#it took me 120 pulls to get him ONCE.

[chalkonwhiteboard]

"Hand me my shovel...I'm going in!"

[c0llisiion]

DAY 23 — YEOSANG

★ npr, f!reader, face sitting , pussydrunk!yeo — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 512

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day23 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

“Baby… please… It won't hurt me, I promise..." Yeosang reassured you. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs as you cradled his lap. 

Yeosang had been begging you for months for you to have your pussy on his face. Lapping at your folds and tasting you in a different way. But you were always unsure and skeptical. You didn’t want to hurt your boyfriend by sitting on his face; what if he suffocates?

“Im not gonna suffocate, sweetheart... Just once, and I will show you how good I can eat you out with you on top of me…” He was slowly guiding you up his body, his eyes half-closed and his mouth in a sleazy smile. 

You pout and think about it before hitting his chest. “You better tell me if you feel uncomfortable, alright?” 

Yeosang's smile widened, and he was quick to pull your body up. Your crotch hovering over his mouth. His slender fingers pushed down your underwear, exposing your glistening wet pussy. 

He took a deep inhale, his mouth watering at the sight. 

You carefully adjusted yourself. Holding onto the headboard for stability and your knees on either side of his head. Before you could give a confirmation that you were ready, Yeosang pushed your hips onto his mouth.

His mouth making immediate contact with your clit, sucking and rolling the nub using his tongue.

You gasped out and gripped his hair as he abused your bud with his tongue. His mouth eventually traveled lower to your core. Pushing his tongue into the entrance and licking your arousal. 

You moan rather loudly at his sudden action. Your grip on the headboard and his  hair tightened as he continued eating you out.

Yeosang hummed in satisfaction against your pussy, the vibrations sending pleasure coursing through your body. Low, breathless curses left your mouth. Yeosangs tongue lapped and sucked you clean, spitting and kissing your hole. 

His hands kneaded your ass cheeks, spreading them and playing with flesh.

He grunts as he feels you pressing yourself against his mouth. The pleasure getting so close that you needed more of it.

You heard the grunt and immediately panicked before lifting yourself off his mouth and looking down at him with worry.

“Are you okay?!” You scan his face for any discomfort. 

Yeosang clicks his tongue in annoyance and slaps your ass, “did i ask to fucking stop?” He asks sternly. 

“N-no..." "Sit back down. Im not done yet.” And with that, he pushed you down once again, but this time making sure to bite down onto your clit softly, making you cry out. 

He moaned and groaned against your pussy. His voice vibrating against your folds, making you see stars. “So.. so good…” he started rocking your hips against his mouth. Smothering himself in your essence.

The pleasure was starting to get worse at every step. Your body unconsciously pressing down and gripping his hair tighter.

Yeosang chuckled against your cunt and kissed your entrance. He spoke, his voice slightly muffled. “Told you would like it.” 

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics @marihoneywk @mikaelless @paboskzfan @lezleeferguson-120 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @felixsangelicfreckles @vtyb23

[holly-opal]

Hi Pal is it OK if you can do mr. Puzzles x reader more romantic I just really am into romance and stuff sorry if you don’t feel very comfortable or not

Sure!

Tw: Low self esteem and depression

You stared into the mirror, you were crying for at least an hour, but felt like an eternity to you. You go to the weight scale and stand on it. Only 120. You kick it in frustration, hurting your toes in the process and you curl up in a ball. You sob into you knees once again, you felt miserable and useless. You pulled at your hair and bawled your eyes out, you struggled to even breathe from how hard you were crying. Then someone started knocking on the door very loudly. "Oh Y/N! You've been in there for a while! Are you done, dear?" Mr. Puzzles yelled through the door. You weren't ready, you were never ready. You weren't ready for this. You managed to mutter a no and put your face in your knees. He must've heard you crying, or maybe it was the tone of that "no", cause he kicked down the door immediately. This wasn't exactly a surprise, he would always kick down the door if he wanted something from you. He saw the state you were in and kneeled down, he picked you and held you in his arms. You tried to resist, but he was far to strong. And let's be honest. You are very, very tiny compared to him.

"Starlight, what's wrong?" Mr. Puzzles said as he cleaned your tears, you remained quiet and didn't respond. Which made him even more anxious and concerned about you. "Were the dresses not to your liking? Did you not like the food? Was it something I said or did? Are you sick? Are you hurt? Please tell me what's wrong, darling." He said, desperately trying to get to the root of your problem. You sniffled and managed to make him let go of you. You held his hand and took him to the weight scale, you stood on it and pointed to the number. Mr. Puzzles understood the problem almost immediately and picked you up again. You started crying again, you buried your face into his chest and hugged him tightly.

"Baby, you are beautiful just the way you are. I don't care how your body looks, you are amazing just the way you are, sweetheart." Mr. Puzzles said, rubbing your back and kissing you on the forehead (which just felt like glass gently pressing on your forehead but whatever), he carried you princess style into your dressing room. He put you down and snapped his fingers, he changed you from your formal attire into your maroon colored nightgown. Floating hands grabbed your hair brush and products, they started doing your hair for you. Other hands came over and started massaging your shoulders. And other hands started giving you a manicure.

Mr. Puzzles changed into a blue robe with a nightcap and slippers, as you were getting pampered, he made sure the bed was to your liking and even changed the sheets. Once you were done, he carried you to the bed and laid you down gently. You both snuggled up together, you had your head on his chest, using him like a pillow. Puzzles kissed you in the head and whispered sweet nothings to you. You began to get tired and before you went sleepytime, you said thank you to Mr. Puzzles. He smiled and caressed you cheek.

"You're welcome, mi amor."

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 2

word count - 2,404

Prev ... Next

Side note - Y'all are eating this damn fic up. 120 likes in two days is crazy and I appreciate all of you for being obsessed with the same man as me <3 Enjoy queens !!

After the night out, Y/n and friends went out the next morning for coffee planning to nurse their hangovers with some girl talk.

Rain tapped against the windows of the cozy coffee shop as Lexi, Angie, and Heather animatedly recounted their encounters with the hockey players, their voices rising with excitement as they relived the thrilling moments.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she listened to her friends' stories, a thoughtful expression playing across her features.

"He was so dreamy," Lexi gushed, her eyes sparkling as she described her conversation with one of the players. "And did you see the way Quinn smiled at me? I swear, I almost melted on the spot."

Angie nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I know, right? It was like something out of a romance novel. I could barely keep it together with Jesper.”

Heather, turned the conversation to Y/N. "I noticed you've been pretty quiet about the boys," she said with a mischievous laugh. “Someone on your mind?” she probed teasingly.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting back to her encounter with Jack at work. She took a deep breath before finally admitting,

“Well since you begged me so nicely. Maybe there is someone,” she admitted, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on the surface of her coffee cup.

Heather's eyes lit up with excitement, her curiosity piqued. "Ooh, spill the tea, girl!" she exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows eagerly. "We need all the juicy details."

"Well, there is this guy I met at work, but..." She trailed off, uncertainty clouding her expression. Lexi leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, while Angie and Heather exchanged knowing glances, their expressions sympathetic. "But what?" Lexi prompted.

Y/N sighed softly, her gaze dropping to her coffee cup as she wrestled with her thoughts. Rain continued to drum against the windows, a steady rhythm that mirrored the steady beat of her heart.

"He was really cute, like, ridiculously cute," she continued, a sheepish smile playing on her lips.

"But, I don't know, he just seemed like a player, you know All charm and no substance. I didn't want to get involved with someone like that, so I shut him down."

Her friends groaned in disappointment. Y/N shrugged, a pang of regret tugging at her heart. "I don't know, maybe I overreacted," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it's better to be safe than sorry, right?”

Her friends exchanged surprised glances, clearly taken aback by Y/N's revelation. But after a moment of silence, they nodded in understanding, offering words of support and encouragement.

Angie reached out to squeeze her hand in a gesture of support, while Heather offered a sympathetic smile.

Angie suddenly let out a high-pitched squeal, causing Y/N pull away and instinctively cover her ears in surprise. The sound pierced through the air, leaving her momentarily stunned at Angie's unexpected display of excitement. “Damn girl, relax!” y/n exclaimed back. 

Angie, her eyes sparkling with glee, waved her phone in the air triumphantly. "It's Jesper!" she exclaimed, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "He just asked me out on a date!"

…

The week had flown by in a whirlwind of work and routine for Y/N, but now it was finally Saturday—the day of the hockey game she and her friends had been eagerly anticipating.

As she made her way home from work, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building in the pit of her stomach.

Once home, Y/N wasted no time in tidying up her apartment, she set about lighting a few scented candles and fluffing up the cushions on her couch, all the while accompanied by her faithful feline companion, Hugo, who lounged lazily nearby.

she settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn and her favorite blanket draped over her lap, Y/N's phone buzzed with a notification from the group chat. She glanced down at the screen, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she read their excited messages about the upcoming game.

"Hey bitches, don't forget, the game is at 7 tonight!" Lexi's message read. "We need to meet Quinn at the back of the stadium to get in. Can't wait to see you all there!"

With a contented sigh, Y/N leaned back against the cushions, her gaze drifting to the television screen as she queued up an episode of "The 100." It was the perfect way to pass the time until it was time to start getting ready for the game.

The drama unfolds onscreen, Y/N felt herself relaxing into the familiar rhythms of the show, the tension of the week melting away with each passing minute.

But just as she was getting caught up in the action, her phone buzzed again. Y/N glanced down at her phone again, confusion crossing her face as she noticed a new message from an unsaved number.

Frowning in confusion, Y/N set her bowl of popcorn aside and picked up her phone, her heart rate quickening as she read the cryptic message that flashed across the screen.

‘I hope you're happy with what you've done. You might think you've won, but remember, everything has a way of coming back around.’

For a moment, she felt a shiver of unease run down her spine, but she quickly shook it off as a prank and tossed her phone back onto the coffee table.

Refusing to let the strange message ruin her mood, Y/N pushed the unsettling thought to the back of her mind and focused instead on heading to the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for what promised to be an exciting evening ahead.

…

The train rattled along the tracks, carrying Y/N to the Prudential Center, the crisp fall air nipped at her cheeks as she stepped off the train. Y/N followed the gps towards the back of the stadium, her breath forming small clouds in the chilly air.

The sight of the towering arena ahead sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine, and she quickened her pace to reach the group.

Her friends shrieked with excitement as they caught sight of her, she was relieved to see them and eagerly joined in on their chatter, trying to forget about the strange text she had received. Lexi, Angie, Heather, and Y/N followed Quinn inside nearly bowling over Quinn in their haste to escape the cold.

Laughter filled the air as they huddled together, eager to find refuge inside of the arena. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors as they made their way toward the stands.

Y/N couldn't help but be awestruck by the sight that greeted them. The vast expanse of the arena stretched out before them, the ice glistening under the bright lights as the hockey players practiced their moves with precision and grace.

"Wow, it's so quiet in here," Angie remarked, her voice hushed in awe as they entered the arena. "I've never been to a game this early before."

Y/N nodded in agreement as they approached the glass overlooking the rink. Quinn grinned at her excitement, gesturing towards the action on the ice. "Wait until you see them in action," she said, her voice filled with pride. "My brother is really good, I should introduce you after the game."

With Quinn leading the way, they made their way to their seats towards their reserved suite at the top of the stadium.

The sound of skates slicing through the ice echoed through the arena, punctuated by the occasional thud of a puck hitting the net. Quinn pointed out some of the star players as they effortlessly executed maneuvers.

Lexi wasted no time in engaging Quinn in playful banter, her flirtatious antics earning a chuckle from Y/N as she watched the scene unfold. The two teased each other mercilessly, their laughter blending with the hum of conversation around them.

Just as the announcements ceased and the players took to the ice, Quinn's voice rang out from behind her, drawing their attention to the jumbo screen overhead. "That's my brother," he exclaimed, her voice tinged with pride as he pointed to the live image of Jack Hughes, the player Y/N had met at work.

A gasp escaped her lips, barely audible over the roar of the crowd, as she sank down in her seat, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

She couldn't believe her luck—or rather, her lack thereof. Of all the places to run into Jack again, why did it have to be here, at a hockey game, with her friends by her side?

The puck dropped, and the players hit the ice with a burst of speed, Y/n's eyes followed the action on the ice, her pulse quickening with each passing moment as the Devils and the Krakens battled it out on the rink.

"Wow, they're really going at it," Lexi exclaimed, her eyes glued to the players as they executed intricate maneuvers with ease. "It's like watching a bunch of rats chase after food."

"Isn't he amazing?" Quinn gushed, oblivious to Y/N's inner turmoil. "He's playing so well this season." Y/N forced a smile, murmuring praise through gritted teeth. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jack on the screen, his familiar face.

The sound of the horn blaring through the arena cut off their conversation abruptly, the deafening noise signaling the Devils' goal and igniting a frenzy of cheers and applause from the crowd.

Y/N's friends were swept up in the excitement, their voices blending with the roar of the crowd as they celebrated the team's success.

But for Y/N, the shock of seeing Jack on the ice lingered in the back of her mind, casting a shadow over the euphoria of the moment. As the buzzer sounded for intermission, her friends turned to her with concerned looks, their questions hanging in the air.

Before she could even begin to explain, Heather let out a chuckle, nudging her playfully. "That's the guy, isn't it?" she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement as y/n nodded. "Looks like fate has a funny way of messing with you."

Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend's teasing, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself. "Yeah, it's like the universe has a twisted sense of humor," she replied dryly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Guess I should've brought a disguise or something." 

…

They exited the suite, Quinn practically bounced up and down in excitement, her energy infectious as she addressed the group. "Do you guys wanna come with me to the after-party? The boys want to head to this bar by the beach."

Before Y/N could even respond, the other girls screamed "Yes!" in unison, their excitement matching Quinn's enthusiasm. "Absolutely!" Lexi chimed in. "I'm ready to get fucked up!" A hearty laugh bubbled up from Quinn's lips at their unanimous response, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

The ride to the bar was short but filled with chatter and laughter, the anticipation of the evening ahead palpable in the air. they piled out of the vehicle and made their way down the steps to the entrance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of giddiness coursing through her veins.

Sounds of laughter and music mingling with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation. The players moved around in a jovial stupor, shouting greetings and exchanging high-fives as the girls made their way through the crowd. She scanned the crowded room, her eyes searching for one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers.

And then she saw him.

Jack stood in an adjacent room, his fluffy brown hair caught the dim light of the room, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the soft curve of his lips. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched him, her pulse quickening with every step she took.

With each stride, she could feel her confidence growing, her nerves slowly melting away. She threaded her way through the crowd, her gaze fixed on Jack as she approached.

As y/n drew closer, she noticed Jack engrossed in a game of pool, his focus laser-sharp as he lined up his shot. Y/N couldn't help but smile to herself at the sight, her heart thrumming against her chest drowning out the music.

She crept up behind him, the sound of her footsteps lost amidst the din of the bar. Standing on the tips of her toes, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Hi, stranger."

Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it cut through the noise of the room like a knife. She watched with bated breath as Jack's shoulders tensed, his grip on the pool cue tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, Jack turned to face her, his expression a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

Y/N held her breath at his response. He turned to face Y/N, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that she couldn’t understand. For a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of existence.

This was her chance, her moment to make a lasting impression on the man who was slowly capturing her mind from the moment she first laid eyes on him.

"Well look who it is," Jack finally replied, his voice low and husky as he returned her greeting. There was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he studied her, glancing down to the dress that clung to her body.

She took a step closer placing her hands on her hips, closing the distance between them until there was barely a few inches of space separating their bodies. "I couldn't resist saying hello when I saw you here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?"

Jack's smile widened at her words, "It certainly does," he agreed, his tone tinged with a hint of intrigue. "And who am I to argue with fate?"

With a smile that felt like it could light up the entire room, Y/N turned back to Jack, her eyes shining with anticipation. "So, stranger," she said playfully, her voice filled with warmth. "Are drinks still on you?

Jack smirked in response, leaning in closer after you stepped away, noticing every inch of the way to looked in front of him. "i thought you'd never ask. Drinks are definitely on me."

 …

[fairlyang]

Fun II 🕷️

ghostface!miguel having his way with you once again

w/c: 2.1K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x nerdyfem!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of murder, blood, knives. innocent reader, miguel is a perv, eating out, getting caught

part one

It took two full days for someone to find the bodies stacked on each other, given the frat house was huge and the guys only cleaned up the kitchen and living room.

But because the girls were in costumes and the guys told the police they had a Halloween party two days prior, it was physically impossible to find out who did it.

All they could really do was just have guards for them outside the frat house not knowing this was all done just for the killer to be with the one he loves.

And the cops specifically told them, no more parties. But what did the frat guys do anyway?

They threw a party on Halloween because of course they had to.

You were a hot mess and grieving terribly, two of your closest friends were murdered at the party they dragged you to, how were you suppose to feel?

Well according to your last remaining friend, why not go back to the murder scene for the Halloween party to have some fun?

You called her crazy to which she just waved you off and took you to a Halloween store to get a sexy costume.

You decided on Harley Quinn, with the "Daddy's lil monster" shirt and the half red half blue booty shorts. You decided to not go with the wig because they looked awful so you got some temporary pink and blue hair dye and prayed it'd be fine.

Meanwhile Miguel was preparing his ghostface attire for its final use while looking at his assortment of knives but keeping his buck 120 close to him.

It was finally time for the party, and you were all dressed up, hair up in two pigtails walking in with your friend who was in a Cat Woman outfit.

She immediately went off to do her own thing which bummed you out but there wasn't much you could do except go off to a quieter part of the house.

And with Miguel's luck he quickly saw her go into a room with a guy. Only makes his job easier.

He followed them and waited outside, just a good thirty seconds before opening the door and closing it shut before sneaking up on them already making out, somehow unaware of his presence.

He hopped on top of the bed pulled the man by his shirt and stabs him in the back. He spat out blood on top of your friend and right before she was about to scream, Miguel took the knife out and leaned forward, stabbing her tongue.

Her mouth made gurgling noises, still attempting to scream but just making herself choke on her own blood instead. He pulls his knife out and gets off the bed, stabbing boy toy once more for good measure before cleaning off his knife with the dude's shirt and walking towards the door.

He opens it and quickly closes it, before stuffing the knife into his robe pocket. He then walks off, moving past bodies in search for wherever you were hiding this time.

He walked all over the place, not finding you. He even checked off to the backyard with no luck.

He then stopped and walked over to the study room because surely there wouldn't be anyone in here.

He opens the door and of course there you were. He sighs and you look up with a puzzled expression prompting him to take his mask off, "Just me pretty girl." He says, waving his mask before closing the door shut.

"Hi Miguel!" You greet sweetly and give him a little wave.

His heart beat rapidly and he knew there was nothing from stopping him from being with you now. You could be all his.

"Abandoned again angel?" He pouts and you shrug as he walks close to you, admiring your costume.

How tightly the shirt fit and how those shorts were barely covering anything. Your thighs looked so gorgeous against that leather couch and there was nothing more he wanted them to be between them.

"Getting used to it by now." You joke making him chuckle as he takes a seat next to you.

"You look as gorgeous as ever." He says as he takes a seat right next to you, letting his leg barely touch yours.

"Thank you! Came as ghostface again huh?" You say turning your body to face him, crossing a leg over the other driving him insane.

"Yeah didn't feel like getting a new costume. What don't like masked killers?" He says as he looks at how those pigtails looked.

How pretty they would look in his hands while you su-

"I feel like everyone's a masked killer nowadays! Maybe Superman would've looked good on you." You answer innocently not thinking of how Miguel would take this compliment.

"Not as the joker then?" He whispers in your ear, wrapping his right arm over your shoulder.

You felt your face heat up as he grazed along your skin, memories coming back from the last time he caught you alone. How his fingers felt.

"M-maybe as the joker." You mumble, looking down at your boots to avoid his gaze, feeling suddenly shy and like wanting to hide.

"You're just so sweet." He whispers and leaves a soft kiss below your ear making your heart race.

"And so pretty." He murmurs leaving another kiss and bringing his left hand down to your thigh.

You gasp as he squeezes but quickly bite your lip, too embarrassed to say anything. "Y'know I haven't stopped thinking of you. I never do honestly." He admits, nibbling on your ear gently before pulling away and continuing, "but after last time it's been even worse."

"W-Why?" You stutter, eye fluttering as his left hand caresses your thighs gently while his right was trailing along your neck.

"Because I might be falling in love with you angel." He murmurs making you shake and almost let out a whimper.

His left hand was rubbing circles against your inner thigh as his right was nearing your right breast. "M-me? Why me?" You stutter and he sighs.

"It's always been you pretty girl, your friends just didn't want you near me for some reason." He says and leaves more kisses down your neck as you breathed heavily.

"S-Said you were p-picky." You mumble and lean your head back as his hands get closer to where you needed them.

"They lied." He spat before clearing his throat, "they didn't know me."

"But I'd love for you to get to know me." He says, now coming back up to look at you.

You bite your lip innocently thinking of what to say but for Miguel it only made his cock grow hard especially with the way your eyes were looking at him. God he needed you.

"What do ya say pretty girl?" He whispers, hoping for best case scenario if not he did all those murders for nothing.

You slowly nod making him grin, taking his left hand from your thighs and brings it up to cup your cheek. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes had a new tint in them. Arousal?

His assumption was answered when you squeezed your thighs together and looked away from him. He looked down at your thighs and nearly groaned, you were already driving him so crazy. Unknowingly too.

He leans in, kissing you so gently as if you'd break if he were to full on make out with you. You kissed back and melted into his touch, practically fitting between his arm perfectly. Like you were made for him.

And as much as he wanted to take it slow with you and at your own pace he needed to taste you.

So he pulled away and let go of you making you pout, stinging his heart for a few seconds while he dropped down to his knees in front of you. You gasped as he reached up to undo your shorts with haste, "M-Miguel-"

You lift yourself up and he slides them off all the way down. He then spreads your legs apart making you whine while he salivated looking at your pair of red lacy panties. He looked up at you and you had such an innocent look on your face, almost needy.

He could tell you needed his mouth just as much as he needed to taste you. And he wasn't going to wait for confirmation.

He leaned in and left a soft kiss on your clit making you whimper and buck your hips up, poor girl already needing more.

So he gave it you.

He went down and licked up your clothed slit until he got to your clit and with a swift motion moves your panties to the side and starts sucking on your clit voraciously making you cry out above him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and went down to get a better taste and you were so soaked, he had barely touched you and you had drenched your panties. My perfect girl, he thought to himself as he lapped at your folds and brought a hand down to his hard on.

You brought your hands down to his hair as you felt new sensations you've never felt before and were deeply glad it was Miguel who was making you feel good.

Even after all your friend's wanting you somehow ended up with a little crush on him. Because of their words you didn't think it would ever be mutual and kept away. Clearly they lied with the way he was practically eating you out like a starved man.

Your hands gripped onto his curls while he moaned against your pussy, never having tasted anything so sweet and perfect. You tasted better than he remembered and he's happy his plan worked for the better.

"Miguel — feels s-so good-" you moan and buck your hips into his mouth.

He brings his hand to your pussy and goes back up to suck on your clit while he teased your hole with his finger. You whimpered and your poor cunt squeezed against thin air as he'd pull his finger away at the perfect moment.

"Miguel please- I promise I'll be your good girl again." You whimper making him groan against you.

Those dirty words coming from such a sweet innocent girl. He was falling even harder.

He slipped two fingers inside, your walls gripping them as he slowly pumped them inside you. "Fuck!" You cry out and lay your head back to the couch.

He then stops moving and let's you adjust as you pleased before he slowly started pumping them inside you, wanting to prep you because he needed to be inside you tonight.

He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue while his digits started fucking you faster only increasing your moans and how tightly you'd hug his fingers. His good girl.

You let out more moans along with dirty words which only made his pants feel tighter and his pace increasing. He wanted to see you on your knees so fucking badly. You'd look even prettier with his cock in your mouth. Probably won't be able to take all of him given your inexperience but he wants to teach you and be your first everything.

He hadn't even realized how long he was thinking of everything he wanted to do with you until he felt you clenching against his fingers and you were crying out that you needed to cum.

He pulled away from your clit and murmured, "Cum for me pretty girl I've got you."

You nodded and whimpered as your orgasm hit you hard and left your entire body shaking as Miguel continued fucking your poor cunt until your creamy juices spilled out of you.

He stopped and pulled his fingers out of you slowly, and moved his head back to look at you, so pretty and breathing heavily. Poor girl.

He left a kiss to your thigh before fixing your panties when suddenly the door opens and he almost grabs his knife to throw it at whoever opened the door but opts against it. You gasped and tried to cover yourself but Miguel got you covered as he quickly sat on the couch, covering your body before yelling, "look at her and I'll kill you!"

Your poor body was so fucked out already but as soon as you heard the door shut you went back to reality. "M-Maybe we stop there." You say quietly and he turns around to look at you before leaning down to grab your shorts off the floor.

"That's alright with me angel." He says and kisses your cheek before turning back around to let you put on your shorts.

[infamous-if]

.2

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console. 

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking. 

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

 He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs. 

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless. 

Never date your co-workers. 

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing;  he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.” 

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib. 

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.” 

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“ 

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.” 

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company. 

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him. 

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes. 

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.” 

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.” 

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance. 

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.” 

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head.  “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day. 

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening. 

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together. 

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference. 

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands. 

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

 “Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.” 

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes. 

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage. 

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer. 

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this. 

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two. 

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.” 

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for. 

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there. 

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . . 

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life. 

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time. 

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary. 

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts. 

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks. 

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.” 

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . . 

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company. 

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion. 

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides. 

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce. 

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad. 

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce. 

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted. 

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves. 

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.” 

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away. 

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts. 

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside. 

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.  

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it. 

Because all he needs is one. 

[fanfics4all]

Fainting

Request: Yes / No Thank you @badthingshappenbingo​ for my card! 

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Fangs Fogarty x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 3747

Warnings: Bulimia, Self-harm, Starvation

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Prompt(s):

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Fangs and I have lived together for about a month now, and in that month I’ve managed to hide the fact that I fucking hate my body. No one knew and I was too worried about being judged to tell anyone. I knew deep down that Fangs would never judge me, I mean we’ve been dating for three years now, but the voices always win in the end. So that’s why I spend a lot of time in the bathroom whenever Fangs goes out without me. 

“I’ll be back in a bit, babe!” Fangs called. He was going out with Pea for a job with the Serpents. 

“Okay! Be careful!” I called back. Ironic I’m telling him to be careful when I sit at home and throw everything up. 

“I will, love you!” He said. 

“Love you too!” I said and heard the door close behind him. I waited a bit to make sure Fangs wouldn’t walk back in because he forgot something. The last time that happened I pretended to shower so he wouldn’t hear me. Once I was sure he wouldn’t come back I got off our bed and walked into the bathroom. I pulled out the scale and took a deep breath before I stepped on it. I closed my eyes and tried my best not to shake. I took another calming breath and slowly peeled my eyes open to look at the horrid number. 130 pounds… I sighed, at least I lost two pounds since yesterday. I didn’t really eat anything yesterday. Or the day before. Or the day before that. In fact, I couldn’t really remember the last time I ate a proper meal in which I didn’t throw up a few hours later while Fangs was asleep. It was probably a year ago? Someone at school made a comment about me that I brushed off in the moment, but it was like a silent switch flipped in my brain. After that, I went home and stared at the mirror, noticing all the imperfections about myself. That was the day I decided to lose weight. When normal methods weren’t working, I turned to the extreme. It was the only thing that gave me results… It didn’t help that I started comparing myself to people Fangs talked to. The girls were way prettier than I am. The boys were skinnier than me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Fangs chose me out of everyone. I couldn’t think of any reasons that Fangs stayed with me all this time, or even why he asked me to move in with him after my trailer burnt down. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy with Fangs, but something in my head just isn’t on the same page as my heart. 

I sighed and looked down at the number once again. 130 pounds. It was below the average weight of my age group, but 120 or even 110 would be way better. I stepped off the scale and looked at myself in the mirror. 

Look at your thighs, they’re so fat. Don’t forget that huge stomach of yours. Did you see that girl he was talking to at the bar last week? Now she was perfectly skinny. The perfect body. 

I sighed and ran my fingers over my body. Fat. That was all I could feel. I was fucking fat. No matter how little I eat, or how much I worked out. I will always be fat. Fat and fucking ugly. I would never be perfect like those people Fangs talk to. I took off my clothes and looked in the mirror again. I stared at my stomach. Even though the scale says I got smaller, to me it looks like my stomach has grown another twenty pounds. My stomach growled as I lightly touched it. I hated the hunger pains, but the feeling of emptiness was too addictive. I love feeling like I finally was in control of my body. I moved my hands down to my thighs and felt the small scars that were slightly raised. When I first started that’s how I would punish myself when the workouts didn’t work, or if I gained another pound or two. That didn’t last long since Toni found out and told Fangs. I wasn’t too attached to the cutting, so that was easy to stop. The sharp pain as the razor glided through my skin, pulling beads of crimson up through the cut, wasn’t as good as the starving. It didn’t make me feel better like not eating. I shook my head and glanced over at the toilet. I’ve become very acquainted with it. My head was shoved inside it at least twice a day. Sure my stomach was empty, but I knew I could still get some stuff out of me. I kneeled down and gently lifted the lid. I stared down into the toilet and took a few breaths. Throwing up on an empty stomach always hurt, but it was worth it to lose those few pounds. I opened my mouth and took my pointer finger into my mouth. I slowly pushed it to the back of my throat and gagged once I found the spot. I was good at not pulling my finger out when I gagged now, so I just kept pushing on it. My stomach was screaming in pain as it tightened with each gag. It took a few minutes, but eventually, I felt the burning creep up my throat. I pulled my finger out and leaned over the toilet. I watched as the bile flew into the water and already felt a little lighter. It wasn’t much, but every little bit helps. I took a few breaths to recover and quickly pushed my finger back inside my mouth. Once again it took a bit, but I eventually threw up more bile. It still wasn’t enough though. I kept going and going until my head started to spin. I felt really dizzy and weak, but it was working. I felt lighter. I kept going until black dots invaded my vision. I fell back on my ass and held my head. 

“J-Jus-st a b-bi-it mo-ore…” I slurred to myself. I tried to get back up so I could finish, but I just fell to the floor more and my vision turned completely black… 

*Fangs POV* 

I walked back into the trailer with a smile as I carried some Pop’s for me and Y/N. I placed the bags and drinks on the coffee table and noticed Y/N wasn’t there. Must be in our room with her laptop or something. 

“Babe, I’m back! I brought Pop’s.” I called but got no answer. 

“Baby?” I called again, thinking she couldn’t hear me. Still nothing. 

“Y/N, you asleep or something?” I said as I walked towards our bedroom. She wasn’t there. I furrowed my brows and wondered if maybe she went out with Toni or something. I pulled out my phone and called her. I heard her phone ring and followed it to the bathroom. I quickly hung up and walked over to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t running so she should have heard me. 

“Y/N? Baby? You in there?” I asked as I gently knocked. No answer. My heart started pounding faster and I quickly opened the door. I stopped in shock as I stared inside the bathroom. Y/N was lying on the floor, looking unnaturally skinny and there was vomit in the toilet. I quickly rushed over to her and checked her pulse. The small thump from her neck made me sigh in relief. I carefully pushed my hands under her and lifted her up. I gasped when I felt how light she was. How did I not notice how much weight she lost? How did I not notice how her bones were starting to be visible through her skin. I shuddered and felt tears pushing themselves to the surface. How the hell could I be such a shitty boyfriend and not realize the love of my life was putting herself in so much danger. I carefully made my way to our room and gently laid her down. I grabbed one of my shirts and carefully put it on her, she was drowning in it. I tucked her in so she wouldn’t get cold and checked that she was breathing again. I sighed and left to deal with the bathroom. Once I was done cleaning I grabbed her some water and placed it on the nightstand. I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. I stoked her hair and tried my hardest to think of what could have made her do this, or even when she started. I blamed myself for not seeing anything different. I believed every smile Y/N always put on. Every laugh she made. How the hell did I not see anything!? I tried to calm myself down, but I was so angry with myself. Maybe even a very small part of me was mad at her for not coming to me, but I pushed that away. I shouldn’t be mad at her, she needs me more than ever. I grabbed my phone and decided to call Toni and see if she knew anything about this. 

“Hey Fangs, what’s up?” She answered after the second ring. 

“Did you notice anything off about Y/N lately?” I asked, getting right to the point. 

“Uh, no? Why? What’s up?” She asked, worry clear in her voice. 

“I came home and she was passed out in the bathroom with vomit in the toilet. She’s really fucking skinny Toni…” I said, feeling a tear involuntarily fall down my cheek. 

“What? How skinny?” She asked. 

“Like I can see her ribs starting to poke out.” I answered and she gasped. 

“W-What? H-How?” She asked and I sighed. 

“I don’t know, T. I didn’t notice anything different…” I said quietly. 

“How? Have you guys not… ya know?” She asked and my eyes widened. 

“We’ve both been busy, but every time she’s just wanted to ya know, please me…” I said and felt my stomach turn slightly. She’s been hiding this for so long… 

“Shit Fangs, are you at the hospital? Want me and Pea to come by?” She asked and I shook my head. 

“I just have my bike and I-I don’t know what the hell they’ll do to her. I’m scared to take her there. What if they say she’s dying, or they lock her up, or I don’t know…” I sighed. 

“Fangs if she’s really bad you’ve gotta take her to the hospital, they’ll help her.” She said, gently. 

“Toni I can’t, what if she never forgives me for that? Clearly, she’s been hiding this for a while I don’t want her to hate me…” I said, fully crying by now. 

“Listen, Fangs, you wanna help her, right?” She asked with a sigh. 

“Yes…” I whispered. 

“Then you gotta take her. I’ll call Pea and we can use his truck, okay?” She asked and I shook my head again. 

“Can’t I just wait till she wakes up? They’re gonna keep her there for who knows how long.” I said and she sighed. 

“I don’t think you should wait. What if this isn’t the first time she’s passed out?” She asked and my eyes widened. I didn’t think about that. 

“J-Just let me wait till she wakes up first. Let me talk to her.” I begged and she sighed. 

“Fine, but you call me after, you got it?” She asked. 

“I promise.” I said and she sighed again. 

“I’m still calling Pea and letting him know what’s going on.” She said and I sighed. 

“Fine, just keep him from barging in, I don’t wanna scare her.” I said and she agreed. We said our goodbyes and hung up. 

I sat there in silence as I just stared at Y/N. I couldn’t stop thinking about how awful I am for not noticing anything. She hid it really well, which hurt. I had stopped crying but didn’t bother wiping my face. I just held her hand and stared at her. That’s when she started shifting. She slowly opened her Y/E/C and looked around for a moment before they landed on my dark brown ones. Neither of us moved or made a sound, just stared at the other. 

“I’m sorry…” She mumbled after a moment. She looked down and a tear rolled down her cheek. 

“Never. I mean never, do that again.” I choked out as my tears returned. Y/N looked up silently and reached up with her other hand to wipe away my tears. 

“You shouldn’t cry over me, I’m not worth it…” She whispered as she continued to caress my cheek. I felt the anger return and pulled back from her. 

“No Y/N! Don’t you ever think that! You’re more than worth it, you’re my perfect girl. I don’t understand why you even thought you needed to lose weight in the first place, but you’ve always been perfect! You’re beautiful, funny, caring, and amazing! I love you, I always have. I can’t stand seeing you do this to yourself when you don’t need to. I saw what was in the toilet, when was the last time you ate?” I asked and she had more tears falling down her gorgeous face. 

“I-I don’t know. Yesterday at lunch? I don’t know. I-I…” She started crying harder. I pulled her in for a gentle hug and stroked her hair. 

“How long have you been doing this babe?” I whispered. 

“A-A ye-year…” She answered between sobs. My heart broke and I sighed. I held her for a bit longer and gently pulled her back once she calmed down a bit. 

“Baby, you need to eat and actually keep it down. You need to get better, Y/N. Please.” I said and she shook her head. 

“I-I can’t! Looking at all those people that you talk to, they’re so much prettier than me! They’re skinnier, hotter, cooler, everything! Those people at school made me realize that I’m never going to be like them. I’m never going to be good enough for you…” She said, sobbing into her hands. My eyes widened as I stared at her. Who the fuck said that to her? She’s always been perfect, my everything… I gently pulled her hands away and tried to catch her eyes, but she avoided me. 

“Y/N, look at me, please?” I asked quietly. She looked up and she looked so broken. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you more than anything. I always have and I always will. No one in this damn world could ever compare to you, baby. You’ve always been my number one and I have never even thought of another person. Guy or girl. You don’t need to change yourself just because some jealous bitch said something to you. I will always love you no matter what.” I said and she sobbed. 

“Do you mean it?” She asked in a broken whisper. 

“Every word baby. I promise you that I love you with every piece of my heart. I just want you to get better right now. You passed out Y/N, do you know how scared I was?” I asked quietly. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” She cried and I pulled her into my chest. 

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You don’t have to be sorry okay? We’re gonna get you some help and get you better, okay?” I asked and she nodded. 

“Now, I gotta call Toni and tell her you woke up before she and Pea come breaking down the door.” I said and her eyes widened. 

“Y-You told Toni and Pea?” She asked with more tears falling. 

“I called to see if Toni noticed anything with you, I was so worried Y/N.” I said, caressing her cheek and wiping the tears. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. 

“Toni wanted me to take you to the hospital and I know I should have, but I just didn’t want to lose you.” I admitted and she looked up at me. 

“I’m so sorry, Fangs…” She said and I shook my head. 

“You don’t need to be sorry, baby.” I said and kissed her forehead. 

“Now let me call Toni and maybe I can convince her to not take you to the hospital, but you have to eat a bit of the Pop’s I brought home, deal?” I asked and she nodded while taking a shaky breath. 

“I’m not gonna make you eat all of it, but you need to eat at least a little okay? We’ll work on this slowly.” I said and she nodded. 

“O-Okay…” She whispered. I smiled and kissed her head once more before I went to get the food. When I walked back in she was fiddling with her hands. She looked up and I saw her sniff the air subtly. Her stomach growled and I smiled slightly. I walked over and placed the food on her lap, but left the milkshake in the other room. It would be way too heavy for her right now, even if she did love them. 

“I got your favorite, but I think we’re gonna skip the milkshake today and just stick with water, alright?” I asked and she nodded. Her shaky hands took out the burger and fries and gently laid them on the blanket. 

“Alright, I’m gonna sit right here and call Toni and you’re gonna start eating, okay?” I asked and she nodded. I pulled out my phone and called Toni as I watched Y/N slowly start to eat the cold fries. I watched as she put the first one in her mouth and she moaned slightly. I smiled as she continued eating them. 

“Fangs! Is she awake?” Toni answered. 

“Yeah, she’s awake.” I answered and I heard her sigh. 

“Perfect, I’m with Pea and Juggie right now and we have the truck so we’ll be over in a few and we can take her to the hospital.” She said as I heard movement from her side. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna need to take her to the hospital.” I said as I watched her pick up the burger. She took a bite and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. I chuckled and smiled at her. 

“Fangs she passed out, she needs to go to the fucking hospital.” Toni said, slightly annoyed. 

“I think we can deal with this ourselves, T.” I said and she groaned. 

“Seriously? You agreed to take her to the hospital when she woke up.” She said and I sighed. 

“Just come over and see, I promise we got this.” I said and she sighed. 

“Fine, we’re already on our way.” She said and hung up. I hung up and saw Y/N was halfway done with the burger. 

“Slow down babe.” I said with a small chuckle. She blushed and looked over at me. 

“Sorry…” She mumbled and I smiled at her. 

“Don’t be, I know you’re hungry, but like I said we gotta take it slow.” I said and she nodded. 

A few minutes later, our front door was opening. We heard three sets of footsteps coming towards us and Y/N looked scared. I grabbed her hand and gently gave her a reassuring squeeze. The door opened and in walked Toni, Pea, and Jughead. They all looked at Y/N with wide eyes and Toni rushed over to her other side. She pulled her in for a hug, which Y/N returned. 

“Are you crazy? Starving yourself or throwing shit up, whichever. How long has this been going on, huh?” Toni asked and Y/N looked down in shame. 

“Toni, relax. We already talked about it and look she’s already eating.” I said and grabbed Y/N’s hand again. 

“I’m sorry…” Y/N said quietly again. 

“Babe I already told you, you don’t need to be sorry.” I said. 

“No Fangs is right, sorry Y/N/N, I’m just worried.” Toni said, taking a seat on the bed next to her. 

“We all are.” Jones said. She looked up at Pea and Jughead and they each smiled at her. 

“Yeah, so who ass do I need to beat for starting this shit?” Pea asked and Toni rolled her eyes. Y/N laughed and I smiled at her. 

“If I’m honest I don’t even remember who said something…” She said and blushed slightly. 

“I just know it was about a year ago and that’s when I started looking at myself differently. I just hate how I look and constantly compare myself to everyone else and…” She trailed off. 

“Wait, that’s when you started cutting, were you doing this too?” Toni asked and Y/N shook her head. 

“No, I started after you guys helped with that…” She said with a guilty tone. 

“Oh Y/N…” Toni said and pulled her in for another hug. 

“I’m so-” 

“Nope, don’t you dare apologize.” Toni said, cutting her off. 

“Yeah, we’re sorry for not noticing anything.” Jones said and Y/N shook her head. 

“I hid it, there was no way you guys could have known. I mean I was wearing clothes that were a bit too big for me so you guys wouldn’t see my weight change.” She said and we all looked at each other. That explains a bit. 

“We’ll that’s fucking over, let’s go get you some more food.” Pea said and she shook her head. 

“I’m kind of full.” She said and I placed the rest of the food on the nightstand. 

“That’s okay, like I said, slow.” I said and she nodded with a small smile. 

“Fangs is right, we gotta take this slow, but we’re all here for you and we’re gonna help every step of the way.” Toni said with a smile. Pea and Jones also nodded and Y/N teared up. 

“You guys are the best and I’m really so-” 

“Stop apologizing Y/N/N, or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Pea said and she laughed a real genuine happy laugh. We all smiled at her and I gently squeezed her hand. This might be a hard and long road ahead, but we would all support her every step. I think she finally realized that she’s amazing and if not we would all be here to remind her.

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[lailoken]

I really hate doing this, but earlier today, my puppy Rowland was running outside with his brother when he took a tumble and ended up running straight into an old metal tool of my father-in-law's. The metal caught the flesh on his side in three spots and tore some large and deep gashes in his hide and underlying muscle. Initially, between the blood and the way he was crying and limping, I really thought he had managed to stab himself in the gut, which was a particularly horrifying thought since I was alone in the countryside with no way to get him quick medical help at the time.

After soothing him enough to get a better look at his wounds, I was deeply relieved to see no signs of abdominal perforation, but I was still taken aback by how bad his injuries were and how much he was bleeding. While I waited desperately for my father-in-law to get home and lend me his truck, I gently cleaned Rowland's wounds, and I thank all the gods that I was able to work a successful Blood Stanching charm on him despite the severity of the bleeding. He was already beginning to shiver and drool with nausea, making me think he was starting to go into shock, so I'm not sure how much worse it might have gotten if I hadn't stemmed the flow of bood.

I managed to get him to the vet, where he had to stay for the day being cleaned, treated, and given 15 stitches. He is clearly in a lot of pain and fear, but he should recover fine, which I am beyond grateful for. That being said, though, the veterinary bill was $864 (everything on the itemized invoice below plus an additional $17 for anti-nausea meds that prevent him from throwing up after anesthesia, which could tear his sitches) and while we were able to pull from our savings to pay for this, it's still a rather disheartening financial turn of events. Especially since I've been mostly working free cases the past few weeks, meaning that I've taken in very little money recently. While I trust my spirits to keep our needs met so long as I honor my vows, it would still be nice not to be forced into depleting our life savings.

I held a raffle once to help fundraise for my older dogs who had started a regimen of expensive pain medications at the time, and I am now considering doing this again. Specifically, I am considering raffling off a handmade wooden stave that I'm currently selling for $200. I was thinking that, since this piece is highly unique and fairly expensive, people might want to enter the raffle for $5 a person (using the link I end up providing) and then the winner would be chosen by a random number generator. Whoever won would end up with a $200 Stave of braided thorny Crabapple wood that was harvested from a 120+ year old tree and sealed with a traditional black Hearth Soot stain, for only $5.

Of course, a raffle like this would only be of use if enough people think they would actually consider entering the raffle. After all, if only 20 people entered, I would be selling this $200 piece for $100, which wouldn't help me fund this medical care and would actually lose me money overall. As such, I figured I would make poll to help me gauge the viability of this idea, like I did the last time.

Sorry again to be doing this. I hope you can understand. ♡

[samcscreams]

There goes her record.

Sometimes violence is necessary. Sometimes it's hard to understand that. Sometimes you don't have a choice. Sam wishes she could always have a choice.

Got this idea and ran with it. Short one today. Hope you enjoy:)

__________________________________________________

“Sam, wait up!” 

“What do you want Shelby?” Sam turned to face the intoxicated girl running up to her. 

“Mmm Paul said you have smokes,” Shelby said, holding out her hand and trying her best at puppy dog eyes. 

Sam just scoffed and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and placed one in Shelby’s hand. Normally Sam would refuse, but staying on Shelby’s nice side meant free shit at parties. So if parting with a few cigs gets her a beer or more she’d do it every time. 

“That’s my good girl,” Shebly drunkenly said as she patted the side of Sam’s face. 

Sam hated when she did that. Now, Shelby wasn't necessarily Sam’s type, in fact she was still trying to figure that part of herself out, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth at those words. Yet it was always followed by self loathing afterwards. How pathetic of her to crumble at such easy words. She doesn't know Sam. Nobody really knows her. Hopefully nobody ever will. 

“Green bag in the kitchen,” Shelby yelled as she walked off into the crowded room. Sam threw a thumbs up as she took the last gulp of her drink and stumbled forward to find another. 

Once making it into the kitchen, she scanned around for the lovely green bag. She pushed through a handful of people until she found it hiding in the corner. She pulled it closer and opened it up to find a decently expensive bottle of vodka. Sam grabbed a classy red solo cup and popped the cap. Before she could even get a shot’s worth in her cup, an icy cold hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Capenter?” an even colder voice yelled. 

The sudden movement had spilled the drink onto Sam’s shirt. Unfortunately her drunken state made it hard to recover, but once she regained her balance, she looked up to find her assailant. 

Great. Jordan fucking Waters.

He's been a pain in Sam’s side since she rejected him sophomore year by kicking him in the balls.  

“You think you can just take my shit?” He barked as he aggressively grabbed the bottle.

“Who the fuck said this was your shit?” Sam snapped, snatching the bottle back. Jordan lunged for it again, causing Sam to stumble and let go. She tried to catch it but her reflexes were far too slow to do any good. 

They both stared as the bottle shattered on the ground. Sam turned to walk away but Jorden grabbed her by the arm and held her in place. 

“ You own me 120,” he demanded.

Sam snapped her attention up from the bottle, not realizing it was still her main focus. “I don't owe you shit,” she growled and pulled out of his grip. 

“It was in my fucking bag. Or you too fucked up to read? You own me 120 bitch!” He said, grabbing the green bag and pointing to the ‘J. Waters’ written on the inside of the lid. 

“No, Shelby said-” Sam started, but then eyed another green bag on the floor.

“Shit.” Sam didnt have enough to pay Shelby for a couple beers, let alone giving this fuck wad 120 for somthing he broke. 

“Listen, I don’t have that.” Sam could feel her chest tighten at the look Jordan gave her. Like his mind landed on a solution that would end up being much worse than just finding the 120. 

He staggered over to her, his face morphing into a wicked grin. Once he was close enough Sam could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was probably more fucked up than she was. He grabbed her tight by the waist and turned into her ear. 

“Either you pay me the 120 or you show me a night worth the same.” As he finished his offer he grabbed her ass causing Sam to shove him to the ground. 

“You fucking bitch!” Jordan shouted as he scrambled to his feet. Sam watched as the boy’s face turned bright red, with anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that the pit in her stomach was pulling at her and her hands were starting to itch. This wasn't going to end well. 

“And here I was being generous,” Jordan spewed like venom to the crowd that was forming in the kitchen. Sam shoved her hands in her pocket as a million eyes fell on her. She turned to walk away as she couldn't afford another public display of violence on her record, but Jordan’s two dumb ass best friends were all of a sudden right behind her. 

“Let's take this outside.” And with that, Sam was being lifted into the air and taken out back. 

Once in the back yard the two boys threw Sam to the ground. Jordan crouched down and grabbed her by the chin. Time seemed to slow down as Sam watched the party goers flood out around them. 

“Someone’s gotta teach you a lesson,” Jordan said as he patted the side of her face and stood back up. Sam took the opportunity to quickly get to her feet as well. 

Jordan didn’t like being told no. Through his whole life Sam was the only one to turn him down. Boy’s like that never forget.

“See, you like to walk around like you’re too cool for the rest of us. Like you aren’t some townie trash like the rest of us.” 

Sam scanned the area to try and come up with the fastest escape route but she was surrounded. It was hard to hear what Jordan was saying over the blood rushing in her ears. 

“You just take shit without asking. All you do is take. Maybe it’s time to give–”

“I’d never give you shit,” Sam spit out

Jordan stopped in his tracks and marched over to Sam.

“And here I thought Carpenter’s were easy.” Jordan paused to savor the hurt expression spreading across Sam’s face. 

“At least that's what my mom says. Such a scandal to get knocked up in highschool huh?” 

Sam’s skin felt like it was on fire. Her hands bawling to tight fights inside her jacket as she repeated over and over in her mind: “He doesn't know. Nobody knows. He can't know.” 

“Well I guess if you dont take after your mom, maybe that sister of yours does.” 

There goes her record. 

By the time Sam came to, she was on top of Jordan, his face beaten and bloodied. Her hands still wrapped around his neck as the metallic smell filled her nose. ‘I can’t kill him,’ she thought to herself. As she went to let go, a voice clear as day spoke over her shoulder. 

But you could.

Sam’s blood ran cold as she hesitated for one single moment, only snapping out of it a second later and scrambling to get off of him. 

A small crowd rushed to Jordan’s side as Sam stared in shock. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her bloodied hands, causing her to aggressively wipe them in the grass. 

“He’s not breathing!” A girl cried out. 

The rest of the party goers just stared at Sam as if she was a wild animal. As if she just told them all the truth. 

“No. No this. This isn't right. I didn't. I.. I..” Sam felt the panic explode inside of her. The world around her was closing in. 

“You fucking killed him!” another kid yelled out. 

“I.. I..” Sam couldn’t get any words out. Here it was, the moment she’d been pushing away since the age of 13. How stupid she was to think she could have outrunit. It’s in her blood. It’s who she is. 

“Sam.” A voice broke through the crowd. It was soft and warm. 

“Sam, it's okay. Sam!” She looked frantically all around to find the voice. The voice that keeps her grounded, the voice that will drown out all the others. 

“Sammy. Please.” 

Sam opened her eyes and pushed herself away from her baby sister. 

Tara sat on the edge of Sam's bed holding a glass of water. 

“You were thrashing pretty bad. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“Just a nightmare. Go back to bed,” Sam said shortly. She was still trying to get a grip on reality. 

Tara hesitated but got up from the bed and placed the glass of water on Sam’s side table. She turned back towards her big sister to say one last thing. 

“He deserved it ya know.” 

“What?” Sam said as her anxiety shot up. 

“Jordan. I heard you say his name in your sleep. Two black eyes and a busted lip was enough to straighten him out.”

“I'm lucky he didn't press charges.” Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Should have been worse with all the accusations coming out now. Probably why he won't, considering most of them are from my grade.” Tara’s words made Sam’s chest burn. Knowing that creep was walking around made her blood boil. Yet Sam hated when her blood boiled.

“Violence should never be the answer, Tara. I shouldn't have done that.” 

“Ya but sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s necessary. Besides I know you'd never hurt me.” 

Before Sam could even process her baby sister's words the voice broke through, icy and cold. 

But you could.

“Get out of my room!” Sam demanded. Her eyes darting down to her hands as if watching them would keep them in check. 

“What?” Tara shifted her body weight at the sting of rejection settling in her stomach. 

“Tara, get out!” Sam raised her voice, still refusing to look anywhere but her hands. 

“Why?”

“Just get the fuck out, okay.” 

“Jesus, fine, goodnight.” Tara turned and went out the door, slightly slamming it as she left. 

Sam turned over onto her side and gripped her pillow. Tears stung her eyes and stained her face. All she could hear repeating over and over: “You could, You could, You could.” She wanted to scream, but that would only bring back wanted unwanted attention. It wasn't safe. That itch in her hands, that burn in her chest. God, she would do anything to take it away. 

Anything.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #202

I took a morning walk with J. And I streamed a lot of Dead Cells today.

This time, I finally managed to gather and use all of the Moonflower Keys. In order to gather those, you have to find all three of the Gardener's Keys in The Promenade of the Condemned. Then you have to find where the Moonflower Keys are hidden in the next three stages, and unlock the passages to them with a Gardener's Key. These exist in places called The Ramparts, The Graveyard, and The Forgotten Sepulcher. Normally, you can't get to The Graveyard from The Ramparts, but you can if you have three Boss Cells active.

But for this run, I started with a stack of 120 curses. That's because I keep breaking down pay doors. There are two 50-curse pay doors, and up to two 10-curse pay doors in the Prisoners' Quarters. If you have a curse, then if you get hit even once, you'll die instantly, until you defeat the same number of zombies as your curse stack. So I had to defeat 120 zombies without making any mistakes on a rather challenging level of difficulty. I'm not really sure how I pulled it off, but I managed.

I imagine you'd probably be really good at this game. Maybe someday if I get impossibly lucky, I'll get to see you play a game sometime. Or maybe you'll sit with me and make silly commentary as I play. That might be nice.

In the end, I got defeated by The Hand of the King. I've only fought him a handful of times, and his movements are still somewhat strange to me. So I practiced against him for a little while in the Training Room. Maybe I'll do a little better next time.

Br visited unexpectedly today while I was streaming, and that was lovely. And then there was the gathering of polyamorous people happening in that one place, and my friend H asked me if I was going. I wasn't expecting to go, because I thought Br was going to stick around the house a little longer, but as it turns out, she had to go run some errands and then go home. So Br dropped me off at the gathering.

I like being there with all of the non-standard folk; I feel a little bit less alone. But I don't know how to mingle very well. My main topics of discussion usually relate to human psychology and the mechanics of trauma, the state of the world at large and why it is the way it is, and other such very deep topics of discussion that most people in my world seem rather uncomfortable with for reasons I don't fully understand; how do we fix solvable problems if we refuse to talk about them?

I could talk about my other interests, like my wire trees and my art and acapellas, but I find then that people either get bored or weirded out very quickly, or otherwise become intimidated by me and by what I can do, or else think I'm trying to be a showoff, or worse - call me "talented" or "impressive" - so outside of this space or at home, I try not to talk about myself much unless prompted.

I could try to talk about their interests, but I've had experiences in which my asking has caused the other person to feel vulnerable and defensive, and the result is them angrily telling me to mind my own damn business. You wouldn't believe how many people get angry in response to, "what do you like to do for fun?" or else reply with a sarcastic, "wouldn't you like to know?"

I could talk about you, but most people in my world don't know who you are. And of the ones who do, most of them think very… unkind and murdery things in your general direction. I wonder if the irony in that is lost on them…

I could talk about the weather, but that seems so superficial, and if I'm not careful, I'll end up talking about how the weather is changing because our climate is changing, and nobody wants to think about that. And I don't know anything about sports or reality TV or celebrities. Maybe if I was more normal I'd know about those things.

But I'm really not especially interested in the personal life of whatever celebrity is trending. I'm not especially interested in keeping abreast of whatever's trending at any given moment, just in general. I wanna talk about the universe and the meaning of life and how you felt in response to creating your latest work of art, and… I guess most folks just think that stuff is weird and gross and cringe or however else "vulnerable" gets euphemized nowadays. I know I'm not entitled to emotional vulnerability from anyone - I know that. But I don't know how to get to know people if all personal questions like, "what do you like" and, "what do you do" can be misconstrued as rude in one way or another.

So for the most part, at a social gathering, I tend to keep to myself and let people talk to me at their leisure if they want to. Naturally, I do want to talk to other people about anything and everything, but when I initiate, usually bad things happen and the other person feels very uncomfortable and I never quite understand why because no one ever tells me or gives me a chance to improve; usually once you fuck up, you're done and that's it. I'm not "socially appropriate". And as an autistic person, I likely never will be. It occurs to me how much being autistic is like going through socializing with an infinite stack of curses, just like in Dead Cells; once you fuck up, you're done. So it's usually better to keep my mouth shut as often as possible when I'm not at home. When I open up in other places, usually whatever welcome I thought I had wears out quickly.

I guess that's one of the reasons I write to you. This silly little existence of mine is oppressively lonely sometimes, outside of the walls of my house. The odds of you ever seeing these are vanishingly small, and so, the odds of you telling me what a weird and useless waste of space I am are also vanishingly small. And even if these do, by some miracle, ever reach you, I can't imagine you'd ever want to write back to me. And I guess there is some small comfort in that. I guess I really don't want to receive a letter from you telling me how weird and gross and inappropriate you think I am; if I ever did receive anything from you, I can't imagine it'd be anything other than something like that.

I guess in short, I don't mingle because I'm still scared of being on the receiving end of others' disgust and contempt. If I had a nickel for every time some person described me as "passionate" when it was really code for "weirdly obsessed", or described me as "marches to the beat of her own drum" when it's really code for, "I'm going to do whatever it takes to avoid this person", or described me as "unconventional" when they really mean "insane"… I'd have a lot of nickels.

And maybe they're right; who knows? But nonetheless, I'm a person that others can come to with anything and everything, whether I've known them for years, or whether we met today. I am a person who folks can tell their deepest, darkest secrets to, knowing that I will not judge them, and knowing that I will keep those secrets safe. And indeed, there are a number of folks who trust me in this way. But it's not really my place to have that reciprocated to me, I think. And it's probably better if I can just be strong for everyone else, in any case. I can handle it.

When people talk to me first instead of me trying to initiate, then I am better able to gauge where they're at and respond accordingly. They can set the pace of the conversation. They can decide when to end it and when to continue at their leisure. They can decide the topic. If I try any of these things, usually I fuck it up, because I am myself, and myself is always either too much or not enough, except for in a few very preciously rare cases. I don't want to hurt anyone by accident, so I find that the best thing to do is usually stay quiet and listen, and offer very brief tidbits about me only when specifically asked.

So mostly I just sat and wove a wire tree. A person named Gw sat next to me and seemed to enjoy sharing the space with me and that was nice. Here's how far along I got today:

...Peridot and cherry quartz on white wire. Hopefully it'll look nice when it's done...

Oh. I got a couple other pictures for you. I found another feather on the trails today as J and I walked on them:

...And the moon looked really cool today, so I snagged a picture:

...It's not the best picture because it's just a cellphone camera and I had to zoom all the way in. But still. Still...

Well. I guess I'll end today's letter here. I don't really have anything profound to say. But I do hope the joy in the simple things I write about reaches you.

I love you. Please stay safe out there. I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[elmothedictator]

Jaune (Mobius 1, F-22), roasts SU-57, piloted by Cardin

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): What the hell is that on my radar? Is that? Oh it’s an SU-57. I mistaken you for being a bomber since you’re goddamn huge for a stealth bomber!

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57): Fuck you too

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): You really think you can hide from radar, flying around in that city block of an aircraft?

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57): I warn you Arc, i can shoot you down faster than you shooting me down!

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): You really want to know what’s the 57 in the SU-57 means? It’s the area code given to it because it’s a fucking giant! You’re so goddamn big you make my F-22 looks like a Honda Civic next to a Ford F-250 on a lift kit.

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57): That’s it (Fires R-73) FOX 2!

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): *Evaded the missile* Oh it’s a 5th gen Fighter like in the Tom Juice Movie (Y’all know which one lol)? Wow, it’s really cool like that matter when an AIM-120 is rapidly approaching your exact position. *Evades another missile* Pull that one dumbass maneuver from the maneuver, you may dodge one missile with that, but you can’t dodge this 20mm going straight into your cockpit. *Evades another missile*

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57): Stay still goddammit! *Fires another missile*

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): *Evades the missile once more* Tell your airbase to stop sending more SU-57 to my position. Oh wait, there are 47 of you in the world, and they can’t risk sending more SU-57 because you’re so goddamn expensive (Fucking F-22 is $200 mil while SU-57 is only $35 mil, but the F-22 has 187 units, in real life. But this is ace combat sooo…. There are more F-22 and SU-57 than the real life), meaning you’re all alone, no allies, no friends and most of all, no bitches *Vine Thud*. It took you 10 years to get you from the first flight in 1994 to be in the Erusean Air Force in 2004.

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57): Hah i’m right behind him, switching to guns! *Fires the gun but all of the bullets missed* Fuck!

Mobius 1 Jaune (F-22): *Cobra maneuvered behind Cardin* The Raptor did it in 8 years and its introduction is back in 20th Century (Ace Combat lore stated this). You’re already outdated and should move on *AIM-9X Search tone sound* with your pathetic life. *AIM-9X Lock On sound* The only way for you to be a truly stealth fighter, is to not exist at all. Go back to your hangar and stay on the ground. *Fires the AIM-9X* so that way i can’t see you, and you can do what you built for, not being seen. *Splash one bandit!)

Albireo 1 Cardin (SU-57), currently on an ejection seat: I’ll get my revenge one day, asshole!

[fireandiceland]

Okay, I don't give a shit, you can pick and choose, you can make these like two sentences long, but you wanted prompts? here are prompts, bitch (affectionately) SuFin - 30 RusAme - 10 Red Velvet Pancakes (or wtf ever their shipname is) - 18 MintChoc - 35 AusHun - 19 GerIta - 42 TurGre - 33 Dennor - 22 SicIre - 40 Gabio - 45 Francetto - 38 And this is a real shot in the dark but ... Railey - 46

Alright challenge accepted, I tend to go overboard with shit tall time so I'll try to do 3 sentences for each, max. 5 if it's completely impossible otherwise. Get ready for some smooches and prepare for me to probably completely butcher your OC ships 😘

edit after I was finished: sorry this took a little longer but I really wanted to try all of them and had so much fun with these!! thank you bea, love you 💖

Sufin - Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

""'s too hot," Sweden panted when Finland oh so graciously pulled away from a kiss that was merely a brush of lips to let him breath. Moving off his lap was out of question though, even if it was getting close to 120°C in the sauna. Judging from the sticky feeling of sweat and humidity they might as well start melting into one soon, Sweden thought. "It's cosy," Finland stated and pressed his lips to Sweden's once more.

Rusame - A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

America took another hasty look at his watch while shoving documents, pens, and candy bar wrappers from his desk right into his briefcase, then patted down all his pockets while scanning the room quickly. "Fuck!" he exclaimed when he turned around to find Russia standing right behind, but what he held in his hand put the signature smile back on America's face - his phone! "Thanks, dude!" He took device and pulled Russia into a quick kiss and was softly reciprocated. "See ya tomorrow!" It was only minutes after, when America was on his way and Russia back at his desk, that they realised that this hadn't been their usual goodbye.

RVP - Teasing kisses where one person blows air into the other’s mouth and runs away.

James yelped when Matthew suddenly threw his arms around him, catching him mid-race to the other end of the part where they had decided to hang out for their definitely-not-a-date and taking the last that was left of his breath away with a kiss. The sun was still high, causing Matthew's golden hair and bright eyes to sparkle. James pecked his lips again, lingering a little longer for this one. "Oh? I thought this wasn't a date," Matthew teased but leaned in closer again. "It isn't," James stated, but was about to meet him halfway for the first kiss that would count - if not for Matthew to blow at his lips and run off again. James smiled to himself, seems like he lost the race but was about to win something else.

MintChoc - An awkward kiss given after a first date.

'Is this the moment where I should kiss him?' Allen thought to himself, well aware of the uncomfortable, nightly silence surrounding him and Arthur and the park bench the have settled down on as their very first real date came to an end. 'I'll kiss him' he decided and scooted a closer, leaned in a little and- 'Oh heavens, he's going to kiss me!' Arthur's mind screamed as his heartbeat quickened with every millimitre that Allen's lips came closer to his. He let his eyes fall closed, decided to meet him halfway and- "Ouch!" they both exclaimed at the same time when their foreheads collided in a painful hit, followed by laughter and their real first kiss.

AusHun - One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

It had started as a simple squeezing of their hands, fingers playing with eachother, a futive kiss on Austria's cheek, a hand reluctantly wandering to rest on Hungary's thigh. By now it was slow kisses exchanged in the dim back of their private loge during the new year's concert, the upper buttons of Austria's dress shirt undone and Hungary's skirt slipped upwards further enough to reveal her underwear. She was working on the next button in row on Austria's shirt while never letting his lips go farther from hers to do more than take a breath. Only when his chest was bare she pulled away far enough to speak. "Do you want to do this?," she asked, one hand running up the inside of his thigh. The answer came in form of Austria cradling her cheeks, immediately pulling her into a kiss that caused her to make a noise she hoped the other guests wouldn't hear.

GerIta - Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

"Ger - ma - nyyyy..." Italy whined, Germany's name interrupted by kisses being pressed to his jaw, his cheek, then the thip os his nose. With a heavy sigh he put the cap back on his pen to prevent it from drying out like his motivation and put it aside together with his last bit of self-discipline. "Ja ja, schon gut.." He pushed himself in the desk chair away to get up, but Italy was sitting in his lap immediately, peppering his face in kisses. "Finally! You really - work - too much - Ger - ma - ny!" Maybe Italy was right. A break suddenly didn't sound so bad.

TurGre - An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Sadik pushed Herakles against the wall, rage had tinted his cheeks red and he yelled once again "Why?!" before staring at the ground while trying to get back his breath and composure. Then he looked up at Herakles and their eyes met - and suddenly their lips too. Herakles couldn't do anything, but let it happen. It didn't feel bad, no, it was fine, good even, only it had happened at the time he had expected it the least.

Dennor - A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

Denmark couldn't believe his luck when Norway kissed him again and again and again until all the knew was the others lips and hands on him. What were the odds of getting up in the middle of the night to find his insomniac boyfriend in the kitchen as the 2am snack he craved? He sure wasn't doing to do the math now. Or later. Instead he pushed Norway against the table to sit him down there. Standing in front of him and being trapped by Norway's legs around his it would be so easy for Denmark to just pull up his shirt and- "Really? In front of my cereal? Again?" Denmark broke the kiss just in time to see Iceland stomp off while covering his eyes.

SicIre - A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

"Harry!" Michele protested weakly when his boyfriend suddenly cupped his face, and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn't that he minded being kissed, by god he didn't, but it was a surprising move considering they were in the car waiting for the light to go green. Harry didn't care for the car honking behind them. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to take Michele's breath away with a fierce kiss. Maybe it was his beautifully relaxed expression while driving, maybe it was the orange reflection of the sunset sparkling in his eyes, maybe it was the warmth that radiated from his mere presence at any given moment - whatever it was, it was more important to Harry than the impatient honking.

Gabio - Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.

"Ou-!" "Shhh!" Gabriella was quick to steal the sound of discomfort from Fabio's lips while he rubbed his thigh where the edge of the desk had just been rammed into it. They both knew it would be more than awful for their bosses to find out about their relationship like this - catching them tripping over and bumping into the antique Italian furniture in Gabriella's office. Fabio sighed softly, the pain of the sharp edge already forgotten at the sweet distraction that Gabriella's kisses offered him. Getting caught by either of their bosses was a risk he was willing to take if this was the reward.

Francetto - Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss.

Franceso smiled softly, genuinely, at how a sleeping Dolcetto's chest rose and sunk, over and over with every breath. It had been an insanely long week that had finally come to an end. Even if things hadn't went as planned, at least they had this moment - well, Francesco had it. He descended slowly as to not wake Dolcetto from his well deserved slumber and whispered the three words that were still easier to say when there was no chance for a snarky reply - "I love you" - before leaning in further to plant a feather-light kiss on Dolcetto's lips.

Railey - A lingering kiss before a long trip apart.

Tahir wasn't sure how he got in this position, but by god he wasn't going to complain about being held close by Robert while holding onto him as well, their hands on each other's shoulders, each other's necks. The taste of a recently smoked cigarette still clung to Robert's lips and for once Tahir drank it up because it was him. Their lips barely moved. No teeth, no tongue dared to disturb the closeness as if any movement at all would make this moment pass. Something neither of them wanted, considering they will be parted for weeks once it ends.

[nyotasaimiri]

Arc Two 120

Morning came to Nyota slow and quiet, which surprised her after how much effort yesterday had taken. After a lifetime under Miniknog rule, she was by no means surprised at how hard it was to choose words with such care. But it did surprise her how easily she could recover now. It wasn’t a matter of being used to using caution, she realized, as she got up and washed the sleep off her face. She would have woken up gently for most of her life if all it took was being used to that. But the answer still eluded her as she finished working a comb through her mane, so she set it aside for now. It would come to her later.

“Ya get beat half to heck and back again, and ya still get up earlier’n the rest of us?” Lumen asked, voice hollow and echoing in something like a Novakid yawn as he caught up with her in the kitchen.

“I took a few days to sleep in,” Nyota said mildly. The sugar was still in the right place, which meant Namina had been busy last night.

Lumen made a funny whirring sound and swiped the egg out of her hand. “Sure ya did. An hour ain’t sleepin’ in enough, ma’am. Now sit, I’ll treat today.”

Nyota gave him a curious look and took up another egg. “You can help, but I won’t ask you to cook. We will be feeding quite a few people today.”

He neatly cracked the egg one-handed, which was admittedly impressive, given that she’d never seen him make anything but mixed drinks before. “Ya still oughta sit. You’re favorin’ that leg again.”

Nyota hissed a short curse as she realized he was right, and another as her half-conscious attempt to shift her weight to hide it sent a shock of pain up through her hip. Through sheer force of will, she managed to not to crack the countertop with an involuntary grip, but it was a near thing.

Lumen hissed softly, sympathetically. “Worse than I thought, huh? Hold still a tick, ma’am.” He slid a stool over to her and helped her sit down. “Easy does it, there ya go.”

“It’s from using it so much yesterday,” Nyota said with a sigh. Her face was a little tight from pain, but she made her voice relax again with long practice. “I nearly forgot. This happens sometimes if I go too long without walking, then try too much at once. Don’t worry about it. I can work it through. It is temporary.”

Lumen shook his head and knelt down to lay his hands on either side of her knee. The warmth smoothed away the remaining needles of pain, leaving just the dull ache behind as Nyota sighed in surprised relief. Lumen looked up at her, glowing a little brighter. “Still don’t like to see ya in pain, ma’am. But I know better’n to stop ya from cookin’. Talk me through this. Bet we can still make breakfast if ya stay put in yer cozy seat.”

Nyota learned very quickly, as she talked Lumen through cooking, that he was not used to cooking for organic people. Or very good at it, either, despite his trick with the egg before. But there was love in what he did, and he followed her directions close. By the time a sleepy Arjun shuffled in, on the hunt for caffeine, they had three batches of muffins steaming on the counter, and Lumen was pulling a fourth out of the oven.  

“Finally got her to sit back a bit?” Arjun asked with a raspy chuckle, swirling coffee in the pot to gauge how full it was before he poured some into his mug.

“Much as she lets me,” Lumen replied before Nyota could think up a remark that would defend her honor. “And I didn’t burn down the kitchen.”

“Only because she’s minding you,” Arjun said, pointing his mug at Lumen. “Sonny’s told me stories.”

“What sort of stories?” Nyota took a sip of her own coffee to hide her smile as Lumen made a sound like a deflating accordion.

“The fun sort.” Arjun took a long drink, letting the steam fog up his reading glasses. “Made it strong today, huh? My Nana’d say this would put hair on your chest. So. We got a plan?”

Nyota lowered her mug to watch him, thoughtful. “I doubt Lumen will let me do much. Why do you ask?”

The old man smirked at her. “You only brew coffee this strong for three reasons. Tormenting me, stripping paint, or to get your mind sharp. And there’s easier ways to torment me than wasting good bean. You got a plot cooking.”

“Perhaps I do.” Nyota sloshed the dregs around the bottom of her mug, thinking. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, brewing it strong, but… Arjun was likely onto something. “I know I need to rest a while more. But… we should still work out our next move.”

“After breakfast,” Lumen said firmly. At least he didn’t shut it down. “If we go anywhere, ya gotta tell the whole crew.”

“I will. Well, let’s test these muffins, shall we? The smell might lure them down.”

[peacehopeandrats]

Number 9

Damn. It went over 500, but only by 120 or so and I wanted a decent ending. Here you go.

The Tent of Infinite Adventure had torn the Golds apart. One minute they were walking together through a thick wood and in the next, Belle found herself suddenly alone. It wasn't as if her husband and son had teleported away, either. The trees had simply... swallowed them up, blending with each other to create walls between them. Now, as she struggled to come to grips with what she was experiencing, the trunks and branches were changing again.

Yellow light from the sun was pouring through the dancing leaves, which turned the beams more to a hue that imitated their own. These green fingers clawed their way toward her, then pulled away, making the very air around her seem to ripple like water.

"Belle?" Rumple's panic echoed around her as clearly as if he were standing by her side.

"Papa?" Gideon's voice followed. "Where are you?"

"We're all still here," Belle answered both. "I think it doesn't want us to see each other."

"I bet we found another puzzle!" Her son's voice bounded through the air with excitement.

Rumple huffed. "Well, if it is one I can't see what type it might be."

"Should we keep walking or stand still and study our surroundings?" Belle froze in place even as she made the suggestion, trying to take in what she could.

"I'm in someone's laundry room," Gideon chortled. "Or caught up in their lines and lines of drying clothes. All I can see is hanging fabric as big as picnic blankets, in all kinds of patterns."

"We might have something then," Rumple added. "Because I'm in what appears to be a thread shop. All I can see are drawers and drawers of thread, each with a different thickness and texture."

Belle took in her own location. She truly did feel as if she were walking beneath the sea. "I don't know what that will do for us," she sighed. "The tent left me under water. There is sand and the air moves around like water would. I think there is seaweed in the distance, but that's all. Everything else is just... water."

"What if you go to the seaweed?"

Following her son's suggestion, she moved closer, surprising herself at how easily she could move in the supposedly liquid environment. It took what felt like ages to get there, but once she arrived, she could just make out the hint of something in and around the plants and collected rocks. Creeping closer, she soon became overwhelmed by the power of what she saw.

Colors bounced around in her head. They mixed and threaded themselves together. Even colors that had no business being together. They were all one, yet distinctly separate at the same time. How was she going to explain this to the others?

"It reminds me of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea," she murmured as she stumbled backward, shaking her head to clear it.

From the distance, her son laughed. "Which part?"

"The part where it describes what it looked like when they went walking on the ocean floor," she called back.

"Oh, wow!" Belle could practically hear her son drooling over the environment she had been gifted.

"What if this is a task of patterns?" Rumple pondered the question as he spoke it, his voice filled with curiosity in a way that said he was inspecting the threads before him with greater care. "I might have to gather, weave, or spin the colors in Gideon's picnic blankets and your ocean view."

Belle heard a thump, then heard Gideon moan. "This is going to take forever." She could imagine him crumpled on the floor, staring at the offending cloth in defeat.

"Don't give up," she insisted. "We'll figure it out together."

[theothersarshi]

Someone showed me a Google Translation of a joke just now. Here, let me translate it from Romanian back into English for you! Complete with me attempting to reproduce the nonsense.

An elderly citizen chased his new convertible Corvette out of the dealership. Starting down the road, he lowered it to 80 mph, enjoying the wind blowing through the little graying hair he had left. Amazing, he thought while flying on the I-94, pressing the pedal even more. Looking at himself in the rearview mirror, he saw a state policeman behind him, lights blinking and the siren being a sound. He went down to 100 mph, then to 110, then 120. Suddenly he thought: What am I doing? I'm too old for this and I stopped to wait for the soldiers to arrive. Pulling himself behind him, the soldier approached the Corvette, looked at the clock and said, "Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a reason why I'm having such a speed I've never heard before. Prior, I will let you go." The old gentleman took a break. Then he said, "Years ago, my wife ran away with a state soldier. I thought you were bringing her back". "Good day, sir", the cop replied :D:D:D

Have the same joke via Bing:

An elderly citizen took his new convertible Corvette out of the dealership. Doing a takeoff on the road, he it flooring to 80 mph, enjoying the wind breath through what his small grey hair he left. Amazing, he thought he'd flown downwards I-94, pushing the pedal even more. Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw behind him a state truper[1], blinking lights and a lit siren[2]. He story-ed it to 100 mph, then 110, then 120. Suddenly he thought: What am I doing? I'm too old for this, and he pulled on top to wait for the arrival of his truper. Pulling behind him, the truper went to the Corvette, looked at his watch and said, "Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a reason to speed I've never heard before, I'll let you go." The old gentleman stopped. Then he said: "Years ago, my wife ran away with a state truper. I thought you were bringing her back." "You're having a good day, sir," truper answered :D:D:D

Notes: 1. "Trooper" was left in English, I converted it to a Romanian spelling for your pleasure. 2. "lit siren" might sound like a particularly enlightened siren in English, if you squint, but it can sound like "horny mermaid" in Romanian. If you squint.

And the original joke:

A senior citizen drove his brand new Corvette convertible out of the dealership. Taking off down the road, he floored it to 80 mph, enjoying the wind blowing through what little gray hair he had left. Amazing, he thought as he flew down I-94, pushing the pedal even more. Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw a state trooper behind him, lights flashing and siren blaring. He floored it to 100 mph, then 110, then 120. Suddenly he thought, What am I doing? I'm too old for this, and pulled over to await the trooper's arrival. Pulling in behind him, the trooper walked up to the Corvette, looked at his watch, and said, "Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a reason for speeding that I've never heard before, I'll let you go." The old gentleman paused. Then he said, "Years ago, my wife ran off with a state trooper. I thought you were bringing her back." "Have a good day, sir," replied the trooper 😁😁😁

I was going to leave it at this, but I actually have a few comments:

you can kind of get the joke even from GT/Bing's translations.

but that's because you can ignore a lot of what's going on in favor of the bigger picture

once you pay more attention, you see there's a lot to fix

and all the details are funny when you read them, but they interfere with reading the original as it is, making fixing them harder

it's basically whack-a-mole with bad details

That's all, ty for your attention.

[zerolostwalks]

I posted 6,446 times in 2022

That's 6,445 more posts than 2021!

715 posts created (11%)

5,731 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@invisibleraven

@innytoes

@jmrothwell

@wr0temyway0ut

@floating-in-the-blue

I tagged 2,575 of my posts in 2022

#julie and the phantoms - 789 posts

#jatp - 349 posts

#reggie peters - 242 posts

#fanfiction - 148 posts

#srb - 137 posts

#rulie - 134 posts

#jatp fanfic - 120 posts

#julie molina - 97 posts

#i just really love reggie - 87 posts

#writing - 82 posts

Longest Tag: 129 characters

#his last days trapped aimlessly wandering a forest suffocating on unspoken regret. perhaps he’d finally be able to meet a badger.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

TUESDAY!!!! "The cold never bothered me anyway" for Luke Sleeveless Patterson+ anyone plz.

Also for @ri-jane who requested “I don’t know how not to ask for “My hoodie looks good on you” for any pairing 💙”

Alex is not sure how his eyes were not rolling on the floor by his feet. Certain as he was that they’d popped out of his head when he caught sight of Luke ambling around the studio reading over his notebook. Ambling, in his usual ridiculous cut off t-shirt, biceps and part of his toned chest on display, in the uninsulated studio. 

Now, Alex knew stereotypically Los Angeles didn’t get that cold. However, the fact that he could clearly see his and Luke’s breath, he knows Luke should definitely be dressed warmer than he was. 

“Dude.” Alex shouted, his jacket moved with his hands as they flailed. 

Luke’s eyes drifted to Alex as a bright smile split his face. He removed the pen that had taken up residency in his mouth in order to greet Alex, “hey.”

“Hey? Hey?” Alex would have worried if Luke’s brain had frozen, but it was equally likely that Luke just hadn’t noticed how cold it was. After all his friend had managed to completely tune out an honest to god school evacuation once, zoned into his songwriting as he was.

Alex freed his hands from the pocket to more definitively gesture at Luke. “How are you not freezing?”

Luke looked down at himself with a shrug. “I’ve always kind of run a little warmer,” he paused, a weird glint overtaking his eye, “I guess you could say, the cold never bothered me anyway.”

Alex groaned with an eye roll. Luke made a face and shivered minutely. It could have been him reacting badly to his own joke, but Alex wasn’t willing to risk it. 

Alex took of his jean jacket-the hole free actually useful one-thankful he’d decided to double layer the jackets. As quickly as he was able, taking advantage of Luke’s awestruck confusion, Alex pulled his hoodie up over his head and pulled it down over Luke.

“Heeey.” Luke whined, pouting up at Alex, “I told you I was fine.”

“Maybe,” Alex began with a smirk as he donned his jean jacket again thinking of a way that might get Luke to keep the extra layer on, “I just think my hoodie looks good on you.”

When Alex turned his attention back to Luke, the boy’s face had tinted pink. However, he was definitely sliding his arms into the sleeves. Alex’s smile turned fond as he made his way over to his drums and waited for the rest of the band to arrive for rehearsal.

26 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#4

47. “Have you eaten today?” “Am I gonna get in trouble if I say no?” for Ray and any of his plethora of children.

As he pulled the car into the driveway, Ray was more than ready to be done with the day. Unsurprisingly Carlos had crashed at some point on the drive home. He didn’t blame the boy. He felt drained himself and he’d only been spectacing the games from the side lines. 

After some coaxing he managed to get Carlos awake and lucid enough to at least get himself up to his room, where he was probably going to crash on his bed again. Ray followed the half-awake boy to the house with a smile, ready to prevent any crashing.

The house was dark and quiet, Ray double checked the time. He’s pretty sure Julie said the plan for the day was band practice, maybe some writing, followed by pizza and a movie marathon. The rest of the kids should have been well into the final part of that plan by now. 

It’s always possible they decided to have the marathon in the studio. They’d done that before. Though he would never fully understand why they repeatedly chose to marathon movies on the small laptop over using the large TV they had inside the air conditioned house. 

Ray sent Carlos inside and made his way back to the Studio. Sure enough it was lit and very much full of life. He chuckled as he could hear several arguments overlapping each other. 

Entering the studio he found the band, including Flynn, huddled around the notebook covered coffee table. They all animatedly spoke over each other, and Ray chuckled louder as he realized that he was wrong. They weren’t arguing, these kids were somehow in the middle of three conversations at once. 

Conversations that slowly petered out as they all spotted him. Ray did not like the mix of shocked and confused looks he was seeing aimed at him. 

“Dad, you’re home early?” Julie’s quizzical brow looked to the windows, her jaw dropping slightly. 

Ray shook his head with a fond smile. He knew this group had their focus problems. Parents always get warned about the dangers of lack of focus or inattentiveness, never about the struggles of hyper focus. “Carlos’s last game ran a little late actually.”

“What?” Alex squeaked as he pulled out his phone to check the time, Luke leaning over his shoulder. 

Just as Ray thought things could have been worse than the kids losing track of time, he heard a loud stomach growl. It didn’t take long to guess who it came from with how red Reggie became. 

“Have you eaten today?” Ray asked as stoically as he could. The question was aimed directly at Reggie, but it was for the whole room. He could tell they knew by the way they all shuffled where they sat or stood. 

Reggie shrank into himself. His head tilted like he wanted to avert his eyes, but he maintained eye contact. “Are we gonna get in trouble if I say no?” The hint of fear that permeated Reggie’s tone, is exactly why Ray always kept his door open for these kids.

Ray ran a hand through his hair as he let out a long slow breath. He knew he should have called to check on them sooner. It’s not that he didn’t trust them, and that’s why he hadn’t called. To show he trusted them and not seem too overbearing. 

“No, no trouble.” He said, and the fact that the boys noticeably relaxed and became less tense did not sit well in his stomach. “But, none of you are doing anything else until you’ve had dinner.”

There was a bit of chaos and a general clamoring of agreed murmurs with a couple of ‘yes sir’s’ thrown in as the kids all moved. There was a feeble tidying effort made, mostly led by Julie and Flynn, before the group made its way back to the kitchen. 

Ray followed behind, ordering pizza after double checking preferences. He laughed at their reactions when he told them that next time they went a day without food he’d make sure Victoria was informed.

26 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

#3

“Damn I got blood on my shirt” for polyphantoms?

“Luke? Luke?” 

Luke couldn’t tell whose voice drifted to him through the foggy darkness of his mind. Where the hell was he? He was laying on a cold hard surface of some sort, an uneven surface based on whatever was jabbing into his back. 

“Luke!” Luke groaned as the shout ricocheted painfully around his head. Luke painfully blinked his eyes open. Based on the voices he was finally registering the blurry figures hovering above him were Reggie and Alex.

“Oh thank god.” Reggie shakily exhaled, his face red and blotchy once Luke’s vision focused again. Tears pooled at the edges of his stormy sea eyes. Alex’s face had gone pale, his lips a thin tight line. 

Luke moaned louder, involuntarily wincing at the pains and aches that shot through him as he tried to sit up. A good look around and he was outside, some sort of woodsy area he wasn’t familiar with. 

“Damn I got blood on my shirt?” Luke muttered after looking himself over. He tried to find a memory to explain away the blood but all he could find was sore muscles in his legs. Had he been running?

Alex’s eyes went wide, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. His grip on Luke’s shoulder. “Your shirt? Are you fucking serious?”

“Why wou-” Luke started to form a question hoping he could figure out what he wanted to ask as the words left him. He didn’t even get to do that much as Reggie roughly pushed his shoulder. Luke gasped at the pain, “What the hell?”

“You’re so stupid.” Reggie sputtered out and shoved Luke’s shoulder again, before Alex swooped in to hold him back. “Rule number one, don’t go out alone. Never go out alone.”

Memories slowly clicked into place. The deer he’d spotted, an answer to their dwindling food supply. The uncertainty he’d ever be able to find it again coupled with a possible overconfidence in his rusty hunting ability. 

Then the fear and panic as he’d stumbled too far into territory he’d never seen. The howls and whistles that signaled he wasn’t the only hunter out that night. Te grateful relief he had actually ignored rule number one and Reggie and Alex would be safe at least.

Luke was pulled from his thoughts when Reggie broke free of Alex’s grip and tackled Luke into a tight hug. A pained whine escaped him. As much as he usually appreciated hugs especially from Reggie, he was still extremely sore from his whirlwind survival adventure.

“We can’t lose you. I just got you, I won't lose you.” Reggie sobbed into Luke’s neck. Luke glanced at Alex who grimaced, before gently wrapping his own arms around the both of them. 

Luke pressed a kiss he hoped came across as reassuring to the side of Reggie’s head, as he gingerly wrapped one of his sore arms around the back of his neck. He wanted so desperately to promise Reggie and Alex the world but he wasn’t sure if he could. Not with how the world currently was.

Another glance towards Alex and Luke could see, he shared in his hesitation. Alex leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Luke’s forehead and then to the top of Reggie’s head. Luke’s hand moved to pat the back of Reggie’s head with what little strength he had left in his arm. 

“I’m right here, Reggie. Alex and I are both still right here.” It was the best Luke could give.

-----

Injuries

33 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

#2

JATP Fanfic Masterlist:

Find me as JMRothwell on AO3

ACCEPTING PROMPTS - New Prompt lists: Nov 29th, Dec 13th, Jan 3rd, Jan 17th, Jan 31st, Feb 14th, Feb 28th

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Full List of Fics Under the Cut:

AU SandBoxes

ONE SHOT FICS

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MULTI-CHAPTER FICS

🎶 So I Whisper Now In Your Ear: AO3  🖼 (Updated: 07 Oct 22)

Ever since the Orpheum the guys can sense what Julies feeling, Reggie is stuck at what to do one day when it’s nothing but blood curdling panic

🎶 🎵 While You’re in the World: AO3 (Updated 05 December 22)

A PeterPatterLina Corpse Bride AU

You Got a Piece of Me: AO3 (Completed)

Sometimes you have to remember, there is more than one way to say I love you.  

Cant’ Get You (Out of my Mind) : AO3 (Updated 17 Nov 22)

When Julie wakes up with two soul marks she isn't sure what to think.

🎶 All I Ask : AO3 (Completed)

Reggie unexpectedly runs into Julie 5 years after she moved away.

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SERIES

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PROMPT COLLECTIONS

Nov & Dec 2022 Prompts : ; AO3

3 Sentence AU Fics : Tumblr ; AO3

Collection of 3 sentence fics set in various Alternate Universes

Birthday ‘22 Celebration Prompts : Tumblr ; AO3

Series of Birthday themed prompt fills

October 2022 Prompts : Tumblr ; AO3

Series of prompts with Autumn and Halloween themes

See the full post

38 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Thinking about how these dorks were like "how can we best apologize to Julie?" "Oh! let's do a small barbershop trio sort of thing!"

485 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

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