#jean is not there but will be there in the middle of the night

[smittenmeraki]

The fandom keeps taking about how they want Jeremy to get red carded defending Jean (if anyone is going to do that it would be Cat but yall arent ready for that convo) or for Jeremy to yell and go off on kevin for leaving Jean at evermore. I think Jeremy would understand, he wouldn't like it and may be angry but I think he would be more hurt that Kevin had to choose between saftey and betraying a friend. HOWEVER! I counter that Neil would be the one to get onto Kevin. Picture this, its a first banquet since Jean became a Trojan and Neil finds him and they start having a conversation in French about his new team or whatever random topic. Jeremy sees them and immediately is like 'nope, no way, last time these two were alone Jean came home in the middle of the night in shambles.' And goes over there. He doesnt say anything, just stands by Jean giving Neil heavy side eye. Of course Neil being Neil glares straight back. 'The fuck is his problem. He wants to be pissed at me when he failed to protect Jean?' Jean steps in at this point, trying to keep Neil from starting a fight.

"Do not start anything here. Jeremy's done nothing wrong and I am not cleaning up your messes.' Jean scolds in french.

"Nothing wrong? He was supposed to keep you safe. Which he failed at by the way."

"I dont need anyone to keep me safe." Jean glares at him, defending himself to which Jeremy takes one more step closer, just in case. Kevin and Andrew catch onto the commotion and walk over, taking stance next to them.

"Really? If we honestly believed that we wouldnt have sent you to the Trojans, you may as well have been a fox." Neil loosely gestures at Jeremy, dismissive.

"You and I both know he could never fit in as a fox." Kevin cuts in, switching them to English

Neil turns to him full of animosity. The glare of a Wesninski, its enough to make his stomach drop.

"I think youve already had enough say in where he ends up considering you left him at evermore in the first place." Kevin recoils, taking four steps back and staggering on the fifth, a look of horror on his face. When he glances at Jean, hes looking down. He knows its not true but its how it felt. Neil doesn't have to say anything else, Kevin knows what the ravens are capable of, hes seen it, on Jean, on himself, on Neil. The twisted smile on Neils face is enough to force Kevin to look away. Neil switches back to French, in a calmer tone.

"He is meant to keep you safe and help you get through all the shit they did to you. If he is incapable of doing that, you know where to find me. If you are hurt under his watch again." Back to english "I'll handle him." He glares at Jeremy then turns away, Andrew a step behind, staying between them.

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh….”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[ledder4]

ridin price

Price was a meticulously calm man. Always patient and observant, in no hurry at all.

The hot smoke from his cigarette was briefly illuminated by the yellowish hue of the lampshade in his office, the same one that now had its windows closed and curtains hiding its interior, doors closed and locked. Price knew it was wrong to have an affair with one of his sergeants, but he was the captain. He could call the shots whenever he wanted, how he wanted.

And that led him to what's happening now. y/n sneaked into his office in the middle of the night with empty papers and a false pretence of needing to sort out unfinished business with their captain. And him, as an exemplary professional, couldn't dismiss his loyal and devote sergeant.

He kissed y/n slowly, as if his tongue wanted to map every centimetre of their mouth, big calloused hands reaching down to grop the fat of their ass, squeezing it between his fingers. His cock was aching inside his trousers, even though he had just kissed them, forming a wet spot in his tight jeans.

Price tore his lips from y/n's and sat on his swivel chair, hands on their hips to position him between his big, strong thighs. "Still." He commanded, unbuttoning their pants and slowly moving it down their legs, a low growl escaping his lips as he ran his forefinger up their inner thigh. "So good f'me, pup." Price murmured, glazing his lust-filled eyes into theirs.

Gently, Price spread his legs wider apart and held y/n as if they weighed a feather, placing them on his lap with their two legs on each side of his thigh, hands setting on their hips while he placed wet kisses on their neck. He rocked them back and forth very, very slowly on his thigh, making their core rub harshly against the fabric of his jeans, teasing them. "C'mon, puppy. Practice ridin' me, make a mess in my pants."

[slimybeth69]

WIP WEDNESDAY

thanks for the tag @joelmillerisapunk

I got two lil snippets comin' in hot.

1.) GIRL DINNER

-

Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.

You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.

"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.

Barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night. You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.

"Couple more minutes, Mister-man. Please?" You fucking whimper.

The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.

Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through your jeans, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!

And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.

Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.

"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.

You feel it now, too.

"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.

"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.

"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.

Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.

"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-

He's never drinking with you again. Never again.

"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.

He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.

"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.

The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his mouth, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.

Joel groans into your mouth when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.

"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.

"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.

Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."

--

2.) A Lot Of Things

This is for my @jolapeno Dear-uary epistolary challenge (I can spell epistolary now on the first try, thanks Jo!)

--

Lucien might not be good, but he isn’t stupid. 

What woman would stick around if it wasn’t for the stuff and things? The money, the nice house the two of you shared- granted you were there alone a lot of the time. 

If Lucien was a good man, he would have left you by now.

But you stay, and you take his money, and you let him ‘make it up to you’, so– in his mind, you’re not good either. 

That’s why you’re perfect for him, and he’s perfect for you. 

This is all just a charade put on. The storming off, the sitting in the bathroom for hours. 

It’s gotta be. 

Lucien leaves the bathroom door for the first time since you walked in there, and walks to the table next to the bed, still messy from your early morning ‘wake up call’ to him– only to now have to be searching for that stupid– yep. There it is. 

Lucien grabs the hotel notepad and the pen sitting beside it and scribbles down words that probably mean nothing to either of you anymore- he says them so often.

I'm sorry.

Then he slides it under the bathroom door.

 “Babe?” 

There was a time when his voice saying that name didn’t make your stomach churn. There had been a time in your relationship when you knew he called you that alone.

That’s not the case anymore, so any name that isn’t your name feels like a firm slap across your cheek. 

A part of you wants him to worry that you took too many pills again, or maybe fell asleep in the tub, but the way he’s speaking tells you he knows you didn’t. You wouldn’t. 

Not after last time- you didn’t even want to do it then. You just wanted him to notice you- to see you, to think about you when you weren’t standing directly in front of him. 

Lucien forgot you when you weren’t around, and you had done everything to try and make him remember.

Changed his lock screen background to a picture of the two of you so when he looked at his phone or went to unlock it to take the number of some beautiful woman, he’d have to see you first. 

It was never the same picture when he’d come home from filming or his press tours– and you know what that means.

The hotel notepad comes through the space between the bathroom door and the floor.

I'm sorry.

Guilt. 

There is guilt inside of you, too. 

There is a part of you that thinks if you really loved him, you wouldn’t let him keep doing this to you- you would have put your foot down years ago and told him to man up or get out.

You wipe your tears before they can fall onto the paper, and stain it with the evidence of your sadness.

I know.

Then you pass it back to him under the door silently.

--

npt: @pedrospookie @almostempty @gothcsz @sp00kymulderr

@joelalorian @magpiepills @lotusbxtch

a hopeless, but FULL PRESSURE tag to @creepycorbeaux - I wanna see what you GOT BITCH, JESUS.

[achilles-rage]

leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second from the psychical intimacy list with also 3)friends with benefits from the smut prompt list with buck

yay i love this!! (also so sorry this is ass. i wrote the entire thing, and then tumblr mobile went down and i lost it all, so i had to rewrite it from memory)

also please keep sending these, they're fun!!

"leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second" from this post, and "friends with benefits" from this post

MDNI- 18+ only!

you know you shouldn't be here. you know that this can only end horribly. buck is one of your best friends, and you can't imagine how awkward it would be if things went wrong, but you still find yourself here, on buck's doorstep, close to midnight.

your situation had started a couple months ago when you both came home drunk from the bar. one thing had led to another and you were sprawled out on his bed, both of you completely naked as he thrusted into you slowly, yet deeply.

you had both woken up the next morning slightly embarrassed, vowing it would never happen again, but somehow, when either one of you were lonely, you always end up in this same situation.

tonight is no different. you came to his house after an exceptionally bad date, hoping that buck could take your mind off of things.

he pulls you into his apartment quickly, and after telling him every painful detail of your date, your lips find his, and pretty soon, you're straddling his lap on the couch.

your kisses are hungry, yet lazy, and your hips set the pace as a slow grind against his lap as you claw at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. he parts from your lips just long enough for you to take his shirt off of him, his hands not leaving your hips as they help you move against his hard cock beneath his jeans.

when you finally sink onto him, feeling the burning stretch of him filling you up so perfectly, you grip his shoulders hard. you catch yourself thinking about having him like this all the time. having him as yours completely, not just as a fuck buddy.

it’s not just that he’s good at what he does, either, although he definitely is, he also makes you feel so loved, so seen. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” he always tells you while his hands roam your body, “always so good for me.” and your heart always soars.

you’re always so overwhelmed with his attention, and he has such a special way of making you feel adored. if it wasn’t with his words, it would be with his touch; groping and squeezing at every part of exposed skin while his eyes follow the path of his hands, drinking in your soft belly, and your chest, and your thick thighs. you can see the way he looks at you, but you can also feel the way he treasures having you like this. all his for the night.

he helps you roll your hips against his, eyes trained on the way your face contorts in pleasure and the way his cock disappears past your glistening folds. and, when you both finally cum, he buries his face into your chest, using one arm wrapped around your soft middle to keep you pressed firmly against him while the other hand focuses on your clit, fingers circling the sensitive bud and ensuring that you get every last bit of pleasure that he can give you.

he always kisses you after too, and then cleans you up, but tonight, you can’t bring yourself to kiss him back. the entire night you’ve been thinking about how much you want him as more than just this, and you feel embarrassed that you’ve fallen for the man that you have a friends with benefits situation going on with.

you can’t let him kiss you. it’s always gentle, and you’re afraid that if he kisses you one more time, your heart will break completely. as if his kisses are more intimate than having him inside of you.

he brings his lips towards yours, pulling you into him with one hand on the side of your neck, and at the last second, you drop your head and lean back slightly. 

he notices immediately, and pulls back, brows furrowing in confusion when he sees your sad eyes.

“hey, hey, hey. what’s wrong? look at me.” he says softly, bringing a finger up to the underside of your chin and forcing your face back up.

“i can’t do this anymore.” you whisper. you look up into his eyes, and you can feel your heart breaking more. he’s everything you could’ve asked for, and he’s nothing more than a friend.

“why not? did i do something wrong?” he asks nervously, feeling all the air being knocked out of him as your words settle in. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he silently prays that he hasn’t done something to fuck everything up.

“no. you did everything right. so right that you’ve ruined every man for me. and all i can ever think about is you.” you explain defeatedly, finally feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you laugh pathetically at your situation.

you’re not sure if you’re crying from sadness, or embarrassment, but either way, you know that you can’t let another tear fall. you don’t want things to get any worse than they already are.

without another word, buck pulls your lips to his, kissing you passionately. he tries to convey all his feelings into this kiss, trying to tell you that there’s no reason to cry, that he wants you too. you feel dizzy as you kiss him back, melting into the kiss and feeling unable to think about what this kiss means. all you can think about is his skin against yours. his cock still buried inside of you. his hands moving up and down the bare skin of your sides.

“i love you.” he whispers when he pulls away, bringing your foreheads together as his thumb moves in comforting strokes along your cheek.

“you- you do?” you ask, unable to speak louder than a whisper. you feel like what you heard couldn’t have been what he just said. surely you misheard him, and if you speak any louder, you’re sure your voice will crack, which will cause more tears to fall.

“i’ve always loved you.” he clarifies, pulling your forehead away from his and looking deeply into your eyes as he holds your face in his hands.

you let out a shaky breath, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. but you find none. his eyes are full of love, and you can see the hint of fear as well, as if he’s afraid that you don’t feel the same, despite all that you’ve said.

“i love you, too.” you whisper, sniffling softly as a grin erupts on your face. he grins as well, and then his lips are on yours again, claiming you as his own. 

“god, i love you so much.” he murmurs against your lips, hands moving in a desperate attempt to pull you impossibly closer. you’re finally his. all his.

[unintentionaloracle]

Rewards and Consequences [Fic]

AKA "The Bloodline Doesn't Know" Part Two (Read First Part Here)

I had more ideas with this. Enough to write more with it.

Summary: After another "information exchange" with Kevin, Sami's guilt almost becomes too much.

Kevin greeted Sami by pulling his flannel shirt off (this time with snaps, Sami had learned from last time). He roughly started inspecting him. Sami bristled. He'd barely entered the suite and he was already this revved up?

“Hey! At least say hi, first! Or give me a minute before we get into it. Especially after you threw me so hard into those pipes tonight...” He protested. Kevin had insisted they stage a brawl backstage.

Kevin, to his credit, looked somewhat repentant. “Sorry. I'm not trying to “get into it”. I'm trying to make sure I didn't hurt you too bad,” Kevin said, going back to inspecting Sami's back, then torso. He pressed a kiss to Sami's shoulder. “Good, you're fine.” He said, locking the door behind his “conspirator”. “And I was just trying to make it convincing.” Kevin cupped his face.

Sami smacked his hand aside as his heart skipped a beat. “We didn't need to actually fight, you know...”

“With all the snitches that could blow our cover? Never,” Kevin said. “Especially with how Cody’s been acting. What if he hurt you to get to me?”

Sami sighed. He'd almost forgot this phantom of their relationship was supposed to be a secret. The last thing he wanted was for his big web of lies to drag him into someone else's feud. “You're right.”

Kevin smirked. “I always am. Now...” He said, pressing closer to Sami. “Hello, Sami~” he purred like a jungle cat.

Sami swallowed hard. He hated the amount of sway Kevin had over him like this on principle. But in the moment...

“Hi,” his voice cracked.

He looked around. There were rose petals, some sort of bottle on ice next to “Kevin's” title, chocolate covered strawberries, matching robes, what looked like a jacuzzi in a corner...

“You went all out, tonight...” Sami noted as Kevin kissed his neck. “I mean, this is the executive suite, right?”

“As the true champ, I need to stay in the best room, Sami. And since the honeymoon suite would've been too obvious, I had to bring those kinds of accommodations here, to make it up to you for tonight. Plus, you've been working so hard for me, and had such a long day...you deserve a reward~”

A shiver went down Sami's spine. “I thought the reward was the s—”

Kevin cut him off with a kiss. Sami immediately kissed back and navigated them to the bed. Kevin sat down and navigated him onto his lap, peeling his own shirt off before pawing and clawing at him like an animal. Kevin broke off the kiss, licking his lips.

“That’s more like a mutual benefit, Sami,” he said, punctuating it with a wink before nipping at his collarbone.

---

Sami hadn't planned on knocking on Jey's hotel door, clad in just his underwear and a robe, holding his shirt and jeans in his hands in the middle of the night. But since becoming a wrestler, life had a way of putting him in weird situations.

This was not how this night was supposed to go, at all.

He waited patiently for Jey to open the door, bristling at the cold of the hotel hallway. Sami held the fluffy robe closer to himself. “C’mon, c’mon, c’moooooon...” He pleaded under his breath, hopping from foot to foot. He made sure to cover the hickeys and bites on his skin as best he could.

Thankfully, Jey finally opened the door, very confused by the state Sami was in.

“Jey, I need you,” Sami stated.

“Ah, man, I was worried about this...Sami, I love you, but not that–”

“I need to talk to you!” Sami corrected, flushing. “Sorry, I know how this looks.”

Jey sighed with relief, stepping aside. “Come on in, Uce.”

Sami nodded, softly thanking him before entering the hotel room. He glanced at the clothes in his hands. “First, mind if I...?”

“Please do,” Jey said, looking away.

Sami quickly tossed the robe aside and scrambled to pull his jeans and flannel back on. He grabbed his robe. “You're good, my dawg.”

Jey whirled around. He motioned to the bed before sitting on it, legs folded. Sami sat across from him, mimicking Jey’s pose. Jey took a deep breath. “So, you're finally ready to talk about whatever's been eating you?”

Sami sighed. Jey had been asking for a while about Sami’s recent change in demeanor. He'd always brushed him off, not wanting to drag him into this mess he'd made...or lie to anyone else. But right now he needed some sort of lifeline. He nodded.

“So...I've been seeing Kevin again. Kinda.”

“Oh...wait, what do you mean by “kinda” seeing him?” Jey asked.

“Well, it's not like we're dating, again. But we've been meeting up and, uh...hooking up...”

“Ah.”

“But I've also been feeding him information...on Roman...Nothing serious!” He specified.

Not that we've had serious information lately.

“Just enough to satisfy him!” Sami continued. “He thinks I'm his inside man.”

“...Oh...” Jey frowned, his eyebrows drooping. Sami could feel his disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to make him happy and not feel alone. And to protect the family. I would've warned you if he tried anything! Looking out for you and Jimmy is the reason I even came back to The Bloodline.”

Jey's shoulders seemed to ease, but there was still a hurt confusion in his eyes. “Why tell me this now? After you lied to me so long?”

“Because you're my best friend. Hell, you're a brother to me. I trust you more than Roman and Heyman, so I'm telling you more than I told Roman and Heyman...”

“And Jimmy?”

“Oh, you know Jimmy can't keep a secret.”

Jey nearly objected, then thought about it, then shrugged.

“Look, I've gotten into a mess tonight and I need someone to talk to. Someone I can be honest with. Please, Jey...”

Jey leaned back with a sigh. “Alright, so what's the problem in your web of lies?”

Sami relaxed for a moment before tensing again. “So I met up with Kevin in his suite after the show. He decided we were gonna hook up before any information passed this time, not that I minded. After that...”

---

Sami and Kevin laid in bed together, Sami panting and covered with sweat. He glanced around the room as he came down from the high of Kevin, hoping to ward off the guilt that always grew after their recent nights of passion.

He saw his reflection in the Winged Eagle. The belt Kevin tried to snap Cody's neck for. The pit in his stomach started forming early.

Kevin rested his head on Sami's chest, pulling him closer and murmuring in French. “My beautiful Sami”, “no one can have you”, “you stupid handsome man”...

“Did we reset your brain there, Kev?” Sami teased, relaxing a little.

Kevin put his hand on Sami's heart. “Give me a minute...” Kevin said in partial English.

Sami chuckled. “So, do you want me to wait to give you the report on Roman?”

“Report?” Kevin asked, pulled out of his apparent Sami-induced fugue state. His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised for a moment. “Right, the report on Roman...” He said, almost flatly. “Go ahead.”

“I mean, I don't have much info, though. He wasn't there and didn't even bother to have Heyman pass anything along to us...” Sami huffed. Roman's lack of devotion to the rest of the group really didn't help morale. “So unless you wanna know about the thirty minutes we spent working out how Jey should respond to Rhea’s new post...”

“What post?”

“The one of her in cutoff shorts and an OG Bloodline shirt she made into a halter. She captioned it “These may be more my colors, but I prefer the pink and blue” or something.”

“Ah,” Kevin said.

“We had a whole debate over what it meant!”

“It means she misses her boyfriend hanging out with her instead of your stupid Bloodline...” Kevin said, matter of factly. “I get how she feels.”

“Exactly! That's what I said!” Sami said, wincing at Kevin's last remark. “But Jimmy insisted it meant something else! And after all the replies we pitched, do you wanna know how he responded?” Sami asked.

“He just posted the stupid eyes emoji...”

“HE JUST POSTED THE STUPID EYES EMOJI!” Sami confirmed, exasperated.

Kevin chuckled.

“I bet your day was less frustrating.”

“Relatively. Guy at the gas station recognized me and gave me a free donut this morning because I “was absolutely right”. People are starting to see the light, Sami!” Kevin said gleefully.

Sami couldn't help but smile. For a moment, he felt warm. Things almost felt like they used to. Like they should've stayed...

The pit in his stomach was back.

Kevin ran his fingers through Sami's hair. “Thank you, Sami. For being there for me through all this. The only person who's been there for me...” He moved his hand down to Sami’s hip, his thumb tracing his hip bone. He looked Sami in the eyes. “I love you, Sami.”

Sami felt the air leave his lungs. The pit grew.

---

“Oh no...so what'd you say back?” Jey asked.

“The only thing I could...”

---

“I love you, too, Kev...” Sami replied, keeping his voice steady.

Kevin smiled and kissed Sami. But this time it wasn't blazing and hungry. It was soft, tender, almost savoring it. Sami kissed back, allowing himself to pretend they weren't lying in a bed of Sami's lies. He'd gotten so good at swallowing his guilt these last few weeks, why stop now?

“C'mon, let's go clean up in the jacuzzi bath...” Kevin said, wiggling his eyebrows. He shifted his hand once again, this time to the small of Sami’s back.

---

“...Uce...”

“And you want to know the messed up part?” Sami asked, shaking. “...I wasn't lying...” His voice cracked and his eyes burned. “I still love him...”

Jey immediately pulled Sami into a hug. Sami clung to him as he cried it out. “Where's Kevin now?”

“Asleep,” he buried his head in Jey's shoulder. “I left him a note that I'd be back.”

Jey patted his back. “And you're sure he's not just manipulating you?” The “again”, while left unsaid, hung in the air.

Sami shook his head. “I saw it in his eyes, Jey. That man bore his soul to me and I'm stringing him on. I can't...I can't do it anymore...” He squeezed his honorary brother one more time before letting go.

“So what are you gonna do, Uce?”

“The only thing I can do... something that's better for everyone...I'm gonna quit The Bloodline...” Sami said.

“Sami!” Jey exclaimed. He looked like Sami had just stabbed him in the heart. “What about the family?”

“I still love you and Jimmy! And Roman...” He hesitated. “It’s been fun being together again. Hanging with both you and Jimmy is something I've missed ever since I left The Bloodline. But...I also want my own life again, too, ya know?”

“Sami...”

“You feel it, too, right? Before all this, I was taking Gunther to his limit. Chasing titles. My relationship with Kevin was the healthiest it'd ever been! And you! You were the Intercontinental Champion! Forging your own path beyond the shadow of your family tree! And you and Rhea were...whatever you two were!

“And now look at us. When we're not waiting around for Roman to show up and give us orders (if he has any), we're busy getting harassed and attacked for associating with him again. I not only jeopardized my relationship with Kevin with this, I turned it into a complete mess! And I cany imagine you or Rhea are too happy you put what you had on pause for this...”

Jey looked down at the comforter. “No. I was actually just DMing her about it and the picture...”

“And?”

Jey rubbed his face. “And we both agreed this was a better conversation to have in person. Probably in the morning...”

“Oh, Jey...”

“You might have a point, Sami. Maybe we do gotta move on.”

Sami smiled. He tackle-hugged Jey, sending them both crashing onto the bed.

“And you, Sami,” Jey said. “You gotta come clean to Kevin, uce. Seriously, we didn't make you have to weave this web of lies. You chose to do it that way...”

“I know...” Sami said, sitting up.

“Hey,” Jey said, sitting back up as well before patting his shoulder. “You got this, uce.”

“Thanks, Jey. You're the best. And hey, just because I’m leaving The Bloodline doesn't mean I won't still have your back, man.”

“I know. And I still got yours, Sami Uso. Need to crash here, tonight?” Jey asked.

Sami smiled. “No, I don't wanna worry Kevin if he wakes up. Thanks, though.”

“No problem. Besides, I got something I need to do. You go get your man, alright?”

They exchanged their handshake before parting ways. As Sami roamed back to the elevator, something occurred to him:

What something?

---

Rhea was put up in a hotel a few blocks away. A safety precaution, given how ugly things got with her and Liv. She was wiping her eyes: both to help remove the makeup and to remove the tears.

She hated crying over a guy. It made her feel stupid. The great Rhea Bloody Ripley, no better than most girls when it came to her crush. Vulnerable was not something she liked to be. It's why she rarely let her stone mask slip. But Jey...

...Why did the hot and sweet ones have to be idiots? Despite what they'd agreed on, he didn't seem like he understood the problem. That as sweet as it was that he wanted to help his family, they weren't the only ones who needed him–

There was a knock at the door. This late?

Rhea grabbed her title as a weapon (she could handle a creep barehanded, but insurance never hurt) and opened the door. Awaiting her was...

“Jey,” Rhea said, dropping her title.

“Hey, baby...” Jey said, catching it.

Oh, now I'm “baby” again... A bitter part of her thought.

“What...what are you doing here?” She asked, instead.

“I couldn't wait until morning to see you...” Jey said simply.

Rhea checked her watch. “I mean, it's midnight. Technically it’s morning.”

“Oh really? Didn't check when I walked over here.”

“You walked!? This far!? This late!?”

“Like I said, I couldn't wait. I needed to see my girl.” He shrugged. “And I'm pretty sure she needed to see me...”

Rhea practically melted. He's an idiot, but damn, if he can't make a girl feel loved when he tries...

She pulled him in for their first kiss at the same time he pulled her in. As their lips met, they walked inside, closing the door.

Rhea's belt clattered to the floor.

---

Sami peeled his clothes back off before coming to bed, snuggling close to Kevin. His lover stirred. “Mmm...Sami? Why are you up?”

“Couldn't sleep. Needed to take a walk. Sorry to wake you up, Kev.”

“Mmm, it's okay. You're cute. I'll allow it.” Kevin rasped, flipping Sami around so he could properly spoon him.

Let's hope I'm cute enough to allow a lot of things... Sami thought.

“Hey, Kev? Can we talk?”

“Can it wait until morning?” He asked, nuzzling the back of Sami's neck.

No! Sami thought.

“Sure,” Sami said.

Idiot! Why are you doing this to yourself!? Why are you like this!?

“Cool. G’night, Sami...” Kevin said, planting a soft kiss to his neck before fully settling in.

“Night, Kev...”

Within a minute, Kevin was snoring gently. Sami didn't mind. They'd shared a room long enough that the rumble was like white noise to him. Almost soothing, in a way. And he needed all the soothing he could get.

He assured himself it would all be fine. It was probably better to have this conversation when Kevin was fully awake anyway. And they both needed the rest.

One last white lie wouldn't kill them.

[vorakh]

collapsing tenement case is so important to me. i can see why it was left out, but part of me wishes it wasn't.

[the-shy-skeleton]

[tara-fantastico]

I think a big part of why aftg (the original triology) so often gets referred to as bad writing is because the language is a bit plain. It does have some absolute bangers, but compared to Jean's way with words, a lot of Neil's inner monologue is rather straightforward.

Which is probably largely due to Nora's writing evolving over a decade, but it also works so well inverse.

Given that Neil never was allowed to see the beauty in anything because it was considered dangerous, and was scrutinised by his mother from a very young age to make sure his sole focus was survival, his one track mind makes sense.

Jean, meanwhile, was punished for every little action and behaviour his abusers didn't like while also being told over and over that he himself had no value, but no one ever cared about him enough to warn him of the world. He was not allowed a lot, if any, positive experiences while in the Nest, and he was not allowed to actively want things, but unlke Neil he was never taught to fear pleasure because it itself was a risk, only because he might be punished for it.

Therefore, when they are both free out in the world, it makes sense that Jean is faster to see and express beauty, while Neil takes longer before he can see happiness as anything but bait for a trap.

[mapbottakeamap]

I'm pretty sure consistently not getting a good amount of sleep can like, actually be damaging to your heath. I know Tetsuiji wanted to maximize time on the court but I'm pretty sure having all of this athletes sleep deprived constantly is actually going to make his entire team worse.

[meowyjean]

isaac hugging the book and feeling sparks bc he finally found the words to his feelings!!!! cried my eyes out at 3am! <3

[alifeoffairytales]

Léon Georges Jean-Baptiste Carré (1878 ~ 1942) 1926 illustration for 'The Book of One Thousand and One Nights'

[stupidbloob]

Hello fans.

I've made another.

Enjoy. 〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

[sygneth]

Am I lost in some addiction? Or just chasing state of mind? We are trapped by my ambitions. I don’t mean to sound unkind. Hurting people, hurt people, I’m really missing you. But I’m feeling disrespected from the screaming that you do.

inspo song | my DE comic

[casdeans-pie]

Dean, whispering to the Angel in bed beside him who literally cannot sleep: Cas. You awake?