#possibly a new blog series?

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[bumblingbabooshka]

Shapey Puppington

Obsessed with his mother and always defers to her despite his seemingly strong and stubborn personality, unconsciously makes messes even though he purports to need things tidy, talks a lot and very loudly in a way where it's hard to engage with him (talking 'at' not 'with' you), reveals very little of his own personality and seems to more parrot things others say, doesn't ever want children because his wife would be "distracted" by them, hates alcohol but is almost always drinking milk, hates his father (or says he does), struggles with his faith but pretends to be devoutly religious, still throws tantrums which his wife cleans up as he's throwing them so it's like nothing happened, calls his wife 'mine' as in "me and mine" or "mine's the same way" to the point where it's unclear if that's her name or not, doesn't recognize her as looking exactly like Bloberta, had a bad relationship with Orel as a teenager but they're better now, protective over Block who he calls his little brother, always frowning and usually complaining, holds his wife's wrist or grabs at her dress when he isn't looking at her so she stays nearby, struggles with feelings of inadequacy and loneliness that he doesn't know how to remedy.

'You used to be such a happy kid.'

[Patreon | Commissions]

[dark-night-star-light]

I finally got the spirit animals books!! Idg the hype about Shane so far he just seems like a regular asshole but I'm assuming there's a reason for it

Dearest anon, I cannot explain how overjoyed I am that you’re reading my childhood favorite series!!! And decided to tell me about it!!! If you do happen to need a guide or are lost, here’s a post about how I recommend reading the books.

Please, please, please come talk to me about it after you’re done. Or, if you have any thoughts about it while reading, you’re welcome to liveblog in my ask box. We’re a very sparse fandom and we need sustenance.

As for Shane, I’m going to be so honest, I can’t tell what book you’re on from this ask. In the first book, he’s actually relatively sweet, and that’s all I’m going to say in case you haven’t read any farther. But part of the reason I like him so much as a character is because he’s such an asshole. Characters are far more interesting when they have flaws that affect how they interact with the world. I wouldn’t consider Shane just a regular asshole, though. I’m not going to say anything else, and I don’t recommend scrolling through my blog because I can’t shut up about the guy and you will be spoiled. But I assure you there’s a good reason for the hype!

If you end up not liking Shane, that’s okay, he’s definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. My favorite literary devices are parallels and cycles, because they are so delicious, and Shane’s character is chock-full of them, aside from all the other things that make him so fascinating to me. So there’s a definite amount of subjectivity present in why I, personally, enjoy his character so much.

I have no idea how you found my blog if not through this fandom, because I literally don’t post about anything else, but welcome aboard! Hope you like the series! Come to me with thoughts . . .

[c0rpsedemon]

it's 2023 and i'm still bitter about how kuroshitsuji, a complex slow burn mystery manga, got absolutely massacred by its shitty semi-episodic shota/fujobait anime adaptation

[sunflowerius]

i really do constantly stay losing (consistently getting obsessed with things that have little to no fandom)

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

Am I Ready For Love? Or Maybe Just A Best Friend (HERO-Centric OMORI fanfiction)

Description: While playing "Mom Friend" to his college buddies' shenanigans, Hero is shocked to learn that he is widely considered the "Prince" of their campus. Though flattered, he doesn't feel he deserves the praise, especially seeing as his heart still missed the best friend and childhood love he had lost far too soon. He would always miss her and simply couldn't imagine being with anyone else...but that didn't mean he wasn't lonely. Even self-imposed loneliness wasn't free from sadness.

When an unexpected conversation drudges up bittersweet memories for him, however, Hero begins to wonder if he doesn't have to be nearly as lonely anymore. He might not be ready for love, but a best friend didn't sound too bad...

Relationships: Hero & Brandi [Intimidating Girl] Friendship, Hero & Original Characters Friendship, Past Romantic Hero/Mari, Romantic Brandi/OC, Could be Hero/OC if you really wanted to see it/imagine it happening after the slowest of slow burns, but this is more about their platonic friendship and is very heavy on the past Hero/Mari angst. Mentioned Hero & Kel and Brandi & Bebe's sibling relationships and Bebe/Mikhael.

Characters: Hero (POV Character), Brandi [Intimidating Girl], Original Characters, Mari's Memory, Mentioned Kel, Bebe (Short Haired Girl/Fountain Girl) & Mikhael (The Maverick).

Genre: Hero-Centric Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Slice of Life, College Life, Lost Love, Developing Friendship, Developing Relationship, Greiving, Catharsis, Heart-To-Heart Chats, Hopeful Ending, Post-Good Ending, Hero Needs A Hug, Hero Deserves To Be Happy

Word Count: 7,779

Rating: T for some heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide. Mentions of Underage Drinking & Partying) Some language.

Warnings: Major Spoilers for OMORI! Heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide. Mentions of Underage Drinking & Partying). Some Language.

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another website. All other interaction (likes, reblogs ect.) appreciated!

A/N: This story (including it's title) was heavily inspired by the song "Turning Out" by AJR (which is just a shot to the heart when thinking of poor Hero 🥺❤️ Highly recommend).

PART 1 of the "When Sun Shines Again [Hero's Life After Mari] Series

Full story text below the cut. Thank you so much for reading and cheers to good & happy things for Hero in the future! 💕

“You know, sometimes I think Kel is fine, but then yesterday he called to tell me he ate a whole can of spray cheese”—Hero sighed and shook his head—“nothing with it just the spray cheese…” He shrugged his shoulders, and Brandi laughed. Swapping stories about their siblings was one of their favorite activities—especially at these wilder college parties where they tended to gravitate towards each other in want of a familiar face and company that wasn’t completely wasted. Even though Faraway Town was small, and he had known Brandi nearly his entire life, they hadn’t really become friends until college and the hours they spent together reminiscing about home or making each other laugh with stories about Bebe’s hopeless lovesickness or Kel’s well-meaning but often silly antics. It was a relief to have a friend and a familiar face around, and Hero could never quite tell her how much that meant to him.

“Well, that’s nothing. Bebe is still lovesick over that moron who wears that ridiculous wig and calls himself ‘The Maverick,’” huffed Brandi. “How many times do you think he’s seen Top Gun? I’m guessing at least fifty, possibly a hundred.” As Hero stifled a chuckle, Brandi rolled her eyes as she leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter and poured herself another glass of something, Hero wasn’t entirely sure what and he didn’t ask. He had learned it was better not to.

“Well…his family does run the best bakery in Faraway Town, and—” Hero stopped. He was going to mention how Aubrey had been good friends with Mikhael for quite a while, but then he realized she probably had even��less positive things to say about him than Brandi did. 

“I guess, but that’s just his family, and even if they’re great, he’s just…”—she paused as if searching for the right word—“a bozo. I just can’t believe she’d throw away her future for some guy like that. She says she wants to go to pastry school now so she can work in the bakery. She doesn’t even bake! You just wait until Kel starts dating,” she warned with a heavy sigh. “He’ll be driving you up the wall.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Hero chuckled. Truthfully, he was a little surprised that hadn’t happened yet, but Kel didn’t seem particularly interested in a romantic relationship right now, which Hero could respect. He certainly felt the same way himself, though for different reasons, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away and buried them, changing the subject. “Speaking of dating, how are things going with you and C.J.?”

Brandi’s mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Checking up on your handiwork, matchmaker?” she teased dryly.

Hero’s face felt a bit flushed. That hadn’t been his intention, but he fidgeted.  “Are you upset that I set you up?”

“You didn’t set us up. You just…talked him up to me until I finally agreed to go out with him, there’s a difference,” Brandi insisted, and Hero chuckled. He supposed that was true. C.J. was one of Hero’s friends from his fraternity, and he had had the most obvious yet sincere interest in Brandi ever since they were paired up for a legal research course project. Hero had thought they had a lot in common—spirited personalities, strong sense of justice, same Pre-Law major and aspirations to become attorneys someday, and, though he usually tried to stay out of his friends’ business especially their love lives, C.J. had begged him to put in a good word for him so she wouldn’t see him as just another dumb, partying frat boy.

Hero couldn’t blame Brandi for her trepidation around fraternity guys. They didn’t have the best reputation, and if Hero was being honest, he likely would have tried to avoid them himself if he hadn’t been forcibly dragged…er…recruited into a fraternity last pledge term. He would say it was a long story, but it really wasn’t. They needed someone to cook and to clean around their garbage heap of a frat house—a “Mama,” as they quickly deemed him—and Hero was too polite and conflict-avoidant to refuse when Kyle, a sports medicine major in his organic chemistry class, practically begged him to pledge for his frat. His harrowing tale of how they had eaten practically nothing but instant ramen every day for the past year was really the final straw. Now he cooked not only for the fraternity but also for all their guests when they had parties since keeping everyone fed and hydrated with water when they were binge drinking resulted in less vomiting on the carpet and less passing out on the living room rug or in the yard.

That was what he was doing now, after all, making sandwiches on the stove, handing out glasses of water, and keeping an eye on the dwindling bottles of booze. He handed Brandi the grilled cheese he had been making for her with a smile, and Brandi hummed. “Thank you. And thank you for setting me up too, I guess. It’s nice not to be hit on all the time anymore. It was getting pretty annoying.” She laughed, playing with the red glow stick bracelet on her wrist, and Hero chuckled in spite of himself before she quickly added, “I’m really just teasing. C.J.’s a great guy, and we are very happy, so I really do owe you one.”

Hero smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He was glad to help, and it was honestly really nice having Brandi around more often. She cleaned up after herself at least.

“If you ever want me to return the favor, just let me know. I know a ton of girls who would kill to go out with you.”—she laughed as Hero blushed—“I’m pretty sure you’re like the prince of our campus.”

Hero’s face burned. He was sure it must be bright red by now. It wasn’t the first time he had heard that, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but he never could take a good compliment, even a joking one. “I’m sure that’s not…” he mumbled, but his voice trailed off as he grew suddenly interested in the spatula in his hands. He shook his head and ignored the heat in his cheeks as he changed directions. “Thank you…that’s very flattering, but um…I’m just…I’m not…It’s…” He began to trip over his words, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say, but Brandi thankfully cut him off with a tilt of her head and a knowing, sympathetic smile.

“It’s complicated?” She finished for him, pointing at the yellow glow stick on his wrist. He always picked ‘It’s Complicated’ yellow for these kinds of traffic light parties. It was just the easiest—saved him from the awkwardness of being flirted with and having to turn people down while also not lying that he was in a relationship already.

Hero nodded, and Brandi patted his hand with a soft, bittersweet expression and a knowing smile. She leaned closer to him so no one would hear her whisper, “Your heart’s still with her, isn’t it?”

Something panged in that all too familiar ache in Hero’s chest. He supposed that was one way of putting it. It wasn’t something he ever really talked about, but he supposed it was no secret that he had not had a relationship with anyone since Mari. The truth was, even if he had wanted one—even if he could move on from her, he didn’t think it would be fair—not to Mari’s memory or to whoever he could be with. He had already had a beautiful love story and, even though it was cut short, he felt that to even wish for anything more would be greedy and ungrateful for the time that he and Mari did have together. That said, doubt occasionally set in that that was a bit of an unreasonable notion all things considered—he had been only fifteen when she had passed and had his whole life ahead of him. In the deepest corners of his mind, he knew she would probably want him to move on and be happy again, but at the same time even if he could someday be ready to open up his heart again, he worried that he would never be able to give that other person the love she deserved. He would never be able to say that she was the one and only love of his life and would never be able to tell her that he had never felt this way about anyone. He would always miss Mari, and, now, the only heart he had to give had already been broken and painfully pieced back together. It was so busted and bruised that, if he was being perfectly honest, he had trouble believing that anyone would even want it.

“Hero…”

“It’s okay,” he cut her off with a slight, reassuring smile, and Brandi smiled back. “I’m okay.”

Brandi nodded. “I understand,” she said with a sigh before taking a sip of her drink. “But if you ever change your mind…if you’re ever ready…you know where to find me, and I know where to find a ton of girls who would definitely be interested.” She winked at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes though he scratched the back of his neck when he felt an arm drape around his shoulders.

“What’s going on?” exclaimed Kyle, his voice already starting to slur from too much liquor.

“Brandi’s trying to set me up,” sighed Hero in a dry, somewhat joking way.

Kyle burst into raucous laughter. “Good luck with that. We’ve been trying too—since I’m pretty sure there’s not a girl on this campus who wouldn’t date our very own ‘Prince Charming,’ here, but he’s practicing to be a monk or something.”

“Well, you know, Kyle, it is possible not to have a relationship—it won’t kill you,” bantered Brandi with a frown.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Kyle stuck his tongue out at her. “I know you think I’m a serial optometrist.”

“Monogamist,” corrected Brandi, as Hero covered his mouth with his hand and tried not to laugh. “How drunk are you?”

Kyle hummed, kind of teetering in place. “I dunno.” He turned to Hero. “Mama, how drunk am I?”

Hero sighed, reaching to pour Kyle what was clearly a much needed glass of water. “Here,” he said, avoiding the question. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Kyle nodded and gulped down the water. Hero must have refilled his glass at least twice more, before Kyle leaned his elbows on the counter and asked for a BLT which Hero promptly went to work making. “Thanks. Look, I love my relationships. I just don’t want my friends missing out, you know? And hell, if I was that popular, I’d probably be taking full advantage of it—most guys would. Mama here is an actual saint.”

Hero’s face flushed red, but before he could begin to protest, Brandi interjected with a huffy, “I’m sure you would Kyle” conveniently ignoring his comments about Hero’s supposed sainthood. Her brow furrowed—her eyes narrowing at the green glow stick bracelet on Kyle’s wrist. “I see you’re on the market again. What happened to Tiffany?”

“Eh, didn’t work out,” shrugged Kyle. “We were too different.”

“Realized you didn’t have anything in common besides your love of sucking face?” quipped Brandi sarcastically. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“No,” he insisted, but then sighed. “Alright…sort of…but there were more problems than that.” He sighed. “You know…never mind. I didn’t come over here to talk about Tiffany.” He waved his hand dismissively before his face lit up like a little kid on Christmas. “I wanted to tell you guys, there’s this whole group of girls hanging out in the living room, and they think I look like Nick Carter.”

“How drunk are they?” scoffed Brandi.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, I’ve always thought I looked like him. You think so, don’t you, Hero?”

Hero tilted his head. He supposed he could kind of see it. They had similarly shaped noses, heart-shaped faces, pale skin, light eyes, and blonde hair; however, the trait they had most in common was that curtain bangs haircut, and Hero was fairly certain Kyle had purposely styled his hair that way just to look like he could be in a boy band. Even so, he shrugged and said, “Yeah. You’re practically the sixth Backstreet Boy.”

“See,” he turned to Brandi with a triumphant huff, almost like the satisfied taunt a young boy might give his little sister. Hero chuckled lightly to himself. It reminded him a bit of Kel.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Brandi insisted. “Hero would say anything just to be nice.”

Hero’s face flushed. He hoped he wouldn’t get pulled back into this argument, but luckily Kyle didn’t seem to hear her, instead insisting, “And here I was going to say I think you look like Celine Dion, but now that you’ve been so rude to me, I don’t think I’ll say anything.”

“I don’t look like Celine Dion, Kyle.” Brandi shook her head before taking a sip of her drink.

“Aw, I think you kinda look like Celine Dion, babe,” C.J. interjected draping an arm around his girlfriend.

“Thanks, but I really don’t…” Brandi sighed, but C.J. cut her off.

“And I always thought I kinda look like Usher but with glasses.”

“Not you too…” she teased though there was a certain affection in her eyes and a twitch in the corners of her mouth. “What is it with guys comparing themselves to celebrities? I honestly thought that was just a girl thing.”

C.J. pouted playfully. “What? You don’t think I look like Usher?”

Once again, Hero could kind of see the similarities—oval shaped faces, wide cheekbones, warm eyes, dark skin, and bright, beaming smiles. They looked about as much alike as Kyle and Nick Carter though he wasn’t sure that was saying much, especially coming from him. Brandi, it seemed, was unconvinced.

“I think you look like C.J.” she said quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not sure I know that celebrity,” he teased wrapping his arms around her neck. “Is he handsome?”

Brandi stifled a chuckle but playfully, pretended to ponder the question before finally meeting his gaze. “Yes.”

C.J.’s face lit up into that beaming, 100-watt smile as he looked into her eyes. Hero recognized that look, like Brandi was the only one in the room and they were lost in their own little corner of the world. She ruffled her hand through his tight curls, and he leaned in and kissed her.

“Get a room you two,” teased Kyle sticking his tongue out at them. With a flick of his finger, C.J. promptly told Kyle exactly what he thought of his comments before he cupped Brandi’s face in his hands.

With a bantering shake of his head, Kyle stared down at his green glow stick bracelet like it was watch. Hero turned away abruptly, his face feeling warm as if he had intruded on what should be a very private moment.

Truthfully, despite the awkwardness he currently felt at their extremely public display of affection, he really was happy for them—for all of his friends who wanted relationships and had found them. If he was being honest with himself, however, it did bring up some complicated feelings for him sometimes—made him feel lonely. It was a self-imposed loneliness, but that didn’t mean it was always free from sadness. He glanced down at the yellow glow stick on his wrist. The truth was it wasn’t all that complicated. Even after all these years, he still missed Mari, and he knew he would always miss her. It wouldn’t be fair to pursue anyone else while he felt this way—to put his new love in a situation where she’d feel like a second choice or a last resort, so he contented himself with being alone, probably forever. A bittersweet smile tugged at his mouth. Maybe he’d get a cat… he thought before turning his focus to making Kyle’s sandwich.  

As he added the finishing touches to Kyle’s BLT, Brandi finally disentangled herself from her boyfriend. “We’re making Kyle and Hero uncomfortable,” she said, but C.J. shrugged, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Eh, they’re just jealous.” He stuck out his tongue at Kyle, who stuck his tongue out back. Hero sighed. It was very juvenile, but he still chuckled in spite of himself.

“Hey! I’m glad I’m not tied down,” Kyle insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand as he took a bite out of the sandwich Hero gave him.

Brandi frowned. “Tell me, Kyle. Have you ever had a relationship with a woman that lasted more than two weeks?”

“Yes!” He nodded emphatically. “With Zuzu.” He paused then called as loudly as he could out onto the patio. “Hey, Zuzu! Come tell these morons how long we’ve been friends.”

A redheaded girl in an oversized sweater whipped around with a somewhat affectionate if bantering roll of her green eyes. ���Too long,” she quipped, wrinkling her lightly freckled nose at them, as she walked through the sliding door back into the kitchen.

“You wound me, Zuzu,” Kyle gasped in teasing melodrama, clutching his chest. “What were you doing outside anyway? Aren’t you usually glued to Mama at these things?”

“Because he’s the only sober person here,” she teased, but she smiled at him.  Hero’s face flushed. It was true that Zuzu, or Zoey as she was called by everyone who wasn’t Kyle, was generally his ‘partner in crime’ at all parties hosted by his fraternity or her sorority—spending the night helping him in the kitchen or passing out cups of water to the groups of plastered college students mingling around the house, and often helping with cleanup and dishes afterwards. Truthfully, he enjoyed her company and the conversations they had—talking and laughing for hours while making food, cleaning up or doing dishes together. Though he always felt guilty about putting a guest to work at his party, she always insisted she had a much better time spending the evening with a friend than she would have getting drunk and partying. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He felt the same way. 

“Like you haven’t had a thing to drink,” retorted Kyle, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and staring down into her cup. Zoey merely blinked at him.

“I haven’t. I have a thermodynamics exam on Monday and need to study tomorrow.” She always blamed her aversion to drinking on her difficult civil engineering major, but Hero knew she just didn’t care for drunk partying. Now that Hero was thinking about it, Zoey blamed a lot of things on her difficult civil engineering major—not least of all the red glow stick on her wrist despite being contentedly single. “Married to school,” she always joked, and Hero often joked the same thing.

“But that’s tomorrow,” Kyle whined. “You and Mama are both such old people.” He stuck his tongue out at them, but Zoey just shrugged with a lopsided smile.

“Old people have more fun. You’ll understand someday, Kyle.”

Hero stifled a chuckle behind his hand, before turning his attention back to the stove.

“Brandi and C.J., back me up here,” Kyle sighed, but when he turned around he realized they had gone, probably to continue their PDA somewhere a little more private, if Hero had to guess, but he didn’t really want to think about it. Kyle huffed. “Whatever. Be boring old grandparents together, I don’t care. You’re the ones missing out.” He grabbed his cup, a beer, and the rest of his sandwich, leaving them in the kitchen alone.

“Don’t mind Kyle,” said Zoey with a shake of her head. “He can be such a moron sometimes, but he’s a nice guy, even if he acts like a kid especially when he’s drunk…But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.”

A slight smile tugged at Hero’s mouth. He had been roommates with Kyle for over a year now, and he could definitely attest to that.

“We’ve already hit ‘Touchy-Feely Drunk Kyle’”—Zoey tilted her head at him—“How hungover do you think he’ll be tomorrow?”

Hero quickly stifled a breathy chuckle, but he sighed. “I don’t know. He always thinks he can drink a lot more than he can handle.”

Zoey’s mouth twitched into a dry smile. “I bet you’re an expert on nursing hangovers now. It’s a shame that can’t go on your med school application.”

Hero laughed but immediately felt guilty for it.

“Give him one of those sports drinks with breakfast tomorrow—it’ll help. I keep a ton of them in our fridge back at the sorority house for when the girls go out partying or bar hopping.”

“You really are the mom, huh?” Hero replied dryly, and though Zoey smiled, she raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re one to talk.”  

Hero shrugged. He supposed she had a point and not just because she was currently holding his “World’s Best Mama” mug with a dry yet triumphant smile.

“Well,” sighed Zoey gathering up some more of the dirty dishes scattered around the kitchen. “Since you’ll probably be pretty busy playing nurse tomorrow, we should probably get started on the clean-up tonight.” She looked around the room with narrowed green eyes. “It looks like a tornado stormed through here.”

With a weary sigh, Hero rubbed his forehead. Unfortunately, she was right. Given the sorry state of the kitchen alone, to say that the party had trashed their place would be a bit of an understatement. It would probably take hours to clean everything up—to say nothing of the several hours of cleaning Hero had already done to prepare for the party in the first place. Hero supposed he could do most of the deep cleaning in the morning when some of his fraternity brothers might be awake to help out, if they weren’t too hungover that is, but, truthfully, he wouldn’t mind cleaning up on his own—after all, he did most of the cleaning around here anyway.

With a sigh, Hero conceded that Zoey was probably right and he might as well start cleaning now. He reached out to take the mug and the rest of the dishes from Zoey and turned on the sink to begin to rinse them out. Hero shook his head. If he had a nickel for every minute he spent doing dishes in this house…

He felt a nudge on his elbow as Zoey joined him, rinsing off some of the plates she had gathered from the table.

“You really don’t have to do that,” he insisted.

“And leave you to clean everything up by yourself?” She paused but not long enough for him to even begin to protest. “I’ve been there—it’s no fun at all.”

“We got our dishwasher fixed,” Hero sighed with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Then this won’t take that long,” she continued. “All we’ll have to do is rinse them off.” She pointed a sponge at him with a certain determination in her green eyes that said this sorry excuse for an argument was over, and Hero knew she was right. 

No matter how guilty he may have felt about putting a guest and a friend to work cleaning up his house, he was compliant and conflict avoidant by nature and had no stamina for arguing. She had insisted she wanted to help, and goodness knows he could use an extra set of hands. He would ultimately concede and even though she would insist it was unnecessary, later this week, he’d send her a thank you card with a plate of her favorite cookies or some flowers—or a more thoughtful gift if he could think of one. The last time she had helped him clean up after a party, he had bought her a set of Papa Chip coasters since, while they were doing dishes for hours by hand on account of the then broken dishwasher, they had somehow started talking about how they had both loved Papa Chip back when they were kids.

“And you don’t have to send me any coasters this time,” she teased, and Hero’s cheeks felt suddenly warm, wondering if she could somehow read his mind. “Not that they’re not great,” she added hurriedly. “You’re very thoughtful, but you really don’t have to do that.”

Hero’s face flushed red—he never could take a compliment—but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I know, but I felt bad and…”

“Well don’t,” she interrupted. “We’re friends, and I don’t mind helping you out. Besides, a bunch of my sorority sisters were giving me dirty looks for about a week until I lied and told everyone they were from Jared. I don’t know if they really bought it or just got over it.”  

Hero’s brow furrowed. He supposed those coaters could be a gift someone’s younger brother would get for them—after all, Kel had gotten him a Papa Chip cookbook “just because,” once—but he wasn’t sure why Zoey had felt the need to lie to the other girls in the sorority house. “I’m sorry if I upset the other girls or made them angry with you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zoey shrugged it off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They’re just jealous that we’re actually friends.” She sighed. “I’ve tried to tell them that you’re actually pretty friendly and nice, so they could be friends with you too if they started treating you like an actual person instead of some kind of ‘Campus Prince.’”—she shook her head—“But I don’t think it’s been working.”

Hero blushed. Though he found it very flattering, he still couldn’t wrap his head around how he could have possibly become some sort of ‘Prince’ of their campus in the minds of so many girls.

“You should tell them I’m kind of a dork…” Hero sighed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“I tried that too,” she bantered. “But they didn’t believe me.”

Hero laughed, but his smile quickly faded. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop sending you things.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she repeated, a little more forcefully. “They need to get over themselves. I’m honestly kind of sick of the Hero fan club that goes on in our house.”

Hero’s face felt suddenly warm, and he resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Fan club?” he choked.

“Yes. You, Mr. Prince, are always the hot topic of conversation,” she teased with a lopsided smile. “If you asked practically anyone, they’d say you are probably the perfect man—even my sister who has this awful obsession with bad boys thinks so, which is really saying a lot.” She paused, and Hero stifled a chuckle. Zoey’s twin sister, Lorraine, was a sweet and bubbly girl despite her terrible taste in boyfriends, a topic often bemoaned by both Zoey and Kyle. A slight tint of pink flushed in his cheeks, he supposed it really was quite the compliment coming from her. “And it doesn’t help that you’re so mysterious.”

“I don’t think I’m mysterious,” Hero chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.

“I know, you’re not,” Zoey cut him off with a reassuring smile. “And I’ve tried to explain that to them multiple times, but they don’t really listen to me since they’re convinced I’m trying to steal you away.”

A blush filled his cheeks, and he turned away from her abruptly. “What?”

“You know, the idea of men and women just being friends, is a little beyond them, I think,” she quipped. “It’s ridiculous, but can you blame them? I mean in their minds you’re a real life ‘Prince Charming,’ and even though you’re interested in women and could have pretty much any girl in the universe you wanted, you’re really, really single.” She chuckled, as Hero buried his face in his hands. He could almost picture that bright, cheeky grin on her face, though he wouldn’t—no, couldn’t turn to look at her again. “You’ve got to be hung up on somebody, otherwise why haven’t you chosen from the hoards of adoring women who would kill to be with you?”

Hero’s face grew hot. He was sure it must be bright red by now. “Zoey…”

“It’s a big topic of conversation is all I’m saying.”

Finally, Hero managed to pull his hands away from his face, if only because his eyes were beginning to burn from the soapy dishwater. “Can you please tell them that I’m very flattered,” he stumbled, still blushing furiously. “But I’m just so busy with school that I’m just not…really looking for a relationship right now?”

Zoey shrugged. “Tried and failed, but I’d be happy to tell them again. Don’t expect them to believe me though. At this point, everybody’s making up their own theories.”

“Theories?” Hero choked.

“You know you have your normal ones like you’re too busy for a relationship or you had a bad relationship in the past and just aren’t ready to put yourself back out there again. Then there are the ones that you actually already have a relationship, but you’re very private about it so no one has ever seen or heard of her. There are a couple of wild ones in this category like she’s a celebrity so you have to keep it a secret so the press doesn’t find out and you end up in a tabloid.” She winked at him. “Just like in a movie.”  

“You are making this up.”

Zoey shook her head. “No, I swear I’ve heard that one, and that’s not even the craziest one. I’ve also heard a rumor that you’ve been promised in an arranged marriage since birth so that you can take over as the CEO of a toaster strudel empire. And, of course, my personal favorite: that you have an eccentric billionaire uncle who wants you to inherit his vast fortune but only on the condition that you remain a reclusive bachelor just like him.”  

Hero laughed in spite of himself. “That’s—none of those are true…” He cleared his throat. “Except the first one about me being too busy.”

“I know, and that’s what I always say. Everybody keeps coming to me and asking about it like I have some secret, inside knowledge or something, but I have a theory just like everybody else,” she joked waving her hand dismissively.

“You have a theory?”

Zoey stopped but shrugged. “I mean…not one that I just sit around and think about, but you can only be asked the same question so many times before you start thinking…” Her voice trailed. “It’s not one I ever tell anyone,” she insisted. “If anyone asks me, I always tell them exactly what you just said, which is that you’re flattered but too focused on school and your future to worry about a relationship right now.”

“Then what’s your theory?” he asked half-jokingly, half-actually-interested.

“You really want to know?”

Hero put down the plate he was scrubbing and shrugged. “Kind of.”

Zoey paused, and when she sighed, Hero fidgeted. “But you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” he hurriedly added.

“No, I…” She stopped though there was the slightest tint of rose in her pale cheeks. “But it’s just a theory. I don’t want to offend you or…”

Hero’s brow furrowed. Offend him? What in the world could she possibly be thinking? His breath caught in his throat. She couldn’t…know…could she?

“I won’t be offended,” he reassured her quietly, but his heart was beginning to pound. “Do you…not believe me? Because it really is true. I’m very busy with school and—”

“No. It’s…it’s not like that,” she cut him off with a sigh as she placed her sponge on the counter. “I really do think that you are very busy with school—studying for your classes and the MCAT and all of that. You just don’t have the time or energy for a relationship right now, but…I don’t think that means you don’t want one.” Zoey paused, her voice growing quiet, and she met his eyes. “I think you do want a relationship—otherwise you wouldn’t be so lonely.”

Hero inhaled sharply—his breath getting caught in his chest. Biting his lip, he looked away from her, staring down at his trembling hands. He wanted to hide—curl in on himself—maybe figure out a way to laugh it off like Kel or Kyle might be able to do, but he was frozen, shocked. Of all the things she could have possibly…? No, that wasn’t the question. The real question gnawing at him was had it really been so obvious?

“Hero?” He could hear the concern in her voice, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t look at her. “Listen, I can just…stop there…”  

“Is there more?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Zoey sighed. “Yes, but I feel bad. I can…”

“Go on,” Hero squeaked, barely managing a nod.

Zoey sighed again, and Hero wasn’t sure if she was even going to continue until she finally said, “But…the thing is…you don’t just want a relationship with just anyone. You—you want a relationship with someone you can never be with. And even though you know your love is doomed…”—she paused—“you gave your heart to her a long time ago and you can’t even imagine being with anyone else.”

Something ached in Hero’s chest. Somehow he knew that was what she was going to say, but he had to hear it for himself. He wished he could sink into the floor, could hide from her, from his memories, from himself again. And yet…there was a part of him that didn’t want to.

“Wow…” he barely managed, after a long, heavy silence.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he quietly interjected, his voice hitching. “That was…pretty spot on actually…”

“Oh Hero…” Zoey sighed. “I’m sorry…I…”  

“Don’t be.” He fiddled with the sponge in his hands, and after a few intense scrubs at a particularly stubborn stain, he finally added as nonchalantly as he could manage. “I asked, and you were right…”

“I didn’t want to be right about this.”

Hero bit down hard on his lip as something burned behind his eyes. Scratching the nape of his neck, he let out a breathy, self-deprecating chuckle. “I guess I had just hoped that it wasn’t so obvious that I was so sad and pathetic...”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t realized that he had even said those words aloud until she had spoken them back to him.

“And I don’t think it’s obvious—except to your close friends maybe?” She paused, sighing and placing a gentle hand on his arm. “She must have been special and very important to you. I think it’s sweet that you’re still devoted to her and there isn’t anything wrong with that, unless, you know, she’s married or something, in which case…”—she began to quip breathily, probably in an attempt to make him smile again—“but I don’t think you’re the type…”

Hero’s mouth twitched in the corners, but the ghost of his smile faded as he shook his head. “No, she…uh…” The words caught in the back of his throat. “She passed away.”

“Oh Hero, I’m so sorry.” Zoey wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. He took a deep shaky breath, staring up at the ceiling ignoring that prickling feeling in his eyes. When she pulled away from him, he somehow managed the slightest twitch in the corners of his mouth.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago…” He wasn’t sure if his weak reassurances were for her or for himself. “I should probably be over it by now.”

As he couldn’t bear to look at her, he could only imagine what her face looked like right now. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he spluttered. “I’m sorry for making you sad. I—”

“No,” Zoey cut him off. “You didn’t make me sad. Hero…if you want to talk about it, you can tell me. I’m your friend—I care about you.” She paused, and Hero bit his lip. He could feel her gentle hand running comfortingly across his shoulders. “You’re not going to hurt me. I can take it.”

Hero finally breathed—a long deep exhale of the breath he had been holding for far too long. She had no idea how reassuring those words were. Still…try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. He opened his mouth, but the words got garbled in the back of his throat.

“Take your time,” she whispered.

After several deep breaths he finally choked out, “Her name was Mari.” His voice hitched, then the words began to tumble out of his mouth. “She lived next door for as long as I can remember, and I…I always thought she was just the most amazing person. She was smart and funny and very talented—she was wonderful at arts and crafts and gardening and a really gifted pianist. We even used to play together sometimes, and she was so kind and very generous—she was always going out of her way to help someone and make them happy. And when she smiled”—his voice cracked—“You would have thought the sun shined brighter.”

He paused, sniffled. “I think I loved her before I even knew what that was…And I couldn’t believe it when she felt the same way about me.” As a bittersweet smile tugged at his lips, his eyes grew misty. “We were high school sweethearts, until she died.” He swallowed hard—that familiar, hollow pang in his chest ached.

“We were 15. It’s kind of a long story but…at the time, we didn’t know how she died. We thought—I thought—she had ended her own life”—he inhaled sharply, shakily, unable to stop the words even if he wanted to—“It was probably the darkest time of my life. I was a wreck, and I blamed myself. I…I didn’t even know she was depressed. I thought if I had just talked to her—had just held her tighter, just loved her more—better then maybe she…” He stopped. Blinking back the tears in his eyes, he sniffled and cleared his throat. “But it was an accident. There were…witnesses…we found out later. She—she had a bad knee, you see, and…and she fell down the stairs…landed wrong and…” He stopped abruptly. “You—You’d think learning that would make the guilt go away but it…”

Hero swallowed hard, but he managed a shaky sigh. “But…But with time…eventually I just…threw myself into school and work and extra-curriculars. My parents had always wanted me to be a doctor, and all I could see was years of school, years of residency, long hours of studying and clinicals and work and I thought I could just bury myself in it—stay so busy that I wouldn’t feel it anymore, but it doesn’t ever really go away.”

He sniffled and wiped his eyes again with a shaky chuckle. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but I…I’m usually pretty okay. It’s been so many years now, and it doesn’t hurt like it used to. But…but sometimes I’ll see a wave of dark hair or hear a name that sounds like hers or someone playing a waltz on a piano or our song on the radio and”—his voice hitched—“I just don’t know if I’m ever really going to be over it.”  

He swallowed hard. “And you’re right. I can’t even imagine being with anyone else. It wouldn’t be fair—to her, to that person, I mean. What if—I couldn’t love her as much? And you know, I think maybe we all get that ‘once in a lifetime’ love in our lives and I’ve already had mine. It would be greedy to even want anything else. But…but mostly I think it’s just that I wanted to be with her forever, and”—there was a hitch in his voice as tears began to pool in his eyes again—“even now, all these years later, I guess I…I just still don’t know what forever looks like without her.”

A tear finally struggled free from his eye and splashed down his cheek, followed by another, then another. Hero frantically swiped at them, but they wouldn’t stop. Zoey’s arms wrapped around his shoulders again, and she pulled him close.

He wasn’t sure how long she held him. How long he listened to the sound of her steady breathing, felt her hand gently tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. How long it was until she whispered, “I wish you had gotten your forever…”

It wasn’t until he felt the tremble of her shoulders, heard the way her voice had hitched over her words that he realized she was also crying.

He pulled away from her and finally looked in her green eyes—warm and teary. Hero swallowed hard. He had never learned what to say to someone who was crying for him. “Please don’t cry.”  

“Sorry,” she said with the twitch of a bittersweet smile. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he began to ramble. “I just—I…I really should be over it and I just completely dumped all of that on you and I was so…”—he struggled to find the words—“weepy and melodramatic and needy and…”

“No,” she gently cut him off. “You were real. Don’t apologize for that.” She wiped her eyes, and her expression softened. “Hero, what happened was so awful, and the idea of you having to go through something like that, it just—” She stopped. “That’s why I cried. You didn’t hurt me. I told you I can take it, and I’m okay.” She sighed. “And you know for what it’s worth, I think the whole idea of ‘getting over it’ is bullshit. There are some things in our lives that we’ll just never get over. We can get past them, but they’re still going to be there—we just have to learn to build a new life around them, so don’t beat yourself up. You’re still entitled to feel sad. Heck, you’d be entitled to never leave your room again after something like that, but here you are, out living your life, so give yourself a break, okay?” She nodded at him with a slight, reassuring smile before she patted his hand. “And for goodness sakes, stop worrying about me of all people. You don’t have to be the hero all the time. I know it’s your name, but…you don’t have to take it too literally.”  

A light chuckle reverberated in his chest, and a smile twitched in the corners of his mouth. Before he could say anything, however, Kyle burst through the patio door.

“Woah…what’s goin’ on?” He stopped abruptly, and his expression softened. “Are you okay?”

Flushing, Hero swallowed hard nodding and sniffling as he frantically wiped at his eyes. He had completely forgotten himself and couldn’t believe he had just shared what was arguably his biggest, deepest secret in the middle of a house party.

Zoey thankfully jumped to his rescue with a remarkably believable, “We were doing dishes, and poor Hero got some dish soap in his eyes. We’ve been trying to rinse them out, but they got all watery.”

Though it took a few moments, Kyle eventually nodded in understanding. “Oh. That sucks, man,” he said patting him on the back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hero managed a slight smile but shook his head. “No, Kyle. Thanks, but it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Kyle nodded again, but Hero saw him glance over at Zoey as if waiting for additional reassurance or instructions. When she nodded at him, Kyle sighed. “Alright, well if you need anything let me know, okay?”

Hero nodded at him then handed him a glass of water. Kyle took it with a smile then walked off towards the living room. When he was gone, Hero sniffled again and turned back to Zoey, sheepish and embarrassed.

“Zoey, I’m sor—” he began to apologize again, but she cut him off.

“No. None of that, Henry,” she insisted with a pointed emphasis on his real name. He could tell she was trying her best not to smile as she said it, probably strange and unnatural for her, if Hero had to guess. It was strange and unnatural for him too. No one ever called him that, ever. He had, of course, told her that she could if she wanted, but she never had—not until now that is. Hero’s eyes widened. Strangely enough, he felt a smile tugging at his mouth and the light flutter of a chuckle reverberating in his chest listening to her say it.

“I’m serious. I’m going to keep calling you that until you stop that,” she insisted. “Stop being a ‘Hero’—stop worrying about everybody else for just a second. It won’t kill you to be a little selfish for once…and it’ll honestly make the rest of us look better,” she quipped with a slight smile, clearly trying to brighten his mood.

It worked. His mouth twitched into a small smile as he replied dryly, “I’m sorry. I’ll try…”

“Good,” she said, but her expression softened as she reached out her hand to him. “But really…how are you? What do you need? What makes you happy when you feel like this?”

Hero shrugged his shoulders. If he was being honest, he didn’t know—even after all these years, he didn’t know, but… just having someone there, having someone listen to him…he already felt better. His face softened, and he felt something warm spreading through his chest as he met her kind eyes.

“Maybe a hero sandwich?” he shrugged his shoulders with a gentle smile, and her face brightened.

She gently nudged him in the arm before playfully taking his spatula. “Great,” she said. “I’ll make you one.”

[counselorssoapbox]

Polishing the manuscript.

Polishing the manuscript,Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com Polishing the manuscript. By David Joel Miller, writer, blogger, and mental health professional. My journey from writing something to making it readable. It’s a long process with many steps to transform that finished manuscript into a book that’s published and available for purchase. Each one of these steps has a learning curve. I’m learning…

[flufftober]

🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our fourth annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃

We’re so excited to be back and have you here once again!

As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, you can either use our 31 regular prompts or enjoy a little challenge 😏

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask.

And now, for the challenge...

Prompt Extras

We love to see how many of you get inspired by our prompts every year - be it by the original list or the Prompt Extras. Once again we're offering you that option and you're more than welcome to replace prompts from the original list if they don't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.

As has become tradition, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer a little challenge: five angsty prompts for you to turn fluffy!

If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself even further - you can also mix them all together!

So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚

We hope you like these prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

Addendum: We do not allow AI creations of any kind.

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're newer to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #flufftober2024 Please make sure there is NO SPACE between flufftober and 2024! We will NOT be checking the other tag this year!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober 2024 (either as flufftober2024 or as flufftober_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

2. “Left. Other left!”

3. Favorite Scent

4. Market Day

5. Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

6. Mistaken Identity

7. Hoodie Weather

8. Chopping & Piling Wood

9. “Don’t do that!” - “But…”

10. Bet, Game, Contest

11. Ingredients & Spells

12. “This is spooky.” - “Really?”

13. Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

14. Fantasy AU/Mundane AU

15. “What are you wearing?” - “It’s laundry day!”

16. Yes, No, Maybe

17. Only One Bed

18. Bewitched

19. Yarn

20. Paw

21. Bonfire

22. Heirloom

23. Stormy Night

24. Comfort Food

25. Haunted House

26. “I can’t find it.”

27. Afternoon Stroll

28. Lucky Charm

29. Time Capsule

30. “Forever?”

31. Make a Wish

Prompt Extras

Last Year's Favorites

Alt 1: “I’ve got you”

Alt 2: Rainy Day

Alt 3: “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”

Alt 4: “I hate it” - “No, you don’t”

Alt 5: Porch Swing

Challenge "Make it Fluffy!"

Alt 6: Gravestone

Alt 7: Getting Revenge

Alt 8: Written but never sent

Alt 9: Suddenly Severed Communication

Alt 10: Rejected, Betrayed, Exiled, Left Behind

[moonchild1]

 kim taehyung fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hello everyone i know it's been a while since i posted, work has been hectic, but i got some time and managed to finish a list so please enjoy i have a few lists ready to post so i'll que them up... here's my all time favourite taehyung fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, leave a heart, reblog or even leave a message or feedback under their posts i know they would appreciate hearing from you, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed you will be blocked ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics or just share what your reading right now i'd love hearing from you 🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

only here to sin by @gimmethatagustd s a ft. namjoon

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

our gray winter by @vyduan s a ft. jjk

“Were you looking for this?” Taehyung asked as he handed you the box of tampons you always bought. He remembered. You wanted to sink into the floor and die. Instead, you recalled your manners and said, “Thanks.” You put the box in your basket. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He beamed at you. It was patently unfair how he could look all glowy and soft while you looked… not like that. “Of course, Y/N.” If possible, Taehyung’s voice dropped even lower. “I remember everything about you.”

schemes and tricks to win her heart by @crystaljins ft. ksj

Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course.

camboy!tae by @hisunshiine f s a

Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. 

tolerate it by @archivedkookie s a

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

what was hidden by @daechwitatamic s a ft. myg

This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

complete faith by @daechwitatamic

It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. jjk

it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung. 

with a brush of fate by @yoongiofmine f s a

Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

groovy by @kinktae f s a

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister. 

tempting by @/kinktae s a

Y/N is an angel. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She runs into a demon but, luckily for her, that demon doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, he just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

talk by @gukslut f s a

Finals week is kicking your ass, thank goodness you have a friend to help you relieve some stress. It’s a great arrangement, as long as no one finds out... as long as you don’t catch feelings. What could go wrong?

somebody to love by @cutechim

kim taehyung wins the heart of everyone he meets, and you—his self-proclaimed work “nemesis”—are not an exception.

tear you apart by @bratkook s

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear, ‘I wanna fucking tear you apart.’ demon au

clairevont by @/bratkook f s a ft. jjk

The second year of college starts off with a bang until you find yourself tangled in between your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung and his innocent room mate Jeon Jungkook.

free use by @littlemisskookie f s a

You tell your crush you want him to have full control of you in every way always. He obliges.

lost myth of truelove by @sugalaritae f s a

for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

because of you, blue by @ugh-yoongi f s a

nearly a year out from your breakup with taehyung, jin begs you for help saving his failing restaurant. the two of you aren’t exactly friends, but you feel some stupid sense of obligation and, really, what’s the worst that could happen?

true love by @jjkeverlast f s a

in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash s a

The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath.  All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

baby, baby by @hobiwonder ft. pjm f s a

When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

entangled by @caelesjjk ft. jjk s a

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well. Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

buzzed by @junqkook f s a

maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

queen cobra by @fantasybangtan f s a

when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

pulse by @rohobi f s a

You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you're pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital. 

things we don't say by @wintaerbaer f s a

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

mars by @to-star-lake s a

ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung

satisy by @suga-kookiemonster f s a

 “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

no kisses by @icedmatchatae f s a

It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

beyond desire by @strwberrytae s a

it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

one-shot

crazy for you by @oddinary4bts f s a

 you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

seventeen times 17 by @cutaepatootie f s a

You loved him Seventeen Times 17.

ten out of ten by @shadowkoo f s a

For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?

under wraps by @jungkxook f s

there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae f s a

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

any way you want it by @noteguk s

in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

sharing is caring by @jjkpls f s ft. pjm

Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice.

the end of all things (and the beginning of us) by @/kidguk f s a

the end of the world has come and passed, but there is still much to live for. there’s hope, there’s tomorrow, and there’s that guy you met while scavenging for supplies in an abandoned cinema. turns out he hates being alone, and the feeling is mutual.

aberrant by @kth1 f s

Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.

lost in you by @/jjkeverlast f s a

the infamous kim taehyung, campus fuckboy and heartthrob is much more than you thought after an unexpected night.

the dinner date by @diortae f (ao3)

pretending to be on a date with your best friend to get a free meal at the fancy restaurant jeongguk works weekends at doesn’t sound so terrible, all things considered. there’s just one small problem: you’re pretty sure you’re in love with the aforementioned best friend.

until yesterday by @jimlingss f s a

You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

the forsaken by @yoonia s a ft. knj

In order to save your people from the danger of drought and hunger, your father had sent you out on a mission across the ocean to find the heart of nature that could bring back the prosperity which your land had long lost. As the Chief’s daughter, you took the mission as your responsibility, even if you had to let the man that vexes you the most join you in your journey, even if you had to ignore the Elders’ warnings about the dangers and all the vicious monsters lying in wait.

blacklist by @httpjeon f s a ft. jjk

after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon f s

↬you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

farner boy i love you by @strawberrynamjoon f s a

↬Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

waterloo by @/kinktae f s a

↬Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn't believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love."

get you the moon by @bymoonchild f s a

↬Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

fate of the fast & furious by @prolixitae f s

↬you’re a first-generation college student and taehyung is the hot guy with a love for motorbikes who lands the job babysitting for your family while you’re away.

fast & fearless: what comes first by @/prolixitae

↬taehyung is used to earning his keep through illegal street races, and he’s got every reason to win that upcoming promise of prize money for an old friend. but when the odds don’t fall in his favor, he turns to babysitting. enter, you: a first-generation college student with too much to lose to be spending all your time with a troublemaking biker. who also happens to babysit for your kid brother.

cobalt blue by @hobivore s ft. jjk

↬you ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls. 

let it snow by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

muse by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

falling, falling gone by @johobi f

↬Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

new tricks by @geniuslab f s

↬When your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

guns & roses by @chateautae f s

↬he was cold-blooded, stone-faced and ruthless; a formidable force anyone in the criminal underworld sought to destroy. and he didn’t care, so long as it was never you.. anything but you.

saudade by @chateautae f s a

↬a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

strands by @xjoonchildx s a

↬taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

cheap skate by @/gukslut f s

↬Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting. 

definition of love by @taegularities f s a

↬When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

↬looking for other kth fics or the other members check out my library for more

[fandomtrumpshate]

Resisting Mass Deportation: What Can You Do?

One of the scariest things we're facing under the next presidential administration is the threatened mass deportation of immigrants. For many of us, it's hard to imagine what we could possibly do to fight back against the disruption of our communities and our neighbors' lives.

Luckily, there are organizations and community groups that have been fighting back for years -- and winning -- and they're ready to teach us how to help.

Mijente, a digital organizing hub for the Latinx community, is running a series of trainings on zoom entitled Deportation Defense: Skill Up + Crew Up. The trainings will be December 10th, 13th and 16th from 7:30-9pm ET, and they are free! You can register here.

Make the Road New York, an immigrant rights advocacy organization, has put together a Deportation Defense Manual to provide information, resources and a guide to create a plan of action to protect targeted communities. (Some of the information is specific to New York, but much of it is applicable in every state.)

If you're interested in learning more about these kinds of resources and opportunities, please follow the soon-to-be-rebooted @fthaction. FTHAction is going to be dedicated to helping you get involved and take action in concrete, hands-on ways. We're not ready to spill the beans on all of our plans yet, but they include:

101-level resources about mutual aid, political organizing, and getting involved in community groups

guides and directories to help you find local organizations to work with

personal activism stories from other fans

regular updates about trainings, workshops and other opportunities to learn from and connect with seasoned organizers

Once FTHAction is up and running, we will mostly keep the two blogs separate (though we'll reblog the first few FTHA posts to this blog.) But if you already know you're going to be interested in @fthaction, now is a great time to follow!

[omegathetaone]

Also, thinking abt. making some Meet & Greet type posts for headmates who want to introduce themselves to a slightly more in-depth degree. Thinking about also adding a rentry list for those who want to express themselves but on the more down-low side of things. Maybe adding those posts to the already created introduction post so that it's less in-your-face as the Meet & Greet posts. Dunno, we love organizing everything hundreds of times over with different platforms/utilities because it's fun and keeps us busy lol

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 2

summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 8.1k

a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 3 (coming soon)

As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places. 

You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks. 

You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.

“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.

You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.

But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”

Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”

You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.

“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.

You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”

You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.

You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.

“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again. 

“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”

“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.

“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.

A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you. 

He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.

Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up. 

He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”

“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”

Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”

“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”

You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear. 

“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”

“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”

Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms. 

He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now. 

After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.

Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.

“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.

You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”

“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.

“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”

“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.

“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”

You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.

—

You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump. 

“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”

You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside. 

He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.

There’s only one way to find out, you decide.

You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?

You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.

But you aren’t so fortunate.

Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive. 

One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.

You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.

The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones. 

Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.

Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been. 

You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch. 

You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen. 

When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.

“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.

“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”

“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.

Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?

You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.

—

Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.

“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.

“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.

“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”

Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive. 

Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.

“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female. 

“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.

Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him. 

“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”

“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.

“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.

He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.

“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs. 

“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.

“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.

“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”

His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.

“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.

“T-the box… I saw—”

“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”

Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.

“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”

“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”

Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.

Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears. 

Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.” 

He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.

“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”

He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.  

As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.

“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.

Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.

“Huh?”

“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”

He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”

You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.

If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.

“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.

“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.

“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.

“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”

His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.

“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.

“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.

“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”

Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole. 

“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”

“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”

He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…

Like one of them. 

“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time. 

A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so. 

Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.

“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.” 

Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway. 

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.

Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.

Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget. 

“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.

“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”

“See… what coming?”

“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”

His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?

“You want me to… to kill—”

“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another. 

You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.

Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”

His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.

“I love you too, Joel.”

The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.

You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger @hjzghi-blog @natalieispunk (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[the-maddened-hatter]

Alright so I pretty much said all of this verbatim on a reblog of someone else's post, but I wanted to put it here on my blog too.

As I've mentioned before, I would *very* much like to see Peri canonically having a disability that causes him to use his wand/cane and not just have it be an accessory, and so I analyzed the episodes he's in that I've been able to see so far and came up with a few observations:

As much as I'd be unopposed to seeing it portrayed, leg issues don't really seem like a major deal to fairies in general given as Cosmo misplaced his for most of an episode and a pair of sticks were a good enough replacement for him to have fun at the arcade in human form (without even drawing human attention)

And Peri can apparently use his powers as listed above without his cane since he doesn't always immediately have it on his person (especially since Dev & Hazel took his cane in Lost in Fairy World and he didn't have any power or mobility problems)

But!

I *could* easily see him having some kind of magical fatigue issue or magical equivalent of hypotonia or balance disorder, since he's shown to be

very tired after a morning spent magically creating cupcakes (a probably small but very repetitive task that leaves him running low on energy)

When his stationary float is disrupted he remains seated instead of floating back up again

3. A minor contact/startle reflex is enough to disrupt his hover and cause him to immediately fall pretty hard if not very far

4. speaking of distance, he is shown to sometimes float a bit lower than his parents, which, while not consistent and likely just an animation choice, could tie in with the other points to support the diagnosis theory

However, pain may admittedly be more of a factor than the above images suggest,

he may not just be tired from shape shifting like I'd thought since right before that he was walking (albeit in horse form) and afterwards (low) cloud float is apparently easier and faster for him than just quickly trotting past his parents

He also didn't really seem to be having too much of a problem at all before he hit the ground

Where it goes to a definitely tired and possibly more pained look.

Maybe he didn't want to tell Dev that it was painful either out of pride or because he didn't want to potentially upset him and just went with "tired" because that was what he assumed. It'd be interesting to see if it happens again in a different form.

Personally I think it'd be cool to see both and have it be a chronic condition (directly magical or otherwise) that he already had before the series began (diagnosed or not).

If he's the first fairy kid born in a long time he probably would have been monitored very closely, but it may have taken a while for doctors to notice a problem since there was little reference for comparison and may have even caused some potentially serious problems that gave Comso & Wanda a bad scare, which could tie in pretty well with their developing a high amount of over protectiveness of him, and that in turn leading him to try and behave too far in the other direction (not seeking help when he really does need it, pushing himself way too hard and suffering the fallout which he then tries to hide, ect)

If he's undiagnosed but having the problems it could be interesting to see sort of an inversion of the "character must learn to accept their disability" storyline wherein he's more connecting certain events & symptoms and we get to see him adapting to accommodations and letting himself try different approaches moreso than to having new symptoms (though we as the audience may see these symptoms more or behaviors contextualized as symptoms where they weren't necessarily before).

Idk either way I just think it would be cool (and I've probably put away more analysis into this than will ever pay off lol)

also to everyone who draws him as a disabled mobility device user: ILY please draw more of it it feeds my soul

[jjunieworld]

#WIP ⟢ THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ˒˒ 심재윤 ⨾ 박종성 ▸  part two of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

the death of your grandma has you returning back to your mother’s seaside hometown—the same town you left jake in a year ago—for good. now that you’re back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesn’t help that now you’re caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ if you didn’t like reader in the first part then you won’t like her in this one, reader’s grandma passing and mentions of reader’s dad passing, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, arguing, semi-public sex, size training, corruption kink full smut tags in actual post . . . !

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ this was a long time coming lmao i’m so so sorry to everyone who has been waiting (◞‸◟；) with my month long break and adjusting to writing again i’m finally ready to start working on this series again! this is my main priority so i will try to get it out as soon as i possibly can!! this post will be updated as i work on it! ^^ all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! ♡

release date ⸝⸝⸝ sept 20th, 2024 ⋆ progress updates here!

∿ [ teaser wc: 0.7k ] ∿ [ current wc: 26.1k ] ⋆ [ continue to . . . wips , masterlist ]

send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!

⟢ READ HERE!

your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your mother’s seaside hometown—your new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you weren’t able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.

you never thought you’d be back here, never thought that you’d ever say goodbye to your own hometown—which was also your late father’s—but here you were.

when your mom told you that you’d be moving here permanently you didn’t know how to feel. one one hand, you understood your mom’s decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything must’ve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.

it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didn’t think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still haven’t answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.

but you also couldn’t help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldn’t help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think you’re finally ready to face him again.

to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that he’d keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.

and if he didn’t protect your heart, you’d pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.

“y/n? are you listening?” you heard your mother’s voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.

you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your aunt’s house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.

“mhm,” you mumbled, though you definitely weren’t listening.

your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. “is it that boy from last summer?” what was his name? jacob?”

“jake,” jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.

your mom snapped her fingers. “jake! that’s it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! there’s more wonderful people here than just jake.” she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.

it wasn’t “just jake” that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didn’t want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.

getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.

jake’s letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you must’ve read it a million times over now and still you could barely wrap your head around it.

“two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, i’ll wait for you.���

it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that you’re back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.

you: meet me at our spot.

⟢ READ HERE!

taglist 1﹙ OPEN! ﹚⸝⸝⸝ click here for series taglist! 🏷️ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @un06 @nenesz @branchrkive @dreamiestay @lilyuwon @ghstzzn @kaykay11sworld @kirinaa08 @cherlv @zl-world @cloud-lyy @sunpov @samouryed @immelissaaa @y4wnjunz @who-tf-soddhi @minaateez @jajenoric @lilactangerine @chaconadine @americanojake @in-somnias-world @bobaikeu @cupidscourt @inkigayocamman @nctsshoes2 @helenngxz @jakeswifez @usnve @tasnim10 @deobitifull @won4me @zeeloveshee

send an ask or reply to this post if you want to be tagged when finished! minors and ageless/blank blogs will not be tagged. please have a visible age. my permanent taglist will already be tagged!

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , wips , taglist ] all feedback and asks on suggestions are welcome! ♡

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[bogleech]

Also going to finally make a pinned post for all my stuff:

BOGLEECH - my tumblr blog is named after this website I created around 2002 and still update. Thousands of pages worth of content focusing on creature design as well as real biology. My review of the original Legend of Zelda monsters might be the most straightforward example of my articles. Links to some of the most popular content:

POKEMON REVIEW ARCHIVE: - I rate and review each and every single Pokemon, in Pokedex order, on its merits as a creature design. I also do so as someone whose favorite animals are all parasites.

DIGIMON REVIEW ARCHIVE - same, but more chaotic.

CREEPYPASTA COOKOFF ARCHIVE - for several years I hosted a yearly writing contest before it grew too big for me to keep up with. There are over a thousand user submitted horror, fantasy, sci fi and surrealist stories here emphasizing unconventional, original ideas you seldom see from the "creepypasta" community!

The original "MORTASHEEN" Monster Archive - since the early 2000's I've created and illustrated more than 800 creatures and counting for my own monster-catching world, now set for release as a tabletop RPG setting.

AWFUL HOSPITAL: SERIOUSLY THE WORST EVER (page one): an interactive comedy-horror-sci-fi webcomic I started in 2014 about a medical facility that could maybe be better.

Some of my other internet stuff:

PATREON - constant work makes my patreon updates inconsistent, but the content backlog goes back years with a huge amount of exclusive art and writing. I try to put up new exclusive stuff whenever I can.

ETSY - I design all sorts of original enamel pins like these, plus I sell zero-maintenance terrarium plants (just leave them in a jar!), original books and other things!

COLOR THE ABYSS (available on the above etsy!) - a 30 page educational deep sea coloring book! Includes a few famous favorites like giant isopods and hagfish, but mostly focuses on less popular, often much weirder animals.

UNBELIEVABLE BUGS - also regularly restocked in the etsy store, 30 of the strangest and most surprising arthropods most people have likely never heard of, illustrated by myself and @revretch, written for even the youngest kids to understand (but will likely teach you something new at any age)

My Itch.io and Ko-fi - both sell digital versions of my books, including some creepypasta collections and my first novel, "Return of the Living," about a world of entirely ghosts suddenly dealing with the appearance of ghost-hunting monsters.

TWITCH CHANNEL - I now try to stream something at least monthly, sometimes weekly when possible, from horror games to books and art.

YOUTUBE CHANNEL - archives my twitch streams and other little things.

INSTAGRAM - look at pictures of my huge weird collection of toys and Halloween collectibles

BLUESKY - I'm going to put mainly just updates to my stuff on here. SEE ALSO:

HUMANS-B-GONE - a science fiction animated series by my partner @revretch, about a world of kaiju-size, technologically advanced insects and arachnids to whom vertebrates like us are just pesky little "gubs." Also has a tumblr account @humansbgone FINALLY, HERE'S MY GUIDE AND RESOURCE TO MAKING YOUR OWN INTERNET WEBSITE IN A FEW MINUTES WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF CODING

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn; 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, 

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door. 

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door. 

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out.  I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me. 

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears. 

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug. 

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place. 

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment. 

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since. 

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow. 

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face. 

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off. 

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?” 

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso. 

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me. 

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours. 

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway. 

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen.  Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender. 

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?” 

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms. 

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head. 

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry. 

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said.  Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit. 

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door. 

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made. 

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said. 

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore.  I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister. 

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car. 

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown. 

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need.  She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something. 

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time, 

TEE <3

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