#god I felt like I was gonna explode. we got back to my place & I immediately got into PJs fuck anything else after that

[femme-enby]

Birfday meal was ate.

I stuffed myself w stuffed ziti frittas? Bread, both dipped in Alfredo sauce, then some of the salad swimming in dressing & ofc the delicious peppers… mmmm Olive Garden salad peppers…

Then some of the chicken off my chicken Alfredo… and then 2 drinks bc 🤷‍♂️

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

oooh ok so i think something really fitting for dark luke would be him manipulating reader into joining kronos’ army and then reader realises that it’s wrong and tries to leave but he won’t let them (he perhaps might kidnap them just to keep them with him)🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Minor Violence. 

Took me a long time to write it but here it is finally, so enjoy 😊

--

“Y/N, c’mon. We gotta hurry up.” 

You remain silent, feet fixed on the floor, bothered by the troublesome tentacles of doubt and uneasiness that have started to round you up. 

You had always agreed with Luke’s perspective on the Gods. Comforted him when Luke’s anger and anguish got the best out of him. Supported him when he rambled about the imperative need to act, to defy the Gods.

You understood him.

You had your fair share of bitterness and hatred dedicated to your own mother, something that often led to crying yourself to sleep. 

You even helped him design the plan that made sure that Zeus’ Lightning Bolt was stolen without the fault falling on Luke. 

But now… now things feel different. It feels wrong. Very wrong.

You’re not sure what changed, but as you passively observe Luke hastily stuffing some of your clothes into a small bag, you realize you can't do this.

Because it means to betray the only place that ever felt like home. To turn your back on the people you called friends. 

“I can’t go with you.”

Your words come out in a low tone, barely above a whisper and Luke stops for a moment, hands dangerously clenching around a few shirts of yours.

You think he’s going to say something, but as quick as the moment comes, it also goes away and your boyfriend resorts to ignoring you. 

“The rest of your shirts won’t fit here.” he says, with a strained voice. “But it’s fine. We can get you more clothes when we get there.”

A shaky sigh comes from you before you can stop it.

“Luke, I’m not going with you.” 

Luke tenses up and you nervously gulp when he twists his neck to glare at you with a mix of impatience, anger and exasperation and shakes his head before returning his attention to the bag, zipping it close. 

“Luke-”

“You’re not ditching me. Now right now.” he snaps at you, turning to fully face you. “You promised me you were on my side. Hell, you even helped me begin this. And now you’re abandoning me, seriously?” 

You shake your head, reaching for his hand. He lets you hold it, despite the angry frown he has. 

“This isn’t right, Luke. We can’t just-”

“But you get it, right? You get why I’m - we - are doing this, right?” he tugs you closer by the hand, his other hand wrapping itself around your other hand’s wrist.

Pulling you so close that you can practically see the rageful emotions exploding in his eyes. 

“It’s for a good cause. All of this! We’re doing this to stop the Gods, stop them from always getting away with every shitty action of theirs.” 

You look at him, pure confliction itching your heart and mind and Luke seems to notice that. 

“We’re in this together, okay?” his eyes beg you to accept it, to accept him. To be his partner in crime. “You and me against the world. Having each other’s backs.”

But as much as you want to, it’s not something you can do. 

Luke’s face falls at the tears shining in your eyes - a clear synonym of your decision.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I really am.” 

For a moment, his jaw tenses up and you think Luke is gonna shout at you. That you’re no better than the Gods. That you too have betrayed him when he needs you the most. 

But he doesn’t. 

“So am I.” your brows squirm in confusion at his apologetic words and the only warning you get is a light squeeze of his palms on your hands. 

It happens so fast that you barely have time to react. 

He shoves you hard with one of his hands grabbing the back of your head, smashing your skull against the hard wall.

The pain is excruciating, stars exploding in your vision and you feel a strange numbness disseminating through your body. Your knees give up and you’d almost fall if Luke’s arms weren’t there to grab you, softly rocking you till your back meets the floor. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” his voice sounds distant, your brain slowly disconnecting as you lean towards the darkness,

“...but I can’t let you walk away from me.”

[oncasette]

knock, when you’ve got the time

WHEN HE SEES ME I — neighbor!jamie tartt x fem!reader

summary: 4.7k.

you were less than excited to go on this blind date, far less, due to the fact that it'd been sprung on you out of the blue by your best friend. at least, that is, until you get on said date, and realize that the guy is everything you’ve been looking for. he’s sweet, he’s funny, he listens when you talk. but, he’s far more experienced than you, which is where your neighbor comes into the picture.

content: i’m american so the dialogue might be awkward at points, jamie lives in an apartment-style complex rather than the house he’s renting in the show, takes place in season 2 post reality show, pre-richmond

main masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

You feel like your chest is going to explode. 

“You did what now, Keels?” you manage to gasp out. 

“It’s just a date, babes,” she says. 

“A blind one!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she pauses to sip her tea. “I wouldn’t have set the whole thing up if I didn’t think he was a good match for you.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust her; god, you’re ninety-percent sure you trust her with your life, it’s just that

“I haven’t seen you date anyone since…”

“Martin.”

She rolls her eyes, “Martin.”

“He wasn’t so bad…” you trail off, voice picking up an octave as the sentence droned out of you. 

“He was a douchebag, babes. Grade-A. And, anyways, you need to get back out there. You’re super-fucking-smoking-hot. There’s no reason you should be cooped up all alone in this flat of yours. At least, if I have anything to say about it,” she says.

“What if I don’t want… to go on this date?” you ask. And in your head, you think it sounds like an entirely valid question to ask. Warranted, even. It’s a short lived thought when Keeley shoots you a look of fire and death. 

“So not an option, babes.” 

Your head drops, forehead thumping against the wood of your kitchen table. 

“He’s super hot… He’s funny…” she trails off. 

“Keeley, I haven’t just been single since Martin,” you say, muffled, face smushed into the countertop until she places a hand on the side of your head to tilt it just enough to allow you to breathe through your nose fully. “I haven’t gone on anything even resembling a date since Martin. I’m totally out of my wheelhouse, here.”

“Oh, lovey, it’s gonna be alright,” the hand previously on your face falls to rub circles on your back. “I’ll help you get ready, I’ll walk you to the bar. I will even sit with you until he shows up, if that’s something you like.”

“But-”

“No, buts! C’mon, you need this! It’ll be amazing and fabulous and fantastic, and if it’s shit you can tell me all about how you told me so after, while we eat a pint of ice cream and watch some shitty, unrealistic romance films at my place,” she says. She stands, abruptly, nearly tugging you up from your own chair in her midst. 

“What?”

“Let’s go. Bedroom,” she urges, only stalling to gauge the bewildered look on your face. “Did I forget to mention that your date is this evening?”

“Like, when this evening?”

“Seven?” she scrunches her nose as she checks the clock on her phone.

“It’s five!” you gape at her as she drags you to your closet of helpless, unsuspecting clothes. 

The rush of it all saves you from harping on too many of your nerves. Keeley’s sitting on the lid of your toilet telling you all about the guy she’s setting you up with as you shower, she’s tossing every semi-decent outfit you’ve got into a heap on your bed for the two of you to rifle through, and she’s sitting behind you with a curling iron as you do your makeup on the floor like you were in secondary school again. 

She nearly burns you while you’re putting on your mascara. It’s a miracle the wand didn’t go straight into your eye. 

By the time you were ready–actually ready, too, and not the “ready” you’d tried to pull past Keeley four times before that–your body felt like it’d been through the ringer. You were primped, polished, curled, exfoliated. You had on heels that, while, thankfully, you could walk in, you hadn’t worn in years and a dress that showed off more leg than you would’ve chosen for a first date. 

“Do I have to go?” you ask for what feels like the hundredth time. She rolls her eyes, shoving her thumb into your hip as she zips up the back of the dress. 

“Yes.”

“But-“

“You are going on this date and you are going to have fun and that’s all I’m gonna hear about it.” It felt like you were arguing with your mother about a toy at the shop. 

“Right, you look stunning,” she says as angels the two of you towards the body-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom. She stands behind you, arms linked around your waist. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. Her lips press into the dimple of your exposed shoulder. 

“You are going to be the kick-ass, sexy, bombshell bitch I know you are, and you are gonna charm the pants off this bloke.”

“Yeah?” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth for a second, allowing it to pop back out with minimal damage to your lipstick when Keeley playfully taps you on the hip. 

“Yeah,” she hums, pulling her body away from her hold on you. “Come on, then. We should get going.”

It’s a short walk to the bar she’s picked out, one the two of you have frequented plenty over the last year or so of your friendship. It was one of the quieter joints, even on weekends. Kept just enough patrons to keep the doors open, but was slow enough that you could hear yourself think. 

Keeley sets the two of you up at the bar after scanning the joint, sure that you’ve arrived before your still-unnamed date, before signaling over the bartender to order a round. 

“For the jitters,” she says as she grabs the glasses off the counter and hands yours to you. You nod at her, downing nearly half of the gin and tonic in one go. 

“Fucking hell. Feel like I’m gonna shit myself, Keels,” you say, clearing the lump from your throat as Keeley chokes on the drink in her own hand. You can’t tell if it's a laugh or a cough or something in between, but once she’s gathered herself and wiped the martini off the counter, she’s facing you with a concerned look. 

“Right, look, I get you’re nervous, but what’s up? I’ve never seen you like this,” she says. You’re thankful the fabric of your dress is dark enough to mask sweat as you rub your palm across your thigh. 

“It’s just– I don’t know,” you exhale. You swirl your drink around with the tiny black straw you’d initially ignored in the glass. 

“Sounds like you do know. So, out with it,” she says. 

“What if he’s…” you trail off. Your throat conjures up another lump just for the hell of it. “What if he’s…”

“Out with it, babes,” Keeley urges. She places her martini glass on the counter before swiveling on the barstool to give you her full attention. 

“You know, like,” you swallow. “What if he chews with his mouth open or is constantly on his phone all night. Or, or what if he’s chatting with other girls just, like, right in front of me? Because Martin used to pull that shit all the time when we were in situations like this, and-”

You’re cut off by Keeley.

“You’re totally overthinking this.”

“I know.” An exhale. “I know, I know. I’m not even really that freaked about all of that if I’m being honest.” It all spills out of you like word vomit. Each sentence inching up your throat, hot and sour like the taste of bile as you spill your fears out. What if he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met, what if he’s a kiddy doctor, or some other profession that’ll just send your ovaries into overdrive, what if he’s-

“God, what if he’s fucking perfect?” you groan. 

Keeley doesn’t elect to respond, instead dropping her hands from where they’d been resting on your knees and standing. This draws your attention. You look at her first, shorter than she’d just been when she’d been on the elevated barstool, then turning your gaze towards where hers seemed to be. Past you. At the door. 

“Grayson!” she squeaks. She half-jogs over to the door, pulling the very tall man into a swift hug that he reciprocates with vigor. 

What if he’s got eyes so dreamy you’re sure to get lost in them at some point tonight. Holy hell. 

Keeley turns back to you, dragging Grayson over the few feet that separate you from the door, and, consequently, him, before she introduces the two of you. 

“Lovely to meet you,” he says just as you’re stumbling out of your seat to greet him properly. 

Your shoulders lean forward as you perch on the toes of your feet. You’re completely unsure of yourself. If he was going to go in for a hug, you’re sure he would’ve done so already, even a handshake. You’re half expecting him to swing into Keeley’s previously occupied stool when he clears your brain’s rambling with a kiss pressed to the apple of your cheek. 

“Good to meet you, too?” you squeak out, steadying yourself with what you later realize is a hand on his chest. A hand you pull back probably too quickly seconds later, smoothing out the bottom of your dress. It only takes a second for his fingers to graze your wrist, for him to pull your hand back up to shake it in a real greeting. He takes it in his, hesitantly, at first, and you swear you feel a shock transfer between your fingers. You even think your shoulders jump, but your brain is so fuzzy, just from the proximity, you couldn’t be certain.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been here before, but there’s this drink-”

You’re already moving to pull away when he uses your conjoined hands to gently tug you into him, effectively punctuating your statement with an oomph. 

“There’s a nice table near the back if you want to head somewhere more… private,” he says. His breath fans across the side of your face, lips inches away from the shell of your ear as a shiver trickles down your spine. He knows your favorite bar like the back of his hand.

You faintly hear Keeley say, “Guess I’ll leave you both to it, then.” And you have half a mind to wave or say goodbye or even check and see if she left the bar, but you can’t when all of your focus has been siphoned to the man in front of you. She could’ve lingered and gaped at you for the rest of the night and you likely wouldn’t have noticed.

He leads you the short distance to the back of the bar from behind you, hand lingering on the small of your back in a way that just barely brushes against you. Enough to know it's there, that he’s guiding you, but not enough to truly feel him. 

You’re nearly vibrating when you reach the secluded standing table. Your drink is still in your hand, quarter full and sloshing as your knuckles wrap around the glass. 

The conversation fizzles as you try to spark it. Your mouth opens and closes with the start of various sentences dying at the end of your tongue as your brain attempts to put pen to paper and get anything out. 

“Have you known Keeley long?” he asks after a couple more failed attempts, tossing a lifesaver out to sea. 

“A year, nearly,” you smile at him. 

“Yeah?” he nods, tipping back the beer you definitely don’t remember him ordering. God, you were really losing it. 

Humming out an affirmation, you ask him, “What about you? Childhood besties?”

“No, no,” he snickers. “Though I’m sure that would’ve been interesting, I met her at this bar actually? A couple weeks back.”

You’re not sure if you feel betrayed Keeley came to your spot without you or grateful that she’d been able to conjure the man in front of you in the time you’d spent apart. 

“She spilled her drink down my shirt and somehow, in the span of the few minutes we’d spoken, had convinced me to come on this date,” he leans forward as he speaks, weight resting on his elbows. “Telling me all about how pretty her friend was. And I have to say… she undersold you.”

Your face heats under his gaze. “Is that so?”

“Who would I be to lie to a beautiful girl like you?” he asks. You have to clear your throat to gather yourself. 

“Not too bad yourself,” you admit. 

“Thank you,” he nods. “Wouldn’t want you to be too out of my league, huh?”

You shake your head and you hate how dopey your smile comes out. It's like you’re caught in a lovesick daydream just watching yourself talk to this guy. You’re quick to change the subject.

“So, what is it that you do for a living, Mr. Lee,” you drag the straw of your drink into your mouth. If only just to have something to do with your tongue, something to focus on anything other than the veins running up the backs of his hands and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he talks. 

“You’re pot on with the whole Mr. Lee thing, actually,” he chuckles. 

You quirk your head to the side in question.

“Teacher,” he says. 

“Teacher.” You raise your brows at him. Not Professor. Works with kids. 

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re just a lot hotter than any of the teachers I had growing up,” you say, and your heart stops beating for a minute as it gauges his reaction. That last part definitely wasn’t meant to come out. It was supposed to be said at negative twelve volume in the deepest, darkest crevice of your brain so that you couldn’t even hear it. When he laughs, though, you feel the muscle regulate itself, skipping a beat or two until it's back in its usual sync. “And what is it that you teach?”

“History.”

“So you could tell me all about the Great War if I asked?” you ask. 

“No,” Grayson chuckles. “I actually teach local history. Mostly Richmond, some greater England.”

“Sounds fascinating,” you say, even though you’re more than sure if you’d been forced to sit through one of his classes you’d hang onto every last word. With claws. And a harpoon gun. 

“It can be,” he shrugs. “It wasn’t my first choice, anyway. I had wanted to teach something less British. But it was hard enough to find a gig close to home in the age range I was qualified to teach and in the end I just wound up cutting my losses.”

“And counting your blessings,” you say. 

“And counting my blessings,” he repeats. 

The conversation starts to flow easier after that. He asks all the right questions at all the right times, he pauses and laughs and migrates closer to you across the table until your–no longer white–knuckles are gently brushing against each other. He tells you about his sister, about his childhood dog, his obsession with trivia games. 

“You’re kidding,” you’d gasped, nearly knocking your second drink–one you’d been too busy giggling to guzzle–right over the side of the table. 

“Tuesdays are my favorite night of the week,” he says as he gestures to the chalkboard pinned to the back wall of the bar outlining the events posted for that week. Tuesday night trivia was a mainstay. 

He lets you go on and on about the movie you’d watched last night, about how many times you’d seen Dirty Dancing and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He asks follow up questions about Patrick Swayze and Matthew McConaughey, about why everyone had called her baby in the first place and why Kate Hudson quit her job at the end of the movie. He even goes as far as to say, “You’ll have to show them to me sometime.”

It’s just when the nerves are finally wearing down that a girl appears at your table. And with your newest distraction, you move to check your phone. Your clock blinks back at you with a new message from Keeley you don’t check. It’d been two hours since you’d shown up at the bar. Your shoulders feel sore, suddenly allowed to bear the weight of the hour. 

“Jeanette,” you hear Grayson say. His tone is tight, a harsh contrast to the gentle timber you’d gotten used to over the course of the evening. His lips have drawn themselves into a thin line as he shoots you a sympathetic look. 

“You never called me back, you know. I left you a message,” she says as she curls her neatly manicured hands over his bicep. 

“Thirteen, if I remember correctly,” he says. 

“Same difference.” She shakes her head in a way that pushes her curls back to fall over her shoulder. 

He uses the hand not caught in her grip to gesture towards you, introducing you to the platinum blonde before continuing, “You’re sort of interrupting our date.”

Pulling back, she looks embarrassed. Shockingly. It’s like she’s just now seeing you despite the permanent place you’d held at the table for the entirety of her visit. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Gray,” she says, and as she moves to pull away from your conversation, she puts a hand over the side of her face to not-discreetly whisper “He does wonders with his tongue” with an even less discreet wink. 

You hear yourself say “That was interesting” just as Grayson spills out “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” you question. “It’s fine, really.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he sighs. 

“What, does it happen to you a lot?” you ask, and you honestly mean it as a means to break the uncomfortable, meeting his former–or not-former, you truly didn’t know him that well, now that you were thinking about it–hook-up. 

“You’d be surprised,” he groans, and he has the gall to look less than cocky about it. Cocky you could handle. Confident, even. 

“Try me.” You absolutely, positively did not want to be tried. 

“Look,” he starts, saying your name softly. “I wasn’t going to veer anywhere near this topic tonight because I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to steer the conversation towards sex. I’ve been around the block, sure, but when–and if–we ever hit that… subject, I want it to be for us. I would want it to be whenever you were ready for it all to happen.”

Nodding, you swallow. Oh yeah, he’d “been around the block” alright. Who would ever lie about this like that. 

“I’m good with that,” you smile at him. A smile he, thankfully, is quick to reciprocate, dropping his hand to cover yours where it rests on the table. 

“Good.”

Your eyes start to feel fuzzy before either of you have called the evening to a close. Static builds up in your tear ducts and a numbness creeps up, licking at the back of your skull. 

This was insane, you were insane. This was not the kind of information you cried over. You manage to pull yourself together to end the evening with a smile, putting your number in his phone with a smiley face at the butt of it, and allow him to kiss you on the cheek at the door of the pub before you split off in different directions. 

He’d offered to walk you home, nearly begged, but you’d assured him you’d be fine to walk the block and a half back to your flat. Besides, you ease yourself, you never invite a bloke back to your place on the first date. Wouldn’t want to give Richmond’s newest serial killer prime information on your whereabouts. 

How were you meant to work with this? It wasn’t that you were a virgin, or anything. You’d had sex. Once. When you were still a teenager with your so-called boyfriend at the time who’d dumped you the very next day. You hadn’t even finished, unsurprisingly. It had been embarrassing for you at the time, how you’d done your best to convince yourself that some girls just don’t cum from sex. 

You reach your flat before you realize it. The key in your hand shakes in time with your fingers and you manage to put your back to the door before your knees give out beneath you. Every part of you felt weak, unsupportive. Overwhelmed. 

Honestly, you weren’t even mad that he’d been around. With a face like that, it’d be a wonder–and a red flag–if he hadn’t. It’s just that you’re so… inexperienced. Women your age should know their body, should know how to use it. The only aspect of sexuality that you’re familiar with is the vibrator stuffed in your sock drawer. And even that was a gift from Keely. 

You bring your hand up to wipe your face, attempting to look somewhat presentable to the public as your neighbor sweeps past you to unlock his door. The back of it comes back sticky with snot. Your neighbor’s stride stutters, back foot planted to the floor for a hair too long just before he’s spinning on his heel to face you. 

“Are you alright?” His hands are stuffed into the joint pocket of his jumper. 

“Fine,” you hiccup as you bring your knees up to rest against your chest. 

He frees his hand from the pocket only to stick it out in your direction. “Jamie Tartt.”

“I know who you are,” you scoff, nearly choking on the giggle that bubbles up with it. “Think everyone with a telly knows who you are. Or, like… a phone.”

His hand lingers in the air for a second, twitching towards you until it resigns itself back into the pocket. 

“Did you wanna talk about it, maybe? I make a mean cuppa,” he gestures back at the foot behind him that leads to his front door. 

It’s the longest conversation you’d had with the footballer. Usually you’re given little more than a nod and a shut door as he lets another girl into his flat or brings his groceries in. Though, now that you’re really thinking about it, the former had dwindled significantly in recent months. 

Either way, you shake your head. “Wouldn’t want to intrude,” you sniffle. 

“No, no,” he assures you, going as far as to take that step closer to you. His hand extends out to you again. “I insist.”

You manage to stand on your feeble legs, following Jamie into his flat with your own keys still in hand. 

“How long you been sittin’ out there?”

“Not long,” you hum, clearing your throat in the process. He grumbles out something you don’t have the heart to ask him to repeat as he moves around his kitchen. His hair is longer than you remember it being during the last match you’d caught at your parents’ house and the dark locks fall over his eyes as he puts the kettle on the eye. Then again, that Man City game hadn’t been the last time you’d seen him. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks. 

You don’t have the energy to be coy. 

“I don’t know how to fuck,” you say. Jamie’s hand twitches as he puts your cup down in front of you. 

“Sorry?” he coughs. 

“This guy I went on a date with earlier,” you say. “While we were out, he got stopped by this girl he’d been seeing and she made a comment about how incredible his tongue game is and then suddenly we’re talking about how many people he’s had sex with.”

By the time you finish that sentence you’re gasping for air and Jamie is looking at you expectantly. 

“No offense, but why would that matter?” he asks. 

“I haven’t had sex since I was eighteen? I have no idea what I’m doing, you know?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t know. I’m very experienced, actually.” he raises his eyebrows at you as he says it, making the comment seem less like he was bragging and more that he was… easing your nerves about the whole ordeal. You’re not sure if it’s totally working for you or not, but you manage to maintain eye contact as you bring the cup up to your lips. 

“I’m sure being a premier league footballer heartily prepares you for this kind of thing,” you say, sipping.

“I mean, yeah, but I was kinda referencing something else,” he says and you decide it's best for your own sanity to play dumb in this case. You know, not let him know you’d seen him fuck his way through his short run on Lust Conquers All. 

“And that is…” “You didn’t see me show?”

“I don’t watch reality TV,” you lie. Of course you’d seen his run. Everyone had seen his run. Even if it has been through a mix of very flattering and very unflattering gifs on Twitter. 

“How d’ya know it was reality TV?” he asks with a cocked brow.

“Hunch,” you shrug. You sniffle as you hold your cup in your lap, both palms held tight to the warm porcelain. 

You watch him meander around his kitchen, feeling somewhat comforted by the fact that its a mirror of your own, as he mulls over the information you’ve given him. It wasn’t like you were expecting him to do anything with it. You hadn’t expected to tell anyone about it, if you were being frank, but Jamie had caught you at a fairly vulnerable moment outside your door.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” he declares. 

“Proceed.”

“I could help you with your little problem. Ya know. With my expertise,” he says. 

“Such a fancy word for a footballer,” you say with a bite.  

“Right hilarious,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, back to my idea.”

“Your idea… about teaching me how to have sex?” you ask, nearly incredulous at this point. 

“No, not how to have sex,” he starts. “Just…” “How to have sex,” you finish.

“Look, right, you said it yourself. You lack experience,” he shrugs. “I can help with that.”

“So, what are you wanting me to do? Drop my dress to the floor and beg you to fuck me? You don’t even know me,” you say, not even totally sure yourself where the hostility is coming from. 

He shakes his head, placing both hands flat against his kitchen island to face you fully. 

“We could get to know each other. I’m just throwing ideas out there. It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow, or fucking ever, really, but if you decide you want me to help you with your little… predicament, all you have to do is knock on me door, yeah?”

Swallowing, you bring your eyes up to make eye contact with him. What the fuck was going on? In the span of, what, six hours, you’d been thrown into a blind date with a guy ripped straight from your dreams, discovered said dream-guy was overwhelmingly into you, discovered same said dream-guy had slept with half of Richmond and some of Wales, and had your neighbor proposition himself to you after finding you sobbing outside your front door? Were you in an episode of The Twilight Zone? 

You look down at your cup before bringing it up to down the small amount of liquid left within it in one gulp. 

“Predicament is another fancy word. You’re on a roll,” you say after you’ve swallowed down the amber liquid. You make a move to stand, arranging your keys in your hand so that the key that opens your front door is pinched between your thumb and your index finger. 

“I’m smarter than you think.” He follows close behind you, opening the front door for you to step out into the hallway. 

“Should’ve told your showrunners that,” you say, facing him for a second before you’re pushing the key into the lock and opening your own flat. 

“So you have seen the show,” he says. 

“Goodnight, Jamie Tartt,” you reply. You hear a muffled goodnight through your door seconds after you’ve clicked it shut. 

As you drop your belongings in their designated spots and kick your shoes off by the door, you bring yourself to look at your notifications. 

Keeley MF Jones

Hope you’re having fun!!!! Text me when you’re home and safe xxx

A new message rolls in just as you bring your finger across the screen to unlock it.

Keeley MF Jones

I’ll take it that my lack of response means that the night ended well ;)

Love you, babes! Stay safe!!

I want all the details tomorrow!!

Pausing, your fingers dance an inch above the keyboard before finally typing out a phrase. She doesn’t need to know everything.

My lips are sealed. 

[berenwrites]

With Both Hands - Steddie - PG

for @steddie-week Day 1

Prompt: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

rated pg | 838 wds | tags: kissing, fluff, everybody lives, post vecna

Eddie is having trouble figuring out how he got here and believing it's real.

(Also on AO3)( My Other fic on Tumblr)

With Both Hands: A Complete and Utter Mystery

How Eddie had ended up here was a mystery to him. He could make no sense of the timeline in his head and yet the reality was right in front of him.

“You want to kiss me?” he asked, which was all kinds of pathetic, but he couldn’t help it.

Steve nodded, with a nervous little smile.

“If you’re into that,” was the uncertain response.

The little laugh that burst out of him then was completely out of his control. He just couldn’t believe it. His heart felt like it might burst, and the joy had to come out somewhere. Unfortunately, Steve took it the wrong way, the hopeful expression falling off his face and hurt filling his beautiful gold and brown eyes.

That just would not do.

Before Steve could turn away, Eddie brought up his hands to either side of Steve’s face and held him firm.

“Into that? Into that, Stevie, Sweetheart,” he said, doing his very best to make sense. “I am so into that I can feel my heartbeat in my teeth, but you’re gonna have to give me just a moment, because I’m having real trouble believing that all my dreams are coming true.”

He watched understanding dawn on Steve’s face, a smile, a full one this time, breaking across Steve’s expression like the sun coming up over the horizon. It was so bright it was blinding.

“Take all the time you need,” he said, so sincere Eddie wanted to pull him in and never let go.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Eddie whispered, mostly to himself, because his brain had always been a really weird place and it might have been even weirder since his brush with death, “Steve Harrington wants to kiss me.”

“He does,” Steve said, “and then he’d really like to take you on a date and have you as his boyfriend for as long as you’ll have him.”

Something inside of Eddie kind of exploded.

“Putting aside the fact you’re talking about yourself in the third person, Sweetheart” he replied, “yes, yes, and yes.”

Leaning forward he captured Steve’s lips with his own. It was amazing, it was wonderful, and then Steve pulled him in and deepened the kiss and Eddie found out where Steve got his reputation from. For a while Eddie forgot what thinking was as he revelled in the full Harrington experience, well at least level one.

When they finally came up for air, his brain was being even more uncooperative than usual.

“Holy crap,” he muttered, because it was about as eloquent as he could manage right about then.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, pupils just as blown as Eddie was sure his were.

“We should do that again,” Eddie decided.

“We should..,” Steve agreed, but was interrupted by a loud screech.

They both glanced towards the back yard from where they were hidden by the pool shed.

“But one of the buttheads is bound to come looking for us very soon,” Steve said with a sigh of disappointment.

There was currently a party going on in and around Steve’s fancy swimming pool, a celebration of everyone being alive and well and Vecna being very dead. It had taken them until the beginning of June to end the bastard and quite a lot of that time was gone from Eddie’s memory. The Party had found him amongst the debris of the Upside Down, just like they’d found Chrissy and Fred and Patrick and everyone who had died by Vecna’s hand since the beginning of spring break, even Jason ‘I’m fit for the looney bin now’ Carver.

The going theory was something about temporal mechanics and Vecna’s machinations and all sorts of things Eddie did not understand. Dustin had tried to explain it to him, but it would not stick. The kid was currently threatening to write it into a campaign to get it into Eddie’s uncooperative brain. Frankly he didn’t care, and he cared even less now he had so much more to think about.

He was alive, he had graduated because Higgins had wanted to include all those mysteriously back from the dead (the cover story was incredible) and the bastard couldn’t leave out Eddie without lots of questions, and now he had Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington for a boyfriend. It was definitely a mystery, one so deep he wasn’t sure he would ever solve it, but he didn’t care. Sometimes dreams did come true, and he was grabbing this one with both hands.

“We should get back and revisit this when the hellions are gone,” Eddie agreed with Steve’s assessment.

“We should,” Steve said, but didn’t move.

They looked at each other for a while longer.

“You do know you are clinging to my butt with your hands, right?” Steve asked eventually, a small smirk playing at his lips.

So, possibly Eddie was taking the grabbing with both hands somewhat more literally that usually expected after his limbs had migrated downwards while they were kissing. Sue him, he had goals.

The End ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift (Part I)

FORTNIGHT

I was supposed to be sent away.

They forgot to come and get me.

I was a functioning alcoholic.

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic.

All of this to say, I hope you're okay.

No one here's to blame.

What about your quiet treason?

For a fortnight there we were forever running.

You're in my backyard turned into good neighbors.

I want to kill her.

All my mornings are Monday stuck in an endless February.

The effects were temporary.

I love you, it's ruining my life.

I touched you for only a fortnight.

My husband is cheating.

I want to kill him.

I call you up but you won't pick up.

Another fortnight lost in America.

Buy the car you want.

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

You left your typewriter at my apartment.

Who uses typewriters anyway?

You're in self-sabotage mode.

Who else decodes you?

Who's gonna hold you like me?

Who's gonna know you if not me?

We'rе modern idiots.

You smokеd then ate seven bars of chocolate.

I chose this cyclone with you.

Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be.

Because we're crazy.

That's the closest I've come to my heart exploding.

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS

Here we go again.

You should've seen him when he first got me.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys.

I should've known it was a matter of time.

There was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time.

I know I'm just repeating mysеlf.

He runs because he loves me.

'Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

I knew too much.

There was danger in the heat of my touch.

He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

He was my best friend.

I felt more when we played pretend.

He took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart

Told me I'm better off, but I'm not.

DOWN BAD

Did you really beam me up?

Tell me I was the chosen one.

For a moment I knew cosmic love.

Now I'm down bad, crying at the gym.

Everything comes out teenage petulance.

Fuck it if I can't have him

I might just die, it would make no difference.

Come back and pick me up.

Fuck it if I can't have us.

I might just not get up.

I might stay down bad.

Did you take all my old clothes?

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you.

For a moment, I was heavenstruck.

I loved your hostile take-overs.

I'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

How dare you think it's romantic leaving me safe and stranded?

Cause fuck it, I was in love.

Fuck you if I can't have us.

SO LONG, LONDON

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

How much sad did you think I had?

Did you think I had in me?

You'll find someone.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out..

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

I left all I knew.

I stopped CPR.

Thе spirit was gone.

We would never come to.

I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

Two graves, one gun.

I'll find someone.

You say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it.

My white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared.

Every breath feels like rarest air.

Just how low did you think I'd go before I'd self implode?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.

I'm just getting color back into my face.

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place for.

But I'm not the one

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

I forget how the west was won.

I forget if this was ever fun.

I just learned these people only raise you to cage you.

What a mess.

I just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you.

Too high a horse for a simple girl to rise above it.

They slammed the door on my whole world.

But, daddy, I love him.

I'm having his baby.

No, I'm not, but you should see your faces

No, I'm not coming to my senses.

I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want.

Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.

You're this chaos, he was revelry.

Stay away from her.

Lord knows the words we never heard.

I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'.

I'll tell you something 'bout my good name, it's mine along with all the disgrace.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me.

Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see.

You ain't gotta pray for me.

It's just my choice.

There's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles.

Scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer.

We came back when the heat died down.

Went to my parents and they came around.

All the wine moms are still holding out.

Fuck 'em, it's over.

Even my daddy just loves him.

I'm his lady.

Oh my god, you should see your faces.

I know it's crazy but he's the one I love.

FRESH OUT OF THE SLAMMER

I'm running back home to you.

I know who my first call will be to.

He don't understand me.

Handcuffed to the spell I was under.

But it's gonna be alright.

I did my time.

Toss the ashes off the ledge.

I will never lose my baby again.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it.

Watched me daily disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile.

All those nights you kept me goin'.

Swirled you into all of my poems.

Now we're at the starting line.

No matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up, now that I know what's at stake here.

FLORIDA!!!

You can beat the heat if you beat the charges too.

They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true.

My friends all smell like weed or little babies.

The city reeks of driving myself crazy.

Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in.

Can I use you up?

I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away.

Well, mе and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time.

Yеs, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine.

Well, no one asks any questions here.

So I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body.

Is that a bad thing to say in a song?

I need to forget.

I've got some regrets.

Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable.

At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, Florida

I need to forget, so take me to Florida

What a crash, what a rush.

It's one hell of a drug

Love left me like this.

I don't want to exist.

[omegasimpsstuff]

Jealousy

Requested by @ladyshipwildrose

Special thanks to @captainsarahscratches for giving me advice on writing

Warnings: smut, angst

(I’m sorry I’m such a bad writer)

You had just walked backstage after your match on dynamite. Your body was hurting, every step was agony as you made your way to catering.

Once you got there you saw one of your friends, Darby Allin, walking towards you.

“Hey Y/N!” He said as he wrapped you into a hug, causing you to wince at the pain of his arms worsening your pain.

“You okay?” He asked concerned

“Yeah, just really sore after that match” you replied

“Here sit down, I’ll help you”

Before you had time to even question it he pushed you into the chair and started massaging your shoulders. Getting at every painful knot in your shoulders. It felt like heaven.

You opened your eyes and saw Kenny Omega staring daggers at us. We weren’t dating, but we’ve been talking for the past 4 months. Nothing crazy has happened between us besides simple quick missionary.

“Sorry Darby, I gotta go” you said as you rushed out of the chair and ran to the locker room.

————————————————————————

You were laying in the bed In your hotel room, the warm shower you just took really helped your shoulders and back.

You were watching tv as a knock at the door grabbed your attention. You walked over and opened the door and saw Kenny.

“Let me in” he said, angrily. You stepped out of the way to allow him to come in.

“Are you and Darby a thing?” He asked, not wasting any time as you had barely even shut the door.

“What?” You asked taken a back at the question.

“I really like you and I want you to be apart of my life, but I would hope that you’d give the the courtesy of not wasting my time if your with Darby”

“No we’re not a thing” you replied now starting to getting angry.

“Well then what was that backstage I saw?”

“He gave me a shoulder massage because I was in pain from my match!” You replied trying not to yell. You could see his eyes soften, he felt bad.

“Oh…. I’m… I’m so sorry” he replied with a soft voice. You could tell he felt bad, making you forgive him instantly.

“It’s ok… do you get jealous often?” You asked, not knowing if this was gonna be something you have to deal with often.

“I’ve never been a jealous person before, but something about you does something to me, I hate seeing other men talk to you, I want to be them.” He said looking you in the eyes as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I get it, i’d be lying if I said I haven’t felt the same with other woman over the last 4 months” you replied as you placed your hand on top of his.

“Let me make it up to you” he said as he started leaning in as our lips connected. His tongue licked your bottom lip asking for entrance. You of course let him, deepening the kiss.

He laid you down and got on top of you

“Feel what you do to me” he said as he rubbed his erection on the fabric of your shorts, causing you to moan at the friction.

“Please Kenny, I need you”

He pulled down your shorts as you pulled down his sweatpants. Wrapping your hands around his dick instantly.

“Fuck” he groaned out.

“As good as this feels, and believe me… it feels good, that’s not what I wanna be doing right now” he said right as the thrusted into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his size as you nodded, he started thrusting faster.

“Oh my god Kenny!” You yelled out

“God I love the way you feel, it’s like you were made for my cock” he whispered into you ear.

Your hands made their way to his hair and tugging it unknowingly due to the pleasure. But he seemed to love it because he started pounding into you harder, practically pounding you into the mattress.

“Oh my god I need to be deeper” he yelled out as he threw your legs on top of his shoulders getting deeper access, hitting that spot exactly right.

“Fuck right there!!” You yelled out, not caring how loud you were. The knot in your stomach about to explode. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you right before he came, causing your orgasm to crash over you.

He continued thrusting slowly to drag out both of our orgasms as we both began to come down from our highs.

“That was amazing” you said quietly.

“Yeah… it was..” he said cautiously

“Are you ok?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“Y/N, I want this all the time, I want you 24/7, will you be my girlfriend” he asked hesitantly worried you might say no.

“Of course I will” you replied.

[katiekatdragon27]

Y'all can't cage my cringe! *starts breakdancing and explodes*

Oookayy, this is gonna be interesting to explain lol.

SO! My siblings (@rainbow-wolf120) and I have gotten back into DND recently and we unanimously decided to base our characters on our latest fixations. That means we have a halfling bard/thief Rayman clone, a dwarf fighter Skylanders fusion, and a human cleric AU A. Sphere lol.

However, I decided to take some liberties with him and instead of using his canon movie personality for the character, I used his personality and design for post-"A Heightlander's Escape" (yes, my flatland 4th dimension AU has a name now lol, feel free to refer to it as either idc.)

More lore below lol (note: there is like a whole story synopsis, and it is very long):

First off, backstory.

A. Sphere (or Abel Spherious as he is refed to in this campaign) was a very powerful cleric of dimensionality. He was incredibly gifted with magic at a very young age, so his grandfather proposed he joined the ministry to continue his magic evolution. Although he did not truly believe in there being higher dimensions than his own, he would do the usual rituals and sacrifices to maintain his phenomenal power. He even tried to teach lower dimensional being the 3D dimension to gain more favor of this supposed 4th dimensional god, but little did he know that was his downfall.

Abel's old kingdom had been attempting to deal with the "flatlander" ecosystem that was just on the outskirts of town. Labeled "Flatland," some wanted it preserved, others wanted it wiped out. The ministry would henceforth pray on the issue in hopes of some divine intervention that would give a clear answer to this dilemma. However, Abel was not one to wait on answers from gods he did not believe in.

Taking matters into his own hands, the Head Cleric decided to make contact with these aquatic flat creatures one-on-one attempting to prove that they were more intelligent than the public gave them credit for. Needless to say, it went poorly.

Desperate to spread this ideology and save these creatures, Abel did something you were never supposed to do; pull a 2D creature into a 3D world. He completed his goal of by teaching a small square lawyer of the 3D gospel, but the news spread like wildfire, leading to fear, disgust, and unbridled anger towards both the flatlander and Abel. After going to royal court with his square companion, he was ex-communicated from the ministry and lost his status as Head Cleric. It was there that war was declared by their rival kingdom that wanted Flatland exterminated.

As the war broke out, Abel did everything in his power to ensure that the flatlander (who he had started calling "Anthony") got back to Flatland safely, even at the cost of the cleric's own life. As a massive fire raged through the forest where Flatland was held, Abel fled with Anthony to get the little square stabilized back in his home environment.

Abel's efforts paid off, getting the square back in the lake just in the nick of time, but Abel ended up engulfed in flames, accepting his death as his actions caused this whole mess in the first place.

However, his efforts did not go unnoticed. Just before Abel was completely consumed, a young 4th dimensional goddess, the Tender-hearted Angelica, scooped him up and saved his life.

The two's relationship started very rocky. Angelica knew that Abel was supposed to die in that forest, but she intervened. If she was found out by their superiors, they were sure to get more than an earful. With the possible chance of being executed for saving this unworthy cleric, she takes Abel to a pocket dimension up in space. She gives him an angelic halo that allows for him to breath freely with little consequence.

Abel was very angry and sad for the few weeks his spent in the 4th dimension. Having basically lost everything, he felt that there was nothing left for him and that still living was meant to be a cruel joke just to punish him farther for going against these powerful gods and using their magic without deserving it. However, Angelica keeps insisting that he did deserve to live, but not as a punishment. Instead, he was meant to expose the hypocrisy in the teachings of the ministry and recreate a new one with the proper values (much like what Abel told Anthony when showing him 3D).

As the two spend more time together hiding from other 4D gods in the pocket dimension, they get closer and eventually become very close friends. They learn that they have more in common that initially thought, with their wishes to teach and preserve dimensional beings others may deem as disgusting and deplorable. They also learn that they have a common connection in Spherious (Abel's grandfather and Angelica's first real apostle).

If given the opportunity, Angelica would have gladly kept Abel in this pocket dimension to provide her company, but a mission is a mission. It needed to be completed.

After the war had ended, leaving both kingdoms in ruin, Angelica decided to finally bring Abel back to Earth. They briefly explained Abel's mission to him one more time. As Abel shows his understanding, Angelica provided him with a gift of companionship. Using her divinity, she managed to track down the "Anthony" Abel spoke very fondly of. They granted the square a blessing that allowed him to be out of the water and accompany Abel in his travels.

As a last parting gift, Angelica blessed the halo still around Abel's head with magic properties that allowed him to be a cleric once again. He was no longer part of a church, but with the favor of this goddess, he could still do his magic. It was significantly weaker for a plethora of reasons, but it was better than nothing. Although Angelica did not want Abel to dedicate his life to her, they did want him to send her updates on his mission by burning letters during his rituals for her.

As of now, Abel has joined this rag-tag group of adventurers into the unknown after living in the woods for a couple months. He is still needs to complete his mission, so maybe Chipa Chapa and Brawler Dude (yes my siblings named their dnd characters these shush) can help him out.

Second off, design choices.

Like my last post on "A Heightlander's Escape", Abel still has the eye scar. However, when he was brought down to Earth once again, he was placed down "on the wrong side", so his scar switched sides.

Also, since Abel isn't transparent, the scaring is actually visible and impacts his ability to hold things and walk and stuff. His right hand can no longer use magic, but it is able to use weapons, hence the mace. The glove he wears on that hand helps with gripping and preventing blisters. His left hand is still able to use magic, although it is much weaker than before he went into the heavenly 4th dimension. He is working hard to get back to his stronger original self.

The halo was first used for breathing, but then changed to be a magic amplifier. Without it, Abel cannot use any sort of magic. He has a mace for when his magic fails (which is common now) and a shield for protection.

Abel original "priestly" outfit was basically destroyed in the fire, so Angelica decided to help him make a new one, which explains the major contrast (but still similar design) between the two.

All the other design choices were because I thought it looked cool. I think he deserves it after all the shit I put him through.

Also, Anthony sits in Abel's cloak fluff. Its soft and assists in Anthony's sensitivity to gravitational forces.

Third off, A. Sphere and A. Square;s friedship.

These two as so similar in motivation now. At first, the meeting was transitional. I do something for you so you do something for me kinda deal. However, the two learned that they get along incredibly well, and when Abel comes back from 4D, realizes he is the farthest thing from a god and beings treating Antony more as a partner than a subject.

Anthony still "worships" Abel and all his powerful magic but knows that Abel is not the god his initially thought he was. Although he failed his mission on spreading the 3D gospel (and low-key dying oof), he can definitely be there for Abel's mission. He is there to be supportive, and that is what he will do. Maybe he'll learn some spells of his own too lol.

They are very much friends here. Imagine a witch and her familiar lol.

More on A. Square.

In this world, Flatlanders are very fishlike. They still represent amoebas, but they have little fins on their arm and legs, and they make fish croaking sounds to communicate. Some can even be as loud as frogs, but that is pretty uncommon.

Mini Update: I've thought about it more, and I lied about flatlanders not being as loud as frogs. Women are as loud as frogs regularly and sometimes louder. Thanks cilekixxes 👍

They cannot truly learn a language other than the croaking. They can learn tone of voice and what it means, or they can pick up on certain sounds and do tasks. You cannot have an "intelligent conversation" with them without magic. Through magic, 3D beings can properly communicate with 2D beings, although there could be accent barriers that magic cannot translate.

Also, Anthony has a head injury from trying to share the gospel. While concussed, he gets into the crossfires of war and sort of dies (c'mon, most of you have seen the movie). When the light speaks to him, it is actually Angelica granting her blessing to him.

Although he does miss his family, he would not have made it there anyway without divine intervention. Angelica lets him say his last goodbyes to his family after explaining the situation. After some back and forth, an understanding is reached, and Anthony joins Abel's journey. His family is granted a blessing of protection from the war conflict and a prosperous future.

Geez this was a lot of writing. Thank you so much if you made it to the end, you're a real one. All of A. Sphere's AU lore will be explained in a later post outside of this DnD campaign, but this AU of an AU follows the original premise essentially.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I love this story to an unhealthy degree lol so people showing interest really boosts my morale.

Expect more "A Heightlander's Escape" (both fanon and canon) in the future. Have a lovely day fellas :)

[meredithbeckham]

the tortured poets department. songs one through five.

i was supposed to be sent away.

they forgot to come and get me.

i was a functioning alcoholic.

i hope you're okay.

you're the reason, and no one's here to blame.

what about your quiet treason?

we were forever running.

sometimes you ask about the weather.

your wife waters flowers.

i want to kill her/him.

all my mornings are monday stuck in endless februrary.

i took the miracle 'move on' drug. the effects were temporary.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

i touched you only for a fortnight.

but i touched you.

my husband is cheating.

i called you up, but you won't pick up.

i think some things i never say.

who uses typewriters anyway?

you're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down the road.

i've seen this episode and still love the show.

who else decodes you?

who's gonna hold you, if not me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

i scratch your head, you fall asleep.

i've read this one where you come undone.

i chose this cyclone with you.

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

you told lucy you'd kill yourself if i ever leave.

i felt seen.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. because we're crazy.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

here we go again.

you should've seen him when he first got me.

my boy only breaks his favorite toys.

i'm the queen of sand castles he destroys.

it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night.

i should have known it was a matter of time.

there was a litany of reasons why we could've played for keeps this time.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

pull the string, and i'll tell you that he runs because he loves me.

he saw forever so he smashed it up.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he was my best friend.

i felt more when we played pretend.

told me i'm better off. but i'm not.

tell me i was the chosen one.

showed me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back where i came from.

for a moment i knew cosmic love.

now i'm down bad, crying at the gym.

everything comes out teenage petulance.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

i might just not get up.

i might stay down.

did you take all my old clothes?

that somehow seems so hollow now.

they'll say i'm nuts if i talk about the existence of you.

for a moment, i was heaven struck.

i loved your hostile take-overs.

how dare you say that it's-?

i'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded?

fuck it, i was in love.

so fuck you, if i can't have us.

like i lost my twin.

i saw in my mind ferry lights through the mist.

i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

my spine split from carrying us up the hell.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

so long, london.

you'll find someone.

i didn't opt in to be your odd man out.

i founded the club she's heard great things about.

i left all i knew.

you left me at the house by the heath.

i stopped cpr. after all, it's no use.

the spirit was gone.

i'm pissed off you let me give all that youth for free.

i'll find someone.

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

my friends said it isn't right to be scared.

every breath feels like the rarest air when you're not sure if he wants to be there.

how much tragedy did you think i had in me?

how long did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

how long did you think i'd go before i'd have to go be free?

you swore you loved me, but where were the clues?

i died on the altar waiting for the proof.

you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.

i'm just getting color back into my face.

i'm just mad 'cause i loved this place for so long.

had a good run, a moment of warm sun.

i'm not the one.

two graves, one gun.

[sourbinnie]

4:18

je t'attends là sous la pluie | san x gn!reader fluff | on s'est plu comme si c'était écrit

a/n: i took french for three months and this is all i got ok, also i'm sorry about the short imagines (more like thoughts) i've been busy studying and you know dozing off.

i could see a figure through the curtain. it caught my attention all of the sudden as i was spacing out and not being able to focus on my book at all. as nice as french literature was, i sometimes dozed off to other planets where i imagined myself in different scenarios. but right now all my focus was somewhere else and it was my curtain to my house. there was no one home and i was the only one who could see it, curiosity killed the cat, some would say but i was tempted to move the curtain out of the way and just see what it was all about.

i could also hear some mumbling, a familiar voice invaded my ears but i could not place who it was. i decided to end the doubting cycle as i placed my hand on the handle at the door and sighed to myself 'cause this could be the most awkward thing i ever would have to witness. what if it was just some stranger looking at my house? or the mailman? or whatever (y/n) don't open the door, don't-.

"(y/n)? so this is your house?" i heard as soon as i opened the door and if the butterflies weren't there before, they sure as hell were present now. in all of it's glory there stood san and i could not do this today but then i realized it was raining so my first instinct was to grab the umbrella that we left hanging at the door and open it to talk to him outside. "you're so considerate, i totally forgot it was going to rain today."

considerate, i can't believe i was gonna blush because of this.

"what are you doing here? you're gonna catch a cold!" i said and if i didn't sound like a mother before when i was working in kq, i sure did now. that's exactly how we met, i used to be one of their managers but the future had other plans for me and i had to move to another company, separating me from my favorite boys and from my long time crush choi san. i know! it's so cliche but i do not write the story.

"i don't really care if i do, i'm on break right now and i needed to see you. it's been so long." he said smiling and oh god the dimples, the death of me every time i saw them. i smiled back trying not to make a fool of myself but you know how it is with nervousness around people you like. 

"it has! let's go for a walk?" i said, clearly not thinking straight because you know the rain. but to my surprise he took my hand and led me on as a sign of approval, fingers meeting each other as i took in how his hand was so big compared to mine. why the hell was i thinking that right now? and why was he holding my hand? either way i was gonna enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"so what have you been up to? a new comeback on the way?" i asked curiously even though i already knew the answer. it was literally everywhere, on my feed, on the street, every single part of the country knew about the ateez comeback and if they didn't they lived under a rock. 

"yeah i'm enjoying my last days before the promotions." he said and i could see those dimples again, it literally melted my heart to see him so happy. "how's the new job? well i mean company."

"it's good, it pays good and the groups are really nice but they don't compare to you guys." i said which brought him to squeeze my hand a little tighter and if this what it was like to actually fall in love in such a pretty way then i don't know what i was gonna do. he was holding the umbrella to cover me more than him and we walked in such a safe & sound way that every step i fell a bit harder for the man i was right now. "i just miss what i had, i was used to it but i guess i'll have to adapt myself to the new life i have someday."

"i just wish you had stayed but i know it wasn't the right decision to hold you back like that." he said and i felt my heart leave my chest for a moment to explode because come on, if he wasn't the perfect man i don't know who else it could be. 

"i sometimes wish i had stayed too just because i miss the familiarity, the boys, the crew and mostly you." i can't believe i said that. i looked down as i couldn't face him but he just smiled brightly as he closed the umbrella slowly. pulling me closer to him and meeting me in the most perfect kiss, feeling the small drops land on my face and in my hair as my arms were wrapped around his neck instantly and the kiss deepened. i couldn't help but smile and blush at him taking initiative so suddenly and abruptly but it somehow made sense knowing it was san. it went with his personality the way he kissed with such passion but also so much love & sweetness with a hint of mint.

"i miss you every day but we can change that right? and also it won't be unprofessional to see each other since we work in different companies." he said with a cheeky grin and i just sighed as i was so fucking in love with this man as if it wasn't clear enough. i nodded but then i wondered.

"what would that make us?" i asked curiously and he shrugged, taking my hand again.

"i'll be fine with whatever label you decide because as long as i have you, i'll be happy."

[roseofithaca]

Taken

A quick glimpse from Gore Silver's pov during the events of @idiotwithanipad 's fic Stolen so far.

-

Hey Ames, wanna know a cool fact? Hehehe.

Water has memory. Did you know that? People dismiss water as one of the 'weaker' elements but they're idiots. Water is badass! Hehe. It's fluid, it heals, it poisons, it hardens to ice or sneaks away to steam, it gives life, captures the energies of storms and the sun and moon...And even time.

I wish I could prove it to you, Ames, hehe, it would be something cool to show you, especially as it's so fricken' BORING here!

Shhh, don't say that out loud, hehe. Don't want Mr. Fluff to hear. He might get angry and shove us apart again, put us in seperate 'time outs' like we're bloody four year olds. Hehe, what is going on with him, huh?!

Seriously, I've never been able to figure him out. Last time my eyes worked properly, before my headaches started and Mummy brought me home, he was the first one I saw. And the last, hehe. He was crouched behind a tree, watching me summon the quarters to finish my circle. He saw me drink the funny tea I made and perform my dance, my offering to Lady Artemis, hehe. That's what's so great about the gods, Ames, they don't care if your offerings are lame or uncoordinated, so long as you put in the effort.

But when my nose began to leak and my head felt like it was gonna explode, he'd been there. All fluffy and ancient, a wild man beast. I thought he was Pan! Hehe, not Peter. A god of Arcadia. Basically the Lord of party times! No, wait, that's Dionysus, but they're a little similar.

When I fell down to the floor and he came to me, when he lifted me up onto his shoulder, I thought the gods had chosen me, Ames! Hehe. He carried me through the woods and laid me before Mummy - all beautiful smoke and magic and flames. I thought she was Hekate, goddess of witches. Or Hestia, goddess of home and hearth. Or Demeter, mother earth goddess. But she ended up being a mix of the three and more. So much more. Everything I ever wanted.

Mummy. I miss Mummy, Ames, hehe.

I miss cuddles and tickles and having her fix my hair and give me a new dress for the weekend. I miss feeling ever so warm when she puts her arms around me super tight. I haven't wanted to say it because I know you miss your daddy and I've been trying to be strong, Ames, hehe.

Don't feel very strong right now. Can't move my arm. Can barely speak, hehe. So thirsty. Need to drink the moonlight. Can see it there, flickering in the distance...If I could just crawl to it, reach it, let my skin take a nice long sip, I'd be okay...

But Mr. Fluff keeps dragging me back. Stay, he writes. Happy cub be good. Be example to sister.

Sister? Hehehe, what does he mean? We left my sister at the great wall. She's back in the other world now with her Mummy and her Amy and...her Mr. Fluff. Sweet Robin.

Did I tell you about Sweet Robin, Ames? Oh you'd have liked him. I did, hehehe. That world was ever so strange and confusing. Everything felt similar but nothing made much sense. And it was so dark, nearly as dark as this place he's taken us too. No Mummy, no you, no dragons...it would have sucked balls, if not for Sweet Robin. He'd taken my hands, he stayed with me, played with me, danced with me, cuddled me when I got super afraid that Mummy was gone forever. I wonder if he misses me...as much as I miss him.

Probably not, hehe, he has his own Silver back now. And I have...

Oh Ames, were you sick again? Here, let me help clean your face, hehe.

No, Mr. Fluff, I don't care if you put me in time out! Amy needs me! Ow, don't be so rough, hehe. Sorry, Ames, he wants to clean you himself. Told me to face the corner.

Tell you what, Ames, I'm gonna be having a few words with Mummy about Mr. Fluff's behavior once she finds us.

Dunno if much will happen of it though. It's like he has some kind of strange hold over her. Mummy HATES menfolk. Most of them. She quite likes your daddy but who wouldn't? Your daddy's just the sweetest! Hehe, you can tell him I said that. But Mummy was weary of him at first, and I've seen her be very harsh to men who intrude upon our queendom. Hehe, poor man with no trousers...That wasn't even the worst of it. Mummy has no patience for bad men.

Except for Mr. Fluff.

Oh, I know he's not bad, Ames. He's just...You dunno how hard I've tried to get him to like me all these years. Mummy kept saying that he's our friend. Ally. Protector. And sure, yeah, he can protect all right...scarily so, hehe....but that's about it. Before you came along, Ames, and whenever Mummy was working, he was all I had. And he hated me. Growled at me, snapped his teeth, shoved me away when all I wanted was to play. Or cuddle. Or just...have someone to talk to.

Mistress' Cub too loud. Mistress Cub too close. Mistress Cub go away - but not too far, where me can see.

I tried not to let it get to me. Every time I tried telling Mummy what he was like, she dismissed it. Told me it was 'just his way' and 'deep down he cared'. Mr. Fluff was just hurt and sad and....very very grumpy. Sometimes I'd even wonder if Mummy was in love with him, hehe. That maybe she was hoping he'd someday turn into a handsome prince.

Don't need him to be handsome, Ames. Just kind.

I almost wish I'd never met Sweet Robin. Because now I know what Mr. Fluff could be like. He could be one of the most loveliest friends I could ever have...the big brother I wish my own had been instead of an asshole...but instead he chooses to be....this.

I'd hoped things were getting better. After I first met you, we had a big fight, I told him I hated him, hehe. Just to see if I got a reaction. And I did! He was...better after that. A little. Told me his name. Sorry, haha, it's a secret. Promised I wouldn't tell. He even started to let me doze against him when my energy would start to weaken. Such a good pillow, I'll give him that, hehe.

He hates being touched. But there's a certain spot on his head where, if you rub it just right, he turns into a kitty cat! Hehehe. I should have tried that before my arms stopped working.

Oh and then he took a massive fireball for us when Mummy went mad! I thought that was proof that he really did care about me...Love me, maybe.

But now he's done this. Taken me from Mummy. From Lady Artemis.

Taken you. Made you cry.

No one makes my Fizzy cry. No one.

I'm sorry, Ames, I'm so sorry, hehehe, I was so sure it was all just a game. Maybe it is, maybe we've got it wrong! Mummy always said we could trust him and Mummy would never lie.

Except...even Mummy has got things wrong. Like what happened with Sister Silver. She thought Sister wanted to join our home but she clearly didn't - not when she had her own family who were so desperate to get her back. Mummy could make mistakes...

Maybe she made a mistake trusting Mr. Fluff as well.

Anyway! I got off track! What a scatter brain am I, huh?!

So water, yeah, it carries memories. Traces from right back through the aeons, back to the first vapors of steam on the Earth. All that information contained in these teeny tiny droplets - like a mini disk! Hehe. Did you have those, Ames?

Us ghosts, I think we're made up of some of that water. Like steam, Livings can't feel it. Nearly as see through as my mist. But lingers there. We're memories, Ames, memories of life. And even when we go up to the stars, something of us remains here. Like Mother Earth keeping a memento of us, a picture of her kids once they've gone off to college, haha.

There is memory here, Ames. I can feel it, the sicker I get, the more tired I get. It's whispering to me. A song of ancient times. Olde English. I shouldn't be able to understand it...but I can.

"Come with me, dilly dilly,

Take my hand, tilly tilly,

We shall fly where the sun meets the-"

Oh no! Mr. Fluff is growling! My singing must have upset him somehow. Shut up, Silver. Don't want Time Out extended, hehehe.

Can you hear her, Ames? The little girl singing? Such a pretty voice.

If Mr. Fluff let me dance, I'd try to spin and summon up the droplets until they formed the memory so you could see. Hear. But even if he did, I don't know if I have the strength.

Tears leak from my eyes, leaving traces of my own pain here, hehe. Don't worry. Still smiling. Still happy cub. He never seems to notice when I cry, even after all these years. Doesn't care enough to look deeper.

All anyone sees is the Smile. Never the tears.

Except for Mummy.

Mummy. Mummy, I miss you so much. I'm trying to be brave, like before, but I'm afraid to fall asleep without getting a single cuddle. Afraid to leave Ames alone in the dark.

Afraid of what will happen if I don't get to sleep in the Goddess' good light. What if I never wake up?

What if Amy is left alone forever?

There's more tears in here. Not just mine. Not just Amy's. Tears shed by the singing girl. Tears shed by...Mr. Fluff?

What happened here? Hehe....

Anyway, just wanted to share that with you, Ames, even though we're not allowed to talk to each other right now, or write, or click...

I'm sure Mummy and your daddy will find us soon. It will all be over. We'll be tucked up in their arms, safe and sound...

Come with me, dilly dilly.

Humming, unable to get the tune out of my head, I feel my head start to bob down.

Sleepy time is coming, Ames. I'm so sorry.

[vincess-princess]

as we were falling

formerly untitled

ch. 3

a/n: do you like the title? idk if this idea is going anywhere but i felt bad leaving it nameless

warnings: take a wild guess (violence, piss mention)

word count: 1777

“It’s full,” Tommy said, plopping down onto Nikki’s mattress. “Heaping, even.”

“Damn it.” Nikki squeezed his knees tighter, agony on his face. “When are they gonna empty it? I’m dying here, man.”

“They usually do it after breakfast.”

“Breakfast was hours ago. Any chance they’re gonna do it today?”

“Eh…”

“So no.”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. One bucket for twenty captives definitely wasn’t enough, even when emptied regularly, and when it wasn’t… things got stinky. Nikki, still chained to the wall (Tommy couldn’t look at the red stripe of irritated skin underneath the ring of the handcuff without shuddering), couldn’t even make trips there, so the bucket instead made trips to him – with Tommy’s help.

Now, though, he couldn’t risk lifting it without splashing the contents all across the floor. The room already smelled worse than an underground bar toilet, and Tommy thought nothing could beat that. The first assumption his new life proved wrong, he thought grimly.

“We’re already drowning in shit, and now they decide to make it literal,” Nikki grumbled. “God, I’d love to splash it on their faces. Shower them in shit. Unite them with their kind, so to say.”

For a second Tommy indulged himself on imagining the guards’ faces if it happened. Or, rather, their shrieking and yelling – they couldn’t see their faces behind the helmets, after all. It was no great loss – helped somewhat, even. It made it easier to believe that those were some aliens, evil minions, androids, whatever – not real, regular people like them and Nikki for whom what they were doing was a job just as much as cleaning tables in a café was for Tommy. They did it for a living, probably had families they came home to. Did they ever tell them stories from work? “So this one captive today threw up on the boots of my buddy Jackson and we electrocuted her for fifteen seconds for that”?

“Hey?” he heard Nikki’s voice. Then he snapped his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. “Ground control to major Tom. Can you hear me?”

Tommy slapped his hand away. “Don’t interrupt me. I am speaking that into existence.”

Nikki huffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, master wizard. Of course, keep on weaving your spells. I’ll be here, peeing my pants quietly.”

“Well, what else can I do?” Tommy threw his hands up. “I’m already running back and forth with this bucket for Your Majesty to shit in three times a day. You could show a little gratitude.”

“I’m very grateful,” Nikki said seriously, but the force with which he pressed his hand to his chest gave out a taunt. “It doesn’t help my problem, though.”

“I’m not giving you my cup.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of that, but now that you mentioned it…” Nikki began eyeing Tommy’s cup hungrily. Tommy moved it farther back so that Nikki couldn’t reach it.

“You have no soul.” Nikki crossed his arms on his chest, but didn’t really pull off the offended face, only prompting Tommy to laugh. “You cruel, cruel bastard. What am I to do? Piss on the floor? Or hold it in and explode from too much pee?”

“You know,” Tommy looked at the floor with renewed interest, “it’s already dirty… wouldn’t hurt much.”

Nikki threw his head back and laughed. “We really getting desperate here, aren’t we? By the way,” he suddenly changed the topic, “when’s dinner?”

“Not sure,” Tommy said, confused. “It’s hard to track time here, you know. But… I’d say, in about half an hour.”

“Great. It won’t dry off by then.” Nikki said, whipped out his dick and peed right into the passage between the two rows of mattresses. “They always pass through here,” he grinned, shoved his dick back into his pants and returned to his place. Tommy and a dozen other captives watched the urine lazily flowing along the passage.

Tommy turned to Nikki and was met with a beaming smile.

“You really have no limits, man,” he said.

“The sky is the limit,” Nikki declared pompously. “And also it was the only place I could reach. But, as they say, two birds with one stone! They’ll have to walk along the passage, there’s not enough space between mattresses for the trolley. And my bladder isn’t tearing apart. I say, we’ve got a good deal.”

Thousands of objections began running through Tommy’s head until they became background noise. Yes, it will get their asses kicked, but it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Besides, he wanted to hear the guards’ screams when they realized what they were walking on. Maybe it will get them to empty the bucket in time, too.

“Yeah,” Tommy grinned back. “Maybe it will teach them a lesson.”

Over the next half an hour three captives tried to demand they wipe the piss down, but to no avail. Nikki smiled at them with his brand smile – all sharp teeth and a crazy gleam in his eyes – and Tommy offered them to do it themselves if they disliked it so much, which none of them rushed to do. The urine persisted until the guards arrived with a trolley full of nutrient paste.

As expected, they didn’t look down. As expected, they heard the splash when it was already too late.

“Who the hell spilled water here?” one of the guards looked around the room. Everybody averted their gazes. “One of us could slip on that! If that happens again we’ll remove the washbowl and ration your water too!”

“Guys,” another said, “is it just me or does it smell like piss in here?”

Tommy and Nikki exchanged looks. It was increasingly hard not to laugh.

“Of course it does. The bucket’s heaping.” And they all laughed, the sound muffled by their helmets but nonetheless disgusting.

They began throwing packages with the paste at the captives, not really bothering to aim, but even when a package hit someone’s head, no one dared to say a word. Seeing people so beaten into humiliation and obedience was revolting, but also Tommy knew what they would get were they to act up, and he understood them. After all, when it’s a choice between dignity and survival, every normal person would choose the latter.

Nikki, by these standards, was straight-up bonkers, because he never once lowered his gaze even when black helmets turned right towards him. His sheer recklessness infected Tommy, because every time the piss splashed under the guards’ boots he couldn’t hold back a smile.

Eventually it attracted attention.

“What’s so funny, you pipsqueak?” One of the guards poked him in the shoulder with a bat.

“Nothing,” Tommy said quickly, staring at the guard’s wet boot traces on the floor.

“Bullshit!” The bat poked him harder. “You find something here funny? Tell us, we want to laugh too.”

Other guards began turning around and looking themselves over suspiciously. Tommy waited with bated breath for them to discover they were standing in piss.

“You see,” he began, “sometimes things are not what they seem. Not all that’s liquid is gold, but sometimes… it is.”

“What the hell does that mean? What liquid?” The guard looked down and Tommy could almost see his face falling. “Is this- is this-“

“That’s fucking piss! I said it smells like piss! I said it!” another one screamed, trying to wipe the soles of his boots on the floor. Tommy could only hope Nikki’s piss was acidic enough to leave those boots smelly for at least a little while after. “He peed in the fucking aisle!”

“You bastard!” the guard growled, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of his robe and single-handedly pulling him onto his feet. “You son of a bitch!” He pushed Tommy in the middle of the room towards the other guards. Tommy could bet their faces were creased with anger, and a chill went down his spine.

“Look at ‘im! He did it on purpose!” The one who smelled the piss jumped forward and raised the bat over his head. Then it collided with Tommy’s shoulder, and he almost dropped onto his knees, his vision for a second going white.

“Hey! Hey! He didn’t do it!” he heard from behind his back. Dammit, Nikki. “I did it! Leave him alone! I did it!”

The second blow never got there. All the guards turned towards Nikki.

“You?” one of them said.

“Me.” Nikki grinned back. “You should’ve sent someone to empty the bucket.”

Tommy watched the guards unchain him, but only to drag him to the middle of the room, push him onto his knees and zap him with two shockers at once, one in the chest and one in the hip. About twelve seconds into this Nikki must have blacked out, because he stopped screaming. The guards dragged him back to his mattress and dropped his lifeless body there, the knees of his robe soaked with urine.

“You knew he pissed there,” a guard said then to Tommy. “You knew and didn’t tell us.”

He got zapped too – later he figured out that he got an easier deal with just one shocker, though at the moment it was hard to tell with electricity seemingly disintegrating his body tissues. He was dropped on the floor right where he stood.

“You all knew,” he heard a guard say to the captives through ringing in his ears. “You all knew and said nothing, you spineless sacks of shit. You ain’t getting any dinner today. Give that back!”

It took Tommy some time to come around, and when he crawled back to his mattress, Nikki had only just awakened, his eyes still foggy and unfocused, a thread of saliva hanging from his half-open mouth.

“Man, you look like shit,” Tommy croaked.

Nikki only made an unintelligible groan in response, but Tommy knew he said something along the lines of “you ain’t no better”. Which, fair.

He laid down on his mattress, trying to combat the nausea that always came with electric shock. When one wanted to puke his guts out so badly, getting deprived of dinner didn’t seem half as bad. The captives probably didn’t agree, but none of them dared to express their discontent verbally – for now, at least.

Soon Nikki tried to raise his head and sit up. The guards forgot to chain him back, so he could finally use both his arms. Well, at least something good came out of this whole mess.

“Man,” he heard Nikki’s hoarse voice, “that was hella fun.”

And, despite his body hurting all over and his pants soaked in piss, Tommy could hardly disagree with him. At least now the guards knew they could get back at them – in their own way.

[demonic-charcuterie]

Marco Ikusaba

You felt your eyes well with tears of pure happiness as your legs sprawled over Marco’s shoulders. You could feel like this 24 hours of everyday and never place her hand on this feeling. It was like a warm deep *deep* feeling that grew tighter and tighter for exploding through your whole body. In these types of moments nothing matter but this feeling and of course Marco. You whimper as you feel his throbbing tip pull of you drawing out another moan.

He looked at you with lovely eyes and smile. “Are you okay baby?” All you did was paw at him and chuckle. “I love you….I’m so serious I love you.” You said before pulling him closer. Marco held you you closer and took a deep breath into your hair. You wish you could stay like this forever but you know what that ringtone means. “M-Marco do we have t-“

“Baby don’t be scared.” A raspy voice said “after we get this done it’s just one more step towards being gods.” You smiled nervously before climbing on top of your man and tugging his hair back and going in for his neck. “Ahh- my my you sneaky little thing.” He said while trailing his hand to your back when he heard a car hong.

You nodded your head as Marco gave you a thumbs her and summoned your nerve. You grabbed one end off your Dual corded kukris (yes I know that’s a different weapon) and stabbed into the power box. “Alright let’s do this!” You said as Marco gripped your waist.

You were laughing as you busted through the door as Marco knocked the cop a few paces back. When the cop launched forward all you did was sign as Marco launched a punch into the man’s stomach. “Oh running that highlight re it’s obvious you zigged when you should have zagged.”

“You and your boner for counterattacks.”

(Skipping to the attic)

“I am seventh! Marco Ikusaba!”

“I’m seventh also, y/n l/n”

“Our exchange diaries are the real deal” you say in unison as you toss you phones in between each other. “Game over chumps!”

You watch as the pick haired girl begged the boy to untie her hands and gripped a hold of his knife. “Very well, we’re not against taking you out first girly.” Marco saids before pulling you into a kiss. You grip your diary and one hand and hold his waist in the other.

“Tell me something kiddos? Do you believe in the overwhelming power that is love? See my diary is the testament to our love, it keeps tabs on my baby so I can protect her 24/7.”

“Meanwhile my future diary keeps eyes on him. I’ve got Marco’s gorgeous ass covered and he has mine.”

You pressed your hand against Marcos and smiled as you took of your matching sunglasses. “Behold the power of true fucking love! This is a love match! And our love has been steamrolled way worse than the two of you.”

You gripped the handle of one of you Dual corded kukris and another on the cord near the other blade and swung it towards Yukiteru. “If you stand there this isn’t gonna take long!”

You went stiff you saw the pink haired girl deflect easily. “What- fine how about two at once?!” You said as you grab the middle of the cord and swing both knifes forward only for them to fling both into the ceiling leading to you needing Marcos help to pry them out.

By the time you got them out the girl was rushing to take a jab at you so you jumped down from the attic. You and Marco quickly dragged out the two girls that you attacked earlier to patch up their wounds. “Why our you saving us?”

“Because things are gonna get hot in here and I don’t think you wanna be there when it happens honey.” Marco says

:3 I guys this is a little practice peace I was working too get the flow going I don’t know what other drafts will be coming out but I’m trying to get them done

[authoramalgam]

I finally wrote the part two to something I wrote like... a few months ago or something, And I wanna post some of my bullshit. *vibrates like a jar full of angry hornets*

This was bullshit. All of it was bullshit. Ant knew it and Michael knew it. Scenery Saloon and Steakhouse. Emilia had set the entire place up as a trap for Dan. He would be arriving there tomorrow for this job that Emilia, using an illusion disc to appear as Ant, had offered him.

Even now the defunct circus animatronic, not bothering to use its human disguise, wandered through the building, making sure her trap was set.

And they couldn’t do anything about it. Ant knew why. If they interfered too early, and got Emilia's attention, their plan to permanently destroy their remnant and end Ronaldo’s Torment would be ruined. That didn’t stop Ant from hating this vehemently. To know his best friend would be going through this hell Again. Just as he was actually starting to get better again. “And you’re sure that that jail cell thing will hold up?” Ant asked dubiously. It felt too easy.

Michael frowned. Or at least he probably did. Him being some sort of an amorphous grey entity sometimes made it hard to read him. Occasionally he was able to take a different form. A yellow bunny looking thing, but he really despised the way it resembled Spring Bonnie, so he didn’t use it often. 

Ant had asked once why he was grey like that. Ronaldo was to blame, of course. Apparently Michael was the first he’d tried to bring back. It hadn’t worked properly, leaving his soul permanently changed, and when Michael started going against Ronaldo, he stopped trying to bring him back. Father of the century right there.

“It’ll work for a while.” Michael finally clarified.”If Emilia doesn’t try and sabotage it right off the bat. It should last until I figure out how to get that door in place.”

Ant’s ear twitched in irritation. “...Fine I guess.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that. Dan’s gonna be fine.” Michael tried to reassure him. “He’s gotten this far-” “Yeah and?! Everyone’s undefeated till they’re not Michael!” Ant snapped. “What if things go wrong? I can’t- I won’t let Dan end up like this.” Some wandering soul, another victim of Torment.

“Ant it’s-” Michael was cut off by what felt like a shock wave. Every single object in the room, from the chairs, the tables, the speakers onstage, and even the bottles in Bonnie’s bar all jolted. Half the glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

Emilia stopped in her tracks, green eyes glowing as she scanned the room.

In normal circumstances, Ant would wonder if that had been some weird earthquake, or if something had exploded, but this wasn’t normal. Ant was a ghost, if that had been an earthquake, he shouldn’t have felt it. And glancing at Michael, it was obvious he’d felt it too.

“What was that?” Ant asked, hoping the grey entity would be able to give some kind of answer, but he didn’t.

“I have no idea.” He sounded nervous. Nervous was never good.

Instinctively, Ant’s mind went to one place. “You don’t think Ronaldo-” Michael cut him off. “No. He isn’t even in town.” Yet. Supposedly he was headed towards the steakhouse. But if Ronaldo wasn’t behind the shock wave, what was? “I…” Michael was quiet, almost hesitant. “I think we need to check the salvage shed. Just in case.”

The salvage shed. It had apparently been near impossible to even build without being found by Emilia. Supposedly if they were ever able to trick her inside they may be able to drain away the remnant inside Circus Baby, putting an end to her, but that was a big if.

As Ant was about to leave and follow Michael outside, he glanced over his shoulder. Emilia had gone back to her wandering. A janitor was already sweeping up the broken glass. The animatronics were all stationary.

There wasn’t supposed to be a janitor here.

“Hey- Wait- Michael wait, there’s-” Ant chased after Michael, passing through walls until he reached the back of the building. “Oh my god how are you this fast?!” He hissed as he passed through the chain link fence and ducked between trees on his way to the salvage shed. “Hey!” He finally managed to grab Michael by the shoulder, yanking him back a bit. That was one of the neat things about being a shadow animatronic thing, he was way stronger than he had been before. Not strong enough to fully fight off Ronaldo’s stupid Nightmare thing, but at least strong enough to handle most other ghosts. “There’s a guy.” “A guy?” Michael deadpanned as he pulled out of Ants grip. “What do you mean there’s a guy?” He glanced around, checking the woods for movement.

“No. Not here.” Ant explained. “In the saloon. There was a janitor, and I know there’s no way anyone would be in the building right now.” Especially if Emilia was walking around without her illusion disk active, she’d kill anyone who saw her like that. “He was over sweeping up the mess at the soda bar but,” Ant paused. “He showed up right after that… whatever the heck earthquake thing. There has to be some connection.”

Burying his face in his hands, Michael groaned. “Great.” Him being frustrated was pretty understandable. If this was another ghost suddenly popping up, it probably was, then they’d probably have to be the ones to deal with it. Before it decided to start trying to possess animatronics or actively try and interact with Dan. “Let’s just check this,” He waved a hand at the salvage shed. “Then we’ll go find out what this janitor guy is doing.”

Rolling his eyes a bit, Ant went along with Michael. Poking his head through the wall he was able to see the cramped room was unchanged. “Yeah. Everything looks-” “Shh!” Michael shushed him, pointing at the table in the center of the room. How Ant had missed it, who knows, but there was something there.

At first, he thought it was a dead body. A human figure slumped over, face in their arms. Almost like they’d fallen asleep or something. But they weren’t breathing and their skin was a sickly greyish colour. Then, its hand twitched. Blackened claws scraped against the wooden tabletop as the ghost raised its head slightly. A single bloodshot eye could be seen peeking out of the long tangled mess of greasy purple hair.

The room was dead silent. That is until the ghost stood up, its joints all popping and twisting as its body distorted. It towered over them, looking at the pair with an elongated smile seemingly frozen on its face. Not wanting to stare into its maddened eyes, Ant’s gaze flickered down towards the ghost's chest. It looked like it had been torn open. A jagged, ripped open wound that dripped with blood. There were what looked like glowing magenta wires wrapped around its broken ribs, pulling them even further apart. The wires wrapped around the entirety of the ghost’s torso and even parts of its arms and neck, digging into the skin. That had to be painful.

Letting out a quiet laugh, the ghost leaned in towards Ant’s face, barely a few inches from him. “My eyes are up here, rabbit.” A sickeningly familiar voice rasped.

A deep panic filled Ant. Like when you’re a little kid, terrified of the monster in the closet. Except the monster was real and right in front of him. “Ronaldo?!” He should be miles away, and his soul was trapped in the Spring Bonnie suit. So who, or what, was this thing?

The entity's eyes widened, its smile stretching just a bit as it tilted its head. “Oh.” It glitched. “Ant. It’s you.”

Ant stared almost helplessly into the eyes of the entity he could only liken to the devil itself. In turn, Ronaldo, or whatever this thing was that sounded like him lifted a clawed hand as if to grab him.

Then, there was a blur of grey from Ant’s left as Michael lashed out, his fist connecting with Ronaldo’s jaw with a satisfying crack. “Get away from him!”

The entity reeled back, clutching at its face. The eerie smile it wore never faded but it looked strained, and the look of surprise and  anger on its face belied its true feelings. “Rude.” It spoke like it was scolding a disobedient child. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that hitting people is against the rules?”

Michael bristled with rage at Ronaldo’s mockery. His spectral form flickered and burned like an out of control fire. “Oh, yeah, sure Dad.” He spat the word like venom. “Hitting is wrong, but murder, that’s just fine by your rules, isn’t it?”

Ant grabbed Michael’s shoulder, just in case he tried anything stupid. Whatever this thing was, it was pretty safe to assume it was some sort of threat. Even now, the twisted figure glared at Michael, an unreadable expression on its face.

“Who are you?” Ant challenged it first, then rethought his question. “What are you?” It sounded like Ronaldo, and seemed to act pretty similar, but it looked nothing like him.

The entity flickered for a moment, glancing at Ant, then back at Michael. “...Hah…Hahahaha!” It burst out in deranged sounding laughter, its form flickering and distorting before it settled back into a more human-like form. The wires and jagged chest wound were gone, and its body was no longer twisted. He could almost be mistaken for a person. “Fun…” It drawled, completely ignoring what Ant had asked him.

“What. Are. You?” Michael repeated, louder, still infuriated.

Ant already had his own theory. This was possibly one of Ronaldo’s creations. Some sick experiment with Torment. Like the Nightmare. That didn’t explain why it sounded like him though.

“What?” It finally responded to the questioning. “What am I? What are you?” It countered, taking a step towards Michael. “I don’t recognise your face.”

Ant took a step back away from the approaching entity, pulling Michael with him. “I could say the same to you.” Michael just kept getting more irritated. “You’re avoiding the question.” He growled, crossing his arms defensively.

“Hahah…” The entity at least stopped walking towards them, but it still examined them closely. “Interesting. This is interesting.” It tilted its head as it again went back to staring at Ant. He could almost swear he saw a look of pity on its face. “Shadow Bonnie… Hmm.” Then, without another word, it turned on its heel and walked out of the salvage shed, passing through the door, heading towards the steakhouse.

Ant and Michael stood there for a moment, before their minds kicked back in and they tore after the rogue spirit. “What is that thing?!” Ant asked, hoping Michael may have some kind of answer. Of course he didn’t.

“I don’t know.” The grey figure responded as he wove back through the dense trees. “Maybe someone's ghost, but…” He momentarily flickered, a visual indicator of his doubt. “My dad has to have done something to him. I don’t know what, but we need to stop him.” Before he got inside, before he did something drastic.

Yet as they passed through the back wall and into the steakhouse, they found no trace of the purple entity. Maybe it had faded, maybe it was simply hiding, maybe it was somewhere else in the building.

“Wh- Where did he go?!” Ant leaned into adjacent rooms, just to check, but found no traces of the thing nearby. “God- AAAGHH-” He yelled into his hands, doing his best to stay composed. “G r e a t .” That was just another problem to add onto the stack. Ronaldo, Emilia, weird Not Ronaldo, and whatever that tremor had been earlier. Though, Ant was fairly confident in his assumption that that ghost had something to do with it. “Now what?”

Michael seemed just as infuriated as Ant, and he flickered every couple seconds. “I don’t know.” He said after a long pause. “Whatever or whoever that was, it's hiding from us. We’ll just have to keep an eye out for it while we’re dealing with Emilia.” That was, in theory, all they could do. Trying to find a ghost that didn’t want to be found was a losing game, but it still was frustrating. Knowing something, especially something connected to Ronaldo, was roaming around freely, was stressful. There was no telling what it wanted, or what it was planning to do. It seemed safe to assume it wasn’t friendly though.

Ant groaned again, feeling almost defeated. “...Fine. Whatever.” This wasn’t ideal, but they could deal with it. Probably. Dan had certainly made it out of far worse situations. Like back at the foundry. One extra renegade spirit was not the breaking point. “Wait. That janitor.” The memory suddenly came flooding back to Ant. With all the panic about Ronaldo earlier, he’d completely forgotten.

“Oh. That.” Michael sighed, sounding worn. “We should go see what that was about, huh?”

“Yeah, we should.” Hopefully it wasn’t anything too terrible. Sometimes, just because of the supernatural influence over Fazbear entertainment as a whole, ghosts would just wander into establishments on their own. Like some kind of draw. Most were content to wander, many left once they’d satisfied their curiosity. The biggest concern was when they wouldn’t leave. Some, for whatever reason, would possess the animatronics. Even then, sometimes it turned out well. They would hang out for a few days, just wandering around causing minor problems. The violent ones though, they were an issue. Usually outside spirits weren’t too hostile, since their deaths weren’t caused by Fazbear entertainment, but occasionally, there were ones that just seemed to like raising hell.

Michael usually had to deal with these types of things alone, considering he’d been the only ghost strong enough to do anything, so there was at least one plus.

They made their way back towards Bonnie’s bar. Sure enough, even as they entered the showroom, Ant spotted the guy. He was just standing by the stage, looking up at Chica.

“Hey. Hey!” Michael cautiously drew closer, yelling a bit to try and get the ghosts attention. Ant followed behind him, but kept back a bit. He knew he wasn’t exactly a very friendly looking entity.

The janitor jumped a bit, then turned and looked over his shoulder. Now that Ant was closer, he could see just how bad a condition the guy was really in. His once blue jumpsuit was torn, dirty, and splattered with blood. There was what looked like a blanket wrapped around his arm and shoulder as a makeshift sling. Most noticeably, there was a screwdriver sticking out of his neck, and as he fully turned, Ant could see stab wounds in both his throat and just above his stomach.

“Oh… This… This isn’t good.” He muttered as he looked between Ant and Michael. He looked nervous.

Michael was the one to start talking. “Hey, we’re not here to hurt you. We just want to know what you’re doing here.” He raised his hands a bit in a placating gesture.

The janitor was still giving them doubtful looks, but seemed to calm down a bit. “Uhm… I…” He seemed hesitant about talking. “Who are you?” He was definitely avoiding answering questions. Not a great sign, but this guy seemed more confused or scared than outright hostile.

Ant took this as an excuse to interject, hoping that maybe it would make him seem less intimidating. “Well, I’m Ant, and this is Michael. We-” The janitors eyes grew wide as Ant spoke, and he clutched at his wrapped up arm. “Oh no. No no no no no-!” He turned, and Michael tried to grab him, but he’d already vanished within a second. “...That was weird.” Michael muttered, staring at the spot the spirit had just been a moment before. “Did you know that guy?”

Ant shrugged. “I don’t think so?” He couldn’t remember it off the top of his head. “Maybe he was freaking out about you?”

“I don’t know, but this is getting weirder and weirder.” He seemed tense. “Something is going on here. I don’t know if my dad or Emilia are behind it or what, but we need to be careful.”

[that1fangirrl]

mother nature-chapter two

The room was definitely spinning. And the air in Melanie’s lungs was escaping at a rapid pace. The officers she had met 2 weeks ago were finally back with more information. Reese walked the shaking girl to the interrogation room, trying her best to calm the younger woman. Melanie felt like she was back in school, being called into the principal’s office. As she sat and waited for the officers to enter, she began to pick at the skin on her thumbs. Her mind was completely numb. “What if the blood really was someone else’s? What if I actually am a stone cold murderer? Oh god, I’m gonna be put on trial and get the death penalty.” “Sorry about the wait Ms Rivera. We had to discuss a few more things before we came here. How are you feeling today?” Officer Scott. Tall guy, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes. He was the officer that found her the night of the “incident”. He was kind and soft-spoken when speaking to her. She found him oddly comforting, even with her mind feeling as if it were going to explode. “I’m fine, and you? It’s been a while since I heard from you and your partner.” “I’m doing alright, thank you. And I deeply apologize for having you wait here so long. We’ve been running a ton of tests and trying to find more evidence. Which has been nearly slim to none.” A shaky breath escaped Melanie’s lips. “How could that be possible? No one can just kill and clean it up within 5 minutes.” “Shocking, isn’t it?” Another man walks into the room. Officer Hal. The guy was a complete contrast to “Sweet, calm Scott.” He always had a strong smell of musky cologne that burned Melanie’s eyes when he’d walk by. His hair was a light brown, nearly a dirty blond, but not quite. He was extremely intimidating. Even his eyes looked like they could burn someone with one blink. Not to mention,he always seemed pissed off at Melanie for some reason. Last week, when she had a small check in with him, he had accused the small girl of doing drugs. Which was later corrected by a drug test he had done. She did admit to smoking weed, but only to calm her nerves and help her sleep. And even then, she told the two of them that she started sobering up at the beginning of the month.

 “What’s shocking?” She asks, making direct eye contact with Hal. “No evidence. No blood in the area that matches the blood on your clothes. It’s almost like you weren’t even there. Care to explain that.” He pulls out his chair and takes a seat next to Officer Scott. “Let’s not talk about that just yet, Hal. We have to explain other things first.” He takes a deep breath, before continuing with a softness in his eyes. “So good news or bad news, first?” Melanie mutters quietly, “bad, I guess.” She always believed the bad news should come first because the good news can at least distract you for a little bit in the moment. “Well, like Officer Hal said, we weren’t able to find any evidence. And our tests have been completely unsuccessful.” “Hmm. And why is that? Is that something to do with me or something else?” “It means we’ll have to look even harder. Get more information out of others. I’m thinking, we even contact your friends and family to get “the real story.”” Hal’s eyes pierced into Melanie’s as he spat at her. “What “real story”? I told you everything. I don't even know how I got there in the first place. How can you just accuse me of something I know I never did. And you can’t say it was drugs, cause you sat there and watched me pull my pants down to give you the sample you needed. If I was gonna swap my pee for someone else’s, you would’ve seen me do it. So forgive me for being so damn confused as to what else I could possibly do for you here.” The table under the three of them began to rumble softly. Melanie’s pupils grew in size. Officer Scott clears his throat, bringing the girl’s attention back to the conversation. “Melanie, listen. I’m gonna be honest, your story does sound a bit like how you told it the first time. I- excuse me, we aren’t accusing you of anything. We want you to be free as well, but we can’t do that unless we have some type of evidence that would show you are indeed innocent.” Melanie nodded. “Okay, can I just get the good news now? All of this is a bit much.” Officer Scott nods as he gets up to walk towards the door. “I know you have been trying to call one of your friends to come and visit you. Reese said you weren’t able to get anyone on the line for you. So I went into our database and found your friend.” “What?” 

Jessica Jones, Melanie’s best friend who she had only met 5 years ago. The two had bumped into each other when Melanie was out risking her life trying to help a woman who was being mugged. Jessica stepped in to help and since then the two kept in touch. You never know when you might need someone like Jessica. Jessica worked as a PI and it always came in handy for the both of them. Unfortunately, the two started to become a little distant when Jessica started taking up more “clients”. Melanie never questioned her choices in work. “If that’s how she wants to live, then she should do what feels right to her.”

“Hey Bubbles, long time no see.” Jessica turns to the officer by the door. “Your work here is done. Thanks for keeping her alive, but we’ve got this covered.” Officer Hal stands, “Excuse me. Unless you’re her lawyer, you can’t just take over this case.” “Exactly. That’s why I brought her lawyers with me. Now if you’ll excuse us.” She makes a ‘shoo’ motion with her hands. With a huff, Officer Hal pushes past her, not before sending a glare towards Melanie. Officer Scott turns to Melanie, “You’re in good hands now. If you need me, just ask Reese for my number. Stay out of jail and good luck, kid.” She sends him a smile and a nod. Jessica sits down next to Melanie. “Jail? Wow. I never thought I’d ever see you in a place like this.” “Cut the crap. What’s going on? Why’d you tell him I had a lawyer? Cause I can assure you I do not.” Two men walk into the room and take their seats across the women. “Well you do now. Nice to meet you Ms Rivera.” Melanie eyes the two of them. The one on the left has dirty blond hair and a smile that seemed genuine. The other one was noticeably blind, red shades and a walking stick making it blatantly obvious. Other than that his hair was dark and well kept, with a nice amount of stubble lining his jaw that stopped slightly before his adams apple. The two of them seemed like a bizzaro version of the two men who had just left the room, but nice nonetheless.“These are the guys I told you about that one time. Nelson and Murdock. They’re lawyers. When I got the call that you were in jail, I figured I’d give them a call to get you out of here. Cause knowing you, you’re in here for false reasons. Right?” Melanie nods. She remembers when Jessica had first told her about them. They helped take down Wilson Fisk, get Frank Castle out of the slammer and other stuff. She had never met them personally, but the things in the paper about them was a good enough reference to her.  “So, where do we start?” Melanie leaned forward on the table. “Am I getting out of here?” Foggy nods his head, pulling out a folder. “We already spoke to the chief and he backs up that you can’t be held here for this long if they can’t find enough evidence on you. It’s unfair to have you here if they can’t. We also heard from Officer Scott that they did some tests on you as well. Which if we see here, only Officer Hal was in the room for that. Which makes it seem like he was looking for a reason to take you down. You also didn’t consent to that, so the whole operation was done illegally.” Melanie nods along to everything he says. Everything that Officer Hal had put her through felt like hell. He was constantly rough with her, unnecessarily rude, and the tests were just the cherry on top. “They took my blood too. Did he say that?” Matt’s ears perk at this statement. Why would they do that? Unless they were trying to see if the blood matched hers, they have no reason to do so. “Was that documented?” Melanie shakes her head, “Not that I know of. He told me it was normal protocol to do so. That in alleged homicides, they have to take blood samples every other day from everybody involved.” “Well that’s not entirely true. Unless they were scanning to see if the blood was a match to yours. But in this case, it should’ve been your fingerprints. Especially since you weren’t with anyone else.” Melanie nods. “That bastard did all those tests for nothing? How can someone just get away with that?” Melanie’s eyes pricked with tears. One falls down her cheek, hitting the floor with a loud thump in Matt’s ears. She was being given unfair treatment and no one even batted an eye at it.

[bawwsadface]

like northern stars

in february of 2020 i committed to moving to chicago.

never before had i lived outside wisconsin, the state i was born and raised in. freshly 25 and still feeling a very painful sting of losing a relationship with my best friend, i needed to make some kind of lateral move.

i'd recently moved back in with my parents to save up for a chance to take six months of language classes in tokyo. i put in all required documents and miraculously got accepted to the program. but it became evident that my only reason for doing so was to live a life with a romantic partner i no longer had who was also living in tokyo at the time. so i backed out at the last minute.

dejected and defeated, i was now doomed to be a 9-5 lifer at my old job delivering booze in a truck across the state. living in a town that i had no friends left in, and one that was full of traumatic memories constantly triggering me. i recognize this is still a privileged position. that i could've been on the street or completely shit out of luck without a support system. but that doesn't erase the pain of feeling like my life had taken a nosedive while i was in the moment. at the time i was certain that if i stayed in this situation long enough, i'd probably end up dead. if not under the train tracks by my parent's house, then in the back of a dusty warehouse or the cabin of a straight truck. death has always tantalized me, but at 25 i was not ready to meet it.

i got lucky and was able to find an apartment in chicago with a friend who was moving out of his place down there. we spent maybe one month looking for apartments before securing a primo spot in a good neighborhood. we were set to move in march 1st. in the year 2020. god what an omen, looking back. my friendship with this guy would slowly deteriorate over time and fuck up my relationships with just about everybody i knew in the city before eventually crashing out in spectacularly stupid fashion. but whatever, we live we learn. he was never a good friend to me anyway.

but in the week leading up to the move, an interesting music video dropped on youtube. the song Rascal by RMR was all anybody on my social media timelines was talking about for a few days. it's a rap track/piano instrumental ballad, sung in the style of Rascal Flatts' Bless The Broken Road. an aspiring song about the road to coming up and overcoming the hard times. it felt serendipitous to appear at this exact moment in my life.

the pandemic that would come to define 2020 was just about to explode in america. but right before it did, even in the throws of some of the worst shit i've ever experienced in my life, even with trump looking like he was gonna start a war with iran before dipping out as president, even with everything feeling hopeless and scary and undefined, this song... it was a shining light. helping push me toward something greater that i could make materialize right now, with my own hands.

a blistering optimism flowed through me that week. fueled by the energy of making an impulsive life change and the weird viral song that seemed to cement it as the correct move. things definitely changed once lockdown hit. but for a brief moment, i swear, so many other people online flocking to this song felt what i felt. we felt like maybe things were gonna be okay. maybe there was hope. and maybe whatever we were doing was leading us down the right path. i still think about that week of my life. i went to michigan to play a DJ set with my friends on leap day weekend and was bumping this track at every opportunity. before the lockdowns hit i was calling up every friend i had in chicago and going to shows and grabbing a beer with them in celebration. god, i felt unstoppable.

and in just a few short years, it seems like most people have forgotten about this song. RMR went on to make much more standard rap music, and really only peaked in popularity one other time when he got future and lil baby on a remix of one of his songs. i can't knock the man for following his path. hate the game etc. but that single slice of the past that lives in that song is forever crystalized in my memory. something to keep the light burning at a time when everything else felt so dark. something that gave me hope and led me on to whatever future i was gonna make for myself.

i came up and so could you. god bless the broken road.

[bangchanwifey]

JEALOUS - EMILY ENGSTLER

pairing(s): emily engstler x female!reader

warnings: clubbing, slight angst, smut, fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!recieving), scissoring

summary: emily wants to make it up to you after she finds out you were jealous.

⇾ ty to @astroph1les for encouraging me to make this <333

the music was blasting. the lights were so bright it felt like your head was gonna explode. you were already on your third drink and you could barely even stand up straight.

from across the room you could see your girlfriend. she was smiling and laughing with one of her friends. you started to make your way over to her but before you could some girl popped up in front of her. from afar you couldn’t tell what was being said but whatever it was it made emily smile.

you didn’t want to get jealous over something so small but you just couldn’t help it. as you watched for longer you could tell the girl was flirting with her. the way she kept hitting her on the arm and smiling at her anytime she would say something almost made you nauseous.

you couldn’t stand watching it anymore so you set down the drink in your hand and walked over towards them. you heard the girl giggling at something emily had said once you got closer. “hiii baby.” you said as you were now standing right next to emily.

she looked over at you and smiled but then went back to talking to the girl who was still standing there. you couldn’t even believe she just ignored you like that. you were literally standing right next to her and all she cares about is some random girl who’s been flirting with her for the past 20 minutes.

you moved closer to her, not caring that you had just cut off their conversation. “can we please go?” you whispered in her ear. she looked over at you “one second baby.” was all she said in response. you stood there, shocked that your girlfriend was really paying more attention to some stranger instead of you.

you didn’t wanna watch this happen anymore so you decided you were just going to leave without her. you walked away from the two of them and made your way to the door, leaving the club.

this caught emily’s attention and she was chasing after you right away. “hey! babe where are you going?” she yelled out at you. you guys were now standing outside of the club. music could still be heard from inside and you could feel the effect from your previous drinks catching up to you.

“going home. you won’t even talk to me.” you replied dryly, not even looking at her. as you started to walk away emily was right behind you. “hey hey! stop it!” she said as she stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“baby, look at me! i’m sorry i wasn’t trying to ignore you i promise.” you looked at her then down at her hand that was resting on yours. you were unconvinced, “why were you paying more attention to that random girl than me?” you asked her staring into her eyes.

she chuckled slightly at your question. “babe.. that was just an old friend we were catching up.” she said her eyes meeting yours once again. “it’s not funny. i didn’t like the way she was touching you and laughing at everything you said.” you said slightly turning away from her.

she grabbed your face and rested her hand on your cheek. “oh my god.. were you jealous?” she asked you with a huge grin on her face. you rolled your eyes at her words and looked down at the ground.

“oh come on you have nothing to be jealous about. i’m all yours.” she said grabbing your face again, making you look at her. you smiled at this and she smiled back. “want me to make it up to you?” she asked and you nodded. she was picking you up before you could even realizing what was happen and she carried you all the way back to your guys’ apartment.

when you made it there she carried you inside and set you down on the bed. she crawled on top of you and she placed a soft kiss to your lips. she moved her hands to your sides but then moved them to roam inside your shirt. “take this off.” she demanded as she started placing kisses to your neck.

before you knew it you were completely naked and so was she. she stared at you before kissing you again which caused you to let out a soft moan. “em.. need you so bad please.” you whispered into her ear. she started to leave kisses down your stomach and all over your things. you swore you could feel your pussy getting wetter the more she teased you.

“so wet for me baby.” she said as she swiped a finger over your folds. she started to rub her fingers over your clit moving them in a circular motion. you moaned even louder at the contact and this made her move faster. she placed two fingers inside of your hole and started to suck on your clit.

you were squirming from underneath her as she moved faster. she could tell you were getting close and this made her add another finger. “fuck! emily feels so fucking good!” you cried out as you could feel yourself reaching your climax.

“cum for me, pretty girl.” she whispered. you released all over her fingers and she licked up every last drop. she climbed up towards you and smiled before kissing you once more.

after she pulled away she moved so she was completely on top of you. she aligned her pussy with your own before pressing down to grind down on to you. you both let out moans at the feeling. emily started moving faster rubbing her clit against yours.

“oh my god! fuck- em… feels soo good! please faster!”

emily swayed her hips moving faster as she slid against you harder. you could feel yourself getting close again. “want you to cum for me again.” she said making eye contact with you as she led you to your climax. you could feel her release at the same time you did. “good girl.”

once you two had finished she laid down next to you and kissed you on your forehead. “that was fucking amazing, em. i love you.” you said as you looked into her eyes once more. she gave you another smile “i love you more, baby.” she said before getting off the bed and walking towards the bathroom.

“where are you going?” you yelled out to her as you were now left alone on the bed.

“gonna draw us a bath!” she yelled back and right after that you could hear the water running. you smiled to yourself before going to join her in the bathroom.

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ god i love emily sm. i lowkey stayed up till 4 am to finish this ☺️☺️ hope you guys enjoy!!! i love y’all so much 🫶🏼