

“And I get it to some extent. ‘I love you’s are hard for him. Fine. I just wish he’d figure out some way to communicate with me that isn’t sex. I mean, the sex is great, but. I don’t know. And just after everything that happened, I’m not feeling great about having sex anyway. And I know it’s upsetting him, even if he won’t say anything; he’d never pressure me, and I know that. And I’m getting better about sex and related things. But it just sucks.

“And I don’t wanna bring any of this up with him and start fights because, as I’m painfully aware, that deadline is getting closer and closer every day. I just want him to be happy with me while he still can be.”

You dropped your pen when the air conditioning unit next to you began to smoke. 

“Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't—” Sam whined.

“Just stay put,” you said. You jerked back in surprise when the unit suddenly caught fire. You grabbed the comforter from the bed next to you and began to put the fire out with it. Thankfully, the fire stopped. 

“I’m gonna see if I can get someone to fix that for us before your luck kills us both with carbon monoxide poisoning,” you said, starting toward the door. 

Suddenly, the door to the motel room burst open. However, it wasn’t Dean who opened it. It was two men. You drew your gun and cocked it, trained on the two men. “Get the fuck out,” you ordered. 

“I don’t think so,” said the older-looking man. He almost reminded you of Willem Dafoe, and you mentally pegged that as his name. The other man with a bizarre-looking mustache charged you, and you fired. Somehow, the bullet missed its target despite him being in such close range. 

“What the hell, Sam?!” you exclaimed. “Your luck’s rubbin’ off on me!”

“Sorry!” he winced.

The man charging you tried to restrain you in a headlock, but you kicked him squarely between the legs. You jutted your elbow back into his nose simultaneously, and the man dropped you. 

Unfortunately for you, though, Sam had been trying to help you by taking on Willem Dafoe. You turned around to see Sam unable to land a punch on the other man’s face. You tried to help him, but Sam ended up punching you across the face, and you were knocked out cold.

***

When you woke up, your arms were bound behind your back, and your legs were taped together as well. The men had laid you on your stomach, and you immediately began to struggle and panic, feeling your current position was too similar to the one you’d been in with the guard. 

“Dean! Help me!” you wailed without thinking. Your body was in autopilot as you struggled, and you couldn’t even focus on the men in the room. 

“Quit whinin’,” the man with the mustache told you. 

You could barely hear him over the roaring in your ears. “Dean!”

“I said shut up!” the man in front of you roared, slapping you across the face.

You couldn’t, though, continuing to flail like a fish out of water.

“Creedy,” the other man said, turning away from Sam and to his accomplice, “shut her up, please.”

“With pleasure.” The man took a rag out of his shirt and shoved it in your mouth, your muffled cries coming out around it. 

You vaguely heard Willem Dafoe beating the crap out of Sam while he talked about his mission from “god” to kill Sam. Then, the man drew his gun. His partner was unsettled, too, as you strained harder to get out of your binds. 

Suddenly, your saving grace appeared in the doorway. “Dean!” you cried through the gag in your mouth. 

Willem Dafoe turned around and aimed the gun point-blank at Sam’s forehead. 

“Nope. No destiny,” Dean said coolly referring to the man’s earlier comment about god and destiny leading them to Sam. “Just a rabbit's foot.”

“Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall,” the man replied, his tone ice cold.

Dean waved his Taurus around. “Oh, this thing?”

“Yeah, that thing,” look-alike-Dafoe responded. 

“Okay.” Dean put his gun down on the nightstand beside him, looking smug. “But you see, there's something about me that you don't know.” Dean smoothly picked up a pen off the nightstand beside the gun. 

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“It’s my lucky day,” Dean grinned. He tossed the pen toward Willem Dafoe, and it lodged in the barrel of the gun. ““Oh my God, did you see that shot?!” 

Forgetting all about your current situation, you started yelling through the gag, “You fucking touched it? You fucking idiot!” But all that came out was a muffled garbling of words. 

The man named Creedy lunged at Dean, but missed his punch completely. The man ended up running straight into the wall, and Dafoe was busying himself trying to dislodge the pen from the barrel of his gun. 

“I'm amazing,” Dean said smugly. He picked up the television remote and threw it hard at Dafoe. It hit the man square between the eyes, knocking him out cold. 

“I’m Batman,” you heard Dean suavely state, but you were too busy returning your focus to getting your binds undone. Now that the immediate danger was over, your body went back into panic mode. You yelped when you suddenly felt a hand on your back and fought even harder. 

“Hey, hey!” Dean coaxed. “It’s just me.” He saw you weren’t listening, and he immediately set to work cutting the duct tape binding your legs and wrists. Your hands shakily yanked out the rag in your mouth. Only then did you realize Dean was the one in front of you, and you leapt into his arms. 

He caught you easily, one hand around the underside of your back and the other around the topside your legs. You curled up into him and buried your face in his neck. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Dean tried, but your shaking wouldn’t stop. You could feel your sobs slowly subside, but it took quite a while of Dean holding you for you to regain your composure. He pressed kisses into the side of your hair while he held you and tried to soothe you by telling you you were safe. 

You finally uncurled your legs from around Dean and let him put you down. 

Sam came up behind you to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded as you sniffled. 

“What happened?” Sam asked in that very unique-to-him soft voice. 

“I dunno,” you lied. 

Dean gave you a look that let you know he’d be asking more questions later. 

“C’mon, we gotta get the hell outta here,” you said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You could feel the boys giving you questioning looks as you gathered up yours and the boys’ things and stalked out to the car. 

*** “Alright,” Sam began, sprinkling cayenne pepper into the embers of a small fire you and the Winchesters had started in the middle of a cemetery. “Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it.”

“One second…” Dean said absentmindedly, scratching off the last of his lottery tickets. 

“Dean—” Sam complained. 

“Hey, back off, Jinx. I’m bringing home the bacon,” Dean quipped. He stashed the cards in his jacket that he’d slung over a gravestone. “Alright, say goodbye, wascally wabbit.” He dangled the rabbit’s foot over the top of the fire. 

“Hey!” you shouted, whipping out your gun at the sound of a twig cracking. You aimed it at the sound, and Bela emerged from the darkness with hers drawn as well. 

“I think you'll find that belongs to me,” she said firmly. “Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey.”

“Oh, hell no,” you said, cocking your gun. 

Bela cut her eyes at you, shooting Sam in the shoulder.

You exclaimed, “What the—!” and Dean cursed, “Son of a—” as Sam collapsed to the ground. 

“Back off, tiger,” Bela told you. “Back off! You make one more move, and I’ll pull the trigger. You’ve got the luck, Dean. You, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him, I can’t miss.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the older brother roared. “You don't just go around shooting people like that!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Relax. It's a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now.”

“Alright!” Dean mollified. “Alright. Take it easy.” He moved to drop the rabbit’s foot, but instead, he threw it at Bela. “Think fast,” he smirked. 

Bela caught the foot and immediately realized what she’d done. “Damn!”

“Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?” Dean smiled in satisfaction. 

Bela sighed, aggravated. She dropped her arm and uncocked her gun, but you kept yours aimed at her as she moved over to the fire. 

“Would you stop pointing that at me?” her smooth voice came without looking at you. 

“Sorry, love. Don’t trust you,” you smiled in fake-politeness. 

She rolled her eyes and moved back to the fire. She dropped the foot into the fire. “Thanks very much,” Bela continued. “I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.” 

“Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?” Dean turned to his brother.

“Nope. Not even a little.”

Bela’s gaze hardened. “Hmm. Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry.” She turned around and moved toward the gravestone where Dean’s jacket laid. You knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Have a nice night, girls,” Bela smirked. 

You glared at her. “Uh, uh! Turn around!” you ordered. 

“What?” she sighed, clearly annoyed. 

“Gimme the tickets,” you commanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. 

“Yeah, you do. You can’t con me, angel.”

She grumbled angrily but took the stolen tickets out of her pocket and threw them to the ground. 

“Thanks a million,” you called after her. 

“You’re fuckin’ awesome, woman,” Dean admired, you assumed in reference to the tickets you noticed Bela stole. He came over to you and kissed you boldly. You giggled against his lips, and he held your waist firmly. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey! Bleeding out, here!” 

You broke away from Dean. “Oh, sorry!” you grimaced, moving to head back to the Impala. “C’mon, I’ll get you patched up.”

When you ensured the rabbit’s foot was burnt to a crisp, you and the Winchesters moved to the car. 

“You good?” Dean asked his brother. 

“I’ll live,” he responded. 

“I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. And we're up forty-six thousand.” Dean threw his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, waving the tickets around in the air. 

“Maybe we should hit Vegas, see how good our luck still is,” you suggested, smiling lopsidedly. 

“I like the way you think,” Dean nodded. “Whaddaya say, Sammy?”

“I think you guys are gonna end up blowing all our money on slot machines,” the younger brother dryly commented. 

“Ye of little faith,” you said. “If not Vegas, we can at least get ourselves a nicer motel room. Maybe we can graduate to hotels!”

“Ooh, yeah. One of those hotels with a jacuzzi tub.”

“Hell yeah—”

“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Still bleeding out, here.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I write stories in horror genre. I've been wanting to incorporate more disabled characters in these, because I feel like they're really underrepresented in the genre except for either demonizing roles of antagonists, or a random victim who dies/is exploited for cheap shock because of their disability. One of the stories I'm working on has intellectually disabled protagonist/narrator. Are there any things you'd recommend to avoid in writing a character with ID in context of horror genre specifically?

Hi!

I have a few problems with ID characters in horror media. Two of the three biggest ones you've actually already covered in your ask, so I'll just add quick explanations for people not familiar with them.

First is the "big intellectually disabled man murders everyone", not even because he's evil or is seeking revenge or whatever, but because he "doesn't understand" that murder bad. It's absurdly insulting and writers don't seem to understand that a lot of real life cases where an ID man "committed" a brutal crime are a result of police manipulation and tricking them into "confessing", but that's a very long and frustrating topic.

Second one is the victim thing. Hardly exclusive to any minority, but with ID characters it often seems like they're the first of many victims and their death is usually ignored because who cares (granted, pretty realistic) until more people start dying and all that. Dogs tend to get more sympathy (also realistic).

Third thing that I hate is the "everything is Normal... until the character is revealed to have mental [R word]!!! (scary music)". Generally in the sense that the situation seems completely fine, the protagonist has no actual traits of ID, but then at some point they find out they have ID (usually severe or profound, which is ridiculous in this context) and suddenly the actions of those around them are pretty clearly fucked up (the character is actually held hostage, kidnapped, about to be murdered, you get it). It uses intellectual disability as a shock factor and as some worst-case scenario nightmare fuel for abled people, even though the situation makes no sense (no, a profoundly ID person isn't going to be reading their medical records and find out this way) and wouldn't happen. It's insulting nonsense.

Another thing that is insensitive in my opinion is the institution/SPED setting. Definitely not because nothing evil happens in there (quite the opposite) but because the way it's usually treated is completely devoid of empathy and the actual victims are portrayed as animals almost (or not so almost). I'd just stray away from the extreme real-life abuse scenarios (abusive caregivers, borderline slavery "work"places, purposeful medical malpractice) that do actually happen if you don't have a lot of experience or aren't working with someone who does.

Last thing, kinda connected to the third, is to not make any bizarre connections between the disability and the horror. ID can make someone trust others more which could lead to a situation that's potentially Scary, but it doesn't have much to do with demons or the parents doing something fucked up before the person was born.

There are of course other things that are kinda tired, but not completely made-up. ID people are victims of crime way more often, that's a statistic that's been true since the dawn of time. But it doesn't mean that they won't fight back because they're disabled. I'd love to see a character who actually wins against the antagonist at some point (even if just for a moment, considering it's horror) - whether they're physically stronger, or know the place better so they get away, or manage to keep calm because they haven't realized they're in a dangerous situation, it would be awesome to see.

Some additional notes that might or might not apply depending on what kind of horror it is;

A lot of people with ID aren't going to be reacting to the regular horror stuff the same way as your average horror character might. They might not think much when they hear a Suspicious Sound and not go investigate it, or be too scared because it's an Unfamiliar Situation. What would be more realistic in a scenario like this is the ID character actually reaching out for help (depends on the settings what that would be); most of us get it drilled into our brain to listen to authority, so they would probably be calling the cops rather than going into the Scary Basement, even if just in the fear of not doing the thing you're supposed to.

In more of an eldritch horror setting where there is an incomprehensible Thing happening, a character with a significant intellectual disability literally has an advantage over abled people. It's just one of many incomprehensible things. Many of us are simply used to ignoring things that don't make sense since the majority of people don't have the patience to explain things in a way that's actually helpful.

It'd be also cool for the ID character to actually have a goal, objective, or whatever else to drive them forward and have some development. Whether that would be the desire to find out who murdered their ex-husband, or why the sink has blood instead of water, or just to survive the voyage, basically anything other than just standing there only experiencing things when some abled savior shows up and tells them how to feel and what to do (both bad for an ID character but also just a poorly written protagonist of any kind).

Hope this helps !

mod Sasza

[whateverloomis]

I just came up with a good idea for a prompt. So basically #5 on the list but maybe make it a vampire AU?

Essentially everything’s the same with Billy and Stu but the only difference is they are both vampires. Like a vampire Ghostface 👀

And only because I enjoy it, extra bloody 🩸

Anon, this idea is crazy and I absolutely love it. Buckle up because this one is a wild ride 😈

Prompt: "Is that... Blood?"

Warnings: Reader has pre-determined clothing, reader has pre-determined desires and likings, AFAB reader, SMUT, period sex, BLOOD, and lot's of it, lot's of juicy plot, teasing, vampire bites, infidelity, making out, some Stully action, unedited. If I missed anything else lmk!

Reader: They/them pronouns (highlighted in bold,) AFAB

Word count: 5k (I went insane with this one, okay?)

It was bad enough with Casey Becker and Steve Orth getting murdered, now there's reports of people disappearing and found dead, bitten in multiple parts of their bodies and completely drained.

The police says that the bite marks weren't big enough to fit the description of maybe a bear or wolf. Neither of those animals drain the blood out of their pray either, which automatically discards them from the suspected killer creature. The case was more complicated than it sounded. It wasn't as simple as to pin it on a random animal and call it a day, those were serious murders and the amount of people that were disappearing from Woodsboro was alarming.

Some people started speculating and coming up with crazy theories. Sending in reports with the descriptions of some kind of a specific white mask that looked like a ghost, but it was decorated with fangs in it's mouth. There were also reports of two individuals spotted running around fields at unnatural speeds.

It was easy to come up with those kinds of things. People were desperate for an answer. Losing a loved one and knowing that others were at risk was terrifying. It was understandable, but complete insanity at the same time. The town seemed to be going collectively crazy.

"What if there are vampires out there... It sounds crazy but there have been reports of very similar cases in many other places outside of Woodsboro." Tatum questioned, that time around sounding more serious than previous. Randy scoffed at her comment and stood up. It looked like he was going to tell a speech or something.

"Listen, this started off as a typical slasher movie and now we're mixing Dracula with it? C'mon guys! It doesn't make sense! It's like believing aliens exist or something-" - "Aliens do exist man, I saw a UFO once. It was insane." Stu added and Randy looked at him in disbelief of his stupidity level. "This isn't a game, Stu. I bet you were high as fuck when you saw it." - "Correction, I was drunk, therefore no hallucinating was involved. It was definitely a UFO." Stu said, 100% convinced.

"I believe you, Stu." you answered and Stu pointed at you. "Hah, see?!" Stu said excitedly and you laughed softly, clearly leading the boy on to mess with Randy.

"YN, you're not helping my case here." Randy said and you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. "Listen, going back to the main topic here. These murders are definitely strange. Bite marks? And they don't even seem like it was an animal that made them? Something's off." You said, "Plus it'd be kinda hot to have vamps running around." you continued. "I second that." Tatum said with a smirk on her face.

Billy and Stu looked at each other, devious smiles on their faces that only you saw. Billy quickly shot a glare at you and you looked away, sudden goosbumps taking over your body.

"You're insane. If you guys want to be delusional and believe that nonsense go ahead, but there's a logical explanation to this. I just need more time to figure it out." Randy said and Billy sighed, annoyed at the boys rambling. "That's nice and all, but I have a class to attend." - "Billy, you're like 15 minutes late." Sidney said, slightly concerned at his carelessness. He looked at her and gave her a quick kiss, reassuring her that it's not a big deal.

You felt a pang of jealousy at the sight.

Billy's a player. He had been cheating on Sidney for months with you and he even told you that he didn't have feelings for Sidney anymore. He admitted that he was developing feelings for you and you were definitely falling for him too, but it was complicated. Billy kept telling you he couldn't break it off with Sid because she was hurt and vulnerable because of her mother's death. That he needed to find the right time, but it was starting to affect you emotionally. The pain was overwhelming at times and Billy had promised you he wouldn't display any form of affection towards Sidney in front of you. That promise was broken. He walked past you and gave you a loving stare. Despite the hurt you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming love that radiated from him.

Then there was Stu. You also had a relationship with him behind Tatum's back. She had dated your ex for a while after he cheated on you and broke your heart, so you hooked up with Stu as revenge, but things escalated and even if the feelings weren't nearly as strong as they were for Billy there was definitely something developing.

All three of you knew about each other and it had slowly become a triangle. It was a complicated mess, but it was yours and you didn't plan on breaking it off any time soon.

The boys didn't display any kind of behavior that revealed their truth. That revealed that they were vampires. They had been feeding non-stop, (hence the multiple murders,) to keep themselves calm and collected around you. It was very difficult at times, though. You smelled so sweet and they had been tempted multiple times to taste you. Relish in your sweet blood and make you theirs forever. It consumed them at times, but they couldn't ruin your life like that. Having eternal life wasn't a choice for both of them and it was difficult at times to process that reality. They didn't want to do anything to hurt you, yet they needed you. It was painful. It was torture.

•

"He broke a promise Stu, a promise is a promise." you explained as the boy listened carefully. As you spoke about how hurt you were about Billy kissing Sidney in front of you, Stu was trying to figure out how to comfort you without exposing his and Billy's plan about killing Sidney Prescott, and much less them being vampires.

"I understand that you're upset baby but you know he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He loves you, YN." - "I just don't understand why he can't break it off with Sidney already. They're nothing at this point." You replied instantly and Stu sighed, seeming defeated. "It's a complicated subject YN, you know this. I can't speak for Billy, but I can guarantee that he's handling this the right way. The kiss was clearly to calm her down and not have her after his ass bitching about being 15 minutes late to class. You know how it is, hm?" He said as he scanned your face. You looked at his blue eyes and couldn't help but get lost in them. It was as if there was some kind of force convincing you that you were overreacting. That you needed to be patient, even if you had been feeling it decrease rapidly.

"You're right." The words slipped right out of your mouth, almost as if you didn't even think about saying them. You just spoke. "I know he wouldn't hurt me on purpose I just..." You stopped yourself. You felt greediness consume you. Felt selfish about what you wanted to admit to your boyfriend, but you needed to let it out. "C'mon babe, you can talk to me." Stu said, his voice soft despite his usual goofy nature. "I just want him to myself already. Sidney doesn't deserve him, all she does is bitch at him over her mother and think about herself. I think about him. Care about him. About you. About us." You said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from falling out of your eyes. You hated how vulnerable you were at the moment, but you also knew Stu was there for you. He loved you even if you had a completely different relationship with him.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and cupped your face. He gave you a lingering kiss and ran his hand down your arm soothingly. "You have us, YN. Stop worrying so much. Everything will fall in place sooner than you think." He reassured and you smiled at him softly. Despite him being an ass and goof ball, Stu was easy to talk to and so magnetic. You couldn't get enough of him. "Now c'mon, let's go meet up with Randy and Tatum, we don't want them thinking we were making out or something." He said suggestively, a smirk adorning his face. You rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his arm, "Later, I'm still sad." - "Ugh, fine." Stu replied and walked away with you, spanking your ass along the way.

•

After having an impromptu hang out at the mall with Stu, Tatum and Randy that day, you felt a bit better about the incident with Billy. It was only a temporary fix that lasted until you got to your dorm though.

After a few hours of trying to distract yourself with assignments and reading, your emotions started to consume you once more. You sat on your bed with a few movie tapes in your hands to choose from, and of course they were horror movies. They provided a strange sense of comfort and also reminded you of Billy and all those nights you watched scary movies those first few days of your relationship, ending up tangled between the sheets. You couldn't get enough of each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Billy was knocking on your window. You looked at him in surprise and set the tapes down on your dresser before opening the window for him.

"Hey." He whispered before letting himself in. You closed the window and shut the curtains before turning around to face him. "What are you doing here?" You asked firmly and Billy gave you a confused look. "What am I... What's wrong?" He asked, immediately sensing that you were upset. "You know what's wrong." You said and walked past him. Billy followed you with his eyes, your delicious scent hitting his nose immediately. You were fertil and he knew it was going to be difficult to pay attention to your words, but he had to try. For you. For your relationship. "I don't, can you explain what happened? Please?" He asked, fully attentive. You sat on the edge of the bed and he followed your actions, sitting next to you. His thigh touched yours and he was searching for your eyes desperately.

"You kissed Sidney in front of me today." You explained and looked at him seriously. Billy widened his eyes, concern written all over his face. "Fuck... Baby, I'm. I didn't realize, I wasn't thinking ab-" - "Yeah, exactly. That's the problem. You weren't thinking about it." You interrupted and stood up, facing him. "Do you even care about the things that I say to you? It was a simple request. You said it wouldn't be complicated yet you-" You stopped yourself, exhaling to try and calm yourself. Your heart rate was accelerating and Billy could hear the blood pumping in your veins. His pupils dilated slightly at the realization but he couldn't let himself act on any urges. He had to stay focused. "YN, please. You're the only person I care about. Your words are the only ones that matter to me-" - "Well you sure aren't acting like it, Loomis. It sure seemed like you wanted to kiss h-" - "Don't go there." Billy interrupted, sudden anger taking over him. "I love you and only you. I only want you. I just have to keep Sidney in the loop a bit longer, and I didn't want her on my case s-" - "So you used it as a distraction. Yeah, Stu explained it to me." You finished his sentence and he bit his lip in thought. "You went to Stu about this?" He asked, you couldn't detect any emotions coming from him along with the question. "Yes. I was upset and angry. I didn't want to talk to you because I knew I'd end up arguing, which would've made this whole situation worse." Billy nodded and stood up, towering over you. "I'm sorry baby, it won't happen again." He said softly and placed his hand on your cheek. "You have every right to be mad, and if you need space I understand completely, just tell me what you need, okay? I can't stand knowing that you're mad at me." he continued and placed his hand on your neck, running his thumb over your pulse point. He felt the throb of your vein and closed his eyes to contain himself before moving his hand down your arm. "I don't need space, Billy. I need you to keep your promises. I need you to show me that you really care." You said and he exhaled softly. "I do care," the boy paused and sat down on the edge of your bed again, pulling you towards him. "And i'll make it up to you, okay?" He continued and pulled you, sitting you on his lap. "I'll even go to Stu's stupid party tomorrow, and when everyone leaves it'll be just us three, nobody else." Billy finished and kissed your nose. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his lips softly. It had been a while since the three of you spent time together with nobody else around. You missed it. Missed them. "Okay, deal." You whispered before kissing him again, prolonging it.

Billy felt like he was gonna go insane with you on his lap, kissing him like you were. You tasted so sweet on his tongue, your touch felt electric and he swore that he could've came just by you grinding against his hard cock. He had to feed or else he was going to hurt you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you and devour you, Billy had to control himself. He came up with a cheap excuse to leave your room that night and fed on one of the girls from your dorm. The poor woman was walking towards the building alone, and Billy launched at her. He practically dragged her to the back of the building and pinned her against the wall, brutally biting her neck with his sharp K9s, drinking her dry in a matter of minutes. The last thing she saw was a white ghost face mask with fangs before he left her there. Another corpse to be found the next day that was sure to create more drama in the news.

•

"Samantha?! I literally saw her that night before she left to the drive in." You told Tatum who broke the news about another one of the many bodies that were found drained that weekend. You remembered that Billy left at around the same hour the incident happened. You thought maybe he had seen something. That he could provide some useful information so you met Billy at the benches behind the college campus, which was very secluded and gave him a soft smile when you saw him walking towards you. "Hey." You said, your tone soft and sweet. Billy smirked at you and placed his hand on your hip, "Hey baby." he greeted and kissed you tenderly. "Did you hear about Samantha?" You asked him, worry coating your words. Billy visibly stiffed but kept his cool with his facial expressions. "No, what happened?" He asked, expertly pretending that he was clueless. "She got killed the same day you came over to talk... I was just wondering if you saw something when you left. We weren't friends or anything but... Billy, I'm kinda scared." You admitted and he frowned, pulling you into a comforting hug. If only you knew he was trying to keep you safe. To keep you alive and well. To keep your love for each other growing. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me? Nothing." He said firmly. You pulled away and looked at his eyes. He was dead serious and you immediately felt comfort. You knew Billy would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You thought back to that night when he suggested you guys staying over at Stu's, and with the incident it seemed like it was the best option for everyone.

"Awh, look at you love birds." Stu said walking towards you guys. "Keep it down, would you?" Billy said, annoyed at his friend being so verbally open. "Oh c'mon, it's just us here, lighten up." Stu replied and hugged you from behind. You looked at him over your shoulder and he kissed you. "That's my baby." He cood and you couldn't help but giggle at his words. Billy stood there in front of you guys, his eyes roaming your body and observing how you behaved with Stu. He couldn't deny that he liked seeing you two being so affectionate with each other. "You want a kiss too?" Stu asked Billy teasingly and the boy rolled his eyes, annoyance written on his face. "Take a hike." he said and Stu laughed. "I love you too."

You laughed at their interaction. Stu was undeniably attracted to Billy but the boy was hard to read. Your relationship kept growing by the minute and you wouldn't be surprised if they ended up having some kind of dynamic in the future.

"You guys coming to my fiesta tonight?" Stu asked and Billy raised at eyebrow. "Yeah, we're staying over." He said, pointing at you and then at himself. Inviting you without a care. "Well shit, okay." Stu said teasingly, releasing a breathy laugh. Billy smirked then looked at you. Tension was surrounding the air around you and you blushed as a consequence.

•

Stu's house was packed. There were people you didn't even recognize hanging out and you were determined to go to the pool to avoid as many people as you could.

As you approached the back doors that lead to your desired destination, Tatum, Stu and Sidney were already in the pool, close to the steps. Stu and Tatum were in the water trying to convince Sidney to get all the way in as she complained about it being too cold.

"Mind if I join?" You asked, already taking your cover up dress off. You had a blood red colored bikini on that hugged your body perfectly. Your tits were on display, the slightest bit of under boob was visible and the cheeky bottoms made your ass pop out.

"Looking hot YN, you're gonna have to tell me where you got that bikini later." Tatum said, a genuine smile on her face. Despite her dirty move with your ex she was an honest girlie, which you appreciated despite your resentment. "You've got that right babe." Stu answered and stuck his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully, not knowing that her boyfriend's usual flirting wasn't casual in the slightest.

You dipped your toes and widened your eyes. "What the fuck guys, the water is cold." you agreed with Sidney and sat next to her, trying to get half of your body used to the temperature first. "Oh c'mon guys! Get in!" Tatum shouted and pulled Sidney by her legs, the girl releasing a yelp before sliding all the way in the pool. Stu walked towards you and picked you up by the waist and over his shoulder, walking deeper into the water. "No! Stop it!" You said playfully and Stu released you, the cool water hugged your body and the shock of temperature felt good in a torturous way. As you floated up, you took a deep breath and hit Stu on his bicep playfully. "Asshole." - "Oh don't be a cry baby." He said and you rolled your eyes. "Hey, where's Billy?" You whispered at the boy and he smirked at you, "Mmm you want him to see you in this little bikini of yours?" Stu replied teasingly and played with the straps of your top. You smiled teasingly and flicked his hand. "Relax, he's getting us some beer from the garage."

A few minutes later Billy walked out with a six pack in his hands. "There's my booyy, and he brought just enough for everyone." Stu cheered and winked at you. The girls walked out to grab their drinks and you followed them. "Can you get me mine babe?" Stu asked, staying behind. "Seriously?" - "C'mooon" He begged, and you couldn't deny him when he was being that cute and whiny.

The girls grabbed their bottles first and you followed second. Walking towards Billy you smirked at him as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe. "Fuck, baby... Are you trying to kill me tonight?" He whispered and you let out a breathy laugh. "Mm, who knows? Maybe I'm the vampire." You said teasingly and Billy laughed at your dark comment. You winked at him before grabbing two beer bottles and approached the edge of the pool where Stu was. You sat on the floor, dipping your feet in. The boy grabbed the bottle from your hands and took a swing.

Suddenly, he got the sweetest smell from you. A faint musk to it as well. He looked at Billy to see if he also detected it but the boy was making small talk with Tatum and Sidney.

"So, is Randy around?" You asked Stu and he shook his head slightly before taking another swing of his beer to ground himself. "Yeah, he's inside watch..." he suddenly stopped talking and looked between your legs. A small amount of blood and water pooled between them. "Is that... Blood?" Stu asked, his pupils dilated slowly. "What... Oh my God..." You looked between your legs. You got your period early. "Fuck..." You whispered and moved subtly reaching for the towel on the chair behind you. Stu felt like he was getting intoxicated by your delicious aroma. He felt his fangs starting to grow and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to control himself. Luckily, you picked up the towel in time to wrap it around you and excuse yourself.

Stu made eye contact with Billy. He also knew. When you walked past him his pupils started to dilate as well, but he had much more control than Stu when it came to the urge of tasting you. Billy made his way to Stu and crouched down in front of him. "Get ahold of yourself, we can't risk getting caught, you understand?" He whispered, aggression lacing his words. Stu sighed and looked up in defeat. "Man, how the fuck are we gonna be able to resist if they're going to sleep over tonight?" Stu asked, desperation slowly overwhelming him. "We'll figure it out later, okay? Just keep it in your pants for now." Billy replied and glared at him before stepping inside the house to make sure you were okay.

•

You stepped out of the shower after excusing yourself for the rest of the party. Billy was constantly checking up on you until everyone left and all three of you were finally alone.

You put on leak safe underwear since you preferred to free bleed, and one of Stu's sweaters which covered your body perfectly, given your size difference.

When everyone finally left the house, you went down stairs to look for the boys and help clean up the after party mess. To your surprise, Billy and Stu had taken care of everything. You wondered how long it took them to finish everything, it hadn't been long since you heard the music stop playing and the sweet silence of the absence of the herd of people that were drowning the house.

In the kitchen, Billy and Stu were talking quietly. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying, so you assumed they thought you were fast asleep and didn't want to wake you up.

You barely took a few steps in the room and their eyes were already on you. They seemed darker than usual.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" Billy was the first to speak. He walked towards you slowly and placed his hand on your cheek. "I'm fine, I just didn't want to be around people." You answered.

The vibes were off. The boys were strangely quiet and mellow. Their gazes were intense and their eyes didn't look the same as they usually did. They were scanning your body like hungry animals and you were starting to get a little bit freaked out.

"Why is everyone acting weird? I just got my period a day early, it's not a big deal. Seriously." You said, starting to get kind of annoyed at their strange behavior and lack of words.

"You see, that's what you don't understand YN, it is a big deal." Stu said and started to move towards you almost as if he were hunting a prey. "Stu." Billy said in a warning tone.

You took a step back and swallowed thickly. Your breathing picked up.

"You smell so sweet and it's driving me insane." Stu said and you gave him a confused stare. What did he mean by that? "And you know what? I don't care anymore." He continued and his eyes turned completely black. You gasped at the sight. Confusion was the only thing going through your head. Fear, but intrigue at the same time. Stu bit his lower lip before smiling, and there it was. Fangs. "What the fu-" you attempted to run but Billy held you from behind, moving you quickly so you ended up behind him. He was shielding you with his large frame. "Stu, for the love of fuck, get ahold of yourself!" the boy said and you held his arm from behind. "Does he want to kill me?" You asked and he turned around quickly. Stu seemed to calm down when he heard your words. "No baby, we would never hurt you. He just-" Billy paused and looked at Stu over his shoulder before meeting your eyes. "Wants to taste you... Your blood." You looked at him with curiosity in your eyes. What would it be like to be bitten by a vampire? "Would you guys... Kill me if I let you?" You asked and Billy's pupils instantly dilated, his eyes turning completely black just like Stu's. The fear you felt mixed with excitement. You felt an energy shift with them like this. Wild and ready to pounce. It was risky. It was crazy, and you wanted it.

"Taste me." You said, and that was it.

Stu walked towards you and picked you up, his big hands around your waist. He sat you on the counter and stood between your legs. He could smell your arousal mixed with the blood between your legs and groaned. "Finally." He whispered and moved your head to the side softly. You bit your lip and prepared for the unknown pain you were about to experience.

Stu licked and kissed your neck a few times before digging his fangs in your flesh. You released a high pitched moan. The pain was pleasurable. You felt your blood run down your neck and over your chest.

Billy was leaning against the counter close to the both of you. A smirk on his face and his cock impossibly hard against his jeans. The sight of Stu savoring you excited him more than he thought it would. He bit his lip and hissed, his fangs fully displayed with the action.

Stu took the sweater off your body, exposing your bloody tits to both of them and Billy couldn't take it anymore. He walked towards you and Stu moved to the side, opening your legs more so Billy could be in front of you as well. He took another bite below Stu's mark and groaned at your taste. He licked the stripe of blood that ran down your chest and moaned. Stu joined him and lapped at the fluid as well. Their tongues touched occasionally against your skin and you were going insane. You moaned and whined at the sight of your vampire boyfriends tasting you.

Billy desperately took your underwear off and tossed them somewhere on the kitchen floor. He inhaled sharply and moaned at your scent. Stu slid down between your legs under Billy and licked your bloody cunt. Billy kissed you desperately as the boy between your legs moaned against your center.

You were tasting yourself on Billy's tongue, a metallic and somewhat sweet flavor palette. You were so turned on that you didn't even care about the fact that you were practically consuming your own blood from your boyfriends mouth.

Stu dipped his long tongue inside you and you arched your back at the feeling. Billy couldn't handle not being between your legs eating you up so he slid down your body and positioned himself next to Stu. They both licked your clit and savored your cunt like it was their last meal. The sight of them touching tongues while pleasuring you was enough to send you over the edge. You came the hardest you've ever experienced. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming that another mini orgasm washed over your body right after. You were practically screaming at that point but they weren't done with you yet.

Both of them stood up and pulled you down from the counter by your legs. You crashed against Billy and he pinned you against the fridge. He kissed you with passion and rubbed your clit a few times before finger fucking you. "Fuck, fuck... Please! Just fuck me already!" You moaned and he unbuttoned his jeans quickly, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso and he spun around, leaning against the fridge. You felt Stu grab your waist to keep you steady while he unbuttoned his pants. Suddenly, Billy slipped inside you all the way in. The lubrication your blood provided created the perfect slide and the pleasure was intense as well. Billy started thrusting at a steady pace and moaned in your ear while he held you close.

Stu inserted his cock inside you a few minutes later after making sure you were stretched enough for him. Your boyfriends filled your hole deliciously and your moans filled the room. There was blood and arousal running down your thighs. You were a mess and felt like you were going to pass out any moment from the loss of blood and the intense pleasure you were receiving.

Billy and Stu lapped at the blood dripping down from your neck once again and moaned in unison. They couldn't handle it anymore and came inside you, filling you up with their seed. They rode their highs inside you before pulling out. Stu released you and you leaned against Billy.

"You okay?" Billy asked, his voice husky against your ear. You let out a breathy laugh and bit your lower lip. "I need a shower" You replied, energy drained from your body.

"Let's go." Billy whispered and Stu carried you up the stairs.

[heeseung-min]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

"Your change would be $2.20. Thank you!"

You gave the money to the customer and told him his drink would be ready in a few minutes. The business is slow today. There is not much customers so you are able to do few things in one time.

"Here's your drink, sir. Have a good day."

"It's for you."

"Sorry?"

You were flabbergasted by his gesture. He pushed the drink gently towards you. You could see how his face started to flush and his eyes were everywhere but you.

"I- I ordered this drink for you. Nice to see you."

He said that and immediately ran out from the shop. You were too clueless to do anything so you just sipped on the free drink before went to the next customer.

It continues to be like that. Sometimes, he will bring you flowers or pastries he bought from the bakery near your shop. You learned his name is Jake. At first, the gesture seems to be cute and kind even though you denied him doing it sometimes. However, it became overwhelming when he started to send you gifts like ring with a side note hinted about marriage. You don't like Jake like that. You tried to talk to him about that but sadly the man just giggled and didn't take the matter seriously.

You were laying on the couch while watching a korean drama on your television. You decided to take some days off from work and also from Jake. He is a good guy but you prefer to be just a friend and no more than that. As you were munching on the snacks, you heard knock from the front door.

"urghh I didn't even invite anyone."

You walked to the door forcedly. You just want to enjoy your rest without any disturb. When you opened the door, you were shocked when you saw Jake was standing in front of the door.

"Jake...how can you...be here?"

Jake was standing in front of you with smile on his face. His hands were holding a small bouquet of flowers. However, you never tell him your address. How the fuck this man can be here ?

"Ahh well umm I accidentally saw you around here the other day ago. I was worried about you, Y/n. I thought you were sick because you didn't open your shop and I was waiting there every morning. Thankfully the security guard helped me to get to your house."

"Go away."

His smile dropped after you said that words coldly. Your eyes also changed to scared and angred. Jake didn't understand. He didn't do anything wrong. Why are you being like this?

"Why? I just miss you Y/N. Why I can't be here with you? I thought this is boyfriend things to do."

"What the fuck do you say?!!"

"Are we fighting right now? Whatever I did I'm really sorry. I will try my best to not do it again. This is my first time-"

"Stop! STOP STOP STOP STOP JAKE STOP!!!"

Jake went speechless after hearing you shouted. You rolled your eyes when Jake's expression didn't look guilty at all.

"We are not a couple. I don't love you. We are just friends, Jake. What you did right now is wrong. I never tell you my address and the fact you followed me here is disturbing. So, I want you to leave before I called the police."

You said and immediately closed the door on him. You waited for 20 minutes to open the door again and sighed in relief when Jake finally gone. You thought of going to your parents house since Jake already know your address so he might come here again.

That night, you brought your luggage through the parking building to get to your car. It was at the middle of the night and you thought it was safe since you were alone.

But that's where you got it wrong.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?"

You flinched at the sight of Jake standing few metres from you. His clothes are not clean like how you saw him this morning. His white top looked brownish like a dried blood and it's not only on his clothes but also on his face and hands. He was just smiling at you waiting for your response.

"Are you .... planning to run away from me?"

Your heartbeat started to increase. His voice had made your hands shaking and gave you goosebumps. It feels hard to move and he slowly walked closer to you.

"I missed you like crazy, Y/n."

Suddenly, you finally got courage and ran to make it to your car. You were like 50 metres away from your car and Jake was a bit far. However, as you were running to your car Jake started to do the same too. The luggage you brought together already forgotten and you only want to save yourself for now.

When you thought he nearly grabbed your hand you successfully dodged it and quickly get inside the car and locked it instantly to stop Jake from getting inside too. You watched him being in rage and frustrated when he failed to catch you. His harsh knock on your car window made you flinched again. Jake went closer to the window and staring straight to your eyes.

"I will find you no matter how far you run away from me, Y/n."

Immediately, you started the engine and reverse the car away from him before starting the drive. You looked at him from the rear view mirror and felt the goosebumps again when he just standing there and watched you went away.

You were lucky to still have your wallet and phone. Only this two things matter for now. You tried to call your parents but failed few times it only forwarded you to the operator.

After two hours of driving, you felt so hungry and sleepy at the same time. You made a stop at the gas station to fill up your gas and bought some breads and drink for your empty stomach.

You were focusing on the options of foods they have when someone entering the station. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake who was looking everywhere to see you. You hide at one of the aisle and the cashier staring weirdly at him then called him out.

"What do you want man? You looking for something?"

"Where is she?"

You heard Jake asked but the cashier looked so confused and told Jake to get out before he called the police. However, instead of following what the worker said Jake shot him once at the head and you cupped your mouth to prevent any sound coming out. You never expected Jake to be this violence. You tried to think how to run away from here and found an empty glass bottle near the freezer. Without wasting too much time, you picked it up and ran to Jake the smashed at his head. You heard his loud groan and curse but you keep running towards your car and left the gas station.

Jake too immediately chased you with his car. He wasn't going to let you go. He will get you no matter what. The smash caused his head to bleed but he didn't care and he didn't feel hurt at all. He just feel excited and thrilled at the thought of playing cat and mouse with you.

You were groaning frustratedly when your call still doesn't get pick up. Jake is really crazy and you hate for tolerating him at the first place.

"PICK THE FUCK UP. I'M SCARED RIGHT NOW."

"Hello, what's the emergency?"

"HELP ME PLEASE! I'M GETTING CHASED PLEASE HELP ME HE'S GETTING CLOSER."

"Miss, please slow down. We can't really hear you."

"OH GOD SEND THE POLICE THIS MAN IS OBSESSED WITH ME."

You shouted as you were pressing the pedal to increase your speed while looking at the rear mirror to see how near Jake's car to you. You screamed again when suddenly Jake's car got hit from the left by a big truck. The hit made his car ended up upside down. That immediately made you stopped your car as you felt horrible seeing the car crash. The road was empty and it's only you, Jake and the truck driver. You wanted to call the ambulance but stopped yourself before can do and decided to be selfish just one time.

For yourself.

"Ma'am? Is everything okay?"

You went silence. What happened just now made you can't think properly so you hung up on the call and just keep driving leaving the poor truck driver and Jake there.

You finally escape from him.

_____________

_____________

Few years has been passed. You are living a slow life right now with a lovely cat at a bungalow house. After the car crash you witnessed that night, you drove yourself to your parents house but figured out they got murdered and you were sure the dried blood you saw on Jake was them. So, you reported it to the police and they did the investigation however it came to the conclusion that Jake died that night at the car crash. You thought he deserved it for making your life miserable at the first place. But at the same time you feel your life empty because of the loneliness but you keep living and become successful in your job and now you are enjoying your time alone.

You were closing the gate and saw those workers were carrying some furnitures to the house. You also saw a large golden retriever dog running around adjusting itself with the place. Guess you are getting a new neighbour. You turned around and suddenly heard someone called you.

"Hello there, neighbour."

You turned back and saw a very attractive man. His black hair looks so fluffy and his glasses made him more attractive and nerd at the same time. The dog you saw were running around was standing beside him wiggling its tail while looking at you.

"Ah..hello."

"Sorry if I disturbing you. Just want to inform you I will be living at this house. What's your name?"

Ah, why are you suddenly getting blushing Y/n? It's just a man. You see men every single day. You calmed yourself before introducing.

"I am Y/n. What is yours?"

"Jaeyun. My name is Sim Jaeyun."

"Glad to know you, Jaeyun."

"Same goes here." He said as he shook your hand.

Now, your new story finally begin.

Or does it? Really?

Jake was grateful he is still alive after getting hit by the truck. He decided to stay low and get his father's help to prevent him from getting caught and instead make a fake death news about him. He searched the entire world for you. Although he failed many times since you didn't get active on social media but he was glad when that day he found your picture on your friend's Instagram account celebrating your birthday.

He also took a drastic change where he got his face surgically done to look like a whole different person because he knew you will try to run away from him again. Now, he will use different tactic to tackle you.

Right now, he is standing in front of you feels like a dream. The blush on your face made him fluttered. You are so cute he can't wait to lock you up!

No one is going to know. This secret only between him and God.

"Thanks for giving me the second chance, God."

_______

Oh my god😂😂😂 that's intense. In my head its really wild when i imagined it but hopefully you guys get the feels😬😬

Also for the sake of story, the jake before i want you guys to imagine him as this

yes yes i know he is maki from &team but i want yall to imagine this is the "old" jake and

this is the sim jaeyun after he got face surgery okay?

thanks for reading this🥰🥰

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @eeunoia @rowretro @soireegurl

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hello, good morning/afternoon/night.

(this was written with a translator, in case there are spelling errors)

First of all I want to tell you that I adore everything you write and the way you do it.

And second, could I place an order?

I'm still learning how to use Tumblr, so I don't know how to do several things and I don't know if I'm writing this where I should.

I hope it doesn't bother you ir make you feel Uncomfortable!!

Lately I have had some situations in which a...family member...in an indirect and at the same time direct way has told me that I am...overweight/fat...and that has made me feel bad, so only if you want, could you make some headcanon about how Undertale, Underswap, Underfell and Horrortale would react to me believing that.

(I mean, they would deny it and say nice things or they would laugh and make fun of me for it and highlight having a double chin and a belly and stuff like that...)

But of course, if you don't want, of course it's not necessary or if it seems like there are too many characters, you can remove them or if you want ignore this and I'll understand.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

anon, i’m so sorry this happened to you <3 it’s unfair and nobody should have to go through that.

readers gender isn’t specified, but i use “beautiful” and “gorgeous”

Undertale, Underfell, underswap, and horrortale skelebros reacting to a reader who has been fat-shamed

Undertale:

Sans:

-his brow bones would furrow

-“wait a minute, who said that?”

-he’d nod when you tell him

-“listen, they’re wrong. you’re beautiful as you are. now, i don’t want you starting any diets or anything if they would just make you unhappy, because i’ve heard plenty of stories about them being terrible. your family members just plain wrong. ‘kay?”

-he’d hug you if you were still upset

-from then on, he would tell you how gorgeous you were more often

papyrus:

-he would be even more upset than you were, honestly

-someone would DARE say such nasty things about HIS s/o / friend??

-he would storm to their house, knock on the door, and that man WOULD. NOT. BUDGE. until your family member listened to him.

-he would be harsh but obviously be nice about it

underfell:

Sans:

-why do you give a fuck???

-he’s honestly so confused

-like, his brother told him the same thing (which also confused him, seeing as he is a SKELETON) and he just?? didn’t care??

-he tells you to stop giving a fuck

-that’s it

-“why do you give a shit about what they say? their opinions are ass. you look great”

papyrus:

-he doesn’t look up from his book when you say that

-“mm. you could stand to lose a few pounds, i guess”

-(you don’t think he quite realized how hurtful that is)

-if you tell him he’d ask why

-he thinks he’s genuinely looking out for your best interests.

underswap:

sans:

-“they told you WHAT!?”

-he would be FUMING with anger

-but, he would calm himself down enough to reassure you

-he would tell you that you look amazing, and you shouldn’t start a diet that you wouldn’t enjoy just to conform to their standards of beautiful or healthy.

-he would talk to the family member afterwards, angrier than he would normally like to be when resolving a conflict

-you never hear those words from your family member again, trust me

papyrus:

-“fuck ‘em”

-you appear slightly offended that he would say something like that about your family member, so he elaborates

-“they want to police you on how traditionally beautiful or healthy you are. you were happy before that, but now their words have upset you, for something that didn’t need said in the first place. so, fuck ‘em. that’s an asshole move”

-he would not argue this with you

horrortale:

Sans:

-hes so fucking confused

-where he’s from, food is a scarcity, and your family’s bitching about “too much?”

-he contacts your family member, whether that be finding their address from your address book or by finding their phone number on your phone, and gives him a piece of his mind.

-he would rant for HOURS if he could, or if he could keep his train of thought for that long, about how lucky they are for having food in the first place.

-afterwards he would encourage you about how beautiful you are, and how wrong your family member is

papyrus:

-he would look at you with concern

-overweight?

-he won’t pretend to be an expert on human weight, but even if you are “overweight,” that’s a good thing! it means you have access to food!

-that’s SO special to him.

-he would tell you that no matter what your family member thought, you were BEAUTIFUL

-he would be happy to talk to your family member if you wanted him to

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings On Fire Part 2 (Sub!Christian Yu x Fem!dom Reader)

Pairing: Christian Yu/DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1717

Summary: It's been 30 days since you last saw him and he needs to make up for the lost time. You're still delulu af for him, but tonight is all about your pleasure.

Warning: Smut, fem!dom, slight humiliation kink, degradation for Christian calling him bitch and slut, oral sex (fem rec), face strap, face riding, mentions of killing, handcuffing, you're called goddess, fem reader implied but no pronouns used.

Part 1

minors and ageless blogs do not interact. Just put some indication of your age if you're going to engage, please.

"Control me, please. I need you," Christian whimpers for you. His hair is a mess, his eyes are full of darkness, and he's in front of you, begging to be dominated. His hands are restrained.

He's never had a problem relinquishing power over to you. In fact, it was his idea that he wanted to be dommed by you.

Normally, this is all it would take for you to give in to his pleading. He's in your favorite position, on his knees, willing and able to please.

But, for a particular reason, it isn't enough to sway you.

Your lover is desperate for your touch. He needs to feel your fingertips run against his skin more than he requires his next breath.

Yes, he was on the run, but this wasn't his first rodeo, and for knowing him so well, it won't be the last.

Today, was supposed to be a celebration of being able to reunite with each other. Because your man has somehow outsmarted the FBI and the police, and his name is magically no longer on the most wanted list.

You don't ask questions, because these are incriminating details that you can't afford at the moment.

You stand before him and glance down at the man below you. His beautiful dark brown hair is in messy wavy curls, and his knees are on the cold marble floor.

He's shirtless, but he has on sweats. Even through those pants, you can see that he is excited to see you. He is happy to be able to be in your presence.

Yes, you want nothing more than to pounce on your sweet lover, but this is just one problem.

He went completely radio silent on you during this "run."

Which triggered your anxiety more than usual. Every single time your phone rang, you were hoping that it was him to let you know he's safe.

"No," You finally speak after a little bit of time has passed.

It's hard for you not to give in to his wants because you love this man so much. You have blindly decided to meet him at this location in a random ass city, because of your undying loyalty to him. 

You don't even think you could exist without him, which is why those thirty days were harder than expected. Also, because you never knew when they were going to end.

"Goddess," Christian whines in such a deep tone, and his accented plea is so sexy to you. "Please. I need you. All I want to do is serve you. I've had dreams about tasting you and being fucked by you. Please."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Christian sounds so desperate, but truth be told, you liked being desired in this way. "Use me as you will. I know I've been bad."

His whines seem sincere, but you're not convinced yet. He's going to have to prove to you how sorry he is.

"Tell me.. say it. How have you been bad?" You fold your arms, demanding an answer so that you both know why he needs to be punished.

"I neglected you. It wasn't my intention, angel. I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? By ignoring me." You scoff. Tell that to your many sleepless nights wondering if something happened to you.

You walk around the spacious bedroom. Your heels click against the marble floor. Somehow, he's managed to pull off getting a mansion in the middle of nowhere. As you explore the bedroom, your eyes are drawn to the exquisite chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. The luxurious furnishings and tasteful decor reflect his understanding of your appreciation for elegance.

However, deep down, you hope this grand gesture isn't his way of compensating for past mistakes, longing for genuine forgiveness and understanding instead.

You turn to face him again and lift his chin to meet his eyes as he explains his reasoning.

"I had to be extra careful, because I didn't want anything getting tied to you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. I'm madly in love with you, Y/n."

You want to cuss him out, but the truth is your feelings for him are mutual. So, you feel a bit conflicted because no one understands you the way he does. No one can make you feel the way he does.

No one can dominate you like him. No one can submit the way he does. The perks of being with him outweigh all the bullshit of what he does when he's not with you.

For some, the fear is their partners being unfaithful. For you, it's pondering if any of your disloyal exes ever faced Christian's wrath.

"Christian, I'm going to have to punish you."

"I know, goddess. I deserve it and will take whatever you give me."

"Normally, I would just spank you. But, I have something better planned. Now get over here and eat my pussy, bitch."

You sit down on the comfy bed and spread your legs. You watch as he eagerly falls between your legs. He takes his handcuff hands and pushes your dress up one side at a time. You're already not wearing panties for easy access.

Christian laps all your center. He licks across your clit and swirls around until you gush a little. His tongue trails down to catch all your juices.

You moan in pleasure as Christian's expert tongue explores every inch of your sensitive folds.

"Thank you, goddess, for letting me taste you. All I want to be is serve you."

"Yeah, yeah.. talk is cheap. Keep licking until I cum. No more talking until I do."

You're a bit harsh with him, but you know that he loves to be degraded. His mission is to make you orgasm, which you both know he has no problem doing.

Christian savors at your essence. He whimpers as he licks away at your pussy. The taste of you is something that he's been craving for the last thirty days. Every day he's spent without you left him lost in thoughts of fulfilling your desires.

He would have gladly taken the spanking from you. He loves the way you can take charge of the situation. Your ability to switch is something he admires so much.

You continue to enjoy the satisfaction of him practically worshipping you because you're literally a goddess in his eyes.

Christian isn't playing with you. His tongue is working overtime to make sure his goddess cums.

One thing about your man is he knows how to please you. He knows how you like it when he goes fast. He giving you faster licks to the point you have to grab the back of his head because you're approaching your peak.

"Fuck, I'm so close... baby. Just like that!" You cry out.

Before you can utter another word, Christian continues his reluctance pace, bringing you closer to your peak. As you tiptoe closer to your climax, your legs tremble, and you close your eyes to enjoy that final moment before you release.

The intensity of your orgasm rips through you, and you ride the familiar wave that you crave so much. Christian isn't letting up, either. He continues to suck your juices out of your pussy.

He's addicted to the way that you taste. He licks you clean until you push him away from you.

"God, I've missed you, goddess," Christian says, crawling back between your legs to give your pussy a final french kiss because he's so in love with pleasing you.

Christian is the type that you could lock him in a room with you and make him eat you for hours and hours. He would enjoy it more than you, because that's how addicted he is to you. He just wants to please you in any way he can.

Christian lays his head on your thigh, waiting for your next instruction.

"Christian," you call his name.

"Yes, goddess?"

You could see the light in his eyes and his eagerness when he was with you. This is the man that no one else gets to see. This is the side he hides from the world.

"You know... you did a great job giving me head. Which I would expect from a slut like yourself. But, you're not cumming tonight. I am. But, I'll let you fuck me."

"Really, goddess?"

"Yes, with a strap-on. You don't deserve to feel my pussy just yet."

You know that Christian was expecting to get pegged. Maybe he thought he would get a rough pegging session, and you would deny him release. But, you have a point to prove.

"Goddess, I really can't get fucked? I was really waiting for this."

"And I was really waiting to hear from you. Maybe you could earn a chance to get fucked, but until then, get on the bed."

You grab the face strap on and put it on his face so that you can ride his face this time.

"You ready?" you ask him.

"Yes, goddess."

You're still wet from when he ate your pussy, so you position yourself over his face while you ease down onto the strap. You quickly find a rhythm as he pumps from underneath you.

Although you would rather have Christian hard dick inside of you, the strap feels good inside of you. You stroke your clit as you enjoy Christian pleasuring you. 

"You're so eager to make me cum again, huh slut.. you're that desperate to get fucked in the ass?" You degrade him.

"Mmmhm.. yes, goddess. But, my priority right now is just pleasing you. I can't wait to feel your juices drip down my face."

You hold onto the headboard as you ride his face strap-on. Sure, it might be punishment, but Christian is enjoying very moment.

For the second time tonight, you feel the familiar feeling.  Your body tenses up, and a wave of pleasure washes over you as you reach your climax. Your juices coat his face, and now he's glistening with your cum all over his face.

You remove the strap from his face and slip your tongue into his mouth. "You did a great job pleasing me... maybe we could talk about you riding my strap." "I'd like that goddess."

Please reblog if you enjoyed my work! It helps my work get discovered by other readers. I would GREATLY appreciate it!!!

[infernalodie]

Tara Carpenter X Male!Reader

So I had an idea. Basically R and Tara are dating and R has 2 personality's, one personality is the sweet caring and gentle boyfriend/brother/son/Friend. The other personality is the dark, twisted and psychotic man that no one knows about, not even himself( maybe one of his personalities is one of the past killers). Well he sort of has an idea that the killer is him, he realises something is wrong when he hears about a single killer walking around in a mask murdering people- when one day he wakes up with blood covering him.

He goes to the party with Tara, everyone's there. Halfway through he disappears and Tara notices, ghost face pops out and no one knows it's R having an episode. Everyone gangs up on ghost face and they are shocked to see R. But after saying his name, he doesn't respond, and says his name is (whoever you want). They knock him out because they realise something's wrong but they don't take him to the police they tie him up in the basement and sit around waiting for him to wake up. When he does it's R again but he keeps slipping between personalities, R is crying but the other personality is finding joy in the situation- R keeps apologising and the all try and calm him down. R slowly starts to understand what's going on and is just sobbing/begging for help. You can decide how it ends.

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

"𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦? 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸��𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯"

Inspo: XXXTENTACION - Save Me NF - DRIFTING

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Male!reader

Summary: A constant plea for a savour in a world as dark as you saw it...

Warnings: Split personality disorder, murder, angst, character death, and heavily described suicide.

Words: 3453

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

One breath.

It was sharp. Abrupt. Sudden. It made you shoot up and stumble back where your body met a door. Eyes flickering all around you and only finding the oddity of your surroundings being unfamiliar to you. The blue ceramic tiled walls, the rotting sink top, the cracked glass, and the toilet that was foul to your nose.

The longer you took in your surroundings, the more you became apparent of the blackout of memory you’d experienced. And the more you looked, the more fucked up you became by your set of circumstances.

Your eyes looked into the cracked reflection of yourself and found a crimson figure. It was you, covered in blood. Finally looking down at yourself, you choked on your breath. Blood covered you from the top of your head to the bottom of your shoes. The only saving grace was the leather gloves snuggly slipped over your hands. Your grey shirt was stained, denim jeans were splashed and smeared with the blood of someone or something that didn’t belong to you.

“On tonight’s breaking news, landowners, Marie Goldwin and her wife, Kassidy Limberg, were found murdered in their front yard tonight.” That announcement that came from the TV outside of the bathroom made you freeze. “So far, police haven’t been able to give a statement to the community.”

Opening the door, you stepped out into what seemed to be a motel at first glance. It was like every small, run-down motel that no one would go to. But the further you looked across the room, the more you quickly saw the large white tarp that was stapled to the walls and floor, and the thick plastic wrap covering the bed. Then you were able to spot the splash of blood that stuck out like a sore thumb.

“The police have set a curfew for the town until they can figure out what has happened and where to take the next step,” the news anchor added. “So, please, everyone, stay safe.”

“Ahhh, what the fuck?” You muttered, eye twitching as you quickly ran to the front door and locked it. Backing away as you run your hands through your hair. “I was in my car. I was driving to Tara’s and then I…” The ramblings falling from your lips faded as you looked back at the TV and shook your head. “No, I couldn’t have…”

It was dark out, so you might’ve just gotten here. In some weird faded memory that you had no knowledge of, maybe you went out of your way and murdered those two women. Maybe you had something to drink or took something that didn’t kick in until then. What fucking happened between 7 PM to now?

You took the time to have a shower and wash off every droplet of blood from your skin. The drain swept the crimson away and into the pipes that would hide away the first step of your contribution to a murder. But you wouldn’t accept this because you weren’t capable of this. This wasn’t you and everyone would know that. Yet, you couldn’t take any chances. You’ve watched YOU, and you know the steps that need to be taken. So, thank god there were cleaning chemicals under the sink and your vehicle parked out front.

So, doing what you could, you carefully folded up the tarp, placing your shirt in the center before quickly rushing it out and placing it in the bed of your truck. Hiding it behind the toolbox and spare tire before going back inside and taking bleach to everything. There was no way to be sure what you could’ve touched before you came to, so you took it to the carpet, bathroom, tv, the remote, door handles- everything! You couldn’t be too safe.

And it hurt you in a way to be doing this. The fact that you just wanted to run, but were covering your tracks. You felt more like the perpetrator than the innocent. So, in a way, you were helping in a murder that you didn’t commit. Unless you did, but you couldn’t have. Never in your life did you ever want to hurt someone in the way that those two landowners suffered. It must be a frame job and be placed on you, someone who was trying to get through school and love his girlfriend wholeheartedly.

Yet, here you were, rushing out of the motel with the room keys tight in your grasp as you slid into the driver's seat. Starting up the vehicle just as your eyes were drawn to four garbage bags in the passenger seat. Your jaw clenched, swallowing the lump in your throat as you hesitantly pulled the hem back to be greeted by two lifeless eyes and the foul stench of blood and rotting flesh. You gagged, pushing your truck door open and vomiting.

You could already tell this would be a long night.

“You okay?”

You lift your gaze from the streets that were slowly becoming the same the longer you drove. They flicker to Tara who sat in the passenger seat of your car, accommodating you to the party Amber was hosting.

“Yeah,” you dismiss forcefully.

Tara purses her lips, looking down at her hands. Dragging her nails gently across the back of her hand. “Are you sure?” She prods further, seeing if there is an opening that she might be able to expose.

“If you want to say something Tara, then do it,” you say softly as possible.

She lets out an exhale flow through her nose, shaking her head. “You just have seemed… off,” she mutters. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

It took almost all your willpower to not make it apparent that there was something very clearly bothering you. Ever since the death of the landowners and you waking up in that Motel, things in Woodsboro had been growing tenser and unpredictable. Killings were now happening every few weeks and the bodies were continuing to add up to a small hill. Police were doing patrols around town and there were rumours of FBI agents starting to catch word of the massacre going on in the small town.

So, to say you were bothered would be an understatement. And with how frequent these blackouts had started becoming, you were beginning to suspect the worse of yourself.

“Nothing that you need to worry about.” You smiled, reaching over and grasping one of her hands, squeezing tenderly. It gave you the chance to see Tara smile, seemingly dropping the conversation and allowing her to soak up the warmth of your calloused hand.

The party was going strong by the time you and Tara arrived. Each step out away from the safety of your vehicle made the sound of music and the flashing lights of the windows grow brighter. And when you stepped inside, you instantly regretted leaving your house.

A harsh wave of heat hit your face. Music blasting at full max blinds your senses and the flashing lights discombobulate your vision. You couldn’t help yourself when you harshly rubbed your eyes, hoping that the dark lighting and sudden flashes would be something you became adjusted to.

Tara’s hand met your forearm, shaking you from the daze of the party you didn’t even want to attend. Her lips barely grazed the shell of your ear as she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling. Pulling the back hem of your pants and sighing as you leaned down to her ear. “I just need the bathroom really quick.”

She nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, her touch lingering for a moment before she parted from your side when seeing Chad and Amber. You exhaled heavily, forcing yourself up the steps and toward the upstairs bathroom. Feeling that all too familiar flicker of your vision deviating. The strength in your body is slowly being extracted just as you reach the top of the stairs. And once you reach that bathroom door, stumbling inside with the darkness being your only friend, you were consumed by it.

“Has Y/n seemed…off to you?” Tara asked aloud to the group, who were all gathered around the table. Each holding a drink in their hands with their face seeming to share the same unbeknownst look that Tara couldn’t relate to. “He hasn’t been himself for months. Texts have been less and calls are as frequent as they were.”

“Maybe he is messing around with a new chick.” Chad’s drunken comment earned a firm slap upside the head from his sister. Mindy sent him a look that made him purse his lips, exhaling heavily. “I mean, nothing has seemed out of the ordinary for me, at least. Still shows up to school. Still works at the music store. What is it that you think is wrong with him?”

“Well, for starters. He said he would be back after going to the bathroom, but that’s been an hour ago.” Her words were sharp and pierced each of them with realization.

None of them had been aware that it had been that long. Maybe they’d been so caught up in talking and ushering all the kids out of the house, and cleaning that they forgot you had even been here. But Tara trusted in you saying you were fine. Then again, maybe you just needed to head home and rest.

“Are you sure he didn’t text you telling you he was heading home or anything?” Amber inquired, seeming uninterested in her friend's relationship troubles.

“Or maybe he’s still in the bathroom?” Liv said with a scowl, shrugging.

But then there was a painful grinding of metal against metal. The screech made the others cringe as they looked in the direction of where the sound came from. And within the shadows they found a lingering dark figure. Yet, they all could see the glint of light bouncing off of a blade.

And before anyone could get a word out, the figure came running at them, revealing Ghost face. They went charging at Chad, sending him flying into the counter. A yell fell from the boy’s lips, quickly grabbing the killer's wrists as they tried to plunge the knife into him.

The others were quick to grab weapons and hit the killer. It was enough to knock the killer to the ground with a groan after Amber hit them over the head with a chair. Knocking the mask and making everyone freeze in their steps.

“Y/n?” Liv muttered, brows scrunching together in confusion.

But instead of guilt or fear, you smiled. “Name’s Samael, sweetheart.”

Chad took it upon himself to kick you in the face, knocking you out. Silence fell over the room, everyone staring at your unconscious body. Tara wanted to scramble over and hold you. Question where you had been and if this was some sick type of joke. But the unsettling feeling that had been in her stomach for months was apparent. And this might be the cause of it.

“We can’t keep him here or take him home,” Tara explained. “Check his car keys. He keeps a key to the music store. Maybe he take him there.”

Mindy quickly reached into your pockets and pulled out your keys. Everyone quickly made a way to grab you and get you to someone's vehicle. But the entire time Tara tried to figure out what was going on with you. Why did you say your name was Samael? Why were you killing people? How long had you been doing this until you stopped caring?

“Oh, what the fuck is this?” Chad muttered, staring at the cage that was built in the center of the basement. Lights above giving

“What does it matter? We have to get him in there before he wakes up,” Mindy told her brother, helping Amber and Liv carry your unconscious body down the steps and toward the cage. Finding a key stuck in the lock, they pulled the door open and placed your body inside. Ushering out before locking it behind them.

Tara ran her hands through her hair. “Ok, what do we do now?” She asked frantically. “Do we call the police? Do we wait until he wakes up?”

“What the fuck do you mean, Tara?” Amber exclaimed. “The better question; what the fuck is wrong with Y/n and building some Saw level cage in the basement of the music store? And is he the killer?”

“There’s no doubt about it,” Chad commented, glancing at the others. “I mean, he was wearing the Ghost face outfit, Tara. He tried to kill me! The blood on the fucking ground! And he called himself “Samael”? We have no choice but to call the police-”

Hearing the sound of groan sound through the basement made them all spin toward the cage. You stirred, running a hand over your face, hissing with your head shooting up abruptly. “Fuck. My head…”

As your eyes flickered open, you caught sight of your friends. Fear spilled from the brims of their eyes. It caused you to slowly sit up and finally take in the surroundings. A cage. Something so familiar and identical to YOU. “What the fuck?” Shooting up to your feet, you looked around before your eyes found Tara. “Baby, what the fuck is going on?”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” Chad exclaimed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this some sort of joke? Were you really trying to kill me back there?”

But hearing your friend's questions made you frown. Unable to remember what had led you to be locked in a cage. Then there was the feeling back from when you hid that body. The knowledge that something else stirred inside of you that you had no way of knowing if it was real or not.

“I’m scared, guys,” you admitted, walking toward the glass. Tears beginning to bubble over the brims of your eyes. “I don’t know what I did. Guys, I don’t know what is wrong with me. Did I hurt anyone?”

“Why did you kill them, Y/n?” Tara wept, sitting on her knees. Your warm eyes were spilling over with tears of your own as you shook your head. But just like before, you tensed up, eyes rolling back with your head rolling back slightly with Samael coming to the surface.

“I don’t thrive on the killing, Tara,” he said, a gentle hum in his throat, rising from the spot Y/n had found in front of the glass. Beginning to pace back in forth where the others watched from behind Tara. All of them were disturbed by this new discovery of what sat beneath your smiles and soft words. “I fucking live for it. I mean, the first time I killed, it was wrong. I know that. But, fuck, did it feel fucking amazing to shut that stupid bitch up.”

Seeing Tara physically shiver in either fear or disgust satisfied Samael. It buoyed him. Allowed him to feel some sort of power in this situation when he and you were both at risk of what these teenagers might be willing to keep Woodsboro safe.

Tara pursed her lips, nose twitching as she bowed her head, eyes flickering shut. “Samael, can you please let me talk to Y/n?”

“Oh, but this is a question for me, isn’t it?” He asked, lips quirking into a grin. “Y/n isn’t capable of killing. We both know that.” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, shaking his head with a laugh. “But he’s becoming desensitized by it, Tara. It’s only a matter of time before he and I become one.”

“Just leave him be, Sam!” Tara pleaded. “He doesn’t deserve the shit you’re putting him through. You’re just a fucking infection that’s going to get him killed.”

Samael pouts mockingly, crouching in front of the glass opposite Tara. “And here I thought that after everything Y/n’s done to stay with you, you would love the both of us the same,” he said, hands resting against the glass as he draws his face closer toward the divider.” I mean, that little shit helped me hide a body that I cut up into tiny bits just so he could make it to your place on time. Hell, maybe we could be a fucked up murdering trio with due time.”

Tara shook her head in denial. “He’s not going to end up like you,” she spat. “We’re going to block you out somehow. I won’t allow him to be a monster like you.”

Again, that familiar tenseness in your body appeared. The once stoic, boisterous nature that Sameal held disappeared with your trembling. “Samael, just please.” You leaned back on your knees, staring up at the ceiling of the cage. “Stop. I can’t do this.”

“Y/n, it’s my time!” Samael yelled, rising to the surface. “You’ve had your chance at the wheel. I let you deliver what you could, but it wasn’t enough. You had a great ride, but it’s my turn to give the people of Woodsboro something to remember.”

“This is my life-!”

Your words and presence were ripped away once again with Samael unable to contain the mocking laugh that fell from his lips. “Oh, my God! Do you even hear yourself, man?” He questioned. “For 18 years, you have been dragging your feet telling everyone that you’ll be fine. Promising progress, but where is it at now, Y/n? Where are the wonders of the Adderall pills you had been promised? Because all they’ve shown is that I’ve become more involved since!”

Beneath the surface, you were trembling, fighting and hoping to reach some sort of precipice that might enlighten you of a way to stave off Samael. But the longer you sat in this dark void, oblivious to what is happening beyond through the windows that Samael continued to take claim of, you realized how far hope really was. It was intangible.

So, as the needles of revelation stabbed into your veins, injecting the gravity of the situation, you pushed yourself to the surface. The ringing in your ears, the adrenaline, clouded everything outside of your thoughts. Blocking out the voices that might pull you toward a hopeless state.

And Tara watched as you scrambled toward the small box that Samael used for his victims. A one-way compartment that you guessed was used to give food or drinks. The edge was sharp and blunt. But not too blunt that a direct impact would do the damage you needed.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?” Samael called out.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared at the edge before exhaling slowly. “Stopping you.”

There wasn’t a warning for anyone when you swung your head down upon the edge. The sickening crack and wet sound filled the air, making everyone gasp in shock. Tara’s lips were parted with the bubbling of nausea forming when you lifted your face, revealing your forehead split open, blood sliding down your forehead. Slipping down the curve of your eye socket and invading your vision. A quiet hiss falls from your lips. But it didn’t amount to painstakingly harsh pound echoing in each and every part of your skull.

“Stop!” Samael screamed. “You don’t want to do this, Y/n! This won’t just kill me, you’ll kill yourself. Think about Tara! I’ll stop, man. Just don’t do this!”

With your mind forming a heavy haze and eyes becoming blinded by your blood, you managed one final glance toward Tara. Seeing the fear and desperation to do something, but didn’t have the strength to move. Caught within her own mind and the shock of you standing there, on the brink of death to end this torment you’d been unaware of until tonight.

And came with a heavy heart to stare at her anymore. Hoping that even if no words were spoken, you wouldn’t blame her for anything she couldn’t have done. Because even if she’d liked to save you, the damage was already done.

“Fuck it.”

Tara saw you roll your head back and she felt her eyes widen. Finally being grounded and screaming, “No-!” But it was too late, your head saved in on the edge of the surface and you hit the ground with a loud thud. A whimper fell from Tara’s lips as she saw your lifeless eyes stare back at her. Your forehead caved in and your face became unrecognizable by the blood that seeped from the wound.

One of the most important parts of her life was now covered in blood from her lack of assistance that she had no way of helping you through.

[trans-axolotl]

I went to the anarchist/abolitionist healthcare conference this weekend, and it was really a beautiful experience that I don't even have words for. Being able to share resources, knowledge, dreams, and joy together with other people invested in this work was so special, and I gained a ton of hope by seeing the many ways that other people are actively engaged in resisting these fucked up systems and building care into our communities. I gave a presentation about psych abolition, talked about resistance within the psych ward, and got a standing ovation from a room filled with 50 people, many of whom were mental health professionals looking to build solidarity. I legitimately almost cried because of being to have that experience with my mad comrades. I met so many beautiful crazy people who intimately understand what it means to survive as a mad person, and just gained so much knowledge from people actively putting their abolitionist values into practice. I want to share a few of my favorite resources that I became aware of at this conference, and I'll make another post later with some of my key takeaways.

Mutual Aid Self/Social Therapy: This is a support framework designed by one of my friends that provides an intentional structure for providing therapetuic support within communities, especially organizing communities where there's a lot of burnout. It offers so many resources for skills training to allow anyone, whether you have a background in emotional support or not, to set this up within your community. The framework is purposefully not hierarchial or transactional, and allows for actually addressing people's material conditions as well as providing space for emotional processing.

Of Unsound Mind: Incredible archive and research on psychiatric history. Mostly focused around America, but also has some info on other countries. The author of the website will be coming out with a book later this year, which I think is mostly going to be about the Trieste, Basaglia, and that history of psych resistance in Italy.

Power makes us Sick: Collective that focuses on autonomous healthcare and emotional support, especially in terms of autonomous trans healthcare. Has some fabulous zines and resources.

A Corpse among Corpses: Incredible documentary about asylum graveyards in the Midwest and the trade of graverobbing for experimentation in medical schools, and how this connects to settler colonialism, slavery, eugenics, and modern gentrification. Really do want to emphasize a trigger warning for genocide, eugenics, medical violence, self harm, antiblack racism, instituionalization, and lots of discussion of death. I talked a lot with the filmmakers, and really appreciated their care and intent in making this film as a way of bearing witness rather than exploiting atrocity in the name of art, but do want to be very clear that this film is incredibly heavy to watch and might be something worth doing with other people. It was deeply impactful for me, and made me tear up many times.

The Living Museum: Through transforming the old Creedmoor hospital grounds into a musuem and workspace for current patients to showcase their art, this space celebrates psychiatric resistance, transformation, struggle, and joy. I really want to go visit and share in that space, as it seems just so fucking cool. It seems like you might need to contact directly to schedule a visit.

Cahoots Crisis Response Model: This is one model for crisi intervention teams that respond instead of police. They are not perfect, still have some enagement with police, but are an interesting example of how to try to implement these types of programs. Since theyv'e been around for 25 years, they have a lot of knoweldeg and could be a good first group to reach out to if you're trying to create this in your community.

Overall this whole weekend was a beautiful example of how to put our values into practice, and really just wanted to share these projects with you all!

[notmorbid]

miss subways.

dialogue prompts from miss subways: a novel by david duchovny.

every day here is like a new stanford experiment.

my inner judge never has rehabilitation in mind.

if i'm not busy learning or being born, i'm busy dying.

you want me here, but then you want to ignore me.

one step forward, one half-step back.

i like the phrase 'making love'.

fuck you, asshole.

to the victors go the nomenclature.

gods are immortal, so they're patient.

not even i can stomach scientology.

what is the sound of one hand clapping?

i don't want to be famous. i don't have the clothes for it.

my identity can't be longer than a tweet.

i saw an opening. i decided to be the bad guy.

you're not going to start biting the heads off live bats, are you?

it's true, then. you can't take it with you.

you worried so hard for so long.

i'm sorry, i didn't get your last name.

you called me? what are you, 103 years old?

jesus would not go to nobu.

i don't mind you thinking outside the box. i mind you thinking outside of my box.

either lie down completely or stand the fuck up. it's gonna kill you in the middle.

you sound like oprah, except mean.

i want to live my life, not document it on instagram.

you lie to yourself and you lie to me.

to save something, something must be sacrificed. that's the way it goes.

we can't police our dreams. don't judge.

it felt like a death.

if i own something long enough, i start ascribing feelings to it.

that billy shakespeare, he got everywhere first.

i'm a reader, not a writer.

come on, let's get you cleaned up.

did i call you last night?

i was a different person with a different life. i've never had a dream like that.

there's nothing more boring than listening to somebody else's dream.

i can be a good shrink or a good friend. not both. choose.

i can't remember the last time i got laid.

don't be such a pussy.

i feel like i'm coming up short.

this is no time to come out of the closet.

was i a disappointment to you?

i like seeing things the way i do.

which version is the real you?

don't worry. there won't be a quiz.

the future is as random and fated as the past.

so much of life necessitates looking away.

have you been crying?

you forgot your trigger warning.

what i want has very little to do with anything.

spare me the faux shame.

when do the exceptions just pile up and make a new rule?

i like structure. i like to know i've done my homework.

i have to go to confession.

i don't know what to pray for.

the prayer is the god.

you stabbed a priest?

i need to change the past.

i'm losing you to that place you go.

shut the front door!

what would the perfect life look like?

you have the coolest, most beautiful eyes i've ever seen.

sing you to sleep? i don't really know any songs.

you don't know any songs? that's not possible.

i think i've always wanted to be taken advantage of by a gigolo.

you seem too smart to be an actor.

little lies make bigger lies possible.

there's something you're not saying.

there's a lot i'm not saying. i'm sure there's a lot you're not saying, too.

take the reins. write your own story.

i'm sorry you heard that.

i screwed up. you're not gonna love me anymore.

we all know better, but we're human. we screw up.

how do we know our character unless we step outside it and look its way, now and then?

is it my business? you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.

i feel tall enough to ride this rollercoaster.

maybe you don't see yourself the way i see you.

you understand fine. you're just too nervous to comprehend.

people fall in love in difficult circumstances. most songs are about it.

let's agree on a moratorium on questions like "how did you know?".

well, stop guessing. start knowing.

just because i'm funny doesn't mean i'm not lethal.

you're already in the game. you have no choice but to play on.

don't tell me what i want. don't put words in my mouth.

where has playing by the rules gotten you?

maybe you have more power than you think you do.

one of the lies we tell children is that reason will get them through this life.

in order to love, you have to know what death is.

as first kisses go, i've had worse.

there's such a thing as too much history.

i want to be with you, but not like this.

i'm quite forgettable. that's like, the most memorable thing about me.

do you actually believe in past lives?

this conversation requires more wine than i currently have.

is there something else you'd like to ask? i get the feeling there is.

[philsmeatylegss]

Hiii I just saw a post Abt the v day video and how it's fucked up and such and I was just wondering why? I found it a few years ago but it was just kinda cute tbh what's wrong with it? Lmao I'm definitely a newer phan, I only started really following their stuff in like 2017 so I don't know too much about early dnp lol

Oh fuck I’m old

I think it’s safe enough to finally talk publicly about it.

Basically the vday video was a video Phil made for Dan for Valentine’s Day. He uploaded it privately onto his YouTube channel which Dan had the password to so Dan could see it. At this time, Dan was on vacation (pretty sure in India) and he wouldn’t have been able to see a video of that quality just through text or email. Shitty luck, the same time he privately uploaded it, infamous YouTube glitch happened where all private videos became public. And one of the videos that went public was the v day video.

There’s a lot of jokes about Dan in 2012, but it’s actually really depressing. Dan wasn’t out yet and he had a fuck ton of trauma surrounding his sexuality. 2012 is when dnp started blowing up enough to where they became part of popular early YouTube so people saved the v day video when it was uploaded.

They’ve only addressed it a few times in which they said it was an April Fool’s prank, which obviously doesn’t make sense, but what were they supposed to say? According to legend, people would keep reuploading the video and Phil would spend hours taking them down one by one and it would say “AmazingPhil took down this video for copyrite.”

It was a catalyst to just a really shitty period for dnp. All aggressively heterosexual clips from Dan’s liveshows are my 2012. “FYI I like vagina” is 2012. People were contacting his 14 year old brother to ask about him and Phil. That alone is both fucked up to drag a kid into this, but remember that Dan still wasn’t out to his family. It was probably so fucking terrifying when his YouTube life, especially regarding his sexuality and relationship, clashed with his family life for the first time.

There’s a noticeable difference between their relationship in videos from 2009-2011 and 2012-2015. And it is most likely because dnp blew up pretty big in 2012 and started going from making YouTube videos for fun to doing it as a job with the added pressure of millions watching. And the catalyst, or at least metaphorical catalyst, from the switch between being openly touchy feely giggles to strict, five feet apart mates is considered to be the vday vid.

It was a big problem in the phandom since it was leaked to around 2017ish. A lot of people were circulating it and word was that they were still being taken down years later, implying that Phil was still searching for the video years later.

The phandom used to be primarily 12-16 year olds. And when you’re that age, speaking from experience, you don’t understand the complexities of the situation and just kinda thought “teeheehee phan is real XD.” When in reality, it was a very sensitive and serious thing that wasn’t meant to ever be seen by the public. It’s literally where the cherry lube and kissing at the Manchester Eye reference is from.

Rightfully so, the video became more and more taboo to mention and most people caught on that it was a shitty thing to upload or share it. It used to be really taboo and affectionately was often referred to as “the video that shall not be named.”

It honestly has a backstory that is so story-like that it seems unreal. So much had to happen for it to be leaked and the impact it had on them was so large it’s like a black hole in phandom history.

It’s possible not all of this is accurate, this is just the basic lore of it. So while I don’t think the internet police will drag you to prison for saying you watched the vday video, this is the context behind it. Do with it what you will.

Spending your entire preteen, teen, and now 20s as a phannie will fry your brain in unimaginable ways. I knew this off the top of my head😭

[pumpumdemsugah]

I'm extremely bothered by the way I've seen other Black women talk about misogynoir and Megan Thee Stallion. Some of you are acting like her body is all those ugly things and not that she's targeted because society has pinned those things to her. I feel like some Black women are at the point where they believe the race science about Black women's bodies and it's because many of you are misogynist. I don't see this racist behaviour towards Black men when people are being racist about their bodies. You understand it's a racist smear campaign to justify police brutality but the gendered version happens to Black women some of you are so close to saying Black women are hypersexual big darkies.

People seem to understand that when a Black boy or man is shot by police, they focus on his body to invoke racist rationalisation not because he was any of those things and often they lie. Some of you are so hyper focused on Femininity you're making up shit with regards to Black history. The whites were arguing if we even counted as people, them thinking we're not proper women was because of the idea of the uncivilised Black savage, not because of genuine gender confusion. The uncivilised needed them to enslave us for our own good. How have we marginalised the role of slavery in how Black women are seen because you want to be disingenuous about the nature of how and why Black women are masculised to make a vague statement that won't scare the whites ?

Women that are hypersexualised aren't treated with kindness or dignity, they're seen as public property that doesn't have the right to complain about anything, which is the way Black women are seen. Many of you have decoupled misogyny and racism when talking about Black women and it's crazy. Do you like yourselves?

Even though the likes of Taylor Swift is taller than Megan, people talk about her like that because she's a curvy tall sexual woman that's a part of a group of women ( Black women ) that are hypersexualised because of the legacy of mass rape during slavery and the sexual abuse of Black women after. Let's recentre that

Slave masters argued that Black people could not feel pain and used that as the basis to experiment on enslaved Black women by cutting them open without anaesthetic and cracking the heads of Black babies open. What part of, they want to abuse us are some people not getting ? I don't think some people really understand what the word dehumanisation means. The hyper-visibility of Blackness means we get targeted, not because we are big Black animals. Some feel like big Black animals and desperately want to normalise your self loathing as a quality of Blackness

Find self respect and focus less on getting attention on social media. I'm sick and tired of seeing slavery and gender brought up in the same sentence only to watch people use buzzwords to say Black people are built big and scary and not talk about white supremacy, the mass rape of enslaved Black women...fucking anything that will make the white people you want to pay attention to you feel bad so you stretch " doesn't fit eurocentric gender norms" as a stand in the fact you internalised race science about your own body and want to drag all Black women into your self hatred instead of learning to see being a black woman as a fundamentally normal way human beings exist.

Talk about yourself and other Black women like people not political props to project self loathing onto

[medusapelagia]

Learning to Love 2

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,..)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve /Billy Tags: enemies to lovers, mention of parent's death (Steve's mom), mention of domestic violence Words: 1870

Harrington's place is a solitary house in the middle of nothing, surrounded by the woods and nothing else. Billy appreciates the privacy; no noisy neighbors that might call the police if they hear a few screams, like it wasn’t a normal thing, and no one around to see him limp the day after. Not bad at all.

Neil was even proud of him when he told him that he was going to tutor the richest boy in town.

He literally said, "Kid, I'm proud of you." Which is a first in Billy's life.

If the big house and the heated pool didn't give away how rich Harrington's family is, the doorbell would, it sounds like the doorbell they have in the old big mansions and Billy is almost expecting a butler in a pressed uniform showing him the living room instead of his schoolmate.

"You came." Harrington says, almost surprised.

"Told you I would. Are you disappointed, pretty boy?"

Steve shrugs, moving from the door and gesturing to Billy to get inside. The house is super modern and cold, the living room seems ready to be the set of a sitcom, the kitchen is so clean that it almost shines and Steve's room is the most boring room he has ever seen; there is nothing personal, not a trinket, a picture, a sporting trophy, nothing at all, just a desk and few books there are lying on the side.

"Do you want something to drink?" Steve asks, annoyed.

"I'm not here for a courtesy visit, I'm here to help you because you are too stupid to do your fucking homework and you need a babysitter." Billy snarls, ready to fight, but Steve doesn't take the bait, he sits at his desk and stares at his books.

"Where would you like to start?" He asks, pointing at the pile of books.

"What do you need more help with?"

"Math."

"Let's start there."

Steve takes his book and opens it, staring at the first problem.

"Come on! It is an easy one!" Billy sighs, taking the book and quickly solving the problem while Steve stares blankly at him "Can you just concentrate a little for Christ's sake! You didn't even write the right numbers! Are you stupid? Can't you copy some fucking numbers?"

Steve flinches, moving away from Billy. Billy sighs, this is not going well. He takes a deep breath and thinks about the waves of the ocean, trying to calm himself and when he feels a little bit settled he asks "Why... why didn’t you write the correct numbers?"

"I did!" Steve replies, "I can copy some stupid numbers, ok?"

Billy stares at him for a long moment and he sees how the boy squints while reading.

"Do you wear glasses?" He asks and Steve glares at him.

"Of course I don't, jackass!"

"Well, maybe you should. Have you seen a doctor recently?" After Billy broke a plate on his head.

"I... I don't like doctors." Steve confesses blushing in embarrassment.

“Are you scared of doctors?” Billy mocks him and Steve turns his face, avoiding Billy’s stare “Are you serious?” 

“I’m not scared… I just… I don't like them.”

Billy stares at him for the longest time before Steve finally cracks. “When mom went to the hospital… she never came back, ok? I know that’s stupid but I can’t deal with the smell of disinfectant ok? And I’m young and healthy, I don’t need a doctor!”

Billy can understand the fear of the doctors, the few times Neil brought him there with a broken arm or to fix his nose, he was always terrified that those doctors, who asked so many questions about how he got hurt, would have taken him away. Living with Neil was no fun, but living in a foster family didn’t sound much better either.

“I’m not saying you should do a complete checkup, I’m just suggesting that you might want to see an eye doctor, so maybe everyone will stop thinking that you’re stupid.”

“I don’t give a shit about what everyone else thinks about me! I was their fucking god and now what? You came to town, took my place and all my friends forgot about me. I guess they weren’t my friends after all and you are not my friend either! And I don’t need to study all this stupid shit because I’m going to work with my father as soon as I get out of high school! So what the fuck do you want from me? I’ll give you a good review, I’ll say that you were the best tutor ever. Let me copy you from your test and we’ll be good!”

Billy shakes his head “No.”

“What?!”

“No. I will not let you copy from me and I don’t give a fuck about your stupid opinion of my tutoring skills. I just gave you a suggestion, you don’t want to follow it? Fine.” Billy replies, ready to get back to his place. Harrington is avoiding his stare, he is clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles are white.

“Stop being such a baby. You can’t take any criticism!”

“What about you? You come here, to my house, telling me that I’m either stupid or blind! What did you expect?” Steve snaps.

Billy gets up, grabs his things, and pushes them in his backpack. Fuck Harrington! Billy doesn’t have to help him! He doesn’t owe him anything! It’s not his fault if his sight is shitty!

Only… maybe it is.

Only… Steve actually tried to help Max.

Only… Billy is not the dickhead he pretends to be.

“I could… I could come with you.” He suggests, keeping his back to Harrington, his hand on the handle of the door.

“And what? Hold my hand like a fucking child?” Steve snarls, throwing what’s left on the desk to the ground.

Billy dares to turn, this time it’s Steve who has his back turned. “If that’s what you need.” Billy steps forward, not daring to touch the other boy but wanting to let him know that he is there, that he is listening “Where is your father?”

“Russia? China? Don’t remember. He must have written it on the calendar, I don’t really check anymore.” Steve replies and Billy sighs. He never really understood how lonely Steve must feel now that his friends have turned their back on him and even his girlfriend left him.

“Was she worth it?” Billy asks, and Steve’s shoulders stiffen “Was she worth losing your privileges? And your friends?”

“If I lost my friend it is not her fault. She is… She was… well, she was everything I wanted, the only problem was that I wasn’t enough for her.” Steve says in a self-deprecating tone. “It’s the story of my life. I’m not bad, but I’m never enough, no matter how hard I try. Even my father thinks that I’m not enough and he should know, right? He is my father.”

Billy gets closer to Steve and forces him to turn toward him, “Listen to me. You are the only one who knows your worth, ok? Not Wheeler, not your father, not those stupid boys at school! And if you keep repeating to yourself that you are not enough, you’ll end up believing that! So look me in the eye and tell me something good about you.”

Steve tries to free himself from Billy’s grip “What the fuck? I don’t do this stupid shit. If I needed a therapist…”

“Look me in the eye and tell me something good about yourself.” That’s a game Billy’s mother made with him every time Neil belittled him, and it worked every single time.

“I… I…”

“One thing, I know you can do it.”

“I’m… I’m brave.”

Billy smiles “Yes, you are. Good job, Harrington.” He tells him, patting his back, ready to leave.

“Hey…” Steve calls him, finally getting up from the chair. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I was going to order pizza and watch a movie.”

Billy stops, wondering if Neil would get mad at him “Can I call home? I’m not sure if Susan already cooked.”

“Sure. The phone is in the living room.”

Billy and Steve get downstairs and Billy calls home, it’s Susan who answers and tells him that Neil is not home yet but that he can stay out for dinner, he just has to be home by ten. 

They order pizza and watch a movie and for Billy it is the first time ever. He never invited anyone to his place and he didn’t get invited much, always too unpredictable to be invited to someone’s home. Maybe that’s why he and Steve are perfect; Steve feels like he is not enough, and Billy feels that he is too much.

“Will you book a visit to the eye doctor? I’ll drive you.” Billy asks while they are watching an action movie.

“I don’t know.”

It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either, so Billy nods and goes back home. As soon as he enters his father calls him, asking him where he was, and when he tells him that he was at Harrington’s house his father seems really pleased. “Those rich boys are always stupid, aren’t they? But my boy is so clever that he is the one who is going to help that stupid kid. You’ll do great things, I know, you are just like me.”

Every time that Neil says that they are similar Billy feels some disgust about himself. He doesn't want to be like Neil, and even if he knows that his outbursts are so similar to the one his father has, he is trying his best not to become like him. Waking up one day and seeing Neil Hargrove in the mirror is Billy’s greatest fear. Not being beaten to death by his father, not getting married to a woman he will never love because he likes boys, not being trapped in a life he knows he will hate every single day. The only thing that terrifies him, the only ones he prays from every night, kneeling on the side of his bed, folded hands and eyes closed, is not becoming like his father. 

He always lived a life where he was always ready to fight for dominance and he is so tired of being alert at all times.

Max is sitting next to Susan, watching a television show together, “Steve’s house is so cool, right? Did you see the heated swimming pool?”

“We studied, I wasn’t there to have fun.”

“I know…” Max snorts “I just thought that maybe… but you are right. You are no fun!” She rebukes, finally leaving him alone.

Billy’s room is full of music posters, he has a big stereo and a vanity made with plastic crates where his few precious belongings rest: a strong male perfume, the same brand his mother bought him years ago, and the golden necklace he received as a gift for his christening.

He stares at himself in the mirror, somehow he feels a little bit less angry and skittish, is it possible that spending time with Harrington might really be beneficial for both of them?

[raelle-writing]

The reality is that most kids would be either a Fluke or Jin. If nothing else it’s because they don’t also want to be bullied or ostracized by their friends. You can criticize the choices that Jin makes but realize that he is also a child that doesn’t yet have the maturity and wisdom of an adult. I see this group of teens and their treatment of Non as a cautionary tale. Obviously this is ultimately a horror/thriller so everything is heightened to the extreme. Therefore I don’t have an issue with the gore, mayhem and fantastical elements. But this type of bullying could and does happen in real life sometimes with devastating tragedies. So I do wish that people on social media were more careful of the terms they use and directly harassing your character is not a good look. Hurling insults behind a computer screen hurts just as much as doing it in person. (IMO) The fact that they are essentially bullying you is ironic considering what DFF is about.

There is a certain irony to watch the fandom turn into bullies in defense of the bullied character. I understand being defensive of the characters you like (I'm defensive of Jin in case you haven't noticed lol). But I understand why people don't like him. I've never justified all of his actions, but I do genuinely think people are too hard on him a lot of the time.

And I also wish all the Non defenders would have a bit of nuance about his character too because he's a victim, but that doesn't exempt him from hurting others. I'll never say he cheated because I beleive we shouldn't apply that word to a situation involving coercion and power imbalances. But Non does still get his friends arrested. And he does lie to and gaslight Phee. And those are okay things to acknowledge while still having sympathy for him as a character.

I agree with you. I think most people wouldn't even do as much as Jin tbh because while he doesn't do enough arguably, he does a lot as far as defending Non over and over and over (even up until after Non disappears he's still snapping at his friends to address Non by his name). And it's really hard to be that level of defiant to your peers constantly. It's waaaaaaay easier to be Fluke and look the other way and tell yourself that you're not involved then, even if you could stop it.

Everyone online seems to have a hero complex and think they'd do the Absolute Right Thing even when there's no clear right thing in certain situations, and then they demonize these teenagers for not doing those things. (I made a thread on Twitter talking about Jin lying to the police and police corruption in the DFF narrative and in Thailand in general, including linking to a bunch of Thai tweets that talk about that and I got people replying to me saying that they live in countries with police corruption but they still would've told the truth to the police even if they would've disappeared and I got a good laugh out of that. It's so easy to be the hero in your head in a hypothetical situation, but reality is a lot harder than that).

Yeah, I don't know why this particular fandom seems to be so caught up on "if you like a character that I view as morally bad then YOU are a bad person" especially considering the audience crossover to the KPTS fandom like. Were you mad at all of the mafia boys doing mafia things in KPTS becaussssssse that was worse than a lot of what's happening in DFF so far ahahahaha

Anyway, I'm not ever going to demand that everyone likes Jin. I don't particularly care of people like him or not as long as they're not coming after ME about it. I wish people were a little less... vitriolic about the mistakes of teenagers, though I understand why many people are so mad about it. I just can't get past the idea that these people were all kids when they made these mistakes, and it's hard to see even Por die because I have sympathy for them all. Did they fuck up? Duh. Do they deserve to die...? I have a hard time with that, but I'm trying to be mentally prepared ahahahaha

I also hope all the people out there who have decided Jin is the worst person ever and deserves to die are prepared for if that doesn't happen. Because there are a lot of threads in the narrative point pretty strongly to a future redemption for him IMO (tho of course they could go in another direction, anything is possible at this point). And I have a feeling that all those people who are calling me names on Twitter aren't going to handle it well if Jin get redeemed or like... lives in the end. I have a feeling they won't handle that well.

Anyway, thanks for the message 💕

[corneille-but-not-the-author]

New Year's Eve part 8

The cake is good.

God she seems so unwell.

It feels good to be here.

But she doesn't feel good. At all. And now she looks at me like I'm some kind of wonder. In the middle of this parc, eating a cake, looking at people passing by.

...

It's poetic. In a way. Because poetry is as sad as it can be.

Just as this situation.

"Listen Domhildr I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. None of this is your fault."

She's right.

I'm still as self-centered as someone can be, after all.

I guess Father is right. I'm still not an adult.

She breathes in, breathes out. Her hand extend to mine. Our fingers entertwine themselves. It feels good. So good the cold is not here anymore.

"Let's play a game, okay ?" she asks with one of the most precious smiles I have ever seen.

"What kind of game ?"

"I say something. You say something. And we...try to sort it out like this."

Childish yet mature. A perfect description of this woman, dare i say.

"Well," I answer, "go on then."

She reddens.

"I have a big heart, Sigismund. As big as my head is small. And...I think a lot of people can fit in."

I blink. So...she is not going to talk about Fenrir ? About the crying ? About her friend ? About how all of this is threatening the delicate balance I have tried to stabilize since I've came back from this.

"Your turn", she says with this smile.

I hesitate. Well. She's being since.

"I don't understand you. Or what you want from me. I don't understand why you go to such lengths. You despise the police, don't you ? Why try to visit me on New Year ? Why not stay with the people you love and that love you ?"

Why don't you hate me like the rest of us ?

"Your turn", I say while holding back something in my eyes.

She seems distressed. By my word, again ? But I am done trying to pamper everyone. She's someone strong. Stronger than me. If those words needs to be said, so be it.

"Because I know I love everyone. And nobody likes me back. That's normal. I should be....y'know...okay with that. But it's always the same."

You're wrong but the words won't come out of my mouth.

Do i like her ? Do I love her ? Of course.

But she does not deserve a wreck.

But at the same time...

"Your turn", she says with a frown.

"I love you."

She blinks. Looks at me.

"Your turn", I say while trembling.

"No, no, you can't let me like this man ! Hey, Sigi, what do you mean by-"

"The game, Domhildr. The game. Your turn."

She blinks again. Her grip on my fingers tighten. It feels good. Like a flame that would feed on me. But I'm okay. I need some warmth.

"I...I...oh fuck, shit, did not plan for this...what am I supposed to say ? Uh...I....I miss you."

A little tear get out of her eye.

I take out my handkerchief. The one Father gave me for Christmas. It was supposed to be part of a downry. Now it's used to clean the eyes of someone he would despise.

And I don't care.

"Y-Your turn." she says, trembling.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"I'm scared. I hate my body. I hate how it feels. Every day. And I cannot fathom the idea someone wants to see that. What they did to me. What I did to myself."

The cake is good. The warmth is here. It feels...okay to talk. Just once. Let it go.

"Y-Your turn"

Am I crying ?

How long since I've cried ?

"I...am done. I am done being seen as vulnerable and helpless. By everyone....by myself."

She has a light smile. The tears are pouring from her eyes. I wipe them with the handkerchief.

"I want to be stronger. So that I can protect you. And you stop being afraid...each time I do a mistake. Because mistakes are part of life. And the fact I'm....doing a bit more...than everyone else...is my problem."

She sniffs loudly.

I have never seen someone so pathetic yet so beautiful.

I fear it's just how she is.

"Your turn." her voice is broken.

I don't know what else to say. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I laid my heart bare. I have never done that before. I don't know...What I can do. To help her.

"I want to know what I can do to help you."

She has a tiny smile. The tiniest smile I have ever seen her wear and yet, it's a smile so genuine.

"Stay there you big idiot. Just...stay there. For a bit."

She stops crying.

I do not.

Was her voice broken ?

I think it was mine.

We're in public. You're tarnishing your Father's name. I don't care. He's going to find out about it. I don't care. Your ancestors lived through tougher times. I don't care. You're weak. I don't care. Why can't you accept yourself ? I don't care.

I feel her warmth.

I feel her coddled against me.

It smells weird. Funny. I don't care.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I'm s-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry, meathead. Or else I'm going to puch you so hard."

She's cute when she's angry.