#slash um. do not sleep

[mossflower]

mad what you can get done when you get up before 1pm

[themultifanshipper]

Really, even though you were friends, the last thing Logan should be asking the Williams HR representative about, in her office, is sex.

Warnings: oral, petnames, lots of petnames

Based on true events that happened to me last week. Only difference is it was in my appartment, and I didn't actually come.

Do I use too much italics? Probably. Do I care? Not one iota.

So yeah, this was probably breaching several clauses in both your contracts.

But Logan came into your office, looking a bit sheepish, and sat down on the grey sofa in the corner without a word. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just avoided your gaze.

"What can I do for you Logan?"

He didn't answer, just squinting at the floor, contemplative.

He came into your office quite often. Probably more than was strictly appropriate but after all, you used to be on the media team and had become friends with most of the drivers during your years at williams. Usually Logan and Alex (and occasionally others who "happened to be passing by") would come in for a chat, generally cheerful or angry or sad, depending on the kind of day they were having.

Today however, Logan was fully silent.

"Logan?"

He squinted again, this time at you, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"Lo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong"

He took a deep breath before responding.

"So you know I'm a virgin, right?"

You, in fact, did not know that. You didn't think you were that close a friend, although you didn't exactly mind. It was just a bit sudden.

"What?!"

"Well technically I had sex once but it went really badly. And I haven't had any practice since, because I'm scared of picking up girls because I don't know what I'm doing and I'm an F1 driver so I'm supposed to be having loads of sex but imagine I'm really bad and it got out, it would be super embarrassing and I'd have to ask you, my friend, for an NDA about bad sex, which is just another level of weird and I'd hate for you to stop tal-"

"Logan!"

He stopped ranting and looked at you, obviously feeling rather vulnerable.

"Logan... have you just come into my office to tell me you're inexperienced at sex?"

He pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yes"

"Okay.... why?"

"Because I want you to teach me how to pleasure a woman"

He looked you straight in the eyes, with way too much confidence for someone who was suddenly eligible for a lawsuit.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Logan, couldn't have waited until... oh I don't know, until we weren't in our workplace to ask me for sex?"

"Um... I guess?" He had the audacity to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. Do you uhh- not want to?"

You studied him for a second. What the fuck. It wasn't that the idea was unappealing, he was an attractive young driver with probably incredible stamina. Which is why you found the idea of him being inexperienced so odd. And why was he asking you for... guidance? A lesson? It was weird to think of him as anything other than your friend slash coworker Logan, who you had now known for nearly two years.

If someone had told you this morning that this is how your day was going to go, you would have told them to fuck off and gone back to sleep. You realised you must be taking too long to respond when Logan sighed and rubbed his face.

"Okay nevermind, I'm sorry I brought it up, we can just- pretend this conversation never happened"

He sounded almost sad as he got up to leave but stopped as you blurted out "No, wait!"

He stared at you questioningly.

"I'll do it" You sounded breathless "I'll teach you- how to do uhh... sex. With me."

His eyes lit up as he laughed "I hope you'll be more articulate than that "

"Oh fuck off" you hit his shoulder in retaliation "You're the one who looked like you were going to shit a brick when you walked in here!"

"Hey! That's a low blow" He pouted.

The atmosphere became more comfortable with the bickering but there was still an undercurrent of nervousness. He took a couple of steps towards you and leaned in but you stopped him with a hand on his unsurprisingly firm chest.

"You want to do this now?" You hissed "Are you fucking mental?"

He pouted again "why not, the bosses aren't here today, it's just us, and the engineers are working on the cars" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Well when you put it that way....

Fuck's sake.

You leaned in slowly, as if aiming for his mouth before swerving at the last second and pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Lock the door for me will you, darling?"

His eyes darkened "Yes ma'am" and he turned away to lock the door.

You sat down on the sofa and spread your legs, beckoning him over and silently motioning for him to kneel between them. He did so and put his hands on your thighs, then looked up at you expectantly.

Oh, right. You were supposed to be teaching him.

"Okay so first you're gonna want to get me naked"

He giggled at your obvious statement before hooking his fingers into your waistband. "Sure thing, princess" Pulling them down and off, underwear soon following as he let out a breath, eyes and hands roaming over your newly exposed skin. "Shit, you're already so wet." He looked up at you again.

"Can I?" He asked.

So polite.

"Be my guest" you smiled at him as he lowered his body. He kissed the inside of your thighs, slowly inching towards where you needed him most. When he got there, you let out a strained half-sigh half-moan as he licked a stripe from your taint to your clit. The noise made him look up as he licked his lips, eye contact making you shiver. He then spread your thighs further and immediately buried his face between them like man starved, making a valiant effort to find your clit with his tongue.

"A bit lower- lower- a bit right. Wait no, your right"

He followed your instructions dilligently and when he found it, he sucked on your clit with fervour, which made you gasp and let out a shaky moan. "There, right there." as your right hand weaved itself into his hair.

Eyes on yours, he blinked up at you and you nodded to tell him he was doing a good job. Satisfied, he carried on, closing his eyes in concentration.

You grabbed one of his hands and started licking at his fingers, it startled him a bit and he looked back up at you, still surprisingly efficient with his mouth. The sight was absolutely sinful, blonde hair a mess, eyes blown wide, tongue out, working over your flesh. When you sucked one of his fingers into your mouth, straight down to the knuckle, he groaned, the vibrations making your hips twitch. You slid a second finger into your mouth, then a third, ensuring they were nice and wet, then pulled them out. "You can start putting them inside now".

He put the first one in, reaching so much deeper than you could manage on your own, all the while still lapping at your clit. You were so wet it didn't take long for a second one to join as he pushed them in and out gently.

"Okay now sort of hook them upwards" you showed him the movement with your own hand and he nodded, hooking his fingers and it felt so good you moaned quite loudly, hoping none of the engineers would be passing by your part of the building. He put a third finger in and the stretch was delicious as he pressed upwards again and flattened his tongue over your clit.

You could slowly feel an orgasm building and he felt you clench around his fingers, going slightly faster with both his hand and mouth.

"Oh god whatever you do, do not stop!" You panted above him as he used his other hand to hook a leg over his shoulder and he sat up a bit, changing your position slightly and making his fingers hit even deeper inside you.

"Fuck!" You clenched around his fingers as you came hard and he slowed down, helping you ride it out for a while before you had to physically push him off because he wanted to seemingly carry on forever.

"Geez Lo, give a girl a minute, yeah?" You laughed, a bit out of breath. You felt boneless as Logan started kissing his way up your body and finally sealed his mouth over yours. His face was sticky, and your hands went to his hair and pulled on it, making him groan into the kiss. You pulled his head back and he whined, his hips bucking against the sofa, searching for some relief. You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Please" he panted. You glanced down.

"Need some help down there, soldier?"

He grinned, lopsided. "Sargeant, actually"

Oh yes, you were going to have some fun with this one.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

The Scenic Route

More dead boys! Post-canon, Payneland, pre-slash/getting together-ish, bestieism, bickering, sex talk/innuendo and soppiness. 2k. Enjoy!

Also on Ao3 (need to be signed in to read)

~

"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."

Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."

"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."

"He's just not used to taking the scenic route," Charles joked, nudging Edwin's shoulder. "Whole world out there if you look up from the crossword, mate."

"I've already finished the crossword," said Edwin.

"With my help," Crystal pointed out.

"I died in nineteen sixteen. How am I supposed to know which songstress recorded 'Strike Me Once More'?"

"’Hit Me Baby One More Time’," said Charles.

"Atrocious name for a song," Edwin muttered. "I was given to believe violence against women was frowned upon in this day and age. And yet here you are, making popular songs about it."

"It's a metaphor, innit?" said Charles. His brow furrowed. "I think. Haven't heard it."

"We get it. You're both old ," Crystal groaned. "Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep. Some of us still need to do that."

"You would've had more luck in my day," said Edwin, wrinkling his nose in distaste at their surroundings. "Decent benches, private compartments. Of course, travelling without a chaperone might’ve raised issues. I hardly think Charles and I count, given that no one but you can see us."

"And we're lads." Charles winked at her. "Fit, single lads."

Edwin gave him a withering look over his paper. "Yes, that as well." He flipped through to the personal ads, voice dry as a bone. "Lord only knows what tomfoolery we could be getting up to without supervision."

"No offense, Edwin," said Crystal. "But I don't see you and me getting up to 'tomfoolery' no matter what century we're in."

"Hm. Something else we can agree on."

"Well, I'm game," Charles grinned, folding his arms on the table and waggling his eyebrows. "Never done tomfoolery on a train before."

Crystal snorted. "Don't. Not fun. And don't ask me how I know that,” she said, cutting Charles off sharpish before he could quiz her. “Anyway, without Edwin's fancy private compartments your options are the bathroom or risk a sneaky handjob in your seat."

Edwin perked up. "There's that word again. Charles, you never did tell me what it means."

Charles winced. "Didn't I? Um. Right. Basically, yeah, it's when you..." 

"If you're gonna sit here giving grandpa a sex ed class, I am definitely getting up for coffee," Crystal muttered, throwing her coat aside and levering out of her seat. 

"Sure you don't wanna weigh in?" Charles called after her. He fully expected the middle finger she flipped him before stomping off down the aisle.

"So," said Edwin primly, newspaper set down in exhange for his notebook. He was poised and at the ready with his pen in two seconds flat. "Handjobs."

Charles squirmed. "It's not exactly arcane knowledge, mate," he said, struggling to look Edwin in the eye. "It's when you..." he made a strangled noise, and a descriptive hand gesture. "Y'know. For another bloke."

Edwin watched his hand, and realisation dawned. "Ah,"  he said, slowly tucking his book and pen away. "Indeed." He sniffed. "Crude name."

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Well. I haven't an equivalent term for the act as... bequeathed to another, so to speak.”

Charles bit his lip, holding back a grin. Who the fuck else in his life would use bequeathed in normal conversation? In a sex conversation? He crossed his arms before he could do something stupidly soppy and fond, like drop his head onto Edwin's shoulder and ask him to list his favourite words.

Edwin carried right on, oblivious to Charles' little moment. “But my father would've referred to the solo variation as ‘self-abuse’."

Charles snorted. "'Course he would."

"Yes, it was... a different time." He picked up his newspaper with an air of rigid discomfort. "People are certainly much more liberal in that regard nowadays."

"Yeah. Nowadays." Charles watched him closely. He'd always been a buttoned-up sort of chap, but. Since all that stuff in Port Townsend, with Monty and that bloody Cat King he'd... opened up, sort of. Wasn't going out snogging people or reading dirty mags in the office or anything, 'least not as far as Charles knew. But there was a curiosity in him, now. Something in those keen eyes that sparked up, latched onto certain things. All still wrapped up in good old fashioned Edwardian manners, of course, but Charles knew Edwin like the back of his hand – and he knew what his face did when he was interested in something. Just so happened what he'd been interested in lately was, well. Blokes. Some more than others. "You never try it then?" Charles teased. "The old, uh. Self-abuse?"

Edwin couldn't exactly, literally blush on account of being dead, but Charles could spot the signs. "Privacy was hard to come by," he said, carefully measured.

Charles raised his eyebrow. "But not impossible?"

"...No. No, not impossible." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should change the subject. Crystal will be returning shortly. Impolite to discuss it in mixed company."

Charles chuckled and sank back in his seat, casting his eyes out the window. The countryside rolled by, arid and golden. "Never been to France before."

"I suppose we haven't had any cases lead us here," said Edwin. "Nor have we had the need to travel through it," he added, voice clipped and curt. "Up until recently , that is."

"Got a right bee in your bonnet about the bloody travelling, haven't you?" said Charles. "C'mon, mate. Not like you and me are short of time, innit? Got all eternity to sit on bloody trains if we want to."

"I can think of better things to do with our time."

"Well – think of Crystal, yeah?" Charles reasoned. "I mean, she's alive. She's got what, eighty years or something left to be alive. How d’you think she feels 'bout having to spend half of it on public fucking transport?"

Edwin sighed. "Being alive was rather inefficient, in retrospect."

"I'm just saying... don't hurt to keep her company, eh?" He offered his best winning smile – and he had a good winning smile. “She's one of us, in't she?

Edwin rolled his eyes, but for once he didn't argue – Charles had him, and he knew it. "I'll... endeavour to be lenient," he offered.

"That's right big of you,” said Charles. He let their knees knock under the table. "Don't worry, not saying you have to be nice or anything. Just give the grumbling a rest for a bit, yeah?"

Edwin smirked. "Very wise of you to manage your expectations. 'Nice' is not a particular specialty of mine."

"I know." Charles grinned. "That's alright. I like it when you're a rude prick."

Edwin looked at him, and the hard lines of his face softened some. "Yes, you do seem to," he said; light, fond . "An ailment for which I fear there's no cure."

Charles ducked his head, smiling something daft. "We should do France properly sometime,” he said. “Go to Paris. Bet there's a load of old bookshops and that in Paris.”

Edwin brightened, with a little happy hum. "Capital idea, Charles. I haven't had reason to practice my French in some years." Then he sighed, proper dramatic. "Though I suppose we'll be taking the train again."

"Depends on if Crystal wants to come."

"Why wouldn't she?" Some of the stiffness had returned to Edwin's shoulders, but he was doing an alright job of hiding it. Anyone who wasn't Charles might not've noticed at all. "I daresay you two will want to take in the romantic sights while I peruse the booksellers."

Charles chuckled. 

Edwin flashed him an annoyed look. "It's a fair assumption."

"Yeah, well, we're not exactly like that."

"Is that so?"

Charles shrugged. "Had a bit of fun, but. She's still figuring some stuff out. Not looking for anything serious."

Edwin hummed, tightly, eyes fixed on the newspaper. 

Charles swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat, and flicked the corner of the paper to get his attention. "Besides: had some stuff to figure out myself, too, haven't I?"

Edwin froze, the paper rustling in his hands as his fingers tightened on it. "Oh." He glanced furtively to Charles, while obviously trying not to look furtive. For a detective, he was a right crap actor, sometimes. "Yes. How is that... progressing?"

Charles rolled his neck, tilting his face in Edwin's direction. Edwin looked right strange, perched all prim and proper on the polyester train seat with its bowling alley fabric pattern. Charles could almost squint and see through time, to how he would've looked on a train in the nineteen hundreds; surrounded by wood panels and velvet, by family who wouldn't touch him unless it was to fix his hair, straighten his bowtie. He looked out of place here – but he was right next to Charles, so actually, he was exactly where he ought to be. And the afternoon sun on the yellow fields looked dead pretty scattered across his cheekbones and his nose and that neat, handsome sweep of dark hair from his temple.

Yeah. Charles was figuring a thing or two out, alright.

He looked away and fidgeted, trying to shut his eyes and settle back in his seat in a way that looked relaxed, unbothered – and not like he was trying to avoid looking too closely at his best mate's lips or his eyes or his long, clever fingers. "Let's make it just a you and me thing," he said. "Paris, I mean."

There was a moment of quiet, then the sound of Edwin's newspaper coming to rest on the plastic table. "...Yes. Yes, I'd like that."

Charles smiled, and let the rhythmic motion of the train roll over him – if he had a heart, it'd be thumping in time to the clickety-clack on the tracks. He couldn't sleep, not even in the dark behind his eyelids, but he could daydream. Imagine that he could feel the sun on his face, the vibration at his back.

And while he was at it, he could reach out, just a little, and hook his pinky finger through Edwin's. Just 'cause.

A very, very small laugh escaped Edwin – almost like a runaway gasp. "I suppose," he said, mildly. "The scenic route has its charms."

 ~

Soon, the thud of Crystal's boots rejoined them, along with Crystal herself. Charles didn't even need to open his eyes, so he didn't bother.

“Charles,” Crystal greeted – and then, curtly: “Edwin.”

“Crystal.” Edwin replied, with matching coolness. But the ice soon broke on an audible, weary sigh. “Truce?” he offered.

She took a loud, long, deliberate swig of coffee before answering. Her and Edwin were peas in a dramatic, petty little pod, much as neither of them wanted to admit it. “...Truce.”

Edwin cleared his throat. “Yes. Very good.” Then, after a moment: “Thank you for your patience.”

The sounds of Crystal getting resettled stopped abruptly. Charles opened his eyes and found her half in her seat, hand and coffee cup on the table, staring at Edwin like he'd grown an extra head.

"So you're in, like… a good mood, now?” she said. “That was almost an apology. What'd I miss?”

Charles glanced sideways. Edwin had his face angled to the window – and a small, soft smile barely tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh," said Edwin lightly. His finger twitched around Charles’, just a little. Almost a squeeze. "Nothing of import."

Charles fought – and failed – to suppress a grin.

Crystal looked between them. "Charles. You didn't like..." She made the same crude handjob gesture he'd done earlier. "Give him a demonstration ...?"

Edwin squawked in indignation, Charles burst into surprised, sheepish laughter; and the golden fields outside the window gave way to row upon endless row of lavender and grapevine as Provence rolled alongside them, painting the plodding hours in green and purple.

And Edwin only complained about it ten, maybe eleven more times. New record, that!

~

Hope you liked it! Consider dropping us a comment or a reblog if you did 😊

Wrote this in part to distract myself from a horrifically busy train ride, in part as wish fulfilment while daydreaming about a world where the British public transit system isn't in shambles and I can get on a cross country train that isn't cancelled and sit in my pre-reserved seat as planned. Written and posted on my phone so apologies if that's reflected in the form and formatting!

Til next time!

[littlemissthunderstorms]

dream report

sub humbug alex x soft/rough(ish) dom reader

synopsis: tending to alex after he has a particular dream

based off of this request, (much appreciated, thank you for sharing your ideas!! ❤️)

i’ve been a bit too obsessed with humbug alex recently, he’s just so fuckable kissable. on that note, enjoy!

———

about 20 minutes ago, you’d woken up for no apparent reason. you figured you’d drift back into your previous ever so peaceful slumber, but you were wrong.

so now, very much annoyed at your minds inability to fall back asleep, you stared at the wall, mindlessly observing how the moonlight ever so slightly lit up the back of the curtains, the drapes allowing the softest light to mix amongst the darkness the room withheld.

whilst lost in various, mundane thoughts, you sensed your lover shuffling a bit beside you. you turned over to watch him, deciding he was a prettier sight than the wall. his long brown hair splayed across the pillow, curls mussed from sleep. you smiled softly, ever so tenderly tucking a strand away from his face, careful not to wake him.

as you gazed at him, you noticed his lips parting in a small whimper, a sound much too similar to the ones he made when you were intimate. his soft whimpers continued, his hips shuffling a bit under the blankets.

at first, you assumed he must be having some sort of nightmare, but you were proved wrong when a rather loud moan escaped his mouth, followed by a mumble slash whisper that conveyed something along the lines of ‘holy fuck.’

you tried to conceal your laugh but failed, giggling enough for him to jolt awake. you immediately felt bad for waking him, mumbling “shit, sorry.”

alex looked up at you with his sleepy, hazy brown eyes and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. you adored him like this, all sleepy and soft. “fun dream eh?” you teased. alex’s cheeks flushed a hot red, the comment snapping him out of his half-asleep, half-awake state.

he looked at you, puzzled. “how the fuck do you know?”

you smirked. “because i heard you.”

he covered his face with his hands at your response and you grabbed his wrists in return, sitting up and holding his wrists so they lay on either side of his head. “don’t be embarrassed, it was cute.” he blushed again as you leaned down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his open mouth, sitting up some more so you were now straddling him.

“tell me…. what was it about?” you whispered, evoking chills down his neck. he gulped, trying to regain composure. he didn’t know where to start. the dream was more so in glimpses and flashes, not a fluid scene but god, it did something to him. it was the sort of dream that would loop round’ his mind all day, giving him butterflies every time the images flashed across his mind.

“i- i don’t really know, but um…” he suddenly got a bit shy, breaking eye contact momentarily before he continued. “you were fucking me in the studio,” he flustered, biting the inside of his cheek.

you grinned. “yeah baby? did you like it?”

he nodded, eyes glazing over with need as he gazed up at you, his hips shifting a bit. you leaned in, soft hands cradling his sleepy face as you kissed him with a certain fervor, your tongue sliding against his. he whimpered softly into your mouth, provoking a eager smile from you.

once pulling away from the kiss, you rolled off of him and back over to your side of the bed. “welp, goodnight,” you smiled innocently.

alex looked wildly offended and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “you okay?” you teased, pretending to be confused.

he grabbed your arm. “you can’t just do that to me.” you knitted your brows. “what?” he sighed. “you can’t just kiss me like that after i had a dream about you fucking me and then go back to sleep.”

you sat up, bringing one hand up to tuck a loose strand out of his face, and then intertwining your fingers in the back of his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “oh alexander, tell me what you want then, hm? use your words.”

his hands traveled just under the hem of your shirt, his fingers pressing into your warm skin. “please, fuck me momma.” he kissed your cheek.

heat flooded to your core at the nickname, and you smirked. “since you asked so nicely.” without warning you positioned yourself so you were on his lap, then pushing him down so he lay flat on the mattress. you took his hands, interlocking your fingers as you pinned his wrists on either side of his head once more.

you nuzzled your face into his neck, pressing slow, sweet kisses that quickly turned into small bites and licks. he was immediately a whimpering mess under you, his hips wriggling as he panted.

you made your way down to his collarbone, which was partly exposed from the large shirt he wore to sleep. you continued to build him up, leaving hickeys and kisses along his shoulders.

eventually, you were pushing his t shirt up, nuzzling your nose into his stomach and pressing soft kisses to it. you grinned at the way his stomach rose and fell in tandem with his shaky breaths.

looking up at him with glazy eyes, you trailed your open mouth down his lower stomach, admiring the way his soft hair framed his face, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. you pulled alex’s tight boxers down, revealing his almost painful erection.

you barely touched him, taking delight in watching him squirm as you kitten licked the pre cum off his tip. “oh fuck…” he tipped his head back, quickly positioning to look at you once again.

looking up at him, you let a thick strand of drool fall from your open mouth, dribbling down his length. “please, please touch me,” the boy hissed.

you planted a soft kiss on the tip, smiling up at him. “shh shh, keep quiet now, don’t fuss,” you taunted. deciding you’d teased him enough for now, you wrapped your hand around his base, pumping up and down as you sucked his tip into your mouth.

the noises that left his mouth had you squeezing your thighs together, arousal sure to have your underwear soaked by the end of this. savoring the noises he made, you slowly started taking more of him in your mouth, drool coating his length.

alex tangled his fingers in your hair, bucking his hips up as to fuck into your mouth. almost immediately you pulled away, evoking a strangled moan from the boys lips. you sat up, moving to now straddle him again, hovering over his stomach, leaving his cock aching and unattended.

“who’s in control baby? tell me,” you demanded, eyes harsh. alex gazed up at you, immediately regretting his actions. he stuttered, not being able to form coherent words. you grabbed his hair and pulled rather hard, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. “what’s that honey? speak up.”

he whimpered. “you momma, y- you’re in charge m’ sorry.” his eyes teared up a bit and you kissed his cheek, soothingly rubbing his arm. “atta boy, don’t let it happen again.” he nodded quickly, hands gripping your waist.

deciding he didn’t deserve your mouth anymore, you shuffled a bit so you were now hovering over his cock, one hand resting on his lower stomach. he was aching, begging for you to touch him. if he really wanted to, he could angle his hips as to rub against your thigh. that would relieve some of the ache surely, but nevertheless, he wanted to be good for you so he instead gripped the sheets, trying his best to ignore the impulse.

you pushed your underwear down your thighs, kicking them off. you then instructed alex to remove his shirt. he did so immediately, as did you. alex’s gaze fell to your cunt, licking his lips at the way arousal dripped down your inner thighs.

equally eager, you positioned his tip against your entrance, hissing as you sunk down, his thick cock stretching you out so perfectly. you bit your lip, the slight sting from how big he was taking a moment to fade away. heat flooded through your lower stomach as you moaned, alex now fully inside you.

you leaned forward, one hand on the mattress as to hold you up as the other cradled alex’s face. you leaned your forehead against his, soft breaths fanning across your cheek as he whimpered and panted.

“i love you,” he gasped as you rose up and sunk down on him again. you smiled, kissing his nose. “i love you too.” you kissed the corners of his mouth as your hips met his repeatedly, drinking up his little whimpers and gasps.

as much as you liked to be rough when you were in charge, you couldn’t help getting all lovey and sweet with him. the way his doe eyes looked up at you, all gentle and soft had you kissing his face, cradling his cheeks, and nuzzling your face in his neck. you’d give him the world.

his eyes squeezed shut and then languidly fought to open again as you had picked up the pace. your thighs began to grow weak with pleasure, your soft moans and sighs frequently getting louder.

“good boy, letting me fuck him so good, that feel good baby?” you rasped, knowing how much your dirty talk turned him on. he moaned, his nails scratching down your back as he frantically nodded. “yes momma- fuck so good.”

you were impossibly wet, for your arousal had dripped down his length and onto his inner thighs. you repositioned your hips a bit, your face quickly falling into the crook of his damp neck, his cock ever so deliciously stroking your walls in all the right places.

“f-fuck, i’m close mommy,” he gasped, his hands grasping at your back and shoulders, nose pressing into the side of your hair. you pulled back, positioning your mouth over his. you were a bit surprised from how quick it’d taken you both to get close. “me too, cum with me sweetheart.”

and with that, you kissed him, riding him a bit harder than before as your hips started to falter. you slightly bit his plump bottom lip, starting to feel the coil of pleasure build up in your stomach.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he hissed, nails digging deep into your back and scratching as he came, the pain from the scratches and the feeling of his hot release coating your walls sending you over the edge.

you clenched around him at the mere intensity of your orgasm, yelping his name as you rode out your high. once you started to come down, you nearly collapsed onto alex from how tired your arms and legs were.

he chuckled a bit, helping you off of him. once you were now laying down on your side, he nuzzled into you. you brought your arm up to hold his head as he tucked his face into your breasts, his nose grazing the side of your boob. you laughed softly. “you alright baby boy?”

he nodded, still panting. you knew he usually needed a couple of minutes to fully come back, so you cuddled him close, soothingly running your fingers through his damp brown curls, occasionally kissing the corners of his mouth.

moving him off of you a bit, you quickly threw on his shirt and grabbed the glass of water from your nightstand, helping him sit up and take a few sips. he smiled at you sleepily, eyes reflecting shimmery stars as you kissed his cheek, reveling in his musky scent.

“that was.. wow,” he finally mumbled, coming out of his hazy state. you flashed him a sweet smile. “i’m glad i could make you feel good.” you pulled him into your arms again, rubbing his back.

“im sorry about your back, it must sting,” he whispered, referring to the way his nails dug deep into your back when he came. you shook it off. “s’ okay baby, means i fucked you good.” it did sting, but you truly didn’t mind, it was the kind of pain you were proud of, symbolizing how good you were at making your boyfriend cum.

he grinned, yawning. you kissed him once more. “lets get some sleep alright? you’ve gotta go to the studio pretty early tomorrow.”

he groaned. “you aren’t coming with? we can fuck in the bathroom, just like in my dream.” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “sounds tempting. i’ll consider it.”

he chuckled, kissing your cheek before wrapping his arm around your middle. you closed your heavy eyes, reveling in the way the soft bed embraced your sore limbs so comfortably. your lover was happy and content in your arms, the moonlight still glittered through the curtains, and everything was so blissful, so tranquil.

alex’s soft breaths against your cheek elicited a sweet hint of a smile from your lips before you slipped into a peaceful, much needed slumber.

———

hope you enjoyed!! im so sleepy i’ll proofread this and make some edits tomorrow

p.s. i like to imagine he starting crafting dangerous animals the next day in the studio

taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t

[hannahssimblr]

She’s on the swings. The sun is setting and tossing long shadows across the ground. It catches her, the lone, moving figure, idly swinging, looking out towards the dunes ahead of her while the breeze rustles the leaves. 

The gate squeaks, and she turns and smiles at me. 

“Hogging the swings?” I say.

“Yeah, obviously. I didn’t want any of the kids to have it, so I’ve been holding fort all day.”

“Good strategy.” I slump into the one next to her, and the bark mulch scrapes under my runners. “I didn’t expect to see you here, to be honest.”

“Nor I you.”

“Well, I was out walking.”

 “And I was swinging,” she smiles, this specific half smile she does whenever she knows she has charmed me. “To be honest, I’m just waiting for the sun to go down.”

“You like the sunset, hm?”

“Yes, but not because of that, exactly. See, Kelly goes to her room and stays there once it gets dark. She doesn’t sleep for ages, but at least I know she’ll be in her room watching TV, and I won’t encounter her.”

I frown. “Something up between you and Kelly?”

She just laughs. An understatement, I presume. “Kelly and I fell out. I don’t think that we’re friends anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but there’s like, three weeks left of summer, so I’m going to have to just hang around the village and suffer until then.”

“Is that really what you’ve been doing? Just walking around all day?”

“Well, no, I’ve been swimming, and running, and drawing, and exploring, and things, but basically, yeah, I’ve just been avoiding her.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t enjoy fighting. I don’t like it when people don’t like me.”

“You think she dislikes you? Surely it’s just been a falling out. She’ll come around.”

She gives me a sidewards glance. “I don’t think Kelly ever really liked me, to be honest. I think we were just friends because that’s how it was.” 

“Ah.”

“You ever have that?”

“Not really.”

“Of course not.”

I curl my hand around one rope of her swing and change the rhythm, rocking her side to side so that her side gently bumps against mine with every sway. “So, do you want to talk about what happened between you?”

She dips her head in a laugh, and her hair brushes over her thighs. “I think it was more about what we didn’t say to each other, if I’m honest. I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last few days, and I think she was just waiting to find something to get mad at me about.”

“She’s vindictive.” I state. 

“Yeah, I suppose. She’s very sensitive and stuff. It upset her that I was late back from your house last week, because she and I were supposed to go swimming together. She thinks that I’m choosing my new friends over her, or something, which isn’t true. It’s not like, you know… like, we’re not friends or anything, yet, are we?” She peers at me around the curtain of her hair. 

“C’mon Evie, you’re my friend.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Don’t worry about Kelly. She’s clearly jealous of you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah right.”

“It’s true!”

“That’s something my mam would say to make me feel better about bullies. Nobody is ever actually jealous.”

“Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Um! Because!”

“Because?” I prompt. “There’s a million reasons why. You know, I’ve seen this so many times at school. If you’re smarter or more popular or get more attention, there are people who aren’t going to like that, you know? Especially girls.”

“Are you an expert on teenage girls?”

“No, but I’m just telling you what I’ve seen.”

“Well, even if that’s true, I’m not smarter or more popular than Kelly, so.”

But she is one hundred times more beautiful. 

I wouldn’t dream of saying that part out loud, but it’s so true that I am stunned she can’t see it. Watching her now, with that slash of neon sunset light across her face, her long, swanlike neck, and pouty, sad little mouth, my body feels a bit weak. I fear the torture of our friendship, that being around her will have me forever on the cusp of trying to kiss her. 

“People like Kelly don’t grow up to be very happy people,” I tell her, as a sea breeze kicks in and throws her jasmine smell under my nose. I release my hold on her swing and back away. “Sad and angry people grow up to have sad and angry lives, and boring jobs and boring hobbies and no friends to hang out with.”

“Could happen to any of us.”

“Not you, Kilbride. Never! And not me either, if I can do anything about it.”

“Yeah, not when you go away to college.” her mouth flattens into a line. “You’ll be happy then.”

“Yeah. I suppose I will. You too, though,” I say, softening. “College is meant to be when everyone finds themselves, or whatever. I think you’ll have the best years of your life there.”

“Here’s hoping.”

 The heat goes from the village with the sun, and the lights flicker on, one by one, along the edge of the strand road.

“It’s kind of depressing that you just walk around on your own all day. Why didn’t you ever text me?”

A shrug. “Dunno.”

“Claire hangs out with us all the time. You can too. If you want.”

“I just don’t want to be annoying, I suppose.”

“You’d never annoy me. Why don’t you come over now, and we can watch a film? With the whole gang, obviously.” I add with haste. “We have loads of snacks and stuff, and I can just drive you home later on.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“That actually sounds really nice.”

“Good, c’mon then.” 

And as we amble through the playground together, discussing the kind of horrible film the guys must have chosen for us, it is the strangest thing, but I catch myself almost reaching for her hand.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[dreamingcloudie]

Since I can't sleep still, I'm just going to comply with my Dottore brain rot even more :')

Imagining being in Dottore's lab being bandaged up after fighting some treasure hoarders and getting hurt, he's scolding you for getting hurt while tending to your wounds but also being gentle with you. As a “Thank You” you give him a quick peck, but he demands more, because you "wasted" so much of his time already.

(I'm sorry if these are out of the asking zone/criteria, I JSUT WNAT SOMEONE TO HEAR ME OUTT </3)

Omg this— Dottore would worry about no one but his Darling. He couldn't care less about somebody else's corpse on the side of the road but would freak out over a paper cut on you LOL. He just loves you a lot more than he's willing to admit. And I just love that he only accepts kisses in payment <3 And no worries, nonnie! I'm open to any Dottore brain rot you would like to share. Feel free to keep em' coming! Again, I couldn't help myself but to write this.

Today's task was supposed to be easy. All you had to do was to gather some materials Dottore had asked of you, piece of cake, right? That was until a bunch of treasure hoarders appeared out of no where and thought it would be a good idea to fight a random, innocent citizen. In this case, that was you.

You've had experience in combat and your skills weren't too shabby. Even so, you were outnumbered and barely made it out of there alive. They hit you hard and have possibly broken a bone or two in you.

You limped all the way back to Dottore's lab and pushed the doors open. Alerting him of your pressence.

"Welcome back, my dear. You took longer that I've expected. Is everything alright—" He stopped talking mid sentence when he noticed your bloody form. There was a huge slash on the side of your waist, red blotches scattered across your body. He could tell you were in a lot of pain judging by the way you were limping.

Without saying another word, he quickly went over to your and took the materials out of your hands and put them onto the nearest table. He wrapped an arm around you cautiously, careful to not touch any of your wounds and guided you to a chair.

"Sit here," he said, before going around his lab to gather a few medical supplies. As you watched him move from one spot to another, you were trying tosee if you could make out what he was feeling. But it was a lot harder with his mask on.

Was he worried? Scared? Nonchalant, even?

It didn't take too long for him to come back with what he needed to treat your wound. He grasped the helm of your shirt and gave it a little tug, letting you know he was going to lift it up.

He lifted it up to where your chest was and took a look at the slash on your waist. Thankful for how quiet the lab was, you were able to hear his breath hitched. He took his glove off and gave your wound a little touch. He didn't stay long, however, when you hissed.

He applied some alcohol onto a clean cloth.

"This is going to hurt a bit, but I will be quick."

Before your mind could process his words, the cloth was already on your skin. You held onto his shoulders for support as the burning sensation was too much to bear.

"I'm almost done. Just keep holding on to me."

A few minutes that felt like hours for you had finally passed and he was done with cleaning your wound after he deemed it as good enough. He put the cloth away and took the bandages and began to wrap them around your waist carefully.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"It's, um, treasure hoarders."

"Those pesky little—" He cut himself off by sighing.

"—why didn't you just, run away?"

You stayed quiet for a while before answering, "I wanted to get the materials you asked for..."

"You idiot, I couldn't care less about them if it means putting your life on the line." He continued, "Next time you're in any sort of danger, just run away as soon as you can, alright? They're just materials, I could always get them later..."

He was now done with covering up your wound.

"But you, dove. There's only one of you and I couldn't risk losing you."

You knew he was a master at concealing his feelings, but you could still hear the worry in his words.

"I'm sorry... I'll be more careful next time."

"You better."

You raised your hand up and took his mask off, smiling at the handsome face before you. You gave him a little peck on his cheek.

"Thank you."

He tsked, "If you're really sorry then... give me another one. You wasted my time, got blood on the floor and had me worried. It's only fair."

You giggled at how he was acting like a kid and gave him another peck. After all, he deserved it, did he not?

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 5 - And Fresh-Fallen Rain

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

It was only a matter of time before Pomni blinked herself awake. 

Wave after wave of pulsing pain, synchronized with the beat of her heart, relentlessly pounded the back of her skull. A landscape of crimson curls, wild weeds, and shimmering stars expanded, contracted, and twisted before her half-lidded eyes. The disorienting sight was more than enough to make her stomach do flips — and fail to stick the landing every single time.

But even so, it was hard to feel anything but content. 

The wind was fierce and frigid, but Pomni didn’t know it. She didn’t feel the bitter cold, even as gale after freezing gale slashed her skin like the crack of a whip. All the pain in the world wouldn’t have phased her, not as long as the wind’s touch highlighted the slightly-wet spots where Ragatha’s lips had so lovingly grazed her face. 

Stalks of overgrown grass wavered as a brisk squall flew across the yard; a palette of fallen leaves, which just so happened to be sleeping in its path, was cast into the sky. Red, yellow, orange, and brown — the cozy colors swished and swirled through the air, then drifted back to their resting spot below the jungle-like lawn. 

It only took a moment for the breeze to return. Coming from the other direction now, it passed through Ragatha’s red yarn hair before pummeling Pomni’s face. All at once, the saccharine aroma of the ragdoll’s locks — strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain — introduced itself.  

And it was heavenly. 

Pomni’s eyelids drooped further, and a dumb, wobbly smile blossomed on her face. As her tiny arms wrapped around Ragatha’s plush, guffawing belly, she didn’t worry about how embarrassed she was to have fainted, or what Ragatha’s little kisses had meant, or why someone like her even deserved to be treated with such affection. Those pesky doubts were for future Pomni to agonize over; for now, they crumbled to pieces with each precious peak of Ragatha’s laughter.

“Oh! There she is!” Ragatha flinched as Pomni’s arms enfolded her. “I was starting to worry I up and killed you…”

“Nope! Still kicking.” Pomni chirped, “But just barely…” 

Slowly, Ragatha’s giggles began to peter out, but their spirit still tickled every word she spoke. “Goodness me — aren’t you in a good mood! Your head didn’t hit the ground too hard, did it?”

Pomni waffled. She decided not to tell Ragatha about the big lump on the back of her head — the redhead would just worry herself sick, after all. “...I’m fine. Just a little bit dizzy.”

“I really am sorry.” Ragatha placed her soft hands atop Pomni’s, idly dragging her digits across the jester’s worn leather gloves. “I should have warned you before I…” she paused. “Well, y’know…”

Pomni could feel the heat rising in Ragatha’s hands. She waited patiently for her to finish, but as the silence dragged on, it became increasingly clear that she’d have to be the one to break it. 

“No, it’s okay! Really! I just, um, wasn’t expecting…that. And if you think about it, it was actually my fault. I wouldn’t have fainted if I had just listened—”

“No, no! It was sweet! I don’t know. I just figured…” Ragatha said, a nervous tilt to her tone, “...since you were having so much fun getting into your character, I ought to return the favor.” Ragatha's hands were twitching now, “And…”

Somewhere nearby, a ladybug crested a wobbling blade of grass, flitted its wings, then buzzed away to who-knows-where. Another brisk gust wandered through the dilapidated yard, sending an armada of dandelion seeds sailing swiftly through the air.

“And…?” Again, Pomni was the one to shatter the silence. 

“Oh, nevermind.” Ragatha forced out a laugh. Pomni swore she could hear the woman’s blush. “I think I’ve just got an overactive imagination.”

Another pause. That made three. 

Pomni’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Unsure if this was even real, she slipped her hand out from beneath Ragatha’s, eager to simply trace the woman’s strong, soft frame…

… but her finger didn’t get very far before arriving at the gaping hole slashed across the ragdoll’s abdomen. 

Guilt flattened Pomni’s heart like a speeding train. Holding Ragatha close, the jester sat up in a snap, examining her friend’s injuries with a level of determination that could only be described as ‘obsessive’. 

Talk about a mood-killer — it was as if Pomni had never even bothered to stitch Ragatha up at all. Stuffing leaked out of the ragdoll here, there, everywhere. Nearly all of Pomni’s makeshift threads, nowhere close to well-crafted, were already failing — if they weren’t coming loose, the strings themselves were coming apart. 

Pomni clenched her teeth. Her brow descended, and her lips trembled fiercely. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry! You don’t have to worry about me.” Tenderly, Ragatha pushed herself against Pomni's little frame, “As long as you’re with me, I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

“I’m not sad.” A stormy look came to Pomni’s face. “I’m angry.”

“...Angry?”

“Stupid #$&%ing tree monster. Stupid #$&%ing Caine!” Pomni bared her teeth, “Stupid #$&%ing circus!”

“H-Hey, now! Take a breath, okay? Let’s not get ourselves worked up—”

“No! I’m pissed!” In a snap, Pomni leapt to her feet, firmly holding Ragatha in her arms. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt anymore,” she said, making a beeline toward the haunted mansion, “Not a single scratch, from now until we escape this horrible circus together — I promise!”

Ragatha’s eyes were sparkling, though Pomni was too focused on climbing the front porch’s creaky staircase to notice. “Pomni, Y-You don’t have to do all that…!”

“Too bad. I want to.”

“O-Oh…” Ragatha’s breath felt warm against Pomni’s chest. “I see…”

Without another word. Pomni summited the porch stairs, where a pair of double-doors patiently awaited her arrival. She eyed the doorbell, but her hands were full — so she opted for three mighty kicks at the doors’ expense instead. “Hello? Anyone home?” 

Pomni and Ragatha waited for an answer. And then waited some more. Pomni’s shrill voice echoed at least a dozen times in the stiff silence. 

“Hellooo!?” Pomni’s ill-fitting boot pounded the door thrice more. “We don’t have all day, you know! Open up!”

“Pomni! It’s been five seconds!” Ragatha chided, “Don’t be rude!”

“Rude? What am I doing — interrupting supper time? They’re NPCs.”

“I know that! But still. It just feels so wrong…”

A relaxed smile found its way to Pomni’s face — at this point, the jester wouldn’t have been surprised if Ragatha were hiding a pair of angel wings underneath that pretty dress of hers. “Let me guess. You’re the type of person who feels guilty about not giving equal attention to all of your stuffed animals, aren’t you?”

“I—” Ragatha sputtered, glancing off. “N-No! I’m thirty years old! What makes you think I own stuffed animals?”

Pomni raised an eyebrow.  

Ragatha had been caught red-handed, and she knew it. It was incredible how quickly her face flushed completely pink. “Okay, first of all, how dare you attack me like this—”

Before Ragatha could even finish her tongue-in-cheek response, both girls simply lost it. Their uncontrolled, side-splitting laughter — one giggling, one cackling like a witch — spun together into a harmonious duet, and for a fleeting moment, both captives felt like they were home. 

“Alright, alright.” Ragatha wiped at her eyes. “Enough joking around. How about I just ring the doorbell for you, Sweetheart?”

“Huh?! No way! You have to stay still or you’re going to rip yourself! Look, I’ll just set you down—”

“On the dirty porch? Are you out of your mind?” Ragatha reached for the ornate button beside the door. 

“Hey! What are you doing?! I just told you—”

“Oops!” Ragatha poked the button, then quickly fell back into Pomni’s arms like a helpless princess. “Sorry, dear. Didn’t hear you!”

Pomni grumbled, and the doorbell replied with its signature chime. Windswept shutters battered cracked windows as Pomni and Ragatha stood there, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Pomni’s patience was in short supply. She stamped her foot, and the old porch whined. “Seriously?”

“Maybe the entrance is around the back? My old apartment building was like that.” Ragatha said. “Ordering anything by mail was just the worst. It’s like — I get that the mail carriers had to stick to a tight schedule, but they would never read the signs. Oh, and trick-or-treat was a nightmare every Halloween—”

Ragatha’s riveting tale was cut short as, at last, the double-doors swung open at the sound of the magic words — trick-or-treat.

Ragatha’s mouth fell open. Pomni wrinkled her brow. Both women studied the other’s outfit in stunned silence — and suddenly, Caine’s choice of costumes didn’t seem quite so arbitrary. 

“Ohhh…” They nodded in sync. “Right…”

Cautiously, Pomni poked her head through the door frame. If the scent of stale tobacco pouncing upon her senses was any indication, the surprises weren’t over yet. 

“It’s…” Pomni breathed, “...an elevator…?”

“Ooh, and an old-fashioned one, too!” Ragatha tapped her fingers together, excitedly peering inside. 

The interior was nothing if not visually striking. Each of its four walls, carved from cherrywood, hosted polished panels gilded with gold. Winding bands of white and black and gold and blue danced a tango across the smoke-stained carpet. An expensive-looking chair sat in the corner; an equally-elegant end table, complete with a flickering lamp, complimentary cigars, and a half-filled ashtray, sat to the left. 

“Gosh, and just look at all these little aesthetic flourishes!” Ragatha gushed. “Folks back then really put effort into making every little thing look beautiful. You know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh. S-Sure…”

“Sometimes I wish that attitude would make a comeback. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just an old soul…” 

Pomni blinked, regarding the elevator’s interior through empty pupils. She would have instinctively eyed the exit had she not already been standing in the middle of it. 

The jester couldn’t recall something as simple as her own name — but, by some cruel twist of fate, everything else about the life she’d had stolen from her remained crystal clear in her head: including her swarming, overcrowded menagerie of obsessive anxieties.

Back home, Pomni’s teeny-tiny cubicle — something she couldn’t believe she actually missed now — was located on one the higher floors of her employer’s drab highrise. Entering the lobby, a lengthy carpet led the eye to a conveniently-placed pair of lifts. Their metal doors, constantly opening and closing as employees funneled in and out, was a sure sign that another busy day of work lay ahead.

Pomni was quite familiar with the contraptions — which was reason enough for the tie-wearing twenty-something, armed with her trusty backpack, to begin each morning with a hard left towards the musty concrete stairwell instead. By the time she’d reach her floor, the young accountant would be out-of-breath, weak in the knees, and far sweatier than any sane person would ever like to be. In her book, though, it was worth the trouble. She would do anything in her power to avoid the sensory torture that was riding in one of those cramped sardine cans. 

Elevators were awful. Just awful. Women wearing far too aggressive perfume; men who had forgotten to wear any deodorant at all. Extroverted co-workers trying to make small talk; creepy strangers trying to hit on her. Idiots with no concept of personal space; morons with no respect for the fire marshall’s occupancy limit clearly posted on the wall in big, bold letters. 

But being stuck inside of a tiny box with eight other people was a dream compared to the experience of riding alone — where her mind could wander, and the simmering fear of some catastrophic malfunction could consume her thoughts. What if the power went out? What if she got stuck? What if she were trapped inside and ran out of oxygen? What if the cables snapped, and the final moments of her life would be her screaming in horror as the car was sent plummeting down the shaft?

Nope. Pomni didn’t like elevators. Not one bit. Sensitive to Ragatha’s feelings, however, the young woman tried her hardest to force a smile onto her face. “Wow. C-Classy…” 

For a moment, Ragatha didn’t even react. “...You’re nervous.” she tilted her head in concern, “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s the matter!” Pomni lied, and rather poorly, at that. “I was just…” she floundered, “...admiring the craftsmanship! Gee, don’t you wish they made stuff like this nowadays?”

“...Yeah. I just said that.”

“Right…! S-So…! Anyway…!”

Pomni closed her eyes, ducking her face behind Ragatha’s shoulders. Oh, come on! What are you waiting for? Just go! It’s just an elevator! You’ve had your whole life to be a coward — now’s the time to be brave. For her! You can do that, can’t you!?

The shaking jester steeled herself. The sole of her oversized boot departed from the sturdy wooden porch, swung forward, flirted with the elevator’s artsy carpet, pressed down… 

…and the entire car shifted with an ear-splitting creak. 

Pomni’s whole body seized up — she couldn’t stumble back onto the porch fast enough. Nope. Nope. Abso-#@%$ing-lutely not.

“Pomni! You are nervous!” Ragatha rubbed at her chest, “Oh, no — Ugh! I’m sorry! Are you afraid of elevators?”

Pomni squirmed in place. Her gut commanded her to keep up her defenses — to deny, deny, deny, because showing the slightest inkling of vulnerability had been punished so severely in the past. Despite all of her strongest instincts, however, the soft look of concern on Ragatha’s face hit her like a magic spell.

“Um,” Pomni’s shoulders slumped, “Maybe a teensy-tiny bit...”

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Ragatha drew closer, “Forget it, then. Why don’t we try looking for another way in?”

“N-No! It’s fine! This way is the fastest!”

“But I want you to be comfortable, too…”

“You’re worried about me?!”

Ragatha twisted her lips. “Is that bad…?”

“Yes!”

“O-Oh…”

“God, Ragatha — can’t you just be selfish for once in your freaking life!?” Pomni’s voice was sharpened to a fine tip. “I mean…look at yourself! You’re falling apart at the seams — literally!”

“Pomni! Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Watch me!” Pomni squished Ragatha against her chest before the ragdoll could even think to protest. Surging with adrenaline, she clenched her jaw, made peace with her god, and barreled forward. 

The ancient elevator quaked beneath her feet; each time it stirred, her body seized, preparing itself for the whole contraption to plummet into the endless abyss below. Pomni quailed at the sound of squeaking metal, cowered at the buzz of hydraulics, and pined after the whistling wind outside the car — a beacon of safety and stable footing. 

She shivered, choking on every haggard breath that just wasn’t enough — but somehow, the slight weight in her arms gave her the courage to open her eyes and face the music. 

“I…” Pomni stood in the center of the elevator. She looked down at a begrudgingly-happy Ragatha, each stammered word framed by bouts of breathless laughter, “...I did it!” 

Ragatha beamed, practically singing. “You did!” 

“Yes, indeed!” A series of polite claps sounded from behind. “Jolly good show, darling!”

Pomni just couldn’t stop smiling. “It was, wasn’t it?” she agreed. Sticking out her chest, the young woman pulled in a deep breath, and then…

…Wait a minute! Pomni spun around on a dime. Who said that!?

A ghostly figure, surrounded by an otherworldly aura, sat with her legs crossed in the elevator’s cushioned chair. Her outfit, equally as old-fashioned as her surroundings, evoked all the stylings of a suffragette. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a spooky shadow over her face. Her ruffled shirt was tucked neatly into a long, floral-print skirt. A silk sash spanned the length of her chest, bearing a progressive slogan spelled out in a simple typeface.  

An eerie smile crawled across the phantom’s ashen face. Slowly, she looked up from the book in her lap, and the lamp’s struggling flame gasped its final breath, “Going up?”

Pomni SHRIEKED. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” the ghost marked her place with a bookmark, closed her tome, and sharply raised her other hand, “Dining room. Fifth floor.”

With a light ‘ding’, the elevator’s sole exit slammed shut, casting the car in total darkness. The elevator rumbled as if caught in an earthquake, rusted gears whirring and whining all the way. 

“Uh…” Ragatha’s face fell. She looked up at Pomni, who was taking things exactly as well as you would expect. 

“WHAT?! HEY! NONONO! WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“There’s the handrail, darling.” the ghost pointed with a wink, “You might want to make use of it sooner rather than later.”

“NONONO! LET ME OUT!” Pomni pounded her foot against the door, “WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT—”

The ghost shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Suddenly, the elevator shot into the air at gravity-defying speeds, thrusting Pomni and Ragatha roughly into the floor — and pinning them there for the remainder of their abrupt ascent. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The haunted lift halted the same way it had started.

Painfully. 

The doors slid open with an innocent chime, and the girls shivered in sync as the ghost’s ethereal high-heels passed straight through them. 

“Right this way, ladies.” the phantom twirled her fingers. A magical aura surrounded Pomni and Ragatha, dragging their aching forms behind the ghost as she stepped gingerly out of the car. 

A cozy dining room awaited beyond the threshold. Autumn-toned streamers stretched across the ceiling. A perimeter of potatoes, turnips, and radishes, strung up on strings and carved with grotesque faces, was proudly displayed on each wall. A large banner pinned to the wall read ‘ALLHALLOWTIDE GREETINGS’, just in case the apple-bobbing stations weren’t sufficiently on-the-nose.

A long, wooden table was situated in the exact center of the room, dominating the space. The ghostly woman sat herself at its head, and, with a flick of her finger, sat her dazed guests across from each other. 

“Well, well, well!” The ghostly specter fanned her face with her weighty novel. “Do my eyes deceive me, or has another troupe of wayward rabble-rousers dared to trespass upon the esteemed estate of—”

“Oh, God!” Pomni, green in the face, scrambled to slap her hands over her mouth. “Oh, holy #$@%—” She swiped the closest open receptacle she could find — a gorgeous Edwardian vase — and held her mouth against the opening. Her whole frame crumpled forward as her body quite ungracefully emptied itself out.

“P-Pomni!” Ragatha’s fingers grazed the side of her face. “Oh my goodness — are you alright?!”

The jester groaned. Plopping the vase back onto the table, she weakly nodded, trembling hands hugging her ailing stomach. “I’ll be fine. J-Just…give me a second…” she faceplanted into the large heap of candy corn piled on her plate. “This happens more often than you’d think…”

Ragatha pouted, watching Pomni’s face sink deeper into candy corn mountain. Individual pieces slid off of the young woman’s plate and scattered across the table. “Remember your breathing, okay, Sweetheart?”

Pomni flashed a flaccid thumbs-up.

“My word! What is the meaning of this?!” The ghostly apparition clenched her fists, lips curled back in disgust. “Perhaps if your detestable generation spent less time listening to that boorish ‘jazz’ music — and I’m being generous calling it music at all — you’d have room in those cramped skulls  to remember proper etiquette!”

In a flash, she tore open her book —  the cover read, ‘THE LADY’S BOOK OF COMMON ETIQUETTE & ASSORTED DEMONIC SPELLS — 1860 EDITION’ in embossed, glossy lettering.

The ghost loudly cleared her throat. She pointed to the text with a manicured fingernail,  “Immediately upon entering the parlor, find your hostess, and speak to her first. It is very rude to stop to chat with other guests before greeting the lady of the house.”

Ragatha blushed, shrinking in her seat like a scolded child. “Ma’am...”

“Hmph. As appalling as your conduct is, I suppose you aren’t completely hopeless. It’s worlds better, at least, than that infantile rabbitoid or that foul-mouthed modern-art abomination.” The haughty ghost shook her head. “But I digress — what business do you mortal wretches have in the decrepit domain of I, the great Margarethe MacGuffin?”

A long, drawn-out pause ensued — longer than usual. “Um…” Ragatha rapped on her chin, “…Who?”

“Who? What do you mean ‘who’?”

“Come to think of it, I’ve completely forgotten what we’re even supposed to be doing here. Pomni…?”

Groggily, Pomni lifted her head; more than a few candy corns came along, sticking stubbornly to her cheeks, chin, and forehead. “Brooch,” she sighed. A single morsel tumbled off her face, “We’re looking for the—”  

“Brooch, you say?!” Margarethe flinched at the word like a trained dog hearing its name. Her sour mood shifted in an instant. “You couldn’t possibly mean…” she drew closer, “...that brooch, could you? The legendary MacGuffin family heirloom? The priceless treasure forged in the highlands beyond Hadrian’s Wall, passed down from generation to generation—”

“Uh-huh! Sounds about right!” Pomni abruptly pushed her chair out, sending an avalanche of candy treats pittering and pattering across the hardwood floor. She wasted no time racing to Ragatha’s side — and gently, so gently, hooking her arm around the dolly’s. “So where do we go? What do we do? How do we leave!?” 

“I…” Margarethe balked. “Sit back down this instant, young lady!”

“Uh, hello?! Do you not see that my friend is practically in pieces, here? We don’t need your stupid theatrics — none of this is even real, anyway — just spit it out so we can go back to the tent and get her fixed!”

Margarethe’s posture was as sharp as a tack. “For shame! Never in my sixty-seven years have I witnessed such uncharismatic, uncouth, unbecoming behavior from a young bachelorette. Simply appalling —  you’ll never find a husband with that attitude.”

“Aw, really? You mean it?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“HAHAHA!” Ragatha slapped the table, “G-Golly, Ms. MacGuffin! This glassware is just to die for! Wherever did you procure such a stunning collection?”

Margarethe hesitated — but then curtsied in appreciation. “Well! I’m glad you noticed. They’re just wonderful, aren’t they?” she proudly mused, “The help says they’re made of this newfangled, petroleum-based material that’s cheaper than glass and impervious to breakage. Bakelite, I believe it’s called — the material of a thousand uses!”

Pomni flicked the nearest goblet. She whispered in Ragatha’s ear: “I think they’re plastic.”

“Indeed — we are truly blessed to be reaping the plentiful fruits of the industrial age. Now, where was I…?” Margarethe tapped her bottom lip, “Ah, yes!”

Margarethe launched herself in the air with a flamboyant pirouette. “To make a long story short, the MacGuffin clan is, sadly, no more — our treasured brooch is the only artifact that remains of our storied legacy. My life is long behind me, but alas, as the matriarch of my kin, I cannot pass on into the next life until I find a soul brave enough to carry on the great MacGuffin legacy. Someone like…you two!”

Pomni and Ragatha looked at each other. “Us? You’re sure?”

“Certainly! But a MacGuffin knows no weakness.” Margarethe continued, “In order to secure my brooch, and carry on my proud family name, you must venture through my audacious abode…and confront your greatest fear!”

“Greatest fear…?” Pomni stammered. 

Margarethe flexed. “Then, and only then, can you consider yourself a true MacGuffin!”

“G-G-Greatest…” Pomni repeated, almost choking on her words, “...f-fear…?” 

“Why, of course, darling! You didn’t expect this to be a walk in the park, did you? It wouldn’t be much of an adventure without a little bit of challenge!”

Pomni stared straight ahead — but her pin-sized pupils didn’t perceive a single thing. 

Greatest fear.

The room shrank. 

Greatest fear. Greatest fear? What in the world was that supposed to mean!? Pomni didn’t have a greatest fear — as far as she knew, the obsessive thoughts that constantly terrorized her mind did so with total parity. How was she supposed to know which one had cost her the most sleep over the years?

Car crashes, plane wrecks, train derailments, high-speed transportation in general, being bitten by a wild animal and dying of rabies, stepping on a rusty nail and dying of tetanus, contracting some other horrible disease after forgetting to wash her hands and dying from that, being stalked by weird men, being assaulted by weird men, being kidnapped and murdered by weird men, weird men in general, disappointing her friends, disappointing her parents, disappointing her boss, people in general, her boss in general, being late to work, performing poorly at work, being fired from work…

Pomni’s eyes bulged. 

Work — oh, no. Work. WORK. 

Pomni’s mind had already overloaded itself merely accepting the notion that she was trapped forever in this weird, obscure computer game — so overloaded, in fact, that the horrific question of how the world was proceeding without her hadn’t even occurred to her.

Until now. 

How long had she been gone? One week? Two? Even more? Her blood ran cold at the realization — even if she were to escape the circus this very instant, there was no way she hadn’t already been fired, no way her cubicle wasn’t already cleaned out to make way for the next poor sap to apply to that god-forsaken office. 

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. That couldn’t happen. What was she going to do? Beg for her old job back? Apply for a new one? How the hell was she supposed to do that when her degree sucked, her resume could fit on a sticky note, and all her single reference could forward a potential employer was years and years of middling performance reviews?

Even if her boss was merciful, her rat bastard of a landlord wouldn’t lend her a single shred of sympathy. Not in a million years. The clock was ticking for Pomni to locate an exit before next month’s rent was due. Should she fail, and she certainly would, she’d return home to find someone else living in her apartment. Her space. The only place in the whole entire world where she felt safe. 

Her belongings would be auctioned off at best, and thrown away at worst. 

And…oh, God. She was a missing person. There were probably posters all over town. Posters plastered with her face and name, front-and center. Stapled to telephone poles, printed in the paper, pinned to those little bulletin boards at the supermarket. Everywhere. Millions of eyes, looking at her face. Reading her name.  

Pomni could already feel them burrowing into her back. Judging her. Pitying her. Laughing at her. The best thing they could do was look away in apathy. 

Her friends and family were probably searching high and low  — but their resolve would dull as the months paged over into years. Embers of hope, pining for her return, would still burn in their hearts until the very end, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run. In the back of their minds, they would know she wasn’t coming home.

The few friends she had, unwilling to carry the burden of their grief, would almost certainly make an effort to forget her. Just to ease the pain. Her voice would be forgotten as old videos and voicemails were deleted. Her face would be next. And then, one by one, each of her friends would speak her name for the final time. 

Pomni whimpered, burying her face in the soft fabric of Ragatha’s arm. Her chest was tight, pressing harder, harder, harder against a hollow core. Each heaving breath sent shockwaves of pain throughout her shrinking, shivering, pitiful body. 

Time. She was running out. Running out of time. She had to find a way out. A way out. A way to get home. Home. Home. Home. Time. Running out. Get out. She had to get out. Get out get out get out GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT RIGHT NOW BEFORE EVERYTHING SHE’S WORKED FOR CRUMBLES TO DUST AND SHE’S DEAD AND FORGOTTEN AND AND AND AND AND AND—

Pomni choked back a scream as a dreadfully-familiar, searing pain stabbed the tips of her fingers. Blackened flesh creeped like cancer toward her palm, each heinous step piercing her skin like a thousand poison needles. 

“R-Ragatha!” Pomni gasped. Abstraction shackled her wrists as the tips of her fingers sank into the ragdoll’s downy flesh. One, three, five, ten twitching eyes sprouted beneath her gloves. “No…no, no, no! I’m going to—!” She couldn’t bear to say it. “I…I need to—”

Ragatha turned. “P-Pomni? What are you—”

“I’m sorry!” Pomni strangled the ragdoll’s wounded arm, squeezing the bulky limb hard enough to force clumps of cotton out of her own failed stitchwork. 

Her eyes squeezed shut. 

Her breathing slowed. 

Shaky breath in, shakier breath out. 

In and out. 

In, and…

The grandfather clock announced the hour with a half-dozen chimes. Pomni cracked open a single eye. Like magic, her mind was calm and clear.

Her weary gaze swept over Ragatha’s shredded arms, over her shoulder, her neck, her furrowed brow, her gnashing teeth, her wincing eyes.

“P-P-Pomni! I said let go!” Ragatha’s complaints finally fell on Pomni’s ears, “That hurts!”

Flinching, Pomni released the doll’s arm, “Ah! I’m sorry! I-I—”

“What’s gotten into you?! Is everything okay!?”

“Y-Yes! Everything’s just fine! I just, uh…” Pomni slumped over, still gasping for air. “Um…” she shrank beneath the shadow of Ragatha’s stern gaze, “...just needed a hug?”

Ragatha’s stony face didn’t crack. “You’re hiding something.”

“What?! No, I’m not!” 

“Don’t lie to me! What’s going on?! It looked like you were just about to—”

Margarethe hissed. “Alright, alright! That’s quite enough chatter!” She clonked Pomni’s head with her hefty book. “In case you forgot, I was in the middle of explaining—”

“HEY!” Pomni barked like a dog, rubbing the back of her head. “Who the #@$% do you think you are, you ancient &!$#% !?”

“Heel.” Margarethe’s razor teeth flashed a ravenous smile, “...If you know what’s good for you.”

Pomni growled — but wisely kept her big mouth shut. It helped that a small part of her was thankful for the excuse to drop the subject with Ragatha. 

Margarethe chuckled. Referring to her book once more, she flipped to a specific page and began chanting a hex under her breath. Before either Pomni or Ragatha could ask what was happening, a pair of blindingly-bright orbs had already emerged from both of their chests. The magical objects drifted toward MacGuffin’s outstretched hand. 

“Now. Let’s begin with the darling coquette. What are her nightmares made of?” Mararethe peered down at the two white spheres orbiting each other in her open palm. Studying one for a moment, she cocked her head with a sneer. “Hmph. Typical.”

Ragatha slouched, looking sullen. 

“Centipedes. It’s centipedes, right?” Pomni leaned on Ragatha’s chair. She had only just walked herself back from the verge of tears, but she had made a promise to protect Ragatha, and she intended to keep it. “Don’t worry — you’ve got me by your side, remember?” She spoke through a confident facade, “I-I’ll squash ‘em for you!” 

Ragatha covered her mouth like she was about to vomit. “Ugh, Please—” she shook her head, “D-Don’t make me think about their guts...” 

Margarethe flicked Ragatha’s orb back into the ragdoll’s chest, leaving only Pomni’s circling her palm. She cleared her throat. “As for the untrained whelp…” she was already laughing as she lifted her long-fingered hand to her face — but the moment she gazed into the orb, her smug affect faltered. 

The phantom’s cold, soulless eyes ping-ponged between Pomni and Ragatha. “Well.” Grinning, she flicked Pomni’s orb away, “Isn’t that sweet? I wouldn’t have taken you for the type, darling.”

Pomni jerked her head. “Huh? What type? What do you mean sweet?!”

Mararethe’s face simply radiated superiority. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t you?” She mocked, fanning herself. “Oh, shame on me! I haven’t been this worked up since the summer of nineteen-aught-five. This is going to be fun…”

Pomni’s knees locked together as the ghost faded away. “Wait! Where are you going?! What’s my fear?! What—”

“Best of luck!” The candles flickered to the rhythm of Margarethe’s cackling laugh. “You’ll need it…!”

With minimal fanfare, the door to the next room swung open all by itself, creaking horribly on its rusted hinges. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

Margarethe MacGuffin’s maniacal mansion was truly massive, and, within the last few hours, Pomni and Ragatha had been treated to a terrible tour of every last nightmarish nook and creepy cranny. Just as Caine had advertised, an assortment of ‘tricky traps’, ‘perplexing puzzles’ and ‘supernatural sentries’ had been set up for them to navigate, ranging in difficulty from ‘mind-numbingly easy’, to ‘psychologically traumatizing.’ 

Surprisingly, Pomni’s accounting skills had come in handy in the manor’s ‘money-counting room’. The horrifying puzzle, involving the petty minutiae of tax codes and estate settlements, was easy pickings for the seasoned number cruncher. Still, no one was perfect, and Pomni’s sole mistake — in which she’d forgotten the purpose of box 12D on form 5E-344-B  —  left her at the mercy of a swarm of greenbacks-turned-paper-cranes. 

In the music room, Ragatha would have taken the opportunity to show off her cello skills, but Pomni, concerned that Ragatha would worsen her injuries in the process, had flatly refused. A small back-and-forth had ensued — but in the end, both parties agreed to disagree once the instruments, magically stirred to life, started to viciously attack. Poor Pomni had never sprinted so quickly in her life. 

The place where Ragatha’s expertise did come in handy, however, was the stables. A pack of raging horse skeletons ran rampant, threatening to trample anyone foolish enough to stand in their way. Ragatha’s prior experience with equines, however, gave her all the tricks she needed to quickly soothe the wild herd. In retrospect, the room’s main obstacle wasn’t even calming the horses — it was reassuring a shivering Pomni after the jester had learned first-hand what a horse’s skull looked like. It wasn’t pretty.

In all of that time, not once had either of their so-called ‘greatest fears’ reared their ugly heads — or even so much as teased them. Every single task, no matter how asinine, was turned terrifying by the prospect of transforming into an unimaginable nightmare at any point in time.

The sheer anticipation was a torture all of its own — but the girls’ latest assignment, apparently designed to drive them straight to the precipice of insanity, was a close second place.

“Ohoho, don’t fret! It’s quite simple!” Margarethe had announced shortly after Pomni and Ragatha had arrived at the spacious ballroom. The phantom hadn’t even tried to hold back her laughter — she truly was having the time of her life. “The door to the next room is just a hop, skip and a jump away. All you have to do, honored guests, is locate the key.”

In a snap, Margarethe was gone, and Pomni and Ragatha had looked at each other with dread in their eyes. Nothing in MacGuffin Mansion was ever that simple. 

Every part of the ballroom was sculpted with painstaking precision. The moon peered in through a series of extravagant French windows; long, velvet drapes, slightly darker in color than Ragatha’s licorice locks, spanned the length of each one. The checkered marble that spanned the floor hosted a spattering of perfectly-set tables; a crystal glass and a set of unsoiled silverware framed each empty plate. 

A mountain of keys — brass, silver, and gold — sat upon each plate, sparkling in the moonlight. The drinking glasses beside them were similarly filled to the brim…with keys. Keys, keys, keys. Keys were floating in the flower vases, floating in the wine bottles, floating in the air.

Finding a key would be a cinch — finding the key, however, was a task tedious enough to make Sisyphus himself blush. 

And so, there Pomni was, kneeling in front of the locked door, sunken eyes looking like they hadn’t had a wink of sleep in years. The young woman glanced down with a harsh sigh — the marble floor wasn’t exactly the softest surface, and her knees were starting to hurt. A lot. 

Head drooping low, she half-heartedly held out her hand. “Next…”

Ragatha, slumped against the peeling floral wallpaper, perfectly matched Pomni’s energy. Without even bothering to look, she stuck her hand into one of the myriad piles of untested keys that surrounded the pair. A moment later, she plopped a plain-looking one into Pomni’s palm.

The jester ran her finger across the dented brass surface of what must have been the thousandth key to pass through her hands in under an hour. Her eye twitched. 

This was the one. Their ticket out of this god damned ballroom. It had to be. She had no rhyme or reason to explain why — she just knew.  

With a curt nod, Pomni crammed the key’s metal teeth into the lock and turned her hand clockwise. She leaned forward just a touch, listening desperately for a ‘click’ — but of course, just like the nine-hundred and ninety-nine attempts that came before, the stubborn door simply refused to accept her offering. 

So Pomni stared. And smiled. 

Slowly and silently, she stood, squirming grin blooming into a wide, razor-toothed smile. She turned to face the nearest pile of keys, filled her chest with a patient, hearty breath…

…and drove her foot into the metallic mound with all the force her skinny little legs could muster. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha shouted. Hundreds of keys clinked and clanked as they skated across the marble floor. “Really?!”

“This is it, isn’t it?! My greatest fear?!” Pomni shouted, “Isn’t it!?”

“Pomni!”

“Trapped with no way out, taunted by an exit just out of reach, forced to perform pointess, tedious tasks until I go insane?!” 

With every word that Pomni spoke, Ragatha’s furrowed brow disappeared to make room for a look of grave concern. “Hey! Are you listening to me?!”

“The same thing, over and over, never changing…” Clutching her head, Pomni let out a laugh, strained and dry, “As if I’m not already living that nightmare every single day!?”

“Pomni, stop it! You’re scaring me!” Ragatha finally raised her voice. Acting on instinct, she reached out to touch Pomni’s arm — but the doll’s fragile skin punished her with another gut-wrenching tear. Pain warped the doll’s face as she crumpled forward.

That brought Pomni’s breakdown to a screeching halt. “Ragatha!” snapping herself out of it, the jester immediately scrambled to Ragatha’s side, eyes pleading forgiveness. “I-I’m sorry! I was just… I didn’t mean to—” she clenched her fists, grunting in frustration, “Are you okay!?”

“Are you?!” Ragatha snatched Pomni’s shoulders. Her face was brutally stern. “You are freaking. Me. Out! Tell me what’s going on! Right now!”

Pomni swallowed. She tried to answer — she really, truly tried, yet no words came to her blanking mind.

Ragatha frowned. “Y-You’re doing it. You’re acting just like the others. Just like him.” 

“H-Him…?” 

“Tell me the truth. Back in the dining room, when you were squeezing my arm, did you...” Ragatha’s voice wavered, “Were you…?”

Pomni’s pupils were the size of pins. Buried memories — of her bedroom, of the forest, of the mansion’s dining room — swarmed like locusts through her mind. She could practically feel the blood freezing over in her veins again, feel the despair grabbing hold, feel her whole body rebelling against her, transforming against her will into a mindless, violent beast. 

“...abstracting?” Pomni tore away, arms coiled tightly around herself. Her strong voice was stuffy and rigid, “I-Is that what you’re too scared to say?”

Ragatha’s eyes softened in an instant. “Oh, no. No, no, no! I didn’t mean to—” she winced, holding her arms out as far as they would go. She was this close to tearing open another wound. “Just…come here.”

“Wh…What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said, “Come on. Let me hold you...”

Pomni looked the other way, still hugging herself. She tried her best to look disgusted, to pretend to be angry, to act indifferent. “P-Put your arms down. You’ll hurt yourself…!”

“I don’t care.” Ragatha’s wavering smile held true, bending just slightly under the weight of her pain. “It hurts so much more to watch you cry, Pomni.”

“I’m not crying!” Pomni’s voice cracked, widening gaze sweeping across Ragatha’s arms. Her trembling arms weren’t helping her case. “I’m just…”

“...Just what, Sunshine?”

Sunshine. Pomni’s eyes were wet. She blinked away the unwanted sensation, shaking her head all the while — but it was no use. Ragatha really was the nicest person she’d ever met. “...R-Ragatha?” 

“Yes…?”

“Why do you keep calling me that…?”

“Calling you what?”

“Sunshine…” Pomni’s lip quivered. She tried with all of her might to quell the storm, but there was little she could do now. A pair of shimmering streams traced the length of her face, and at long last, she cracked, collapsing into Ragatha’s open embrace. 

“Oh, dear…” Ragatha wrapped Pomni up as tight as she could, squeezing the little jester like she would never, ever let go. Even she was trembling now. “Do you like that name?” 

Pomni nodded. 

She felt a lot of feelings. But most of all, she felt loved. So very, very loved. 

🎪  🎪  🎪 

The ballroom had nary a clock to announce the hour, and the eternal night gleaming through the windows wasn’t much help in telling the time, either. Pomni had no idea how long she’d been venting — just talking, talking, talking through the tears, explaining everything that had happened over the past few days. 

“...and it’s happened three times now.” Pomni spoke softly, at last lifting her head from Ragatha’s chest. However much time had passed, it was enough for her eyes, shocked by the sudden influx of light, to immediately recoil.

She rubbed her eyes, easing them back into the light. “...it just happens. Like a nightmare. My mind starts racing — thinking the same obsessive thoughts, over and over, until the thoughts take control. And I…” Pomni winced, shaking her head. “...w-won’t say anything else.”

Ragatha hummed. She listened quietly, finger tracing winding lines around Pomni’s back. 

“...But every time, I’ve managed to stop it.” Pomni said. She cringed a little at her own words. “Well, I guess that’s obvious...”

“Obvious or not…” Ragatha’s voice was calm and clear, “I’m glad.”

“Glad…?”

“Glad you’re still here.”

“O-Oh!” Pomni perked right up. Almost hypnotized, she stared into those beautiful, mismatched eyes. “Um, th-thanks. Me too...” 

Ragatha giggled. “Sorry to interrupt.” she said adoringly, lightly stroking Pomni’s backside. “You were saying?”

Pomni felt light, absentmindedly curling a lock of red yarn hair around her finger. Never before had she felt so heard, felt what it was like to have someone hanging onto her every word. It felt good.  

“I don't know, Ragatha. When I start to abstract, it’s not easy to bring myself back from the brink, but…” she breathed, “...it’s kind of like what you were saying before.”

“Oh?”

“I try to think of a silver lining. Something that makes me feel safe. Something…”

Ragatha’s thumb shooed away the final, thin teardrop drying on Pomni’s cheek. The ragdoll’s hand felt just like a cloud — softer than anything the jester had ever felt before. “Something…” Ragatha mused, finishing the jester’s thought, “...that makes life worth living?” 

“Yeah…” Pomni welcomed a cautious smile, “Something like that.”  

“Ah-ha!”

Pomni flinched. “H-Huh?!” 

“There she is!” Ragatha snatched the jester’s cheesing cheek and gave it a little wiggle. “There’s my funny girl!” 

Pomni tried her hardest to squirm out of Ragatha’s embrace — but the redhead had her decisively pinned. “Ow! S-Stop it!” she protested — but her sunny laughter only encouraged further torment, “That hurts, you jerk!” 

At last, Ragatha relented. “Sorry, Sunshine. Couldn’t resist.”

Pomni’s first instinct was to do the same thing back — to even the score, so Ragatha could see how it felt — but the woman’s words left her melting, all the way down to her soul.

Sunshine. 

She was putty in the ragdoll’s hands. What in the world was happening? What was this fluttery feeling? Why did her face feel hot enough to burn her fingerprints clean off?

“R-Right! In any case!” Pomni pushed herself off, lest she faint a second time. She could hardly believe how quickly her heart was thumping .“Th-thanks for listening and everything, but…” she glanced around in a panic, “...We should probably get back to it, huh?” 

Ragatha didn’t react right away. “...You’re sure?” She surveyed the endless piles of keys that surrounded them — many of which were now scattered about the floor thanks to Pomni’s most recent tantrum. 

“Of course I’m sure! Wh-Why wouldn’t I be?

“Well, it’s awfully sudden. I don’t mind talking a bit more if you need to! Really — I’d watch paint dry as long as you were next to me. Um! Not to say that listening to you is boring…!”

“It’s fine!” Pomni giggled. “Honest.”

“You’re feeling better?”

Pomni nodded.

“You’re sure?” Ragatha squinted. 

“Yes! I’m sure! We can’t keep stopping like this, Ragatha. We’ve got to get you back to Caine, remember?” 

“I…suppose we can get moving again, if that’s what you want.” Ragatha sighed. She glanced sadly at her freshly-vacant arms. “Just do me a favor, won’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get stuck, try to keep your lid on — for me?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry about that…” Pomni turned, scratching her head. The very moment she caught a glimpse of the piled-up keys, however, her face scrunched up. “This just — this sucks! How did the other members figure this out?!”

“Pomni.” Ragatha groaned. “Breathe.”

“Right. My bad…”

Despite herself, Ragatha still managed to look amused. “Think of it this way, Sweetheart. If the rest of those goofballs can figure this out, then so can we. We just need to put our heads together — think outside of the box.” 

“Outside of the box…” Pomni stepped across the checkered floor, scratching her chin. “Like…maybe what we’re looking for isn’t a literal key?” 

She scanned the ballroom through her pouting gaze. A series of large chandeliers, far grander than the tacky setpiece in her own bedroom, supervised the spacious room from above. On the northern wall was a small stage, complete with chairs, instruments, and music stands for performing musicians. A piano, paired with a small chest, sat at the far end. 

The jester’s mood soured, and not just because of her recent run-in with haunted musical instruments. Keys, keys, keys — what did any of this stuff have to do with keys!? Ragatha desperately needed help, but here she was, stuck in the world’s most contrived escape room. Ugh! Did people in the real world really do this kind of thing for fun? This stupid puzzle—

Suddenly, Pomni perked up. She eyed the piano. 

Piano. Keys. 

Piano! Keys! Of course!

“Ragatha!” Pomni raced to where the other woman was sitting, frantically waving her arms in the air. “Hey, hey!”

“Hm? Did you figure something out?” 

Pomni nodded, smiling broadly. She scooped the ragdoll into her arms, hopped atop the stage, and set her down in one of the chairs arranged neatly across it. All told, she only knocked over three music stands, two metronomes, and one priceless clarinet in the process. 

Pomni turned Ragatha’s chair so that it faced the piano. “Watch this!” she chirped, dashing across the stage. Her fingers pressed down on the piano’s lowest white note, and then the lowest black; the hammered strings within the instrument sang a long, colorful scale as Pomni dragged her digits across all eighty-eight keys. 

Hands clasped in hope, she spun around to check the door — but her face fell when, despite her genius plan, the door remained firmly in place. 

“What? But—” Pomni’s fingers pecked a low Do, a high Re, and the middlemost Mi. “They’re keys! Pianos have keys!” She laid her hands flat on the ivory, and the piano unleashed a dissonant, un-musical scream. “Are you kidding me? How is that not the solution?!”

“No, you’re right!” Ragatha clapped her hands together, “Good thinking, Pomni! You’re definitely onto something!” 

“I…am?” Pomni blushed, “But I already pressed every single key — every one! And that stupid plank of wood still won’t open!”

“Maybe it’s not about pressing one specific key.” Ragatha scratched her chin, “Maybe it’s a special combination. Notes can have letter names —  A, B, C, et cetera — so perhaps they want us to spell a certain word?”

“Ooh! A keyword! That’s good!” Pomni snapped her fingers. She didn’t hesitate to start sniffing out clues for such a solution — and it didn’t take long for the old chest beside the piano to catch her eye. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the lock — but, thankfully, it was only for show. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pomni opened the lid. The antique chest was filled to the brim with a series of long, frayed, dust-coated cardboard boxes. 

Curiosity piqued, Pomni opened one and cautiously unfurled the bulky scroll stored inside. A series of small, perfectly-cut holes stretched across the yellowed paper. Some existed in isolation, while others were grouped together into long lines — as if a leaf-munching insect had eaten its way through the fragile material.

Pomni’s tonge prodded the inside of her cheek. “Ragatha? You said you played the…” her gaze flicked aside, “...violin, right?”

“Violoncello.” Ragatha deadpanned. “Why?”

“Well, I was just wondering — since you’re a musician, do you have any clue what these weird rolls of paper are for? They seem related to the piano somehow, but…”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Ragatha gasped, clasping her hands together. “Those funky bundles of paper are called piano rolls!”

The redhead had responded to Pomni’s question in plain English, but the baffled look on the jester’s face suggested otherwise.  

Ragatha clarified. “Back in the day, these were used to play piano tunes without the need for a human performer. Each one plays a different song when loaded into a player piano.”

“Player piano…?”

“Oh, right. Sorry! That’s a special type of piano that plays itself. I’m not quite sure how it works either. But back to the topic at hand — see those little holes cut into the paper? Each one represents one music note. As the roll slowly unfurls, a sensor reads them and tells the machine which keys to strike.”

“Ohh…” Pomni ran her fingers across the parade of perforations that spanned the scroll. Slowly, she nodded. “...So it’s like a music box?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Ragatha beamed. The look on her face as she watched the concept click in Pomni’s head was a painting of pure joy; was it any wonder that she had worked as a teacher prior to her captivity? 

Pomni sighed. She planted an elbow on the old chest and cradled her cheek against her palm. “Your students must have loved you...” 

“Well, I did receive my fair share of apples.” Ragatha shrugged. “Never had to pack a lunch.”

“Wait, seriously…? That’s a real thing?”

“No. Not really.”

A silly smile teased its way onto Pomni’s lips. Heart stumbling, she turned away, fingers unconsciously fiddling with the old chest’s loosened lock. “S-So, um, is there anything else you can tell me…?” 

“Nah — telling is overrated. In my classroom, I always liked to take a hands-on approach.” Ragatha said. She admired the antique instrument seated on the far end of the stage. “There’s a player piano right there. Why don’t you give it a whirl? It’s been a while since I’ve listened to music.”

“S-Sure thing! I’ll find a good one!” Pomni said, eager to please. Just about tearing the lid off of the antique chest, she rifled through its tightly-packed contents with purpose, scrutinizing the faded titles printed on each box. She didn’t recognize a single song, much less any of their long-dead composers, so it was anyone's guess as to what the music would actually sound like. She may as well have just swiped a roll at random — and, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what she did. 

Pomni set the bulky scroll inside the automatic piano after a bit of clumsy fumbling — and more than a little help from Ragatha. With the flip of a switch, the paper started spinning, and the premier notes of a lofty, leisurely tune stirred to life beneath the ballroom’s vaulted ceiling. 

Pomni’s fingers drew circles on the mechanical piano’s smooth, wood grain exterior. For a moment, she forgot where she was, utterly fascinated by the simple elegance of the century-old contraption. 

It was funny. The long-forgotten piece it played, humbly subtitled ‘a ragtime two-step’, had set her up to expect something more peppy and up-tempo. As the piano roll steadily unfurled, however, the melodic constellations impressed upon the paper sang a far different tune. 

It was the type of jaunty music one would expect to accompany a silent film, just…polished. Refined. All of the musical tropes of the era were present — the driving bassline, the active, syncopated melody — but the piece’s dignified pace and finely-crafted harmonies would have sounded out of place in a rowdy, turn-of-the-century saloon. 

Here in the ballroom, though, it was right at home — at least, that’s what the haunted furniture seemed to think. 

Looking impressed, Pomni tapped her foot, wholly oblivious to the perplexing scene unfolding behind her. “Not bad...” She grinned, turning to face Ragatha, “To tell you the truth, I actually kind of ohmygodwhat’sgoingon—”

Pomni stumbled backwards, then forwards, then backwards again into Ragatha’s chair. The ballroom’s inanimate denizens — the one-hundred-odd tables and chairs scattered across its marble floor —  moved all on their own, dancing in time with the mellow melody. A backing band of squeaking wood and clinking keys added a percussive flair to the player piano’s charming, just-slightly-detuned sound. 

Ragatha, for her part, was busy cracking up at Pomni’s complete and utter bewilderment. With a quick breath, she managed to compose herself. “Well, when in Rome…” The ghost of a giggle still lingered in her tone as she offered up her hand, “Shall we?”

Pomni let out a mousy squeak. “Huh?” She flinched, head feeling light, dots flitting across her vision, “But—”

“Come on. Don’t make me beg.” Ragatha batted her eyes, “It’s unladylike.”

Pomni blushed. Without a word, she swallowed, shuddering like a frightened animal as she reached for Ragatha’s hand.

Her fingers curled snugly around the ragdoll’s, plush and doughy. Both women’s palms — one big, one small — fit together perfectly.

Pomni slid her other arm behind Ragatha’s back, powerless to stop the nervous little whimpers sneaking out of her as she lifted up the lightweight woman. For a moment, their faces were close enough to feel each other’s warmth — and it took every ounce of restraint Pomni had to resist asking: ‘Can I please kiss you?’.

With a brief, peppy fanfare, the music transitioned to a new section; the enchanted furniture, as if controlled by a single mind, adapted its routine in perfect sync. 

“I, um…” Pomni’s knees trembled. This stupid furniture was making her look bad. “I don’t really know how to dance…” She winced at the thought, and then at the sight of Ragatha’s grave injuries, “And even if I did, how are we supposed to—”

“Shh.” Ragatha’s thumb glided across the back of Pomni’s hand. “Just…hold me.”

Pomni exhaled. 

Holding her dolly close, the jester closed her eyes, synchronizing her trembling breaths with every other downbeat. Her foot matched the two-step’s gentle pulse, and before she knew it, her whole body was swaying to the rhythm.

Ragatha nestled her head against Pomni’s chest; a blissful sigh escaped her shuddering smile. The tension in her body dissipated note-by-note, phrase-by-phrase, as her darling rocked her back and forth, here and there, to and fro. 

Back and forth they went. Pomni held her plain little ragdolly as tight as she could, finger tracing zig-zags across the curves of her fleece-soft figure. She adored the sound of her peaceful breathing, the way her hands cradled each other as she lay in her arms, all of her happy little fidgets as her body responded to the music. 

Here and there they swayed. Pomni’s desperate eyes wandered to Ragatha’s lips, plush and glossy. Her heart was glowing, but just beyond, a profound emptiness, like nothing she had ever felt before, opened up within her. It begged to be filled, and pained her to resist.

Swing, swing. To and fro. Ragatha was weightless in her arms. The whole wide world, and everything in it, was wonderful. Just wonderful. 

“Ragatha…?”

“Hm.” It took Ragatha a moment to respond. She jostled herself as if she’d just been woken from a deep, restful slumber. “What is it, Sunshine?” She said, keeping her eyes closed. 

Pomni swallowed a shuddering breath. “Do you remember the day before yesterday? When we were trying to film the new intro?”

“That was quite a day.” Ragatha cracked a smile. She nestled herself closer, basking in the rhythm of each gentle sway.  “I didn’t know you could scream so loud. Zooble, either.”

“Yeah…” Pomni tittered. “When you were showing me the way to my room, I remember feeling so exhausted, so frustrated. I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me. What I did wrong to end up trapped here. I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But…”

“But…?”

“But you were still kind to me.”

Ragatha giggled. “Oh, come on. Don’t give me too much credit. You might hate to hear this, but you’re awfully cute when you get all worked up. If I’m being honest, the hardest part was not eating you up.”

“Cute...” Pomni felt butterflies. Her rocking slowed down, falling out of sync with the beat of the music. “That’s what you said about my hat hair. Remember?”

“I do! And I stand by it.”

The social contract of conversation required Pomni to respond with a laugh, or a ‘that’s funny’, or even a small, near-imperceptible exhale of breath — but instead, she simply stood there, thinking, utterly silent. And when she did get around to opening her mouth at last, her voice took on a noticeably different tone. 

“R-Ragatha…?” 

“Yes?” Ragatha’s mouth curled slightly — and not in the good direction. “Is everything alright? You sound like you have a frog in your throat.”

“Do you—” Pomni swallowed, “D-Do you remember what we talked about before? About…” she took in a shaky breath, “...something to live for…?”

Ragatha’s eyes flashed open with a jolt. The doll palmed the wet spot on her cheek, and flinched again when another droplet pelted her face. “P-Pomni! Are you—” she stammered, “Why are you crying?!”

“Because…!” Pomni’s face crinkled up, “B-Because, if you hadn’t said that…” she gulped down a long, shaky breath, “...if you had listened to me that day, if you had just left alone like I said…”

“Pomni…?”

The young woman’s tear-studded chin curled inward, coming to rest against her heaving chest. “... If it wasn’t for you, Ragatha, I don’t know if I would still be here…”

The old piano roll reached its end with no pomp or circumstance; the haunted furniture took a final bow, shuffling back to their places as the two-steps’s final chord faded away. 

A century of stillness stretched between the jester and the ragdoll. 

Ragatha pressed her hand to her lips. Pomni couldn’t blame her for her silence. What could Ragatha possibly say? Pomni didn’t know, and, given Ragatha’s flat, stunned gaze, it seemed the ragdoll was equally lost. 

“R-Ragatha…? I don’t know how else to say this…” Pomni’s whole body felt twice as heavy. Her body was a paradox, sweltering beneath overwhelming heat and flinching away from wisps of unbearable cold. “I think I, u-um—” 

Enough was enough. At long last, the two hearts spoke as one, crackling voices intertwined in an impromptu duet. 

“I’m sorry, but…!” the jester squeaked.

“That’s it!” the ragdoll gasped, “I can’t take this anymore — I’m just going to say it!” 

Together, they forced out the exact same words: “Can I please just kiss you?!”

…And time slowed to a crawl. 

Each woman was the other’s reflection, looking back from the other side of the proverbial water. Ragatha stared, at a loss for words, gawking mouth twisting into a little half-smile. Pomni stared back, eyes aglow, wearing the world’s dumbest grin without a care in the world. 

Smiles became snorts, snorts turned into giggles, and giggles bloomed into fits of gut-busting laughter. Pomni’s tears flowed still, but their wet, winding trails framed a face brightened by hope. “Did that just happen?!”

Ragatha giggled, pawing at her face. If she felt any pain — and she certainly did — it didn’t show. “Well?” she remarked at last, “I’m waiting.”

“Um…!” Pomni frantically nodded. “Right! O-Of course!” A bead of sweat traveled down her brow as relief gave way to worry.

She hadn’t the slightest idea of what she was doing. 

Pomni’s stance bent backward at a curious angle. Ignoring the added strain on her back, she swallowed, tilted her face closer to Ragatha’s, and then…locked up. For what felt like an eternity, she just stood there, knees chattering, staring into Ragatha’s eyes with a vacant, absolutely petrified expression.

“...Uh, Pomni?” Ragatha blinked. The moment was ruined. It was horribly, terribly, soul-crushingly awkward. “What are you doing?”

“K-Kissing you! Obviously!” Pomni shifted around, forcing a shuddering smile. “I’m just, um, y-you see—” 

“Is this how you usually do it?”

“Um, no. Not really…!” a beet-red Pomni shook her head, “To tell you the truth, I’ve never really, um…” her voice shriveled further with every word, “...I’ve haven’t exactly done this before…”

“Pomni!”

“Wh-What?! Is that bad?!”

“Goodness gracious. What am I going to do with you?” Ragatha playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, you already lifted me up. That’s a…start? I suppose? Look, just tilt your head for me.”

“Oh! Sure!” Pomni did — with gusto. “Is this good?”

“No! Not that much!”

Pomni let out a soft little whine. “O-Okay! Sorry!” 

“There. That’s better.” Ragatha’s yearning gaze closed the distance, “Next, close your eyes...”

“Like this?”

“Well, yes — there’s only one way to do it.” 

“Oh! Right…”

“God, you’re cute...” Ragatha filled her chest with a long, savoring breath, “...Now hurry up and kiss me.”

Pomni’s pounding heart was due to give out any second now. This couldn’t be real. Was this really happening? What had she gotten herself into!?

Slowly but surely, she moved her lips closer, closer, closer, until she could feel the warmth of Ragatha’s hushed breaths on her face. Her stomach twisted into a tighter knot with every burst of humid heat — but she’d come too far to quit now.

Carefully, very carefully, she—

“Ugh! Fine, then — I’ll do it!” Huffing just like a princess, Ragatha seized Pomni’s tunic, pulled her in, and pressed her lips against hers. She shuddered, squealing with joy as their souls linked at last. 

Pomni’s eyes were wide, her belly flat, her face a bluish hue as every last gasp of air was suddenly forced out of her chest. Sharply, she breathed in again, and a familiar scent stirred her heart like a siren song:

Strawberries and soil and fresh-fallen rain.

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-14 continued #2

(Previous post - current page 587)

We ain't STOPPIN WE AIN'T STOPPIN (well okay we are at the end of this post for a couple days)

==>

SO ANYWAY HERE THEY ARE IN THEIR MATCHING OUTFITS THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUTE AND THE SPIRAL ON CALLIE'S CHEEK ON HIS OUTFIT AND THE SPIRAL ON ROXY'S HAIR ON CALLIE'S OUTFIT THEY MATCH SO WELL AND THEY'RE A WONDERFUL COUPLE IT'S GREAT, WHAT ANDROGYNOUS SLASH GENDERFLUID SLASH TRANS ICONS YESSSSS

JADE: roxy, calliope, and is that kanaya? KANAYA: Calliope Roxy And Is That Jade

It's possibly been a bit since they've shared a proper Dream together without Feferi's earlier help having persuaded the Horrorterrors to set up a set of stable dream bubbles for them all to dream together in, but between Roxy's powers being able to knock people out and Calliope's powers of imaginary construction, a space like this in the Void for them to share asleep like this ends up being something they can do and it's sweet and wonderful. :D

==>

The image is nice and all but I'm mainly posting it for my own sanity as a confirmation that Calliope still has the Ring of Life on like we knew she would.

JADE: roxy ROXY: yo JADE: where... are we? ROXY: this is a special dream bubbie callie set up! JADE: i dont even remember falling asleep ROXY: yea i used callies special magic sleep dust on ya ROXY: sorry for conkin yall out also but callie said we had to do this tonight

Hm, something special about the here and now? Also I can buy that Calliope used special sleep dust, I think she's used that before to wake someone up FROM a dream (distantly recall?), but I still blame Roxy for being the vehicle this time due to her hero role.

KANAYA: I Thought The Dream Bubbles Had Been Destroyed CALLIOPE: i thoUght so too! CALLIOPE: the origin of these new bUbbles is Unclear, thoUgh it seems like they might actUally be emanating oUtwards from oUr destination, bUt i mUst admit i'm happy to see them back!

WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY THAT'S A BIG RED FLAG THAT THIS IS THE REBIRTH AND ORIGINAL CREATION OF THE HORRORTERRORS THANKS TO DIRK AND ROSE CREATING THE ORIGINAL SESSION THAT GAVE BIRTH TO ALL SUBSEQUENT BRANCHING UNIVERSES IN PARADOX SPACE. THE FRESHLY BORN HORRORTERRORS ARE CREATING BUBBLES AGAIN. ALL THAT'S LEFT IS FOR (god-tier?) KANAYA TO SEW UP THE BREACH IN PARADOX SPACE SO THAT THE BLACK HOLE IS LOCKED OUTSIDE OF IT FOR GOOD AND FREEDOM FROM CANON AND THE PLOT IS IN THE HANDS OF THE NEWLY STABILIZED TIMELINES OF FANDOM IN A NEW REALM OF PROMISE FREE FROM LORD ENGLISH'S INFLUENCE. Gosh I know it was all pretty obvious from the very start of Homestuck^2 but I'm still surprised to see confirmation SO QUICKLY LAID ON SO THICK

They're really doing this! They're making this hapen! The session to shape and begin all sessions!

==>

ROXY: ladies ;)

Smooth as always

Alright, what has Callie prepared for this dream and why is it not just for fun but also she's implying it's so important that it happens NOW???

Does this have to do with the activation of the Plot Point outside canon?!?

==>

Nothing?

KANAYA: Wow KANAYA: I Must Say That This Vast Expanse Of Nothingness Was Well Worth The Minute Inconvenience Of Being Majyyked To An Untimely Slumber KANAYA: Via A Substance That I Am Still Not Altogether Sure Isnt Actively Harmful To Biological Life CALLIOPE: a-hem. CALLIOPE: tUrn aroUnd!

I bet it's another stage

==>

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

What a daring dream.

==>

JADE: whoa ROXY: intense right JADE: so what exactly are we looking at here :o CALLIOPE: oUr Cosmic Canonical Correspondent. CALLIOPE: yoU coUld call it a visUal representation of oUr... CALLIOPE: well, oUr everything! KANAYA: Forgive My Ignorance But I Recall Our Universe Looking More Um KANAYA: Amphibian KANAYA: This Looks Vaguely Closer To The Door We Took To Claim The Ultimate Reward KANAYA: Albeit More Fucked CALLIOPE: this is trUe! bUt this diorama exemplifies something far grander than any single Universe.

Is it a "diorama" of Paradox Space, of the Alpha Timeline... or of their story? Of Homestuck itself? Or of the Game that creates sessions?

ROXY: i think it wasnt all crazy like this last time KANAYA: The Last Time KANAYA: Youve Been Here Before ROXY: yea it was like a million years ago by now but i came out here once on my way out a dream looking for my boo thang CALLIOPE: u///u ROXY: and it was more or less just a regular lookin block house back then CALLIOPE: i believe its cUrrent appearance is dUe to the work of oUtside inflUence

So is this the story Dirk is building, alt!Callie is building, or Calliope herself is possibly-unknowingly building, or all of it put together? The way it represents how HS^2 and the Epilogues built atop the original Homestuck would be a good reason it only looked like a block house when Roxy rescued Calliope back in the original story.

==>

I LOVE ROXY, HIS DETERMINED GRIN IS SO FUCKING ADORABLE.

JADE: you're saying he did this? CALLIOPE: i'm not entirely sUre! CALLIOPE: bUt yes, that is my cUrrent working theory. U_U CALLIOPE: i broUght yoU here together so we can discUss what is to be done aboUt this KANAYA: Is There A Reason You Neglected To Add Karkat And Dave To This Socratic Slumber Seminar CALLIOPE: while the knights will no doUbt prove invalUable in the impending conflict... when it comes to these erm... finer points of discUssion their chins do tend to wag... KANAYA: What ROXY: love em to death but they cant shut the fuck up CALLIOPE: in so many words.

Hahahahahah true.

CALLIOPE: oUr trUe goal with this endeavor has been rather vagUe these last few years and as oUr time on this ship begins to draw to a close i believe we shoUld start a serioUs dialogUe aboUt what we plan on doing once we toUch groUnd. ROXY: god i love seeing u boss up

We all do! <3333

KANAYA: I Understand That KANAYA: But Couldnt We Just Talk Normally KANAYA: Without All This Chloroform Ninja Shit JADE: it was a bit much! CALLIOPE: i apologize for my draconian methods bUt i needed to make sUre oUr discUssion coUld be held free from the prying eyes of oUtsiders.

OH COOL IT'S A VOID BUBBLE, if it works as well as they're saying it does then it means Dirk can't hear what they're planning!!! Not even Rosebot with her ultimate Seer of Light powers because this is as far from the Light as you can hide!

ROXY: yeah cuz this is about us! our family, our future KANAYA: What Is There To Discuss KANAYA: I Thought My Plan Was Well Understood ROXY: ok sheesh well thats hella badass and vengeful but like ROXY: damn shawty idk maybe theres other options then just goin in slicing his shit to smitheroons ROXY: and also like ROXY: COULD you, even?? KANAYA: Id Very Much Like To Try ROXY: lets maybe try something less fucked up first?

Oh wow, they want to SAVE Dirk from himself? That's about as ambitious of a plan as I would expect of Roxy in the full swing of his hero role! :D

I've been thinking more and more about the "Soul-powered Jujus" idea I keep linking to from earlier, and how alt!Calliope's narrative and possession powers were STUNTED when she was splintered in two... which could mean that they could save both Ultimate Dirk and Ultimate Rose by sealing away parts of their broader souls or powers into VESSELS. Possibly creating Skaia itself with fractured shards of Rose's Seer of Light nature or sealing it in the Cueballs, possibly creating Crowbar's Crowbar with part of Dirk's soul-- basically depriving them of their ULTIMATE powers and the corruption that comes with ultimate power, while still leaving enough of them left to be an individual self, see sense and survive.

There's almost no question left anymore with that latest revelation about the returning bubbles from their destination that the nature of the competition between Skaia and the Horrorterrors that forms the nature of the game itself is going to be established in this new Delta/Omega session or whatever you'd like to call it, and that means that the guidance and storywriting potential of the Great Powers that are Skaia and the Horrorterrors must be created, and only an absolutely incredible power could possibly become such quiet yet nigh-omniscient guides. Countless hints like the Orange/Purple "tick, tock" when Jade bet on alt!Calliope freeing her are hinting that the color themes of the Prospit/Derse alignments are retroactively the responsibility of the wills of Dirk and Rose in the first place, somehow diluted and conveyed all across Paradox Space to write these "stories" for every set of heroes and the challenges they have to face. The fulcrum between which the heroes' wills are the only force capable of finding hope and new life from the seeds of the doomed conflict. To quote Aradia back in Act 5:

FAA: a pr0duct 0f c0llusi0n between the disparate f0rces at play FAA: a bargain struck between what skaia kn0ws already and what the g0ds demand up fr0nt FAA: t0gether they 0rchestrate trials sufficient t0 ensure FAA: that in 0verc0ming them we w0uld be pr0ven w0rthy FAA: 0f inheriting the ultimate reward

Dirk is one of the only people with the power to divide a soul such as his, however... unless the awakening of Brain Ghost Dirk out in (Candy) land serves as enough of a fulcrum to partially disarm him like alt!Callie was disarmed earlier. (Or unless that taxidermied body Jade dropped wasn't just Dave's as would have been most obvious, but possibly Dirk's too...) Maybe things can turn so disastrous that they can convince Dirk to shatter HIMSELF, as he may be one of the only ones who can possibly do it, not just Ultimate Rose? Maybe seeing what he's wrought can eventually change a mind even as stubborn as his to some extent? Or maybe fracturing himself to become responsible for EVERY STORY THAT EVER EXISTS IN PARADOX SPACE is at the same time a core part of Dirk Strider's endgame plan, and by that point he'll have already won from his perspective, except to realize that the reality they've sealed OUTSIDE Paradox Space is more free and worthwhile to the readers than the one stuck inside it?

KANAYA: Im Not Sure If Youre Aware Roxy KANAYA: But We Are More Or Less The Foremost Experts When It Comes To Being Quote Unquote Fucked up KANAYA: Anyway He Started It KANAYA: Nothing Remains But To Finish It JADE: yikes! JADE: why don't we all cool off for a second, i wanted to ask calliope something. JADE: who did you mean by "outsiders?" CALLIOPE: er, yes. CALLIOPE: well, CALLIOPE: i began prepping my Dreamly Majyyks as soon as you were released from *her* hold. we needed to do this before she comes back.

Right, because alt!Calliope DID SAY that she would be taking the original Jade back over when they neared too close to their destination. So Calliope and Roxy are helping form a plan to earn an even better ending than what alt!Calliope can direct them to achieve alone...

==>

"Before she comes back." It seems this constellatory quartet doesn’t quite understand.

Oh SHIT. I guess Calliope can't actually hide from alt!Calliope.

==>

calliope: i never left.

YOU MESSED UP THE MEME

CALLIOPE: GAAAAAHH!!! ROXY: callie chillax ROXY: how did she sneak up behind us like that while shes glowing like a christmas tree calliope: i do not sneak. i was always behind/before/alongside you. calliope: i am always alongside/behind/before you. calliope: i simply made my presence known to you. JADE: what are you doing here! calliope: to make a correction to my counterpart's assertion. calliope: you believe the current appearance of the Home is due to the actions of the prince. calliope: that is a half truth, the root of the issue is far deeper than that.

Ooh, so we get some exposition from the source herself, who may actually be on-board with their planning, hopefully, as much as her hijacking of Jade Harley for so long put them at odds with her and her tendency to try and dominate with her power.

Explain what we just figured out to them, will ya, with juicy more details for us to boot? :)

==>

Oh yeah you have pissed EVERYONE off, miss alt!Callie. Might need to defuse things a little so they'll listen.

calliope: though the prince's actions have exacerbated the damage, they are not its origin point. calliope: it's due to the beliefs and desires of those far beyond even my grasp. calliope: it is all that we are/were and its current form is representative of what those outsiders think we are/should be calliope: this Home, in its current form, has become abominable. ROXY: idk i think it looks kinda cool calliope: it is not cool. calliope: it is an eyesore and worse, its purpose has become obfuscated, form plagued with an ever-expanding amalgamation of wings, and rooms, and atriums, and winding exhibition halls. calliope: all uncurated, thoughtlessly tacked on to accommodate garish, self-indulgent new installations. ROXY: and stairs calliope: and stairs. ROXY: it keeps happenin huh calliope: yes. calliope: it keeps happening. JADE: (har har har)

So we're picking up again and continuing to run with the theme that the READERS' need for loops to be tied up and satisfying conclusions to the story the kids successfully ESCAPED, at the end of Homestuck original, is what DRAGGED THEM BACK IN and is keeping them tortured by being "stuck" in a story other people are telling? Like the Monkey's Paw analogue Andrew originally described in his Q&A after the Epilogues about them always having been meant as a flawed wish because the readers wanting to know what happened next, by necessity, trapped the characters in a plot again instead of leaving them free? Daring for this to be brought back again along with all the other themes Dirk as the author avatar who must be stopped, who must be outdone by the fanmade story (Candy) outside canon, needing to be defeated.

calliope: although i doubt it can be restored to its original state, the growth can be curbed. calliope: with or without your assistance, these antics can be brought to a satisfying and hopefully timely conclusion. calliope: the prince thwarted, the renovations finished, and the rest of the recalcitrant furniture bolted neatly back into its place. JADE: are you calling us fucking furniture? ROXY: whos the couch KANAYA: Shut Up ROXY: sorry

Yeah this is a very alt!Calliope view, and the reflections of a different but similarly somewhat villainous sort of author avatar to mirror Dirk Strider -- alt!Calliope reflects the author's need to close every loop, patch up every hole, get all these fanmade additions under control and create a story that wraps up in a neat bow... even if the characters would still be better off FREE of said story. There are extents to which she's as much the author as Dirk, and can't be certain she's not another villain, having done so much damage to shatter the Green Sun and Paradox Space in the first place by leading her brother around in a shitty circle.

KANAYA: Calliope CALLIOPE: hm? KANAYA: No Not You The Dead One KANAYA: The Alternate Calliope ROXY: we gotta come up with a different name JADE: how about bossy dead bitch ROXY: oh snizzap calliope: you can call me al ROXY: aw thats almost cute KANAYA: Is This Cryptic Expositing Truly Necessary KANAYA: Al KANAYA: Actually No Im Not Calling You That calliope: for you, no. but there are other invested parties. KANAYA: We Were About To Engage In A Rather Important Discussion

"AL" is an ominous name, reminiscent of Cal, Hal, LE. Is it for "ALternate!calliope"? Or is there a deeper meaning?

==>

calliope: yes, you were. however, to make it simpler for you i'll tell you this. calliope: ultimately, what you plan here has very little bearing on what you will do. calliope: we will arrive on Deltritus and i will move this story to its conclusion without further complications. calliope: little else matters.

The emblematic author avatar choosing complete dominion over their characters...

ROXY: what the hell is dometriosis KANAYA: And Why Should We Believe Any Of That calliope: it is my duty to tell the truth to those i protect. JADE: well i think we're all better off without your "protection" ! calliope: you can choose to believe that. but my duty grants me authority that surpasses the need for your consent.

...And the emblematic hero OVEREMBRACING their hero role in a way that stomps on the wills of those involved and necessarily leads to a Just death.

==>

ROXY: im sure he thinks the same way

FUCKING EXACTLY, SPILL THAT TEA DUDE!

==>

snap.

calliope: meeting adjourned.

I wonder if and when events will finally convince alt!Callie that she may have chosen wrong.

Perhaps when the Plot Point does its thing and she finally sees the story that the original Calliope, the one she has always overlooked, and how the readers are more compelled by it than by the author-forced march of suffering alt!Callie and Dirk are forcing the story through to tie things back to the beginning, necessary as it SEEMS to them.

==>

*wake*

Dirk: Say hello.

Oh look it's this douchebag again!

Well, well, well. Look who comes crawling back. Had your fill of splashing around in the narrative kiddy pool? Sick of its sterile, chlorinated, artificial reek, its mind-numbing placidity punctuated only by the occasional thrashing tantrums of whiny fucking crybabies and the shrill rebuke of the lifeguard? Ready to take the floaties off and dive back into the depths of the churning, primal ocean from which everything that matters in this story evolved, and to which it must inevitably return? Of course you are. Come join me, the water's fine.

I still love how the moral of this ENTIRE sequel is supposed to be that we're finally shown the origins of Paradox Space's propagation system itself and every loose thread that could have ever been tied up in the entire story, and we're all going to care infinitely more about Yiffany Longstocking Lalonde Harley and all the characters and their unlikely children finding happiness in a ridiculous fanfic timeline than any of that LORE SHIT. What a cool Death of the Author moral for a story to have. --I forgot for a moment that alt!Calliope, one of the competing authors, is literally DEAD and still trying to maintain absolute control of the story from beyond the grave. Moving beyond HER too sounds like it may also have some meaning.

==>

Smug prick and his too-wide smug prick panel

As you've hopefully gathered by now, things are happening again. They've been happening again for a while now, since a certain handsome somebody decided to get off his toned, muscular ass and ascend to godhood for the sake of getting the narrative and all his friends' lives back on track (you're welcome, by the way), but they're especially happening again here and now. When last you left us, our Contest had just begun. Rose and I were beginning the lengthy and convoluted process of engineering our own races to populate Deltritus, meticulously tweaking their genetic profiles and respective collective unconscious-es in an effort to create a species fit to conquer the next session of the Game. 

Blah blah blah, recap recap recap. Guess it's been so long that you feel like you need to outline the whole premise of the contest again for us because we've been too busy having fun seeing everything else that was going on, and you needed to hide the two alien races you'd set up from us a while longer. (Are Rose's the necro-something?)

Well, I was. Rose dipped pretty early on in that visual montage to spend some quality time trading barbs and bumping uglies with the supposedly impartial proctor of said Contest, next to the vacant meat-sack that once housed her consciousness. Irresponsible, sure, but to give credit where due, it was irresponsible in a poignant and symbolically weighty sort of way. Classic Rose shit. Rest assured, however, that since then she's spent at least as much time throwing herself into the work as she has cruising for the occasional caliginous bruising.

He's really tailor-made his tone of voice to piss everyone off, hasn't he.

It's been a pretty good time, to be honest. Every now and then I can feel her interest waning, but she's done an incredible job cooking up a witty retort of a race to the deep rhetorical questions posed by my equally-if-not-even-more-bombastically-inspired offspring. She's proven herself a worthy rival, and a worthier collaborator. Her patience for this particular stage of our grand designs is starting to fray, but it's just as well; both of us have essentially done all we feel we can do to lay down solid bio-physio-psycho-sociological foundations for our chosen peoples. Rose's growing discomfort with and desire to move on from this process helps to curb an urge of mine that she's correctly identified as a deep-seated need to micromanage things I care about. A few days back we both agreed that it's high time we get this fucking show on the road, so we've put the finishing touches on our scions and are just about ready to drop them kicking and screaming into the wilds of this beautiful, doomed planet.

Time to stop dirkblocking us and show us your "fantastic" pair of alien races then? Are they going to have any characters we actually begin to care about? You'd better hope so for your sake.

Odds are the whole races either transform to some other force in the eventual game that becomes Sburb or simplify themselves into the white and black Chess People, but you (Dirk) probably knew that already.

==>

Seahorses, connected with pipes to white and black ichor, looking much like the Meteor biological engineering labs, huh? White and black like Life (white (reproductive?) bio-fluids) and Death (ashen ink), the chess and Order colors?

Actually, give me a moment. I need to fix something that's been bugging me.

Huh.

Dirk: Render yourself in a more age-appropriate manner this instant.

Makes sense, with the depiction movement we've been seeing lately. And embraces his awful older bad-parent-to-Dave self more. Reflecting that facet of his broader Soul/existence more.

--Alright, phew. I should pace myself a bit and actually stop here for the day. As much as I'd love to get back to Vrissy seeing Yiffy for the first time, there isn't TOO much of a rush back there yet it looks like, and whatever is between there and here seems to be too wide and juicy, and I've been liveblogging for something like eight hours straight, so I probably shouldn't push myself too hard. I'm definitely coming back to this within a few days, though, because Homestuck^2 is hooking me more and more.

We'll probably see those new races finally this next time!

[pocketfullofpearlies]

RISE OF RED: A TALE OF HEADS AND HEARTS

(Descendants: Rise of Red Fanfiction/Re-imagining)

Chapter 1

''You know Red, this is the best idea you've had in a long time, '' Cheshire Cat said, his grin even wider than usual. ''I mean ruining your mum's portrait a night before Hearts and Heads Fest is insane. I love it!''

Red stood back, admiring her handiwork.

''I feel like it needs something, don't you?'' She asked, stroking her chin with her hand and staining it bright red.

She bent down and picked one of the guards she had shrunk.

The tiny guard kicked and yelled, brandishing his sword.

''Tsk, tsk. You'd think that after years of training and the Queen's strict regime, the Royal Guards would know not to accept a random package of shrinking cookies they receive in the middle of the night.''

The guard yelled even louder, almost loud enough to be audible.

''Then again, I shouldn't blame you; you're all half card anyway,'' she mused. ''Still, what do you think is missing? I've licked up almost all my red licking paint, but I have an array of ostrich feathers and peacock glitter left.''

The guard wriggled out of her hold and poked her with his tiny sword.

Red gasped. ''I've got it!''

She dug in her bag, feeling past the family of rabbits and the pot roast in there for a pack of playing cards.

''I never leave home without them,'' she said proudly, flipping them in and around her hands.

The queen cards separated themselves from the rest and Red blew them onto the portrait.

Then she dipped her brush back into the licking paint and spread a slash of colour all over the cards, giving them all funky hairdos and moustaches.

''Purrrrfection, wouldn't you say, Chesh?''

''Um, Red, how strong were those shrinking cookies you gave the guards?''

Red looked around at the guards at her feet who were gradually increasing in size and groaned.

''Gotta bounce, guys,'' she said, taking out her pogo as she stuffed all her supplies back into her bag.

She balanced on the device and it started bouncing automatically, taking her away from the Royal Courtyard and Into the castle.

''Told you not to use those WonderTube tutorials,'' Cheshire tutted.

''Oh hush you,'' Red said, getting off the pogo.

''As you wish, your Redness,'' he replied, grinning as he faded away.

Red folded up the pogo and licked the remaining licking paint off of her hands.

She had landed in the H wing of the castle, but her room was all the way in the R wing.

''Might as well make a stop in the kitchen,'' she said to herself.

She started skipping along, and had made it all the way to the A wing when the Queen Alert on her skirt went off and lights suddenly turned on.

''Uh oh...''

''Redwina Scarlet Heartlynn Vermilion Rouge-Redding!''

Of course she's up working right now!

Red shook out her hair and tied her bag around her waist to form another skirt.

''Mum! You're still up.''

The Queen of Hearts looked down from her work throne at her daughter suspiciously.

She was dressed in a light red sleeping gown, her long red locks wrapped around red curlers and what could either be a strawberry or blood mask smeared on her face.

''Now just where are you coming from looking like what a Jabberwocky wouldn't want for dinner?'' she asked, her voice clipping through the air and snipping at Red's confidence.

''I was talking a walk in the rose garden, Mum.''

''Past the curfew? The general curfew I placed on everyone? Including those guards I'm going to behead for letting you go out?''

''Great! More people you're going to behead tomorrow; how fun.''

''Considering you're going to be conducting some of those beheadings, you should think it's fun.''

''Awesome!'' Red said, attempting to sound excited. ''Is that why you're still up?''

''Yes, if you must know. Tomorrow has to be perfect.''

''Right, right, yeah. But, uh, mum I was thinking-''

''-Well that's a ticket to ruin-,'' The Queen mumbled

''-What if we don't make Hearts and Heads Fest about general, widespread decapitations and turn it into more of a celebration?''

The Queen stiffened and glared at Red.

''O-or not? Forget it. I don't know what I was saying.''

Red shifted uncomfortably as her mother went back to work.

''I'm gonna head up to my room now. Goodnight.''

The Queen gave a very posh grunt and waved her off without a second glance.

Red sped off to her room and slammed the door behind her in relief.

With a sigh, she plopped on her bed.

Cheshire appeared as she lay down, an even more mischievous grin on his face.

''You could've at least told me she was up, Chesh,'' Red told him.

''I could've, but I chose not to. It's more fun that way. ''

Suddenly, Red's speaking mirror started beeping.

''Oohhh...lover boy's calling,'' Cheshire teased before disappearing again

Red rolled her eyes, then got up to sit at her vanity table, tapping the mirror three times.

On the third tap, her reflection dissolved, revealing the person who had beeped her in the first place.

''Hey,Maddox!''

''Don't 'hey, Maddox' me, Princess,'' Maddox Hatter said, giving Red a stern look. ''I know what you did.''

He took of his hat, briefly exposing his silky white curls, and pulled out a piping hot kettle.

Bringing out an elegant, hand painted teacup, he poured the hot, purplish liquid into it.

''Where's the mouse?'' Red asked as he stirred his tea.

''Asleep. Like you should've been instead of turning your mother's portrait into your personal sketchpad.''

Red groaned. ''Come on, Maddox. I play pranks like this all the time.''

''I know, but tomorrow's super important. It's not the kind of day to risk upsetting the Queen.''

Maddox sipped his tea and observed Red's forlorn expression.

''Look, Red,'' he said gently. ''I know tomorrow is going to be hard, but-''

''-Hard?'' Red interjected. ''Hard? Mads, your dad's tests and homework assignments are hard; trying to find an unpainted white rose in mother's garden is hard. But tomorrow I'm going to have to order someone's death! I can't do that!''

Tears filled her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks softly.

Red wiped them away, licking her fingers.

Wonderlanders' tears tasted like sugar, and on the rare occasion Red shed any, she made sure to take advantage of it.

Maddox sighed, setting down his teacup. ''I'm sorry, Princess. I wish there was something I could do.''

A lightbulb went off in Red's head, and she snatched the corresponding one floating mid-air and threw it away.

''Maybe there is,'' she said, her eyes shining with uncried tears and mischief.

''Oh no. You have your trouble face on.''

''What if you bring me that time machine thingy you've been working on. You said it's ready, right?''

''Not possible, Princess.''

Red pouted. ''Why not?''

''Well,my dad would disown me and I'd have to join The White Rabbit Gang. And, oh let's see; you could alter time as we know it putting us all in grave, grave, very grave, extremely grave -did I mention grave?- danger!'' he said, mouthing an extra 'grave' at the end.

''Okay, okay, I get it,'' Red relented, rolling her eyes. ''I'm just fed up with this. I wish I could go back and stop this stupid festival from ever existing. And I really, really wish I could leave Wonderland and see more of the world.''

''Don't worry, Princess. In time, at least one of those wishes will come true.''

''Yeah, sure.''

Red yawned and rubbed at her eyes.

''Being a vandal sure is exhausting,'' she mumbled.

Maddox laughed at how cute she looked, only for his laughter to turn into a yawn as well.

''I'm gonna turn in now, Princess. Goodnight.''

''Nighty night, Mads,'' Red said tiredly, tapping the mirror thrice to end their call.

After washing her face of paint and tears, she slipped into a pair of heart patterned pyjamas and hopped under the covers.

''Off with the lights,'' she said, making the lights turn off automatically.

She turned and twisted for minutes before falling into a tumultuous sleep, her mind fixed on nothing but the thought that by this time tomorrow, she'd have blood on her hands.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Kinkajou’s Trauma

Kinkajou felt herself tossing and turning in her sleep. Another restless night. She was panting and shaking. 

“Please. Let me go!” she cried out. She tried to press herself against the wall, to make herself small. 

One of the Nightwings rolled their eyes. “Why did they take the gag off of her? Just because her venom’s not strong doesn’t mean I wanna hear her talk.”

The other Nightwing slashed his tail and laughed. “Don’t worry, Dawnsight. We won’t have to be the ones who deal with her annoying screams. We’ve got a new little dragonet who’s going to be helping us with our experiments.”

“Oh? And who might that be?”

Kinkajou was shaking like a leaf, blood dripping into her eyes, tinting everything red. 

The one who walked in..

No.. 

No!

“Moonwatcher!”

Kinkajou jolted out of her hammock and felt to the floor with a thud. 

“Just a nightmare..” she whispered to herself. 

Moonwatcher, from her bed, jumped at the noise. 

“Huh, Kinkajou? Wuz goin’ on?” she exclaimed. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Kinkajou. 

“Kinkajou? Hey, what the matter? You’re trembling like a scared sloth.”

“Oh, ya.. had a.. um..” she attempted to stand up, stretching out the wing that she landed on when she fell. “I’m fine. Really.. don’t worry..”

Moonwatcher gave her that look. That look that said ‘I don’t need mind reading to tell that something is wrong.’

Kinkajou sighed and fidgeted with her pouch of skyfire. This wasn’t the first night this has happened. 

“Ok..” she said with a sigh and climbed back into her hammock. “Look, these past few nights have been… hard. Now that we’re at peace officially, since Darkstalker was defeated and all, I actually have a chance for restful nights. Yet.. my nightmares.. they..”

Moon saw the way she began to shake again. She extended a talon to her and Kinkajou took it gratefully, squeezing it tightly. 

“I have dream of everyone I know, dying around me..” she looked over at Carnelian’s old sleeping spot. She tightly closed her eyes, remembering watching her Rainwing brethren being tortured and slowly dying, and a deep sense of sadness washed through her, her scales painting to shades of stormy gray and full blue.

“And.. you..”

Moon seemed surprised. “Me?”

“The Nightwings.. they.. the things they did..” Her free talon went up to the side of her neck and traced over one of her many scars. “Moon, I know you were never part of that, but when I see you..”

Moon’s face flashed to that one awful Nightwing. Big and burly, who would look at Kinkajou through the other side of glass with contempt. Morrowseer 

She shook her head to clear away the image. Moon wasn’t Morrowseer. She just.. looked a bit like him. But that’s just her brain playing tricks on her. 

Moon looked at her with big, green, thoughtful eyes, listening to her every word. 

Kinkajou took a deep breath. “I know I should be over it now. I know I’m safe now and that you never.. yknow. You were never part of all that! I shouldn’t be scared of you! You did nothing wrong!”

Moon’s brow furrowed and her wings reached out to brush against Kinkajou’s. “No. Kinkajou, it’s ok to acknowledge and share these thoughts. That trauma..” she looked away for a moment. “It doesn’t just go away overnight. Sometimes you need to think on them, sit with them, accept them.” She tightly closed her eyes. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“Moons what happened with Darkstalker wasn’t your..”

Moon raised a talon to silence her. “No. This isn’t about me, Kinkajou. I understand if my presence may still be unnerving for you. We’ve been through a lot together, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still have a similar face to those horrible dragons who hurt you.. I just.. I just hope..” she rested her head on Kinkajou’s hammock as she sat on the floor below it, “that after everything we’ve been through you know you can trust me..”

Kinkajou’s eyes softened and she twined her tail with Moonwatcher’s. “Of course I do..”

The two exchanged soft looks and smiled. Kinkajou closed her eyes and, with Moonwatcher near her, fell asleep for, perhaps, finally, a peaceful night of sleep. 

Divider by @saradika

[maddiehu7]

My angel | Castiel |

Chapter 1

"Hey Bobby the phones ringing!" I shout from another room

"Well then answer idgit!" He shouts back I roll my eyes getting up from my comfortable position on the couch walking over to the phone picking it up I see a random number but answer it anyway

"Who is this?" I question suspiciously

"Mia? Mia listen to me" I hear none other than my dead brother speak i stare ahead in shock for minute starting to tear up before realizing it's probably a demon or shapeshifter

"This isn't funny call again and I'll kill you" I say angrily hanging up the phone

"Who was it?" Bobby asks coming into the room but when he sees me crying he comes over concerned

"Hey kid what's wrong" he says in the most gentle voice he could

"Some demon pretending to be Dean called...it was so nice to hear his voice" I say sniffling

"I'm sorry" Bobby says pulling me into a hug which makes me cry more melting into him.

It's been a couple hours since my meltdown and I'm back to sitting on the couch watching tv well Bobby's in the kitchen making something when I hear a knock at the door

"Really again I have to get up" I sigh out but stand up regardless heading to the door

"Wh-" I start to say stopping when I see my brother at the door smiling at me

"Surprise" he says

"I-I don't..." I stutter out but he interrupts me

"Yeah me neither but here I am" he says walking in I slowly grab the silver knife behind me slashing at him with it but he catches my arm putting it behind my back

"Mia!" He shouts but I swing back hitting him in the face

"Mia! It's me!" He says groaning stumbling backwards

"Hey what the hell is going on" Bobby runs in but stops when he sees Dean

"My ass" I say back to Dean speed walking towards him

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait!" He says pushing a chair infront of him holding his hand out I go to push it out of the way but Bobby stops me looking at Dean curiously

"Your name is Mia Elizabeth Winchester your 23 and your my sister our dads John Winchester" he says speedily

"Anyone could know that" I spit back

"Um....ok ok you've never had a boyfriend because dad, me, and Sam wouldn't let you,  um you love books, you rebellious like Sam but worse never following dads orders but staying anyway Because of me, um the scars on your left arm there from-" but I stop him moving the chair reaching out and touching his shoulder he smiles but I go to swing the knife again Bobby pulling me back again Dean swiping the knife from my hands

"I'm not a shapeshifter!" Dean yells

"Then your a revenant!" I yell from Bobby's arms

"Alright if I was either would I do this with a silver knife?" He says pulling up his sleep cutting himself I look at him bewildered that he's not in pain

"Dean?" I say starting to tear up

"That's what I've been trying to tell you" he says smiling walking towards me I immediately pull him into a tight him starting to ball

"Hey hey it's ok" Dean says laughing slightly with relief I just hug him tighter hearing his voice and finally hugging him again after all this time, I pull back after a minute tears still falling down my cheeks Dean smiling swiping them away meanwhile he tears up a bit himself

"It's-it's good to see you" I say sniffling

"Yeah, You to" Dean says coughing subtly wiping his tears

"Hey I'm here you know" Bobby says from the side me and Dean laughing Dean going over and hugging Bobby

"How'd did you bust out?" Bobby says pulling back confused

"I don't know I just uh woke up in a pine box-" Dean speaks but gets interrupted by Bobby throwing holy water on him

"I'm not a demon either you know" he says spitting water out I laugh

"Sorry, can't be to careful" Bobby shrugs

"So tell us everything" I say looking at him expectingly

~~time skip~~

“That don't make a lick of sense" Bobby says confused walking into the living room

"Yeah your preaching to the choir" Dean says back me and him following Bobby

"Dean your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, and you've been buried four months even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit” Bobby says

"I know, I should look like a thriller video reject" Dean sighs saying what everyone was thinking

"What do you remember?" I question carefully

"Not much, I remember I was a hellhounds chew toy...and then lights out then I come to six feet under that was it" he says looking away from us I look at him sadly

"Sam's numbers not working hes-uh- he's not..."

"Oh he's alive as far as we know" Bobby says easing deans worries

"Yeah just up and left me though in a time of need but yeah he's alive" I say rolling my eyes

"What?" Dean looks at me confused

"Oh yeah I lost both brothers it was real fun" I say with fake enthusiasm Dean just looks at me sorrily

"These months haven't been exactly easy, you know for him or us...we had to bury you" Bobby says looking at Dean

"Why did you bury me anyway?"

"We wanted you salted and burned- usual drill- but Sam wouldn't have it" I sigh out

"Well I'm glad he won that one" Dean says looking down at himself

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow that's about all he said" I say

"What do you mean?" Dean asks confused

"He was quiet...real quiet, then he just took of wouldn't return our calls we tried to find him but he didn't want to be found" i say looking down still missing him even though I'm beyond pissed he left me

"Oh damn it Sammy" Dean groans out

"What?" Bobby questions

"Oh he got be home ok but whatever he did it is bad mojo" Dean says looking at me and Bobby

"What makes you so sure?" I question

"You should have seen the grave site it was like a nuke went off then there was this-this force, this presence, this I don't know but it-it blew past me at a fill up joint...and then this" Dean says taking off his coat lifting up his shirt sleeve I come over curiously

"What in the hell?!" I say blown away by the handprint in bedded in deans shoulder

"What in the hell is right" Bobby says looking incredulously at the mark

"Yeah it's like a demon just yanked me out or rid me out" Dean shrugs

"But why?" I say confused

"To hold up there end of the bargain" Dean grits out

"You think Sam made a deal?" I say nervously

"It only makes sense” Dean says looking at me

"Fuck" I sigh out running my hands through my hair

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

♡♡Mother Mother Monster!♡♡

《Mother: A parental being known to take care their young.》

《Gojo Satoru/Yandere! Reader》

-

[Warnings: Yandere!Reader Also, I don't condone these actions. This was purely for fun and such. If uncomfortable, please don't read. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT]

-

"You old hag, get away from me!"

"Gramps!"

"Grandfather please settle down.."

"Don't call me that, witch!"

A young woman sighs at the older man as she fixes up the tea she made for him. Picking up the morning newspaper in hand as she sets the tea and paper on a small table. The older Itadori scowls, put picks up the tea and paper. Grumbling about how it's to sweet for his taste.

The younger Itadori smiles at his grandpa, sitting next to him on the floor. Digging into the tasty snack that his mother had prepared. "Go sit at the table boy!" Yuji stubbornly shook his head. "No, I wanna eat with you Gramps!"

The boy smiled happily, as a hand leand down to wipe off the crumbs from his chubby face.

"Yuji, don't talk with your mouthful. You'll choke." A tender voice said from beside them. The pink haired boy nods his head. "Sorry mom.." "No worries sweetie! Don't forget to drink your juice."

Wasuke frowns. "Don't drink it Yuji, she'll poison you."

"Pffbbbffttt-!"

The old man laughs at his grandson gullibleness, yet his laughter ceased when the little tyke starts to tear up. "Grandfather! That wasn't nice!" (Y/N) said, holding Yuji close as she wipes the juice off the boys face.

"You can't blame me for thinking that, I know how you were with Jin back in high-school."

(Y/N) frowns at Wasuke, knowing what he was getting at. "Mom poisoned dad before?" Yuji asked with childish wonder in his tone.

"A-ah, um, no sweetie... You see, mommy poisoned her classmates to make sure your daddy would be all to herself."

"Why?"

"Because, your mommy loved daddy very much..."

"Why?"

"Because she's insane." Wasuke informed the little boy, glaring at the so-called "mother".

"Why?" Yuji asked a third time, which made the old man sigh, exasperated at his idiotic grandson.

(Y/N) smiles softly, patting Yuji's head with sadness. "Love makes people do... Bad things, for the people they love, sweetie."

-

(Y/N) watches as Yuji silently cries to himself over the death of his grandfather. Her maternal instincts urging her cry with him, even if she couldn't. So all she do to console the young teen was to pat his back. Rubbing it soothingly to calm him. Yet her son's grieving stopped once another teen approached them.

-

"YUJI...!" (Y/N) screams, watching the man in the blindfold make her son sleep. Pushing the roof door open, she pulls out a steak knife from her back pocket, ready to stab this man to death.

Before she could land a hit, the man noticed her presence. Frowning at the man, she rushes at him. Making him drop Yuji as he slyly dodges her slashes.

"My my~! I didn't know there was a lady here. I would of showed off more!"

(Y/N) smiles at the man, which confused Gojo as she changes tactics. This time throwing her purse at him as he catches. Which had a good weak point for a good cut!

Smiling maniacally, she raised her knife to land a hit on his stomach-!

But was immediately put into a chokehold with one of his hands.

Feeling her breathing coming out in puffs. She doesn't let go of her knife, struggling in his grip.

"Heheh~"

Gritting her teeth she kicks her leg up managed to kick him back as she held her weapon defensively.

Looking at the young boy who had led her and her son to the school. Then at his supposed "teacher".

-

[In celebration for Jujitsu Kaisen 2nd season! (I HONESTLY HAVE OLD YUUTA FIC FROM MOVIE 0 BUT DIDN'T POST OOP) I decided to do a small thing! Originally, this was posted for the idea of a full Jjk fic, but.. Other Fandom get in the way! Oops, but who knows! Maybe I'll explore the idea more later! Thanks for reading! Comment appreciated!]

[axl-rose-lover-1987]

“Our secret is out”

Axl Rose x reader

Year: 1989

You were peacefully sleeping in the hotel room bed next to your boyfriend Axl and everything was perfect you and Axl had been together for about 3 months now and you had decided to come on tour with him. You really enjoyed it but being in public a lot made it very hard to keep you and Axls relationship private. You had started an acting career in LA before you met Axl and we’re pretty well known and privacy was very important to you and him so really the only people who knew you guys were dating was the band and their managers who helped make sure you had access to front row seats and backstage. You and Axl laid there exhausted from all the bustle of touring and Axl really needed to rest and was passed out. Then the phone rang. You ignored it it woke you up a little but Axl seemed unfazed it was probably just slash or Duff still up and calling to ask if they could raid your guys mini fridge But the phone kept ringing and Axl was definitely awake now. “Ughhh” you said rolling over to pick up the phone off your nightstand “Hello” you said yawning and barely awake “Hi is this Axl Roses room?” Normally you would say no but you were worried it could be important so you said yes. The voice on the other line definitely was a man’s and he seemed very perky for this early in the morning “ Ok” The man said. “Can I speak to him?” “Um” you said looking over at Axl you had sandwiched his head between two pillows to tune out the talking “Who are you again?” You said in a very tired and confused tone. “I’m Howard Stern from the radio show I have a few questions I’d like to ask Axl can I please talk to him” the voice answered back. You rolled your eyes to that response knowing the last thing Axl wanted to do was press. “Wait a minute” Howard said into the phone “who are you? You sound like a girl are you one of Axls one night stands?” “What’s he like tell us” Howard said. And with that you set the phone down on the bed not wanting to answer any of Howard’s questions and let him talk to himself for a few mins. “Babe?” you said to Axl leaning over to see his face. His eyes fluttered open. “Yeah” he said his voice even deeper than usual because he had just woken up. “Howard Stern is on the phone he wants to ask you some questions and now he wants to know who I am too” you said to Axl who looked confused trying to process what you had just said due to his tired state. “Oh my god” Axl said “ The fuck does the prick want gimme the phone” Axl said sitting up. You handed him the phone and he put his ear up to it and you leaned close to him so you could hear what Howard was saying. “Hello” Axl said in a tired annoyed tone. “Axl? Is that you man?” You could hear Howard say on the other line. “Yo it’s me.” Axl said rubbing his eyes. “Axl dude what’s up your on tour some chick just answered the phone for you your living the life man” Howard said you rolled your eyes and giggled a little. Axl shook his head and smiled. “Yeah man it’s great I love it.” Axl said. “So who is the chick though Ax is she hot?” “Shes gotta be hot she’s with Axl Rose for gods sake.” Howard said. “Oh yeah man she’s the hottest.” Axl said looking down at you who was dying laughing because of these ridiculous questions. Axl tried to direct the conversation away from you though he really was trying hard to not blow the cover of you being his girlfriend. So Howard continued to ask him questions about any new albums coming out and how touring was and how the band was and blah blah. Howard was still talking when Axl said “Hey y/n can you grab me some water babe.” Then Axl stopped realizing what he did. “ Your dating y/n?” Howard said. “I thought she was just a groupie do you have a real girlfriend Axl?” Howard said in a very excited voice. “Shit” you said. “Is she that new actress y/n l/n?” Howard asked. Axl smiled and looked at you with a we’re screwed look on his face. “Well looks like our secret is out sugar.” Axl said smiling at you.

[deceitfulmelvinator]

Beach Story Thing

Um, hey! In my English class, my teacher showed us picture of a beach. She told us to write a story about it. Here it is.

“Okay, summer is here. No studies, no stress, nothing,” my friend grinned, stretching out on his beach mat.

“Mmh,” I grunted, fiddling around with a pink seashell that I had found buried in the sand. “Says you. I’ve been signed up for about one-hundred classes for the summer, so that my brain doesn’t turn into mush, or whatever.”

“Oh, that’s so sad, I don’t care.” He tossed a handful of sand at me, as my back was turned.

He smirked.

I scowled.

“Honestly, Dylan, how immature can you get?!” I scolded him.

Sometimes, I wondered why we were still friends.

“Ah, don’t take it to heart. Here-” Dylan tossed me a bag of chips.

Oh, yeah, that was why we were still friends.

Anyway, we were both sitting on the beach in our respective swim trunks, when we heard a low whistling, coming from the sparkling, turquoise water.

“What do you suppose that could be, Trev?” my companion cocked his head, still wearing that smirk- though, for a second, it faltered.

“If you’re implying it’s the Volga Boatman, I don’t want to hear any of it,” I grumbled, though I shifted a little closer to Dylan.

The Volga Boatman was a Russian serial killer who had just escaped from prison. He always whistled a certain tune before getting his victims, The Song of the Volga Boatmen. The two of us, Dylan and I, would always snigger and make fun of his mugshots - bald head, yellowed teeth, a tattooed neck – but the only thing in my mind was the corpus of imaged of his victims:

Slit wrists.

Bashed-in skulls.

Blood.

Pools and pools of blood.

The whistling grew louder. A figure, the silhouette of a man in a rowing boat, grew closer. Dylan reached to grip my hand, so tight it was like a vice.

A bald head.

A yellowed grin.

A heavily tattooed neck.

We weren’t laughing this time, no- we were paralyzed. The Volga Boatman stepped out of his little boat, holding a blade that glinted in the sunlight.

“Oh, how convenient…” he rasped out a chuckle. “…two little boys. Weak. Pathetic. Da, you’ll be an easy kill.” Dylan grabbed a glass bottle of soda, hurling it the large man. It shattered over his chest, leaving cuts on his collarbone. His eyes narrowed. “Insolent brat. I’ll kill you!”  he lunged at Dylan slashing at his neck. Blood flowed out of the wound. Seeing red, I grabbed another bottle, getting up and smashing over the killer’s head. I watched as he toppled to the ground, catching my breath. I quickly remembered something far more important- Dylan. He wasn’t dead yet, no, but he was losing blood at a concerning pace. I quickly folded the corner of the beach mat over his wound, cursing under my breath.

“Stay with me man, c’mon…” I watched the blood soak through the meagre layer of fabric as Dylan’s eyes struggled to stay open. I grabbed my phone, dialing for help with violently shaky fingers. The line connected, and I gasped out the story to the lady receiving the call.

“Trev- Trevor…” Dylan murmured.

“What?” I softly said.

“I-I l-” he trailed off, his eyes slowly shutting and his breath growing more and more labored until it halted. Halted.

“You what, Dyl? Finish your sentence, it’s rude to just leave a man hanging like that. Finish your sentence, Dyl… please, say something…” I shook him. He couldn’t have been dead. He couldn’t have. Dylan, my best friend, the guy who gave me his food and beat my bullies and always made time for me- he had to have been alive.

I hunched over, the grief hitting me harder than any punch or kick. I buried my face in his chest, keening until it felt like my lungs were going to give way.

“Wake up, please…” I clutched onto the iota of hope I had left. His mouth was agape, drool spilling out. He looked like he was sleeping, like at the slumber party we had for my birthday. He kept muttering nonsense in his sleep, and I was kept awake the whole night.

All I wanted then was for him to shut up.

All I wanted now was for him to say something.

He was dead. I faced it. It should have been me. He was nobler, smarter, kinder-

I let out a long, blood-curdling yell. One that transformed into a sob. My pearly tears and his crimson blood stained the sand in a sorrowful mosaic.

Two people died that day, is what all the news coverage stated.

But, I wonder- without my best friend by my side, am I even alive, either?

[nikkistradlinhemmings]

Dream girl// Izzy stradlin Part two <3

-female y/n-

(Part one- https://www.tumblr.com/nikkistradlinhemmings/737898698973069312/dream-girl-izzy-stradlin-smut-part-one )

(Sorry if there are any mistakes, I have not yet properly proofread)

Warnings: P & V sex, losing virginity, oral sex, fingering, submissive, dirty talk, smoking, swearing, alcohol, partying, etc….

Summary: Izzy had a really realistic dream of a fellow famous rockstar daughter. He tried to find her and bumps into her at her house party.

…Despite the sudden realization, there was one question still lingering in the back of his head... did she actually exist? Where did this dream come from? A part of him can't help but be extremely curious about her. The desire to meet her again lingers deeply within him. His mind starts to wonder more and more... could she actually exist? He knows it was just a dream, but something about her felt so real. Her beauty and personality were a unique combination, not something you could find everywhere. This dream made him feel something he hasn't felt in a long time; genuine desire. His curiosity is now at the highest point it's ever been, he feels an overwhelming feeling to actually be with her… to have her in his life.

Just the thought of her being the daughter of a famous rockstar intrigues him. After all, she did carry many of the same characteristics of a famous rockstar herself - her beauty, her personality, her toughness. It's clear that her father's fame had given her a unique mindset. That alone was intriguing to him. But it also made him curious, who exactly is the famous rockstar? Who is her father?

At this point, Izzy's mind is set. He's finally got a hint to the identity of the beautiful, blonde woman in his dream. Her father is a famous rockstar, that is all that matters at this moment. But in order to find out who he is, Izzy has to do some serious research. He starts searching for any hints that could point him in the right direction.

Izzy looks through a bunch of magazines and newspapers he found in his room. After 10 minutes of looking. Izzy freezes as he's reading the article on Steven Tyler's daughter. He looks at a photo of her and immediately recognizes her. His dream wasn't just a dream, he was really looking at images of the real girl he saw in his dream. whose name, y/n, is even one of the most unique names he'd ever heard. So this is who she was?!

“DUDEEE!!!” Slash screams as he rams into Izzy’s room. “you gotta come to this party tonight, at Steven Tyler’s daughters house it’s gonna be sick” slash spoke again being all excited. “Have you met y/n?” Slash talked so fast Izzy couldn’t get a words or a reaction in. Izzy was so dumbfounded when slash mentioned y/n the girl form his dreams, his dream girl… did slash know her?

Izzy's eyes widen in surprise.

"Um, no dude, I haven't met her. But something about her just seems so special, like she's different in a good way. And, I mean, just look at her. Her beauty and her toughness, she's the type of girl you want at your side in a long-term relationship. Have you met her? Do you know her?"

“I’ve met her once, she as on tour the same time we here on, we stayed in the same hotel together, you where sleeping the whole time cos you were drug fucked, but yeah, axl, duff and Steven and I have all met her she is a pretty cool girl to hang with, she is not a hoe like other girls we know, axl tried to hit on her and she slapped him… it was funny…. Well get ready so we can go!!”

Izzy smiles as Slash leaves his room. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, it felt almost too good to be true. If they are going to the party tonight, then he will finally have a chance to meet his dream girl again.

-

-

-

-

It's now later in the night, and Izzy and the guys have finally arrived at the party. As they get out of the car, Izzy is extremely nervous. He's excited to see her again, but now he has to actually make a decision on how he will approach her.

he saw erini walking with Tom keifer, Izzy remembered that every rockstar likes to hit on y/n. He's going to have to find a way to be different than all the other guys in order to make a good impression with her. Izzy can't help but be irritated by how close they seem to be. And now here's his dream girl, just laughing and joking with another celebrity as if it's the most natural thing ever.

He watched as she sat at a table with vixens, and warrant, and poison and bon jovi, Cinderella, Tommy and nikki, ratt, Hanoi rocks. This is really not helping his mood. His dream girl is sitting at a table full of celebrities, almost like she's one of them. It's pretty clear that she's not the type of girl who is impressed by fame or popularity, but that just makes her more appealing to Izzy. He can't help but be jealous of the guys that are surrounding her. He would have loved to be in that circle, it must feel special.

Y/n looks up at Izzy and notices him, she looks at him like she knows him, she told her friend she will be right back and walks up to izzy

Izzy's eyes widen when he sees her come up to him. If it was her that walked up to him, than that meant he stood out more than anyone else that was at the party. That feeling inside him instantly gives him a boost of confidence. He couldn't believe he was actually talking to the girl he was dreaming about just a few hours ago. He felt an overwhelming sense of desire for her, but he could not let that interfere with his judgement.

“You had the dream too?” She asked being face to face with him.

Izzy's mind was suddenly going a million miles a minute. What did she mean, did she have a similar dream as him?!

"You mean, you had a dream about me too?"

“I did We where at a table in the rainbow, I remember we where talking and I pulled you over the table and kisses you”

*Izzy's eyes widened at this point. But he couldn't help but smile at this point

"Y/n, this is crazy. Not only were our dreams were the same, but it's almost like we were meant to meet. I feel this connection with you."

“Wait… Hold that thought Izzy”

Izzy was taken aback by this sudden pause in the conversation. He wasn't sure what she would say next, and was hoping that she wasn't going to break away from this moment.

Y/n grabs him the same way in their dream by the shirt but this time they where Standing so she pulls him down to her hight and kisses him feeling the same passion and desire in the dream.

Izzy's body reacts on pure instinct as she pulls him in to kiss him. He's experiencing the same passionate and intense feeling that he felt in his dreams. Now that he's experiencing this in real life, the feeling is all the more sweet and memorable. This connection was like an unseen force pulling them together, it was such an euphoric feeling.

the kiss got more passionate, y/ns tongue started to explore Izzy’s mouth, she tastes like whisky, like in the dream she said whisky was her favourite drink.

Suddenly y/n breaks the kiss, which makes Izzy nervous.

“I’ve never felt like this before Izzy, wtf, what’s this feeling” A sense of relief washes over Izzy when she asks this question. She really did feel the same way that he did in their dream. This feeling really was real. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something so intense as this, and now he's starting to realize that he didn't want it to go away.

"I'm not quite sure either. I felt this same connection with you, and I wanted to feel it in real life too. It's as if this feeling is an unseen force, it just pulls us together with such desire."

“Fuck Izzy I feel addicted to you… I’m not joking… fuck it I don’t care”

Izzy felt her fingers wrap around his hair, and that instantly triggered all of his emotions at once. He felt his heart start to pound. He felt the desire, the passion, he felt every emotion he had ever felt for her coming through in this one moment. When she pulled him down for another kiss, his body instantly reacted the same way by leaning in to kiss her back. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close as he let the intense rush of emotions take over his body. They remained locked in the kiss, all of the same feelings from the dream flooding in, except this time it was real. They didn't care who was watching this time, all that mattered was that they were together, having this intense relationship that they both felt was more than just a dream. It was like their physical connections could be felt beyond the mere touch of their bodies, it was as if they could feel the unseen force connecting them both, it was all flowing smoothly through their bodies.

Their kisses began to get more intense, more passionate than before. All that mattered now was the feeling of being with each other. These kisses were more than just passionate, they were like a rush of emotions taking over them. Their bodies were being consumed by the intense heat between them, a heat that was only getting stronger by the second.

“Uhh Izzy? Do you wanna go? Up stairs to my uh room?”

He didn't even need to respond with words, he just smiled and nodded his head in a very enthusiastic yes. This girl was definitely different than all the rest. She didn't want to take things slow. All she wanted to do was to express herself fully with him, no reservations.

As they walk upstairs hand in hand the desire grew bigger and bigger finally making through y/n bedroom door way, he grabs her and pick her up, while closing the door with his foot, then lightly slamming her against the wall.

“Please be my first Izzy” she whispered seductively, He was so tempted but he also felt guilty at the same time. She was a virgin, this was her first time. Was it wrong to just take it for himself? That thought was still there but was slowly starting to become a small thought in the background now. His desire over his guilt was becoming even stronger. His body started leaning in even closer now.

“Izzy I can tell you feel guilty and don’t I know you want it… fuck I want it too, I want you and only you… and I’ll give you head”

Her words sent another wave of desire coursing through Izzy's body. This was really happening, it was finally happening.

She practically jumps out of his arms and pulls him by his shirt to the end of her bed, sitting him down, on the edge, she starts to unzip his pants, he lets out a loud low groan, he throws his head back and she sits on the ground in between his legs and takes out his member, it was that hard and huge it slapped against his stomach, the desire he felt for her was more then ever before, she holds his cock with two hands, licks the tip, slightly teasing him,

“Fuckkk y/nnn, just put ur pretty little mouth around I can’t wait anymore!!” He groans pretty loudly, lucky there was a party going on so on one could hear a thing,

Y/n did so, she lightly and slowly put her mouth around his tip, Izzy’s moans got louder as the seconds go by, his hand goes in her hair, slightly pulling her more down on his cock making her gag and, “ohh fuck y/n” his moans echoed in her bedroom. He pushed her head up and down his cock, every time he hit the back of her throat making her gag, tears began to run down her face from the pain of his huge cock fitting into her mouth, “o-o-oh ur a dirty little slut for me huh?” He couldn’t barely speak from the pleasure that he was feeling from her deep throating him, before Izzy’s moans got even louder he pulled her off his dick, and kissed her mouth, passionately making out with y/n, and taking her clothes off, “I’ll go easy on you at first.. understand my little whore?” He wants her so bad the desire has him in a choke hold, she has him a choke hold, “y-yes”

He flips her on her back, and his hands run along her naked body “oh my dear” he admires her body, his hands stop at her hips and he pulls her more tightly, “have you have anything done to you? Or are you like a proper virgin?”

“I-l’ve never had someone do anything to me besides kissing”

“Oh such a good girl” he said rubbing her clit, she gasped as he teased her with his hands, one rubbing her clit and the other had his index finger teasing her folds.

He puts one finger in her tight virgin pussy, she was already wet, it was easy making virgins wet. “Oh baby we gotta stretch this tight little pussy out before I shove my cock so deep you will be drooling my cum” he said as he started to pump slowly into her hole, they felt like the only people in the world, all that mattered was each other, Izzy didn’t want to hurt her, he wants to first time to be amazing, he feels like he is already being to rough with her but she seems to like it.

He added his middle finger and started to stretch out her pussy, but he didn’t want to go that hard he didn’t want her to cum just yet, her naked body, her reaction to his fingers, they way she throws her head back in pleasure makes him want to do some really naughty things to her,

He slowly removed his fingers and placed him in her mouth and started to finger her mouth, as he lines up his huge dick to her entrance.”are you sure about this?” He asked wanting for her to respond, she nodded and looked at him with beginning eyes as his fingers wheee still in her mouth.

He started to tease her cunt with his tip, slapping it against her clit, teasing her entrance with it, with out warning he slowly pushes it in, they both could feel her walls slowly stretching, tearing her open practically, tears running down her face, he looks up at her and whips her tears away, “it’s okay you will adjust to it very soon” he made it all the way in, she could feel him in her stomach, he gave her a couple of seconds with out moving her to adjust.

he started to thrust deep into her already hitting her g spot instantly, they both moan each others names pretty loudly, he grips her waist pretty tight, well her nails clawed into his back, “f-f-fuck Izzy I’m going to cum!” She practically screams in pleasure…

“Be a good girl and cum for me, can you do that? Cum for me y/n” as he spoke to her with a very dominant tone, her organism came straight away, she was pure euphoric, her and Izzy where the only people on plant earth, all she could think about was him and this moment, her walls tightened around his cock, which made him moan, she came all over Izzy dick.

10 seconds after she came Izzy thrusted one more time and came in her, he was right, she felt like she could taste him, he loved this moment with her, he never wants it to end, he has never came for any girl like this so fast, he want her. She wants him. “Oh shit imma need more plan b” y/n said kinda laughing, Izzy laughed along with her. “But first let’s get you cleaned up okay?” He said in a caring tone, nodded and Izzy helped her to the bathroom, she could barely walk, she ripped her open, he felt bad that he has hurt her like this but happy that he spent this moment with her.

After Izzy helped her clean up, he helped her back into bed and laid down next to her, and wraps his arms around her body and pulls her close,

“I never want to let you go…”

“Then don’t”

[gnrbitch]

Summer Break pt.7 - Fun House

Warnings: Profanity & Smoking

————

Day 9, 1986

Y/n yawned as she stood up from her bed, rubbing her eyes she looked over to Slash’s empty bed.

Her eyebrows scrunched together, weird she thought, I always wake up before Slash.

Her sock covered feet walked out of her room, heading towards the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, then brushed her hair. Her usual morning routine.

Walking out the bathroom, she glanced over a clock that was right above the doorway.

2 pm, it read. Her eyes widen. This was the most sleep she’s gotten since the incident. Her thoughts & nightmares keeping her up at night.

Y/n sighed as she stood in the middle of the living room, where was everyone?

And as if the man above could hear her thoughts, everyone came walking through the doorway.

“Hey! you’re finally awake” Slash said as he stared at Y/n, smile on his face.

“Yea” Y/n croaked out, “Where were you guys?” she asked.

“Down at the Roxy, we got a gig tonight” Axl said as he sat on the couch.

“Who plays a gig on a Tuesday night?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the red head in front of her.

“People who have no life” Izzy sighed

Y/n just pursed her lips as she tried to stop herself from laughing.

She sat next to Axl, then Duff went ahead and sat himself next to her.

“Where’s Mandy?” Y/n asked, thinking about how she hasn’t seen her in a while.

Duff looked over to her, “She’s been working, and she’s been going to this like summer school. Some college shit.”

Y/n just let out a little hum.

“Do you wanna come tonight?” Steven said, smiling at her.

Y/n looked over to Duff, smile on her face “Can Fru come?”

“If he wants” Duff shrugged.

“Okay then, I’ll see”

After a few moments of all of them watching T.V, Slash in the kitchen (probably looking for something to drink). Y/n spoke up.

“Duff” The dark haired girl said, in a hushed tone

“What happened Y/n” Duff looked at her.

“I wanted to ask you if um, if Fru could come over today” She whispered, only so Duff can hear.

Duff raised his eyebrows, “As in here?” he motioned, Y/n just nodded her head.

“Okay. That’s cool.” He nodded, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Y/n smiled, “Thank Duff”.

The girl got up and headed over to Duffs house phone, dialing Johns number.

“Hello?” The voice said on the other side of the phone.

“Hey Fru” Y/n spoke, hand twirling the phone cable.

“Hey Y/n, I was waiting for you to call” John said as a smile grew on his face.

And as the boys heard who Y/n was calling, all heads turned to Duff.

Axl nudged him, “Is he coming over?”

“Yea he is, try not to give him a hard time.” Duff said as he gave Axl a look.

“Who’s coming over?” Steven asked, in a much louder tone then the boys were speaking.

Duff pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Y/n’s little friend”

“Oh m gee” Steven said as he looked over at Y/n talking on the phone.

“I asked Duff if you could come over” Y/n spoke on the phone.

“Really? what did he say”

“He said yea” Y/n said, turning to face the wall so the boys couldn’t see the smile on her face.

“I’m nervous, what should I wear?” John said

Y/n let out a little laugh “Jesus Fru don’t freak out, just wear what you usually would”

“Okay, okay yea you’re right” The boy breathed out, “When should I come over?”

“Now” Y/n simply said

“Okay i’ll be there in like one- three minutes” John said, Y/n could hear him getting up from his bed (Or maybe it was his bean bag, she was unsure).

“Okay cool, see you then” She smiled

“Yea, okay” He said

After a couple seconds a silence, Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes “Bye Fru” she said as she hung up the phone.

“He’s coming over?” Duff said, turning his head to look at Y/n standing by the phone.

“Yea” she said

“And you’re wearing that?” He asked her.

She looked down at her oversized hoodie & her socks, furrowing her eyebrows “I see nothing wrong with what i’m wearing”

“Also, be nice to him alright?” She said, her head tilting to the side.

“We’re the nicest people to exist” Axl smiled at her

Y/n sighed, “Just be nice”

“Shit i never told him what room number were in” Y/n said to herself, walking into her room to put on her shoes.

Before walking out the door, she turned to look at the five boys, who were already looking at her.

“Be nice” She said as she walked out.

“Are we gonna be nice?” Izzy asked, looking at Duff.

“I think we should” Duff said, wondering if he should interrogate the boy.

“Should i ask him any questions?” Duff asked the boys.

“Ask him if he does drugs” Slash said

Axl shook his head, “Probably not the right time to ask that question, ya know, after what happen.”

“Shit yea you’re right”

“Ask him if he’s a virgin” Izzy said, letting out a laugh.

“Okay you guys are no help” Duff rolled his eyes.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” John said as him and Y/n stood in front of Duffs door.

“I think so” Y/n said “Just be yourself” she smiled at him.

He breathed out “Okay”

Y/n opened the door to reveal all five men sitting on the couch (and two of them sitting on some lounge chairs that came from god knows where).

“You must be Fru” Duff said, standing up

John looked at Y/n with wide eyes “That’s me”

“I’m Duff”

“Cool” John blurted out, looking at Y/n to help him out

“He knows who all of you guys are” The girl spoke up.

“So are you guys dating or something” Duff asked, slight smirk on his face as he watched the two become flustered.

“No!” They both said in unison

“We’re just um” Y/n said looking at John, then back to her brother “We’re just friends” She awkwardly smiled.

Duff laughed at the two, “Alright, that’s cool”

“You a virgin?” A voice, which belonged to Steven spoke up.

Johns eyes widened (even more, if possible) as he heard the rest of the boys let out a small laugh “What?” he embarrassedly said

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, upset that they had made John feel embarrassed.

She shot a nasty look towards Duff, then to Steven “Fuck off Steven” she rolled her eyes.

Grabbing Johns hand, she walked the both of them to her room and closed (more like slammed) the door shut.

She rolled her eyes “Sorry about that”

“It’s okay, he just caught me off gaurd” he said, taking a look at Y/n’s room. “Do you share this room?” he asked, looking at the very messy side of the room.

“Yea, that’s Slash’s side, he’s not the cleanest person” She let out a little laugh.

She went ahead and layed herself on her bed (The side by the wall, if that makes sense). she patted the empty side next to her “Bring your ass over here” she said as John smiled.

Laying next to her, John turned his head to look at her.

“I um- I wanted to ask you something” Y/n said, remembering the concert.

“Don’t scare me” John furrowed his eyebrows

“It’s nothing serious” Y/n smiled “It’s just the guys have a concert tonight, and they asked if I wanted to go”

“Let me guess, you want me to go with you” John attempted to smile.

Y/n sighed “Yea. I just don’t wanna be there alone”

“I’ll go with you” he looked at her

“Really?” Y/n raised her eyebrows “I don’t want you to feel forced to come”

“I wanna go” John said

“Oh, okay” “But if you change your-”

John chuckled at the girl, “Y/n don’t worry, we’ll go together okay?” He said holding her hand.

Y/n nodded her head “Okay”

John looked over her face, “You know you haven’t kissed me today”

Y/n rolled her eyes, and gave him a kiss “So sorry sir Fru”

“All is forgiven” He spoke in a british accent, making Y/n laugh.

And on the other side of the door…

“What are they saying?” Steven said in a hushed tone.

“I can’t hear” Axl said, his ear on the door

“Should they even have the door closed?” The redhead continued, turning over to look at Duff.

Duff furrowed his eyebrows “I don’t think so?” he questioned.

Axl huffed, “Do you want them to have the door closed”

“Not really” the blonde scratched his neck

“Yea they shouldn’t have it closed” Slash spoke from the couch.

“Leave them alone man, what’s the worst that can happen” Izzy said, blowing out smoke from his mouth.

Duff shot him a look “I think we know what’s the worst that can happen”

Izzy shrugged, “You’re right”

“Maybe tell them something?” Steven looked at Duff.

“I don’t think I-” Duff spoke

“If you don’t tell them something i will” Axl rolled his eyes.

“No no, just go in there and see what their doing” Duff said

“What?” Axl furrowed his brows.

“Make up and excuse or something, see what there doing then come out and tell us” Duff said

“I could pretend I needa get something” Slash said.

“Perfect, okay everyone act like everything’s normal” Duff said, walking away from the door, Steven and Axl following him.

“Nothing about us is normal” Axl mumbled to himself.

“You better act Slash” Duff said

“Oh yea, i might change career paths after this” The curly head laughed, walking towards the door.

“No but really what was tha- Oh hey Slash” Y/n said as she stared at Slash.

Slash’s eyes quickly darted at the scene in front of him, Johns head was on Y/n’s chest, Y/n was running her hands through his hair.

Wait… has Y/n had a tank top on this whole time? Slash thought to himself

“Hey” he nodded towards the both of them, “Sorry- just came in to grab my um… jacket.”

Y/n smiled, “Okay”

Slash grabbed whatever jacket was laying on his bed, turning around and walking out the door, leaving it open.

“he left the fucken door open” Y/n mumbled as John lifted his head to look at her.

“There’s a lot of people in this place” John spoke

“I know” Y/n sighed, “But they’re cool, i promise”

“They sure look cool” John smiled “Real hardcore”

Y/n laughed “Yea” “But they’re actually some dweebs”

John rubbed his face tiredly on Y/n’s chest, lightly laughing.

Axl peeked his head through the door, scaring John as they made eye contact.

“What?” Y/n said as she saw John flinch.

“Nothing just- one of your brothers friends” He said looking at the door.

Y/n looked at Axl and laughed “What are you doing Axl?”

“Oh nothing… just keeping an eye out” The red head said as he walked passed the room.

Y/n just rolled her eyes “Regret coming over?”

“Only a little bit” John said as he looked at the girl smiling in front of him.

“Do you think they’ll see me if I kiss you?” John whispered.

Y/n looked at the door “Hopefully not” she said as she leaned in to kiss him.

“HEY!” The two heard as they broke away from their kiss, turning to look at who the hell was spying on them.

“Axl what the fuck are you still doing there?” Y/n asked

“That’s not what’s important” Axl said as he turned his head to call Duff “DUFF COME HERE”

“What?” Duff said walking over to the door, along with everyone else.

“I’m fucked” John mumbled to Y/n as she laughed at him.

“You’re fine Fru” she mumbled back

“They were kissing!” Axl said, pointing at Y/n and John.

“And you guys are just friends huh?” Duff looked at the two, especially at John.

“Don’t be so exaggerated” Y/n rolled her eyes “We just kissed”

“KISSING LEADS TO SEX!” Steven spoke from behind Duff.

The two teenagers’ eyes widen

“Jesus Christ Steven” Y/n said

“You know it’s the truth!” Steven said

“That’s not my intention with Y/n” John said, looking at Duff.

“How do i know you’re telling the truth?” Duffs eyes narrowed at the boy.

“I don’t know” The boy shrugged “You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you? Just like that, just trust you” Duff scoffed

“I mean yea- I get what you’re trying to hint at, But I never intended for the shit that’s happen to happen, it just did” John spoke, “Y/n’s a good person, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her”

After a few seconds of silence, Y/n spoke “You heard the man!”

Duff sighed, walking into the room and closing the door, leaving the other men outside.

A loud “Aw what the fuck!” was heard on the other side of the door.

Duff sat on Slash’s bed, facing Y/n and John, who were now sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Look- I appreciate you telling me that, and i know you two are just some teenagers and you guys should be exploring this world in LA, but i don’t want neither of you to get hurt” Duff breathed out.

“Physically or emotionally, and fuck- you guys have already seen some shit in just the week that’s pass. And i don’t want anything else to happen.” Duff said as he looked over the two.

“And I don’t dislike you Fru- it’s just that i don’t want you two acting like you guys have all the time in the world. Cause you don’t. Y/n’s leaving, and i need you guys to remember that.” He said, finally finishing what he had to say.

Y/n sighed, the ugly truth has been told. Neither John or Y/n wanted to admit it. But they had already fallen for each other. And it made Y/n want to cry.

“I get it” John said “Thanks for looking out for us” he sighed out.

Y/n looked at Duff “Yea- Thanks”

Duff smiled at them, “Yea” he said, “You guys still coming tonight?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just hit them with the heart wrenching reminder that they didn’t have all the time in the world.

“Yea. We’re going” John smiled at him.

————

CHAPTER 7!!!! I finally updated omg, thank you all for being patient with me 😭🙏. Hope you all enjoyed!!!

And don’t you guys start thinking shits sweet now muahaha, im already planning on some bullshit to happen😏😏😏.

Till next time xxx