#just her diversity in looks is something that got my writing hands itching

[laylawatermelon]

Ehem...

ANNOUNCEMENT 📢

PUT ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE 🗣️🗣️🗣️

I got ideas ...

A mistress of mischief maybe ..

Something Adams family adjacent?

Give her something with whimsy!

A mad hatter role perhaps?

Ugh Zendaya please we need you. Gothic sexy scary ZENDAYA we need you!!

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Ten

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of execution, Scout has a plan

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Hey guys! Friendly reminder that I have two writing challenges going at the moment! My Christmas Challenge and my Playlist Challenge are both still taking entries! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Playlist

Whispers echoed the streets as you made your way back towards the saloon, and you could feel the stares from the last remaining spectators from the crowd earlier. Your eyes scanned the different faces, desperate to find someone you knew. Someone who could help. You spotted Birdie leading Bunny back into the saloon, a look of concern on the teacher’s face as she placed a steadying hand on the back of the saloon girl.

You made a beeline towards the saloon, almost running into a couple of people in the process, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was freeing Jake, and if you couldn’t find the Daggers, then Bunny and Birdie would surely have an idea. Pushing through the saloon doors, your eyes immediately landed on the bar where the two girls sat, Birdie stroking a hand up and down Bunny’s back in a soothing gesture. You marched to where they stood, and Birdie looked over at you when you were just a few feet away.

“Scout,” she breathed, tears kissing her lash line as she stared at you. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“Where are they?” You asked her, mouth pressed into a firm line to keep from falling apart completely. It wouldn’t serve you to sit around and mope about the situation. You had to take action, and you knew that the boys were already working on a plan to free Jake. “What happened?”

Birdie looked at you hesitantly, hand still on Bunny’s back. “I don’t know. They took off in the middle of everything. I think Jake used himself as a diversion or something, I’m not sure. Those men came in here and started saying such awful things to Bunny, and then Bob overheard, and, and everything just happened so fast, Scout. It was chaos.”

You nodded, letting out a frustrated breath.

“It’s my fault,” Bunny whispered, picking up her head from where she hung it over her arms. She looked at you with lost, far away eyes, and the sight sent a stab through your heart. “I’m sorry, Scout. This is all my fault.”

“Bunny, no,” Birdie chided, but the other girl shook her head.

“No,” she hiccuped. “I should have never come here. If I hadn’t left New Orleans, none of this would be happening.”

“It’s not your fault,” you muttered. “None of this is your fault. This was a setup from the start, and it was all due to that bastard Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Birdie asked you, eyes still weary. “Who is that?”

“He’s a real sonofabitch,” Bunny murmured, gaze still focused on you. “He comes in here from time to time. He’s got a really bad energy about him.”

“He set this whole thing up,” you scowled. “The remarks, the fight, the arrest. It was all his doing. I’m sure of it.”

“Surely you can tell Sherrif Kazansky about it,” Birdie smiled, hope beginning to shine in her eyes. “You can tell him, and he’ll have to let Jake go!”

“It’s not that simple, Birdie,” you sighed, causing the other girl’s smile to fall. “Marshal Simpson has been itching to get his hands on the Daggers since he got here. It’s the whole reason he came to Maverick in the first place, actually. He’s not going to let Jake go unless I give him a good reason. No, I need to find the other boys and figure out what their plan is to get him out. I can help with that.”

“They’ll probably be lying low until tonight,” Bunny murmured, looking up to lock eyes with you, face set in her usual stoicism. “You’re best bet is to go by Maverick and Penny’s after sunset. They’ll be there.”

You nodded at her, turning to walk away when Birdie caught your arm, forcing you to look back.

“What are you going to do in the meantime, Scout?” She asked, a worried frown on her lips.

“I’m going to go see my brother.”

“Surely there must be something you can do, Benji,” you pleaded, pacing around your brother’s office. He eyed you from where he sat, leaned back in his chair as he regarded you. He watched you pace across the carpet, and you were sure you looked a sight at this point. The ends of your skirts were muddy from running around earlier that morning, and you knew your hair had come out of your neatly tied bun, as you could feel the loose strands kissing your neck.

“Scout,” Benjamin sighed. “Take a seat.”

You shook your head vigorously, casting him a look of displeasure. “There’s no time to sit, Benji. Time is something we don’t have, and I’m wasting it just standing around waiting!”

“Scout-”

“Who knows how long they’ll keep him alive for? You have to represent him in his trial. I’m not asking, Benji. I’m begging you, please do-”

“Scout,” he snapped, leaning forward and pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Benji always did that when he was preparing to deliver bad news, and you stopped your pacing, heart dropping. He looked back up at you, and you pursed your lips. His eyes were sad, like he knew his next words might break you. “Jake isn’t getting a trial.”

“What do you mean?” You demanded, facing him fully now. Your brow was pinched, mind refusing to make sense of what he was telling you.

“Just that,” he sighed. “Jake isn’t getting a trial. There will be no jury. There will be no judge. His death warrant has already been signed.”

You shook your head, fighting back tears as rage overtook you.

“They can’t do that,” you reasoned, moving forward, placing your hands on his desk as you leaned into him. “There has to be a trial.”

“There won’t be,” Benjamin frowned. “Marshal Simpson was sent here to get rid of the Daggers. Even if there was a trial, it would be a show one at best. Unless someone has a plan to break him out, then Jake stays in jail. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“I thought law and order meant something in this world,” you muttered, feeling the tears sting your eyes once again as you stood up and turned.

“It does, Scout,” Benjamin said gently. “But law and order mean different things to different agendas.”

You glanced back at him, and you once again noted the sadness that his eyes held.

“Go home, Scout,” he sighed. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

The sun had just slipped below the horizon when you stepped out from your hiding spot behind Hondo’s store. Most of the people were milling about in front of the saloon or the brothel, but a few drunken stragglers stumbled down the street, laughing and cheering as they made their way. You stuck to the shadows, taking care not to be seen by anyone as your eyes stayed glued to the door of the jail. It was only a few moments before you saw Beau Simpson step foot out the door, shrugging his jacket on as he made his way down to the saloon. His lips were pursed into a frown as he sauntered over towards the saloon. You waited with bated breath as he slipped past some of the drunken patrons, only letting it loose when he stepped through the swinging doors.

You kept your head down as you hurried down the street, doing your best to hide your face in the shadows. Light streamed out from the windows of the jail, illuminating your face as you stepped up to the door. The door creaked on its hinges as you pushed it open, Sheriff Kazansky looking over at you from where he sat in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the desk in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking you over. There was a hint of wonder and mischief in his eyes, a slow smirk coming to rest on his face.

“You shouldn’t be here, darlin’,” he drawled, placing his feet on the floor. “This ain’t no place for a lady such as yourself.”

“Where is he?” You asked him, stepping into the room and quickly closing the door behind you.

“Scout?”

You peered behind the sherif and into the shadows at the familiar voice. You saw a figure shift in one of the cells, and you began to rush towards it. Tom stopped you, standing quickly to block your path and placing his hands on your shoulders. You looked at him, brow furrowed, but all you saw was worry and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready to see him like this?” He asked you quietly, lips pressing into a thin line as he continued to study you. You squared your shoulders back, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Please,” you murmured, feeling your bottom lip tremble slightly as you pleaded with the older man. “Please let me see him.”

Tom stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at the door.

“You have five minutes, Scout.”

You smiled at him gratefully, turning and making your way back towards the shadows that housed the cells.

Jake was on the floor, leaned up against the far wall facing the bars of the cell. His clothes were ruffled and his hair was mussed, lips pulled into a thin line and eyes were contemplative. When he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, the chains surrounding his wrists and ankles jingling with every movement.

You felt the tears come back with a vengeance as the dam you had built to keep from breaking down all day began to overflow. A sob racked through you, the tears now flowing freely as you all but threw yourself against the cold metal bars. Jake caught you as best he could, the two of you slowly easing down onto your knees. You cried into his arms, feeling your copious amounts of tears staining his shirt as he stroked your hair.

“Please don’t cry, Scout,” he soothed, pressing firm kisses to the top of your head. “Everything is okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed. “It’s not, so don’t tell me that it is.”

“These things happen, honey girl,” he sighed, holding you tighter, seemingly afraid to let you go. You reveled in how his strong arms felt around you, making you feel like your whole world wasn’t ending in that moment. “You wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

You pulled back to look at him, tears still running down your face, but having slowed to a trickle at this point. “It was Isaac, Jake. It was all a setup. I saw him in the crowd this morning. He planned the whole thing.”

“I know.”

You balked, brow furrowing as you looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Jake sighed again, resting his forehead against one of the bars.

“I saw him too.”

“We have to do something, Jake! We have to tell them that this was-” You cried, turning to move away, but Jake grabbed your hand to stop you. You turned back to him, noticing for the first time that his eyes were shining with tears of his own. Your heart dropped at the sight, and you allowed him to pull you back down, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you.

“There’s no time, pretty girl,” he murmured. “There’s just no time left.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, tears starting anew.

“Scout, these past few months have been the happiest of my life. I never thought I’d meet a spitfire like you, let alone get someone like you to love me. I have loved every minute spent with you. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you’re mad. I love when you yell at me when I’m being an idiot. I love when you smile at me when you think I’m not lookin’. I love how you feel in my arms and how completely happy you make me feel.”

“Why does this sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You asked him, a sob shaking your entire body. “You’re not dying on me. If you die, I die, you understand me?”

Jake smiled at you sadly, moving his hands down to dig through his pocket. He raised his shackled hands back up, this time holding onto a golden chain. A small, round pendant hung at the bottom, golden bands intricately woven with small diamond embedded into it.

“I know that it’s not the emerald,” he started, “but it’s all I could afford with the money I had leftover from working at the ranch.”

You stared at the necklace, a thousand different thoughts running through your head. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry you had ever seen, made even more so by the honest man who offered it to you. More tears streamed down your cheeks, and you shook your head.

“I don’t want it,” you murmured.

Jakes face dropped, eyes questioning as he looked at you.

“Jake Seresin,” you said firmly, fixing him with your best scowl. “You promised to make an honest woman out of me, and I’ll be damned if I let you worm your way out of keeping that promise, do you hear me?”

Jake let out a startled chuckle, dropping his head to rest on his forearms before looking back up at you with a bemused expression.

“Honey girl, what on earth am I supposed to do with this necklace now?”

“You can give it to me when you get out of here,” you sniffed, eyes tracing over the lines on his face. “You can give it to me, and then you and I are going to grow old together.”

Jake said nothing, all humor leaving his face as he watched you. Before either of you could say anything more, Tom cleared his throat from where he hovered in the doorway, and you glanced back at him.

“Your time is up, Scout,” he said quietly, gently. “The marshal will be back any moment.”

You nodded, looking back at Jake, cupping his cheek and leaning in to press a desperate kiss to his lips. He kissed you back with urgency, reluctantly pulling away, and helping you stand through the bars. You watched as a tear slipped down his cheek, and you reached up to brush it away. He caught your hand, holding it to his face before turning and placing a firm kiss to your palm.

“I’ll see you on the other side, honey girl,” he rasped, letting go of you and stepping back. You didn’t move, and it took Sheriff Kazansky gently grabbing your elbow and pulling you into the other room for you to leave. You scrubbed at your eyes furiously, jumping when the door opened, revealing U.S. Marshal Simpson.

He blinked at you in surprise before his eyes darted over to where Tom was once again sitting at his desk, looking like he had never moved in the first place. Beau shrugged his jacket off and hung his hat on the hook by the door, eyeing you wearily.

“Miss,” he greeted with a nod. “What brings you by?”

Your mind scrambled, trying to find any excuse.

“Poor thing had her purse stolen,” Tom spoke up, shaking his head in disappointment. “Must have happened sometime this morning during all the excitement. It’s a damn shame when a young woman can’t even walk the streets in broad daylight without someone stealin’ from her, wouldn’t you agree?”

Beau hummed, moving to sit in the seat opposite Tom. You grimaced, nodding in agreement.

“Yes,” you sighed, “It had something very valuable to me.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye out for it,” Tom smiled, nodding towards the door. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself out there?”

“Oh yes,” you nodded, turning to leave. You had to get to the Daggers, and they would surely be at Maverick and Penny’s home by now. “I’ll be just fine. I really appreciate all of your he-”

You stopped as your eyes caught sight of one of the many missing posters hanging on the wall. A familiar face stared back at you, black eyes just as cold and lifeless as they were in person. Isaac.

“Are you alright there, Scout?” Beau asked you, moving like he was going to get up. You glanced back and put on your best smile.

“Yes! Sorry, I just remembered a place I forgot to check for my purse. I’ll have to go there and let you know if I find it.”

As you moved for the door, you heard their last exchange.

“When do you want to do this, Beau?”

“Don’t hang’em til noon, Tom. That gives us time to get everything sorted out.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That wasn’t a lot of time for you to get everything sorted. You gathered your skirts and broke out into a run once you hit the street.

Maverick and Penny’s home was lit up, casting a faint glow out onto the dirt road as you walked up. You could hear muffled chatter coming from inside, and it cut off when you knocked on the door. A moment passed before Penny hesitantly cracked it open, sighing in relief when she saw it was you. She opened the door all the way and quickly gestured you to walk in.

“It’s alright,” she called out ahead of you. “It’s just Scout.”

The two of you entered the parlor where the rest of the Daggers, plus Birdie, Bunny, Natasha, and Maverick all sat scattered around. Birdie rushed to you, enveloping you into a tight hug. You reciprocated, glancing over her shoulder to see Natasha finishing up some of Reuben’s stitches above his eyebrow.

“I really wish you had come found me earlier,” you heard her mutter to him. “This is going to leave a nasty scar now.”

“Well, when the best doctor in town works in the middle of everything, it’s hard to sneak in and out,” he countered with a grimace as she cut the thread.

Maverick looked at you, face melancholic as his eyes met yours. “What brings you by Scout?”

You shifted your attention from him to Bradley, who was leaning against one of the end tables at the far side of the room.

“What’s the plan, Bradshaw?” You asked him, stepping forward. He glanced up at you, brown eyes unreadable as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“What plan?”

“The plan to get Jake out of trouble,” you pressed, fists clenching at your sides. Bradley lifted his head, a look of indifference passing over his face as he looked away. You felt your jaw tick as you watched him.

“Oh, that,” he drawled, eyes still avoiding yours. He shrugged. “There is none.”

“I beg your pardon?” You bit out, rage overtaking you, and you felt Penny place a soothing hand on your back. “What do you mean you don’t have a plan?”

“I mean just what I said,” he snapped at you, eyes now focused on you with a mix of anger and guilt. “You think I have any favors to call in? Shit, Scout. Even Mav and Ice don’t have anymore favors to use on us. There’s no plan because there’s nothing to be done.”

“You owe him,” you ground out, words dissolving into a sob as you felt the tears race down your face once again. “You have to help him, please.”

“I don’t have any chips left to play, sweetheart,” he growled in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “Jake hangs tomorrow, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. I hope your time with him was good while it lasted because-”

A smack resounded in the room, followed by deafening silence save for your labored breathing as you fought to control your breathing. Your hand stung from where it had connected with Bradley’s cheek, and you could see his eyes had widened in shock. His head had snapped to the side from the force of your slap, and he slowly turned to look at you, and you could see unshed tears shining brightly in the low light of the room.

“He is not going to die,” you sobbed. Your breaths came out in hard pants as you stumbled forward, clinging on to Bradley’s shirt as you gazed up at him. “He can’t die. You have to help him, please.”

You felt a gentle touch slowly pull you away from the brunette, and you collapsed onto your knees before him, hands grabbing on to any part of him you could reach as you well and truly broke down.

“Please,” you begged once more to no one in particular. “Please, someone help him.”

[kpop---scenarios]

Teacher's Pet

This is part of the OT12 incubus collab! Other writers in the collab include: @ninibears-erigom​ @kwanisms​ @mint-yooxgi​ @k-pop-boy-scenarios​ @broccoli-channie-soup​ @chan-yolo​ @mylifeinhopeworld​ @biaswreckingfics​ @gamerwoo​ @baekwell--tart​

Warning: Unprotected sex, dream fucking. 

Word count: 2.5k 

A/N: I struggled alot with writing this..  please be kind lol 

"..and when you're writing this paper, please don't copy and paste from any sites. I will know what is and what isn't plagiarized" Suho says to his class before the classroom door is ripped open to reveal a heavy breathing..you. Although he sees you every night in your dreams and other times in person, he still loves to see you in person. You look even more beautiful in real life than you do in your dreams. As the two of you keep eye contact, he thinks about the first time he had met you, in the beginning of the summer. A few months ago he had been dragged out by his friends to a bar, O'Reilly's. He hadn't wanted to go out that night, but Baekhyun had a weird way of making him laugh enough until he got annoyed and just agreed to go out to get him to stop. Suho sat in the booth with his friends, sipping on his third drink of the night as his eyes roamed the large diverse group of people s lounging around the bar, and that's when he noticed you. You stood there looking extremely annoyed and unimpressed at whatever story the man who had cornered you was telling. He could read your lips with ease and chuckled when you told him for the fourth time that you were not interested. The man paid no mind to what you were saying, he was so wrapped up in his own story and laughing at his own lame jokes as you rolled your eyes. When he finally stopped talking, you tried to walk away from him, not wanting to be totally rude but he wouldn't let you go. His hand gripped your arm firmly as he pulled you back to stand in front of him. You looked pissed off as he tried to explain to you that just walking away was very rude. Suho slipped out of his seat, casually walking towards the bar, near where you and the man stood, overhearing your conversation a little better. "No what's rude is ignoring someone when they tell you their not interested." You snap, trying to walk away again. "So is walking away from someone again, when they're having a conversation with you" the man spits, yanking your arm to bring you back again. "Stop trying to fucking walk away from me." "Excuse me? I am not interested. Why can't you get that through your thick skull?" You snip before brushing past him, again. Suho couldn't understand the mind frame of this man, and why he continued to try to win you over when you so clearly wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. "Listen here you little bitch." The man snarls through gritted teeth, squeezing your arm. "I'm fucking tired of being polite and you brushing me off, thinking your better than me. What's a guy gotta do to get a little fucking action?" "Let go of me and take the fucking hint." You yell, attempting to yank your arm away from the man but his hold on you was far too tight. "Hah. You think you're so much better than me don't you?" He asks, staring at you with intense eyes. "I believe she told you she's not interested, and to let her go." You and the man hear a growl from behind you. "Back off, buddy." The man snaps, turning his head slightly and looking over his shoulder. "How about you back off, buddy" Suho snaps. "Are you hard of hearing? Let her go." The man's grip on you loosens quickly as he turns to face the man whose saved you. "And what are you going to do about it?"   "Are you sure you'd like to find out?" Suho asks, a sinister smile on his face as he eyes turn black in a flash before resuming to their regular colour. The man stares at Suho, his mouth gaping open before he stumbles away, tripping over his own feet in the process of trying to escape. All you could do was stand there, staring at the man who saved you from what you knew would have turned out to be an extremely terrible situation. You're at a loss for words for a second as you look him over thoroughly. He's older than you but not by a lot, extremely handsome, brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could melt anyone, including you. "You okay?" He asks. "I am now. Thank you." You respond, your eyes never leaving his face. "I don't know how I can thank you enough, that could have ended very badly. Can I buy you a drink?" You smile. "Sure." The man chuckles. "I'm Suho." He says introducing himself. "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Suho" you smile as you slide onto a bar stool. "What can I get you?" The bartender asks. The next few hours are spent telling stories and jokes while the two of you laugh over your drinks. Looking at the clock behind the bar, you let out a small gasp, not having realized how late it had actually gotten. "Shit. I'm sorry I have to go" you say, rushing off your chair and gathering your belongings. Before you leave, you pull out your phone and you see 23 missed calls and texts from your now angry boyfriend. Suho had hoped you were going to ask for his number so he could see you again, it would be much easier to find you that way. "My boyfriend is pissed." You groan as you call the bartender over so you can quickly pay for your drinks. "Boyfriend?" Suho asks, his eyebrow raised. All night you hadn't mentioned a single word about a boyfriend and now there suddenly was one. Although, that didn't really matter to Suho. Would you be the first girl he had met and became a little obsessed with who had a boyfriend? Yes. But did it make him even more excited? Absolutely. "Yes, boyfriend. His name is Mark." You smile. "Thanks for tonight. And saving me earlier. I really appreciate it." "No worries" Suho says forcing a smile. "Maybe I'll see you around." You say before turning to walk away. Suho quickly threw some money on the counter, paying for whatever before he grabbed his coat to follow you down the street. He smiled to himself as he watched you switch from walking to a small run and then back to walking again. Suho really hadn't planned on following anyone home tonight, until he had seen you earlier, and had partially gotten to know you. He liked you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he knew he would enjoy it even more as you slept. ** For the first few weeks all Suho did was watch you. He figured out your routine, your boyfriends routine, what you liked and disliked. It was honestly a little unnerved at himself. He had never taken this much time before coming into a dream and seducing his prey, which was something he really had always enjoyed. He was beyond excited to have found a new pet, but now he was aching for a release. You had been on his mind for far too long now and he was itching to take you. He wanted to hear your moans, listen to you cumming from his cock and hopefully, if all went well, have your boyfriend hear you cry out his name causing a much needed break up between you and him. Suho had never dreamt about the possibility of changing someone to be like him, entrap unsuspecting, vulnerable people with him but you would make the perfect partner for him. The two of you ruling together, and as much as he didnt want to mentally induce or manipulate you, ge would if you decided against being with him. He wanted you to choose to be with him, he wanted you to want it but he wasn't opposed to simply persuading you to doing what he wanted. That night, weeks after the two of you had met, Suho snuck into your room, standing on your side of your bed as you softly snored while your soon to be ex boyfriend's arm was draped across your stomach. Suho watched you for a few moments before kneeling at your bedside, tracing his fingers along the side of your face before leaning forward, and placing a small kiss against your temple, inhaling deeply, taking in your scent. He smiled as he watched you, focusing all his energy on you, and in a moment he disappears into your mind, turning your once happy dream to an extremely different direction. You look around, noticing you're in a bar, the same one you had had a few drinks in a few weeks ago, where the man, Suho had come to your rescue. You stood there, the entire place empty, not a soul in sight. "Hello?" You called out with no answer. Standing there for a few more seconds, you decide to leave, but before your hand could reach the door knob you hear a chuckle. Turning around you see the man from the bar, Suho behind the bar. "Taking off already?" He asks with a smirk on his face. "I thought no one was here" you say. "Can I get you a drink?" He asks. Nodding your head you walk over to the bar and pull out a stool. "Vodka and cranberry" you tell him. You watch him as he makes your drink, unable to take your eyes off of him. Suho finishes your drink, sliding it towards you. As you take a sip he emerges from behind the bar walking behind where you're seated. "Can I get you anything else?" He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hands reach up landing on your shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. "You seem very tense" he whispers. "I am" you admit, closing your eyes as Suho massaged your shoulders, slowly moving his hands down your arms. "You know, I can make you feel extremely relaxed" he moans, turning you around in the chair to face him. As you looked into his eyes, they turned black. "Do you want me to help you, baby?" He asks. You were unable to speak, only nod your head. He smiled as he leaned into you, placing his lips on yours, tilting your chin up with his finger tips. Suho kneels down, spreading your legs wide as you still sat on the stool. The skirt you're wearing rides up, exposing your already needy pussy. "Mhm, no panties?" He smirks pulling you forward a bit. Suho spreads your lips with his fingers before leaning his head forward, licking a long strip up your already wet pussy. You throw your head back with a gasp as your hands grip tightly onto the edge of the stool. "Delicious" Suho murmurs before diving back in, sucking on your clit. "Fuck" you gasp as he moves from sucking on your clit to flicking it with the tip of his tongue. As Suho continues to work, building your orgasm up, your hands grip the stool tighter with each lick and suck until you're almost at your peak. "I'm going to cum" you cry out. Suho abruptly stops, removing his head from between your legs. "First time you cum will be all over my cock" he growls, standing up to unzip his pants. He pulls down his faded jeans just enough to let his fully erect cock spring free. You gasp at the length and thickness of it, your mouth beginning to drool. Suho grabs your hand to take you off the stool and turns you around pressing your front against the bar. He spreads your legs and lubes himself up before lining himself up with your entrance. Without warning he thrusts himself into you fully, giving you no chance of adjusting to his size as he stretches you out completely. "Oh my god" you scream as he pulls out before harshly thrusting himself back inside of you. Soho's hands grip your hips tightly, digging his cold fingertips into your hips as he fucks you, hard. "Shit baby girl" he groans, continuing with his thrusts. "You're so tight" A cold chill courses through your body as his frigid hands hold you tighter. "You're mine now baby." You groans into your ear. "You do as I say, when I say." "Yes, yes, I'm all yours" you cry. "Who do you belong to?" He asks, continuing to fuck you. "You. I belong to you" you moan. "Good girl. Now play with your clit" he demands. You reach your hands in between your legs, rubbing the throbbing bud that needs release. Your orgasm doesn't take long to build up again, but it remains right on the brink of throwing you over the edge. "Do you need to cum, baby?" He moans into your ear. "Yes, please" you cry. "Cum" he demands. As the words left his mouth, your orgasm seizes through your body, causing your knees to buckle. Suho holds you up tightly as he rams his cock into you, eagerly chasing his own high. Within seconds his orgasm explodes through him, shuddering as he releases his extremely hot cum inside of you, coating your walls. The two of you are still for a moment as you both catch your breath. Before he pulls out of you he leans forward, whispering one more thing into your ear. "When you wake up, end your relationship with that boyfriend of yours" he says before pulling himself out of you and disappearing. Seconds later you wake up trying to catch your breath, your pussy sore and wet, and the sudden urge to end things with your boyfriend who is no longer next to you. "Morning babe" Mark says as he walks out of the bathroom. "Get out. I'm done." You snap, brushing past him to the bathroom. A few hours later you had finally convinced him you were being serious about breaking up with him, and he had finally packed his belongings and left. You felt satisfied and relieved, like this was how it was supposed to work out. As the summer came to an end and the first day of classes came, you had been feeling a little down. Almost like something had been missing from your life, until you ran into your class. You ripped open the door to the classroom and your eyes landed directly on Suho and you began to remember. You remembered your dreams involving him, being praised by him for doing as he tells you, his cock filling you up every night. He smiles at you, nodding his head towards the desks, telling you to sit down. You do as you're told, sitting directly in the front, eyes never leaving him as he finishes talking about the first paper due in his class. You know as long as you continue to do whatever he wants you to in and out of the classroom, he'll never stop fucking you or giving you the world, or fail you. Sometimes being teachers pet has it's perks.

[flowitch]

supernatural and lgbtqia+ characters

DISCLAIMER: i love these characters, which is why i watch the show. i do also have many issues with the show and the writers. this isn’t a hate post for the story or the characters, just the way the characters have been treated. do not read this if you are not caught up and do not want spoilers. this is also kinda a mess but i got very passionate about this and wrote it during classes

Dean Winchester

i’m gonna start with my boy dean!! dean is mine along with many other people’s favorite characters because of how complex he is. and one of the things that adds depth to his character is his “journey” with his sexuality.

there are many examples of dean very clearly not being straight, and he is officially headcanoned (and i guess canon now) as bisexual. you don’t even need to include dean and cas scenes for examples of his bisexuality. here is a video showing examples without any cas scenes:

https://youtu.be/rQSPmmuLJB0

now that we’ve established he is bisexual, let’s talk about the contradiction between the writing of his sexuality and character. the one i’m itching to talk about first is the confession scene in 10x16.

https://youtu.be/IqBHkwi13ic

in this scene, dean says, and i quote, if you don’t want to watch the video and don’t remember, “There's things, there's...people...feelings that I- I want to experience differently. Maybe even for the first time.” there honestly is no other way to interpret this. i’ve tried to put myself in the mind of the writers and the homophobes but i genuinely cannot interpret this another way. this is very clearly about his sexuality, being that there were no love interests at the time that this would apply to (not that this would even apply to a straight couple anyway). and not only does this confession scene occur, but sam even comments on how he was in there for a long time and he could always talk to him if he needs to!!!! they could have easily not had sam say anything about how long he spent in there, being that we as the viewers have no clue as to how long he was in there. they wrote that specifically to show that what he said in there had meaning and importance.

the writers and the crew of the show play into dean’s sexuality consistently with scenes, song of the days from the crew, etc., but then deny that destiel or dean’s bisexuality is real. i think a lot of this has to do with the fact that dean has always been considered as a “macho man” who shows very little emotion and has trouble with vulnerability. and that’s true! he absolutely is. but this show had 15 years to allow him to slowly work through his feelings and his issues with his own sexuality and self. the confession is a great example of the writers being almost there and then never speaking about it again.

even if you aren’t bisexual, you can see how much biphobia there is in the world. and as a bisexual woman i can say that bisexuality in men is so looked down upon it’s disturbing. men coming to terms with their bisexuality, especially if they are considered straight and “manly”, always makes me so happy since it’s not as accepted as female bisexuality. and this is another reason why supernatural exploring dean’s bisexuality would have been so incredible. seeing a man on television who has a lot of internal issues come to terms with something so complex and life changing would have been monumental to so many people. the writers had an infinite amount of ways to go about this because of things that THEY wrote, and instead chose to ignore his sexuality and have him not respond to castiel’s confession in 15x18. it’s very clear he was in shock in that episode so i’m not mad, but it is also clear that they wrote it that way to not fully make deancas canon.

dean winchester is bisexual, and the writers wrote him that way. nobody pulled this out of their ass, destiel didn’t become popular randomly and for no reason, they wrote him this way. this is their own writing that they have chosen to ignore and contradict for 15 seasons and it’s disappointing.

Castiel

this entire post is being written on november 6, 2020. one day after 15x18 aired. castiel is now canonically queer, and was already sent to someplace worse than hell. because he was happy. which directly connected to his love for dean. i honestly don’t even have to write cas’ section because that is enough, but i’ll write about his mistreatment anyway.

we knew the only thing that would make cas truly happy would be something with dean. well we assumed the writers would make up some other bullshit, but we hoped that it had something to do with dean. and sure enough, it was his love confession. and what i loved about this was cas starts it off by saying two beautiful things. one, that he knows he can never have what he really wants (dean), but he’s just as happy telling dean he loves him. he doesn’t need to have him to be happy with where they end their story, as long as dean knows. and the other thing he starts off by saying is that he knows how dean sees himself. he lists off all of these extremely kind things about dean and how dean is what made cas care about the world. he is the reason castiel went from an emotionless soldier to a fallen angel that feels deep love for people.

this confession scene although tainted by the fact that he died right after, which we’ll talk about, and the fact that it took this damn long, really means a lot to me. it was so incredible seeing cas be unapologetically open, honest, in love, and himself. he was for the first time since we’ve known him, completely and totally content. he told the man he loves how incredible he thinks he is and how he loves him, and knew he was saving him from billie by doing it. we’ve never seen him that happy. and it’s heartbreaking. 

misha summed it up perfectly i think: “Tonight, watching Cas talk to Dean, I got lost in the story and forgot for a moment that I’m the one who plays that angel and I thought, “He’s how I want to be. He’s openhearted and he’s selfless and he’s true.”

this was the first time we saw cas living his whole truth, and he immediately died. in terms of just bad taste, sending someone who just came out to angel hell is very disturbing, but it’s just further proof of the writers not caring about their lgbtqia+ characters. it’s like they gave us what we wanted, but there just had to be a catch, right? these writers very clearly do not care about their queer characters or fans, and what they did to cas here shows that plain as day.

obviously i really do want dean to save cas from the empty to parallel cas saving him from hell, but do i think it’ll happen in these last two episodes? no. first off i just don’t think misha filmed for the last two episodes, but also, the writers have made it clear that they do not care about cas in general, nevermind their now love story. it just does not sit right with me that he got sent to the empty for eternity because he was finally his whole self and happy.

Charlie Bradbury (our world + au)

we have seen charlie bradbury die twice, both times for no reason at all. the first time we saw her die, it was by the hands of a NAZI, and her body was THROWN INTO A BATHTUB. like i said before with cas, that was explanation enough i mean come ON. the second time we witnessed charlie die was in 15x18, (along with the whole world i know bare with me), which we did NOT need to see. 

let’s start with the fact that for all of these characters, supernatural creates and writes them wonderfully for the most part. we fall in love with these characters because of the way they were written, acted, and the dynamic with other characters. unfortunately in supernatural, if you are queer or a woman or god forbid both, that dynamic with other characters will be the death of you. 

i’m gonna talk about each other her deaths individually. so her first death. the only reason for her death was to further sam and dean’s (mostly dean’s) man pain. although i eat up the reactions of other characters when another dies, this just felt completely unnecessary to me. the writers wrote a fan-favorite character, and decided that the best course of action was to brutally murder her to further dean’s mark of cain storyline. and i loved that storyline! i loved the scene of dean getting revenge for charlie! but it did not need to happen. the only thing the fans wanted was for her to be alive and well, get more screentime and possibly have a girlfriend. 

when directly asked why they thought killing charlie was a good idea, jeremy carver said: 

“That’s an excellent question, and it, it’s tough just because...any time you have a favorite character on a show...People die on the show. And, and, and...and, unfortunately...So...there’s so many ways to answer that. And I feel, I, I...it’s tough for me to answer. She’s an absolutely beloved character, beloved on the show...And when we’re in the writer’s room...we have to go where the story takes us. And we try and do it without, um...(insert fans booing and the cast laughing at him)...this is the world day of my life. And I’d like to thank everyone up here for the support.” (they were not helping).

not only did he not have a clue on how to answer a question that should have an understandable answer, but then the best thing that he could come up with is “we have to go where the story takes us.” but why would that possibly be where the story takes you? if supernatural had more diversity than straight white males and possibly one woman that dies or is evil, then fine kill off whoever you want even if i don’t like it. but it becomes a gender and sexuality issue when she is not only the only recurring female character at the time, but also the only recurring lgbtqia+ character at the time (minus cas). 

now the second time she’s died. mind you this isn’t our world’s charlie. they brought her back for the fans and for the cast/crew that love her and felicia. we’ve established that she’s here living her life someplace. we haven’t heard anything about her for a hot minute, and then they decide to bring her back for 15x18. i was thrilled! i could not wait to see her, and was even more excited when she showed up on my television. and then, even better, we found out she has a girlfriend who she lives with and is clearly happy/comfortable with. and then what happens, may you ask? her girlfriend, stevie, a queer woman of color, vanishes. boom another unnecessary lgbtqia+ and woman death that could have been avoided if they just wrote in sam and dean calling her for help. 

later on in the episode, everyone on earth excluding dean, sam, and jack are gone- completely vanished where they stood. charlie of course is among those people. bare with me here, i know everyone vanished and it’s not the same as the first one. but here’s my issue with it: she did not have to come back. i would have rather had donna say “jodie, the girls, charlie, they’re ready to go when you need them”, and then they all vanish off screen. but instead they went through the trouble of bringing her back, showing her happy, having her experience a painful loss, and then disappear anyway. what was the point in having her in the episode?

like i mentioned earlier with dean being representation for bisexual men, charlie was just that for lesbians!! the amount of posts i’ve seen on multiple platforms talking about how much they resonated with charlie or how heartbroken they were no longer having representation on their favorite show is awful. there was a kickass nerdy, kind, strong, loving lesbian on your show not once but twice (au charlie), and you blew it. 

Claire + Kaia (Dreamhunter)

this part isn’t going to be long because there are some exceptions: wayward sisters failed spinoff (i’m still heartbroken i want it so bad), kathryn newton’s new status and inability to be in the show, etc.. so i guess this will just be a short thing about wayward sisters and what that could mean for claire and kaia. 

they had already established in supernatural that kaia was claire’s first love. we had gotten some really cute scenes with them, and then wayward sisters was finally a possibility. if the show had gone through, which i’m not sure why it didn’t, claire and kaia’s relationship could have been a goldmine. young girls could see themselves represented by characters already adored by supernatural fans. it would’ve shown a beautiful wlw relationship between two young girls who are also kickass and can keep up with their elders/male counterparts. 

i can’t pin this on the writers sadly (lmao), but i am still upset that we didn’t get wayward sisters. it would’ve meant a lot to women and to the lgbtqia+ community. 

My thoughts

like i said in the disclaimer, i love these characters and the story of supernatural. i always will. but i can’t lie about how frustrating it is seeing women, lgbts and people of color get constantly disregarded and mistreated. the writers had 15 years to get with the times, and the growth of society. stuff that i saw in season one and wasn’t surprised by should not still be happening in season 15. having writers that are all straight white males/women is not enough anymore. it never was. there has to be something for everyone in a show as big as this. it’s not about meeting diversity requirements, it’s about actually having diversity because it’s real. there are no diversity requirements for people in society. these are just people of different races, ethnicities, sexualities, genders, etc. who want to see someone like them represented on the things that they watch. it’s a lonely feeling not being validated by a show that you love.  

i might make another post specifically for the women mistreatment and queerbaiting on this show but that’s all for my essay on why supernatural sucks at not mistreating their queer characters :)

[nessafms]

new  york’s  very  own  NESSA  LOCKE  was  spotted  on  broadway  street  in  𝓳𝓲𝓶𝓶𝔂  𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸  𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪  𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻  𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓵  𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼  .  your  resemblance  to  kylie  jenner  is  unreal  .  according  to  tmz  ,  you  just  have  your  twenty  two  birthday  bash  .  while  living  in  nyc  ,  you’ve  been  labeled  as  being  finicky  ,  but  also  alluring  .  i  guess  being  a  scorpio  explains  that  .  3  things  that  would  paint  a  better  picture  of  you  would  be  expensive  diamonds  clinging  to  delicate  fingers  ,  makeup  swatches  on  tan  skin , &  wine  induced  giggles  .

GREETINGS  ,   cuties  .   i’m  gi  ,  9teen  ,  and  go  by  she  and  her  pronouns  .  i  kind  of  suck  at  introductions  ?  so  please  excuse  all  of  the  rambling  and  unnecessary  comments  that  are  throughout  this  .   nessa  is  kind  of  my  baby  ?  so  im  super  super  excited  to  bring  her  into  this  group  and  play  her  once  again  and  even  more  excited  to  write  with  all  of  you  !!!!!!   everything  you  need  to  know  about  her  is  under  the  cut  ,  and  if  you  want  to  plot  please  give  this  a  heart  and  we  can  do  so  (  or  message  me  on  discord  ,  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲#1776  )

*  basics 

FULL  NAME.  nessa  ryan  locke  .

NAME  MEANING.   pure  ,  holy  ;  butterfly  . 

REASONING.   it  was  suppose  to  be  vanessa  but  somehow  ended  up  being  just  nessa  by  the  time  she  was  actually  born  .

NICKNAMES.   ness  ,  nessy  .

PREFERRED  NAME.  ness  and/or  nessa  .

BIRTH  DATE.   november  third  ,  nineteen  ninety  eight  .

AGE.  twenty  two  .

ZODIAC.  scorpio  .

GENDER.  cis  female  .

PRONOUNS.  she  and  her  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION.  heterosexual  .

CURRENT  LOCATION.   moved  to  new  york  city  at  the  age  of  nineteen  ,  (  click  here  to  see  her  residence  ) .

PLACE  OF  BIRTH.  los  angeles   ,  california  .

HOMETOWN.   los  angeles  ,  california  .

FATHER.  jared  locke  ,  actor  .

MOTHER.   jillian  locke  ,  former  model  .

SIBLINGS.   nirvana  locke  ,  emerson  locke  .

BIRTH  ORDER.  youngest  .

PETS.  wolfie  ,  husky  .

HAIR  COLOR.   originally  a  black  color  ,  though  it  tends  to  go  from  black  to  a  light  brown  and/or  a  blonde  color  . 

EYE  COLOR.  brown  ,  but  she  takes  pride  in  the  small  specks  of  green  .

DOMINANT  HAND.  right  .

HEIGHT.  five  ft  six  .

TATTOOS.   nessa  has  five  tattoo’s  all  together  ,  the  first  one  being  something  that  resembles  the  fire  emoji  on  her  right  inner  hip  she  got  with  her  group  of  friends  .   she  has  a  rose  on  the  left  side  of  her  boob  ,  which  she  got  strictly  because  she  thought  it  was  pretty  .   she  has  two  butterflies  behind  her  left  ear  ,  a  smiley  face  on  her  right  upper  butt  cheek  ,  and  finally  the  words  ,  ‘  take  care  ‘  tattooed  on  her  right  arm .  

PIERCINGS.   she  has  five  holes  on  her  right  ear  and  seven  holes  on  her  left  ear  .  

DRUGS  /  ALCOHOL  /  SMOKING.  no  (  beside  smoking  weed  here  and  there )    ,  yes  ,  no  .  

SOUNDTRACK.   self  care  ,  mac  miller  .   angel  ,  the  weeknd  .  fetish  ,  selena  gomez  .  bitter  ,  fletcher  .  july  ,  noah  cyrus  .  bad  news  ,  kehlani  .   after  hours  ,  the  weeknd  .   needy  ,  ariana  grande  .   save  myself  ,  ed  sheeran .  p*$$y  fairy  ,  jhene  aiko  .  girls  in  the  hood  ,  megan  thee  stallion  .  

AESTHETICS.   emerald  hues  forming  into  a  distant  memory  ,   soft  laughter  in  the  dead  of  the  night  ,  luxurious  material  clinging  to  honeyed  skin  ,   tired  hues  ,   the  glow  of  neon  lights  lightening  up  a  dark  room  .  

LINKS.  here’s  her  pinterest  !! 

FUN  FACTS.   she  has  a  three  year  old  husky  ,  whom  she  treats  as  though  she  carried  him  around  for  nine  months  .  she  has  a  obsession  with  acrylic  nails  ,  you  will  always  find  her  with  something  different  every  two  weeks  .  she  always  has  her  toes  painted  ,  usually  baby  something          baby  pink  ,  baby  blue  .   she  enjoys  switching  up  her  look  which  includes  hair  changes  whether  it  be  sporting  a  wig  or  actually  dyeing  it  .  has  a  talent  of  painting  but  normally  doesn’t  have  the  time  or  inspiration  to  do  so  .  a  music  bug  ,  she  has  to  be  listening  to  tunes  if  she’s  cleaning  ,  cooking  ,  bathing  ...  hates  the  gym  more  then  anything  but  has  a  personal  trainer  (  she  spends  most  of  the  time  avoiding  )  to  kick  her  ass  in  shape  .  rarely  diets  and  with  this  she  has  a  bad  habit  of  eating  whatever  her  body  craves  .  she  loves  waffle  fries  ,  and  prefers  a  burger  over  a  chicken  sandwich  .   she  hates  neon  green  ,  don’t  fight  her  on  this  .  she’s  a  bit  of  a  car  junkie  and  constantly  purchases  them  despite  not  needing  to  .  her  worst  habit  is  online  shopping  ,  she  will  spend  thousand  of  dollars  at  ONE  store  .

*  background .

stranded at  the  age  of  five  ,  a  stuffed  elephant  in  hand  and  confusion  lingering  on  skin  .  only  small  glimpses  of  heart  felt  moments  to  ease  the  tears  .  one  moment  she  was  there  ,  and  the  next  she  somehow  slipped  through  the  cracks  .  not  even  the  power  of  hollywood  being  able  to  track  down  the  angelic  emerald  hued  model  .  instead  ,  her  father  had  to  wrap  his  arms  around  his  three  children  and  fabricate  a  story  that  would  not  shatter  their  delicate  hearts  .  but  the  damage  was  already  done  .

drenched  in  sovereignty  and  affluence  ,  the  privilege  of  being  privilege  had  always  been  a  reality  ,  even  before  the  disappearance  of  her  mother  .  a  celebrity  child  ,  grew  up  in  the  spotlight  and  had  ears  filled  with  comments  from  millions  who  did  not  know  her  .   not  a  sob  story  ,  unless  you  considered  her  mommy  issues  .  inherited  her  father’s  ambition  and  her  mom’s  trust  issues .  started  branding  herself  at  the  age  of  seventeen  ,  a  trend  setter  .  the  title  of  social  media  personality  was  granted  to  nessa  before  it  was  even  a  thing  ,  and  she  did  not  stop  there .   ventured  into  the  beauty  industry  ,  building  an  empire  from  top  to  bottom  .  and  eventually  even  created  a  fashion  line  with  her  older  sister  ,  even  after  all  the  red  warnings  .

but  the  finer  things  in  life  did  not  come  with  all  blessings  .   her  delicate  hands  drenched  in  cold  glue  ,  shattered  pieces  clinging  for  their  lives  with  expectations  of  being  put  back  together  again  .  adored  and  envied  by  the  world  ,  but  the  outside  looking  in  did  not  see  bent  back  constantly  picking  up  pieces  of  her  sisters  who  crumbled  with  even  the  softest  poke  .  addiction  controlling  every  aspect   of  her  sisters  lives  ,  and  the  relationship  she  shared  with  them  .  it’s  never  been  pretty  to  watch  the  ones  you  love  self  destruct  and  take  everything  you  love  and  trust  down  with  them  ..  hard  to  look  them  in  the  eyes  as  anger  and  heartache  consumes   you  .  and  even  harder  to  forgive  .  

forever  fighting  the  demons  her  mother  instored  in  her  ,  and  the  demons  her  sister’s  stir  up  .  her  only  breath  of  fresh  air  being  her  daddy  ,  and  the  way  he  always  has  her  back  (  no  favorites  are  played  but  we  all  know  )  ,  and  the  life  she  helped  build  for  herself  .  wants  to  be  rid  of  hands  that  hold  her  back  and  take  and  take  until  she  has  nothing  left  ,  and  instead  plunge  into  the  world  of  living  for  herself  and  new  york  city  granted  the  brunette  that  opportunity  .  

*  personality .

affection  sings  to  her  in  the  form  of  a  love  song  ,  her  love  language  .  digits  itch  to  hold  friends  hands  ,  and  lean  on  lovers  shoulders  .  uses  pet  names  like  her  vocabulary  only  consists  of  the  word  angel  and  baby  .  a  chatter  bug  that  hides  vulnerability  with  ebullience  and  teasing  manners  .  impulsiveness  that  jumps  out  at  all  the  wrong  times  ,  and  a  carelessness  that  teams  up  with  her  pettiness  to  make  all  the  wrong  choices  .  feels  replaceable  and  easily  disposable  ,  makes  her  fear  of  ever  letting  anyone  get  too  close  .  finicky  ,  hard  to  please  and  even  harder  to  totally  figure  out  ,  some  would  say  she’s  hot  and  cold  .  tries  to  stay  out  of  her  head  with  burying  herself  in  work  .  knows  how  it  feels  to  feel  like  you  are  nothing  ,  and  fills  that  whole  with  giving  back  as  much  as  she  can  .  silly  and  sometimes  ditzy  .  loves  too  hard  for  her  own  good  ,  and  has  a  bad  habit  of  letting  people  back  in  even  when  they  do  not  deserve  it  or  her  ..  has  a  softness that’s  desperate  to  escape  .   hates  love  because  she  understands  what  it  can  do  to  you  and  loves  just  as  much  for  the  same  reason  .  built  a  wall  around  her  heart  to  avoid  adding  any  more  scars  ,  and  will  save  you  before  she  saves  herself  .  holds  on  to  people  a  little  too  tight  ,  because  she  hates  going  through  the  process  of  letting  people  in  all  over  again  .  a  twenty  something  year  old  who  craves  a  mother’s  touch  but  holds  a  grudge  that  sometimes  causes  her  to  miss  out  on  people  .   always  just  wants  to  feel  like  she’s  worth  making  sacrifices  for  .

* career . 

kylie    cosmetics  ?  nessa  cosmetics  ,  a  brand  built  at  seventeen  years  old  and  has  only  grown  from  there  .   collections  that  consist  of  collabs  with  close  friends  and  family  (  when  she’s  talking  to  them  )  ,   and  season  /  holiday  collections  .  does  something  for  her  birthday  ,  november  third  ,  every  year  .  has  a  collection  dedicated  to  her  zodiac  sign  , scorpio  .   constantly  changing  her  formula  to  better  her  brand  ,  and  does  everything  hands  on  .  does  most  of  her  work  from  her  office  .   can  find  her  instagram  stories  to  be  her  swatching  her  latest  products  .  favorite  thing  of  hers  being  her  eye shadows   (  applaud  for  the  pigmented  ) .  good  quality  ,  inclusive  and  diverse  (  more  then  actual  kylie  cosmetics  )  is  the  most  important  thing  when  it  comes  to  her  brand  . 

launched  nessa  skin  a  single  year  ago  ,  and  has  worked  on  it  for  the  last  three  years  .  her  latest  child  ,  and  plans  to  only  grow  it  .  skin  has  always  been  super  important  to  nessa  ,  and  delivering  her  supporters  with  products  that  will  actually  work  is  her  main  priority  .  

a  youtube  channel  with  ten  million  subscribers  ,  youtuber  as  a  second  job .  it  starting  as  a  hobby  and  a  way  of  connecting  with  supporters  to  becoming  something  she  cannot  imagine  not  doing  .   her  channel  consists  of  mixed  content  such  from  fashion  hauls  to  makeup  videos  to  even  vlogs  that  involved  her  friends  (  and  family  )  doing  stupid  things  .  

em  &  ness  ,  a  clothing  brand  her  and  her  sister  are  developing  .   features  trendy  street  wear  ,  more  to  come  soon  . 

* connections

the  childhood  friend  that  reminds  her  of  simpler  times  ,   mud  pies  in  the  back  yard  and  riding  their  bikes  around  the  neighborhood  .  secrets  and  promises  of  being  friends  forever  that  felt  secure  but  feel  short  .  bonded  forever  maybe  ,  but  constantly  feeling  like  strangers  .   (  or   they  could  still  be  close  friends  )

the  family  friend  that  their  parent(s)  swore  were  going  to  end  up  together  ,  though  if  the  two  caught  any  talk  of  that  would  scrunch  their  nose  ups  and  shake  their  head  .  or  at  least  they  did  for  a  while  ,  until  lines  started  to  fade  and  the  comfortableness  felt  like  something  more  ..  not  together  now  ,  but  constantly  a  what  if  ,  the  idea  still  runs  in  their  minds  but  is  a  friendship  worth  something  that  might  not  work  out 

a  friendship  or  more  so  platonic  soulmates  ,  if  you  see  one  you  know  the  other  is  not  far  behind  .  they  are  somewhat  extensions  of  one  another  ,  swear  they  cannot  survive  without  one  another  .  the  one  person  nessa  trusts  the  most  ,  someone  who  has  never  hurt  her  or  left  her  .  her  person  .

the  bad  influence  that  plays  on  her  impulsiveness  .  talks  her  head  up  to  get  even  or  take  that  tenth  shot  because  why  the  fuck  not  .  anytime  something  bad  almost  happened  ,  like  that  time  we  almost  got  a  fine  ,  she  was  with  this  person  .  and  while  she  adores  them  ,  she  knows  they  aren’t  exactly  the  best  for  her  .

the  friend  group  you  cannot  help  but  envy  ,  constantly  plastered  on  one  anothers  instragram  feeds  .  has  their  own  groupchat  that  does  nothing  but  blow  up  .  shopping  trips  in  italy  and  vacations  in  greece  .  do  not  always  get  along  but  there  is  always  love  in  between  them  .  they  are  constantly  in  her  vlogs  ,  and  would  kind  of  be  like  her  very  own  vlog  squad  .

the  friends  with  benefits  who  swear  they  are  just  friends  ,  and  the  sex  means  nothing  .  despite  the  fact  that  they  linger  a  little  too  long  in  one  another’s  bed    .  and  the  promises  of  this  will  not  ruin  anything  become  blurry  when  they  connect  on  a  deeper  level  .  and    it  gets  confusing  when  their  affectionate  comes  to  surface  ,  but  regardless  they  are  just  friends  .

a  trio  of  three  friends  who  are  always  seen  together  ,  best  friends  could  be  the  world  to  use  to  describe  them  (  bonus  points  if  its  all  girls  )  .

the heart  breaker  ,  the  person  that  fucked  her  up  for  good  .  ruined  the  way  she  loved  and  left  her  with  a  lot  of  regret  and  heart  ache  .  she  swear  she  hates  them  ,  but  she  hates  how  much  she  loved  them  and  how  close  they  got  to  her  .  hates  how  they  went  from  knowing  her  more  then  anyone  to  being  someone  she  cannot  even  look  in  the  eyes  anymore  (  bonus  points  if  it  involves  them  cheating  on  her  ,  extra  bonus  points  if  it’s  angsty  as  hell  )  

the  drinking  buddy  she  confides  in   ,  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  lot  of  shit  talking  that   always  end  up  in  talking  about  personal  matters  .  they  are  a  ear  and  someone  to  lean  on  .

the  on  and  off  fling  ,  their  back  and  forth  being  nessa  and  her  refusal  to  let  them  in  completely  .  her  feelings  for  them  scare  her  ,  and  she’s  not  ready  to  walk  down  the  road  of  being  with  someone  again  .

other  things  i  want  include  ;  unlikely  friends  ,  enemies  to  friends  ,  friends  to  enemies  ,  lovers  to  friends  ,  friends  to  lover  ,  ex  best  friend  ,  ex  friends  in  general  ,  ex  friends  who  miss  each  other  terribly  ,  other  youtubers  she  collabs  with  ,  other  ceo’s  of  makeup  brands  /  skin  brands  she  has  a  rivalry  with  because  the  media  made  it  seem  like  they  hated  one  another  .

[goodnightallwhites]

Paying Pilots by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - America, America... Asuka kept glancing out the window and shifting in the car seat. That damn Misato. Why is she taking so long? Outside, Americans were walking the sunburned streets, going about their day. No doubt EVAs, NERV, and sync tests were the last thing on their minds. And here she was, one of the few people in the world capable of handling the damned things, important enough to be brought in special to test the American units, only to be left waiting with blank-staring Rei who sat in the backseat saying nothing. All Asuka wanted was to sleep after the long flight. People came and went through the reflective doors of the hotel, none being Misato. The whole place smacked of pure decadence - just an obsidian pillar rising high into the sky, like a black middle finger flipping off the whole world. Asuka brought her feet up against the dash and knocked at the window in exasperation, hoping to summon Misato with sheer willpower. Come on, come on... At lengh, Misato came rushing out of the hotel, her hair stirring in the light breeze, her huge breasts bouncing with every step that she took. All the men either glanced or stared, but if Misato noticed it she would only smile with feigned embarrassment. What a whore, judged Asuka. Why does she always have to show off? Her hands instinctively groped at her own chest, feeling up the doughy breasts that had developed in the last few months. Mine aren't nearly that vulgar and unflattering. Misato playfully tapped her foot againt the car. "Come on, girls! Time to go!" Rei got out with Asuka, jumping when the latter slammed the door in annoyance. Her gaze remained focused on the diverse looks of the passersby. So many types of people, so many lives unfolding... They grabbed their bags from the trunk and went up the stairs that led to the entrance. Inside, Rei stared curiously at the high ceiling. The whole place resembled a mausoleum, cool and dark, with a marmoreal surface running down the floor and up the walls to the ceiling.   Misato ran up to talk to the people behind the desk while they waited by the elevator. The employees checked them out, giving Rei a long look. Asuka glared at her. "I told you not to wear your school uniform, you stupid idiot." What else would I wear? Rei wondered, uncomprehending. Misato came back and used a keycard on the elevator, then hit the button for the penthouse suites."It's wonderful here, girls, you'll see... We're privileged to stay in a place like this." Asuka made a face. "I'd rather we go out."   "Soon, soon... Maybe tomorrow. I'll" - she smiled - "try to get some funds together for us by then." Asuka clicked her tongue and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, a deep frown on her face. "Tomorrow," she mumbled. "How can we have money to stay here but no money to go visiting?" Misato gave a shrewd smirk. "Because NERV covers the hotel bill. Unfortunately, they don't pay for booze." One apartment was assigned to Rei and Asuka, while the other went to Misato. Each had a luxurious living room that connected to a bathroom and a kitchen, with windows running the whole length of the walls. There was, however, a shared bed. "What the hell is this!" cried Asuka."All this luxury, to share a bed? Seriously?" Misato patted them on the head. "You two be good. I have some business to attend to. When I'm back, maybe we can go out together." Once she departed, Rei found herself staring at Asuka's grumpy face. "What the hell are you looking at?" snapped the ginger. She dropped the heavy bags to the floor and crashed inelegantly on the bed, falling asleep within the minute. Rei got on the other side of the bed, leaving as much space between them as possible. She, too, fell asleep. Darkness. An unfamiliar ceiling. Rei awoke to find Asuka gone, the place where she had slept now cold. The cityscape's sea of lights stretched below as far as her eyes could see, far beyond the horizon. She got up and wandered in search of Asuka, only to find the bathroom door a centimeter or so ajar, the bright light flooding into the living room. Rei padded over. Asuka stood in front of the mirror with one leng propped over the sink, inspecting herself over her shoulder. Her hand kept going down, testing the firmness of her bubbly butt. She stared at it, squeezing and kneading it between her fingers, pulling it up to check for stretch marks, then slapped and tested its wobbling potential. "What are you doing?" . Asuka whirled, twisting her leg in the process, and nearly crashed to the floor. She tottered towards the wall and pressed against it with her back, as if threatened, her blooming-red face seething with rage. "You idiot! You stupid idiot!" "Are you ill?" Asuka went and shoved her away, then shut the door. That little freak! As if this trip wasn't bad enough - as if she needed the added embarrassment of being caught by some bakayarou.   She smoothed her tank top and relaxed. With a deep breath, she headed back out. Rei stood right where she had left her. What the hell is wrong with her? "The city," said Rei, pointing to the world beyond the window. "Yeah, I see it." Asuka crossed her arms and moved her head from side to side in restless annoyance. "I want to go too. I'm bored out of my goddamn mind!" She sniffed indignantly and threw her head back. "You know what, let's just go. Get dressed." The outfit for the night would be a pair jean shorts that showed her lower ass, a tank top worn without a bra that hugged her breasts, and a pair of shiny stiletto heels that she could barely walk in. Only when she had finished applying makeup and lipstick did she look over to see Rei still dressed in her loose uniform. "I can give you something of mine to wear," she offered. Rei stared at her said nothing. 467. Definitely the right number. Asuka stood before the door and knocked. "Misato-san!" No reply. "Hey! Open up!" The insistent knocking drew the attention of a maid going by, but she said nothing. "I'm not going anywhere until you come out here!" The door opened, but what appeared was no Misato. It was a towering guy with dark skin, holding a towel around his waist and looking them down contemptuously. Long dreads wound down his bulky shoulders. Much of his chest had been tattooed with intricate patterns that writhed in the low light. Who... Asuka swallowed, somewhat surprised. But this was the right apartment. And she wouldn't let anyone intimidate her, not even if he stood two heads taller and weighed three times as much as her. He could probably kill me with a single blow, she realized. And yet, the very next moment, she yelled into his face: "If you don't get Misato here, I'll break this door down!" So much for opting for safety. He sniffed in disgust and began to push the door back, when Asuka rushed in and blocked the gap with her body. "Misato! Now!" Would he hit her? He said nothing. He simply walked off and left the door open for them. Asuka grabbed Rei by the arm and dragged her into the empty living room. A series of low cries echoed through the apartment. Asuka gave Rei a questioning look. Of course she has nothing to contribute. Was Misato hurt? Was this guy bad? But how could he have gotten in here? Heart drumming in her chest, Asuka towed Rei with her and ran after the guy. You don't scare me! They followed him through the doorway into an unlit bedroom filled by the stench of alcohol. The two walls that made up the far corner of the wall were made of glass and through them flooded the lights of distant signs and skylights. A gigantic bed crouched in that corner, surrounded by bottles, some of which rolled empty. Misato lay facedown on the bed, dressed only in some black lingerie, groaning in pain. For a split-second Asuka thought she might be in dire condition. But when two coal-black hands came up to squeeze her ass and drive it down harder on his cock, things became clearer. When the hands went down again, Asuka caught the writing in English on Misato's asscheeks: BLACK OWNED. And following that written in smaller letters: FACEFUCK $25, PUSSYFUCK $50, ASSFUCK $100. All three were marked several times over. M-M-Misato-san?... "They're here for you," the first guy, then whipped her ass to attention. Misato lifted her face to look at them. Runny makeup ran down her face, creating a black web of dried tears that reached all the way down to her glossy lips and smudged lipstick. Only now did Asuka notice that her large breasts were getting sucked on greedily by the guy below her. "Girls..." The guy that had led them into the room got behind her and let go of his towel. It unfurled from the back, taking a few seconds to run down his cock and theatrically unveil its length. A black cock as big as a horse's hung between his muscular thighs, strings of cum dripping from the engorged head. Asuka stared at it dumbfounded. W-What... A colossal pair of balls sagged and swayed beneath the shaft, dripping wet. The whole thing brought back the memory of Shinji flashing her by accident when his towel dropped. Back then, she had felt both grossed out and a little excited to see a boy's cock for real - never mind the teasing she gave Shinji for letting it happen, calling him "limp" and "too small" and whatever else she could think of to humiliate him. In truth, she had no real standard by which to compare it, she only wanted to drive him crazy. Compared to this, though, it barely reached a quarter in size. Were Asian dicks really that small, as people said? Or were these guys modified? How could they be so... so fucking big? A tingle spread from her pussy up to her stomach, making her itch and shiver all over. "I..." Misato started, but right at that moment the guy pushed his cock in all the way to the balls, slapping them against her vulnerable Asian pussy. "God..." The captain shuddered in despair her anal partner took it out only to thrust it in even harder than before. Asuka could only imagine the level of agony. Out of all the toys she kept at home, not even the smallest could fit her tight white asshole. Even the slender vibrator half the size of her pinky killed her when she tried to shove it inside... That must've been unbearable. Looking at them, Misato tried to smile through it. "Girls, what's wrong?" Asuka needed to remember how to speak herself. "We wanted some money to go out..." Misato whimpered like a puppy as the black cock splintered her asshole without care and sent electrifying bolts through her body. The guy below rushed his in and out of her pussy as fast as he could, readying to come.   "Just let me finish with these nice gentlemen, and then I'll have some money to give you... Just sit down, we'll be done soon." "But..." "Sit your ass down!" barked the guy on top of her. Asuka stepped back, her spine coming apart with terror. She glanced at the door, thinking of making a run for it. This wasn't Misato, not by any means. Drunk or not, cash-strapped or not, surely Misato wouldn't do - her eyes flickered to the fragile Asian body sandwiched tightly between the black ones - this for cash. She tugged on Rei's arm. "Let's go! Come on!" But Rei did not even turn her gaze around. She only stared at the spectacle in front of them, so taken in by it that she seemed unable to react with anything but unabashed fascination. Asuka spotted a small armchair behind them. She made Rei sit down, then took her place beside her, their two young and slender frames still leaving enough room between them for a third person. As much as she tried, she simply couldn't look away. It was so shameful an embarrassing. She might've used toys on herself and watched porn at home, but she did that alone. How could she just... watch them do it? The guy put his entire weight into his arms, using every single working muscle of his ripped body to assfuck his way into Misato and stretch her asshole bloody. Sweat glistened and flew off of his back, while his dread's got grabbed onto by a weeping Asian girl begging for mercy for her sensitive ass that in no way resembled Captain Katsuragi. This was only was only a fertile black cock slut that got what she deserved. Breeding by two strong bulls. And no mercy. They both increased the speed of their thrusts, the double penetration getting Misato from every angle and causing her entire body to twist and turn for a way out as she shrieked in indescribable pain. The two only pressed and squeezed her between them, groaning and laughing as they began to dump their seed into her ready womb and broken body. Asuka pushed her thighs together nervously, trying to fight the irresistible urge to touch herself. She lowered her purse between her thighs and squeezed it hard, letting the corner rub against the lips of her pussy, tingles spreading throughout her body all the way up to her hardened nipples. They, too, begged to be touched. A final low, drawled-out moan left Misato's lips as they pulled out, her toes curling as the biggest orgasm of her life kept ripping through her asshole and pussy. Her raw pussy and gaping asshole leaked with their thick seed. The guy with dreads stepped away and wiped the sweat from his face with the towel. The other rolled Misato over and got out, grimly excited at her current state and how far they had managed to humiliate her. Misato rolled back onto her chest, now panting and smiling like a mental patient, looking at Asuka without seeing a thing, giggling as the after-effects of the breeding continued how have an effect on her unprepared body. The towel guy stepped up to Rei. "You there." Rei found his eyes. He pointed down to his dripping cock. "Clean this up. Get on those fucking knees, and clean my cock up with that little Japanese mouth." Are you stupid? Asuka wanted to shout at him. She can't understand you! Not only that, but she wouldn't do it. How could he ask her to do something so disgusting?   Rei dropped to the floor and folded her legs under her bottom, then brought her mouth to his hanging cock. She rolled her tongue over the surface without knowing of what she was doing or how to do it.   "That's a good girl. Does your friend asshole taste good?" "Yes," answered Rei, without a hint of emotion. He cackled grimly. "I bet it is." Asuka gaped at her vile display, unable to believe it. She's licking Misato's ass juices off his cock. With me right here. Then the second thought came: Why did he choose her over me? But as much as it offended her, the intensity of her cravings only grew, and she wondered what it would be like just to touch it. It really is so big... Not a single toy of the tens at home compared to that. Not even close... He slapped Rei playfully with his cock as she struggled to clean it. "Are you a virgin? Have you ever had sex?" Asuka answered for her: "Of course she hasn't!" The guy suddenly reached down and grabbed Rei by the hair, then pulled her over to the bed. "Time you and I have a little lesson." ... while the other guy strolled happily towards Asuka, cock whipping back and forth with his steps. This was one was lanky where the other was beefy, with the long and sinewy limbs that made his already knee-down cock look that much bigger. Skin so dark that all she could see was his pearly smile. "Well, who might you be, darling girl?" He came to stand in front of her, the ebon shaft of his manhood only inches away from her face. Unlike the other, this one was uncircumcised, the head tapering down to a small point of foreskin. It still throbbed powerfully, enlarged veins struggling to keep it running. Cum dripped steadily from the tip, now directly onto Asuka's bare legs. She avoided looking into his eyes... but that only led her to stare at his cock. It's so fucking big, she thought breathlessly. At home, she had once tried to fuck herself with a dildo perhaps only a third of its size, and even that had been a painful experience. Asuka flinched as his fingers touched her skin, gently caressing her smooth cheek. "You looking real pretty, you know that?" His eyes went down to her breasts and the way they shot through the tank top. Chills. She lowered her eyes, feeling watched and vulnerable. Why did I have to dress this way... His dark fingers went through her hair, running down the ginger strands with sexual exhiliration. "You're so young and beautiful. I've always wanted to be with a redhead like you..." No! resounded the determination in her head. No, no, no, no, no! But even as she rationalized how terrible it was to get touched by this stranger, by this random guy that had just creampied Misato, she couldn't quiet her body down. Her mind might not have wanted this, but her pussy seemed to ache for it. Not that she would tell him such a thing. "Stand up," he ordered. "To hell with that!" "I told you to stand up. Do you want me to make you?" At length, she decided it would be best to stand up and get it over with. But that was it. That was the end of the orders she would take from this uncouth insect. Propped up on her heels, their eyes almost met at the same level. She could sense the intent in his dark gaze... "Take off your clothes." "What?" barked Asuka. "You must be joking." "You can take them off, or I can take them off for you." She crossed her arms. "You can try." Before she react, he reached down and ripped apart her shorts, popping the buttons with a pull and that sent them flying across the floor... So strong, she thought, feeling a little woozy. The shorts fell to the ground, leaving Asuka exposed in her undersized cotton panties. They were patterned with strawberries. But they were already moist around the outline of her pussy. Asuka looked to the bed for help, but Misato could barely be counted as conscious. Rei was on her knees looking up at the other guy with his cock in her small hand, seemingly captivated with being a subservient slut. "Take your top off," the guy ordered Asuka. Asuka swallowed. He could do whatever he wanted with her, but she would never break before him. You'll have to kill me. "Never, asshole," she dared to say. The guy nodded sagely. Then smacked the side of her with one savage blow. Her face burned. Her ear rang. Her gaze swam. He grabbed onto her tank top and tore it off with one motion, throwing the rags to the floor. "I told you to listen. Stupid white girl." Asuka stood before him, trying to suppress the tears that came, trembling as he reached up to touch her pale skin. "Awww, don't cry," he said, bringing his large hands up to cup her cheeks. The black palms slithered down, stopping for a moment over her long and frail neck, then coming down to her full breasts. Asuka could feel his rough fingers kneading the flesh of her breasts, pinching and tugging at the bullet-hard nipples. Stop... The harder he handled them, the stronger the waves of arousal came - goosebumps spreading over her weakening body. "Does that feel good?" "No, you b-baka... To hell with you!" she forced herself to say. He took her hand brought it down to his swollen cock. The tips of her fingers went over the wet skin, sensing the power the power that came with it, instinctively wanting to grab and pleasure such a beautiful big dick. "Is that nice?" "D-D-Disgusting," she stammered. "It's so big and gross. And so dark." He grinned. "You got something against dark?" "It's ugly," she insisted. He took a handful of her ginger locks and yanked her head down. A moment later he spit in her face. "You sure like that, don't you?" He dragged her off before she could respond, Asuka tottering perilously in her heels on the way to the bed. Just who did he think he was to treat her like... like this?... You asshole! He pushed her on the mattress. Within arm's reach she could see Misato, whose eyes had closed and seemed to be passed out. The stench of alcohol that came from her breath was enough to make Asuka want to throw up. You drunken whore! This is your fault! He pushed her face down against the bed, raising her ass and spreading her legs. One of his fingers brushed over her pussy, passing through the ginger fuzz spread around them. Asuka let out a soft moan. She cursed herself, hoping he hadn't heard it. She hated his guts for this treatment and wanted to ward off his attacks, but the rest of her wouldn't listen. His touch only made her weaker and wetter, spamming her with wave after wave of pleasure and bringing about a mad desire to feel his cock again... "What do you think, should I fuck you?" Asuka tittered, though she did not sound confident. "You can try, asshole. A little cock like yours is never going to satisfy me." "Oh. You've been with bigger guys, have you?" She forced the facade further. "Bigger than you can ever imagine. But I guess I can do you the favor and think of them to help you out..." His black fingers tore her panties apart. Only her heels were left now. Her soft and fertile white pussy dripped, all wet and ready for his hard cock, glimmering beads of her juices mingling through the ginger hairs. An exhilarating shudder went through her when the tip of his cock touched her lips. But instead of pushing it in, he simply left it there, making her all that much more desperate... Does he want me to beg? I won't, I.... She was an EVA pilot. Quite literally one of the most gifted individuals to have ever existed, one whose very existence humanity depended upon. And she was supposed to beg for... for... for a black cock?  "Too scared to put it inside?" she muttered. "Hmmm," he said. Then he grabbed onto her ass, and with an expert thrust, pushed it deep inside. Asuka shrieked. Rei knelt before the dark-skinned man, trying to understand this this new predicament. She kept licking and sucking on the thing between his legs, but he seemed displeased. Every so often as he drank from the bottle he would drip some down over his cock and into his mouth. Rei had never tasted alcohol before, but though its strident taste and odor burned, she could feel herself relaxing... He put a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to him. "You need to take it deeper, do you understand? You can't just keep sucking on the head. You need to clean it all up. Do you understand?" She grabbed the shaft between her hands and held it, while her lips wrapped around the tip. The head went snugly into her mouth. Rather than force it down, she waited for the ticklish sensation at the back of her throat and the ceiling of her mouth to diminish, then went on pushing it deeper with precision. When she was about a quarter of the way down, she looked up to seek his approval. He took another swig of the bottle and fluffed her hair. "That's my girl." But the movement made the thing jerk inside her mouth and nearly activated her gag reflex. "Ah, my bad, my bad... You just do your thing. See, can you take it all the way to the base?" He tapped his finger to the scraggly bush of dark hair from where the shaft originated. I will try, decided Rei resolutely. She was not quite sure what this was all about. At home, she had received training and instructions in so many things, but never in this. Why? Strangest of all was the itching sensation that originated from between her legs and went all over her body. The only other thing comparable was when Shinji had asked her to wait for him on a bench, only for her to sit down patiently even as a host of ants began to make her way under her uniform and crawl all over her skin. But this was different. To that she had remained indifferent, while Shinji screamed as soon as he saw it happening. But now she discovered that she could not simply do as ordered and nothing else. An intense desire made its way to the front of her consciousness, an itching need to rub between her legs. Rei did so, but rather than feel release, it only worsened. Why? There was no incident in her memory that could account for this or allow for an inductive explanation. Yet the more her fingers rubbed at it to make it stop, the stronger it became, till she could not cease at all. Meanwhile, her heart drummed, and Rei realized that her whole body was entering some sort of overheated and unstable state, making her worry. She went on pushing the thick shaft down her throat, tilting and angling her head in such away to do it without any sort of malfunction. But the deeper she took it, the tighter her throat got. And now the thing itself seemed to throb harder than ever, its veins tickling the walls of her interior. "That's right, keep going..." he ordered. "You're doing great." Rei slowly brought it down till she reached the base, her face buried into the musky-smelling hairs that scratched at her face and entered her nostrils. She struggled to hold it down, till she finally heard him say, "Release." Rei came up breathlessly. Looking at his cock now, as it had swollen to a size even larger than before, she could not understand how she managed it at all, or where it could fit inside her tight Asian throat. She even choked on food at home sometimes. Yet, she could do this. An odd sense of pride came over her. "Now lick my cock again. I think there's still some juices left from your whore friend. You tell me when it stops tasting like her." Rei wasn't sure what part of it tasted of Misato, but she did as ordered. To her, it all tasted good. Though it had come out of Misato's anal hole, it tasted surprisingly wholesome and satisfying. "You like suckind black cock, don't you?" "I don't know..." "Yeah, you do. Say it. Tell me you love me to suck black cock." "I love to suck black cock," repeated Rei expressionlessly. He laughed. "Tell me you would never suck off an Asian or white dick. That they're small and pathetic." "I'd never suck off an Asian or white dick. They're small and pathetic." "Tell me you want to get black bred." Rei whispered as she sucked on the tip of his cock, cum bubbles frothing around her lips. "I want to get black bred." "Beg me to put a black baby in your Asian womb." "Please put a black baby in my Asian womb." Rei had no idea what exactly he meant by all this, but it repeating what she was told seemed like the right call. She went on treating his cock with care, stroking it up and down with her small hands. The contrast between their skins was striking and fascinating, almost otherworldly. She put a hand over his tattooed chest as she licked his shaft, watching the way it outlined her pale fingers perfectly. She could feel the muscles working under his dark skin. And yet again, the need to touch herself grew stronger still. He grabbed her hair and held her. "You gotta be a good girl now. I need to fuck your throat, and you have to take it all. You understand? Don't you dare choke or gag." Rei swallowed his cock, this time upping the speed as it went deep down her throat. But her muscles had learned from the previous exercise, and now from the second, and soon she began to take it in and out without much issue, keeping herself relaxed while he guided her head up and down. She could feel his member pulsing harder and harder against her throat, till his hands stopped moving her head altogether. Instead, he held her down as he lifted himself up, fucking her throat fast and hard from below. Every time, as soon as she felt close to choking and gagging it went out, only to come back inside even faster and harder, eager to ruin her throat and keep her guessing. Her open mouth and lolling tongue unleashed a steady stream of warm drool that oozed down his godly shaft. Then he rose and began to stroke his cock, ordering her to massage his balls, while he aimed the head over her head. A rope of thick cum shot into her mouth, followed by another, then another, and another, filling it all up. "Don't you swallow," he said between groans. At last, he milked the final drops right into the pool of cum her tongue swam in, and gave her another order.... Asuka did her utmost not to react from the pounding she received. The guy had simply stabbed into her unexpectedly, and ever since continued to pummel her white pussy hard, eviscerating her insides. The hot, wet insides of her pussy felt numb and tingly, while a soft warmth spread through her body all the way up to her desperate nipples... She could feel her resolve weakening. Her mouth kept opening on its own, looking to moan, while her eyes rolled back each time he went inside. It hurt, but she loved it. Of course, she couldn't say that... She wouldn't give this absolute nobody the satisfaction of making her feel a thing like this... I'm an EVA pilot... One of the few in the world... But the more he pushed her, the harder it became to control herself. Sooner or later a moan escaped her mouth, and once it did, the others flooded out, her self-control no longer able to combat the black cock that took control of her senses. Her heel flew off her foot as her whole leg quivered from the hard fucking, hitting the window and clattering down to the floor. "You like that, don't you? You fucking ginger slut. You love that big black cock filling up your white pussy." She panted in a daze of pleasure. Yes, I love it... Her head rested on the bed and her hands squeezed the sheets hard. He yanked her up by the hair and tilted her head so far back that he made eye contact with him upside down. Yes! Give me that big black cock! Fuck my ginger pussy me! Like a bitch in heat, she moaned wildly, giving him syrupy eyes, unable to restrain herself. But even as her body trembled from the wracking effect of that big black cock going through her, she still found enough focus to whisper, "I'll kill you for this." But first fuck me, oh, please, fuck me... Rei appeared into view out of nowhere. The front of her uniform was wet, her hair all over the place. How embarrassing... To be seen like this by such a damned baka. "Don't you look at me..." Rei took a step closer, her face drawing near. Asuka, in the throes of pleasure, did nothing to avert her face nor to close her mouth as Rei leaned in and kissed her. WHAT!!! She tried to fight her off but it didn't work. Rei used an unexpected amount of physical force to hold her in place and keep the kiss going. She could feel Rei's tongue bumping against hers, and with it... something salty and gooey, passing from one mouth into the other, slowly trickling down Asuka's throat as they kissed. Cum, it's cum!! She felt so angry and humiliated that tears came to her eyes, but there was nothing she could do. She used her remaining force to punch Rei in the side of the head, but that did nothing. Rei only went on facefucking her, raping her with her tongue, while both the guys could be heard laughing, one egging the other on to fuck Asuka that much harder and make her scream. My first kiss... The taste of black cum lingered in her mouth as she surrendered to Rei probing tentacle-tongue. The guy squeezed his hold on her asscheeks, and began to piston her pussy while the other guy bent down and tickled her feet, further adding to the insane amount of feeling her body was asked to endure. A scorching heat emanated from her lower body, swallowing her up... But just as she prepared to let go and come, the guy pulled and released her, while Rei stepped back. They left her there, desperate and close to exploding, her insides thoroughly melted, her pussy and legs glistening with ropes of his cum. She could see more of it oozing out of her pussy, and that the guy's cock still dripped, not yet done... She reached down, trying to make herself come in haste... ... but it was no use. She needed his big black cock. "You!" she screamed. "I told you you couldn't do it! I told you! You can't make me come!" He shrugged. "I don't care." Asuka got up, hopping about in her one heel, rushing towards him. "You finish what you started! Right now!" She pushed him. "Look at her!" the other guy yelled. "Feisty little thing." "Beg me and I'll do it." "W-What?!" stammered Asuka. "Beg you? In your dreams, asshole!" But even as she put on the brave pose, every part of her body ached for it. She needed it, more than anything. Just looking at his cock made her legs open up instinctively for him. So big. So black. So beautiful. I need it inside of me... At last, realizing there was no other way... Asuka lowered her head. "Please," she whispered, a deep frown scarring the overbearingly proud face. Being this pathetic put her in physical pain. Just how much of a degenerate had she become to do this... At least no one will know... "What was that?" "Please..." "Please what?" "Please fuck me with your big black cock... Please..." "You're sure that's what you want?" "Yes..." He put her on the bed again on all fours. As she waited for him to go inside, Asuka watched how the other guy undressed Rei, slowly, romantically, kissing her snow-white skin, running his black fingers over the small waist, the little butt, and her delicately small breasts. Asuka suddenly felt arms going over her legs and linking up behind her head. "Uhhh, what are you doing?" she asked, panicked. But the guy simply raised her in that hold, keeping her pressed against his chest. Asuka ended up caught in his full nelson, while she watched Rei slowly mount up her own big black cock and start riding it cowgirl style. A tickle came the area of her asshole as he tried to put it inside her. "Wrong hole!" she cried, terrified. "What are you doing..." It wasn't the wrong hole. He angled it so that it would go precisely in her ass as he lowered her. He was having none of her resistance. He simply pushed his cock into her asshole, stretching out as he went, ignoring her pleas and screams, digging deep into her insides and demolishing her virgin hole with his big black cock. Asuka shrieked as tears ran down her face, but no one was interested. Rei rode her own big black cock with uncharacteristic excitement, her hands gently caressing the face of the bull, her own having on what looked like a slight smile, her head tilting back in bliss. The little breasts bounced up and down as she rode... The bull carried Asuka towards the window, where through the tears she could see nothing but a spread of light. He began to fuck her harder, ignoring her cries, while she helplessly slapped against him, begging for mercy. "Please, stop..." she mewled. "I can't take this anymore..." How humiliating would it be if anyone saw her like this? I'm an EVA pilot... returned the crashing thought. You can't use me like this... Her asshole endured the assault, and as time went on, her muscles relaxed and the pain turned into pleasure... ...  a little while longer and she began to enjoy it fully, taking comfort in the feeling of being assraped against her will, utterly unable to move as this alpha male prepared to break her apart and fill her with every drop of his black seed.... "Please..." she started. "Faster."   She had no control whatsoever - and that's a good thing. She relished the feeling of total submission before this primal force that decided to have its way with her, before this monster that stripped her of dignity and took her virginity by pumping her violently with his black cock. "Yes, fuck my ass with your big black cock. Please ruin me however you like, master! I love your big black cock! I need it!" She learned to flex her hole and squeeze him as he went in and out, making sure he got the very best from from her virgin asshole. Only I can make him feel this way. I was made for this. I was made for his cock. This is better than being a pilot. More important... I'm the one and only... "Please, don't stop, sir..." Her toes curled and her body quivered from his crazed assfucking like an instrument in the hands of a master. Her eyes rolled back and she nearly passed out from the intensity of it all, when his hold tightened enough to make her joints pop and his cock buried itself as deep as it could go, striking parts of her she never knew existed. Every strike of that big black cock reverberated in her young being, till the last holds on her sanity came undone and her lust for him became the most dominant, central part of her personality. "FUUUUUUCK!!!!" she howled. Her pussy unleashed by itself without a single touch, showering her juices over the glass wall in a mad spray that went everywhere. She had never squirted in her life, and now she had done so only from being assfucked. "I love you," she confessed, weak and soft - white clay to be moulded and broken in strong black hands like his for years to come. For the first time in her life, Rei felt intensely about something: her newfound love for black cock. She herself was shocked at the sudden change in her mode of being. She lay on the bed kissing her bull while he held her down in a mating press, her skinny arms and legs wrapped around his muscle-bound back, caressing his beautiful dark skin as he filled her up to the brim. Each thrust of his cock spilled seed from her full womb. Around the point when she had ridden him, she realized that she loved him. That she loved being fucked by him. That she could never go back to not feeling this way. The feeling of his cock was overbearing and his body was so strong and beautiful. Rei felt so grateful to him for teaching her all of this... For giving her a real purpose.   "I want to be your Asian slut forever," she whispered lovingly, using her tongue to lick at his face. "I want your big black cock inside me. I want to carry all your babies." He thrust with all his power, sending splintering pain into her stomach and up her spine. "Doesn't it hurt to be such a whore?" "I want it to hurt," said Rei, her mouth opening in total cocklust. She licked her lips, still tasting his cum. "Big black cock should always hurt. Asian pussies were made to be broken." The next thing she knew Asuka was thrown on the bed next to her. The two were side by side, each one resting her head against a passed out Misato. The ever-angry Asuka glanced at her, blissfully zen. She seemed to have discovered the joy of surrendering as well. A moment later she screamed, proclaiming herself and her white pussy to be made for breeding. Hearing her made Rei that much wetter. Even she has found herself... She searched for Asuka's hand and grabbed it, giving her an encouraging squeeze. Asuka squeezed back. The two exchanged a loving glance, finally able to appreciate each other as total BBC sluts. The two school girls kissed deeply, happy to be in this together, to be bred at once by such amazing cocks... The bulls came inside them again and again as the teens begged for every drop of their cum, for greater pain and punishment, for a lifetime of service in the service of BBC and nothing else. "Please breed us," they said in unison, showing them the eternal peace sign. "Please let us carry your black babies." "You need to come to Japan with us," said Asuka, crying with pleasure. "We need you there so desperately..." "We don't want those small dicks!" added Rei, eyes burning with worship for their BBCs. The two bulls grabbed a marker and drew a Queen of Spades over both their wombs, officially accepting them as breedable cocksluts that belonged to BBC and BBC only. A lifetime of black breeding awaited the white and Asian duo. Their heavy balls spent every drop of cum towards that goal, lavishing their wombs with scorching seed, feeding their hungry mouths, and coming all over their tight bodies.   When all was said and done the two bulls rose and left behind a mess. Asuka lay on her side, somehow still wearing her one heel, her body twitching. She sucked on her finger and mumbled incomprehensibly about being a pilot. Rei lay face down, completely exhausted, a gooey puddle of hot cum forming at the base of her pussy, spams still wrecking her cum-covered body. The gobs of cum planted all over her ass shone brightly in the predawn gloom. Misato snored softly, just as before, too fucked up to come out of her coma blacked. The bulls dropped fluttering dollars all over the bed, covering all three of them in green, taking pity on the stupid foreign bitches. "Go get yourself a soda or something, kiddo," said Asuka's partner, then gave her a final merciless slap on her abused asscheeks.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Night like this (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! I am so stuck in uni stuff that life is something I do in between classes. That means, that I don’t really get many chances to write… but when I do, I try :D

This is another one of the requests, send by a lovely Nonnie. Thank you so much, hope you like it <3

The request was sharing the bed for Ethan and MC and, well, it got my brain working again :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006350

Enjoy! <3

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Naveen made a promise to himself. A promise to use all the time he had to take care of people closest to him, to help them and make sure they didn’t waste their time. The very first thing he decided to do after coming back to health was to organize weekends at his house. Once a month, he invited Ethan and Claire to stay with him, eat dinner, stay the night and see the morning by the water.

Both of them always agreed, with Ethan driving both them there and back to Boston. Ever since they both came back to the hospital, their relations haven’t been the easiest. The struggle to work and take care of their patients as best as they could, while trying to get over their lingering feelings was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. Judging by the haunted look in her eyes when their gazes met across the room told him that it was hard for her too.

The atmosphere in the car wasn’t as tense this time. They both knew there were times in which they couldn’t say a word to the other without falling apart. That was not a case this time, though, cause the conversation was flowing so freely that they turned the music down, and then turned it off completely. The past week was hard and the mere thought of a weekend off was enough to make up for it.

“Did you see the face of that intern when you yelled? I must say, Rookie, I didn’t expect you to be able to do this.” he laughed, looking over to her for a split second before returning his eyes to the road.

“I’m taking care of your throat, so that you can talk normally. To your patients, to Naveen, to me… And what can I say, I had a great teacher when it comes to dealing with stubborn interns.” Claire teased, reaching over to pat his arm slightly, sending a trail of sparks up his hand and down her fingers.

“Not sure if I should be proud or offended.” He cleared his throat before responding, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little.

“Definitely both.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to hold this against you. It’s been a long week, you’re tired and perfectly entitled to react that way. Just… a little secret…” he leaned towards her, keeping his eyes on the road, beckoning her closer to him. They met halfway through over the control panel, his breath brushing against the skin of her cheek as he spoke “… don’t do this too often or people will think that I have a bad influence on you.”

“People already think you have too big of an influence on me. Most of them are jealous, though. Or, at least, that’s what Naveen says.” She concluded, shrugging slightly.

“You’re talking to Naveen about me?”

“Oh, all the time. A few more of those conversations with him and I’ll know everything about you.” she spoke, gauging his reaction. As expected, alarm flashed in his blue irises, two lines appearing above his eyes. Almost as though she didn’t think about what she was doing, she reached once again, smoothing the skin on his forehead tenderly. His breath caught in his throat so briefly that she almost missed it. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Sorry to break this to you, Rookie, but I already have wrinkles.” Their conversation morphed from being loose to being a playful banter, and he couldn’t say he minded. He didn’t. She was the only person that could bring out that side of him, make him forget about the cruelty and unforgiveness of the outside world.

“And they are incredibly attractive.”

Ethan didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that she found him appealing, that much he could figure out from their time together. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t find think she was beautiful. But they were not in the position to speak about it, no matter how much they wanted to shout about it.

The rest of the ride went by with both of them steering away from the difficult subject. Naveen’s house came into the view and they both breathed a sigh of relief. He greeted them with a wide smile and cups of hot wine, as the temperature outside dropped, snow falling from the sky, covering the ground in a thick layer. Ethan carried their bags inside, refusing to let Claire do it on her own. Leaving it by the wall in the living room, he joined her and Naveen in the kitchen.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit. You two can prepare the table… and now I feel like a parent, talking to his kids.” Naveen joked, looking between them, then pointing towards the table.

Their moves were synchronized, in perfect harmony, as though they have been doing this together for years, understanding each other without words. Food made its way onto the table shortly after. Ethan pulled out her chair for her, helping her sit down before joining her and Naveen to eat. His fingers brushed against her shoulders, another round of sparks shooting right through them. Naveen noticed. Of course he did, but he chose to keep quiet, at least for the time being.

Evening turned into the night, alcohol making them just a little bolder, and conversations were moving through diverse subjects. Laughter filled the air, voices were raised with emotions and some tears were falling down their cheeks in hysteric fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe you told her that.” Ethan exclaimed, pretending to be hurt. Claire laughed, falling against him, her forehead pressed against his arm, her body shaking.

“She is just really persuasive.”

“I just offered to trade information.” She raised her hands in mocked defense. Ethan turned to look at her, his fingers itching to brush the lock of hair from her face. It was most likely alcohol that made him do it, his touch lingering a little longer than it should. Alcohol, or at least that’s what he told himself.

“And what exactly sis you offer?”

“A story of your heroic poker game in Miami.” Her voice wavered a little at the end, her mind flooded with memories. Ethan shifted in his chair uncomfortably, his body reacting at the mention of the first apex of his feelings for her. It felt like he has known her forever, when in reality, the night in Miami happened only a few months ago. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Seriously, Rookie, you’re walking on very thin ice.” He muttered under his breath and she scoffed, swatting his arm slightly.

“Oh, please, there are far worse things I could have said. Like that time when we broke into the-“ she started speaking, but before any words could expose them, he pressed his hand to her lips, his eyes telling her to be quiet. Naveen laughed, a small hint of an idea about just what happened between the two already forming in his head.

“You two are acting like kids.”

Both of them turned towards him, then looked at each other, leaning away like they got burned. Another laugh escaped Naveen’s lips as he clapped his hands.

“We’re not kids. It’s just… complicated.” Ethan mused, refusing to look at Claire again.

“Oh, I know. And I also know that you two are about to act like even bigger kids when I tell you, that my other guest room is in renovation, the couch is gone, as you can see, and that means that you two are sleeping in the same bed tonight.”

The room got so quiet that the pin dropping to the ground would be loud. Ethan turned to look at Claire with an uncertain look in his eyes, checking in with her. She seemed to be just as lost, and before either could say anything to the older doctor, he snickered, tapping his hand against the table, wished them a good night and left them alone.

“Do you-“ he started speaking, only to be immediately stopped by her.

“Don’t even think about it, Ramsey.”

Suddenly, they were sober, no trace of intoxication present. Both acutely aware of the situation they were in. Both fighting, with all they had, to keep their feelings at bay, to not fall right back to where they were. Ethan put on his mask, shielding himself from her, and she seemed to be doing exactly the same. Despite them both being friendly just seconds ago, the change in the balance caused them to put their defenses up.

The room was dark, the covers of the bed made and ready for them to get to sleep. Claire went into the bathroom without saying a word of even so much as looking at him, leaving Ethan by himself. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as all the air left his body, making him feel empty. He knew it was his idea to stay away from each other, and playful banter and harmless flirting didn’t do any harm, but this was different. They were about to spend the night together, in the same bed, with nowhere to hide or run, and it terrified him. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to fight. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he wanted. All he knew was that he couldn’t bring himself to forget her and move on, she was just that potent to him, in every way possible. She got him addicted to her, and he didn’t want to go to rehab.

By the time she got out of the bathroom, he was already in bed, his chest bare, his body covered by the covers. Their eyes met for a split second before she looked away, laying down next to him, keeping as much distance between them as she could. The last light was turned off, the complete darkness accompanied the silence of the room.

He could feel her breathing, hear her breathing. The air was cold, the late November having its toll on the temperature in the room. He felt a shiver run through his body as he pulled on the covers to keep warm. Some tugging came from the side, but he didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Could you please not pull all the covers to your side? I’m cold too, you know.” She spoke with a low voice, no emotions except for annoyance.

“I have no idea what you mean, you have plenty of covers.” He responded without opening his eyes, lying on his back. She scoffed but didn’t say another word.

A few minutes went by and he thought she fell asleep. Nothing could have been further from the truth. All of a sudden, she moved, throwing the covers up from his body and positioning herself on top of him, her head in the crook of his neck, her hands moving the covers over both of them.

“Rookie, what the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed, keeping his hands away from her, not sure what to do.

“Maybe you’re not aware, but you stole all the blankets, and the night is cold. I tried to pull some back, but you didn’t budge, and I was not about to die of hypothermia. You either take it as it is, or you let me have more blankets.”

He hesitated. He knew he should have told her to move, told her he’d give her the blankets, all of them if she wanted. But he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady against his chest, their body heat mixing, warming them up more than any blankets ever could on their own. He waited for her to react, waited for her to say anything, but she didn’t comment on it either, just fell deeper into his embrace.

The room was silent again, the only sounds were their breathing. Time slowed down, dragging mercilessly as he tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t seem to do it. He was too stressed, too awake, too distracted by her to focus on sleeping. Sudden movement made him all the more alert, the slightest of touches, a whisper of her fingertips on his chest. His breath got caught in his throat for a split second, his muscles tensing.

“Rookie.” He tried asking her what this was about, but didn’t get any answer.

“Rookie?” his voice gained a concerned edge, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly.

“Rookie-“

Her head snapped upwards as his head fell down, their eyes locking. Their lips were mere inches away from each other and the atmosphere got hot, intense. He heard her gasp softly, surprise spelled on her face. He thought about what he should do, what was the right thing to do, but everything was thrown out the window when her eyes dropped to his lips for just a second. This time, he didn’t hesitate.

His lips caught hers in a kiss that took his breath away, their eyes still locked. He stilled his movements, giving her a chance to back out. Except, she didn’t. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling on it as she dived into the kiss. Ethan’s arms wound around her tighter, his palms spread flat across her back, pressing her closer.

“Ethan… Ethan, wait… Ethan…” she tried talking but was stopped by his lips every time, making them laugh. She dug her hands into his sides, tickling him, making him let out a sound that bordered on a shriek.

“What is it?” he breathed heavily, nuzzling his nose against the line of her jaw. She smoothed his hair, brushing a lock out of his eyes.

“Nothing, just… what is this? What are we doing?” Claire asked, looking past and through all the layers of excuses and worthless words that didn’t hold any meaning to them. There they were, bare and with nothing to protect them from harm, asking for trust and willing to give that trust back.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore. Everything I believed in changed when I met you. And I don’t want to go back to who I was before. All I know is that you are here, with me, and it couldn’t possibly be better.” He confessed, speaking the words that have been stuck in his head for the past couple of months, created in his mind during long, sleepless nights, after waking up from another dream about her. His voice was warm and soft, vulnerable and delicate, engulfing her like a blanket.

“Ethan…” she tried speaking, but her words betrayed her, leaving emptiness. Everything was lost, the only thing that stayed was him, everything he was to her. Everything he could be for her.

Claire pulled him back into her, kissing him like she wanted to do so many times. Rolling over, she pulled him on top of her, her arms wrapping around his neck, laughing as he stumbled a little, supporting himself with his elbow. The kiss was lighthearted and playful, slowly climbing towards something more. That kiss carried them into the darkness of the night, a beginning to many more, with the unknown and many more nights just like this one ahead of them.

------------

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[angstymarshmallow]

The Wolf’s Heart; part eight - “marked as yours” N*FW (cal lowell x mc)

[a little note: I decided on a name...eight parts in. It’s cliche but honestly, this is all I have lol. AND NOW i HAVE TO UPDATE THEM ALL.Ahhhh This part was a joy and a pain to work on because it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything like this. If you aren’t comfortable with smut, then pass on this because there’s kind of a lot of that going on with how close they’ve grown to each other - even more so than before and I didn’t know if it was rough or enough or. Plus I’m touching on non-canon material that’s kinda influence in the book I’m writing on the side, you’ll see once you start reading. I’m going to stop babbling, I’m just anxiously going to leave this here. I always appreciate feedback and would love to know what people think!]

[words counted: 8210]

[summary: after rescuing Cal, they’ve finally had a moment to themselves for the talk. The Big One to decide whether or not they’ve got a future in NOLA together]

[part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven] 

The rest of New York City feels very far away in comparison to the weight of Cal’s thoughts as he peers at the city’s skyline down below the nearly twenty story building. Technically, he knows it isn’t - he can jump and leap that in a simple bound and then some, but that wouldn’t change anything.

After he’d met and thank the people that helped Wren to rescue him, he’s been trying to come to terms with the past several hours - days. It’s been that long since he’s seen the outside world and although they’ve only been in the hotel for an hour; he’s itching for a run.

He presses his forehead against the cool surface for a moment. He needs to touch something, to convince himself he’s really here –  really alive and not dreaming up this place. He’s still not a hundred percent sure. He rubs his fingers along the glass, making a slight indent into it.

The bloodsuckers reassured him he could spend the night with Wren here; at least giving them some time to re-group, but all Cal can think about is what looms ahead. It’s not over, not in the slightest. Shaw over-played his hand by contacting Kavinsky, but Cal isn’t out of the woods yet. In his heart, he knows it.

It won’t be over as long as Shaw continues to threaten the livelihood of his pack. And he’ll be coming back home with zero solutions to deal with that colossal problem.

Shit.

The scent of her suddenly fills the room and the wolf in Cal snaps at attention at the diversion. Something in his chest twists, as he whirls around to spot Wren by the door, a hand on her hip and a small smile toying at the corner of her lips.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

He shakes his head, a small smile of his own lifting his cheeks as she crosses the room to stand in front of him. “For you? It’s always free.” Taking both her hands into his, he leans forward until he’s able to bump her forehead. “Have I mentioned how happy I am to see you? I almost can’t believe you’re here and not some kind of fever dream.” He squeezes her hands for emphasis and watches as a faint blush splays across her cheeks in response.

“Are you admitting that you actually dream about me?” Her smile transforms into a teasing smirk.

“Guilty as charged.” He pauses for a moment, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat. “God, I missed you.” He never thought he’d see her again, and now here she is – standing right in front of him. Does he dare hope? Does he dare believe this really reality?

Her teasing smirk vanishes. Wren presses into him, and those dark eyes of hers’ turn uncharacteristically grows swiftly somber. “I missed you too.”

While remaining eye contact, she drops one of his hands. “You’re never allowed to do that to me again.” As if to drive her point home, she punches him on the shoulder. “I was worried shitless about you.”

“Woah!” He’s more surprised than he is hurt at the gesture and a huge part of him wants to kiss her, but the smarter part of him recognizes the telltale signs of Wren’s temper. His eyes search her face.

“You don’t get to do that to me, not anymore – we’re a team, Cal.” Her mouth snaps shut and then open again as she huffs a breath.

Cal thinks she’s fighting to say more without knowing how to say it. He waits a beat, resting a hand on her arm in support.

“Shit.” She swears again and runs her fingers through her hair. “I need to say this. I need to get this out before I start losing my mind.” She looks completely flustered.

That’s how he knows it’s something important – and the sudden intense look in her eyes definitely confirms that.

Relationship important. And it takes every bit of him not to coddle her to his chest. Every bit of his control not to tell her it’s okay – they don’t have to discuss it now, if she doesn’t want to.

“I love you Cal.” She says the words softly, staring up at him with a look of tenderness strong enough to make it hard for him to swallow. “And when Donny told me you were gone…it was probably one the scariest moments of my life.” She shakes her head, “no I definitely was, because no one at Wolf’s Den knew where you were.” Taking a deep breath, she makes a point of reaching for him as if she still can’t believe it herself that he’s really here either.

“I told myself I’d do anything to have you back, anything to look at you right now and tell you…” she trails off for a moment, her voice trembling with a sudden look of vulnerability in her eyes that makes Cal rest a protective arm around her waist. “And tell you –,” her voice shakes, “how much I love you. And that scares me. It scares the shit out of me, but it scares me more that I almost never got the chance to say it. And I’m not going to keep one foot in the door anymore Cal.”

“What are you saying Wren?” He has to hear her say it. He has to know that there is no going back for her anymore. For either of them. If they’re going to be together again, if she’s going to be apart of his life –

“I want to be your mate. The whole nine yards.” Her voice cracks but she says the words loudly and her eyes never waver from his. “I want to be your only partner – in the pack, in life – in everything. I want it all, but only with you.”

At first, Cal doesn’t speak. He doesn’t think he can. His entire body remains frozen on the spot as he stares down at her completely – loss for words. Slowly, the enormity of her words start to sink in.

“Uh…Cal?” She wets her lips. “You’re staring at me…and not saying anything.”

He’s never really seen her babble before, Wren isn’t the type. But it’s completely cute how she’s shifting on her feet and tugging on her arm as she suddenly starts rambling, Her eyes drift to the side, “– and it’s kinda freaking me out when I’ve just left my heart out here and I –”

Cal lets out a howl of joy, cutting off the rest of her sentence. He scoops her high inside his arms, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Ooof. Down boy!” She fastens her legs around waist and her arms by his neck seconds later. “So, I take it – you’re happy…?”

“Happy?” Happy doesn’t even begin to cover how he feels. He chuckles in disbelief before swooping in to capture her slightly parted lips. And kissing her is like icing on the cake - he pours every ounce of his happiness into his kisses. Every ounce of love he can as their mouths meet, over and over again. “I’m beyond happy.” He murmurs against her lips, his ears perking at the sound of her moan. His tongue dart swiftly out to have a taste of her – sliding between half-parted lips.

When he manages to give them some breathing room, she’s smiling at him and there’s so much love in her eyes – that he doesn’t want to wait a second longer. Why should they after everything they’ve been through?

“I want to, tonight. Make you mine, I mean.” He speaks the words in a heated rush without thinking, gauging her reaction. “In every way possible – I want you to be my mate.”

Her eyes widen a little and for a moment Cal fears the worst. Maybe they need a little more time – he’s already gotten his answer.

But then she nods eagerly; her wavy hair shaking at the vigorous motion. “God Cal, yes. Please.”

“Are you sure?” He wants her to be sure, because once it’s done there’s no going back. At least not for him. When wolves mate – they mated for life.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know this is what I want, what I need.” Wren takes a breath and cups his cheek. “There’s no one else but you Cal, not for me. Not anymore.”

The conviction in her voice makes his heart swell with love and pride, because for him there isn’t anyone else either. Without uttering a response, Cal ambles confidently towards the foot of the bed. With a soft growl, he tosses her playfully onto the silken white sheets.

She lands lightly across it, gazing up at him with a look of unadultered hunger and affection in her eyes that makes his throat go dry.

“Well? What do I have to do?” Her brows wrinkle in that adorable way of hers’ when she’s momentarily confused by something. “Is this going to be….some kind of weird- cult shit?”

Cal barks out a laugh. Shaking his head in amusement, he responds. “No, it isn’t. I mean, it’s still magical but.” He stops for a moment, thinking of how little he knows about it. “I don’t even know if it’ll really work because you’re human.”

“Only half-human.” She reminds him, sitting up.

“Half-human.” He agrees, lifting his lips into a smile at the reminder. “But we’ll take it slow and figure it out together?”

“Mmm,” Wren tilts her head to the side, biting her lips in a way that causes a rush of heat towards his groin.

Fuck, she knows what it does to him when she does that.

“What if I don’t want to take it slow?” She slowly starts unbuttoning her shirt, button after button without taking her eyes off of him. “What if I want it rough and fast?” She shrugs the garment off. “What if I want you to make me beg for it?”

“Are you trying to test me?” Because he’s almost at his limit. Already, he’s able to sense the wolf’s patience waning – shivering in anticipation of claiming her completely. She doesn’t realize yet, but she’s playing a dangerous game.

“Maybe.” She smiles coyly at him. “Is it working?”

He watches her strip-tease with half-hooded eyes.

He’s hooked on where her hands travel; between the valley of her supple breasts, down the length of her abs until disappearing between her shapely thighs - wishing it were his fingers instead that draws a low hum of pleasure from her throat.

Damn, it’s definitely working.

Grinning wolfishly at her, Cal captures one of her ankles and with deliberate slowness, hauls her towards the foot of the bed. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“But I want to hear you say it.” Her eyes challenge him and lips that slightly part invitingly as the bed suddenly dips from the shift of weight.

She doesn’t know what she’s really asking – for him to lose control over the wolf. Even as much as he trusts her, he doesn’t know if he can trust that part of himself not to hurt her, and the last thing he’s ever wanted to do is hurt her.

The room’s been quiet for almost too long.

“I trust you.” She says softly as if reading his thoughts.

Her touch across his cheek settles some of his unease. He nuzzles his face into her palm, inhaling her familiar scent. His pulse skyrockets as she jerks his chin towards her.

“I trust you completely Cal.”

Cal exhales harshly, letting most of his worries drift away from her insistent touch. She trusts him completely. He’s never had anyone trust him like this – not with this part of himself, the part he’s accustomed to having to hide in past relationships. Although she’s come close, more than once this – this is different.

This is giving the wolf complete control. This is letting nature run its course and magic taking the reins of their fate, of their future.

The bed creaks again as Cal presses one knee and then the other on either side of her hips. His left-hand trails across her chest, pausing to run soft circles across nipples.

She sucks in a breath.

Smiling to himself, he drifts his hand a little lower while slowly pushing her back – taking his time to guide her movements, until her naked back lands softly against the silken sheets. His massive frame looms atop her; still hovering and bracing without allowing much of his weight to entrap her completely.

“What are you staring at?” She says after a moment of silence. Her eyes shoot up in question and Cal shakes his head.

“Just admiring how beautiful you are,” his hands frame her face as she breaks out into a smile. God, she’s breathtaking.

“You’re the one to talk.”

When she lifts a hand to tangle in his hair, he stops her. “Mmm.” A low rumble escapes his throat as he grabs her wrist and holds it high within the air. His nails are almost too long to be completely human anymore and they bite into her flesh. “Not tonight, not for this.”

Her eyes light up unexpectedly.

Neither speaks as the bed emits another soft squeak at the shift of weight. Inch by inch disappears between them as Cal lowers himself until his lips skim the base of her neck. “I’m in complete control tonight.”

-

Wren releases another rush of air as she feels Cal’s mouth hovering by one of her most sensitive spots. It takes all her willpower to resist the urge to reach for him, to drag her fingers in his hair and yank him closer. But she has a feeling he won’t let her. Not tonight.

Instead, she fights the temptation with a barely concealed moan and shuts her eyes. She listens to the sound of his breathing, the gentle pressure of his lips as they press a kiss where her pulse flutters in excitement.

Another low rumble fills the air.

His lips travel down the length of her collarbone, its languid pace threatens her heart into palpations as they dip between her breasts and nip her tender flesh.

She shivers.

His sharp teeth graze her nipple – one and then the other, biting gently while her own breathing turns ragged.

“Look at me.”

His voice has always had its edges, raw – honest. Even in its softest moments, there have been parts of it that’s never lost some of what she suspects as the wolf. But hearing him now; there’s almost no hint of that softness left.

When her eyes flutter back open, Wren barely manages to stifle a gasp.

His aren’t their normal colour anymore. They’re a soul-scorching amber glow, the telltale signs of his other half fighting for control.  But he’s not fighting it. He’s letting it happen. And a silent thrill runs through her at the knowledge.

His tongue darts out as he nuzzles the side of his face into her skin. “Mine,” he says the word emphatically, expelling a breath before continuing to lick a path down her body; past her lower abdomen.

And her stomach seizes in anticipation for more.

When his lips find her center, Wren’s back nearly arches off the bed.

“Every part of you is mine.” His hands drop to pull her thighs wider apart from each other. Shooting her a grin, he buries his head in between them and blows a cool breath of air across her clit that causes another shiver to travel along the base of her spine.

“Cal –”

The moment his tongue touches her heat, the rest of her sentence turns into a cry of pleasure.

He isn’t gentle. No. Not this time.

His tongue expertly latches onto her, pushing through tender her folds with a sudden feverous intent that has her fighting to keep still. All she can do is toss her head back and moan as he drives his tongue in and out of her pussy, without pause – without giving her a chance to breathe.

His tongue knows exactly how to drive her wild, how to push her limits of what she can and cannot handle. From its long strokes against her swollen clit, to nipping when she least expects it - it’s almost too intense – too much, to the point where she’s clenching the sheets to keep herself from reaching for him. And when she feels the sharp edge of his teeth placing more pressure on her clit, her mind almost threatens to see stars.

Oh my god.

He’s never been like this before.

Wren sucks in a breath. Her hips shift a little off the bed as he continues his relentless pursuit of her orgasm, sucking her clit – nipping every so often at her most sensitive spot, until finally slipping a finger inside to stretch her.

Oh god.

Wren has to bite down her lip hard as another two digits slip joins in, pushing deeply despite her sudden flinch at their intrusive entrance. With three digits roughly thrusting inside her heat, they spike her heartbeat even higher as the sound of her wet excitement fills the air. Her hands loosen around the sheets. She tries to grip the back of his head, but a moment after touching him – his free hand firmly twists hers’ away and pins it back into place.

He’s going faster now, as if to match the pattern of her own erratic heartbeat still racing inside her chest. His fingers move at a speed so fluid that her legs have started to shake.

“Cal,” she cries out his name as her orgasm hits, like a wave that’s been brewing a storm – it crashes into her with such ferocity that her hips completely leave the bed. She tries to twist away – her sensitivity suddenly too much to keep him between her legs.

But Cal slips his fingers out at the same second and she struggles to move as he laps every bit of her excitement on his tongue. He braces her against the canopy bed to prevent her escape. When he finally pulls back to give her a little breathing room, his amber-coloured eyes watches her in the dim light. “You’re so beautiful.”

Without taking his eyes off her, he sniffs his fingers. “I love your smell.” He takes one finger into his mouth at a time, licking them clean. “Fuck, I love your taste.”

A whimper escapes her throat at the gesture. God, if she didn’t think he could get any hotter before, well – she’s pretty sure she’d combust on the spot any minute now if he stops.

Wren sits up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close enough to taste herself on his lips. She catches his lower lip between her teeth and bites hard enough to draw blood. He moans low in his throat and the sound makes her stomach flip.

Breaking their kiss, Cal rakes his fingers across her naked back.

It stings. His nails are sharp but there’s a lingering pleasure behind the pain.

“Swear it to me.” A single sharpened nail – long enough to prick her chin lifts her chin up. “Swear that you’re mine and no one else’s underneath the stars tonight.”

There’s no hesitation. He has her – soul, mind and body. “I swear I am yours and yours alone.” She gazes up at him, watching the flecks of gold glow brighter than ever before as he dips his head low and emit another growl.

The words feel right, everything feels right.

Except the moment Wren says them, a stinging sensation from where he’s marked her is suddenly all she can feel, all she can think about despite the living and breathing perfect specimen of a man right in front of her. Whatever endearments of love she’s thought of, quickly evaporates from her mind and she reels her head back in surprise. The pain isn’t just a light stab anymore – it’s more of a pulsing feeling that starts from her back where he’s undoubtedly staked her as his claim, until it ebbs deeply within her core.

She struggles to keep her focus on Cal.

What’s going on –

It’s as though he’s burned her, and any minute now she’ll smell the scent of her own flesh igniting itself as she finches back. Her hands move to quickly find the spot – but he’s faster.

-

Cal captures her hands and pulls them to rest against his hard chest as he lets out a hiss of pain. The mark goes both ways. He doesn’t just feel his pain; he feels hers too – down to the very core of his fucking soul.

Shit, does it always hurt this much for everyone?

Still, he can’t show weakness. It’s not what she needs right now. He can’t show a slither of how much it’s destroying him. She needs him, needs reassurance that she’ll be okay, that mating the right way will work. So, Cal doesn’t allow his gaze to waver. He doesn’t scream every curse word he can think of into existence. He merely bites his tongue against the hot flashes of pain still wracking his entire body.

This is what it means to be mated.

He endures the scorching fire within his blood. It’ll be gone soon enough. He only has to wait for it to pass. The wolf yelps but doesn’t falter either.

Minutes passes until he hisses at its impatience.

He wants to claim what’s rightfully his now that they’ve started. And he’ll let the wolf – only after allowing her proper time to adjust to all this. This is after all, new for them both even if his instincts are making it hard to keep his focus.

When his mate finally stops shaking, Cal draws his attention back to her lips; back to the curves of her well-toned body. When she starts trembling again – it isn’t because of pain. No, it’s with a new kind of feeling. Need. Painful need. He can almost taste it; her desire to mate - her sex quivering with the undeniable urge to join him.

It practically has him salivating.

He swallows it back.

“Cal, Cal I need you.” The words seem to tumble out, even surprising her. And her eyes flicker from their usual dark brown to nearly an identical colour.

And holy fuck does he need her. He needs to be inside her so fucking much that there aren’t any words to describe it. He can scarcely even breathe at how irresistible she suddenly seems in front of him – more than she’s ever been before; with her half-bruised lips from their kisses, tousled dark hair around her shoulders and dilated pupils of faint-amber. He’s completely aware of her pheromones warping the atmosphere around them. This is deeper than just lust, and love. It’s like a primal urge just to bend her over and fuck her senseless.

Claim her. Claim her.

Resting his palms on either side of her waist, he yanks her forward until the tip of his cock lightly teases the entrance of her mound.

When she moans, his cock twitches at the sound. “Beg for it.”

“Ah – what?” She pants, eyes clouded.

“Beg.”

He’d have to thank the universe later for the little self-control he’s had left to speak, but for right now – all he can concentrate on is the heat radiating off of her, off of him. And the heady look of lust on his mate’s face. But he’ll wait, he’ll wait as long he has to.

“You’re serious?”

“Beg.” The word comes out as a growl.

“I want you to fuck me Cal.” She drawls out the words, tilting her chin up – meeting his gaze head-on. “I need you to fuck me, so…so fucking bad. Please Cal. Make me yours.”

And it’s all the begging he needs.

Uttering a growl, Cal guides his length inside her - one inch at a time.

At first, Wren can’t speak. She bites down on her lower lip.

A familiar rush of pleasure fills him as her fingernails dig into his broad shoulders. What’s left of his self of control finally snaps as he hikes her legs around his lean waist and increasingly buries more of himself inside her sloppiningly wet heat.

He doesn’t spare more than few seconds for her to adjust once he’s down to the hilt, before he drives his hips forward. The bed creaks loudly at the motion and her own cry of pleasure encourages his burning need to fuck her – to really fuck her.

He recedes out of her slick entrance and then slams into her.

She digs her nails harder into his skin and fingers that have begun to feel more like claws press intimately into his flesh.

It’s enough to draw blood.

He slams into her again. And again. And again. Each time he does, her breath hitches until he can barely hear her over the loud smacking of their bodies - crashing into one another with frenzied urgency.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The word echoes inside his head like an infinite loop that only seems to grow stronger each time he thrusts his entire cock deep within her. It isn’t just about how much he loves her, it’s about the constant need to stretch her as much as he can, to fill her completely with his seed and hear her scream his name to the universe.

His hips jerk with such ferocity that she topples back and he goes with her, pounding with enough roughness for the board to splinter as the headboard clatters heavily against the wall. It doesn’t deter him. His goal is single-minded; solely on making her shatter beneath him and when she thinks she’s had enough – he’d do all over again.

Her own momentum can’t keep up and quite quickly, Cal’s thrust become wild and erratic enough to send Wren over the edge. He feels her inner walls tighten around his shaft and he expels a harsh breath as her entire body convulses all at once.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She continues to let out a string of curses as she throws her head back, eyes stinging with something close to tears as she shudders again.

God, even watching her come apart does something crazy to him. It makes his heart race, makes the wolf inside him puff in satisfaction that he’s able to satisfy his mate so completely. But he’s far from finished, in fact he’s famished for more.  And it isn’t until the tremors stop that he flips her over, guiding her closer to the center of the bed as the wolf snaps his impatience.

She doesn’t need to ask; his desire for her must work both ways too. Something in her body seems to respond automatically to his urges, and she shoots him a mischievous grin over her shoulder, before offering her smooth back to him.

She’s so sexy.

There’s his mark there too. Spirals that twirl together to make an insignia matching the one undoubtedly on his shoulder where’s marked him as her own. He stifles a groan at the sight and nudges her forward with a jerk of his hips, until she’s balanced on all fours. Her palms dig into the sheets, tearing the fabric as he sinks into her again.

Fuck. She’s exquisite. She’s perfect. She’s his.

His thrusts are jerky, uncontrolled. There’s no stopping him, not when he’s so close. He can’t help but be rough, nails raking angry marks across her thighs and hips as he keeps thrusting maddeningly fast into her. Here inside the safety of this room - he’s not just Cal anymore and she’s not just Wren either. This is bigger than the both of them and he surrenders himself to the passion, surrenders himself to the pain.

He presses his chest into her back, inhaling their sweaty mix. More. More.  He’s desperate to find his release – desperate to fill her completely with his come. He nicks the nape of her neck again with his sharpened teeth, biting down hard as she cries out his name.

Her hands grip the headboard as his pacing grows more erratic, more fevered until the bed shakes from the sheer intensity of their fucking. 

Without thinking, one of his hands finds the supple arch of her throat. He can almost hear it. Her pulse flutter in excitement when his grip tightens. He feels the exact moment when she let’s go. Her body convulses into intense shudders that fuels his orgasm. Uttering a string of curses as burrows his face into the crook of her neck as his body starts to shake, emptying himself inside her until he’s completely spent.

When he’s finally able to move again, Cal rolls over and takes her with him. She tucks herself at his side as he stares happily at the ceiling.

God, that was…..there’s really no way he can describe it

He listens to the sound of their heartbeats. They’re both still keyed to speak.

Woah. Is it like this for everyone?

“Wow.” Wren breaks the silence first, grinning up at him. There are flashes of exhaustion within her eyes when he peers at her. He’s worried he’s broken her for a moment until she threads her fingers through his chest hair and lets out a contented sigh.

“I know.” He blows stray strands of his now matted and wet hair away from his face, before staring back down at her. She’s never looked quite so messy and tired before. He likes the look on her.

“You were really holding out on me, huh?” She has the galls to arch her eyebrows at him and he laughs at the gesture.

“Maybe.” He tries to play it off, but his cheeks give him away. They always do. “I just…I never wanted to risk hurting you.” He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing bashfully at anywhere except directly at her.

“Uh huh. I’m not so breakable Cal.” He feels her fingers, still coated with sweat turn his chin. “But if you weren’t convinced before, maybe this will convince you now.” She presses a soft kiss to his jaw.

There’s still a faint amber-light to her eyes when she pulls back, and seeing it makes him so damn happy. He breaks out into a wide grin. “No, I can be as rough as I want now.” His words drop an octave, husky enough for her eyes to slide meaningfully down his hip.

Wren whistles. “God, I really thought you had stamina before but now.” She traces hand across his naked hip and the touch makes the tip of his shaft twitch. “Now, I definitely know what stamina is, I still feel like I could maybe go for another round or two.”

A low rumble escapes his throat. “I can’t help it. It’s what you do to me, and it’s the wolf that’s never truly sated.” He captures her hand and kisses her wrist before giving it a gentle squeeze. “But that can wait. When’s the last time you slept?”

Wren avoids his eyes. “Maybe a day or two.” She winces. “To be fair though, I was trying to find you.”

“I’m not going to argue with that. I just want you to take care of yourself, and I’m honestly beat.” He exhales sharply, closing his eyes for a moment and then stares back up at the ceiling. In all his wildest dreams – he didn’t think today would have ended the way it did and he flinches at the memory of being trapped.

If it wasn’t for her – he didn’t think he would have survived.

Wren scoots closer. Her warmth is a welcoming presence that breaks the prison of memories still flooding the gates of his mind. “I’m really glad you’re all in one piece, I can only imagine what that asshole put you through.”

Cal is hyperaware of her uncertainty. Even if she doesn’t ask – he can still feel it. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? And maybe one day, he will. However, for now – he’s perfectly fine with shoving the memories as far back as he can keep them. He won’t let them ruin everything tonight.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dropping a kiss by her brow, he sighs. “I’m here – you’re here, that’s what matters.”

“Mm.”

“Is that you letting this go without me having to ask?” He almost has to do a double-take.

“Hey! I let things go sometimes!”

He snorts.

“Okay – well,” she huffs out a breath. “Stubbornness runs in my blood but I’m not stupid enough not to see you’ve been through a lot.” She hesitates. “I can feel it radiating off of you in waves, and we don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

“Good.” He sighs in relief. God, he loves her for it. “I love you,” he whispers, shutting his eyes close.

“I love you too.” He feels her sharp teeth graze his side, “now shut up and let us get some sleep.”

-

Everything hurts.

Her arms, her legs – every part of her body seems to be completely worn out as the events of last night comes rushing back to her- as vivid as if she’s still there herself. The fight with Kavinsky. Finding Cal. Mating. Her cheeks colour at the latest memory. Last night had been intense, however it doesn’t take long for her mind to switch gears.

There’s too much going on at one time for it not to.

Even worse, Wren’s entire body aches as if she’s been hit by a truck and suffering the worst parts of a hungover because of it. The slightest flicker of movements she takes to sit up in bed causes an after-effect and she flinches at the stabs of pain. There’s no getting rid of it.

It isn’t the room. The room is blissfully quiet. It’s everything outside the room. Her hearing is better than it’s ever been before; picking up things she didn’t think possible. The whispers out in the hall from the people she’s only just met, suddenly sounds more like shouting.

“Do you think they’re going to get up anytime soon?” Harlow’s voice sounds filled of concern.

A snort sounding as if it belongs to Lily. “After hearing them last night – not likely.”

“Man. They were so loud.”

“You’re the one to talk Jax. You and Harlow have been waay louder in the past –”

Hissing, Wren clutches her temples as she tries to drone them out – desperate for silence. It’s no use. She can’t drone them out. They’re all she can focus on.

Shit.

Her eyes prick with tears as she takes a deep breath; her nose abruptly picking up the musky scents of sweat and sex mingled all into one. She realizes with a jolt – her senses haven’t just gotten better – they’re damned-well oversensitive to her current environment. And she hates it.

Crying out in pain, Wren rocks back and forth until strong arms suddenly encircle her. She’s cocooned into his hard chest and more aware than ever of his body heat, pressing intimately into her as she feels his breath by her ear.

“Sssh, it’s okay. Just focus on me. Focus on my voice.” His voice which by the way – sounded incredibly smooth. “Tune everything else out.”

Taking a ragged breath, Wren tries to concentrate on Cal and Cal alone.

Minutes pass as they remained locked like this; with Cal humming into her ear and Wren trying desperately to keep her attention solely on him. It’s difficult. She’s never had to fight quite like this to remain focus before, but eventually the voices in the hall become a dull ache that’s moved to the back of her brain.

Oh, thank god.

Twisting inside Cal’s arms, she gives him a smile short of nothing but her relief. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

“I think I do,” his frown creases his brow as he lifts his fingers to rub her temples. “I was a pup once.”

The gesture helps to soothe her and she releases another sigh, leaning into his hands. “Please tell me this gets better, or at least easier.” Letting out a string of curses, she closes his eyes and forces her attention on his breathing.

He laughs.

She winces.

“Sorry.” At least he sounds apologetic about it. “It doesn’t; you’ll just be able to handle it better. You’ll adjust your attention on the things you want to focus on.” He smiles a little to himself, “but this is kinda cute in a way.”

She shoots him a glare that would make lesser men flinch and scramble to get away. But to Cal, it only serves to make his smile grow wider. “How the hell is any of this cute?”

“You just –” he shakes his head, “kinda remind me of Donny when he was a pup. He was pretty much oversensitive to almost everything for a while when he hit fourteen.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”  She grumbles. Besides, Donny was a child when he’d reach peak werewolf physiology – she’s a grown ass woman, and all she wants to do is curl into a ball and disappear underneath all these sheets.

He drops his fingers and plants a kiss by her temple. “It wasn’t supposed to.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I thought Donny was the worst.” He quips back.

“No, he comes a close second now…” She hesitates, expelling a short sigh as her eyes flutter back open to stare at him. “He misses you too.”

Cal’s jaw tightens. “I can’t believe I left him alone like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” She interjects before he’s able to place anymore blame on himself. She knows how easy it is for him to spiral when it comes to Donny. Mumbling softly, she bumps his forehead in comfort. “You didn’t know any of this was going to happen.”

“Still, I was careless.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “If I hadn’t come to New York alone – .”

“But you did. You were cocky and dumb enough to think Kavinsky hadn’t told Shaw.” She isn’t going to sugarcoat the mess they’re in to make him feel better. They always tell each other the hard-truths, and the hard-truth is – Cal fucked up and things could have gone a lot worse if they hadn’t found him. But, she doesn’t want to focus on that. They’re here, they’re together - that’s what matters. 

“And whatever comes next, I’m with you.” She tries to make a joke, “for a better or worse right?”

When Cal suddenly pulls away, Wren eyes narrow into almost slits.

He looks…guilty. She can almost feel it, it’s starting to practically envelop the room. “Hey,” she turns completely, ignoring the twinges of pain from the sudden motion of her legs shifting to rest on either sides of his waist. “I wanted this, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.” She bumps his forehead affectionately; the way he does to get her attention. “I love you, and I’m sure…it’ll get better.” She gives him a smile, “it’s like you said – it takes time.”

Cal watches her a moment longer before expelling a deep sigh.

“C’mon, you’re pulling down the mood.”

“Oh?” The corner of his lips twitch as Wren rakes him with a once over – lingering on the lower half of his body, before slowly trailing up again. “And what exactly is the mood?”

“The mood is - I’m very aware of what’s going on down here. Right now.” She nudges her hips forward by an inch as she says it. It’s enough to brush the tip of his cock and almost reflexively, he lets out a loud hiss.

Grinning, Wren does it again – only this time, his hands come up to splay across her back. She can almost taste his desire on her tongue the moment she leans forward and captures his lips. It’s so potent that it fills the room. She isn’t having any troubling focusing on him anymore – he’s all she can think about.

Wren bites down hard and she’s rewarded with a growl as his fingers rake a path down her back “And I for one, want to take full advantage of this.” Her stomach is already curling in anticipation for him as he kisses her roughly on the lips.

His chocolate brown eyes flash with sudden heat just as the palm of her hand pushes him back. She shifts her position to straddle him as he lands comfortably atop of their sheets.

“You know we’ll have to leave this room eventually.” His hands drift towards her hips, staring momentarily down at the marks he’s left from last night.

She sneaks a glance at them as well, and then back up at him as she slowly lowers herself onto his throbbing member. “Maybe, but for now - I’m suddenly feeling ravenous.”

He shifts hips hip with enough subtle force for her to moan at the sudden friction.

God, how is it that he feels so good? So right. Everything always does with him and it’s a wonder it’s taken her this long to realize he’s the only person that belongs in her heart. The only person that has her completely.

She entwines their fingers together as she begins to move her hips forward back and in earnest, dictating their space to a much slower rhythm than last night. All her senses are very aware of all of him, the way his muscles tense and bunch together, the way his eyes can’t seem to take themselves off of her – down to the slight intakes of breath he takes as his eyes transition into that scorching hot amber.

When he tries to move his hips faster, her fingers dig into his palms. “Let me.” Her words are husky, but Cal wordlessly arches a brow before he slows down and Wren hides her grin. He’s giving her complete control of their pleasure.

She rolls her hips – remaining steady eye contact with Cal as his gaze turns smoldering.

“Fuck, you’re killing me here Wren.” He drops her hands to grip her waist.

“Good.” She can feel his impatience budding again, the wolf in her is basking in every minute of it. But he hasn’t tried anything again yet. Smirking, she rolls her hip again – biting down on her lip to stop herself from moaning at how good he feels.

Cal swears, his nails turning sharp as they dig into her sides. His breath is almost ragged, and his cheeks are heavily flushed when she finally starts to pick up speed. “Oh god, you feel so fucking good.” The rest of his words turns into a cry of pleasure when she squeezes herself around his length.

“Mm, you like that?’

His response is in the way he thrusts his hips to meet hers’ – with wild abandon, and suddenly her little game of keeping control is forgotten.

Her hips match him pace for pace and it doesn’t take much longer for the bed to start creaking again.

His hands grip her tighter as she brings her hips up and then down on him again, keeping a loose hand clenched around the bed sheets for gripping as their pleasure comes altogether. And the passion that builds between them is bigger than just her - it’s hers and his blissfully jumbled into one.

She can’t think, she can’t breathe. There’s only just the primal urge to keep up with his thrusts, to reach the peak of how much she ca handle and a natural surrender of all her inhibitions as their gazes stay completely on each other.

When they scale to the very top, they ride it out going down to the bottom together. Collapsing into each other’s arms, endearments of I-love-yous as they tumble into the sheets, yanking them around each other like a cocoon as their bodies still slicked with heat and love bask in the aftermath of their love.

-

By the time they’ve left their room, it’s shy past five in the afternoon.

Maybe if Wren hadn’t just the best morning in her life, she’d care a lot more. But right now, the only concern Wren has is how much she wants to stuff her face with any food they can find as she leads Cal towards the kitchen of the hotel room.

They both freeze just in time to notice their other companions clearing out. There’s a bunch of small suitcases by the door and they’re all dressed in fresh clothes of slacks and shirts - smelling distinctively of vanilla bodywash.

Six pairs of eyes remain rooted to their spot.

At first – no one says anything. It’s quiet enough for a pin to comically drop.

Wren jerks her chin up, daring anyone to say anything.

Lily is the first to break the awkward silence, furrowing her brows before letting out an expletive. “Shit, it’s about damn time. We were starting to think you two were never going to leave.” She places a hand on her hip. “Check out time was like three hours ago.”

Cal clears his throat; his cheeks abruptly turning more than a shade darker thank his skin as Wren mutters a stiff apology. Okay, so she definitely gets where they’re coming from. Not only did they miss out on karaoke – they’ve been pretty MIA in general and this morning - that’s mostly been her fault. “Sorry guys, we’ll uh – pay the difference.”

“It’s fine, Adrian has already taken care of it.” Harlow responds quickly, elbowing Lily sharply in the side. “What I think my friend meant to say is, we thought we wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” She smiles, “it was a pleasure meeting you both despite the circumstances.”

Wren takes a few hesitant footsteps further into the common area, almost dragging Cal behind her. “I think that’s supposed to be my line. Seriously – thank you for all your help, and for putting up with us last night.” She adds before thinking better of it, “I would have probably still been searching the rest of New York for him.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.” Cal squeezes Wren’s hand as he regards the vampires with a slight nod.

Adrian inclines his head. “You’re quite welcome.” He reaches for the door and then pauses to peer back at them. “Would you mind passing down a message to Nik –” he gestures to them both with a flick of wrist, “tell him we’re even.”

“You bet.”

“Good. Well, I believe we’ve all gotten what we came here for.” Kamilah wastes no time to say goodbye; already stepping past the threshold of the door to find the elevator.

“Hey bloodsuckers,” Cal speaks up before they can all leave. Wren arches one critical eyebrow and he bites his bottom lip before adding. “Uh - if you’re ever in NOLA – look us up. You think it’s crazy over here? This has got nothin’ on us.”

Wren snorts in agreement. They’ve got no idea just how crazy it is up there.

Harlow and Jax share a look. “We’ll keep that in mind. Don’t forget to lock up before heading to the lobby.” With a parting smile, Harlow follows the rest of them out.

As the door slams shut again, Wren waits a few beats for their footsteps to fade before turning to Cal. “I like them.”

“I guess they’re alright, for bloodsuckers at least.”

She smacks his shoulder.

“Ah!” Chuckling, he snatches her hand before she’s able to punch him a second time and kisses the inside of her wrist. “I’m kidding, they’re alright – for anyone.”

“Good.” A crooked smile flits across her face, then falters into a frown as her stomach growls. “Okay, seriously – I’m really starving. What is up with that?”

He shoots her a bemused smile. “We did burn a lot of calories in that room.”

Another playful smack on his shoulder.

“But it’s also a wolf thing.”

“Ugh, figures.” Rolling her eyes, she snorts. “We should check-out and grab something on the way to the airport then. Ooh,” her eyes abruptly lit-up at a sudden idea. “Maybe this room came with a complimentary breakfast. Adrian seems like the type.”

-

The ride back to the airport is short but Cal feels tense about it the entire drive. Now that he’s going back without a plan, the enormity of what’s awaiting him in NOLA rests uneasily on his shoulders.

After Wren fills him in on how much he’s missed – he’s honestly just a bunch of knots and for the first time since becoming alpha; he doesn’t know where he stands with his pack. It was reckless for him to leave and foolish too. Wren’s been right to mock his choice.

Sighing, he closes his eyes for a moment and rakes his fingers through his hair. What the hell is he supposed to do now?

“Hey,” he hears the reassurance in her voice before he opens them back to shift his attention to her.

“I won’t lie to you and say it’ll be okay, because when I left – it wasn’t okay.” Wren takes a deep breath, reaching for his hand to give it a comforting squeeze. “But I’m here for you – and,” she visibly swallows, “for the pack. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”

Cal nods once, forcing a smile as he squeezes her hand back. “I hope you’re right.” He has a feeling if he doesn’t find a solution, soon there won’t be any pack left to protect.

-

[higuchimon]

[fanfic]  Unholy Desires:  Chapter 5

Tailmon wasn’t sure of how long she’d spent watching the apartment and the little girl in it. She knew that she needed to go elsewhere – to track down the Eighth Child. Those were her orders and she never failed an order or a mission. At least she hadn’t in a very long time.

The scar under her glove didn’t itch anymore. But she remembered when it had, when it spent months in healing.

“A reminder to obey me, at any cost,” Vamdemon-sama told her those many years earlier. It wasn’t the only one she had. What the gloves didn’t conceal her fur did. And when the scars weren’t seared into her flesh, they were seared into her heart.

She would have to do something soon. Either start searching again or leave her – leave here – to find a place to grab a little rest. Vamdemon-sama surely wouldn’t begrudge her a short catnap – except he probably would, unless she managed to get some results to bring him before that.

Tailmon cast another glance towards where Yagami Hikari played with her beloved cat. She told herself she wasn’t envious. She knew she was lying. It didn’t matter in the long run. If this girl was the Eighth Child,, then she wouldn’t be around much longer. And if she wasn’t – she probably wouldn’t be anyway, because Vamdemon-sama would kill them all eventually.

Before she could go much farther on that train of thought, she spied something moving through the air towards the apartment. At first she wasn’t sure what it was – only that it was reasonably large. Then she refocused and her eyes widened.

The Chosen? What are they doing here like that? And – with Wizarmon?

She wanted to head back to Vamdemon but before she could move far enough, Wizarmon turned towards her. He knew she was there; he’d been by earlier that night. And now he gestured towards her.

“What do you want, Wizarmon?” Tailmon flexed her claws. “And why are you associating with the Chosen Children?” Was this treachery? Did he intend to betray Vamdemon-sama?

Wizarmon floated closer to her. “I will explain it all to you. But please, come here.” He hovered in place and she tensed even more. If he wasn’t betraying them, then what was he doing? Was he leading them into a trap, or trying to?

She didn’t expect him to start talking about their first meeting or to stir up the memories she’d long since put to rest, about how she’d sought all of her life for someone, and never known who it might be. Until she found Vamdemon – or he found her – and he began to train her into being the perfect servant he wanted.

“What does any of that matter now?” Tailmon wanted to know. “What do you know that you’re not telling me, Wizarmon?”

“That I think I know who you’ve been searching for. You don’t want to obey Vamdemon – no more than I do. I’ve followed you, not him, all this time.” Wizarmon looked from her back to the Chosen on the balcony. She followed his gaze, realizing now that one of them, the one she thought was Hikari’s big brother, lay sound asleep, his partner hovering over him.

The small blond one held an egg tightly, while his own partner, evolved to Angemon, stayed at his side. And – wasn’t one of them missing?

Her eyes drifted over to Hikari again. Deep inside, Tailmon knew that she didn’t want to hurt the girl. Just the thought of Vamdemon getting anywhere near her made the fur on Tailmon’s back spike up and she wanted to lash out in the girl’s defense.

Oh. She wanted to protect her. She wanted to keep her safe.

She wanted to be her partner.

“Wizarmon,” Tailmon all but whispered his nae. He guided her over to Hikari, setting the Digivice in her paw – where had he got that from? It didn’t matter. All of her training told her that she needed to get away, back to Vamdemon-sama, telling him what happened, that she knew who the Eighth Child was.

All of her heart told her what to do and she followed it, unable and unwilling to deny her destiny when it stood in front of her.

“Hikari?” This time she murmured the name. Hikari had stood beside her sleeping brother, worry and fear in her eyes. Now she turned towards Tailmon, and warmth blossomed within.

“Tailmon?”

Tailmon held the Digivice out, and Hikari reached for it, their movements guided by something far deeper and far stronger than themselves. As Hikari’s fingers brushed across it, it lit up brilliantly, and the Chosen stared in awe.

“You are the Eighth Child,” one of the girls said. She glanced back down at the sleeping brunet. “Taichi’s going to love this.” She shook her head then adjusted the blue hat on her head. “So now what do we do?”

“Now we need to go find the Crest and Tag. Vamdemon has them.” Wizarmon pulled the one he’d been given out. “These are only fakes, though they are capable of reacting to identify Hikari. Do not trust anyone who has one of these that isn’t me or Tailmon.”

Hikari wrapped her mams around Tailmon – perhaps she’d already done so and Tailmon just hadn’t noticed until now – and looked at Wizarmon. “Can you help my brother?”

“All that can be done for him is wait until sunrise. If that’s when he was told to awaken, he won’t wake up any sooner. Vamdemon’s powers over those he’s feasted on are great, and I doubt that his spawn would be any different. But he should be fine when he does wake up.”

Tailmon wasn’t certain if she’d heard what she thought she did. “His spawn? He did something to the Child of Courage?” She could recognize them all now that they were close enough. She hadn’t spent as much time trying to get rid of them as PicoDevimon had but she could at least identify them.

“Yes and no. He turned the Child of Friendship – Ishida Yamato – into his vampire slave. And Ishida Yamato bit him,” Wizarmon said, gesturing towards the sleeping brunet. “I’ll explain more on the way. We have to get the Crest and Tag before Vamdemon returns to his lair.”

The redheaded Child of Knowledge shifted forward. “And what are we supposed to do?”

“Don’t follow us. You need to stay safe from Vamdemon until we can retrieve the Crest and Tag.” Wizarmon turned towards Tailmon. “And one of you should keep that Digivice until we come back with that. Be careful.”

Tailmon nodded, giving Hikari another hug. “I’ll come back soon. You watch over your brother. That would keep her safe – that was what Tailmon wanted and there wasn’t any way she was going to let Hikari follow her into the depths of Vamdemon’s lair.

Wizarmon helped her into the skies; she didn’t possess the power of flight, but he formed another of those enchanted spheres around her and the two of them set out for the lair. Part of Tailmon suspected if the brunet had been awake, then he would have followed them. He seemed like that sort of person.

But now she kept her focus on all the changes that had unfolded in the span of minutes and on what was going to happen. If things worked out even slightly close to good, then before dawn came they would at least have the tools to defeat Vamdemon. He couldn’t move around in the sunlight, so once the sun rose, they could bring the Chosen here and destroy him when he wasn’t able to resist as much.

“Wizarmon,” she said quietly as they crossed over the city. “What happened to the Child of Friendship?”

“Just what I said. I heard it from PicoDevimon, so I can’t say how accurate it is, but it’s obvious that Taichi was bitten by someone. Vamdemon would have turned him, but since he’s not, it had to be someone else.” He hesitated before he kept on. “His new spawn is a Healer – and I think ” Again, hesitation. Then Wizarmon continued. “I think he’s Piemon’s offspring.”

Tailmon was already a white cat Digimon, but now she knew that she paled even more. Her paws flexed. It had been some time since she’d last seen Piemon, but she remembered him vividly from when Vamdemon had her escort him on visits to the clown monarch.

“Does he know?” Then she recalled – times when Vamdemon stared a bit too intently at some of the Chosen. Old stories that she’d heard, about how humans and Digimon could do a thing and that meant the resulting entities were some sort of odd hybrid or half-breed or crossbreed or something. “Do any of them know?”

Vamdemon had watched the oldest one, the one with the blue hair, more than the others. She'd noticed one or two things off about him as well. Very subtle, perhaps not for human eyes to see, but no Digimon looked with human eyes. Before, when she’d had no humans to compare to, she hadn’t known what off could be. Now that she’d seen so many more, it began to slowly slot into place.

“In a way I believe that he does now. Or so I was told – it appears that he now refers to himself as Anbumon. What else he knows I can’t say. We’ll need to get him out from under Vamdemon’s control before we can find out anything.” Wizarmon floated along in silence for a little longer. “And we should tell the others once we have the time. They shouldn’t find out by Vamdemon telling them. Or worse, by Piemon telling them.”

Tailmon wasn’t going to utter a word against that. But she put that in the back of her mind for the moment as they approached the lair. One of Vamdemon’s Bakemon guards floated back and forth on march, but Wizarmon took care of him quickly enough with a claim that they were the next shift. With the key handed over into their grasp and Bakemon heading off for a good morning nap, the two of them approached the door cautiously.

“He’s either keeping it in his coffin or on himself,” Wizarmon said as they headed down the slick gray stone steps. Faint echoes of their footfalls came back to them, sending chills all up through Tailmon. She’d never noticed how empty and terrifying this place was before. Maybe it had something to do with not really belonging here now. As if she ever had.

“If it’s on him, then what do we do?” Tailmon wondered. That would be the worst case scenario. Worst case tended to happen a lot around Vamdemon.

“Then we do what we can to get it off of him as soon as possible. He’s gong to know that we did this.” Wizarmon approached the door and unlocked it, the two of them entering in carefully. There rested Vamdemon’s coffin, currently empty.

I wonder if he plans on making another one for his spawn? Tailmon knew that he didn’t sleep in this when they’d been at home. The sun didn’t cast its lights on his castle there. Vamdemon chose its placing for the fact those mountains remained dark at least the bulk of the day. He’d been safe no matter what. Here he had to remain out of sight of the sun. Would his spawn be the same way?

Wizarmon dug underneath the pillow and pulled out the Tag and Crest. Just the sight of it thrilled Tailmon and she couldn’t wait to get back to Hikari with this.

“Well now, what is this?” A voice she knew far too well – Vamdemon – spoke and she took a step back, turning towards the door. There stood Vamdemon himself, tall and imposing and filling every scrap of the door.

Perhaps even more terrifying was who stood slightly in front and to the side of him. She hadn’t even heard him approaching. He didn’t look quite as he had before – his hair now streaked with the telltale marks of a corrupted Healer and the smile his lips twisted into displaying a pair of fangs as sharp as Vamdemon’s. In his eyes there wasn’t a hint of mercy or compassion.

“I think we have a pair of traitors, Vamdemon-sama,” Anbumon said, his voice as cruel as that of his sire and his progenitor. “Do let me taste them.”

To Be Continued

Notes: I have to work through the important canon things before I get to the fun non-canon things like Anbumon and Taichi making out. Or whatever they’re going to end up doing. Vamdemon sadly won’t politely poof into dust to facilitate the shippy things. Darn vampire.

[isthisthingeven0n]

the series - part three : d.d

this has been so much fun to write so far and explore the depths of a series that doesn’t exist... yet??  thank you for all the support on this so far, and for understanding that this is kinda my main focus currently in terms of writing. other things are coming- just a bit more of a delay thats all :)

one / two / three / four / ending

Seven days ago everything I thought I knew is no longer true. 

I thought my boyfriend was someone completely different. I thought I was happy in my life with those around me. 

But now I’m wondering if everything I’ve been told is a lie. 

Tomorrow Shane is releasing part three for his series with David. At this point I feel like I’m chained to my TV, my phone is something I avoid glancing over at as I keep it face down on my kitchen counter. I don’t want to hear excuses, I don’t want to see his apologies or how he’s feeling from our friends. 

Right now all I want is to know the truth, and deal with the repercussions this will have on me. 

*

“How you managing?” I sip at my tea, trying to push back any emotions I’ve been drowning in over the course of a week. She raises her eyebrow as I avoid her gaze. “Y/n, I’ve known you for long enough to know you’re not okay.” 

I sigh loudly, defeated. “How did you know you weren’t in a good place with them?” I ask, now directly looking at her. 

She takes it in, and processes the question. I watch her fidget with her nails, and tuck her short hair behind her ear only for it to fall back in her face again. “I just didn’t feel connected anymore.” She states and I nod, knowing exactly what she means. “Shit happens, and I realised who was going to be there for me, and who wasn’t at the end of the day.” 

“Like with the whole Ricegum shit?” I ask, and she nods. 

“This sounds identical to my interview with Shane.” She laughs, and I remain quiet. I watch her hand reach out to mine, and I see it rest there but I can’t feel it. I’m numb. “Y/n, if there was anything I knew that I could tell you, you know I would.” She states and I nod. 

“I know you would. But Gabbie, do you know what Liza was on about with Shane?” She retracts her hand, and rests it around her other arm anxiously. 

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know all the details. But I know there was an accident, and a few people got hurt.” 

I swallow hard. “Did, did someone, did someone die?” I force the words out of my mouth, and blink back the tears that form too easily at this point. 

She shakes her head, and I let the tears fall in relief. “No one died. But, people got hurt, bad.” 

*

I’ve waited until it’s dark out. I know he won’t bother me now. He’s left me alone this long, he can wait a bit longer until I’ve seen my best friends side of things, a side she’s never really told me. 

The video starts with fans, content creators, commentary and drama channels chiming in on what they think of the series so far. Some don’t shy away from the backlash from fans, and others comment on my input on this so far. 

I see my face appear, a picture from my Instagram of the two of us. It was our most candid moment in Rome, I was so happy, I was so naive. 

“Why is Y/n taking a break from social media? Maybe the truth about David and Liza’s relationship was just too much to take or account for after all.” One voice speaks over a series of clips, comparing Liza and David to us now. 

The comparisons make my skin crawl. We are two entirely different people. 

I watch as the camera cuts to Shane sat down, he looks exhausted. “Well, a lot has happened that I didn’t anticipate in the past three days since we released part two.” He half laughs, as tweets and articles slide across the screen with a mix of hate and confusion as to what this series even is. 

“What do you want to do?” Andrew asks and Shane shakes his head.

“I mean, I didn’t go into this with a clear direction. But, all I know is that I want to explore who he is according to those around him. His girlfriend, his ex girlfriend, his best friends and his old friends too.” We all come up on the screen, and then lastly, Gabbie. 

A video montage plays of her featured in vines with David, and then videos she filmed with Liza and David. I see myself appear from vlogs with her, some dating to the past few months. “So, despite her not being friends with the vlogsquad, she’s still friends with Y/n?” Andrew asks and Shane tries to process what he just said. I faintly laugh to myself, realising how dumb it all sounds aloud. 

“I mean, if Y/n and Gabbie are really friends, how do they not address the massive elephant that follows them everywhere- and I don’t mean me, cause I’m not usually invited.” 

*

I shuffle on the spot, itching to grab my phone and see if he’s said anything. But I resist the urge as I pick up my water and resume the video. 

“I’ve known Gabbie for years. We’ve got an interesting relationship?” Shane tells the camera slightly perplexed. 

Andrew chuckles from behind the camera. “That’s one way to put it.”

“True. But besides that, we’ve been through some tough times together and she is her element. I mean, she’s got her music, her book, her channel all of it. It’s all working for her.” He lists off her accomplishments as photos appear of her transformation over the past few years, one that still amazes me every time I see her. “Yet, she’s never been more broken.” He states, flashing to a video of her having a breakdown, one I knew about all too well.

I remember she phoned me that night. She was done, she had had enough of everyone and everything. She didn’t know what to do, she was having a panic attack and she spiralled. I drove straight there and we sat on her floor for hours.

Forcing the memory back I focus on the video.

“So, we’re heading over to Gabbie’s now.” Shane tells the camera and then pauses, leaning against his table. “Oh my god, this is like a cute reunion for you guys.” Shane gasps, and it clicks. Gabbie and Andrew were friends.

A nervous laugh sounds from behind the camera. “Wow, I kinda didn’t see it as that, but yeah, I guess it is.”

“If it all goes well could have a date in store for you.” Shane nudges Andrew and he makes an incoherent noise between laughs. The camera cuts off, and the title sequence plays.

I try to ignore the happy grin on David’s face, as now I wonder if it is actually real or a good act he kept up.

*

When the camera turns back on, Shane has settled down with Gabbie who wears a bright smile on her face. One I know is her nervous smile. “So, we’ve had a catch up and talked off camera, cause well,” Shane looks to Gabbie who just nods. 

“Yeah, we had a shit ton to talk about.” She laughs and Shane dead pans the camera. “But it’s all good. Well, not why you’re hear but yeah.” She’s rambling, she’s doing a signature nervous Gabbie. 

“Come on Gabs.” I whisper to myself, wanting to hear what she has to say. I need to know if there’s more to all of this after all. 

I tried to piece together what was in the last video and what Gabbie told me already. 

An accident, someone, or multiple people got hurt. No one died, but it was bad. David was involved, and so was Liza. Gabbie was not present. 

Whatever it is, it’s haunting all of them in some way shape or form. 

“So, you knew David and everyone else from your Vine days?” Shane asks and Gabbie nods. 

“Yeah, it’s weird thinking back to those days. I just feel like YouTube has been my platform for so long now, it’s weird.” She explains about Vine, and how diverse it was to YouTube. “I’ve changed a lot since then, but I feel like some of them haven’t. I’m not naming names, as there is no point making drama or dragging anyone because of this. I just didn’t feel comfortable with all of them like I once did.” She states, and I nod along with Shane through the screen. 

“Did you feel as if you outgrew the squad?” He asks and then laughs to himself. “Sorry, still trying to take all of the ‘squad’ names seriously.” 

She chuckles before answering. “Yeah, kinda. I just didn’t feel the support was a two way street. I looked out for them, but I didn’t seem to get it back. It made me feel like I was just someone there in the background who wasn’t necessary.” She states and her joyful expression initially has died down, revealing how she really feels. 

Watching her talk about those I spend all my time with makes my heart ache. Clips play comparisons of her a few years back with everyone to her now, filming more on her own or with new friends where she is laughing. It’s not all a negative comparison, it’s more honest. 

“So there wasn’t any particular reason why you just drifted from them all?” Shane asks and Gabbie sighs. He knows more than she thinks. “Cause Liza told us about the incident.” 

Gabbie’s eyes widen. She looks to Shane who places his hand on hers and squeezes it lightly. “Can you, or are you able to talk about it a bit more?” He asks and she bites her lip, clearly hesitant to even mention it. 

“I honestly do not know.” She explains. “What happened was something I wasn’t involved in. Like, when it happened I wasn’t there, but I heard all about it. I was involved in the aftermath of it all and it was kinda like ‘keep quiet or you lose everything you’ve worked for.’“ 

Shane’s mouth drops. “Wait really?” He asks and she simply nods. 

“It was not good publicity whatsoever. Like, some people would not have the careers they have if it got out.” She says bluntly. 

“Okay, we’re going to talk a bit off camera, and then we’ll come back later.” Shane motions to Andrew who lowers his camera, Gabbie takes one last glance into the lens before it goes black. 

Standing up I listen to them talking in the background, he’s asking about her music, the meanings behind some of her songs and the influences they’ve had. 

I grab my phone, ignoring the typhoon of notifications and open my messages. I bypass everyone’s pleas and type a simple message to him. 

we need to talk. 

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records: Breaking America - Chapter Five

Word count: 1910

Playlist: Love It If We Made It - The 1975 Itch - Nothing But Thieves press play when you see the *’s

*It was a long few weeks learning to work together again. Josh had gotten so used to everything being so much easier considering Danny and himself were always so in sync that he forgot what working with Andy was like. Still, it was much easier to work with this version of Andy than the previous one.

They had started with Josh and Danny showing the redhead something they were working on, a deviation from the different sound that they had already created with just the two of them, and Andy’s strong heavy influences warped the sound even further into something they never thought they would be able to create. They had been good and had thought themselves good before, but this new sound was something else. Both Josh and Andy were singing this time, both of them using dual amping to create a new sound that they knew was going to kill the crowds.

Juliet and Victoria looked on as The Dangers changed from something that was good to something that was almost flawless, and it wasn’t long before they had booked them another show, this time at Islington Academy.

The show was the biggest that they had ever played, and although they were nervous it was hard to control the excitement that ran through all of them. Andy was more coherent before a show than anyone had ever seen him, and although he was jittery he was smiling, sipping water instead of whiskey.

“You okay?” Victoria smiled, sitting next to him and eyeing his bouncing knee.

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine I mean we’ve done this before like a hundred times right?” He looked at Victoria, the hue of her iris’ calming him a little and he smiled as she passed him another bottle of water.

“Exactly, and you’re even better now than you were then.” She rested a hand on his knee for a second to stop it bouncing and then stood, walking over to Josh who wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Break a leg tonight babe,” she smiled, running her nose along his and placing a soft kiss to his lips. “You nervous?”

He nodded, eyes darting to Andy as he whispered, “more nervous to be on stage with him like this. Never seen him like this before.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, he’ll be better once he's out there” Josh nodded, pushing strands of hair from her face and kissing her softly.

“I’m so in love with you.” He smiled, kissing her once more before he pulled back to grab his guitar.

“I’m in love with you too..” she smiled, kissing him softly and walking with Juliet out of the side door and into the crowd to watch them.

The crowd went wild when they saw the three men on stage together, and Andy felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest as he smiled out at the sea of people. This was why he did this. This was the only drug he ever wanted to be addicted to ever again.

*The Dangers launched into their first song without introduction, the lyrics a collaboration between Josh and Andy although they focused on Andy's addiction. He had found that a good way to deal with what he was feeling was to write about it. He felt incredible, the lights, the music, the grins on both Danny and Josh’s faces as they played song after song.

Victoria watched with Juliet in awe of the sound that the boys were producing. They were so tight and in sync, their flow completely right and their new sound feeling more like them than ever before.

As the band tore through their set, Victoria could feel the eyes of a man on her and Juliet. Turning, the redhead frowned as she saw a bald man with glasses dressed in a black suit leaning against the bar. It was obvious that this was not his comfort zone, both from his attire and the grimace that remained perpetually on his features each time Victoria glanced back at him. He hadn’t stared at the girls the whole night, was simply flitting from them to the band on stage, and while Victoria was sure that she had never met this man before something was familiar.

“Hey King?” She spoke directly into her friends ear as the music continued to rip through the crowd, “does that guy behind us work for Fieldworks? There’s something familiar about him..”

Juliet looked over her shoulder and shook her head, brow furrowing as the same thought ran through her mind. It was possible that they had hired a new agent that she didn’t know about, but she couldn’t imagine any agent coming to a show dressed like that, or any agent that would show up for fear of getting sued after what had happened in the office. She shook her head at her friend and sipped at her rum and coke as she tried to place the face, and it wasn’t until the end of the show when Andy and Josh were thanking the audience that they saw a wash on their faces which confirmed it.

They played their last song and then Andy moved from stage quicker than normal, uncharacteristically quick even for this new version of himself.

“Well done!” Victoria spoke as he walked toward them, and he smiled sheepishly before the man began to approach.

“That was very… interesting music.” The man spoke, his back too straight and his aura emitting something so comfortable that Juliet went to help Danny pack up his snare. “Not exactly something I should have flown over 5,000 miles to hear, but I suppose that’s not why you called me is it.” Victoria was about to join Juliet when she heard Andy's response.

“Thanks Dad..”

In Andy and Victoria’s short time together, the girl had found out that a lot of his problems stemmed from his relationship with this man. He had begun taking drugs because of the faltering relationship and continued to do so as much out of addiction as out of spite to his father. They had never had a healthy relationship, something that had become clear in short and sweet bursts of sincerity Victoria got from him. It shocked her then that he had flown to London after being called, and shocked her even more that he came to a show.

“Can I get you a drink Mr deMaine?” Victoria asked, clutching her empty whiskey and coke glass as she attempted to remove herself from what might be a horrible situation, one Andy didn’t want her to be a part of. The older man eyed the red-headed woman, eyes wracking over her with an expression that told her he did not approve.

“No, I won’t be staying long.” His voice was blunt, and she looked between the two men ready to leave the situation before the older man continued, “I thought that if I saw you perform I would have an idea of why you think it’s acceptable to spend thousands of dollars of my money to break a contract you didn’t have a lawyer look over in the first place. Instead of finding some fantastic orchestra, or even a band which had a hint of diversity, I have to come to this shitty venue and hear you play bass poorly to music that has no originality about it at all.”

“Dad I—“

“No, Andrew. This is utterly unacceptable. You think you can go around wasting my money on whims that you fancy and you haven’t even got any talent to back it up.”

Victoria’s brow furrowed at his father’s words, and she all of a sudden understood perfectly why Andy did as many drugs as he did. If she had to deal with a father like this growing up she would have been tempted to throw herself out of a window. To her surprise, Andy didn’t even respond. He stood looking past his father as he was chastising him, the deep sigh in his chest radiating how used to this he was. Maybe he had even heard this speech before.

“Andrew you must come home immediately and continue your classical education. This music is going nowhere for you, you aren’t diverse enough and you are clearly not cut out for this industry considering your stint in rehab.”

The allusion to his drug addiction was enough to make Victoria forget her place, and she shook her head before she spoke.

“With all due respect Mr deMaine, Andy is one of the most talented musicians I have ever seen and I’ve worked in the industry for long enough to know when a band is likely to make it.” Of course she only had a few months worth of actual experience working for a record label, but she had done work experience before that and had been researching cracking into the music industry her entire life, “and even if that wasn’t the case, I don’t think it’s fair of you to talk to your son like that about his addictions. He’s been through so much shit the last month that the last thing he needs is someone making him feel bad for it.”

Andy looked at the redhead completely stunned and totally unsure of how this was going to play out. He had never seen anyone stand up to his dad like that before, and when he had tried to in the past it has earned him a firm slap around the ears.

“Who on earth do you think you are, young lady?!” Andy's father turned, the look of disgust on his features deepening and she was glad to feel a familiar hand on the small of her back before she continued.

“I’m co-owner of the record label your son's band is signed to, sir.” She took a step forward as anger washed through her, totally unbelieving that a man could say such horrible things to his son and expect to get away with it, “The Dangers have been playing in London for under a year and are close to selling out their venues. That’s almost unheard of. You should be proud of your son rather than throwing in his face the one thing I’m sure is entirely your fault.”

She had overstepped and she knew it, hoped that Andy wouldn’t hate her for stepping to his father like that, but she had seen how much the older man had hurt him. Even though they had a rocky past, Victoria was not about to let someone who had hurt her friend so much get away with scaring him further, especially when he had been doing so well.

Love blossomed in Andy's chest as he watched her stand up for him, eyes softening completely as he struggled to keep a grasp on the fact that this woman was shouting at his dad.

“Well aren’t you the rudest little bitch.” Andy's dad spoke, and if it weren’t for Andy's hand on Josh’s chest the blonde would have made a move against his father. Josh had to hold himself back and remember that he was living rent-free in this man’s house, that Andy's home had sometimes been a refuge for both Danny and himself, albeit when Andy's parents weren’t home.

“Dad, thank you so much for all your help and thank you for coming to see us play, but I think it’s time for you to leave.” Andy stepped forward as Josh pulled Victoria back and his dad rolled his eyes.

“Gladly.”

[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 50

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

——— Negan’s POV ———

We load up our truck with all our weapons to head out to the meet with fuckin’ Eldritch. It’s a tight fuckin’ fit, but Eldritch said one car only. And I’m not gonna fuckin’ test him.

What the fuck am I even doing? I fuckin’ hate myself for rolling over and taking what Eldritch is doling out. I want to just fight him. Kill all his men. Be over and done with. But I just can’t. There’s that voice in the back of my head that refuses to gamble with Chuck’s life. I just fuckin’ can’t. So now I’m a fuckin’ impotent little pussy just allowing Eldritch to shit all over me. But I fuckin’ hope my men don’t see me that way. If they do, no matter how this shit ends, I might lose everything.

I head out with the same people I did before. Me, Dwight, and Arat are in the front of the truck and my two other saviors are in the back with the guns.

After a while, I cut the silence with a huff. “Well this is shitty.”

“Yeah,” Arat confirms. “But we’ll get the weapons back. Once we really show Eldritch what we’re capable of, he’ll go down fucking hard.”

“Exactly,” I say more confidently than I actually am. “You keep reminding the guys of that. That this shit is just a ploy to get Eldritch right where we want him.”

Arat turns to me. “They know that, sir. They know we’re gonna take that bastard down.”

“Good.” I rub my hand down my cheek. “I don’t need anyone thinking I’m weak.”

“We know you’re not,” Arat replies quickly. She was always one of my most loyal guys. “And I’ll set anyone fucking straight who says different.”

I chuckle. It makes me feel a little fuckin’ better that she’s got my back.

We pull into the area just like before and get flanked by Eldritch’s men. Just like before. They lead us to a spot and we park. They pull their guns, just like before and we start to exit the truck, my guys in the back included. Eldritch’s guys round us up to stand next to the truck before Eldritch comes out. When he does, he gestures to his men and they start to empty the back of my truck, moving the weapons into his own vehicles.

“I’m glad to see that you didn’t cause any trouble,” Eldritch starts with that smug fuckin’  grin on his face. “I was actually expecting a fight here.”

“There’s still time,” I say before fuckin’ thinking. I just can’t take his fuckin’ face and it make me want to lash the fuck out.

Eldritch chuckles, but I can see that he didn’t fuckin’ like me talking back.

“Where’s Chuck?” I ask before he can say anything about it.

“Not here. You didn’t think you’d get her back so soon, did you?”

I shoot that fucker a glare.

He pulls a picture from his pocket and hands it to one of his guys. That guy then walks over and hands it to me

I bite my fucking lip so hard that I taste blood when I look at that picture. Chuck is standing in the middle of a room in a fucking skimpy ass white nightgown. And she’s fucking crying. Her face is all red and her eyes are all puffy.

I shake my head. “You fucking touched her,” I growl between my teeth without looking up. Everything he probably did to my girl flashes before my eyes and I see red. “You fucking touched her!” I move to lunge for that fucking piece of shit Eldritch, but one of his guys fuckin’ pistolwhips me, making me drop Lucille, and tackles me to the ground. He can’t fuckin’ stop me from fighting, though. I’m in a fuckin’ rage and just punch and kick as hard as I can at anything that gets in my way. That is, until two more guys come over and finally hold me down.

“Calm down or you lose one,” Eldritch calls out calmly.

I look back to my own guys and see that they now have guns trained on the back of their heads. It makes me stop fuckin’ struggling. There’s no goddamn sense in me losing some of my best guys here.

I take a deep breath. “I’m fuckin’ calm. Let me the fuck up.” The guys get off me so I get up slowly, grabbing Lucille on the way. As I stand fully, I hear Eldritch fuckin’ laugh.

“You should be more careful, old man. I wouldn’t want you to break your hip.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter as I get pushed back to where I was standing.

“You have nothing to worry about, Negan. Why would I touch sweet Miss Charlotte? What would be the point? She’s already filled up with your baby.”

I glare back at him and seethe. “The fuck does that mean?!”

He chuckles. “I want what you have, Negan. I haven’t exactly been blessed like you.”

“Small dick?” I ask him immediately. I don’t fuckin’ know why. I’m just pissed off now and not thinking.

His smug expression falls and he glares at me. “You think you’re funny?”

I shrug. I shouldn’t be pushing his buttons, but it gives me a thrill to see that he doesn’t really have a fuckin’ comeback to that.

“I was saying,” he continues, trying to sound as nonchalant as he was, but I can tell he’s fuckin’ pissed, “my group hasn’t been blessed with the diversity yours has. I know that your community is roughly 50/50 men to women. Mine, however, is not. I only have about a dozen or so women, and even fewer of them can fulfill their ultimate duty and bear children. A few have their tubes tied. Some have iuds that we can’t take out. And a few more are under childbearing age. So we’ll have to wait.”

“What the fuck are you talking about you sick motherfucker?!” I spit out.

“Shut up!” Eldritch yells, barely fuckin’ restrained. I’m getting to him and that might be  fuckin’ dangerous. He takes a deep breath and puts that smug look back on his face. “If you talk back one more time, I’ll start dropping off your precious wife’s fingers to your doorstep.”

I glare back at him but don’t say another goddamn word.

“ Tribute is what I’m talking about, Negan. You will provide for me what I want from you. Food from your stores. All the medicine you have.” He smiles wide at me. “And ten of your women.”

My eyes go wide. “Absolutely not,” I call out as I shake my head, almost fuckin’ shocked. But I guess I fuckin’ shouldn’t be with this sick motherfucker.

“ That is what you owe me. And you will give it to me in one week’s time.”

“My people aren’t fucking cattle. Everything else, fine. I’ll give you that shit. But I sure as fuck am not gonna give you women to fuckin’ use!”

His face turns angry. “Then you’ll never see your woman again!” He pauses for a second then smiles at me like a fuckin’ snake. “And I know she’s fertile. I just have to wait, what, six months.”

“You sick son of a bitch!” Arat screams before I do and it stops me from fuckin’ going after him myself. That, and Eldritch’s guys moving toward me just itching to put me on the ground again.

“Ten women,” Eldritch reiterates, acting like he didn’t even hear Arat. “And I’ll even let you guys decide which ones. But they have to be able to get pregnant.” He finally looks over to Arat. “Maybe not this one. She’s got too much fight.”

I grab Arat’s arm and hold her back before she can bum rush that fucker like I know she wants to. Both to stop her from pissing Eldritch off and stop her from getting herself fuckin’ killed.

Eldritch laughs and looks around to his guys. “See?”

I can barely contain my own fuckin’ self, but I do. I fuckin’ hate this so goddamn much. There is no fuckin’ way I’m giving this man women to fuckin’ rape. No way in fuckin’ hell. But I have to say yes to him. Even if I have no intention of actually going through with it. I have to agree to it. Because if I don’t agree, he could run right back to Chuck and do god knows what to her. I already have no fuckin’ idea how he’s treated her. If he’s lying about not touching her...

Fuck! Even thinking about fake-agreeing to that shit makes me want to throw the fuck up.

“Okay,” I finally concede.

Arat whips her head to me. “What?!”

I hold my hand up to calm her the fuck down. I’ll explain it to her later.

Eldritch looks fuckin’ pleased as punch. “One week, we meet back here. And I’ll let you bring an extra vehicle to get all that stuff here.”

“I want daily updates on Chuck,” I call out before Eldritch can say his goodbyes. “Daily pictures so I know she’s still alive.”

Eldritch thinks about it for a second before he shrugs a shoulder. “Okay. I’ll send one of my guys here with a picture at noon.”

“I want extra proof. You could just have a bunch of fuckin’ pictures that you took the first day.”

“What proof?” he asks, a little fuckin’ frustrated.

I think. “I’ll write something on a piece of fuckin’ paper and you can take a picture with her holding it up.”

“Fine,” he says like he’s fuckin’ bored with all this. He gestures to his guys and they produce a piece of paper and a marker that they hand to me.

I start to write nice and fuckin’ big to fill the page up. “ There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark. ” I know Chuck’ll fuckin’ get what I’m trying to tell her with that. I just hope Eldritch won’t.

I give the paper back to Eldritch’s guy and we all get back into the truck to leave. Arat stares daggers into my fuckin’ face the whole time, but I don’t say anything until we’re away from Eldritch’s guys.

“I fuckin’ know-“ I finally start but she cuts me off.

“You can’t give him girls! You know what he’s gonna do!”

“I’m not giving him shit !” I yell back. “Least of all women! But it give us one week to get shit planned. One week to bring Chuck home and kill all those motherfuckers. No matter fuckin’ what, this shit ends before the week is fuckin’ done.”

I mean it. I really fuckin’ do. I have no goddamn idea how I’m gonna get Chuck the fuck outta that place so I can implement my plan and kill those fuckers, but I’ll come up with something. I have to. Because I am not gonna fuckin’ sacrifice a single goddamn thing more to that sick motherfucker and his men. Not food. Not medicine. And certainly not my fuckin’ people.

———   ———

 Chuck changes into her dinner outfit yet again. Another feminine dress. This one is lilac purple with a lace overlay. It’s pretty enough, and under different circumstances, Chuck would actually feel good wearing it. But right now, she absolutely hates it.

Earlier in the day, someone had led her to a locker room to actually shower for the first time in days. She was hesitant at first, not wanting to be any more vulnerable than what she already is. But she went through with it in the end, though it was the quickest, most stressful shower she’s ever taken in her life. Nothing had happened; no one had messed with her. But it was still unpleasant to think that she was so defenseless in there. When she had returned to her room, the dress was waiting for her on her bed.

She knows that dinner tonight is going to be horrible. With how excited Eldritch was yesterday to take Negan’s weapons, she’s sure he’ll rub it in today. She’s expecting him to be all smiles, but what she is treated to is something else.

She is, indeed, greeted by his smiling face when he opens her door, but it isn’t the same smile he had yesterday. It’s darker, more sinister, almost forced. And it scares her.

Instead of taking her hand and leading her to the conference room for dinner, he takes her by the wrist and pulls her there. Gone is all the presence of chivalry. He doesn’t pull her chair out for her to sit, but pushes her into it then takes his own seat. And when he eats, it’s not slow and polite, he stabs his fork into his food and shoves it into his mouth.

He’s angry. The meeting must’ve went badly. And that terrifies Chuck.

She ducks her head and takes small bites before she ends up just pushing the food around on her plate, her appetite completely gone.

Eldritch eventually breaks the tense silence. “You don’t want to know how the meeting went?” he coldly asks, not looking up from his plate.

She begins, “How was-“

“Perfect,” he hisses before she can finish. His tone contradicts his words, though. The meeting couldn’t have been perfect like he says if he’s acting like this. “I have all of Negan’s weapons. He’s completely powerless now.” He raises his head to look at her. “How does that make you feel?”

“Scared,” she answers truthfully.

He chuckles darkly then goes back to his food. “You should’ve put your hair up,” he mutters without looking at Chuck.

“I don’t have-“ She stops when Eldritch whips his head up to glare at her.

His eyes flick down to her plate for a moment. “Why aren’t you eating? Food not to your liking?”

She casts her eyes down, ready to answer, but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he screams almost immediately, which makes Chuck jump. His chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes it out and jumps up. He stomps over to Chuck and yanks her loose hair back so that she has no choice but to look up at him. “You eat what I give you!” he yells an inch from her face. “You eat when I tell you to eat!”

“I-I...” She starts to sob.

Eldritch growls and uses the hand not wrapped in her hair to swipe all of the dishes from the table, sending them crashing to the floor. He takes that hand and wraps it around her throat as he looks directly into her tear filled eyes.

A voice coming from the door suddenly calls out. “Eldritch.”

Eldritch lifts his head to the sound then lets go of Chuck. She looks in the same direction and sees Andy standing there with a piece of paper in one hand and a camera in the other.

Eldritch claps once, regaining his composure. “Perfect timing.” He’s trying not to sound angry, but he’s failing. “Come in, Andy.” Eldritch grips Chuck’s arm harshly and pulls her up from her seat. He wraps his arm around her back and squeezes her into him. “Give her the paper.”

Andy obeys and hands Chuck the sheet. For a moment, he looks into her eyes with sympathy, but it’s fleeting. He stands back and casts his eyes down, waiting for more orders.

“Hold the paper up,” Eldritch commands o Chuck and she does as she’s told. “Take the picture, Andy.”

Andy lifts the camera and presses the shutter button.

Eldritch leaves Chuck’s side to inspect the picture that Andy had just taken. As he does, Chuck turns the paper in her hands around and starts to read the page. It says, “ There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark. ” And it’s in Negan’s handwriting.

She smiles, not only because she’s holding a token from Negan, but because of what the words mean. It’s a quote from Lord of the Rings, from when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are trying to rescue Merry and Pippin after they were kidnapped by orcs.

  I think Negan’s telling me he’ll come for me. He’s going to find me and rescue me.

 She smiles wider at the thought of her husband. But it is short lived as Eldritch rips the page from her hand.

“What does it mean?” he growls.

“It-It’s a quote from my favorite book,” she explains, leaving out the secret message that Negan has sent her.

Eldritch chuckles darkly before throwing the page to the ground. “How sweet,” he says sarcastically before he grabs Chuck by the arm again and pulls her to exit the room. As they pass Andy, still standing in the same spot, Eldritch calls out over his shoulder, “Clean that mess up.”

As soon as Eldritch opens Chuck’s door, he shoves her in, making her stumble slightly. He pulls her up straight and unzips her dress, then shoves it down harshly.

“Turn around,” he demands and Chuck obeys.

She covers herself as much as she can, but she still feels so exposed under his gaze.

“Take the rest off.”

Chuck’s breathing hitches. “Please don’t-“

“Off!”

She goes to turn around, but he pulls on her arm to stop her. Tears stream down her cheeks as she looks up at him, trying to get him to empathize with her even just a little. But there is nothing like that in his gaze. His icy blue eyes reflect a predatory glint that has Chuck trembling even more.

Chuck takes a tiny step back and slowly unlatches her bra, allowing it to fall after she covers her breasts with her other arm. Even though she doesn’t want to even look at Eldritch, she stares in his eyes in an attempt to get him to see her as an actual person and not an object. He holds the eye contact until his eyes start to wander. Chuck wants this over with, so she removes her underwear quickly and covers herself with the other hand.

Eldritch stares at her body for a long while. Long enough that it has Chuck’s anxiety spiking.

“Please don’t hurt my baby,” she pleads quietly.

Eldritch’s eyes instantly snap to hers then he walks closer to her. Chuck can’t stand it, being that close to him. She squeezes her eyes shut waiting for whatever is going to happen to happen. But when she hears the door open and slam shut, she opens her eyes. Eldritch is gone and he took her discarded clothes, leaving only the familiar nightgown on the bed.

 ——— Negan’s POV ———

I’m back on the road the next morning headed out to meet Eldritch’s fuckin’ guy to pick up my picture of Chuck with my usual four guys in the car with me. But we’re not in our fuckin’ normal car. Since Eldritch and his men believe that we don’t have any fuckin’ weapons, we’ve suped up the car with all kinds of fuckin’ hiding places and filled them with guns and ammo. Because there’s no fuckin’ way I’m going anywhere without goddamn protection. Besides, Eldritch’s guys have never searched our vehicle, so why the fuck would they start now?

We pull up and go through the familiar fuckin’ routine. Instead of being met by Eldritch, though, it’s some other fuckin’ douchebag with an equally smug goddamn grin on his ugly ass face. He hands me the picture and I’m fuckin’ pissed at what I see.

Eldritch has his arm wrapped tightly around Chuck. It makes my fuckin’ blood boil that he has his hand on her. Even more so when I see that her cheeks are wet from crying.

I shove the picture in my pocket and turn to fuckin’ leave without saying shit. If I stay here one more goddamn second, I’m gonna kill every motherfucker here.

“Six days, Negan,” the guy taunts me, but I don’t fuckin’ acknowledge it. I just keep fuckin’ walking back to the car.

The drive back home seems so fuckin’ long today. And I feel like utter shit, mentally and physically. At any second it feels like I could simultaneously scream my lungs out and fall asleep. I haven’t slept much in the last few days. And fuckin’ eating hasn’t been a priority, either. Just what Simon puts in front of me and forces me to eat.

We pull back into The Sanctuary and I don’t say a fuckin’ thing to anyone. I walk through the halls, fuckin’ ignoring everyone and everything around me. When I make it onto my floor, I go straight into my bedroom. There’s no one up here now. Even the cats got moved downstairs with the wives. Well, former wives.

This place is empty. Dead. And it sure as fuck feels that way. Especially without Chuck.

I walk through my door and pause by my nightstand. The other Polaroids of Chuck are propped up on the base of my lamp there. I dig the newest picture out of my pocket and set it beside the others, running my eyes over them. It fills me with fuckin’ rage to look at them. To see that she’s upset. To know I can’t take care of her right now. But I still need to see her.

“I’m gonna get you back, baby girl. I promise,” I whisper and run my finger over her face in the newest picture.

I turn and set Lucille on my side of the bed, her barbed wire resting on my fuckin’ pillow, but I don’t care about it right now.  Pulling my glove off, I walk over to my coffee table to set it there then throw my jacket on the couch. I must look like one of the fuckin’ walking dead shuffling around like this. But I’m just so fucking tired.

I find myself standing in front of the crib in the nursery, blood still on the fuckin’ wall, ruined carpet still blood stained in the center. I turn my head and see Chuck’s rocking chair with the blanket she knitted sitting on it. She had given it to me when she got it fuckin’ done. Told me to put it where it belonged.

I bend down to pick it up. God, it still smells like her. I press it into my face and breathe it in deep. Fuck, I start to sob. Fuckin’ sob . My wails muffled by the blanket. I haven’t fuckin cried like this since I watched Lucille take her last goddamn breath.

Fuck.

After I get that shit out of my system, I bring the blanket back out to my room and lay with it on Chuck’s side of the bed. I clutch the blanket to my fuckin’ body as the last of my tears drip down my face and leave wet spots on the pillow.

 I must’ve nodded off because I’m fuckin’ dreaming now. I know I am. It happens every once in a while, usually when something fuckin’ outlandish happens that clues me off to this not being fuckin’ real.

I know I’m fuckin’ dreaming in this one because I’m walking into my old house and the world isn’t turned to shit. Plus, I’ve had this exact dream before, many times. Just not in the last few years. Not since I started to build The Sanctuary.

I walk into my kitchen and see two kids, a boy and a girl, sitting at the table working on their homework. My kids. The kids I never had but always wanted. As I walk past the boy, who’s about nine, I ruffle his black hair.

“Daaad!” he yells and tries to get his hair back in place.

“You get into trouble today?” I throw over my shoulder as I open my fridge to get out a beer.

He doesn’t fuckin’ answer me, so I turn to look at him. He gives me that same innocent look I’m sure I’ve given his mother a million fuckin’ times. It doesn’t help that he looks just fuckin’ like me. All except the gray eyes he somehow got from my mother.

I give him a stern look. “What’d you do?”

“It was Danny’s fault. He was being a dickhead!”

“Hey! Watch your fuckin’ language!” I correct him quickly.

“Well, he was,” he mutters under his breath.

His sister beside him, who’s about twelve, giggles and I look at her. She’s covering her mouth with her hands, trying not to laugh, but I can see her dimples sucking into her cheeks. Thant’s the only thing she got from me. The rest of her is a spitting image of her mom. All wild red hair, chubby cheeks, and freckles. And big green eyes.

Green eyes. They were always blue before.

I walk over and kiss her on the top of the head. “Where’s your mom?”

“Doing laundry,” she answers.

I take another swig of my fuckin’ beer and set it on the counter before I head to the laundry room.

This is where I always wake up. But I don’t this time. I go down the hallway to a laundry room that we didn’t fuckin’ have in this house since the washer and dryer were in the fuckin’ garage. Before I get to the room, I hear her voice singing softly. A song she always seems to sing when she thinks no one is around her. I don’t even know what the fuck it is, but I have it memorized just the way she sings it.

It’s my most favorite sound.

I get to the doorway and stop. I don’t fuckin’ want to. I want to rush in and hold her. Just stay there with her like this and never wake up.

But I can’t for some fuckin’ reason. I just stand in the doorway and look at her. Look at her belly which looks like it’s about eight months pregnant, much bigger than the last time I saw it. Somehow, there’s a window behind her letting the sunlight go through her hair as it falls around her shoulders. And it’s the most beautiful sight I think I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.

“Chuck?” I call out, but she doesn’t turn to me. “Chuck?” I try again, but she doesn’t hear me. “Chuck, please.”

A voice comes from behind me. “Negan.” It’s not Chuck’s voice. It doesn’t have the same sweet, pleasant tone hers has. It’s deeper, has a rasp to it. But it did always soothe me.

“Negan,” she says again and I turn around.

“Lucille,” I answer.

I always fuckin’ hate dreaming about her. Mainly because she always looks like she did the last time I saw her. When she was dying in her hospital bed. Bald. Eighty five pounds. Grey skin. Sunken features. I hate thinking about her that way.

But how she is standing before me isn’t fuckin’ like that. She looks like she did a few years before she died. Healthy. Smiling. Alive . Hair in a ponytail and wearing the outfit she always wore when she gardened. With those short black pants that were too short for pants and too long for shorts that I can never remember what she called. And that floral short sleeved shirt in pink that I always thought made her look so cute.

“I’ve missed you, Negan,” she says with a smile.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Lucille,” is all I can say.

She quirks her head to the side. “Why are you sorry?”

“For fucking everything up. For being the worst goddamn husband until it was too late.”

“Oh, Negan.” She puts her hand on my cheek and I swear I fuckin’ feel it as if it was real.

“Are you punishing me?” I whisper.

“I’m not punishing you, Negan. You and I both know that no one could punish you more than you punish yourself.”

I look down. “I should be punished.”

She lifts my face to look at her. “You made mistakes. I did, too. But I never loved you any less.”

“I never deserved you. You were always too good for me.”

She smiles. “If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

I look into her eyes. Those piercing blue eyes I always loved. “Would you want me to fall in love again?”

“Of course,” she answers like it’s obvious. “I want you to be happy.”

“Would you want me to have a kid with her?”

She grabs ahold of my face with both hands. “ Yes , Negan. I wanted for you to be a father more than anything. I wanted to give that to you. But I couldn’t.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” I tell her quickly.

“It wasn’t meant for us. But it was meant for you and her.”

“I don’t believe in that shit.”

Her lips quirk up in a smirk. “Just because you don’t believe it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“You’re just saying what I want to hear. You’re just that fuckin’ voice in my head trying to make me feel better about being a fuckin’ asshole.”

She tilts her head and purses her lips in that way she always did when she was gonna call me out on my bullshit. “Since when has the voice in your head ever made you feel any better?”

I shrug weakly. “Never. But you’re still just a dream.”

She rubs my cheek softly. “I’m not just a dream, Negan. I’m here to give you strength. The strength to get through this. And I’ll always be here for you.”

I stare at her, not knowing if that’s fuckin’ true. This feels fuckin’ real. More real than any other dream I’ve had. But it can’t be. Can it?

She moves her hands down to grab ahold of my own. “You’re good with her, Negan. She saved you just as much as you saved her. Even if you don’t see it that way. She brought you back to life. The real you. Not the man you became after I died. And I love her for that.”

I look away again. “I might not ever see her again.”

She moves my face back to hers. “You will.”

“You can’t know that.”

“It’s already happening.”

I scrunch up my face in confusion. “What is?”

Before she can answer, Chuck’s voice calls out from behind me. She sounds fuckin’ scared.

“Negan!”

I flip around and the sight jolts me fuckin’ awake. But it sticks in my brain for a few seconds. It’s not the way Chuck looked just a little bit ago folding towels and just about ready to pop. No. It’s more the way she looks now. And she’s barefoot and wearing that goddamn white night dress. But she’s covered in blood.

As I become more aware, I realize that I have Lucille grasped in one hand and the blanket clutched to my chest in the other. And it’s dark in my room. I guess I slept until after sundown.

I jump a little when my lamp flicks on and I see Simon standing there.

“You okay, brother?” he asks quietly.

“Shit,” I growl and drop Lucille to the bed to rub at my eyes.

Simon takes a deep breath. “Something’s happening.”

“Happening?” I repeat and sit up more fully. That’s what Lucille said in my dream.

“The guys on the tunnel said a bunch of cars came speeding out like a bat outta hell and went in all directions. I got guys posted all along the fence waiting for an attack.”

“Attack?” I’m finally fully awake. “Anyone see anything yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Why would Eldritch fuckin’ attack now when he thinks he’s gonna get more shit from us.”

“I don’t know. What else could it be?”

I scratch at my chin. “I don’t fuckin’ know. Keep the guys on alert just in case. But I don’t think this is an attack.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll deal with it, brother. Just rest up, okay?”

I nod. Normally I would push through my own shit to take care of everything myself, but that dream has me fuckin’ shaken.

Simon leaves and I just sit there trying to make sense of everything. What was Lucille talking about? In my dream she said something was happening. And then something is happening. Am I in-fucking-sane for even listening to a goddamn dream? Maybe I just want to believe that this’ll all be fuckin’ over soon and I’ll get my girl back. You know, grasping at straws.

I let out a sigh and shift my fuckin’ legs causing Lucille to roll off the bed and fall to the floor. As I lean over the goddamn bed to pick her up, the baby blanket falls from the bed, too and completely covers Lucille. I pick them both up, one in each hand and stare at them.

I shift my eyes from the blanket to Lucille, then raise my head to the ceiling with closed eyes. “Lucille, give me strength,” I whisper.

[lonnyrocketreviews-blog]

Rupaul’s Drag Race Season 10 Power Rankings - Ep. 8, (Cher) The Unauthorized Rusical

Fair warning, my brains are still scrambled from last week. This show is going crazy! It’s chaos! It’s so unpredictable! I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like I just need to...snap out of it!

Actually, with the exception of Kameron winning, I found this episode to be pretty predictable. This episode was pretty much just filler so we could get rid of the Vixen, and we did. Huzzah!

7. The Vixen Ding dong the bitch is dead. This elimination was written on the wall and was only delayed by a week because Monique bombed so hard last week. It didn’t matter what anyone else did this week or who was going up against her because NO ONE survives a 3rd lipsync in a row. Ru seemed like she was itching to get rid of her. Before, I thought there was an outside chance the Vixen could’ve made it to the end, but she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be an evil villain or a whiny victim, and she just came off as volatile and childish. Her rage wasn’t focused, and her drag needs a ton of polish. Obviously, the season’s gonna be a lot more relaxed from here on out. No one’s gonna have to walk on eggshells anymore. There will probably not be any fights going forward, but I’m fine with it. We got enough this season, I think. Thank you Vixen for bringing chaos back to the show and Untucked. We loved to hate you. RIP.

6. Asia O’Hara Asia has been going up and down throughout the season, so it’s hard to know where she stands. After performing pretty poorly 2 weeks in a row, I have no other choice but to put her low. I’m not sure if she’s going home NEXT, but she’s in a really rocky spot right now. Her Beyoncé was bad. Her Cher was bad, and the next challenge is just acting, but she might squeeze through. In the only challenge she won, she got by on silly faces and ugly makeup, not great acting, so I’m a little nervous. After looking back through their track records, I may have overrated Asia a little bit before. Even though she has one win and some great moments throughout the season, she’s the only one who has been consistently low the last couple weeks, which is a bad omen for next week. I’ma be bummed if she goes next, but it’ll pale in comparison to the shock of the Snatch Game episode. Only the Twist will top that.

5. Kameron Michaels I didn’t expect Kameron to ever get a challenge win, but I didn’t expect Aquaria to win Snatch Game either. Next week is acting, which isn’t Kameron’s strong suit, so I refuse to put Kameron any higher despite winning this week. I initially would have put Cracker below Kameron, but Cracks is a good actor and Kameron isn’t (maybe knowing what the next challenge is would be considered cheating for the purposes of writing power rankings but fuck you I do what I want). I actually think the win for this Cher challenge should’ve gone to Cracker and not Kameron. Even though KM has a surprisingly good voice, Cracker was funnier, had harder choreo, and a MUCH better runway look. Kameron’s look was kinda basic. On the other hand, Kameron is finally finally getting some interesting narrative. I actually do kinda like the bitch. She’s thoughtful, reserved, and seems genuinely kind and humble. It’s actually really interesting to see a queen this quiet go this far, and it’s refreshing to have someone there who isn’t such a loudmouth. I feel for Kameron, and I’ve come around on her for the most part since the season began, but I still don’t think she’s gonna go to the end.

4. Miz Cracker Cracker always gets so close, but never quite nabs the win. I don’t really agree at all with the judges’ negative critiques about her this week. Breanna slayed. There’s always next week! It’s weird how Cracker and Aquaria have had this role reversal since episode 1. I think when the season began, most people were gunning for Cracker over Aquaria, but now it seems like Aquawoman is a true fan favorite and Cracker is getting kinda written out. Shit’s nutty. I’m still crossing my fingers for my girl. I think she deserves top 4, but maybe not top 3. She hasn’t won a challenge and is rarely in the top, even in comedy challenges. I dunno. It’s unfortunate but I don’t see her winning after all.

3. Monet X Change Another strong week for Monet! Cool. There’s still a few episodes left and no stupid Twist yet, so I GUESS something crazy could happen, but if things go as they should, she’ll likely be in the top 3 next to Aquaria and Eureka. I think that’s a pretty nice looking top 3. It would have been more interesting to have seen Monique up there instead, but I’ll take what I can get. The top 3 should be diverse but strong all around, and I think Monet has that......well except for her looks. Monet X Change has to have the absolute worst looks out of everyone this season. Her outfit this week was REAL bad, but her Cher was real good, and she’ll probably be fine next week.

2. Aquaria Can someone actually explain to me what Aquaria did to her eyes? That shit was incredible. THAT’S commitment. In the looks department, I’d put Aquaria up into the highest echelons next to Raja and Violet Chachki, the most fashionable queens of all. I’ve never seen a queen with such an artistic eye before. It blows my mind. She may have been “low” this week, but she made it through this, one of the harder challenges, and I can’t envision any possible ending that doesn’t have her in the top 3. You know she’s gonna murder the finale looks, too.

Check out this video. Things like this look are why she’s a frontrunner: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WESAj_lQHPs

1. Eureka That dress made me scream. It was EPIC. This’ll probably be the closest she comes to the bottom for the rest of the season. It really doesn’t matter what Eureka does from here on out. Even when she stumbles, she still gets more and more backstory. Every thing not to like about Eureka comes with a good story behind it. I dunno if she’s polarizing or not; most people I’ve talked to have said she’s among their favorites, or they at least recognize she’s going to the end. It’s obvious. I don’t have much else to say about her. I’m just gushing over that  fucking gown.

Some other misc. notes: - Black queens are gonna get judged more harshly in a Cher challenge. - No one did that great (at least in the judges’ eyes) so Kameron won by default. - Assigned roles are bullshit. Asia shoulda gotten to pick who did what since she won the mini challenge.

If the Twist isn’t next episode, I’ma be EXTREMELY nervous beyond that. I know some stupid bullshit fuckery is on the horizon. I feel it in my bones. I think the only one -truly- safe no matter what happens is Eureka. What I fear most is a stupid lipsync tournament. Shea Coulee and Trinity Taylor were robbed. I want this to be a good, fair battle between the top THREE queens. Season 9 had a top 4 finale. That’s a THIRD of the contestants in the finale. Shit’s stupid. Narrow it down so I can really gun for one of em.

[cecilspeaks]

112 - Citizen Spotlight

If you see something crawling across your floor in the dark, don’t worry. It’s probably just a tarantula. Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, in this fast-paced world of community radio and local news, I think we’ve lost sight of the truly important thing: the individuals who make up our diverse community.

So today, I want to try out a new segment I've put together called Citizen Spotlight, in which we will profile a randomly selected citizen, diving deep into who they are, and maybe discovering some things about ourselves along the way.

Oh, here’s an intro I’m working on for it.

[very deep, menacing voice] Spotlights, roving in the night. Hunting. Closing in. But everything is backwards. The night is hot and bright. The spotlights are deep and black. Everything they touch turns to darkness. They are searching for the light. They consume it.

[chipper voice] That’s a rough draft. I’m open to notes. Anyway, today’s inaugural spotlight was curated by closing my eyes and pointing in the phone book. And so today, we will talk about Sigrid Borg. She’s a brand new citizen who has just arrived in Night Vale. I have hear this classified dossier, we had a team of heist experts – thanks, Janice – steal from the Hall of Public Records. The dossier says that Sigrid was relocated to Night Vale as part of a witness protection program, and that Sigrid is not her real name. Nor is she of the Scandinavian origin her name might suggest. Thus all of the information we managed to obtain on Sigrid for this segment is fictional, created by a government software program to ensure her total anonymity, and in no way represents who she really is as a person. In all probability, it is in most ways the opposite of her true identity, but for safety, it’s important that we all believe this made-up biography is absolute fact. It is extremely, extremely important. She would be in great danger if anyone from the outside world started to doubt who she claimed to be.

We’ll get to our Citizen Spotlight momentarily, but first, as a way to make Sigrid feel more at home, I’ve asked other Night Vale citizens to reveal a dark secret that they’ve never shared. I will be reading those throughout today’s broadcast. The first comes from Susan Escobar, second grade teacher at Night Vale elementary school. She writes: “One night, I was at school late grading homework, and I heard strange sounds coming from the cafeteria. When I looked inside, I saw a giant mandala on the floor made entirely of frozen fish sticks. It seemed to be undulating and alive. When I blinked, it vanished. But every night I dream of flying toward a cloudless sky, and in the center of that sky is that fish stick mandala. And I wake before I reach it, but each dream a little closer. And the night that I reach that mandala in my dream is the night I will die.” Thanks Susan! Sounds fun.

Now let’s talk about Sigrid. Though new to town, Sigrid Borg was born in Night Vale and has lived here her entire life. Her parents were immigrants from the picturesque Swedish port city of Halmstad. She tries to go back at least once a year to visit her grandparents, a retired grade school teacher and a retired timber farmer, who have a lovely cottage overlooking at the mouth of the Nissan river, where it meets the North Sea. Sigrid has always been close with her grandparents, though in recent visits, has become distressed at her grandmother’s increased mental confusion and grandfather’s drinking habits. She doesn’t call them as often she used to and feels guilty about that. She’s torn between the desire to take more responsibility for their health and well being and the desire to block the situation out of her mind completely, as it has become a signifier of the irrevocable loss of her own childhood, and a direct confrontation with morality itself.  

Sigrid’s favorite food is smorgåstårta, a Scandinavian layer cake that is made of sandwiches and fish paste. Ask her to make it for your next big event. She’s been carefully drilled by her witness protection handlers on the foods of her childhood, and has almost got the hang of making them, although she has failed to acquire a taste for fish paste.

Some fun facts that you may not know about Sigrid, despite having lived in the same town with her all your lives. She has a degree in marine hauntology from an online university. She has a disorder that makes it impossible for her to sweat or cry. She has served on the board of the Sand Wastes Conservation Fund for six and a half years. She is deeply embedded into our community and way of life.

And now, another confession from a local resident about a dark secret. This one from my dear friend Earl Harlan. It reads: “On a Boy Scout training maneuver near the old dirt road, I witnessed the apparition of my 10-year-old self wearing the scout uniform of my youth. He trained with us all afternoon, and I tried not to give him any preferential treatment. As the afternoon passed, new memories appeared in my mind of training at 10 years old with a group of strangers, one of whom seemed familiar and stared at me constantly in horror.” That’s adorable! Thanks, Earl!

Back to Citizen Spotlight. Sigrid spent her childhood in the Hefty Sycamore Trailer Park near downtown. She didn’t have many friends; she was shy in school. One year, she tried out for a solo in the school holiday pageant. For the audition, she sang a Flakey-O’s jingle that was very popular at the time, but no one took her seriously. They all thought she was making a joke. She apologized and faded back into the bleachers. She truly loved that jingle. It spoke to her soul, it made her feel something. She recorded it off the radio and listened to it often, rewinding and replaying it out at the picnic table on summer nights, when the rest of her family was asleep. But she never listened to it again after the solo tryouts, because it only brought back the sound of the other kids laughing, of her teacher’s scolding voice lecturing the class to take themselves seriously, or no one else would. And it made her feel ashamed. She eventually recorded over the tape with audio from a TV special about orphaned lion cubs. But sometimes, under the hungry sucking sounds of giant kittens drinking from baby bottles, she thought she could still hear the song.

In 7th grade, she finally made some friends during the unknown creature dissection unit in science class. She wasn’t squeamish, and her ability to identify and extract misshapen internal organs without flinching made her an attractive lab partner. Everyone thought she was new in town because they had never noticed her before. She still has that effect on people. In the spring of that year, someone asked her to to the junior high dance. The team was “heat death of the universe”. The boys spent a lot of time licking the crepe paper decorations to dye their tongues bright colors and impress the girls. The girls were not impressed, but laughed anyway. Sigrid’s date tried to lick her hand to see if the dye would come off on her skin. This caused Sigrid to feel a surge of strange tingling panic, and she fled to the bathroom for 30 minutes. Her friends eventually found her and dragged her back into the gym. She danced with them for the rest of the night, hiding from the boys with the blue tongues.

There were bountiful crops that year. Some say this was not a coincidence. Some say the junior high dance is a secret crop fertility ritual outlined in the town charter, but kept secret from the children who participate. When the dance was cancelled in the following years, due to the crepe paper dye related poisoning incident, Night Vale experienced extreme drought and locust plagues. Some say this, too, was not a coincidence.

A quick bulletin board reminder: the reinstated junior high dance is coming up! May all you young citizen make lush and plentiful memories, and have a cornucopia of fun.

More Citizen Spotlight soon, but first, The weather. 

["Try Try Try" by Rachael Sage]

Another secret confession. Ah, what a treat! This one comes from iconic local celebrity and recent donut food truck entrepreneur, Lee Marvin. It says: “There is a void. Within that void a light. Within that light, a hand. Within that hand, a movement. Within that movement, a potential. Within that potential, everything that ever was.” Thank you Lee, and of course, a happy 30th birthday to you today!

Citizen Spotlight time. In high school, Sigrid’s left hand started to itch below the pinky finger. A small lump appeared which grew slowly over time. She became self-conscious about this and wore bulky sweatshirts with long sleeves pulled over her hands, which was luckily a fashionable look then. The nurse at the health clinic assured her that it was nothing to be concerned about, but it kept growing. Eventually, it took the shape of what appeared to be a second, smaller pinky finger. She was even able to wiggle it if she concentrated very hard. As you may know, the Hefty Sycamore Trailer Park was built on the dried-up shores of the old pesticide waste river, and Sigrid’s father felt there might be some connection between this and the extra finger. They decided to relocate.

They moved into a two-story house by the train tracks, a fixer-upper that shook on its foundation twice a day when the train came through, and once or twice erratically every night when the secret night trains passed, with their nameless and unspeakable cargos. Sigrid’s parents began to fight often, never having the money to fix up the fixer-upper, and they both spent as much time as possible away from home. Sigrid had a complicated relationship with her extra finger at this point, partially blaming it for the rift in her parents’ relationship. Once, when Sigrid was alone in the house, she heard something creeping up the stairs. She hummed the Flakey-O’s jingle til she couldn’t hear it anymore, and then she started spending a lot more time away from home also.

There was a small group of kids who hung out around the train tracks at night, so she started hanging out with them to avoid going home. They liked to smoke cigarettes and light off fireworks and dare each other to look at the secret night trains, although none of them ever did, as they all knew that to look at one of those trains meant an instant and painful death. They would talk and gossip about kids and teachers she’d never heard of before, and she began to wonder if they even went to her school. When she was hanging out with them, she would often glance up at the dark windows of her own empty house just down the tracks and see movement behind the glass. Or soft white eyes staring out.

During one of these movements, while she looked at the house, all her friends disappeared and she found herself alone on the tracks. No sign of the teenagers that had been there mere seconds before. She never saw those kids again, but she often heard their voices in portable radios on the wind, and she spent her evenings wandering up and down the tracks, looking for them.

At the end of senior year, the high school yearbook featured fun awards for each student, voted on by the class. Smartest girl and tallest boy and most likely to survive a mass extinction event, and best smile. Every single student received a commemorative award, except for Sigrid. It wasn’t intentional or out of spite. Everyone forgot that she existed. She was inexplicably absent during every school picture day throughout the years. Never participated in any extracurricular activities, didn’t speak up in class, got average grades, and ate lunch alone. Which some say contributed to her lack of memorability. But she was there, and is here, and always has been. She belongs here. It’s totally normal to forget someone you know, but you do in fact know her. Some of you know her very well.

One time you went thrift store shopping together, and she picked out a jacket for you that was too big, but she said it looked great on you. It was fuzzy and resembled furniture upholstery. Royal blue with gold stripes. The lining was ripped. She bought it for you. You found that old jacket recently, royal blue with gold stripes, you put it on. It almost fits now. You felt something that you hadn’t felt before, sticking against your ribs, tucked into the ripped lining. You reached inside and you pulled out a piece of notebook paper, folded into a hard little square. It was from Sigrid. It described a thing that she shouldn’t have seen, and couldn’t speak about. It instructed you to burn the note immediately, and you did. It instructed you to never acknowledge to her that you even received it. You can never tell anyone what the note said.

If you do run into Sigrid, remember that she is a real person filled with blood and misshapen internal organs, just like you and me. Everything I have told you about her is completely true. Well, none of it is technically true, but it was crafted by state of the art technology to evoke a range of 1-4 feelings in the listener. And as we all know, feelings are real, and truth is in the mind of the beholder. And the beholder lives out in the scorched orchard under the floorboards of the old cherry-picking stack.

Stay tuned next for a mysterious distress signal that requires urgent action, but is impossible to locate.

On behalf of everyone here at Night Vale Community Radio, welcome to your new town, Sigrid – the town where you have lived your entire life.

And to everyone else: Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Be yourself. As if you had any choice in the matter.

[mldrgrl]

A Fish Tale

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Hank has a visitor as he prepares for the nuptials

It was times like these that Hank wished he’d still smoked.  He’d drummed his fingers on top of the desk in Karen’s office so much that he’d even annoyed himself and he had to stop.  The piece of paper in front of him was still blank after almost an hour of trying to fill it.

He thought it would be easy to write his vows.  Well, not his vows, per se, but whatever one would call that part of the ceremony where the bride and groom might want to say something about each other.  He had so many things he wanted to say, but they just wouldn’t come out.  Part of the problem might be that for one of the first times in his life, he held what he felt for Stella as something sacred and something private.  God knows when it came to the other women in his life, especially Karen, he was known to overshare.

Maybe the difference was how reserved Stella was to begin with.  He had coaxed her out of her shell through the years, but she had also taught him the benefits of privacy.  There were things that only the two of them knew, things that he didn’t even tell Karen about, and he was known to tell Karen everything, and that made him feel more bonded with her than anyone else.  Still, he felt compelled, and the empty piece of paper mocked him.

Desperate for a diversion, he searched Karen’s desk for something to toy with.  He found a neon green Bic lighter at the bottom of one of the drawers and his spirits brightened in the hopes he might find a loose cigarette to go with it.  No such luck.  Even the lighter was old and useless, barely giving off a few sparks when he tried to fire it up.  The impatience of it all sort of made him wish he’d invited Charlie after all.  Charlie could always come up with a distraction, though their influence on each other was the very reason he didn’t want his little folically challenged friend around today.

There was a knock on the frame of the open door behind him and Hank spun around in his chair to see Fish wearing a wide grin and a hideous red and white Hawaiian shirt.  The Trout was probably the last person in the house he wanted to see, but he still welcomed the distraction.

“Fish,” Hank said, flicking the sparkwheel of the lighter in his hand with his thumb, trying in vain to release his pent up anxiety.

“Hank, my man,” Fish answered.  The enthusiasm in the greeting was grating to Hank.

“What’s up?”

“Beckster traded the rings with your lovely lady.”  Fish tossed a small jewelry box at Hank which he caught with his left hand.

“Thanks.”

Fish strutted over to the other side of the room and stretched as he looked out the window.  Hank turned slowly to watch him, his thumbnail scratching lightly at the two tiny hinges on the jewelry box.  His ring finger had been itching since he'd taken his ring off and given it to Becca.  He wondered if Stella felt just as odd without hers as he did.  It has so quickly become a part of him.

“Gorgeous day,” Fish said.  “You picked a good one.”

Hank made a noise of agreement and Fish moved away from the window to take a seat on the other side of the desk across from Hank.

“Karebear sent me in to make sure you weren't shittin’ bricks,” Fish said.

“Nerves of steel,” Hank answered.

“That’s good.  I wouldn’t want to have to slap some sense into ya.”

“Why, Fish, I didn't know you liked me like that.”

“I’ll go tell Karebear you’re cool as a cucumber.”  

Fish rose part way up from his chair, but Hank waved him back down.  He toyed with the lighter again and then dropped it onto the desk to open up the jewelry box and look at Stella’s ring.  He touched the little diamonds with a reverence that made his chest swell.  The box snapped shut with a little click when he closed his hand into a fist.

“I wanted to write something for Stella,” Hank said.  “Something to say before we make our vows.”

“Yeah?”

“I just can’t...I can’t seem to think right now.”

“You want to hear about my grandparents?”

“Not really.”

“Married 62 years.  Happy as fuckin’ clams.  Five kids.  My dad was the second in line a year after my Aunt Pam.”

“Is there an exam later?  Should I write this down?”

“You’re a real wiseass, Moody.”

“So I’ve been told.”  Hank set the jewelry box down on the desk and sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together at the back of his head and and closing his eyes.  “Go ahead.  You were planting the seeds of the Fish family tree for me.  Aunt Pam, followed by dear old dad.”

“Three years in, my grandpops gets called up to serve.”

“World War II?”

“Yep.  Navy.  Spent most of his service in the Pacific Islands, but never saw combat.  His unit built airfields and roads and hospitals.  He spent exactly 34 months away from grandma and my dad and Aunt Pam and to hear him talk about it, you’d think it was 34 years.”

“I’m sure it was rough.”

“He was a poet.  Not professionally or anything like that, but he was a poet at heart.  He wrote my grandma a poem every day he was away from her.  One thousand twenty-six of them altogether.”

“Your grandmother kept them?”

“Oh, sure.  Pasted them into a couple scrapbooks that my aunt Pam inherited.”

Hank opened his eyes and blinked up at the ceiling.  “Sorry, Fish, but I’m afraid I’ve missed the point.”

“I haven’t made it yet.”

“Oh.”

“When he got back home, he asked my grandma did she get the poems and she said yes.  He asked, did you like them and she confessed she never read them.  He asked her why she never read the told her he had written her one every day so that she would know how much he loved her.  She told him she already knew how much he loved her because he wrote her every day, not because of what he wrote.”

“That was a very roundabout way of telling me that actions speak louder than words.”

“I teach by example.”

“It’s actually a beautiful story.  Is it true?”

“I can take you over to my Aunt Pam’s place to read the journals.”

“Journals?”

“Every year on their anniversary, grandpops would give grandma a new journal of the poems he’d written throughout the year.  She passed away a few years before him, but he still filled the pages.”

Hank actually felt a little choked up at the end of Fish’s story.  He could be a real sucker for romance like that.  Hadn't he spent most of his life looking for a love like that?  He thought he had it with Karen once upon a time, and then he didn't.  When he really reflected on his time with her, what they'd had was a lot of passion and drama with extreme emotional highs and lows.  What he had with Stella was more balanced.  There was passion, to be sure, but their daily life was more even keeled.  He always thought calm meant boring, but calm actually felt safe and warm and lovely.  

“Have you ever read any of the poems?” Hank asked.

“Nah.  Didn't seem right.”

Hank nodded in agreement.  He was curious as hell to see what could come out of someone on a day to day basis like that.  It was the only thing that he found truly daunting sometimes about getting married - what if one day you discover there's absolutely nothing left to discover?  Then what?  Maybe those poems were Fish’s grandfather’s reminder of what once was.  Or maybe he really did have something new to say every day.  It was a nice thought.  

“Well, I'll get out of your hair,” Fish said.  He stood, stretched, and then came over to clap Hank on the shoulder.  “You're a good dude, Moody.  Even if you're a wiseass.”

“Thanks, Fish.”

After Fish left, Hank stared at the blank paper in front of him again.  He picked up a pen and poised it over the first line.  ‘Stella,’ he wrote.  What followed was a stream of consciousness that, as a narrative, completely lacked cohesion and form.  His disjointed thoughts tumbled out, one after the other, so that a sentence like ‘I realized I loved you when I didn't want to let go of your hand or go back to New York,’ was followed by ‘Do you remember when you dripped duck sauce on your thigh and let me lick it off?’

His hand cramped and he filled six pages before there was another knock on the door and Becca came up behind him.

“Sun is starting to set,” she said.  “Mom told me to come get you.”

Hank looked at his messy, smudged pages and ink stained hand.  He didn't know where the time had gone.  He thought he would have more time.  He wanted to shower and change and revise his pages and he still wasn't quite finished.

“Dad?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, I’ll…”  He stopped, panic racing through his bloodstream and making him sweat.  He didn’t know what to say, but he wasn’t ready.

The End

[fairyroses]

SECOND CHANCES [Part Three]

AHHH IT’S BEEN LIKE TWO WEEKS SINCE I UPDATED THIS, I’M SORRY. This wasn’t what I had planned to write for this part, but ultimately I decided that I needed it to set some plot things up. Hopefully it’s okay anyway! 

[PART ONE] [PART TWO] 

Obligatory tags/thank yous (seriously thank you all SO much for the support!!): @flux--and--flow, @jessiekitty123, @vampirebillionaire, @corymichaelsmithofficial, @roguepythia, @carry-on-my-wayward-shadowhunter, @balestrazzi, @alwayysblue, @zsaszmatazz, @conflicted-boy

(If I didn’t tag you here but you’d like to be tagged when I update this fic in the future, please let me know!) 

Oswald bites back a groan as he hauls himself into Gabe’s car, sinking down low into the worn leather cushions of the passenger’s seat. His bad leg is aching, pain throbbing to the beat of his pulse.

“Next time,” he pants, “You are going to slash the tires, and I will wait in the car.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Boss,” Gabe mutters, attention only partially on Oswald. Like any dutiful sentry, he still has a pair of binoculars trained on Isabella’s building, keeping careful watch for any signs of movement. 

Oswald takes some time to compose himself and catch his breath, choosing not to think about just how much slashing a mere twenty tires has taken out of him—an unforeseen disadvantage of his current lavish lifestyle, he supposes. It’s been far too long since he’s gotten his own hands dirty, since he’s held a knife in his hand and simply relished in the feeling of stabbing something. 

Admittedly he’s missed it, that feeling, the rush of power that comes with wielding a deadly weapon—even if the only objects injured during this escapade had been rubber tires. 

Once he had finished with Isabella’s car and his volatile emotions had simmered down, logic had been restored, and Oswald had realized that one lone car would not be enough to dissuade suspicions. To seem like a truly random incident, multiple, unrelated cars needed to be affected. So Oswald had marched up and down Isabella’s block, slicing any tires he came across.

It’s a logical enough diversion tactic—committing a larger crime in order to cover up the true target of an original, smaller crime. Like magic, Isabella’s car suddenly transforms from an obvious, solitary victim to one of many, easily lost in the shuffle. 

Oswald wonders if Ed would have approved of such a simple strategy. Probably not, he thinks, given Ed’s flair for the dramatic and convoluted. Oswald is suddenly reminded of a certain chain, frozen inside a block of melting ice, connected to a vat of corrosive acid, and he sighs, feeling unbelievably tired. It has been a long day. 

“Hey, Boss?”

Shaken out of his thoughts, Oswald turns to look at his bodyguard. After a prolonged moment of silence, he prompts, “Yes?” 

“...Isn’t Nygma’s girl a blonde?” 

Oswald’s hackles rise at the phrase Nygma’s girl, and he fights to keep his voice even. “Yes, she was—I mean is.” He cringes at the misstep, his rapidly building fury sputtering out. “She is blonde, that is.” He clears his throat awkwardly, straightening his back and dropping his shoulders, attempting to regain some amount of poise. In a professionally clipped tone, he adds, “Why do you ask?”

"Well, I’ve got my eyes on a girl comin’ out of the building, and she sure looks like Nygma’s girl, but she ain’t no blonde. She’s a bonafide ginger.” 

“A what?” Oswald hisses, poise forgotten, hands shooting across the car to snatch the binoculars out of Gabe’s grasp. “Let me see that!” 

Shoving the binoculars against his own eyes, Oswald has to stifle a gasp. There is indeed a familiar, yet distinctly auburn-haired woman exiting Isabella’s building. He cannot hear her practical heels tip-tapping on the concrete, but he can imagine the sound. He watches as she walks towards the little red car, keys in hand, only to stop, her mouth dropping open as she notices the slashed tires. She stumbles two steps backwards in surprise and looks around wildly, scanning the street, but of course there is no one to be seen. 

Now, Oswald will never admit aloud to having looked up a certain Kristen Kringle, as doing so would be tantamount to admitting that he had, at some point, felt romantically threatened by a dead woman, but...well. He’s seen enough to know that the reddish hair, the old-fashioned dress, even the glasses, for God’s sake—they’re a perfect match. The woman he is staring at does not simply resemble Ed’s precious Miss Kringle, as Isabella does—she looks like she was ripped straight from an old photograph. 

Or brought back from the dead. 

“So?”

Once again, Oswald is brought back to reality by Gabe’s voice. “So what?” he echoes, voice coarse and irritated, eyes still pinned to the sidewalk across the road. 

“So...is it her? Nygma’s girl?”

“Yes.” The answer is automatic, and as Oswald continues studying the woman, he knows that he is absolutely correct. Despite her appearance, that is Isabella. Oswald can always spot an impostor, no matter how good their disguise. Body language will give them away every time—the smallest tells, micro-expressions indicating discomfort and unease, can all be clues. He watches as Isabella tugs at the collar of her dress as if it’s too tight, and compulsively adjusts her glasses. Her feet shuffle nervously, ankle nearly rolling as she wobbles in her brand-new shoes.

No, despite the physical similarities, Isabella is not a reanimated Kristen Kringle. This is an unfamiliar skin for her, a false persona meant to—meant to do what, exactly? 

Oswald takes a breath—the inhale is shakier than he would like it to be. Had Isabella looked like this the last time he’d seen her, lying cold and still on a slab in the GCPD morgue? She must have, but Oswald had not cared enough at the time to notice or remember, too pleased by the fact that she was dead and gone.

What he does remember, though, are Ed’s words to him from earlier that night. They echo between his ears with perfect clarity—the voice in his head even sounds like Ed. 

Isabella showed me that I was worried over nothing.

Is this how she’d shown Ed? By dressing up, appearing to him as his dead ex-girlfriend? Seducing him with some kind of twisted roleplay? Oswald’s skin crawls, and his stomach ties itself into knots over a feeling quite different from his usual jealousy. 

“But why the new hair?” Gabe’s voice floats back into his ears. He sounds far away—a disembodied voice caught on a breeze. “You don’t suppose she just wanted a change, do ya?”

“No. I do not.” Oswald pauses, thinking, teeth worrying against his chapped bottom lip. “I suspect the reason behind this change is far more sinister, Gabriel.”

“What does that mean, Boss?”

“It means we must be far more careful from now on. This woman is not one to be underestimated." 

For the first time, Oswald sees Isabella as more than an innocent, albeit irritating competitor for Ed’s love. For the first time, he considers the fact that she might be dangerous. With this stunt, she’s shown herself to be cunning. Dedicated. Underhanded. Willing to manipulate Ed’s emotions to get what she wants. 

Much like Oswald himself, actually. Or, at least, the man he used to be. 

I’ve changed, he thinks desperately. I’m not like that anymore. I would never do that to Ed. I’m not like her. 

He watches as Isabella begins to dig through her purse, searching for something, only to abruptly freeze in place, still as stone. What happened? he wonders. Did she hear something? Is she frightened? Is she—

Suddenly Isabella’s head whips around, ponytail swinging, and a pair of narrowed eyes land directly on Gabe’s car. This time Oswald does gasp, dropping the binoculars and ducking down on instinct, his heart pounding. His mind begins scrambling for excuses, explanations, anything that he can use to talk himself out of this. 

He’s unable to come up with anything suitable.

After a minute of tense silence, he cranes his neck to look over at Gabe, who also had the good sense to duck out of sight.

“Is she still looking?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

There’s a shuffling noise as Gabe shifts position, just enough to glance over the top of the car’s dashboard. “Nope,” he says. “She’s turned away. Got her phone out, looks like she’s dialing—oh, now she’s goin’ back inside. We’re all clear, Boss.” 

Who is she calling? Ed, probably, to tell him that her tires were slashed.

Or perhaps that she had seen Oswald nearby, spying on her with a conspicuous pair of binoculars. 

Oswald jolts back into a sitting position, rigid in his seat. The crawling beneath his skin intensifies, like hundreds of insects deciding simultaneously to make his body their own. He twitches uncomfortably, itching with the inexplicable feeling of being watched. He feels exposed.

“Gabe,” he says, voice drawn tight as a stretched rubber band. “Get us the hell home. Now.”