#im already half way whoops

[dangerouscoffeetheorist]

I've been rewatching Teen Wolf - does anyone want a 15k Thaim, Theo finding a family with Melissa and Chris, pack fluff fic because I have thoughts and an obsession 😅😅

Does anyone still care about teen wolf?

Anyone want to read it I'm having major doubts about it

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[minglana]

yeah im definitely telling my parents i need noise cancelling headphones......

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ��66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[ddaisyvision]

𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him. 

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes. 

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind. 

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind. 

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji. 

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction. 

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...” 

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down. 

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you. 

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes. 

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

[torusmistress]

Down to Fuck!

context | cw: smut, alcohol, party, mean toji, heavy degrading, unprotected sex, oral | gn!reader

you and your friend finally made it out of the house after hours of getting ready. she put the address in the navigation of your car and started driving. you finally made it, taking a turn down a block lined with dark secluded homes, all but one. the house on the right was something straight out of a movie. it was so stereotypical. the gated front yard was filled with people, either sporting a drink in their hand or an actual human.

a curb abruptly meets your rear tire as your friend does a botched job of parallel parking. you grunt at the sudden jump and glare at your friend. "whoops," she says sheepishly. she parks and you unbuckle your seatbelt, hopping out the car, adjusting your clothes as you do. your friend joins you by your side and takes your hand in hers, leading you towards the front door.

just as you're walking in the front door a scent wafts past your nose. the strong scent of alcohol, making your face physically cringe. "come on, follow me to the kitchen," your friend says while beckoning you into another entrance. " actually, just wait here while i get the drinks," she says, knowingly smirking at you.

she returns with a purple cup full of liquid and hands it to you. "what's in this?" you ask her, bringing the cup to your hand to give it a sniff. "just some liquid courage," she says while taking a sip from hers. you laugh and take a sip as well. "holy shit girl, what the hell is in this,'' you shout over the loud music.

she laughs and ignores the question, "im gonna go network, you okay here?" she asks, all while already half out the door. "yea... i guess so," you trail off.

you float around a bit taking note of all the different characters and the different array of colored cups they all held. all while taking multiple small sips from your cup while trying to get into the vibe of the party.

-

its 20 minutes later and it seems all of the drinks you had went straight to your bladder. you get up from the living room couch and trudge through the hallways trying to find a rest room. the halls are lined with people, some lone bodies and others standing close together grinding to the music that blared through the halls on a speaker. you shove through to the stairs, unsuccessful finding an empty one on the first floor.

a door at the end of the hallway is left ajar and you can see a bathroom from where you stand. you rush over to the bathroom and relieve yourself. you're washing your hands now when the door shoves open, "woah- im in here," you shout out defensively, mouth agape.

the door is now wide open and in the frame stands a tall burly dark-haired man. he's wearing a black shirt hugging his body in all the right places. his pants hang off his hips comfortably, exposing the band of his drawers.

"well are you gonna' just eye fuck me or get out of the way?" he questions, his voice is deep and abrasive. sending a shiver down your spine. "i- um- sorry," you stutter out while moving to the side of the bathroom to let him in. "nah, don't be sorry. it's cute," he says in a teasing voice. "such a little innocent thing like you, what are you doing at a place like this? with that cup of all things." he inquires while stepping closer to you, cornering you in.

your back is now flush against the wall and he's closing the door behind him. your nostrils are permeated with his scent, its arousing yet a little overwhelming. like the trademark scent of a man. "what? what do you mean?" your confused and quite oblivious to what the cup comment was referring to. "so now you're gonna' act all stupid?" he asks, tone laced with condescension while moving a loose strand of hair from your eye.

he's attractive, that you can't deny - and you're not exactly upset at your current predicament, just confused is all. "i take it as you're not in here to use the bathroom, are you?" you ask while looking at him. he cheekily grins while chuckling. "well, you're not as dumb as you lead on sweetheart,'' he says while lifting a hand to your jaw.

"let me take you sweetheart, just for tonight," he purrs softly, his eyes are hooded as he’s looking down on you. they're clouded with something you could only describe as carnal desire. you quietly agree, letting him lead. he grins at your compliance while heavily exhaling, "mm, 'm gonna' have so much fun with you. on your knees, sweetheart.'' he orders - you hesitate for a second at the request, not exactly jumping for joy to get on the floor of a random strangers bathroom.

"want me to repeat myself?" he asks expectantly, with a glint in his eye. "get to your fucking knees, now." he tells you, except now its evident in his tone that you don't have the luxury of a choice. your knees are now on the toilet mat, which you're grateful for so your knees won't be as bruised.

you’re closely watching him as he's pulling down his pants, low enough so you have enough leverage to get what you want. your hands are greedily gripping the waistband of his underwear, in attempt to free his now prominent boner. "don’t worry, slow down— you’ll get what you want soon enough.” he teases, aiding you with removing his bottoms.

the party downstairs is still raging on, the sounds and smells flooding your senses along with the tall brooding male. but it’s now that you're starting to feel warmness from both all the alcohol and new coming arousal. you've been in some morally questionable situations but never at a house on your knees about to suck off a stranger. but hey, you have your needs too!

his length is now securely in your hands, yet the two still aren’t enough. you start working your way around his tip, it’s red and sensitive, desperate for attention. a sheen layer of pre-cum from his tip now rests on your tongue, working with your saliva as lubrication. your lips comfortably rest around his dick as you get accustomed to the abrasion. sucking in a sharp breath, he sighed. the warmth of your mouth as comforting as ever.

“put your hands in your lap, i’ll take it from here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, one of his large hands now rested at the back of your head pulling you in. obediently you comply, resting your hands on your legs.

he uses his large rough hands as leverage to make you take more, bobbing your head steadily up and down his whole length. tears prick at your waterline as he pushes deeper down your throat unapologetically. chasing his own high.

saliva is forming around his cock and the sounds your mouth is producing are almost sinful. it’s such a pretty sight, you on your knees obediently being throat-fucked. toji lived for this more than anything, breaking brat after brat into useful toys for his personal discretion and disposal.

“such a slut, bein’ so good f’ me, taking it all with no problem,” he hisses, his thrust into your mouth are labored and strategically timed. he’s been doing this for a long time, so of course he knows how he likes it.

“you’re taking this way better than I expected,” he compliments while his dick rests snuggly at the back of your throat. strings of saliva fall from his balls while you cockwarm. your nose rested right into the base of hjs pubes and you can feel him throbbing as his dick occupied your mouth.

erratic grunts can be heard from outside the door as he speeds up again. the lewd sounds of you gagging being exactly what he needs to hear in the moment, sending him right over the edge. both of his hands hold your head now, leaving you no choice to squirm away. a rough pace is kept while he’s heavily panting and mumbling profanities.

“fuck— ‘m gonna’ cum, ‘n yer gonna’ — fuckin’ swallow it.” he pants out in labored breaths. the pace is now brutal, his balls roughly colliding with your chin with each given thrust, adding on another element. it’s not long before he has you pulled into his pelvis, feeling his warm cum trickle down your throat.

“fuck that was good.” he purrs while playfully smacking his hand on your cheek. “now c'mon 'n stand, bend over the sink.” he orders. you try to stand up but there’s an uncomfortable pang in your knees from the lack of blood circulation.

which he takes note of — his hands are now straddling your waist supporting your weight. "don't worry love, i won't let you fall,'' he whispers sweetly in your ear. the party downstairs seems to have died down, less chatter being heard.

his warm body is nestled against yours, he's so close his musk is nearly overbearing the smell of sex. hands are on the sink, and clothes are on the floor. “your body is fuckin’ perfect,” he comments under his breath. all while he’s sporting another boner, a refractory period unheard of.

your back is arched like a cat against the counter. the ceramic surface against your bare hips is cooling in contrast of your overheating body. one hand is on your hip while the other is dragging his length across your entrance. the teasing is making you impatient, your body craving some more friction.

you take it as he’s also getting impatient because not even 10 seconds later and he’s pushing in. the sudden intrusion is making you bite your lip. for what he doesn’t have in length he had in girth.

he’s pushing in more and more by the second, and you’re salivating. once he’s at the base he starts with a slow motion, letting you both get adjusted.

-

he’s going at a steady pace, you’re a moaning mess. he has you gripped by the neck, pulled up so your back is flush against his chest. “am i fucking you good baby,” he asks, “tell me how ‘m making you feel, or i’ll stop. you know i will.”

his thrusts are ruthless, and so is his words. you know he isn’t bluffing though. you grab onto his arm that’s wrapped around your throat and whine, “fuck- i’ll do anything you want, just- mm, please don’t stop, please.” you’re a desperate mess, and he loves it.

in the moment all you can focus on is the feeling, not your friend who you rode with — who was probably in the same situation nonetheless. not even the consequences of sleeping with a stranger. only thinking about getting off.

your moans are erratic, some softly begging for more while others are an animalistic plea for his touch. “look at you baby, look in the mirror. all desperate and pathetic. does it feel good to be so full?” his words by any other would deter you completely, but now they’re the cherry on top. his sultry tone helping deliver his lewd words. his words feel good right now, it’s like a guilty pleasure; something you genuinely crave but can’t have.

he’s awakening something carnal, a cock-desperate slut willingly to take whatever he dished out in the moment. your eyes fall onto his in the mirror in front of you. he has a strange glint in his eye, something dark.

toji’s mind is clouded with pleasure, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, leaving a mark. his tongue dances over the surface, it’s soothing.

“the way you look while taking dick is the most mesmerizing thing.” he says, you can feel him throbbing now — close to orgasm.

“shit ‘m close, you’re fuckin’ dangerous. cum with me baby.” his thrusts are harsh, disregarding your pleasure. your head is thrown back, resting on his shoulder as he fucks you into a orgasm.

it’s not long before you’re buried at the hilt of his cock, taking another load of his. the second of the night. morals long gone out the door.

-

you’re sitting on the closed toilet seat now, half dressed reeling yourself in. “that was great, let’s do this again.” he says winking while buttoning up his pants and heading out the door.

while you sit there you question how would you see him again.

let’s just say it was a quiet ride home.

taglist ⭒ @nymphsdomain ⭒

comment under original post to be added.

[veneerslipstick]

⋆.ೃ࿔lights, camera...*:･

actor!veneer x GN!jealous!reader

• one shot

• fluff

at this point in yours and veneers relationship, you’ve been pretty used to his fame and how the life of dating a celebrity is a bit challenging than you imagined. until one day, veneer is casted on a new netflix movie airing worldwide ! but, of course, it had to be a romance.

you were super supportive ! showing up to rehearsals, meeting the cast members, helping him out with lines, you really enjoyed it. though, it being a romance plot, you had to witness every. kissing. scene, with his romantic interest, Arden. reminding yourself it was all just for a plot, you push past the fact of how much time they spend together and worrying if he was falling for them.

what will be your breaking point in order to prove he was unattainable?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“if you want to be as famous as me, you gotta work, gotta work, gotta -“

in the middle of washing your dishes, you picked up

your phone and held it against your shoulder when

you answered it.

“hello?” you forgot to look at who was calling, so you

stuck with the automatic basic greeting.

“Y/N! hi, hi, uhm so i’m on my way over, i still really

can’t believe that, yknow… you know !!” veneer

exclaimed, not having to second guess that it was

him from the way he squealed your name at the

beginning. smiling to yourself, you rinsed off your

hands and turned around from the sink to look out

the living room window.

“i can’t believe it either! and it was only yesterday !

im so happy for you. are we going out to celebrate ?”

there was a pause.

“mm, not exactly. we’re going out, but it’s kind of like

a get together with the cast members, so we can all

get to really know eachother.” veneer explained, and

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly.

“oh, but didn’t we already do that? i met everyone.”

you took the phone in your hand.

“well that was different , like , a basic meet and greet

slash first rehearsal. this is a little more like a loose ,

flowy, have-a-drink-make-someone-laugh type of

deal.” he seemed to have trouble with his

description, but you just laughed, leaning against

your island.

“i like how you describe things.” you blurted

randomly, and you felt him smile on the other end.

that was odd, but you just knew.

“i’ll be there in a minute, love you flower.” he

responded. blushing, you dropped your head.

“i love you too ven.”

hanging up, you went to your room to throw

something on half decent to wear. you weren’t

trying to impress anyone but your own boyfriend,

but you were trying to prove a point to veneers

romantic interest in the movie, Arden, is their name,

that their relationship was strictly for the screen and

nothing else. when you had first met them, they were

actually sweet and funny — but that’s what scared

you. there was nothing that you feared more than

you ending up being just a test subject for veneer , as

he was just famous and hungry, and being pushed to

the side as soon as he tracks down another

person significantly better than you.

pulling on a nice dress shirt, you looked at yourself

in your full body mirror. you knew most of that

definitely— probably, wasn’t true. but that sickening

feeling in your gut pulled your heart closer to your

stomachs depth. you shook it off, swallowing the

lump in your throat. then you heard a horn honk.

rushing out of your room, you opened the front door

to veneer in his car, one hand on the steering wheel

and the other around the head rest. he grinned at you

from afar and you rolled your eyes, scurrying over to

the passenger side and getting in.

“veneer, you’re gonna give me a stroke one day and

it’ll be all your fault.” you shot at him and he laughed.

“mhm, sure, aaaaaaand i’m slowly building up your

fight or flight reactions so one day you can whoop

major ass when you need it.” he replied as he put

the gear in drive and started his way up your

neighbourhood. you shook your head with a smile.

once you two arrived to the actual set of the movie,

which was just a mansion as of right now, you both

exited the car and made your way inside. you were

slightly nervous, though you’ve met everyone before,

but having to see people after already meeting them

once is weirdly even more awkward. once inside,

your arm intertwined with veneers, you were blinded

by spotlights and a huge chandelier over your head.

you saw a tall, tan person, who you remembered as

Arden, wave at venner who he waved back at, and

that’s where he dragged you to go. you made sure to

keep my arm tight around his.

“arden! you remember y/n,” he started, gesturing his

head towards you. you smiled with a nod and they

did the same. “yes, of course. both of you look very

nice.” they looked specifically venner up and down

and you bit your cheek.

“oh well thank you! you also look great. where’s

Lucas?” veneer asked, who you knew as their

director.

you zoned out as they both talked, but keeping an

eye on Arden, making sure their expressions weren’t

too exaggerated or incase they tried to make a

move on veneer. you obviously weren’t worried of

veneer reciprocating, but it still icked you

nonetheless. you then noticed someone approached

the little group, who you recognized as Lucas.

“ven! it’s nice to see you. and y/n, i’m glad you

showed up. veneer always needs his number one

supporter.” Lucas laughed and so did the rest of

them. you smiled and nodded. “it’s nice to see

you as well.” you were quiet as you were just lost

in thought a moment ago.

“anyway, veneer and arden, i was thinking as a little

teaser for the gram..” you cringed at his abbreviation

of “Instagram.” veneer and arden smiled

simultaneously.

“we could post a snippet of your guys’ hot scene…”

you felt your heart beating quickly as you shot a

glance at veneer then back at Lucas. did he really

just suggest that in front of you?

Arden clapped their hands together once and looked

to veneer. “oh, yes! imagine the fame that would

flood because of it !” they exclaimed, but veneer

expressed a face of uncertainty, but plastering a

smile.

“oh, i..” trailing off for a quick moment he looked to

you and you intervened.

“he would love to.” you said monotonously but with

a slight grin spreading on your lips.

no, no he wouldn’t, you told yourself, but oh, yes he

did, your tease told you.

veneer shot you a look of surprise but also distress,

but Lucas has already walked away while whistling.

“get the cameras UP!” he yelled enthusiastically.

swiftly pulling you to the side , veneer stuck his head

out at you and gestured his hands in a “what is this”

expression. you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“i’m not going to stop you from having fun. just

go do it, it’ll be a core memory for all of you.”

you explained, him biting the inside of his lip.

“i don’t really get you. just a moment ago you were

clearly uncomfortable…” he trailed off and shook

his head, but shot a smile at you. he kissed you

gently as his right hand ran through your hair,

then ran off to the others.

you watched the whole scene happen. the tension

between veneer and arden’s characters , the slight

touching , and of course, the kiss. that rose

dangerous flames in the pit of your lungs. you had

been digging your nails into your palm without even

nothing , which turned your knuckles white.

once the shitshow was over, you let veneer mingle

amongst his peers before you gave him “the look”,

which signaled you wanted to go. without thinking

twice, he started ;

“this was fun, but me and y/n have to get going.

photoshoot tomorrow.” that was always the excuse,

a photoshoot. and it always worked.

“ah, of course. it was nice seeing you two.” Lucas

replied, and Arden looked straight at veneer.

“i’ll see you soon, ven.” they said quietly. your

teeth grit and veneer took your hand.

after all the goodbyes, you and veneer exited the

house and got into his car. without exchanging any

words, he started the engine and revered out of the

parking spot, looking over his shoulder whilst

putting his hand on your head rest. you watched

him in the corner of your eye and felt your body

tense at this simple yet effective sight , and you

swallowed with a dry throat.

on the highway back home, you still felt fury in

your chest.

“pull over,” you said out of nowhere , veneer

looking to you, back to the road then at you again.

“what, why? are you gonna be sick?” he sounded

panicked and you looked at him, that being all

it took for him to put on his signal light and pull over

onto the shoulder of the road. he parked the car.

throwing off your seatbelt and pushing the buckle of

his, you threw your legs over to the driver side and

climbed atop him, left hand on his shoulder as the

other reached down to recline the seat. this all

happened so suddenly, he didn’t have time to react

until the brief 5 seconds you gave for you two to look

at eachother. his hands that were in the air slowly

lowered down onto your waist as his eyes scanned

the view in front of him. looking back into your eyes,

you crashed your lips against his with your hands

gripping the collar of his dress shirt.

both of you had craved this all night — veneer

more than you, actually. having to touch someone

else that wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of

what you gave sort of drive him mad. you noticed

his hands grew tighter on your body and his kiss

moved from gentle to hungry, you inhaling his low

exhales felt like taking a drag of a much needed

cigarette.

the cold surrounded around you disappeared as his

hands started to disperse on your back, running

up to your hair so he could pull your head back and

press kisses to your neck and collarbone. your

throat managed a sound you couldn’t explain,

and you let your eyes fall closed as you felt his lips

dragging slowly on your skin.

you loved how patient he was with your body, how he

took his time to explore what made you gasp and

breath out his name , like it was his only purpose to

do so.

pulling away, he looked up at you and pulled you

close to him by your waist, simply just gazing into

your eyes.

“i will never get sick of you.” he whispered , his voice

seeming to travel in the wind around your head.

you felt a smile quickly spread on your lips and you

cupped his face in your hands.

“i’d like to see Arden try and get that from you.” you

joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“they could never. no one could ever.” a moment

of silence sat between you two.

“i love you , y/n,” he kissed you again, pulled away ,

“my flower,”

another quick kiss to your lips concluded the closure

you needed. he loved you, and you loved him, and it

wasn’t just for show. ♡

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.* *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.*

a/n: FINALLY. i am so sorry. i’m so stressed out

but i love you guys pls eat my scraps 😞🩷

[plumpybread]

I have three kinks for you to rate! (Was gonna be two, then thought a bit more…whoops!)

1. POV Gaining: Whether someone enjoys getting a glimpse at what their future might hold, or getting into perspective at just what a particular character deals with daily and how they see themselves, I think POV gaining’s pretty fun! Seeing how their belly slowly (or rapidly!) takes up their view, seeing their struggles and contrast, at huuuge sizes seeing the chins, cheeks even, the sweat, sandbag chest, jackets of arm-lard, and little else…and that’s not even mentioning what it’d look like while they dress, eat, or travel…imagine them in tiny car, being fed or at lunch, seeing them put on a shirt that seems to fit, but they can’t see how they spill out from behind, or the extra inch revealed as at the bottom…

2. Generational/Family Gaining: Pretty common trope with you ;) Seeing large families, similar in build or attitude, but a difference in height, definitely in weight, the contrast there, along with the ‘normalcy’ of becoming another bed bound family member in a very thick, very wide family tree…of course, this had to start somewhere, some lovely couple that loved a little too much, and brought that love into families for generations, and those traditions spread out to every single member, no one untouched by the genes, and only recursive, since no one’ll change them, hell, probably add another one!

3. Rapid Gaining: For you in particular, I mean it in the sense of rapid over time, in the way that someone might gain 50 pounds in a month, then 100 over half a month, 200 over a year, then skipping numbers and breaking three milestones of a broken couch, outgrown cars, and needing more than one seats traveling, all in the span of a week or weekend…

Alright, lemme see!

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

I love playing with perspectives cause there's so much to write about on a topic like weight gain, and the way you describe it is SOOO good. I don't often find myself imagining POV scenarios cause Im more of a feeder than a feedee, but it's always fun to sometimes try to get into the eyes of a certain character and see how they live with such obesity through their view. I would actually love to implement that but it's hard to make POV art in such a way, but It always lives in a hidden corner of my mind

2. No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

LOOOVE dis one, you already know how it's pretty much the whole premise of my OC Anthony with the tradition of his family to get super fat. Biggest thing I love about weight gain is when it almost seems unavoidable and the environment they're in just pushes them to continue growing more obese, looooooove

3. No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

I know fast weight gain is a common kink, but unfortunately it's not my thing, whether it be instant weight gain or over the span of just some days, I don't really feel anything with it. The slow, realistic buildup and eventual spiraling weight over the span of months is much more my thing cause there's time to develop the consequences and changes in the life of the character because of it and I find that much more attractive than simply the physical growth of the character

[sunnysoulzz]

Casper Galloway x afab!reader

I couldn’t find any dead before dawn fanfics, so im writing one 💪 I love writing for nonexistent fandoms

Contains: virgin!sub!casper x afab!reader, takes place during the apocalypse, caspers got a praise kink :3, edging (m receiving), no mention of readers pronouns, reader is on birth control, (this also definitely wouldn’t fit in the timeline, also charlotte basically doesn’t exist whoops)

The sky was dark. The van was parked in a corner, making it kind of hard to see what was around from the inside. Your friends had gone out searching, you and Casper were left to guard the van/be the getaway drivers.

You laid on the bed, waiting for any sounds of danger. Casper sat at the table, doodling away in his sketch book. You sat up and looked at him, you always found him quite cute. You slowly stood up and walked towards him, peering over his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. He was obviously sketching you. You smiled and tapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped slightly and looked up at you. “Ah- hey” he said nervously, his hands moving to quickly close the sketch book. “What’chu drawing?” You looked from his face to his hands. Caspers face was turning red. “Nothing” he swallowed hard. You couldn’t help but smile, the shyness made him incredibly cute. You sat down next to him. He moved over, giving you more room. “Can I see?” You gave him your best puppy eyes, your hands already reaching towards the sketchbook. It didn’t take him long to slowly nod his head. You started flipping though the pages. Half of them were of you. Casper watched your face, looking for any signs of disgust or hatred. He thought you were going to hate him. His face turning more red the more you flipped though it.

“Are these” you began, “drawings of me?” You looked to him, you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it from him. He stuttered slightly, looking anywhere but you. “Uh..yeah..” his voice was quiet. “I think it’s great” you looked back to his sketch book, “you’re a real artist”. His eyes lit up “..really?” He leaned closer to you.

You nodded, “of course, your art is amazing”. His gaze was locked on you, his eyes traveled from your eyes to your hands to your thighs. He blushed. You glanced over to him, watching the blush grow on his face as he looked away from you. You placed your hand on his thigh, feeling him tense up under your touch.

“T-thank you..” he felt his pants grow tighter, he didn’t get compliments often. You noticed the way he shifted in his seat, you licked your lips as you smiled.

“Casper” you shifted to fully look at him, “you…draw me quite a lot” you looked to the sketch book, then back at him. “Is there something you want to tell me?~” you smirked slightly, he leaned back, his eyes widened, “u-uh..” he stuttered out. You leaned towards him. You looked down, his growing erection becoming obvious. Your face felt hot.

“W-well..I think you’re really pretty..” he still avoided your gaze. You moved towards him, placing your other hand next to him. “You know, everyone else won’t be back for a while..” you moved your hand up his thigh, “we could-“ “yes please” he cut you off. His voice was slightly shaky. You smiled at him as your hand moved to his bulge. He bit his lip, his hand gripped the couch.

You straddled him, purposefully rubbing against his erection. He whimpered softly, his hand moving to your waist. “W-wait” he mumbled, “I’ve never…” he looked away from you, his ears tinted red “..done this before”.

You chuckled, moving to hold his face in your hands. “I can tell” you kissed him, the kiss quickly turned desperate and hungry. You moved your hand down his chest to his pants, you rubbed his erection though his jeans. He moaned into your mouth. You unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down, letting his cock free. You rubbed your hand up and down his cock, using his precum as lube. You pushed his chest down, forcing him to lay down. You moved down the couch, looking up though your lashes at him before you licked his cock from the base to the tip.

He threw his head back, a loud moan escaping his mouth. He sat up on his elbows, wanting to watch you as you sucked him off. He laced his fingers though your hair as you started bobbing your head up and down. He tried to suppress his mouths by biting his lip.

It didn’t take him long to reach his breaking point. His breathing became heavier, he bucked his hips. His other hand moved to your hair as well. “Please I’m gonna-..” he breathed out. You let go of his dick with a pop. He laid back down, one of his hands moving to cover his eyes as he panted, “why’d you stop..”.

You stripped off your bottom layers, “because we aren’t finished yet” you smiled as you moved to sit on top of him again, happy you were on birth control. He looked up at you, his eyes half lidded and his mouth hung agape as he caught his breath. You rubbed his cock against your entrance, his hands found your hips as you slowly lowered yourself, wincing slightly at the feeling.

His hands gripped your hips again, practically leaving bruises already. “Oh fuck..” he moaned out. You bit your lip as you started moving. It didn’t take you long to speed up the pace. Casper’s hands still on you as he tried to buck his hips along with you.

It could’ve only been a few minutes of you bouncing on his cock when he throbbed inside of you, the grip on your hips becoming tighter. “W-wait I’m gonna-“ he whimpered out, his voice strained. You suddenly stopped, caspers cock buried inside you as you smiled at him. He groaned, partly from the feeling of being inside you and partly because you had just stopped his release “please- I need- stop teasing me~” he moaned out.

He looked up at you through his lashes. You started moving again, his cock going in and out of you as he smiled “yes- I-“ he couldn’t form sentences, the feeling of you being to much for him. He bucked his hips to meet yours, your moans filling him with a sense of pride. He wanted to make you feel good too.

You moaned his name. He doesn’t know what it is about you saying his name but he was filled with confidence. His hands held your hips in place as he started rutting up into you. Now it was you throwing your head back and moaning. One of your hands gripped his shirt, the other gripping the top of the couch. “Yes, just like that” you looked back to him, your eyes locked as he smiled at you. His eyes were half lidded, his face all red and his hair messy. God that pretty smile.

“Gonna cum” you leaned forward, kissing him as your hands moved up to is shoulders then to his neck while he held your hips in place. Your hand moved down to rubbed circles into your clit. That pushed you over the edge, you came around his cock. He didn’t take long to do the same. He slammed up into you, moaned loudly as he came. “Ah- s-sorry” he whimpered out, still hazy. You smiled as you laid against his chest “it’s ok, I liked it”. He blushed, if it was even possible for his face to be anymore red.

—

And then you had to spedrun getting dressed because your friends were back, followed by zemons. And from then on Casper was completely head over heels for you :] lol to the 5 people who know who this character is, I hope you enjoyed it 😭🙏 I haven’t properly proof read it but I NEEDED to write for Casper, why can’t I find any proper casper fics rahhh

[ganondoodle]

okay more elden ring DLC spoilers below the read more

what fucks me up the most is ....... that we never actually get to meet the real actual Radahn, hes either a rotting zombie or some constructed meat puppet with a manipulated soul of his

the most we know is from the base game stuff, his men and everything, but we never get to meet him- and now ... it undermines the whole festival, i felt like it was sorrowful goodbye and attempt to grant him an honorable death- that made me fall for him in the end, the lore around that and the whole build up and vibe of it, it felt so genuine but now you cant feel that, bc you know .... either way he will be suffering, let him rot for all eternity being a threat to friend and foe alike, as this mindless monster chowing away at corpses like a beast when he used to be a powerful respected general

or kill him but instead of giving him the death he wanted his soul is instead grafted into a meat puppet by his half brother so he can be controlled and made to agree to marry him despite rejecting it in life (as far as i understood it, he definitely did reject it though bc otherwise malenia wouldnt have tried to assassinate him to get him delivered over)-

so theres no good answer and im left wondering, did his men know of that? im gonna guess no, bc the whole point of the festival was to bring him HONOR when there was nothing of his honor left, of him left, and theres no honor in being turned into a literal marionette for your half brothers sick play

you could call it tragic, and it is, but it feels so much more ..... like just wanting to violate him even in death, just because he hasnt suffered enough, lets make it even more horrible just for sufferings sake (like i get it, i like when my favs also get to suffer, what happened to him in the base game was a part of why i love him so much- but theres a limit to that imo) it takes away from so much of the festival and everything, you are not taking part in one last final battle so Radahn can die fighting, you are handing his soul over to his half brother that wants to use him like a puppet, LITERALLY, to make a mockery of his memory, make him do things he would never have if he was himself, i cant think of anything more horrible to do to him

and his people are utterly convinced they are doing right by him, when the rot was probably better than what miquella would do to him, as horrible as that was.. and if they WERE aware then wow ....... i guess miquella really had everyone on his side huh uwu, like that sucks even more, so none of them ever felt and cared about him or were all also brainwashed YIPPIIIE

(not to mention how much interesting miquella lore gets twisted into actually he was just a scheming little creep and everyone that followed him was quite literlally brainwashed- i know the whole bewitching thing is like, his thing, but MAN- it feels like whoops it was all a dream and it never actually happened when its done bad)

(and i know Radahn is a fictional character but people are gonna pin it on him i just know it, like espeically those that dont care about lore and are just there for the fights .... like its not his fault!!! and i felt like he was already hated enough, first by his too hard boss battle in base game and now in the DLC its a repeat of that even harder (though i find the complaints a lil >_> bc i have seen people just walk right over story bosses so just ... overlevel yourself if you want to do that too, you dont have to fight a boss for three days, explore and level up?) and it was already annoying how malenia defenders AND radahn defenders kept trying to make the other into some horrible asshat, when they are both not great and thats valid, but now its??? )

[acerathia]

pink camellias || Chapter 6: morning glory

Chapter Summary:

morning glory: affection

Wordcount: 2.7k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Tags/CW:

royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

anyway, i posted this days ago on ao3, but im too lazy for tumbs whoops, enjoy

You had lost count of how many battles you fought through, no, rather you refused to count in the first place, the guilt of their existence more than enough for you. Still, you didn’t close your eyes to the situation, you kept your eyes wide open, making yourself remember what was happening in front of you, by your own very hands.

That meant that you fully realized what you were doing, yet never dared to stop the blade from cutting your way free. But your steady hand in battle did not mean your body didn’t lurch and shake afterwards, rather you only learned to push it farther away, to hide it into the corners of your body and to let it only fuel you afterwards.

Despite your ability to cope, you needed some time after each battle, just to sit in silence, to let yourself calm down, lest you swing a fist at someone approaching you. And at first, you sat alone, only your sword in one hand and a wheatstone in the other. Until the Captain started joining you, and you couldn’t outright walk away, as there was no other calm place beside this one. At least he had stayed quiet, not even greeting you when arriving there. So, in the end you allowed him to be there, allowed yourself to come down in his presence, only hearing the sharpening of two blades in the same space.

In a way, this meeting turned into checking each other, nodding to each other as a sign, ‘yes, i survived once again, and you did too’.

So, of course your goal in every single fight was to just sit there, just to survive another day. Even if it meant gritting your teeth and elbowing someone. A splatter against your cheek, and you ensure your life for another couple of minutes.

For a moment, you just stood over the person you had just fought, breathing heavily before you could resume the senseless battle. But before you fully regulated your breath sufficiently, you noticed a shadow looming behind you, and you barely managed to dodge the oncoming strike. Their blades missed your vitals, but it dug itself into the flesh of your thigh.

A hiss escaped you when they ripped their sword out of you, and you began to retaliate before they got ready for another attack. It didn’t take long for you to dispose of them, but longer than you had anticipated. By the time you were done with them, your own blood had soaked through your pants. You cursed and shifted your weight, as more blood seemed to pour out of you the more you used that leg.

Without another choice, you slowly retreated. But you were aware that you might not make it back to the camp in time, much less all by yourself. So, you did leave the battlefield, but rather found some covering behind a tree on the edge of the field.

Slumping against the trunk, you sat on the ground, taking all your weight off your wounded leg. With trembling fingers you grabbed the dagger, the one to only use if your sword and ax were nowhere to be found, but you doubted you could use them in the moment, at least not without making anything worse than it already is. You squinted, trying to focus through your current dizzy spell while slowly cutting through the fabric around the wound. But despite getting rid of that barrier, you were barely able to see the cut properly, blood pooling, making everything homogenous. So, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and cut some stripes loose. Ripping it in half again to make it longer, and you began to wrap it around your thigh, trying to stem the blood flow while also bandaging the open wound.

After putting a knot over the cut, you leaned your head against the trunk behind you, ruminating about the next steps. You didn’t know how long the battle would last, and you doubted anyone would find you in your little hiding spot. And you had to be honest to yourself, you had no idea how much longer you could remain here, as despite your clumsy wound-dressing you still were slowly bleeding out. The makeshift bandage already felt somewhat wet, and you thought to see a tinge of red peaking through already.

A sigh escaped you moments before you noticed a shadow looming over you, and for a moment you thought it might be the enemy as you grabbed your dagger, which you had carelessly thrown onto the ground. Pointing the blade to whoever was standing in front of you, only to lower it slightly. The person crouched to be at your height, and for a second all you could see was the sunlight filtering through strands of gold.

“Hey, what the fuck are ya doing?” he asked you with a scowl, yet his eyes kept flitting over your facial features, as if the answer was going to hide underneath the grime on your skin.

“How the fuck does it look like? I’m having a nice picnic, Captain,” you answered with mocking intonation, especially his rank.

His blazing gaze finally left your face to scrutinize the rest of you. And if you weren’t more concerned about the whole dying ordeal, you would have felt a tiny bit of shame at your sorry state, but you were too dizzy to care. Still, you could pinpoint the exact moment he noticed the blood staining through your pitiful bandage, because you didn’t know that the furrow between his eyebrows could go that deep.

Before once again, his eyes returned to watch over your face, trying to read you and your expressions. And without any more words, he stood up and reached a hand in your direction, waiting for you to take it to help you stand up. You did. You took his hand with no hesitation, because it was so easy to trust him, for some reason. Also, you didn’t want to keep bleeding out behind the trunk of a tree.

Once you were on your feet, he carefully slung an arm around your waist to support your weight, as you barely could use your leg at this point. This way, you both gripping, clinging to each other, you once again walked by his side, him leading the way, all while adjusting to your walking speed.

Your fist was hooked on his cape, only tatters left of the once majestic fabric. Still, you noticed the way his clothes were a painting of orange and the numerous splatters of red. And you couldn’t help but feel some sort of guilt, a guilt about letting him carry you to safety, once again, a guilt about not asking him about his well-being. But now it was too late to ask, wasn’t it? So, you stayed silent, following his footsteps with a twinge of pain running down your leg, imitating the warm drops of blood slowly running down, taking the same path.

Before you knew it, you both stopped in front of a wooden door, and you barely had the time to formulate a question in your head, as he immediately just opens it and enters the small cottage, dragging you like dead weight inside.

The door closed behind you with a decisive kick by him as you conveniently fell onto a chair, and you suspect that he tipped your balance on purpose. It was easy for him, considering the difference in strength and, of course, the wounded leg of yours.

For a moment, you just stared at him with a dumbfounded expression as he lit some candles and immediately began to rummage through one cabinet, obviously looking for something, but failing to do so, as indicated by his low curses.

But before you could get back onto your feet, he turned your way, some proper bandages in hand. And of course, you stretched your palm out to take them and use them. He was faster than you though, and he got the bandages immediately out of your way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Your hands are bloodied, you’re only going to fucking sully this stupid wrapping,” he sniffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Fine, fine! What do you want me to fucking do? Wash my hands? I also want that, but after, you know, avoiding bleeding the fuck out,” you raised your hands in surrender.

He scowled at your words before simply kneeling beside the chair. His free hand grabbed the ankle of your hurt leg, and put it into a position in which your muscles weren’t tense. After glaring at you, silently telling you to not move, he reached for the dagger in his belt. The mere sight of a blade made you scrunch your face, as you immediately expected some sort of pain, as weapons did.

But you didn’t feel any pain, none at all. That was because he was simply cutting the fabric of your pants away, making the hole you already made bigger and getting rid of the pieces stuck onto your skin. At least none were glued to your open wound, and you were glad that you had some foresight for once.

After your wound was freed, he pulled some sort of clean towel out of nowhere, and he started tapping it on the skin around your wound, the cloth slightly damp. And the moment he pressed it against your cut, you hissed involuntarily, realizing that he had put some alcohol on the fabric.

The sting brought some tears into your eyes, and you glared at him. But he only raised one eyebrow. “What, some silly burn is making you cry? If that’s all it took, then I should’ve tried that earlier,” he scoffed a little snicker, yet you didn’t feel the heat of his insult, as there was none.

You were aware that he was only trying to distract you with the usual fighting of yours. It didn’t work quite as well as he probably hoped, because for some reason you felt something else entirely stir inside you, something else but the usual anger and annoyance you usually felt at his sight.

Soon, the towel was put away, and he began to wrap the bandage around your thigh. And you were watching him slowly and carefully put layers upon layers onto your skin. You couldn’t help but notice the way the flickering flame made his cheekbones more pronounced, the way his eyelashes glittered like mist under his focused eyes, the way his hair glowed like molten honey. So, you kept staring at him, wondering who he was, who he truly was as a person, rather than his status in this army. Wondering why looking at him, why his presence gave you such a calm mind, made your chest stir.

And then he looked up, his eyes met your gaze. Those ruby eyes, those eyes filled with fire, with sunset. Blooming up at you like a red bouquet of azaleas, of anemones. Once again, you felt your chest stir, but this time your heart was joining, beating a message only you could understand. And you finally did.

Oh…

Oh.

Upon this dawning realization, you simply avoided his gaze, suddenly thankful for the sparse light, as you seemingly could not control your facial expression for a moment. You gulped a couple of times, trying to calm the flutter inside your veins, lest he noticed them.

Still, you glanced back to take a look at him, only to see him back on his feet and tinkering with something you could not discern from your spot. You ought to stand up and see what he was up to, but before you could even coordinate any movement, he was already shooting you a glare over his shoulder, one you only raised your hands in surrender once again before simply leaning back into the chair.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a prolonged amount of time before he turned around, holding a bowl with some water in it and a towel, this time simply handing you both with no instructions. You didn’t need any, of course, so you let the towel sop up some water and began to slowly clean your palms and the rest of your sticky hands until you started washing your face in a circular motion, putting in the effort of truly reaching into every possible crease and corner of your own skin.

After being done, the water all murky after cleaning the cloth in it, you didn’t necessarily feel cleaner, but rather less sticky. Setting the bowl aside, you leaned into the chair, again, and wondered what you were supposed to do in this situation, because you had to admit that you had no idea where this little cottage was located and how far it was from the base. You assumed the reason for its invisibility on cards was because it probably was some sort of safe house, so you were lost about your current whereabouts. Well, at least the Captain was apparently well aware of this place, so you weren’t completely lost, unless he just left you there.

Your eyes immediately jumped to where he was once again tinkering with something, staring at his back. And no, he didn’t seem to plan some sort of escape, and you quickly averted your eyes before your heart began to think for itself once again.

Something rustled outside of the window, and at first you thought it might be just a harmless animal. That was until a group of masked people almost kicked the door down or entered through the window. Your hands fumbled around at this intrusion, looking for some sort of weapon to hold, to prepare to defend yourself.

They had taken the Captain off guard, yet he was able to fend them off. But for some reason it didn’t seem like they were targeting him to begin with. And you were still vulnerable, no weapon in sight. You glanced around, looking for the dagger he had used earlier for the fabric, and you found it on the commode close to the bed.

Slowly, you leaned to the side, trying to avoid their attention for as long as possible. But someone stood in front of you, tutting as they noticed your plan. With your way blocked, you had no way to reach the weapon, so you had to improvise.

You grabbed the bowl from earlier and smashed it on the head of the person standing between you and the dagger. It broke into shards, and some cut into your skin, but that didn’t matter in the prospect of your enemy staggering and slumping. With this move, the way to the weapon had opened itself to you once again and you take your chance, almost yanking the dagger away from the top of the commode.

You glanced in the direction of the Captain who was still fighting off multiple masked people with ease in this enclosed space, and you immediately tensed up, ready to jump in whenever an opportunity arises. But before you had any time to even target one of the enemies, you felt a prickle on the back of your neck. Swatting away at whatever that was, you turned around to face someone slightly shorter than you holding some sort of syringe.

“Good night!” a young girls voice came from their direction, and you furrowed your brows, wondering what she could have meant with that.

Until a wave of dizziness suddenly hit you, making you sway slightly, your hand clutching the frame of the chair as you tried to hold yourself together. You almost forgot about the dagger, but the last remnants of your mind were conscious enough to make yourself slump over to be able to slip the weapon into one of your boots. You didn’t even have enough time to check if it was going to hold before you slipped from the chair and onto the ground. barely feeling your extremities anymore. Still, you tried to move anything, even the tiniest twitch of your fingers.

The last thing you saw were your fingers reaching for the Captain as he began to struggle with the mob. And you met his eyes before everything drowned into a silent black.

[lucindaspartnerrealandtrue]

okokok i NEED to know abt ur oc!!! im lowkey already obsessed w her whoops

We can be obsseseded with her togehter <3

I ended up properly RANTING, so I'll put it all under the cut so people won't have to scroll down a bunch of paragraphs about someone's random oc's lore

Mermaid lore

Me and a friend of mine decided that there are two types of mermaids in their universe, ignoring that there are other types of fish people. Ones that live in big lakes, these ones being bigger due to most lakes kinda being somewhat enchanted and for simplicity this is what we call sirens(even if they're basically kinda the same thing, but also sirens i don't think are even half fish but shh), and ones that live in seas/oceans, these being slightly smaller and we're just gonna refer to them as mermaids. Why's that? Good question! Fantasy reasoning I suppose, but to give an even more exact reasoning, i'd say that all waters are enchanted due to a reason or two but lakes don't have as much movement and in the ones that sirens are mostly found, the water also has a hard time reaching the sea so the magic gets to concentrate more? Anyway, even if they're cousin species, they do not fancy each other. Sirens need a big quantity of food as they're bigger(thinking something 7ft), while mermaids are smaller. Both species are somewhat hostile towards anything that comes from the surface.

Backstory

Manya was born in a group of sirens originally, residing in a lake, but she got lost when she was still very small and ended up in the sea(The Gal'ruk Sea, to be more specific). Now, she gets adopted by another shoal of mers that think she's one of their own, but as she grows up, they start realising that she's different, and by different I mean that she's a siren. So she ends up exiled from the only home she ever knew, as a teenager basically. That, of course leaves her bitter. She was kicked out even though she did nothing. Just because she's different. No one wants her around, and no other group would accept her. The thought of trying and find her way back to a lake does cross her mind, but, even if she does, then what? Will she really be truly accepted? So she doesn't do anything. Basically just decides that she'll remain on her own. Regardless, as any respectable mermaid, she spends her time by tricking sailors to their death. Easy lunch. (Not that food helps too much).

'Present' times

Now, she'd be appearing in season 3. Picking up from where it last left us, Aphmau, Lucinda and Lo are in the The Gal'ruk Region, and the girls went to search through Enki's library(if i remember correctly). Well, at this point I decided that SOMEONE from the main cast is coming for them to warn them about some big danger(probably Shad, or the Shadow Knights in general, i do not have this part entirely decided). And that someone i decided would be Katelyn(and Travis). Manya ends up stalking this exact boat, awaiting a new meal. She takes Aphmau's form. And now, well, I have a very specific imagine in my head; Katelyn leaning over the boat's fence, probably slightly sea sick, a rock gets thrown towards her, and she looks downwards and just sees this...head peaking out of the water, familiar orange eyes looking at her. Black hair framing them. And she's just like '????'. Manya gets out of the water, they talk. Things feel off but for SOME reason Kate can't put her finger on what exactly it is(she's in a trance that's why). 'Aphmau' gets on board(on suspiciously shaky legs)...Kate does realise that this Aphmau...doesn't have her markings/tattoos. She's starting to think it's just a weird dream. But before things can get worse, Travis interrupts.

From this point onwards, I do not have any SPECIFIC ideas for her YET except concepts...I know they take her with them and for a while she resides in a huge aquarium on the Phoenix Alliance island(she does not appreciate that, for multiple reasons). And she keeps stealing people's forms to mess with them. She does befriend them. Eventually. She becomes friends with Vylad first tho, somehow(they eat together in comfortable silence)...I have some imagines in my head of her and Zoey ahem.. And she does get freed later in the season after all the disaster happening around them starts getting easier to handle. But she hangs around because she will finally find her crowd. She's not that important to the lore as much as she is a plot B, but she does help with coordination. After they start getting on her good side.

Anyway, this is the story summarised as much as I could! Thank you for actually going through my rambling if you read this and I tried to keep it as organised as I could ^^

[triglycercule]

What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert

see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)

i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!

another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know

dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.

anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else

[agaypanic]

Back at it again with the gay Francis request 🫶

Can I get a Francis Wilkerson x male reader where he falls for a skater boy with anger issues? Maybe pre-military school??? Or they can just meet during military school whatever makes more sense. But like reader is just the classic early 2000s baggy pants, drinks mtn dew, video game addicted, but he's also very stubborn with a mean streak.

Reader just like "im going to punch you in the face if you keep talking to me-"

Francis: "-ok but THEN can we make out?"

Francis Wilkerson With an Angry Skater Boy Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: idk anything about skateboarding whoops, don’t let your friends pierce you unless they’re a professional

***

You probably met before Francis was sent to military school

The two of you were either in the same friend group or ran in similar crowds

When Francis sees you for the first time, he’s probably thinking “wow, he’s hot”

He thinks he means it in an “i wanna be him” kind of way

Which is a bit true

But it’s more in an “i wanna be with him” way

Francis saw you first, sitting at a table with some of his friends and some other kids he didn’t know. You were playing with a wheel on your skateboard, spinning it absentmindedly while Richie talked about something no one else really cared about.

He sat down in the only available seat at the table, which was right across from you. He gave a half-hearted greeting to everyone, too busy glancing at you every few seconds to pay attention to anyone else.

Eventually, you felt his gaze. You looked up, seeing that he was already looking at you. Francis’ eyes widened in a panic, but he couldn’t help but look away. However, the slightly angry expression growing on your face made him wish he’d stop staring at you.

“What are you looking at?” you asked in a hiss, hands now gripping your skateboard and back straightening up. Francis tried to stammer out a response, but it was nothing coherent.

“Y/n, chill.” Richie laughed, looking at you with his usual half-lidded eyes. “Francis is cool, man, don’t worry.”

Francis nodded quickly, hoping that that along with Richie’s statement would cool you off a bit.

And it seemingly did. After giving the blonde a onceover, which felt more like a glare to him, you relaxed back into your slouched position.

Despite your somewhat coarse personality, Francis still wanted to hang out with you

He doesn’t know how he did it, but you start to warm up to him

By warming up, it mainly meant you not glaring at him every time he got near you

Soon enough, the two of you were hanging out regularly

“On your right.” You muttered, focused on the violent game that you had on the TV. Francis had come over to your place after school, mainly to get away from his mom, so you thought you’d pass the time by playing the new shooting game you got.

Francis was barely playing. Instead, he kept glancing over at you every few seconds. There was something about the way you got heated so easily that got him excited. 

“Dude, you just died.” You laughed at him, and Francis’ eyes snapped to the screen to see that he was, in fact, killed. He sighed and tossed his controller on the bed, acting like he was annoyed when it really just gave him more of an excuse to check out your room. And you.

Keeping the controller steady on your leg, you played with one hand while the other grabbed your half-empty soda can. Francis watched as you chugged the remaining Mountain Dew, crushed the can, and threw it toward the trash can in the corner. 

“Stop staring, or I’ll punch you,” you said, catching Francis’ stare out of the corner of your eye before focusing back on the game.

“Yeah, right.” In quick response, you hit Francis in the shoulder. “Ow!”

The two of you like to get up to trouble

Graffiti some walls, smoke some weed, usual teenage troublemaker stuff

One night, while Francis was at your house, he told you about a little lecture his mom had given him

And how it made him want to do the complete opposite of what she told him

“You sure about this?” you asked, not really sounding concerned as you cleaned off the sewing needle you had taken from a random junk drawer. “Lois is totally gonna send you to military school.”

“Fuck it,” Francis said with a shrug, playing with the jewelry that he brought with him. 

“Okay then.” You shrugged, going over to your bed. You pushed Francis to lie down and sat beside him, staring down at him. “Don’t get pissed if I fuck it up though.”

“Kiss for good luck?” Francis laughed lightly. Even though it sounded like a joke, he was slightly serious. You thought about it for a moment. You supposed there were worse people to kiss.

“Sure.” You said with a shrug. Leaning over Francis, you pecked him on the lips quickly. “No homo.” 

“Wha…” Your actions put Francis in a daze, so he didn’t register you putting the needle to his nose as you pulled your face away from his. In a flash, the needle was through his left nostril. “Ow!”

“Don’t be a pussy, Francis.”

The two of you fell silent as you put some of the jewelry through the hole you had just made. Francis played with his hands, looking up at you as you hovered over him.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll hit you,” you murmured, your threat losing some of the usual seriousness you carried. Francis laughed.

“If I let you pierce something else, can I get another kiss?”

“...Fine.”

[saffronstoats]

please read!

pinning this until i get info on if people would read it because I actually want to make it so bad... my profile will be back later

gang i have a rw au idea [ shocker ]

inv infection thang. inv starts appearing everywhere and eventually starts basically weirdmageddon. all the guys have to team up to beat it [ umm during the great migration because i want gourm and crew to have to like. have a cool scene idk i have a really cool thing planned in my head

all the scugs will be in it. yes, truly all of them: even both nightcat and inv. yes even survivor and monk's unnamed sibling. yes even monk and survivor's parents. yes literally every scug featured in gourmand's outro scene. and more

what do yall think and what should i call it

it may be invenot based but it's not a crappost

past the keep reading is more details. i lot more. i rambled whoops

inv is less "haha dating sim" and more "im gonna ruin your life :) in the funkiest way possible! *does a skateboard trick and opens a pocket dimension*" "*puts on shades and suddenly reality is distorted* heheha!"

inv closes off the void sea ( probably pre story events or hunter would have already ascended ) so hunter surv and monk all are just like having to team up. surv monk happy family scene and hunter saving them from an inv clone or domething. yk the cool one in zombie apocalypse movies

monk and survivor are basically kids. again this is migration. so hunter is like their stepdad [ genderneutral ]

hunter cycles ending ( trying to avoid spoilers ) is probably inevitable. they might be able to meet pebbles to get it extended but I still don't think hunter will make the entire thing because there's no way this thing is >25 cycles long. sorry hunter ( you will be missed dearly /gen )

thought it would be sick if arti appeared too so i had to. extend her lifespan. also shes huge like. 2x normal scug size

spearmaster is genetically modified to be a messenger for who knows how long suns intended it to be so thankfully i dont think it's as much as a stretch that they're alive

saint is an eldritch being so they could probably mess some stuff up too

dont really. see how in the world rivulet could fit timeline wise ill be honest. they are literally the only one left out. ill have inv bring them in through a pocket dimension or something because otherwise there would be no ruffles and that would be sad

forgot to mention this but having so many attack oriented slugs just being the main cast without being together doesnt make much sense. so spear and arti are a team but they dont really get along or talk to each other much and also theres no firecracker sorry guys

ill probably be generally avoiding ships in this comic besides maybe some like enot shenanigans?? but i don't think ill really do much of that either because this isnt romance this is a bunch of rodents fighting a choatic rodent glitch god

the iterators exist too. tell me whether you want them off the strings or not. ill give you examples of what happens on either side starring suns

off strings: spearmaster and suns are the duo of all time and artificier is there too. she dragged pebbles along but he doesnt want to be any part of this

on strings: suns videocalls spearmaster a lot and cheers whenever they make a slight achievement

nightcat/watcher is probably gonna be part of the colony. theyre the scout

moon and sig will also definely be there, potentially innocence and wind too if yall want them. also maybe more itties idk. we'll see

rip sliver. because its your average timeline mostly sliver is dead ( rip )

all of the iterators if off the strings are actually terrible at combat and they cannot parkour so that would allow some funny moments. funny pebbles cannot jump to save his life or encouraging wholesome suns which do yall prefer

i find it funny how half the scugs are the cool one and then theres survivor monk riv and watcher. and then theres the iterators who are even more pathetic [ silly ]

sofanthiel's nickname will constantly change highlighting their chaotic nature. one panel they're enot then they're inv then they're paincat then they're sofanthiel then they're gorbo then they're blueberrycat- you get it

actually ill use a random number generator every time their name pops up. this is minimal priority but suggest enot nicknames.

current ones are: enot, inv, sofanthiel, paincat, thanksandrew, thanks andrew ( with a space ), gorbo, blueberrycat, ???, invenot ( one word )

if i make it i'll turn on scheduled posting for it and make sure to actually like. link throughout on like next previous first. if I have anything to say or elaborate ill post it in the comments

it would also be in a genuine artstyle instead of my little 10 minute lineless thangs. id line it and give backgrounds and stuff except maybe on April fools day

anyways yeah, what do yall think?

again what do i name it because i want to call it something cooler than enotpocalypse

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 2

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. Get ready for the first major change in the canon story-line hehe

Please enjoy reading! :)

"You want me to sing tonight, chicken?"

It's way past my bed-time. The sky looks like a giant film of blue cellophane above us, with millions of little white holes poked through. I pick out the shiniest one, 'cause that one's my Momma. Then I realise I gotta pick one out for Uncle Merle, now, too, so I pick the one right next to Momma's and wish him goodnight in my head.

After my Dad dragged all our stuff further into the woods, because we shouldn't sleep next to people we don't trust, we curled up in his camping chair and we haven't moved since. I'm wrapped up in a grubby gray blanket that I think used to be white, 'cause it's all we got, and I'm wearing two pairs of socks plus my Dad's jacket but it's still cold. I feel like a baby joey in a Momma kangaroo's pouch. Through the trees, I can see the main camp's fires all glittering like tiny orange fireflies and I can hear 'em all laughing. I think they're celebrating. Me and my Dad — We're mourning.

Tomorrow, they're heading back to the city to look for my Uncle Merle, even though we all know he's dead already. He's dead and he's gone and he ain't never coming back, so why does my Daddy wanna go get killed, too? Don't he know I need him?

"I don't wanna go to sleep."

"Well," He reminds me, "Sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. I'm sayin' it's time to sleep, so it's time to sleep."

If he wanted to talk about it, I'd tell him that I don't wanna go to sleep because it means that when I wake up, it'll be the day my Daddy either dies in the city or he doesn't, and then I'll be all alone forever. I don't wanna pick a star out for my Dad. But I don't tell him any of this.

"Now, you want me to sing, or not?" He asks me again.

"I said," And half-way through I'm huffing this out, I know I've made a mistake, but I keep goin', anyway, because at least if I make him super angry, he might wanna talk. Unlike Officer Rick, my Dad is easy to make angry. "I don't wanna go to sleep."

I feel his stomach fill with air underneath me. "Scuse me?"

I twist to face him. Half his face is glowing from the fire, and the other half is glowing just from how mad he is.

"I... don't... wanna," I spell it out real slow. That's what people do when someone's not listenin' properly. "Go... to... sleep."

I hear main camp laughing again. For just a second, I wish I was over there, instead.

I look my Dad in the eye. It's really hard.

"You lookin' for a spanking, Harley Dixon?"

"No," My voice wobbles.

"'Cause you keep back-chattin' me, that's where you're headed."

"But—"

"What I just say?"

I snap my mouth shut like a kettle lid. Does he even have the words in him? Do I gotta beat on his chest 'till they come flying out? Do I gotta kick and yell and scream 'till he can't hold 'em in anymore? What do I gotta do to make him talk? How am I meant to like it over here, in this lonely camp with no Momma and no Uncle and maybe after tomorrow, no Dad, neither?

"Quit that look, Harley Dixon. I'm warnin' you."

"No."

"You really gonna make me repeat myself?"

I snap.

"Maybe I'on care!" I shout. We're both shocked. Then, he's about to lay me over his knee and whoop me 'till I'm black and blue, but I don't stop for nothin'. "Maybe I'on give a crap! I said I don't wanna go to sleep, so why you makin' me? I don't wanna! Uncle Merle's dead! He's dead and you don't even care!"

"How can you say tha—"

"You don't care because you're goin' back to the city tomorrow and you're gonna die, and I'm gonna be alone again, and you don't even care! Uncle Merle is dead! Just like Momma, he's dead!"

"We don't know that, Harley."

"Yeah, we do! Rick killed 'im, and now he's dead."

"That ain't true. Harley, you listen—"

He grabs my arms, but I smack him away. He gets angrier.

He points a finger in my face. "Do not fuckin' hit me, girl."

"I'on care."

Now he really grabs me, and it's so tight I can't smack him at all, or wriggle, or even look away. I see two miniature versions of our campfire in his eyes, burning away. It's a familiar look. I start to cry. I wish I wasn't here. I wanna be in main camp, where they're laughing.

"You stop this bullshit right now, Harley." He says, low. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if it don't stop right this second, you're gonna regret it. You understand? Don't you ever hit me again. I'm leavin' tomorrow, and that's final."

"But why?"

"'Cause I'm choosin' to believe in yer Uncle Merle. You heard what all them said. There's a chance he ain't dead, and that's a chance I'm gonna take, because I'm a Dixon. Dixons look out for each other." He gives me a little shake. "If it were either one of us in that city, he'd be raisin' Hell on his way there already. Now, I don't wanna hear another word outcher mouth 'bout this. No more tears, neither. Got it?"

It's still not good enough. I want more.

"You wouldn't go back for Momma." I mutter, before I even realise that's what I've chosen to say. Somehow, that's the worst thing I've told my Dad all night, and I didn't even need to shout it. We stare at each other for a bit. "You wouldn't go back for her. You killed her."

I promised I'd never bring it up again, but there it is. I said it.

I think I might throw up again.

Just like that, our argument is over. He doesn't say anything, and then I don't say anything, either, and the not-saying-anything keeps going until we're back to sitting against each other in silence. The moon is high in the trees, now. One by one, the orange blips in the distance die. The chatter gets quieter and quieter until it's gone, and then me and my Dad are truly alone. He holds me tight, but it doesn't feel nice like it did before. It just feels like we're back to square one, because we are, and everything is a little to the left. Like when you get a pebble in the corner of your shoe, and you gotta walk a little funny to pretend it's not there, but it is, and you can feel it, and you hate it.

"You want me to sing for you, chicken?"

This time, I just say yes.

I watch the cube van drive into the distance until it's a white speck.

Dale stands next to me, even after everyone else has shuffled back to camp. "You've probably heard this from ten other people by now," Dale says, holding onto the strap of his heavy sniper rifle, "But your Dad? Well, he's going to be just fine. Toughest man in camp, I'd say."

My Dad, he's tough as nails, and he could shoot a walnut off a fencepost from a mile away, but he's also just a man. He's just skin and bones and blood like everyone else, like me, like deer and squirrels, and a bite from a dead person will kill him just the same. I don't say this to Dale.

He doesn't seem to mind. "Do you remember your first day here?"

A strange thing to ask. 'Course I remember. "What about it?"

"Things were a little more desperate, back then. We'd just ran out of our last tin of beans. People were hungry. I remember your Dad spent the whole morning telling people to leave him alone, because everybody was just begging him to go hunting. I think I did, too." Dale laughs. "One by one, he shot them all down. We were all so sure we'd have to start rationing. Then, the next morning, I go to wash my face behind the RV, and what do I see? Your Dad, dinged up and covered in sweat, dragging this... just... huge, simply huge... deer, into camp. I was gobsmacked. I remember thinking, 'who on Earth could have possibly convinced this stubborn man to go hunting'? Then, later in the day, I see him handing you a bowl of fried deer meat, happy as a clam, and that's when I knew he did it all for you. Tooth and nail, he made sure you were fed. And that's how I know he's coming back."

I think about all the times my Dad's done somethin' like that for me, like with Ronnie, and I feel a little better. My Momma once said my Dad would crawl back out of Hell on hot coals for me, and that I should never forget that. I feel bad for forgetting.

"I didn't tell him I love him, before he left." I admit to Dale. "I was real mean to him last night. I wish I told him."

"That's okay," Dale bumps my shoulder, and when I look up, there's a smile in his white beard. He winks. "I think he knows. Dads always know."

Something about Dale's cheeky attitude makes me giggle. I think I believe him.

"Now, lucky for us, we're certainly not short on food around here anymore. So, how about we go get you some breakfast?"

The day goes by like it always does, 'cause it don't know any better.

I can see Amy and Andrea fishing from the bank of the lake. Their boat looks like a little grain of salt in the middle of a giant green coin.

I'm up to my knees in the water. I'm trying to catch frogs. I'm missing. Shane and Carl are here, too, because even though we ate a whole sleeve of cheese and onion crackers for breakfast, Officer Shane says frog legs are gonna be all the rave, soon, when the peaches and jerky run out. We told him that's super gross, but he just smacked his lips and told us to grab our hats. We gotta do things like this, now. Things like sharing one tube of toothpaste, and only using two squares of toilet paper when you gotta go, and the adults gotta try and make it sound fun. 

I hear Carl somewhere down the rocks, going awww and man 'cause he keeps missing, too. All I know 'bout Carl is he can't spell 'adventure'.

"Hey, man, it happens. How you doin' over there, Harley?" Officer Shane asks me. "You managed to catch any of the little suckers yet?"

"No, not yet." I say. "But I can see 'em."

When we first got down here, Shane asked us kids to provide a little muscle for him. Shane's got plenty of muscle, already. He was just kiddin'. He does that a lot, and his laugh is real loud. He also gives high fives that knock you on your butt, and he's got a heavy walk and a dog tag. I think he must have taught little league, or somethin', before, 'cause he talks like a teacher. All fun and games, but also lots of rules. Like how if you say a bad word, he flicks you on the ear and tells you to mind your language.

I'm still not used to any of these people talking to me. I think they're just glad I ain't biting and hitting on them, anymore.

"How many's in there?" Shane wades over to me.

The only reason I trust Shane is because he's an adult, and adults can be trusted.

I count the frogs. "Um... Three."

"Three? Hm, talk about a gold mine, huh?" He laughs and, yep, it's real loud. "Let's see if I can't help you out here."

He sets our bucket down, which has two wet frogs slipping around inside it.

He rubs his hands together. "C'mon, girl. Let's catch us some frog legs."

He says they eat frog legs in France. I never knew that before today. French people are weirdos.

"You gotta get 'em quick, 'cause they're quicker." I warn Shane. It's something my Dad says 'bout squirrels and possums, so I say it now, too.

"Sure are." Shane agrees. "How 'bout I scare 'em out, and you try grabbin' one?"

"With my hands?"

"What? You plannin' on using your feet?" Shane grins, and he splashes me. I giggle. "C'mon. Get ready."

Officer Shane rolls up his blue sleeves. I take three long steps backward and squat a little, like I'm playin' basketball or somethin', and then Shane grabs the metal bucket and clangs it against the rocks, and all three of the fat froggies come bursting out into the water like wind-up toys. I almost panic — almost — but that's what idiots do, so I steel myself, which means I'm not an idiot. I lunge at the closest frog and wrap my hands around the green blob it makes under the ripples.

When I pull my hands out, I realise I've caught it. It's real wriggly and its skin is cold.

I jump a little, smiling wide. "Look, Shane! I got one!"

"Way to go, Harley!" Shane says, and if I pretend hard enough, it sounds like my Dad's accent praising me instead. "Look at you!"

I drop the frog in the bucket. I hear cheering, and when I look out, I see it's Amy and Andrea. They're clapping. I guess they were watching. Carl comes hopping over, too, and tells me I did a good job. I know he's a bastard cop, and I know his friend murdered my Uncle, but maybe Shane ain't so bad. He makes me miss my teachers. Maybe this group ain't so bad. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

We call it a day after that, and we squeeze out all the water in our clothes on the gravel shore.

"C'mon, y'all," Shane says, "Time to haul butt back to camp."

What he really means to say is ass.

The sky goes from blue to purple, and soon, it'll be black.

We're gonna have a feast tonight. A fish feast.

Dale, who's sitting up on the RV, because he's like a barnacle on a boat, reads us a poetry book while we scrape scales off of fish with plastic spoons. After the book runs out, we pop cassettes in the radio. It's nothin' like what my Dad listens to. It's too nice.

I try really hard not to think about my stomach. It hurts real bad, which is what happens when you're nervous. I realise, a little guiltily, that I almost haven't thought about my Daddy or my Uncle Merle all day, until just now. I say sorry to them in my head, because I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. I was just focused on other things, like doing dishes, and getting my hair brushed by Lori, and strippin' fish skin. It was easy, during the day. But it's gettin' late, now, and every minute that goes by, I'm closer to being the only kid in camp with nobody to tuck me into bed.

I'm standing on a crate, which means I'm almost as tall as all the ladies. Makes me feel a little better. All women remind me of my Momma.

Maybe if I ask, Lori can tuck me in tonight.

"Hey, Harley, you're doin' real good over there." Jacqui tells me. The sun's on her shoulder. "Doin' better than me, at least."

I mumble a thank you, because it's good manners. I done dressed plenty of fish before. It's easy. Like peelin' bananas.

"Our Dad used to take us girls fishing all the time." Andrea tells us. "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, you name it. We were out on the water."

"Sounds fun," Lori says. "I always wanted to go fishing with Rick and Carl, but it never happened. We were indoor people."

Jacqui laughs. "Not anymore, you're not."

Lori makes a face. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

"What about you, Harley?" Asks Amy. "Your Dad ever take you fishing?"

There it is again; my stomach climbing up the back of my throat like a balloon. "Uh," I mumble. "Yeah. A lot."

Carol asks me, "You like it? Being on the water?"

"It's okay if you don't." Amy scrunches up her nose, smiling. "I was never that into it. Motion sickness 'n all."

I'm about to say no, I didn't like it, but something stops me. It's true, I never liked stabbing the alive worms on the hook, or gettin' sunscreen smeared all over my face, or carrying all them heavy buckets full of crayfish and bluegills back to the truck, but that doesn't matter. I was with my Dad. And I liked that. So, "I liked it," I say. "We went every weekend, in Dad's boat. It was sorta old, but he liked it a whole lot. He let me name it."

Lori smiles. Lori loves when people tell nice stories. "What'd you choose?"

"I named it after our old dog." I tell her. Hey, I'm smiling. "His name was Tank. So, Dad's boat was, 'The Tank'."

Lori pouts. She loves animals, too. "Aw. That's nice. We had a dog."

"What was his name?"

"Fido," She scoffs. "You can thank Carl for that one."

"I can't imagine Daryl lettin' anybody tell him what to do," Amy chuckles. "He's always so grouchy."

Dale must be eavesdropping, because he leans over his fold-out chair and calls down to us, "Now, now, remember that time with the deer?"

The story he told me this morning, to make me feel better.

All at once, the women start giggling together, and nodding, yes, they do remember that time with the deer. I catch it, like a stomach bug, and I start giggling, too, because I guess it is kinda funny. My Dad, with his squinty eyes and angry mouth and big, scarred fists, doin' whatever I tell him to. I never saw it like that, because it's always the other way 'round. For the first time today, I'm thinking of my Dad, and it doesn't hurt, not one bit.

"Like a gaggle of geese over there," Shane shakes his head from the fire. He's laughin', too. Bunch of eavesdroppers, these people. "Get back to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Andrea salutes, rolling her eyes.

We can't stop giggling.

The fish fry is, basically, a family barbeque.

My dinner is hot, and greasy, and it's even got yellow rice and onions in it, like takeaway. Takeaway is always good. Around the fire, all I see are happy faces and all I hear are jokes, and gasps, and laughter. They're talking about college, and how Lori used to wear the ugliest skirts, and how, yes, Shane can confirm, he was there to see it and, no, it wasn't pretty. When I look through the trees, I imagine me and my Daddy's sad little camp on the other side, abandoned. I was right. It is better over here. I hope he would think so, too.

"W— Hey! They were in style, back then!" Lori holds her fork up, like a pointing finger. "Everyone was wearin' them!"

"Oh, I remember." Shane shakes his head. "N— No, listen, I remember, alright! So short it was like a damn belt!"

Amy slides off her tennis shoe and launches it at Shane's legs. "You can't argue with fashion, Shane!"

He laughs. "Oh, that's what that was? Fashion?"

"Hey, I got some pretty nasty pictures of you with that damn perm on your head, so you might wanna quit while you're ahead." Lori sasses.

We all picture Shane with a mop of curly poodle hair, prolly posing like He-Man, and we all roar with laughter again.

Up until the very last grain of rice gets eaten, we talk about everything and anything, because stories are all we got to give each other anymore, Dale says. Dale talks about how he planned to take a trip around the state with his wife, in their RV, but she passed away before it could happen. So, when the world ended, he was in a gas station, buying ice creams and lookin' at maps, 'cause he was doin' the trip on his own. He says he's glad that all the small decisions he's made in life has led him to this quarry, with these people. Everybody calls him a sap, but he gets a side-hug from Jacqui. He smiles over the fire at me. Andrea and Amy talk more about their Dad.

I talk about the tyre swing I used to have, in my yard. Shange suggests building one here, too.

Jim talks a little about his old job as a mechanic. Morales talks about how much he misses his recliner.

"Aw, man, I'm telling you," He groans, like he's in a deep, deep pain. "It was remote-controlled, and it had blue-tooth, and everything."

Shane slaps him on the back. "Too bad the world ended; Had to get off your fat ass!"

More and more warm, silly laughter.

It's around us kid's bed-time when Dale checks his watch.

The other kids all complain straight away, but we get dragged away, anyway. I can hear my Daddy's voice in my head, telling me sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. Lori and Carol take us around the back of Shane's Jeep, where all the bathroom stuff gets kept, like the gallon jugs of water, the towels, and stuff Glenn brings back from runs. We brush our teeth, and splash our hair with water, and use baby wipes on our armpits.

I can see the tippy-tops of the city's tallest buildings from here, like skinny black popsicle sticks in the smog. I keep lookin' back, for my Dad.

I'm lookin' right now. Everyone else is trying to find Sophia's hairbrush in one of the bags, but I'm not helping. I can't look away.

There's a figure, stumbling up the road.

At first, I think it's my Dad, somehow. When you're expecting somethin' so much and for so long, and with all your heart, it's the first thing you think of. Even if it makes no sense. If they were really back, they'd all be together; Glenn, T-Dog, Daddy, and Rick, because my Daddy would make them all stick together, 'cause he's smart like that. But the shadow's alone. And he's got a limp. Just a little one. He hop-shuffle-hop-shuffles closer to us. No, no it's not my Dad. There's no crossbow; no big boots, no backpack. The shoulders aren't wide enough. Actually, the shoulders aren't wide at all. They're droopy. Too droopy, like they're... like they're melting off the bone, like hot cheese melts off pizza.

I hear a gurgle through the night. That's when it all makes sense.

"Walkers!"

And one second after that, the fish feast goes to Hell.

Someone snatches my wrist. We go rushing back into camp, where there's people, and lights, and noise. And shouting. Lots and lots of shouting; so much shouting it's like being stuck inside a beehive. I see flashes of legs and t-shirts and hands pulling me around, toward the bonfire. The bonfire must be brighter than a lighthouse out here, in the dark. Suddenly, I'm noticing everything wrong with the fish fry. The smells, the noise. I'm remembering my Daddy's rules, 'bout how loud is dangerous and dangerous is stupid and oh God — I can hear Amy shrieking like a piglet, near the RV. I hear shotguns pumping and bullets exploding and sloppy plops of skin falling of the dead people afterwards. I'm screaming.

The bag — The emergency bag, the one in our tent. I should grab it, right? That's what I'm supposed to do, right? So we can live?

"Lori!" Shane's hollering. "Carl! Harley! Where are you?"

"We're over here!" Lori cries.

"Start moving!"

Everywhere, everywhere, legs, legs, legs, all rotten and slimy and dead. Then, a gap, filled with darkness. The tent is out there. The bag.

I can make it. I know I can.

"Harley!"

That's Lori, screaming like she's never screamed before, because I just broke away from her, and I can feel something hot sliding down my arm, and it must be blood, 'cause she must have ripped my arm open with her short razor nails. I run straight for the gap in the wall of dead people, and I throw myself past them, like they're bowling pins and I'm the ball, and then I'm on the other side, in the dark, dark woods, running, running, running, all by myself. I remember the path to our camp. Big rock, little tree, old fence. It's all there, it's just covered in night.

I hear Shane yelling for me, and Morales, too, and more screaming, more dying.

A dead man slams into me. We go tumbling into the branches and the leaves, and then down a little hill, and then into a ditch. I smack his growling face away from mine, and I kick his stomach, and I wriggle away. The dirt is slipping away from underneath me, like dust, but the roots are easy to climb so I climb those, and the dead man follows me out. He's swiping at my ankles, scampering for my legs, slobbering on his lips.

His nails catch my arm.

I see the tent.

I'm running again, but only for a second. It's my pants. They're stuck. The dead man's grabbing onto them. I kick his fingers off.

"Get away," I grunt.

The pebbly ground barks under my shoes when I tear off again, and it only takes a couple heartbeats for me to reach my Dad's camping chair, and then the black fire pit, and then the truck, and then the tent. I rip open the zipper and fall inside. The bag, the bag, the bag. I scramble for my Dad's sleeping cot, and drop to my knees, and pat around all the spare shirts and pants and socks and blankets he's got stuffed under here, praying, please God, it's gotta be here, like he says it is. My fingers hit something soft, then something hard. A buckle. I grab. I pull.

It's the bag. It's the bag, with the compass and the rope and the matches. I did it.

A branch cracks. I look over my shoul—

The dead man crashes on top of me, all two hundred pounds, through the tent lining. He squirms against me like a finger in a glove.

I scuttle backward as fast I can, under the cot. The dead man flops and turns and twists until he finds the tent opening, and he slithers inside, 'cause he's a hungry animal and I'm his food. An electric lamp clicks on underneath my foot. The dead man's shadow gets projected onto all four of the tent walls; big, like the bogeyman. I hug the bag like a teddy bear and then that's it, and there's nowhere else to go. His fingers reach for me, and they look like big, black, dead spiders, all curled up. I see his face, now. It's shredded. It's beaten.

It's Sophia's Dad.

Something clamps around my shoe, and it's his teeth. A whole row of thick, white teeth. A bite.

I squeeze my eyes closed and hope my shoe's thick enough to keep me safe. There's nothin' else I can do.

Then, a great, big bang.

Then, hot, slippery puddles of blood, and little bits of neck and skin and jaw, splattered across my face. He slumps. Is it over? It's over? His head's cracked open like an egg, and his brains are leaking out like yolk. There's a bullet hole between my two feet. That means — That means someone shot his shadow, through the tent. Only someone with a very good shot could have made that, without killing me at the same time. I claw my way out from under all the blankets, and the body, and the cot. I can hear voices shouting, Oh Fuck, Oh God, and, Where are you, baby, and, If you hit my daughter, I will fucking end you.

The electric lamp flutters off.

The tent is ripped open. 

I look up. I'm blinded by big, white circles of flashlight light. Someone gasps.

My chin crumples 'cause I'm crying, like a little baby.

Rick's standin' there, Sherriff's hat on, revolver smoking. Shane's there, too, wild-eyed, and very, very sweaty, with a shotgun. There's Glenn, panting. They look at the blood on the blankets, and the blood on my face, and their dead friend on the floor, with half a head. Then, they see the scratches on my arm, and for some reason, some of them look like they're about to throw up all over themselves. But the person in front, the person that got here first, that's my Dad. It's my Dad, and he's alive. He doesn't even stop to look, like the others. He doesn't care.

"Harley," He chokes, like he's been punched, and he drops to his knees in front of me. He presses me into his chest. He's alive. He's alive. 

I'm alive.

"Daddy," I cough-sob, 'cause I can't help it.

I only ever call him Daddy instead of Dad in my head, or when I'm really, really upset.

He must notice, 'cause the hug gets tighter; safer. "Baby, I'm here. You're alright. You're alright. S'alright, now."

I bury my face in his sweaty, stinky, dirt-smeared neck, and I never wanna come back out. I sob and I sob and I sob, and I sob some more. He pets my hair and shushes me, like how he does when I get nightmares. We rock back and forth. I sob, sob, sob.

Someone says my Dad's name real weird, like they're boutta keel over, and only then I remember me and my Dad aren't the only two people in the world. Footsteps crinkle on the tent canvas. Someone kneels next to me. It's Rick. He takes off his hat and sucks in a breath, glances at the others — He steels himself — and then he gently grabs my green sleeve, and I wriggle into my Dad, who's lettin' him do this, and he slides it up my arm. Fresh claw marks, and blood, pouring down my skin. We stare at my arm for a long time. They glance at Sophia's Dad. Why are we staring at my arm?

I look at Rick. I look at Glenn; at Shane. I look at my Dad. He's gone white as a ghost.

"Harley, what is that?" He whispers to me.

I look back at my arm. It's just some stupid scratches. I wipe 'em away, 'cause I want 'em gone. "It's nothin'."

"Harley," He says again, this time with a very clear, very angry, no-nonsense voice. "You look me in the eye. What is that?"

Something is very, very wrong.

Glenn has to walk away.

"Wh—?" I shake my head, sniffing. Why do I feel like I'm in trouble? I didn't do nothin' wrong. "It's nothin'. Lori, she scratched me."

"It was Lori?" Rick raises his eyebrows, like it's very, very important that I'm not lying right now.

I'm not lying. Rick, he's a liar, but not me.

"Uh-huh." I nod hard, so they believe me. "It was Lori. H— He got me, too, I think, but it don't hurt. I promise. He ain't do it too hard."

I didn't say the right thing.

They're all looking at each other. They're speaking without talking, and I don't like it.

"Daddy, what's goin' on?" I'm mumbling now, 'cause I only want my Daddy to hear me, 'cause I'm scared. I'm really scared. I don't know what I did wrong, and I don't know what they're thinking about, but I'm sorry, and I'll never do it again. I was so busy worrying about the teeth in my shoe that I wasn't thinking about anything else. I think I should've been, though, and I'm sorry I wasn't. I'm sorry. All I know is that I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm sorry. Daddy picks me up, even though he's told me over and over I'm too old for that, now. He's shuddering.

"We'll check Lori's nails." Rick tells him, nice and steady. His police-man voice. "If there's blood under them—"

"This bastard's got blood unn'er his nails!" Dad gives Sophia's Dad a hard kick in the head. I shriek. "The stupid fuck! It don't fuckin' matter!"

"It does matter. It does." Rick keeps saying. "We can't make any conclusions. Not 'til then. We just can't."

"You wanna talk 'conclusions', officer? Let's talk 'conclusions'."

"Daryl, we'll figure this out."

"How the Hell did y'all even let this fuckin' happen?" Dad yells. "You're like a fuckin' bad luck charm, you people!"

"This is nobody's fault." Rick says, but he sounds like he knows he's lying.

I can hear people panicking far away, back at camp, in whispers. Glenn ran back there a few minutes ago.

"First my brother, now my—?" Dad cuts himself off. He's about to cry.

Nobody's got anything to say.

We listen to the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping and the distant yelling and the breeze and my Daddy's big strong heartbeat, which is goin' buh-bump, buh-bump, buh-bump under my ear, real, real fast.

Shane steps forward, but it's all over already.

This is what it was like the night Tank got put down. I realise that I'm like Tank. Tank was dying. I'm a dying dog. The scratches on my arm, I get it now. They're from the dead man and they're from Lori at the exact same time, and until we know which it is, that means I'm dying. He scratched me — I remember, now. He got me. He did. I don't wanna be dying. I was alive just a second ago. I swear I was.

Unlike yesterday, Daddy doesn't bat Rick off when puts a hand on his shoulder. Something changed in the city today. I think we're all one team, now, even if my Daddy likes to bite and snap and blame. There's no more line between them and us. There's not two camps, anymore. Only one.

The stars are bright, tonight. I watch them twinkle over my Dad's head.

"If this happens," Daddy's voice cracks. "Every single one of you are gonna be real, real sorry."

Author's Note. Yep, you guessed it, Jim survives! And Harley is the one that gets attacked.

No more ominous hole-digging for you, Jim. Sorry.

Phew. This took a long time to write. I had to re-work almost every scene about four times, because some things just weren't working, and I had to delete some others. It all worked out in the end, though. Here we are with chapter two.

Please let me know what you think! :)