#so yeah uh here ya go feel free to ignore it

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Computer Problems

If anyone heard the muffled sounds of violence that was me strangling my friends for telling me to do this.

And being logical and sensible about it how dare they!

Anyway so. I'm not sure who's actually aware of this? I don't think it's most people. But last year in February my computer got a huge crack down the middle of the screen, and the battery decided it wasn't going to be a proper battery anymore. Those of you who've been around for a while will remember that last year was incredibly difficult for me financially as the steady job I'd had for a couple years disappeared and other jobs I'd been promised dried up (ah, the joys of freelancing).

I now have an office job but it still couldn't fully cover bills until I got a raise which kicked in finally in March. I took on two extra jobs the last few months to try and take care of the debt I accrued last year trying to survive (and taking care of family members; I have been partially supporting a couple of them for the last 2-ish years).

I've put off taking my computer in to be fixed as long as possible. At first it was because until this office job my computer was my income, and I literally couldn't afford to have it out of commission for even a few days. Later it was because I simply did not have the money - my credit card was maxed out, etc - but it's been over a year and I can't see big chunks of the screen, and the battery is doing the equivalent of hacking up blood like a Victorian heroine about to die of consumption.

It's going to cost me $800 to get it fixed, and that's where this post comes in. I have a Ko-fi, and if anyone has anything to spare to help, that would be so deeply appreciated.

I know there is so much going on in the world and people who need financial assistance so much more than I do. Nobody owes me anything, and I feel terrible for even asking. But I've been informed there's no harm in asking, and so here I am.

Thank you for reading this long post, and my (as usual) long winded explanation. Any little bit helps, as does reblogging. I apologize for taking your time sharing this, and I hope everyone is staying safe and taking care of themselves.

Ko-fi

I also have a Patreon that's been on hiatus and I'll be returning to shortly.

[d6volution]

I don't know if this has been done yet but...can I request Yandere!Jax f_cking the reader into submission?! With like.. possession and obsessive behaviors? I don't normally ask for stuff like this so feel free to ignore, if it doesn't tickle your fancy UwU

I'm debating on making this into a little yandere!jax series hmm...

anyways enjoy!

tags: afab!reader x jax , choking, light oral, rough sex, possessive jax, cream pie.

Jax's eye twitched.

He was getting fed up with you, ever since you arrived here you've been acting like you run the damn place. That was his job.

Being stuck on his boat with you and the others wasn't making this ANY better. And it wasn't a very big boat, just a small speed boat big enough to fit everyone. Just barely.

For context, Caine sent you all off on another adventure, find the treasure before these nasty pirates do and blah blah blah whatever.

"Just hand over the map wouldja?" Jax extended his hand, still overly accustomed to getting his way.

"Yeah, and who put you in charge anyways little bunny??" You rolled up the map and poked the side of his head with it a few times before he rolled his eyes and gripped your arm, yanking you towards him.

"Watch it, doll face. Oh, and don't go running ta' Caine when your hand goes missin." He smirked and you jerked away from him.

"Wh.. Whatever just let me find our way to this stupid treasure so we can get out of here!"

Jax raised his hands in his defense, "Jeez when did women become so hostile, so much for docile and loving.."

"Jax I swear to god I'll shove your ass off this boat and make you swim back!"

"Oh yeah? Do it, .. I dare you." He stood up , making the boat rock a little and you followed suit. Gritting your teeth at his boldness.

Unfortunately your height made you look less intimidating, only reaching just beneath his shoulders.

"I'm going to wipe that stupid grin off of your face!" You basically tackled him and ... well, in the end you both fell over board.

Flash forward a few moments later and you both were soaked, sitting with your arms crossed like children as pomni and ragatha took over the map and guiding the boat.

"I hope you know your washing my clothes when we get back, toots."

You scoffed, "In your dreams."

The adventure wrapped up nicely, but you and Jax both opted out of the dinner to instead go dry yourselves off.

There was one problem though.. Jax passed his room and continued to follow you to yours.

"Just what do you think your doing?"

"You thought I was jokin' these clothes need quite the washing. You can't expect me to do it myself can ya?" He smirked, watching your face ball up as he belittled you right to your face.

"Buzz off, Jax I'm not doing your damn laundry."

You tried to rush into your room and slam the door but his foot caught it before you could, he pushed the door open without any regards to your safety causing the door to fly wide and open and you to fall onto your ass.

"Jax, you assh—"  You looked up , still frazzled from falling, and came almost  face to face with his crotch. He was still wet. Thus, his clothes were clinging to the large imprint in between his legs.

"See something ya like motor mouth?" He grinned and squats in front of you, causing you to hurry and scurry backward.

Your face was on fire.

"N.. No, just— would you help me up and get some dry clothes on!?"

"You're one to talk. it looks like your body doesn't like it when you lie to me." He rested his cheek on his palm, head tilting as he stared at your chest. Unfortunately, your clothes were sticking to your skin , and your nipples stiffened against the fabric, making it all too obvious that you were having more than innocent thoughts about him right now.

"Th.. That doesn't mean anything! I'm obviously cold!"

"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.. what's the deal anyways, scared I'll show you the time of your life?"

You laughed obnoxiously loud, "Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Oh, that probably sounded like an open invitation, didn't it— "Ah..!" Suddenly, you were falling backward, but you caught yourself by your elbows.

He was yanking your pants off, which wasn't easy considering that they were still very wet, your eyes darted from your pants to his crotch again, which was growing in size. You swallowed.

"W.. Wait, wait you prick!" You tried to sound more intimidating but it sounded like a helpless plea.

He sighed, "What now? You aren't chickening out, are ya?" He hoped not , he couldn't lose this chance now. This was just too good.. seeing you like this all scared and nervous it was doing something to him.

"O.. Of course not, I can do it myself.." He hummed in amusement, watching you with that shit eating grin.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck, what had you gotten yourself into? Even back in the human world, you only had sex like.. twice! And that was almost a year ago. But there was no way in hell you were telling him that.

You finally got the damn pants, .. and underwear off, still keeping your knees locked together.

"Good girl, so you can play nice." He grinned , your expression and sputtering made it clear that you were caught off guard by his praise. Too bad he doesn't plan on being nice himself from here on out.

He yanked you by your hips and immediately maneuvered your legs apart, he dove face first in between your legs and started lapping at your cunt without warning. His tongue was rough, long and warm.

The tip of his tongue nudged at your entrance. He was drunk on your taste already. Hell, if he'd give this up to anyone else.

You scrambled, but he was easily overpowering you, "J.. Jax, you.. bastard s.. staa..." You whined and tried to push his head away.

Clearly irritated he sat up and grabbed both your hands within his much larger ones, "Quit movin' or ill just fuck you without any prep, alright sweetheart?"

You stiffened up, fuck you can't let him win again. You puffed out your chest, which earned another grin from him. "S.. So what? I can take it, you think .. you think I'm scared or something?" You tried to challenge him, wondering if he'd call your bluff.

"Oh? Fine by me." He started to remove his overalls. Your heart was racing , breathe caught in your throat as his thick shaft flopped free from its confines, he was already lining it up with your cunt. "J.. Just do it! You scare—"

He gripped the fat of your thighs before he rammed into you, knocking the wind out of you. "Hn.. Hha—"

"What happened to all that talk, huh? .. fuck you're tight." He hunched over you and started to thrust into your warm cunt , slow and steady but you felt so full. It was definitely the lack of prep but you couldn't help but moan and whine in his ear as the painful drag of his cock made you feel absolutely dizzy.

"Hmm? Is this all ya needed, doll face? Some cock to calm ya down?" He chuckled and sharply thrusted against that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to yelp and wriggle beneath him.

"S.. Shut.. up.. hha.. fuck.." You sounded pathetic beneath, "c.. can't you do better than this?" Oh, you were digging your own grave here.

"Heh." He propped up your legs, your ankles nearly touching your ears. "Don't say I didn't warn ya, babe." His hips began to piston into your cunt which made a lewd wet and slapping sound, you were beyond aroused, juices coating his cock effortlessly. "Fuck, there we go.." He moaned into your ear.

You could hardly speak, gripping at his back as he relentlessly attacked your cervix with the tip of his cock. "pl.. please...!" You didn't know what you were begging for.

"Please what, huh? Screwin' with me all day, pushing me into the.. fuck— damn water. you deserve this." He panted, and sat up , putting a little bit of space between you before grabbing your throat. Placing just the right amount of pressure to get you tightening up around him even more.

He honestly did this just for kicks, just to see that scared expression again.

"Gettin' off to be choked too, what a slut. Nngh.. it's fine though, ya know why doll?"

He leaned back down, his hips never ceasing to move. Your foreheads touched, "Because you're all mine now. C.. Can't let this tight cunt slip away from me.. mnh.."

He knows you wouldn't even be able to leave if you tried. You're stuck here with him forever.

You whimpered and pleaded pathetically, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much, it felt too good. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure. "J–Jax.. gonna..!" You gasped, and he finally removed his hand.

"That's right cum on my cock babe, fuck." He grunted and used his free hand to rub circles onto your clit, pushing you over the edge immediately.

You yelled his name in pleasure, legs shaking and cunt siezing around him. It made you too tight, causing him to blow his load inside of you, "Shit.."

He slowly pulled out and a few more ropes of cum spilled onto your stomach.

Jax looked at you, all fucked out and barely able to keep your eyes open. He couldn't let anyone else see you like this.

Ever.

Unbeknownst to you, Jax just latched himself onto you. It'd be hard to rid of him after this.

It was like a coil snapped inside of him.

He stared at your for a long while, you were half asleep so you didn't exactly notice.

"Hey, toots." He gently slapped your cheek.

"C'mon.. we both need a shower. We can take care of the clothes later, yeah?"

"Huh, shower.. together..? n-no that's—"

"Ya really pulling that card right now? For all you know I could've just knocked you up, now c'mon."

The bunny pulled you onto your wobbly legs and into the bathroom to clean up.

[yuri-is-online]

Criminally Smooth (Floyd Leech x Yuu)

Floyd might have a concussion, but that doesn't mean he can't recognize true love when he sees it, and that halo the bisexual lighting of this cop car is giving you makes him think he might have a chance.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, based off a meme I saw and the song Bonnie and Clyde by Dutch Melrose. Vaguely modern au, hints of a mafia au? Yuu and Floyd are implied to be adults and full of bad decisions. More fic can be found on my masterlist.

“Hey baby, what's your name?” Floyd's teeth are sharp and his smile is weirdly wide, like he's trying to display his mouth for you. “You come here often? I swear I've seen ya somewhere before…” You take a deep breath trying to ground yourself, the metal of the handcuffs should be painful enough to do the trick but the ridiculousness of Floyd asking that question when you're both going to jail is overriding the discomfort.

“We've met before, yeah.” You grumble trying to shift to get a bit more comfortable as Floyd's eyes get wide as saucers in a way that would be cute if that meeting hadn't been him shaking you down for “interfering” with Azul’s business model.

“Really?” He sounds so happy, and tries to move his hands to do who knows what but gets stopped by the cuffs, which wipes away the facade of kindness as he glares down at them. “Well I must have introduced myself-”

“You did yeah.” You try to cut off whatever it is he has to say and try not to die of embarrassment when it doesn't stop him from babbling.

“I've got your number then right?” Floyd begins wiggling to reach for his back pocket and glares when Officer Clover tells him to knock it off. “You're just so fucking pretty please tell me that wasn't just a dream and I got your number.” Are you even talking to the same person?

“I don't think so?” He whines, whines! When you say that and looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “We uh. We weren't. Didn't get much of a chance to talk.” You shouldn't be flustered by this. Shouldn't be thinking that it's sort of cute how he presses up against the bars separating you in the back of the cruiser to try and get as close to you as possible.

“Aww well let me do it again please?” You nod and try not to fluster when he brings back the dreamy smile places his cuffed hands against the bars. “I'm Floyd, sorry I totaled your car, baby.” It wasn't your car but you know better to say that in something rigged for audio. “You free this Saturday? I wanna make it up to you and I know a real great place-”

“I don't think either of you are going to be free this weekend,” Officer Clover isn't even hiding how much he's enjoying this you really wish you could get away with punching him “sorry Floyd.”

“Ignore Sea Turtle, oh hey I don't know your name do I?” Surprisingly Floyd isn't annoyed at all, he's still keeping his mouth wide and gets even more excited when you begin to subconsciously mimic him. “C'mon what's your name pretty?”

“It's Yuu but you kept calling me-”

“LITTLE SHRIMPY!!!” He shouts so loud Officer Clover slams on the brakes out of shock, Floyd laughs as he tumbles around and you try to brace against the wall. “Dawww ya should have just led with that baby, I wouldn't have rammed ya. Not with a car anyway.” The police cruiser lurches again as you feel the tires hit something, slamming Floyd against the door and tumbling you towards the floor. He bites down on the metal of his cuffs making sure to keep eye contact with you as he chews through the metal, winking like he's putting on some sort of show and not at all surprised or afraid that your ride is spiraling out of control. “Remember, Saturday ok? And don't worry about dressing nice I'll take care of it ♡” His door flies open as Officer Clover scrambles for his radio and Floyd jumps out of the tank into an awaiting vehicle laughing the entire time, yelling a few choice expletives at the police commissioner as he goes. You curl yourself into a tiny ball and chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to process what just happened over the angry squaking you hear on the radio.

There's no way a judge is letting you make bail after this.

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x female reader - PART SIX

Feelingsss tiimmeee.

Please let me know how you like it!! Thanks as always for reading!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / Ken and Barbie meet in the real world and feeliinnggss happen / fluff / angst / super sweet lovemaking / fingering / p! In v!

For the third day in a row, you and Ken stood in line at the bubble tea shop.

“You know, you could probably apply for a job here. They’d probably give you all the free drinks you want,” you suggested.

Ken’s shuffled a little. “I, uh, maybe? I’ve only had one job before.”

“In Barbieland?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“What was it?”

He placed his hands in his pockets. “It was, uh, Beach.”

“Beach?”

“Yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “Like, you know how Barbies and Kens have titles?”

“Ooohhhhhh.” You cocked your head. “Just Beach Ken?”

“Basically.”

“What did Beach entail?”

“I just sorta stood there.”

“Just looking good on the beach?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

You smiled. “I could see that.”

“Oh my god, Ken??”

The two of you turned to the voice behind you and you blinked a couple times, taking in the woman who had spoken. Tall, blonde, bright faced, perfect smile.

“Ken! It is you!!”

Ken’s face rushed through a plethora of emotions in a split second before forcing a grin. “Barbie!”

You tried to intake this moment. Barbie, literal Barbie, stood in front of you, glowing with enthusiasm.

“I’m so glad you see you! How long have you been here?” She asked.

“Ah, yeah, like a couple months,” Ken said, hand fumbling with his pocket, trying to put on a cool exterior which only make it more obvious how insecure he was feeling in the moment.

Barbie turned to you. “Hi, I’m Barbara,” she said, “well, Barbie. Formerly, technically.” She stretched out her hand, and you shook it.

You were about to introduce yourself when Ken’s arm slipped around your waist. “This is y/n,” he said. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Of course you are! You are so beautiful!” Barbie’s eyes shone.

“Oh, god thank you - YOU are so beautiful,” you said, slightly overwhelmed by her beauty and the bright energy radiating from her.

“So what are you doing here, Ken?” She asked.

“Like, at the boba tea store?”

“No, here. In the Real world,” she laughed, and he forced a chuckle.

“Oh, just, ya know, needed a change of scenery.” He shrugged, forced nonchalant, and you wanted to ask where on earth this sudden display of insecurity had come from but kept quiet, just watching their interaction happen. “I might work here, uh, someday.” He made a motion to the store around him.

“You’d be so good at that! You absolutely should.”

“And, What, uh, do you do?” he asked.

“Oh, I work at Mattel.”

“You..work at Mattel? The place that…made…you?” You said.

She nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s wild. I get to come up with ideas for new Barbies and Kens.”

“That’s…”

“Bizarre, I know,” she laughed. “But it’s amazing. I’m learning to trust my instincts better here, too! It’s so weird to question everything I think! That’s not something I had to deal with in Barbieland. I go to Ruth a lot to confirm that my ideas are good but she keeps telling me I just have to go with my gut. And it’s so weird sometimes because the building is literally full of men. Like who would have guessed men make decisions about what women want to be?”

You nodded. “I, I mean, yeah, I agree.”

“Ruth seems able to ignore it but -“

“Ruth is?”

“She created Barbie! Her ghost lives at the Mattel headquarters.”

“She…okay…”

“Ken hasn’t told you anything about any of this?”

You turned to Ken. “Not really. He always made the couple times he talked about Barbieland sound so boring.”

“Oh my gosh. Ken would, honestly.” Barbie playfully rolled her eyes.

Ken forced another chuckle. “Ahh, yes, I’ve been focusing on adjusting to here, ya know, the real world. So I haven’t said much…about…”

“Yeah, well now I feel like I’m gonna ask a lot about it because I realize that I have so very many questions,” You said, feeding off of Barbie’s playful vibes, hoping whatever was stressing Ken would fade. It didn’t work.

“Well, if he doesn’t tell you, I will.” Barbie grinned, then nodded towards the counter behind you, seeing you were next in line.

You both ordered and Barbie did too, handing her card to the cashier. “Drinks are on me today!”

You thanked her, still a little intimidated by this woman’s presence and energy, so effortless and flawless and…

“So how long have you two been together?” She asked.

“Almost two months,” Ken said proudly.

“Yeah, we kinda found each other pretty quickly.”

“I love that. I’m so happy you found someone, Ken.” Barbie squeezed his arm and you noticed he flexed his bicep a little, almost like an automatic response.

“And what do you do?” She asked you suddenly.

“I’m a student. I wanna actually become a professor of literature someday.”

“I LOVE that. I’m so behind on reading. Like, 50 years behind?” She laughed again. “You’ll have to give me important book recommendations.” She pulled a hot pink card out of her purse and handed it to you, “Barbara Handler” embossed in pearly white on it along with her job title and phone number. “Text me. Let’s do lunch sometime.”

You nodded, thanking her, and Ken’s eyes kept glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“It is so, so good to see you, Ken. I’m so happy you’re here and doing well. You two are adorable together.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Barbie reached around you to pick up her drink from the counter, popping a straw into it. “So fun running into you guys!! And, Ken, I hope you get to work here. I’ll come see you all the time!”

Ken gave a half nod, half smile, as if trying to decide between the two.

“I was so nice meeting you.” Barbie leaned in for a quick hug. Dear god, how did she smell so good?? “I’d stay to visit but I have to get to work. Bye!!” She waved with that perfect smile and disappeared out of the door.

Ken stared as if dumbfounded at the door as is closed behind her, and you picked up your drinks and nudged his into his hand. The cold cup helped bring him back to the moment and he glanced down, then over at you.

“Hey, what’s going on, Ken?” You asked softly.

He remained quiet for a moment before turning to you. “Can we go to the beach?”

Zoey was more than happy to lend you her car for the day when you asked and soon you and Ken were on your hour-long drive to the beach.

Ken wore a pair of pink and green swim shorts, one of the few outfits he had brought from Barbieland, and you wore a see-through pink coverup over the new pink bikini you had purchased the other day. Usually Ken would be all over you, probably forcing you to find a place to park so he could fuck you in the car, but today he remained quiet, staring ahead. His elbow leaned on the door underneath the window, chin resting on his hand. Twice he reached across to squeeze your hand but otherwise he kept to himself, his usual enthusiastic candor no where to be found.

“What are you wanting to do at the beach, love?” You asked.

“Just…I want to be there. I think I need to.”

“Okay.” You rested your hand on his leg and he laid his hand on top of yours for the remainder of the drive.

You knew of a little area that you used to frequent with your girlfriends awhile back when you wanted to drink and hang out in private, away from the busiest areas of the beach, and after you parked you offered Ken your hand to lead him along. You held the folded towels under your other arm and walked slowly, letting Ken’s set the walking pace.

“What was the beach like in Barbieland?” You pressed gently, seeing what might make him speak again.

He shrugged. “Pink. Plastic.”

“The sand was plastic?”

“Everything was plastic.”

You stopped walking and kicked off your sandals.

“Take off your shoes,” You smiled, and he did as you asked. You sunk your toes into the sand and watched as Ken did the same, experiencing the feel of it for the first time.

“How does it feel?”

He smiled a little. “Kinda nice? It’s hot and soft but rough as well.”

“It is.” You leaned down to sit on your heels. “How does it feel between your fingers?”

He reached down to pick up a handful and smiled bigger now, lost in the moment of feeling the material and watching it as it trailed back downward between his fingers. He looked up at you. “I like it.”

You held out your hand to him and stood up. “Walk with me.” You both strolled along the beach, stopping once to have Ken stand in the tide area with you, getting to feel how the water felt when it rushed onto the shore and over his feet and ankles.

“Why does it feel different than other water?” He asked.

“I guess because of the salt? I don’t know, actually. I guess I’ll have to google it later.”

You got to the area you had been headed for after a little while, and unrolled both of your towels to lay them down onto the sand. You crossed your legs as you sank down onto yours. You expected Ken to sit down on the one next to you but instead he sat behind you on yours, wrapping his arms around you, nesting his chin on your shoulder.

He let the senses of the moment settle in: the noises of the ocean, the seagulls that flew overhead, your breathing against his ear. The warmth of the day and the warmth of your skin, the scent of the salt water and seaweed blending in with the scent of your hair.

“So what’s going on, Ken?” You asked, reaching behind you to pet his hair.

You felt him bury his face in your neck, his grip tightening around you. You allowed him the silence he needed until you felt liquid on your skin and realized he was crying.

You tried to turn to look at him but he shook his head, still pressing his face into you.

“I just….I don’t think I know who I am.” He worked hard to keep his voice steady but you heard the heartbreak in his tone.

“What do you mean, sweet Ken?”

He sobbed a little. “I don’t know where I belong.”

Your hand stopped its petting and rested comfortingly on his hair. “Oh, Ken.”

“I’m supposed to know who I am, right?” He sniffed and you felt more tears against your skin.

“Not necessarily. At least not right now.”

“I had always wanted to be with Barbie when I was in Barbieland, but she never wanted me.”

“Okay,” you encouraged gently.

“Then I went a little crazy trying to make her want me, but it only upset her. She deserved to be upset, though. I just…so…she decided she needed to come live her life here, in this world, and she helped me understand that I didn’t need to have her to know who I was, even though her leaving made me still feel so…empty.”

You tried to turn again and this time he loosened his grip enough so you could turn your waist to look at him.

He kept his head low, looking down at the ground so you couldn’t see his face. “I came here hoping something might make sense. I felt like I couldn’t figure out who I was. I know I’m me, but I don’t know what I really want. Or who I even am.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of at all. A lot of people don’t know *who* they are, sometimes not for awhile. And often having a permanent understanding of that isn’t always the case, either. It’s not abnormal. People grow and change.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid if Barbie knew that she’d be disappointed in me.”

“Why would she be?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Is it that maybe you’re disappointed in yourself, Ken?”

He raised his head a little now, looking up at you through wet lashes. “Maybe?” His voice cracked fully and he began sobbing, holding his face in his hands.

You placed your hands on either side of his face. “Ken, my love, can I see your face?”

He kept his face hidden, his shoulders shaking a little.

“Why are you feeling disappointed in yourself? You ever had a lot happen in a short amount of time. I’m not sure how quickly time works in Barbieland, but here, things can take a long time. A really long time, sometimes. And that’s normal.”

He pulled his hands away a little and you took the opportunity to pull them away from his face, his blue eyes oceans of emotion.

“Hey there, handsome. Now I can see you,” You cooed, and you got the tiniest glint of a smile from him.

He sniffed again. “I’m just worried.”

“About?”

“I’m so scared to lose you.” His voice cracked again. “I feel like I’ll stop breathing or something. And I feel like somehow that’s…wrong? Like I feel as though Barbie would say it is wrong.”

“Would Barbie say that? And even if she did, why would that matter, my sweet?”

Ken pondered this for a moment. “I’ve tried so hard to move on, and I have moved on, and it’s because you make me feel…insane things, y/n.” He exhaled those last words out as if doing so would nail them into you, that you’d understand without him having to explain further.

You nodded, cradling his face in your hands, and he automatically kissed your palm before nuzzling his face into it like always.

“You make me feel like I am someone,” he whispered, gulping before finishing his thought, “you make me feel whole.”

You leaned your forehead into his, and he lowered his eyes again, embracing the feeling of you close to him, watching as his tears dripped off his face and onto his lap.

“You are someone, Ken. And even if you don’t know exactly who that is yet, that’s okay. You’re someone to me.”

Ken sobbed and buried his face in your neck again, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, tracing little shapes into his back, something you had recently learned made him feel relaxed.

His breathed shuddered as he tried to regain control over his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr-“

“No, Ken, you don’t get to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I don’t know where I belong without you.”

“You don’t have to,” You soothed. “I’m here, and I like feeling like I belong to you.”

He pulled back now, your eyes gazing into his as he searched you for any sign of dishonesty.

“You feel like you belong to me?” He breathed.

“I feel like we belong to each other.” You pushed some hair that had fallen into his face.

“Yeah?” A light breeze danced around the two of you, and you brushed away a fresh set of Ken’s tears that appeared when you nodded.

His crying felt less from a source of pain and more as a form of relief now, and you held him close to you and pressed kisses onto his hair as he experienced his release.

“I’ve felt so stressed for so long,” he revealed.

“About us?”

“Yes. That you’ll get tired of me, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He sat up a little straighter and you leaned forward to kiss him, and he noticed right away and closed the distance himself as he crashed his lips into yours. The saltiness from his tears mixed with the taste of him, and you kissed him harder, wanting him to feel how much you felt for him.

“I love you, Ken,” You told him earnestly. “I want to be with you, and I want you to want to be with me.”

“I want nothing more than to be with you,” he replied, his lips still pressing into yours with sweet kisses.

“You’ll figure out everything that you’re wanting to, I promise. It takes time. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Ken held you and sighed into your mouth, hand resting on the back of your head to keep your mouth against his, kissing you passionately.

“How can I make sure you feel loved?” You breathed in-between his kisses.

“Anything you do makes me feel loved.”

You leaned your full bodyweight into him, encouraging him to lay back on the towel. The sun had begun to set, and the sea breeze tickled your skin a little as it began to cool down outside.

You straddled Ken’s torso and leaned over to look into his eyes. He breathed deeply and rested his hands on yours that had placed themselves on his strong chest. You began kissing him down his neck and collarbone, then down his sternum and abs, taking your time once you neared his lower torso area and his muscles clenched at your touch as he let out a soft moan.

You tugged his shorts down enough to pull his member free and began slowly began pumping him as he hadn’t fully hardened yet, and one of his long arms reached to grip onto your wrist as it worked him up and down to hold onto you, his eyes closing.

“What would you like, Ken?”

“I just want to love on you.” He hardened fully then and began to sit up, but your hand pressed onto his chest and instead he propped himself up on his forearms.

“Why don’t I make love to you?” You asked, moving around so you could peel off your bikini bottoms and toss them aside.

Ken smiled, eyes red from crying but shining with love for you, and pulled you closer to him. “I would love that.” He reached for your cover-up that you hadn’t taken off all day and pulled it over your head.

You smiled and positioned yourself over his cock but he reached his hand underneath to rub between your folds. “Let me get you ready first.” He sat up more now so you could hold onto his shoulders as he pressed two fingers into you and you shuddered, Ken pressing his other hand into your lower back to help you balance. “Ride my fingers, y/n,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving yours as you slowly began moving around on them, moaning.

“That’s so good,” he praised as your hips moved around and his digits sunk in deeper. “Fuck my fingers, my beautiful girl.” He curled his knuckles a little when he was deep enough to hit your g-spot and you fell into him a little, Ken’s breathing picking up with yours as you whimpered against his gentle pleasuring of you.

“My beautiful girl,” he breathed, and your arms wrapped around his neck to hold him closer to you.

“Ken,” you moaned, “I wanna pleasure you.”

He kissed down your neck. “Soon.”

“Now, please,” you almost whined. “Please, Ken.”

“Mmmmm,” he moaned against your pulse point and relented, pulling his fingers from you, and you reached down to position his cock underneath you, slowly lowering yourself on him.

Ken choked out a loud moan and shuddered, gripping your waist.

“Lay down, my good boy,” you cooed. “Let me pleasure you.”

Ken almost collapsed back onto the towel, holding your hand in his as he watched you circle your hips slowly with him inside you, both of you moaning loudly at the sensation.

“Y/n,” he begged, “please, please move.”

“I’m getting to it,” you smiled, setting your free hand on his abs to steady yourself as you began bucking your hips. Ken’s head fell back and his body tensed as you slowly fucked him, wanting him to feel everything in soft, smooth motions.

His hands flew to grip your hips when you began fucking him up and down, and his hips flew up to meet yours a couple of times, making you cry out.

“Let me hold you,” Ken said, and you nodded as he sat up and wrapped your legs around his waist then held you as he fucked up into you.

You both held each other and moaned almost incoherently to each other, and your body felt like it was exploding in fireworks, every touch from Ken electric. Ken’s heart sang every time you made a noise when he thrust into you, when you gripped him, when you called his name, your touch like a healing potion.

You came unexpectedly, your climax hitting you hard and you stiffened, shivering as Ken held you tight and fucked you through it, then stared deeply into your eyes before kissing you while he rode out his own.

You sat intertwined, gasping into each other, the only other sound being the waves crashing behind you, the sun having set during your love-making.

You saw the reflection of the moon in Ken’s eyes as he brushed hair out of your face, and smiled. He smiled back.

“Whatever we go through, we’ll get through it together, okay?” You said, and Ken confirmed his response by pulling your lips into his one more time.

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[wisteriaiswriting]

Steven, Pearl + Amethyst Finds Garnet Training Half-Gem Reader

Words: 781

First SU fic! Check out the masterlist for rules, characters and any future stories!

The amount of times Garnet has just suddenly rushed off couldn’t even be counted on the fingers of all the  hands of the three left behind, and that was a lot of fingers. And it would be even more if Garnet didn’t stay out all day, only returning or not leaving if there was a mission or something important happening around. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, everyone had other things to do, but this?

It was far too often, like everyday. The fact that she didn’t explain about anything, and that it was Garnet. So rightfully the Crystal Gems (and Steven) eventually got worried, taking it upon themselves to try figure out what has stolen Garnet's attention for so long

“I know you two are curious, but we need to respect Garnet’s privacy.”

“But, Pearl!”

“Yeah Pearl, let the kid be curious!” As Amethyst spoke she lifted Steven into the air, taking off while he started laughing. Pearl sighed before following the two, “Well, it can’t be that bad…”

The three made their way down the beach, following the faint footsteps along the sand. Slowing down when they stepped off, the only sign Garnet went this way was the trampled plants. Quietly, or at least quietly as possible, they made their way over. Finding a cave opening, which Garnet was walking down.

Once they exited the hallway and into the main cavern they had to dive behind some nearby rocks, while Garnet stood in the middle of the area. The walls were covered in small, shining crystals, all were varying shades of blue, which were sapphires. All over the walls and ceiling were a bunch of holes, who knew where they led to. The silence was cut short by the scream that was slowly growing louder.

Suddenly a bunch of ice formed around one of the holes, quickly growing into a slide-like construct. They watched as you slid across the ice, they expected you to go flying across the cavern, only for your foot to get caught on the edge. Hanging upside down for a moment as you shook yourself free, just to fall face first onto the ground.

“Y/N!” Feeling Garnet’s hands on your shoulders as you push yourself off the ground, first checking your face before your gem. Luckily it felt fine, and Garnet wasn’t panicking so it must be fine.

“I’m fine, I ju–” Grabbing onto Garnet’s wrists as you slipped, looking down to find where you landed was covered in ice. “Just need to step away…” With Garnet’s help you both stepped off the ice.

“WOAH!” Unable to cover his mouth in time, you and Garnet turned around to find a kid peeking from a rock. “Steven…” “As in that ‘half-gem’ kid?” “Just like you!” “Yeah but–” “Enough.”

Cut off by Garnet, who has now moved next to you. Placing her hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “Why are you three here?” “Three?” Watching as two others step out from nearby rocks, a short, purple skinned lady and a taller, paler one. Both of them rushed over for clearly different reasons, with Steven jogging after them.

“Garnet, when did this start!?” “Pearl–” “How long has this been happening? How are yo–” Ignoring her words when the other two came over to bother you, the purple gem started poking at anything she could reach. Which included your gem, causing her to want a closer look at it.

“Heyyy,” “Oh, uh, hey?” “Amethyst!” “Calm down Steven, so what are ya?” Brushing her hand away from your gem, looking back to find Garnet next to you and ‘Pearl’ walking over to the others. “Garnet, can I tell them?”

A small smile formed on her face as she nodded, “I’m a sapphire, and Garnet was kind enough to help me control my powers.” As you spoke you held out your hand, forming a small star. “With her help I’ve come so far…”

Seeing the amazement on Steven’s face, you gently placed it into his hands. “Y/N,” Turning around to find that it was Pearl talking to you, “Why don’t you come back with us, we could–” “You gotta show me what else you can do, dude!”

An arm was thrown over your shoulder which caused you to stumble forwards, throwing your arms out to balance yourself. “You really want to see what I can do?” “Duh!” Huffing as a smile crawled aross your face, reaching up to your gem to pull out something.

Soon forming into a weapon, specifically a whip, Amethyst’s. “WOAH!” “Y/N, can you do Pearls?” “I don’t thin–” “Absolutely!” It was going to be a long day, but it definitely wasn’t boring.

[monst]

Da rules

     I go by Monst and I guess I’m writing again: I do read faster than I write so enjoy all the reblogs lol

I like the color orange it's not relevant, just thought I'd put it out there

Uh the bnha master list is definitely not up to date and needs a revamp (I will probably get to that eventually, someday...soon...) Speaking of it Here's the DC one

Here's the BHNA one.

Here's the Kinktober2024 one

Anyways if you're interested below is basically the what's what. Stick around if you want.

 Okay cool! Let’s get to it:

All characters for nsfw stuff are aged up 18+ (If you’re one of those (Can't separate reality from fiction/fantasy) then the unfollow/block buttons haven’t moved from their location and you are free to use them at your discretion )  

If you're a minor while I can't stop you from reading I will block you if I catch you interacting with any of my 18+ content posts. As a matter of fact for my peace of mind and your safety I would prefer you didn't reblog/comment on my sfw stuff too, they're are dangerous people on the internet so please understand and don't take it personally-Thanks💕

Moving on-

     I’m cool with: 

Requests- Hcs, Scenarios, thirst posts, Ya sending ideas and recommendations👀

For requests I might not get to all of them in a timely manner and I might not do some I’m not feeling. I write for F. Reader, GN. reader and M. Reader. Ships are cool too so you can request Character x character or poly reader- character x character x reader.-Genre: all of them tbh

I’m okay with dark content- (Dubcon, noncon, yandere, somno, etc.) and everything should be labeled appropriately. You can always ask that I tag something if it is missing. I do like a challenge/learning so even if I'm not personally into something I'll definitely give it a whirl (Kinks and or tropes)

Sfw- Fluff, angst basically anything that tickles my fancy and isn't risque or full on smut.

* In regards to requests the things I do fuck w might be prioritized 👉👈

    I’m not cool with: 

Scat

Underage/PDF

I'm generally cool w being uncomfortable, especially in regards to what I read or write whether it be by being grossed out or scared. I've always been ridiculously curious mostly to my determent but fiction is a safe way to explore shit so I'll give most things a fair shake in other words the sky's the limit but use your discernment⁉️

Extra:

Random shit- You telling me about your day, thoughts, opinions on whatever ig. ask for advice (trust me bro I got you✌️) or info dump👀 I love to chat. 

Music! Tell me what your listening too! (Yes I'm one of those 'I listen to everything' I need new stuff to listen to)

Also! I miss the whole deviant art/Quizzilla shit so I might do a whole seven minutes in heaven thing lmao (This doesn’t belong here but scream at me about it cause I need it to happen for nostalgia’s sake) 

Also, I'm kinda using this space as a chill/fun mostly nsfw diary? lmao so it's just mostly gonna be vibes :p That being said keep your fandom discourse and weirdo hate bs to yourself cause I will clown/ignore you if you come at me w some sideways ass energy. I'm just as nice as I am mean so don't try me ☯️❤️

So here’s the fandoms&Characters if you wanna request: 

Mha- 

Shocker, but I do have some old asks that are too good to just let’em go ya know?  

Shinsou (I started this blog cause of him so.. yeah) 

Villain/Yandere Deku sorry

Bakugou

Endeavour 

Dabi

Hawks

Tokoyami 

Shoto

Dc- 

Please, please, please send me shit about Tim Drake. (Need him biblically) Literally hopped back on for him. 

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Bruce Wayne

Selina Kyle 

Poison Ivy 

Joker (Nothing good is coming out of anyone requesting this I just know it) 

Constantine 

Diana (Wonder woman my beloved) 

Amanda Waller 

Cheetah 

Slade Wilson… 

JJK-

Nanamin 

Gojo  (He's like crack to me istg)

Inumaki 

Invincible- 

Mark Grayson 

…Nolan...

Debbie

Alan! 

Naruto-

Kakashi ‘blow my back out’ Hatake

Itachi 

Shisui (My love)

Madara

Tobirama’s messy ass

Ask for more but these are my faves 

D- gray man-

Yuu Kanda!

Tyki Mikk

Kingdom Hearts-

Riku

Vanitas 

Most of the organization tbh

FF7-

All of them. 

But especially Sephiroth 

Any type of monster lmao 

Kenji Sato lmao

You can ask for others not listed in different fandoms I just think this has gotten a bit too long  

And Yeah, Let’s have fun! ^^

New Tags: 

         This bitch is yapping - Any asks answered or just general shit

         Thirsty bitch juice - Small scenarios, thirst,

         Pretty things- Art 

         Oh la la that’s some good shit right there- Fic recs & reblogs

         On my monster fucking bs - Monster fucking lol 

         Lock that shit up in the basement pls- cursed asks and stuff 

Uh random bullshit go! - My newer writing

And if you made it this far down here's a cookie 🍪

[astrxq]

new beginnings

chad meeks martin x reader

words: 1.8k

notes: the lack of chad fics on here is painful 😖. mentions of stabbing/scars, a bit of insecure!chad.

After the Woodsboro killings, Chad was extremely happy that Sam had suggested moving to New York. The thought of leaving all of his past behind was something he couldn't wait to do, and moving away for college heightened his excitement.

Trailing after his twin sister, Mindy, Chad carried both of their bags. "Care to tell me why you can't carry this, again?" he asked, fixing the strap of the gym bag that was full of clothes hanging from his shoulder. "Come on, big boy. You got this; it's just a few boxes," Mindy teased, pretending to flex her arm muscles as she had seen Chad do many times.

"Plus, Sam is also helping. And you're cheaper than a moving company, so..."

"Still? You could help." He let out a sigh of relief when Mindy finally reached her dorm room, knocking twice before a shorter girl opened the door with a grin on her face. "You must be Mindy! Come in," the girl stepped aside, and Chad followed with an awkward smile as he was offered help with the boxes. "Don't mind him; he's just here to help with the heavy stuff," Mindy said, sitting on the sheet-less bed next to the one with baby pink bedding.

Leaving the boxes on the floor and giving a wave to his sister's new roommate, Chad made his way to his own dorm, having to carry boxes once again.

"Hey," a small voice caught Chad off guard. Turning around to face you, he said, "Do you need help with those?" You pointed to the bags still hanging from his shoulder. Chad was momentarily stunned, taken aback by your sudden appearance.

He quickly composed himself and gave you a grateful smile. "Uh, yeah, that would be great. Thanks." You took one of the bags from him, surprised at how heavy it was. "Wow, you really packed a lot in here," you remarked, struggling to keep the bag from slipping out of your grip. Chad chuckled, "Yeah, I might have overpacked a little bit."

He fell silent; Chad wanted to be cautious about who he let into his life. He really, really wanted to. He would never admit it to his friends from Woodsboro, but he could barely sleep at night, and sometimes, when he showered, he looked down at the scars on his side and felt his breath catch in his throat for a second, wishing they'd disappear.

"Where'd you go?" you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"That thing," you used your free hand to point at his face, "you seemed out of it for a bit. I was asking where you're staying." Chad seemed to think for a second, falling silent once again. "Just down the street."

He had promised himself he'd be careful with who he let into his life; his sister kept reminding him over and over again about being wary of everybody, even his own roommate, who he hadn't even met yet.

Chad made his way towards his building, and you followed behind, thinking of ways to strike up a conversation. Silence made you feel uneasy, and Chad had a frustrated look on his face. "This is me, thanks for helping me with the bags," he said quickly and reached for the things you'd helped carry. "See ya," he muttered, turning around and pretending to look for the keys, knowing damn well that wasn't his building.

"I could help you get everything up there, if you want."

"It's fine." Chad was nice; he knew he was. But Mindy's words kept repeating in his head: "Do not trust anybody, not even your own shadow." A little lie couldn't hurt anyone, could it? Seeing that Chad was practically ignoring you, you reached to tap his shoulder. "If you don't need anything else, I'll let you get settled in. I'll see you around? I think?"

He nodded. "Sure, yeah." You could sense some kind of discomfort on his face, even though his voice sounded cheerful. Chad waited for you to be far enough to quickly pick up his things again and go to his actual building, feeling incredibly guilty by the stunt he'd just pulled.

"You're the dumbest person I've ever met," Mindy texted after Chad sent a two-minute-long voice message explaining what had just happened. "Kudos on the not trusting strangers thing, though. So glad to see that somebody actually listens to me."

He heard the sound of keys jiggling together, then the front door closing. "You scared the shit out of me, man," he said once he saw the curly-haired guy holding a bunch of bags. His roommate gave him a confused look, clearly seeing Chad relax after seeming so tense at his entry.

It had been a couple of hours since he'd settled in; it was already dark outside, and his roommate, Ethan, was lying on his bed watching what seemed like a YouTube video on his phone. So, Chad decided to go for a walk to clear his head. He paced around for a bit, not really knowing where he was headed, but the group of students walking in front of him made him feel more at peace.

"Hey, you," you said, walking out of your own building with a notebook in your hands. "Going for a walk?" He nodded. "Yep, just needed some fresh air," Chad replied, noticing the notebook in your hands. "Are you a writer or something?"

You chuckled, glancing down at your hands. "Sort of. I'm studying journalism, so I'm always jotting down ideas." Chad made a move to hold out his hands, urging you to ask more about what you had written down on the page that was showing. "Do you mind if I join your walk?"

"Sure," Chad said, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of things do you write about?" A warm smile formed on your face as you walked alongside him. "Everything, really. I think if it's written well, anything can be interesting."

Chad nodded, his eyes wandering over the bustling streets of the campus. The city lights illuminated the night sky, creating a vibrant backdrop for their conversation. As he walked beside you, Chad couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in your presence. He had been so guarded since the Woodsboro incident, but something about you made him feel at ease.

"You know," Chad began, choosing his words carefully, "I'm sorry if I seemed off earlier."

You glanced at him, empathy shining in your eyes. "Oh! It's okay, moving can be very stressful. Where are you from?... Sorry, I forgot to ask for your name," you admitted, a bit embarrassed that you had started babbling and rambling to a boy whose name you didn't even know. "Chad," he replied, "I'm from-" he seemed to think, "Michigan. I came with my sister and my friends."

"That's very nice, Chad. I hope you all settle in just fine," you patted his arm, and Chad felt like he'd never been more relaxed. "I'm Y/N. If any of you need anything, you know where to find me." You pointed back to the building you'd just come out of, and Chad recognized his sister's dorm window from afar.

His gaze met yours, and Chad

 felt a flicker of hope within him. Maybe opening up to someone, even a stranger, could be a step toward healing the wounds that haunted him. As you kept walking, Chad started to open up a bit; his closed-off persona had merged into a charming one, and he didn't seem to mind that he'd turned off his overthinking so quickly.

"Wanna sit for a bit?" Chad offered. He let you sit down on the bench first and then positioned himself next to you, so close that he could feel the goosebumps on your arms. You didn't even know if it was because of the cold or because of how close you were sitting.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the campus at night. The cool breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby trees, and the distant sounds of laughter and music from a nearby bar filled the air.

Chad broke the silence, his voice gentle. "So, what made you choose journalism?"

You turned to him, a hint of excitement in your eyes. "I've always been fascinated by storytelling."

Chad nodded, his gaze fixed on the campus courtyard. "It sure sounds fun. I used to pretend I was a famous news reporter when I was little." You barked out a laugh, and he felt a smile playing on his lips. "I'm sure there's a video of me and Mindy dressed up and giving updates on sports games."

You held the same smile he did. "I'd love to see that, God." Chad chuckled. The conversation flowed effortlessly as you shared stories about your childhood, comparing anecdotes as if you'd known each other for ages. The more you talked, the more Chad found himself opening up.

"Moving here was my chance to start fresh, to leave behind the weight of the past. It's liberating, you know?" You nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. "Absolutely. Sometimes a change of scenery is exactly what we need to grow and find ourselves."

Chad wouldn't tell you about his motive behind moving to New York, not yet at least. So he didn't correct you. Despite the darkness he carried from Woodsboro, he was determined to move forward and build a new life for himself.

Before you knew it, almost two hours had passed, and the night had deepened. The campus had quieted down, and the distant sounds of music had faded away. Chad glanced at his phone, surprised by how late it had gotten, and read over the goodnight texts from the group chat with his friends.

The conversation started to dwindle, but neither of you seemed eager to part ways just yet. The connection you had formed felt too precious to let go so easily.

"We should probably head back," Chad finally said, glancing at his watch. "It's getting late."

You nodded, understanding the need to call it a night. You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's been an amazing conversation. Thanks for keeping me company."

Chad smiled. "No, thank you. It's been a while since I've had such a great conversation with someone. You've made my first day here much better than I anticipated."

The sincerity in his voice touched you, and you felt a connection deepening between you. There was an unspoken understanding, a sense that you both had found something special in each other's company.

You both stood up from the bench, a slight reluctance in your movements. Chad hesitated for a moment, then gathered the courage to ask, "Hey, would you like to grab food together sometime? I'd love to continue our conversation."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded. "I'd like that."

'Okay. Maybe you're not THAT dumb,' Mindy texted once she saw her twin brother walk her neighbor to the door.

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet- Get Up

Based on art by @mferret9

Notes: Sorry it's only a ficlet and not a full one shot. I haven't had a lot of energy lately. Hope you still enjoy!

Timeline: Season 3, Blitz and Stolas are dating. Currently on a date.

"Stols look! It's that coffee place I wanted to take you to. They're finally open!", I yell and grab his lanky as fuck arm, pulling him toward the door. He chuckles in that hooting way that makes my lips crack a smile and I flash one back.

There aren't many decent coffee places in Pride, and I think I've been to almost all of them. But Stolas hasn't. And it's fall. I want to get him some seasonal shit. That's what couples do, right? Seasonal shit?

Stolas ponders the menu as he does. He ponders a lot. Is that just a bird thing? Or do all Goetia ponder? I don't think I ponder. I think, of course. But never ponder.

"Darling?" He asks, snapping me out of my racing thoughts. I blink and look up at him, "uh yeah?" He chuckles again, "I'm not sure what to get".

I pretend to ponder. My hand rubbing my chin.

"Ya like pumpkin spice?" I ask him. Of course he does. He's kind of a basic bitch.

"Uhm well, I don't know. I've never had it", he replies and I squeeze his hand and scoff,

"A basic bitch that's never had a pumpkin spice?" I say, then look to the cashier, "One medium pumpkin spice and an extra spicy medium iced chai", I tell her.

She rings us up and I slam down my card before Stolas can even get out his wallet and he blushes. I love seeing him flustered.

"Don't worry, I got it", I tell him and rub the top of his hand, kissing it as my other hand slides the card to the cashier. Ignoring the cashier's looks, she slides it and hands it back as I'm enamored with Stolas's red as fuck face.

"Sir. You can wait for your drinks over there", she points. Stolas giggles and I shoot her a look then pull him over to a table in the corner. Ever since we got together every single little drop of affection I give to this bird in public drives him wild. And I lap it all up like a horse at a drinking hole.

Once we sit I can feel one of his long ass legs shaking under the table against mine and I rub his hand again.

"Something bothering you?" I ask, smug. Stolas squeaks adorably, "You know what you're doing", he replies and I smile wide as he pouts, crossing his arms.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Hold that thought-", I stand up and grab our drinks. Placing them back on the table and sitting back down, He clenches my shirt and gestures to one of those non gendered family bathrooms in the cafe and I chuckle.

I put my hand over his and unclench his hand.

"Lemme just get a sip in first", I say as I put the straw to my lip agonizingly slow. Stolas sighs and stands up. I barely get one sip and am able to put the coffee down when he grabs my arm and pulls me into the bathroom. Locking the door.

I smile and chuckle again, running my hands through the back of his feathered head. Damn he is so pretty. Since it's autumn he's changed to a wardrobe of all sweaters. Today's with cut outs for his shoulders and chest. It's so fucking sexy.

He picks me up and pushes me against the door. Our tongues meet and it's like feeling alive again since we did this two hours ago. I don't know if his magic is stored in his fucking tongue and beak or what but it damn feels like it. His free hand wanders under my shirt and traces along my back spikes and a moan escapes. Fuck why is he the only one that can do that?

His tongue is moving behind my teeth and down my mouth and I'm getting so hard but-

I pull back for a breath, a heavy one.

"Hehe, sorry to interrupt but uh, not really up for bathroom sex right now", I tell him. He bites his beak and nods,

"Okay I-I can conjure a portal in here and we can go home", he replies. Home. He's been calling the palace that when we're together. He didn't used to.

I rub the back of my neck, he puts me down.

"Unless that's-unless you don't want-", He stutters. I bite my lip, say something you idiot.

"Nah Stols I just wanna finish our date okay? We got coffee for a reason let's...go to the park. Get fresh air", I tell him, grabbing his hand.

He nods hesitantly, "O...Kay.." he looks at me skeptically. Probably because I've never backed out of a make out sesh with him ever. But I'm just...not feeling it right now. I don't know. Which is weird for me. I'm never not feeling it. (Except Ozzies but we don't talk about that night).

We walk back to our table, cheeks flushed and of course the whole cafe staring at us now. I grab our drinks and hand him his as we walk out the door.

We walk a good few blocks, sipping our coffees and feeling the crisp air. While it's not like fall on Earth where there's trees with falling leaves, it does get fucking cold. I huddle closer to Stolas at one point and he puts his hand on my shoulder blades.

Then we get to the park and he-stops. I turn around, "What's up?" I ask him. He fiddles with his hands, his nervous tick. Next he's going to hug himself. He does.

"Blitz I just...wanted to tell you....", he starts. I hate confessions. They're always too fucking long drawn out and always more emotional than they need to be. But Stolas is a fan.

"Spit it out sweety bird", I say. Hoping the endearing words lessen the blow.

"Blitz I...I think I've fallen for you", he says. What is this a fall pun? I laugh, "So get up", I tell him.

"What?!" He asks, frowning and his eyes turning sad. Oh no. Not a fall pun. Why is everything puns??? Not everything is puns, Blitz!!!

I put out my hands to hold his but he pulls them away. Fuck.

"Stolas i- I thought you were making a pun. I thought you were being funny", I said. Mistake again.

"You think that me loving you is funny?!" He replies. FUCK.

"NO! I just-AGH!" I stomp away and throw my coffee in a trash can and take a deep breath. Then I take more deep breaths. And more. We've been through this. I can do this differently. I can change.

I turn back and he looks too fucking sad holding himself. I want to hold him. He should be in my arms.

I walk slowly back over to him, he takes a step back and my eyes widen.

"Stolas...I'm sorry. Can we please not misunderstand this again", I plead, reaching out my hand again.

He walks towards me and takes my hand softly, I hold it tight with both of mine and kiss the top.

"I'm an idiot", I start. He nods, I chuckle.

"You're my idiot", he mumbles and I smile, "I am".

"You thought I was joking?" He asks. I nod.

"I wasn't", he looks at me with...fear? He continues, "What...do you think about that?" He asks.

I stay silent a moment. What do I think about that? That you love me?

I think it's amazing, I think there's no one I would rather be with. I think, I love you.

"It's Aight", I smile and he hits my back, "Blitz!"

"Okay okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I put my hands up in defeat. "Stolas we've been dating for two years of course I love you", I tell him, staring up at him. Hoping he can see the adoration in my eyes.

His eyes spurt into hearts, I love it when they do that.

"You do?!" He asks again.

"Of course I do, you silly owl", I pull him close and squeeze him tight.

"Then why didn't you say it?" He asks. "Why didn't you?" I reply. He chuckles, "Touche".

We hug for little while longer then walk back to my apartment. I still had a whole fanfic to read to him of my new horse OC that I made named Mooncake. Named after Stolas, of course. (And the time he made me mooncakes for a solstice).

Stolas loves Mooncake (I knew he would) and we end the night with a Rom com he licked I mean picked, and cuddles (initiated completely by Stolas and not at all by me).

Okay byeeeeeeeeeeee.

[gabriel-xander]

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

20: He's Bouncing on my Booty Cheeks, I Love the Way He Rides

A/N: Ignore the chapter title.

♪────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

ONCE AGAIN, YOU STUMBLE ASS BACKWARDS INTO VICTORY!!!!

You stretch dramatically in the middle of the living room, a happy smile on your face after a week of being in fucking misery.

That’s right, cucks. You’re no longer sick! You felt it start to go away a few days ago, but this morning you felt absolutely perfect!

Sure, there’s your bad back pain, but that’s just par for the course! You think Papyrus had already left this morning considering that A: it’s 10 in the morning and his pattern for the past week told you that 8 out of 10 times he’s already out of the house at this time. And B: It’s strangely quiet, the faint trousle of bones is no longer in the house.

Shame.

You already showered and now you’re dressed and ready to go. Since you don’t want to get sick again like a little bitch, you went with something to fit the theme. A deep purple turtleneck and a black coat on top, simple jeans, and your loyal boots. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work. That being said, you wish you had something a little more cunty that also kept you warm…

You feel like chewing gum…

Anyway, you walk up the stairs and head to Sans’ forbidden zone: aka his room. You don’t know if Sans is awake or even in his room at all. You’re going to ask if he wants to go with you (if he’s even there), if not then you’ll just have to fly solo. You’d rather not deal with monsters trying to fight you, but momma didn’t raise no bitch.

Knock Knock Knock.

You’re busy thinking about how long you should wait until you knock again when the skeleton’s voice unexpectedly comes out the other side.

“who’s there?”

You snort, “Uh…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Interrupting cow.”

“…”

“…”

“…interrupting co-”

“-Moooo.”

There’s a heavy sigh from the other side of the door before it opens. You back up and have enough mind to look away so you don’t get a peek inside his room. It doesn’t really mean anything since you know what it looks like (you’ve seen the fucking lore videos), but you hope it means something to Sans at least.

Sans looks as ready as he always does, though instead of pink gloves today, they’re plain white. Hm, you like the pink ones better.

“that was a bad one.” He says, closing the door behind himself.

You shrug, “It got you out here, didn’t it?”

“your first day free from sickness, and you use this power for evil?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, I know you liked it.”

The skeleton rolls his eye-lights, “anyway, what’s up? you uh, you look like you’re ready to go somewhere.”

“I am. It’s been a week, I’m sure poor Grillby’s been missing my punk ass. If he needs more time to think about it, then fine, but I want an update on my pending application. You wanna come with?” You smile.

“oh, you’re serious about that.”

You cross your arms and pout slightly.

“alright, alright. well, if you’re sure then let’s get going right now.”

You perk right back up, your smile widening as you begin to walk back downstairs. Sans shakes his head and follows close behind, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets. You’re a lot more energetic now, it’s almost endearing if it wasn’t so tiring just to watch. You weren’t like this when you two first met, but then again, you two aren’t exactly honest with each other. Plus he barely knows you, so he doesn’t think it’s fair to judge what you’re “normally like.”

“hey, [y/n].”

You look up at him from the bottom of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“you’re not gonna ask me to ride grillby’s dick for this, are ya?”

“AH-HA HA!! Shut up about that!!”

“it’s gonna be a cold day in the underground ‘til i can forget you saying that to me.”

“But we’re in Snowdin! It’s cold here all the time!”

Sans tilts his head, tapping his chin in false wonder, “hm, can’t say i feel that cold, though. you must be mistaken.”

“Bruh.”

“come on,” Sans slips right by you, “we can’t dick ride from here.”

You follow by his side with an easy grin, “Wait, so we’re dick riding now? I thought you were volunteering.”

“and take on that hottie alone? you gotta be out of your mind.”

“He IS pretty, fine, isn’t he…”

“...oh, you’re serious about that, too.”

“You know what? I don’t appreciate you judging me right now. Isn’t it usually an admirable trait when someone doesn’t give a shit about what another person looks like?”

“i think the lines start getting blurred when it’s getting into monster-fucker territory.”

“Oh, heck no. You know the fuck a monster-fucker is, but not Sugar Daddies or BDSM terms?”

“…”

“…”

Sans and you were just standing at the door, haven’t even left yet because you two are too busy standing around talking. This isn’t the conversation you were hoping to have with the comic, but you suppose that was your first mistake: having hopes. He snorts (somehow) and shakes his head.

“i think this is the type of conversation that should never leave the comfort of these walls. Or our ears.”

You grin, “You mean your spiritual ears?”

“ugh, you get what i mean.” Sans rolls his eye-lights, “c’mon. let’s get goin’ before i get any lazier.”

“Alright, alright. Uh, lady’s first.”

His permanent grin widens while he opens the door, “my, how kind of you.”

What a fucking dork. Why do you always get stuck with the mentally ill ones? First yourself, then Elliot, and now Sans the Skeleton. Thank God you’re, like, kind of normal passing when it counts, like with Toriel. Surely she isn’t aware of how brain-dead you actually are.

The walk to Grillby’s was comfortably silent and kind of amusing. You weren’t talking because there were people out and about and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to keep the conversation PG. What’s even funnier is that you think Sans isn’t talking for the same reason. Should you be ashamed that you’ve tainted the poor man with your ways? Probably, but the unfortunate truth is that you don’t feel ashamed at all.

Arriving at the cozy restaurant, you open the door for Sans and allow him through first. He gives you his thanks because he’s polite sometimes. There are only two people, you supposed it’s “too early;” Red Bird and Ugly Fish were sitting at their usual place at the bar, waving at you in a casual greeting. Grillby is cleaning off one of the tables carefully spraying the table with what looks to be a shimmering cleaning product and rag. Poor guy, he’s stretching his arm far ahead of himself and being careful not to touch anything wet.

“See–!” You suddenly speak up, gesturing vaguely with your hand, “This is something I could be doing for you, Grillby. With me around, never would you have to worry about liquids trying to extinguish your hot ass ever again.”

The poor fire-man jumped at your voice, but as you kept talking, his startlement turned into amusement. He places the items on the table and crosses his arms, waiting for you to finish yapping.

Sans shrugs his shoulders, “i told you she’d insist on it.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You were just saying how you didn’t actually think I was serious.”

“i never said such things.”

“It was implied.”

“not the same thing, dude.”

“Anyway!” Wow, it is way too easy to go back and forth with this man–uh, skeleton. “If you still need time to think about it, don’t worry. I just wanted to know if you got any thoughts or concerns or updates or whatever.”

Grillby shakes his head and walks a little closer, clearing his throat quietly. Wait, why is he–Does he plan on speaking?!

The restaurant is silent, both you and Sans watching the hot man in anticipation. You fiddle nervously with your fingers while the skeleton is leaning slightly forward with his hands in his pockets.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…You’re hired.”

YOOOO!!!!

You and Sans bounce in excitement, unintentionally grabbing each other’s arms like excited children. Grillby rolls his eyes and shakes his head, though you can sense a smile on him anyway. You let go of poor Sans since you don’t think he realized you two got touchy and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

You clear your throat and grin while putting your hands on your hips, “That’s what I like to hear! So, when should I-”

Grillby held up a finger, and you were silenced immediately.

“But…” Grillby speaks softly, his voice is so smooth and soothing, and you may or may not have a voice kink. “I don’t need assistance from Mondays to Wednesdays. Really, Thursdays through Sundays are my busiest. So, I’ll only need you during those days if that’s fine.”

You nod slowly, “You have such a great voice. I’m sorry, I had to say it.”

Sans deadpans, “you can’t keep your thoughts to yourself for, like, ten minutes?”

You shrug and hold up your hands, “My bad, gang.”

Grillby didn’t seem to be bothered. If anything, the fire crackled irregularly for a few seconds before calming down. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he got flustered.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You shake your hands frantically, “In all seriousness, though. That sounds just fine with me. Today’s Wednesday, so I’ll come in tomor-”

“-No, you will start NEXT week. Sans said you wanted to take some time to settle into Snowdin, but you just got here a week ago. So, take a little more time to yourself,” You sense him smiling at you, “It’ll give me time to get you a uniform too, and prepare to have extra hands around here.”

You’re about to protest against that, but Sans speaks up before you can.

“well, aren’t you super considerate, grillbz? hey, since we’re feelin’ nice, maybe think about forgiving my tab?” He winks.

“…”

“…”

“No.”

“meh, had to try.”

“I’m not going to complain about not going to work, but… I dunno, only Thursdays to Sundays aren't gonna be enough for me.” You frown, crossing your arms and putting a hand to your chin, “I don’t consider myself a workaholic, but I like having money. Like, a lot of money. If you need me only for those days, I might find somewhere else for Mondays and Tuesdays.”

Sans winces slightly, “uh… really? didn’t take you for the materialistic type.”

“Hm? I might not act like it, but I love having things, and I love spoiling myself,” You smile in reminiscence of your late partner, Kōrenki, “It didn’t help that I used to have someone who was happy spoiling me, too.”

This is the story you hope they believe. It IS true you love shiny things, but the main reason is because you still fully intend to pay Sans rent. If it turns out you legitimately become the only person with a(n) (stable) income, you’re going to need that money to provide for you three.

Sans’ smile wavers, “so, you’re a material girl, huh?”

MATERIAL GIRLLL 💅🎀✨

It took everything in your fucking body to not say that. It must’ve shown on your face because Sans is giving you the side eye.

“whatever joke you’re about to say, probably don’t say it.”

“Yeah…”

“If you’re looking for more work, I might got you covered.”

You, Sans, and Grillby look back at the bar where Red Bird and Ugly Fish are sitting. Ugly Fish already looks fucking wasted to Hell and back, his head down on the bar while his friend is lazily swishing her liquor in a glass cup. She smiles at you with a wink.

“I know a good place not too far from here, back in Downtown Snowdin. It’s not very popular, but it’s ran by good folks, I think it’ll be good for you,” Red Bird nods at you. “Since you used to live there, you might’ve heard of it?”

You scrunch up your nose with a smile, “Mm… I don’t think so? But I’m open to checking it out. You think the owners would be fine if I only wanted to work two days, though?”

“Ohhh, for sure! The owner is an older one, always looking forward to helping out the locals in whatever way she can. If she knew you just wanted some small, extra work, she’d take you in no problem.” Red Bird nods, “Here, here, lemme write down the directions for ya.”

Your smile widens as you bound towards her, “You–are a saint, thank you so much!”

Sans raises a bone brow, keeping his eye-lights on you, “guess some people live to work, huh grillbz?”

The hot man just shrugs. Guess he’s done talking for today, though Sans is surprised he spoke at all. It’s not like Grillby never talks, but it’s still an unusual occurrence, even to Sans. He watches you patiently until Red Bird hands you a torn napkin with poorly written scribbles that the skeleton knows will be his job to understand what the hell they mean because you have never been to Downtown Snowdin.

A small shop in Downtown Snowdin… Yeah, he thinks he knows where it is. He thinks he’s been there on a past Reset, though it couldn’t have been more than once since they didn’t have anything special that the Shop here couldn’t offer him. Look at you, making him experience new things already and you’ve barely been here at all.

How tiring, actually.

You wave the napkin in the air with a big smile, stopping in front of the comic, “Lookie, lookie! Think we can head there right now?”

“sure, might as well do it now before i get too lazy to take you later,” Sans shrugs, holding his hand out for the napkin, “lemme take a look at it.”

You let Sans take it so he can give it a gander. You wonder if he knows this place, but you suppose you’ll find out in a bit. You look at Grillby while putting your hands on your hips. He mimics your movements and nods at you.

Cheeky man.

“You sure you can take it for this next week? I really don’t mind starting tomorrow.”

Grillby nods at you once again but says nothing. Guess him talking took more effort than anticipated, but you don’t mind it. Maybe you can actually teach him ASL; even if you and he are only using it, you think a way of communication would be nice. Sans nods and clears his throat to get your attention.

“yeah, i know where this is. if we go now, we can get there in… eh, about ten minutes. you ready to head out?”

“Yeah, sure! Let’s get going!”

The goodbyes were short and to the point, no one wanted to get in the way of your eagerness, and you all had a feeling you’d be seeing each other soon anyway. Due to Sans’ kindness, he used a shortcut to skip that bridge so you wouldn’t tweak out again. Though after that, he takes you to another path that you noticed before but didn’t pay any attention to at the time. You knew the Underground had a lot more to it than shown in the game, but now actually going through it in person…

“Gawdamn, this place is huge, dude!”

Sans snorts, “you didn’t think the underground was just a small hole in the ground, didja?”

“…Well, not anymore.”

He simply shakes his head at you, “maybe we can go exploring more another time, then.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that, Sans.”

Taglist:

@lemonboy011

@adriixboo

@fluffyart5000

[shyphonics]

Salad Days, Chapter 8: Tell Me Now, and I Won't Ask Again

(Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter directory

hi hello I'm here and apologizing in advance for the turn this story took because I started having emotions while I was writing it lmao.

I have once again added a few secret songs to the playlist, so go and check that out if you're so inclined :) thank you so much to everyone who's read this. I'm having a time.

Life's an illusion, love is the dream

But I don't know what it is

Everyone's saying things to me

But I know it's okay, okay

Everybody's happy nowadays

Everybody's happy nowadays

~

Rodrick nods to Buck as he finishes loading up his truck, stretching his arms above his head and hopping into the driver’s seat. It’s been just short of a week since he’d last seen you. He sighs, looking at the dashboard, trying to shoo the thoughts of you away. He’d almost broken the night before and opened up his email account, taken a chance and said something, anything to you.

He’d ended up being too scared.

There’s no point.

Besides, he kind of likes his new job. He just drives around all day, does some light physical labor, and the people at the restaurants, or liquor stores, or wherever he is that day, smile and thank him. Tell him he’s a good, fast worker. He’d specifically requested no downtown bars on his route.

Buck had laughed and said I can’t blame ya. We’ll make Tony do it.

The engine roars to life, and he scans through the radio stations until it lands on a good-sounding song. The music is upbeat, with a high, meandering guitar riff.

Life's an illusion

Love is a dream

Life's the illusion

Love is the dream

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulls out of the parking lot. The words of the song prick his ears, and he ignores them, pretending they mean nothing to him as the song fades out.

Then he hears a voice.

An all too familiar voice.

This is 98.7, radio free Port Hanna. Buzzcocks, Singles Going Steady, 1979. Personally, it's in my top five. Sometimes, I just feel like-

Suddenly, he sees flashes of your apartment, the lights above your bed. Your kitchen counter. Your face, so close to his, praising him. You, on top of him. Your soft skin. The smell of your soap, and the tile of your bathroom.

I really, definitely like you.

He switches the station fast, to some lifeless buttrock. He leaves it there. This is… fine. A month or two ago, he might have even liked this song. He sighs, stopping at a red light and looking at the map in his passenger seat. He notices a red line veering off from his uptown stops. He picks up the map. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

That looks like The Strike.

 As he gets closer, glancing down at the map, he realizes it’s not, but it’s close. He drives by, seeing the giant, boarded up window, which somebody has painted we’ll be back, fuckers! on. The front of the building is fenced off. He feels bile rise in his throat.

His delivery is 2 doors down, a liquor store on the corner, Phoenix Liquors. The guy inside is friendly, with red hair and a silver nose ring.

“Oh, hey! Are you my delivery guy?” He sounds excited.

“Y-yeah!” Rodrick stutters.

“Oh, thank god. It’s usually this guy named Terry, and he’s an asshole.” The man laughs.

Rodrick wracks his brain. Terry, Terry…

“Oh! Yeah, Terry’s weird. He has these pictures of, like, women in 80s aerobics clothes in his truck.” Rodrick laughs.

The man cackles, steadying himself with a hand on the counter.

“God, that makes so much sense.” He laughs, “I’m Joey, by the way. You look… really familiar.”

Rodrick panics, feeling sweat start to prick at his hairline.

“I, um, uh…” He pulls his hat down, trying to cover his face.

“You played at The Strike last Friday! That’s it. You’re a drummer, right?”

“No, I…” Rodrick laughs nervously.

“Yeah! You guys were fucking sick as hell! You played ‘Rise Above’! What was your band called again? Löded Diper?.”

“No, no,” Rodrick’s voice falls to a hushed tone, “I mean, yes, but no…”

“Dude. You guys were great. I’m in Put Down, I’d love to play a show with you guys sometime.”

“Really?” Rodrick’s eyes widen, “I- I mean, no I’m kinda… I don’t know when we’ll play again, y’know?”

Joey looks at him in disbelief.

“What? Are you guys doing, like, a weird album release thing? Building hype? Because people loved you. You got a mention in The Eye this week. Alex Garcia, the music reporter, really liked you guys. Which is a big deal. Because he kinda hates everyone.” Joey smiles.

“What?” Rodrick perks up.

“Yeah! You gotta take your chance while you got it, man.”

Rodrick’s mind goes blank. Joey’s eyes are kind, and Rodrick feels like he can trust him.

“I, uh… I kinda…”

Joey cocks his head to the side.

“I kinda messed things up with somebody important.”

“Who?”

“Um, the lead singer of The Shrieks?” Rodrick’s voice sounds small, afraid.

“Oh.” Joey laughs, “Yeah, she doesn’t fuck around. We’re friends though, do you want me to ask about you? Maybe it was just a misunderstanding.”

“No!” Rodrick blurts out, then calms down, “No, no, I… it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I… I should start loading in.” Rodrick sighs, walking away from the counter.

He makes his way back to the truck out front, keeping his head down in case anyone from The Strike is outside.

He comes back to find that Joey has put a doorstop down, and smiles. What a nice guy. Rodrick gets to work, wheeling cases of bottles and cans into the store, stocking them, and starting over. A different song seems to be playing every time he comes back. Joey makes light conversation, and time seems to fly. Before he knows it, he only has one load of cans left. He wheels his dolly through the front door for the last time, loading the final empty shelf with a quirkily-labeled local beer, the can featuring a topless woman riding a dragon. He wheels the dolly back up to the counter.

“Hey, well, even if you don’t play, we should hang out, okay?” Joey smiles, “I’m always here, or at one of the bars. I kinda work everywhere."

Rodrick feels a pang of sadness in his chest, knowing he probably won’t make it out to hang out with Joey.

“Yeah… yeah, we totally should.”

“We’ve been around, like, if you guys wanna know where to tour when you’re ready, we’ve got a whole guide written up. I'll make you a copy."

Rodrick might as well have been slamming his head against the wall, like the idiot that he was. This guy is offering him tour advice, and he knows he’s not going to take it.

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

Joey holds his hand out for a high five, and Rodrick meets him halfway, smiling nervously. He freezes in the doorway as he hears your voice once more, low and stable over the store speakers.

Sorry for all the sap today, folks. It’s just one of those days.

Joey flashes him a sympathetic look, that he doesn’t stick around to see.

He makes his way back out to his truck, grabbing a copy of The Eye from a box outside. He sits in the driver's seat for a minute, bonking his head against the steering wheel. What is he doing? This is what he’s wanted, as long as he can remember, and he’s throwing it away, because…?

Because he’s a bad person.

He sits up, looking at himself in the rear view.

He’d forgotten to remind himself of that today.

Bad. Bad.

He stares into his own dark brown eyes, starting the truck and driving off, towards the other end of town. He can’t let himself forget. He did this to himself. No one else. It was him.

~

Tonight you’re mine completely

You give your love so sweetly

Tonight the light of love is in your eyes

But will you love me tomorrow?

~

It’s been a week since you saw Rodrick. Your radio plays are a little spiteful today, you’ll admit. All songs of scorn, or longing, and maybe a small part of you hopes that Rodrick is listening.

This is stupid. You’re strong. You should’ve forgotten him, written him off by now.

But you can’t.

Some part of you is still hoping he’ll call and apologize, have some magic excuse for leaving you hanging for a week. It doesn’t even have to be a good excuse. You really just want to hear his voice.

You hate that you’re so desperate to hear his voice.

You spin in your desk chair as a commercial break plays, a man yelling about discount tires. You’re tempted- so tempted- to send him another email. One with harsh words. One that will hurt him, maybe stick with him forever. You want him to feel just as bad as you do right now.

Something tells you this isn’t just him being a dumb guy, though.

Something tells you that something much bigger is at play.

You instinctively take the mic as the commercial break ends, your mind unfocused, running on pure routine. You barely even hear the words you say.

“98.7, radio free Port Hanna. Listen up, folks. Repairs are delayed. The city sent the fire marshal after us, and we’re on cable control duty until they say we’re good to go. I’m sure you can imagine the nightmare that guy walked into- power strips as far as the eye can see. But the window will be back tomorrow. Why don’t you come up and drive past us sometime?”

You sigh, preparing to hit play on your next pick.

“Stay strong, folks. You never know when the man is out to get’cha.”

The next song plays, and you stare into the grainy little screen of your cell phone. Then just like that, it's ringing. An unknown number. Your eyes nearly jump out of your skull.

You do have a rule with unknown numbers, though. You always let them talk first.

You answer the phone, bringing it to your ear, and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping against all hope that it's Rodrick.

The voice on the line is familiar, but in a way that makes your blood run cold. There's no way… it can't be.

It sounds like your dad. He's laughing, in a smug, awful tone.

“We found you,” he says, the laughter coming to a halt, “We finally found you.”

Your jaw drops, and your hands shake as you hang up as fast as you possibly can, the phone falling out of your hand and onto the floor.

No way. No fucking way. He's bluffing.

Then you remember… you were on TV last week. There's a good chance that news piece made it back to your hometown. You put your head in your hands, cursing yourself. Shit! Free access to what you look like and where you work got broadcasted straight to the man you've been trying to hide from for nearly 6 years. You don't know how much he's capable of on his own, but you should clearly be cautious if he found your fucking phone number.

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind, you'd just been so angry about what happened. Part of you had hoped he just wouldn't care anymore.

You check the clock. You're on air for another hour, and then it's straight to the bar for more work on repairs. You cross the studio and double check the lock on the door. Checking the window, you see that the parking lot is as empty as it should be on a day like this.

Cautiously, you pick your phone up and see several new texts.

You ungrateful brat.

You thought you could hide? You think you're smarter than us?

You're still sick. You need help.

I'll be waiting outside of that horrible bar to collect you and bring you home.

Your hands shake so hard, you can barely read what he's sent. You feel your breaths coming fast and ragged, trying to come up with any plan at all.

You have one beam of hope left. You hadn't said anything on the phone. He may know where you work, and what you look like, but he doesn't know for a fact that this is your phone.

You unlock the studio, rushing downstairs and giving the receptionist a frightened look.

“Bonnie…?”

She smiles, looking up from her knitting.

Bonnie is a woman who proudly describes herself as “funky.” She's in her mid 70s, and she dresses like she's in a Deee-Lite video. Her orange hair is tied back in a floral scarf, her eyes are lined in bright turquoise, and her lipstick is a jarring shade of coral. You smile back. She's one of the sweetest people you've ever met.

There is a reason that she's trusted to man the front door, though.

Bonnie doesn't take shit from anyone.

Not a lot of people know about your past, but you have had a few late night talks with Bonnie in the studio, and she knows your dad is not a man you want to see.

“Can you do me a huge favor?” You smile sheepishly, clasping your hands together to keep them from shaking.

She nods, putting the knitting aside, “Oh, please! I'm so bored.”

You laugh, despite the situation, and take your cell phone out of your pocket.

“Well, I'm getting these harassing phone calls,” You start, frowning down at the little screen.

“From who?” She looks devastated.

“My, um… my dad. Remember how I said he's kind of a bad guy?”

She nods fiercely.

“He found me, and he called me, but he never heard my voice, so he doesn't know for sure that it's me.” You frown down at the phone, then look back up at her, “Bonnie, will you record a voicemail message on my phone?”

She leans back and laughs, nodding and reaching her hand out for the phone.

“Oh, this will be fun!” Her tone is devious.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

You burst into laughter the second she’s done.

“That’s perfect.” You grin as she hands you your phone back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.” She winks.

You make a mental note to bring her flowers or something on your next shift.

She picks up her needles and waves as you go back up to the studio. Songs are still playing from your CD queue, and you decide to call Mike before commercial.

“Perfect timing, kid,” he answers, “You ready to check 28 power strips?”

You sigh.

“Mike… is there a car parked outside the bar? One that looks out of place, maybe? A white BMW?”

You're not sure if your dad is still driving his stupid vanity car, but you wouldn't doubt it.

You hear his footsteps.

“Yup, white BMW. Yuck. Why? Are you psychic? Have you been hiding that from me this whole time? Do you know how useful that would've been?”

A laugh almost escapes, but the dread of the situation is just too consuming.

“That's my dad. I don't know if you remember, but-”

“Your dad?” Mike's tone is hushed, panicked, “The one who-”

“Yes!” You interrupt, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying not to let any stray memories come in.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” You hear Mike pacing.

“He found me, I don't know. I have to assume he saw me on the news last week and tracked me down. I thought he would've stopped caring by this point!” You lean against the wall, hand on your chest, in some effort to comfort yourself.

“Should I go out there and say something?” Mike asks, “I’ll make something up! Tell him we forgot to paint the curb red.”

“He already knows I work there, Mike. There’s no point. He said he'd wait at the bar to ‘collect’ me.” You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Collect you?” Mike scoffs, “You’re a fucking adult!”

You sniffle, shaking your head, your voice starting to break, “What if he's got a court order or something? What if he can collect me, Mike?”

Mike is quiet.

“You're right. Don't come in, lay low. Finish your shift, and then go home.”

“Should I go home?” You feel yourself unraveling completely, your heart beating fast, your eyes twitching, “What if he knows where I live?”

“I'm watching his car. I'll let you know if the fucker moves. Just keep your door locked, and let me know if you need anything.”

You nod, wiping your eyes, “Thanks, Mike. I'm… I'm so sorry.”

“He should be fucking sorry. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hang up, collapsing into the rolling chair just in time to play a commercial break. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find you. He wasn’t supposed to give a shit anymore. You turn the playback volume as high as you can handle, trying to get him out of your head. Trying not to remember.

You feel like a zombie for the rest of your shift, finishing out your queue and waiting for Nick to come in for his shift.

You hear the doorknob rattling behind you and spin around, your eyes wide in fear. Nick puts his hands up in surrender.

You let him in, sighing in relief.

“Hey, paranoid, what's gotten into you?” He smiles, hanging up his jacket. His face drops when he looks at you.

“My dad is here. He's at the bar waiting for me.” Your voice comes out small, pitiful. You hold your elbows, slouching over.

“Your dad? Oh, fuck,” He whispers, “What are you going to do?”

“Run and hide,” you shrug, “Wouldn't be the first time.”

You grab your stuff and turn to face him, forcing an uneasy smile.

He sits in the chair, putting the headphones around his neck, and returns your uneasy look.

“Well, if you need help, you know where to find me."

"I know."

~

My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed

Dried up and bulging out my skull

My mouth is dry, my face is numb

Fucked up and spun out in my room

On my own, here we go

~

Rodrick sits in his usual stool at Jimmy's, a mug of beer in his hand, staring down at the bar. The top is smooth, clear plastic, with ads and business cards slipped underneath. Used cars, chiropractors, nail salons, and so many little concert fliers.

Most seem to be for smaller country, tribute, or solo acts, people that play in places like this.

Currently, a man sits in the corner with an electric guitar, playing a simple riff, with no rhythm to be found. His off-key crooning makes Rodrick want to cover his ears, but the guys from the plant are watching him closely, cheering him on.

He hates it here.

He opens his copy of The Eye, flipping through to the music section.

Hey, Friday Night's Alright for Fighting, Too

by Alex Garcia

A brawl broke out last Friday at The Strike, just a day before the vandalism took place. I personally think that the raw power of all 5 bands was too much for the local frat boys to handle, and their little brains just straight-up exploded.

Newcomers Löded Diper burst onto the the scene for the first time. Ignore their name, and go see them as soon as you can. With a powerful rhythm section, and a palpable friendship between the members, these guys are definitely one to watch. The chemistry was off the charts.

Dammit. That's a good review. That's a really good review. Rodrick leans forward, his elbow on the bar, his head in his hand.

The bartender is the same one as usual, Caitlin. She's about his age, with flat ironed hair and an eyebrow ring.

“This sucks.” She slumps down on her elbows in front of him.

“I know,” he shakes his head, taking a long drink of his beer. He feels a slight smile on his face. At least someone gets it.

“I'm going to this tonight,” She points down at the counter, to a small, square flier advertising a show at one of the bars downtown, Dime Store. His heart sinks, remembering that you'd said he could probably get a show there. “You wanna come with?”

He looks up. She's smiling sweetly, with one of her eyebrows raised. Is she… flirting with him? Rodrick swallows hard, his mouth falling open, but no words come out.

Caitlin is pretty, and nice, and tough as hell for working in a horrible place like this.

He can't say he's interested in her, though. She's not you. He's still thinking about you, even if he's accepted that he's completely ruined his chance.

Not to mention, he can't show his face down there, even if he was interested.

“I…” he looks down, “I can't, I'm sorry. I'm really busy.”

He looks up, sheepish, knowing that was a shitty lie.

Caitlin looks disappointed.

“Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. I get it.” She stands up straight, grabbing a rag and wiping down the empty side of the bar.

Rodrick lets his head fall with a thunk. Dumbass.

“Y'know, if you have a girlfriend or something, you can just say it. It's better than some lame ‘I’m busy’ bullshit.” She looks down at him, mocking him with a deep, dopey voice as she repeats his words.

He picks his head up, eyes still down towards the bar, focusing on an ad for a dog groomer. The picture is old and warped, and the dog looks like some sort of monster.

“I don't have a girlfriend, I just…” He sighs.

“Oh, you like someone.” She teases.

“Sure, you could say that.”

“And you screwed it up, because you're a dumb guy?” She laughs, but her face is sympathetic when he looks at her.

He nods. That’s a pretty good way to put it.

“You should call her or something, it can't be that bad.” She comes back to stand in front of him.

“It's that bad. I'm that bad. I'm a bad guy.” He sulks.

“You? C’mon,” She laughs, “You’re not a bad guy. You're the only one of these assholes who's actually nice to me.”

Rodrick turns to look at his horrible coworkers. Buck is singing with the guitar guy. They’re doing a Creed song. Fucking Creed. Buck is crying. He rolls his eyes, turning back to Caitlin.

“Yeah, they’re pretty fucking horrible. I don’t mean that I’m mean, though. Like, I’m not rude or anything. More like… sometimes I think I was just born bad. I do bad things, and I don’t even realize they’re bad. Or that I’m doing them! I try my best, but I just spread… badness. Everywhere I go. I’m a bad person.” He shrinks back in the barstool.

Caitlin gives him a look of absolute pity. It makes him want to disappear.

“Jesus. What the hell did you do to this girl to make you think that?” She laughs softly, shaking her head.

“I got into a stupid fight with a stupid asshole at her bar, and the stupid asshole went and vandalized the bar, so it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even given him a second look.”

“How… exactly is what happened to The Strike your fault?” She looks unimpressed, “Sure, bar fights are fucking stupid, but did you start the fight? Or did he?”

“Well,” Rodrick thinks back, “He pushed me, I pushed him, he sucker punched me in the face.”

“Buddy,” Caitlin laughs, “That is not your fault.”

“But…” Rodrick looks down, “You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when it happened, and when she figured out it was the guy who punched me who did it.”

“How did she look at you? Show me.”

“Like… like…” Rodrick frowns, and shakes his head, doing his best impression, trying to match the rage that had been in your eyes. Caitlin covers her mouth as she laughs.

“Okay, that just looks generally pissed off. Did she say anything?”

“She said,” Rodrick thinks, “She… she said… ‘don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault, I’m just pissed off’.”

Caitlin looks at Rodrick like he is the dumbest man in the world.

“...what?” Rodrick asks quietly, after a moment of silence.

“She said it’s not your fault!”

“She didn’t mean it, it’s totally my fault.” Rodrick groans.

“She would’ve told you if it were your fault. So, what you’re telling me is, this girl had her workplace vandalized and a guy she presumably liked completely stop talking to her on the same day?”

“See?” Rodrick blurts out, “Even if the bar wasn’t my fault, that’s not good either! Either way, I suck!”

“Do you know what you can do about that?” Caitlin gets closer to him, smiling.

Rodrick is quiet.

“Call her!” She enunciates carefully.

Rodrick stutters, starting and abandoning several sentences, finally landing on, “I can’t.”

Caitlin rolls her eyes.

“She probably doesn’t even like me anymore! She probably just wanted it to be a one night stand after all! She was probably just being nice when she said she wanted to see me again! She’s, like, hardcore!”

Caitlin’s eyes go wide.

“One night stand?! Rodrick!”

“What?!”

“You slept with her?” She yells.

The music stops. Rodrick’s coworkers all look at him, and start hooting and hollering as they always do.

Yeah, alright, Ricky! Atta boy!

Rodrick puts his head down in shame.

Caitlin lowers her head, whispering.

“Okay, dude, I do not think you’re a bad guy, but you seriously need to call this girl. Like, right now.”

“I… I don’t have her number.” He admits.

Caitlin puts her face in her hands, rubbing her temples.

“You can not be serious! Okay,” Caitlin flips her phone open, “I have everybody’s numbers, what’s her name?”

She scrolls through her contact list, and fuck. There you are. Caitlin keeps an iron grip on his arm as he dials, and he takes deep breaths as it rings.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

Rodrick stares, dumbfounded, at the phone.

“She didn't answer?” Caitlin releases his arm, leaning over the bar.

“It was… an old lady's voicemail.”

She looks at him, confused. He dials again, this time putting it on speakerphone.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

“She changed her number.” Rodrick murmurs, looking down.

“No, no,” Caitlin looks at her own phone, her eyebrows hitched in worry, “I met her, like, 2 years ago, she's probably just changed it since then. Or I took it down wrong!”

Rodrick crumples onto the bar, groaning.

Caitlin grimaces, putting a tentative hand on his back.

“Hey, hey. This doesn't mean anything.”

“It means fucking everything,” his mouth pulls into a frown, “It means she hates me.”

It's quiet for a while. Caitlin slowly takes her hand off his back, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Well,” she finally says, “Come out with me, then.”

He lifts his head.

“As friends! Just as friends.” She clarifies, waving her hands, “C'mon, I'm off in 20 minutes. Let's have a good time at a bar for once.”

He looks at her for a while, before finally agreeing.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

~

You don’t want me anymore

So I just walk right out that door

Played a game right from the start

I trust you, you use me, now my heart’s torn apart

So I'm sailin’, yeah I'm sailin’ on

I'm movin’, yeah I'm movin’ on

Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on

~

Your cell phone rings once again, and you debate snapping it right in half. You sit, curled on your couch, staring at it in fear. This is a new number. Probably your mom's phone. You consider yourself lucky that Bonnie had been there to help you out. The message will at least throw them off your scent a little.

You've received one text from Mike, ugly car is at Motel 6 on Coal Ave.

That's a relief, at least.

You feel like you're going crazy.

A thunderstorm rages outside your apartment, and you're suddenly hating how many windows you have inside. The entire outside-facing wall is essentially just one big window. Every time lightning strikes, you find yourself thinking, that's it. He saw me.

Yet, when you check the window, nobody unusual is parked on the street below.

You're struck with a passing thought as a clap of thunder rattles your windows.

What if…?

No way.

Why would Rodrick call now?

You carefully pick up your phone, looking at 2 missed calls. You'd bet good money on that being your mom's cell phone, or even your dad having a backup number.

You'd really like to hear from Rodrick, though. Now more than ever.

As pathetic as that may be.

You take a deep breath. If you don't talk, nobody will know it's you.

You dial. It rings for what seems like forever.

I'm sorry, but the person you have dialed has a voicemail box that hasn't been-

You hang up quickly. Dammit. Now you have no idea.

You eye your laptop for a second before opening it.

Rodrick hasn't emailed you. You decide to send another one to him.

Not to hurt him. Not to destroy him. Just to see.

~

From: worldsbestbartender@aol.com

To: bigrod@plainviewcommunitycollege.edu, lodeddiperrawks@aol.com

Subject: Did you call me?

Rodrick.

Are you calling me? I assume the ship has sailed and I don't know why you would be. Dick move, by the way.

Let me know if that was you who called me twice in a row tonight and I'll answer. I can't answer mystery numbers right now. I don't want to explain and you probably don't care anyway.

Just please let me know.

~

You drop your head as you hit send.

You doubt he'll answer. You doubt it was him.

But the chance is enough to make you wonder.

Enough to make you miss him.

You know he wouldn't have some grand plan to save you from this situation, but that's not what you need, anyway. You have a feeling that Rodrick’s form of support would just be sitting on the couch with you until you could fix things yourself.

That's what you need.

You stare at your inbox for a while, refreshing over and over, feeling more helpless. You wonder where he is. If he's even thought about you once.

You feel so weak.

You feel so angry.

No person should make you feel like this. You're better than this.

A knock at your door scares you within an inch of your life, and you cover your mouth to stifle any sound you might make. You creep towards the door, peeking through the peephole.

It’s Nick, with his hands shoved in his jacket pocket. You open the door and let him in.

“Hey,” He closes the door behind him, locking the deadbolt, “Any word?”

“Nothing. I got 2 calls, but it might be… someone else.”

He eyes you strangely, then takes his hands out of his pockets.

“I had this crazy idea,” He reveals what he’s got to you.

2 plane tickets from the nearby regional airport to LAX. You take them, staring up at him in disbelief.

“It’s crazy, I know,” He scratches the back of his head, “I just thought, if you’re gonna run, you might as well go far, far away. Somewhere exciting.”

You keep your eyes on him, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“And I’d wanna go with you.”

“What? Like, run away together?” You hand him the tickets back.

He looks at the floor.

“Look. Ever since I met you, I…”

“Don’t, Nick. I know you feel bad for me, but don’t say anything you don’t mean, okay?”

You walk to your couch, sitting with your hands in your lap.

“I mean it,” He appears in front of you. He looks so sincere, “I love you. In whatever way you want me to.”

You don’t really know what you feel for Nick. He’s been there, with you, since the beginning, but…

Do you love him? As a friend, maybe. You decide to shelve those feelings for now.

“I can’t leave, Nick.”

His face drops when you don’t respond to his confession.

“I have too many things here worth fighting for. I can’t leave. Plus, who’s to say my dad can’t find me wherever I go? I have to stay here and fix this.” You look out the window as another flash of lightning strikes.

Nick looks at you for a long time, head down, shoulders slouched. He finally speaks.

“Just think about it, okay?”

(tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @stargurl-01)

[churchofhiggsconfessions]

I uh...I know the vote is still on going for goldenbridges but...here!

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

Sam shifted around on the bed. Cold sweat sticking his hair to his forehead and the shirt to his back. Slight tremors ran through him near constantly making it almost impossible to lie still.

Just a fever. That's what Deadman had said when he came to check up on Sam earlier. Just a fever. Easy for him to say when he wasn't the one lying there feeling weak and burning up, sweating in places he didn't even know was possible. He hoped the medication he'd been given kicked in soon. At least enough so he could finally fall asleep.

"Now what do we have here?"

Sam's eyes snap open at the oh so familiar voice that now filled the room. Higgs was standing at the end of the bed, hands on hips. A golden aura seemed to surround him. Even his eyes seemed brighter, more predatory. Sam tries to sit up but both his wrists are now somehow cuffed to the bed rail. He feebly pulls at them but it's no use, they don't budge an inch. Even if he had been at full strength it would still be pointless, they were designed to be unbreakable.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Sam rasps out. Higgs shifts his weight a little, unclipping the golden skull mask to sit it on the table.

"You tell me Sammy, this is your damn fever dream". He folds his arms across his chest, giving Sam a look as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"How can I be dreaming if I haven't fallen asleep?" Sam frowns, trying to ignore his slightly chattering teeth and piece together what the fuck was going on.

"How could I be here during the day with that weird dead gu-"

"-Deadman". Sam interupts defensively. Higgs sighs before continuing.

"Yeah yeah, same thing. Whatever. But as I was saying, how could I be here when they are checking up on you constantly right now? How else could I cuff you without you knowing it? Think about it sweetheart. Fever dream, nothing else to it".

Sam hates to admit it but Higgs was making a whole lot of sense. Not that he planned on saying it out loud any time soon.

"Besides, just because you're having a random ass dream doesn't mean we can't have a little fun".

Sam starts getting a tad more nervous as Higgs smirks, climbing onto the end of the bed. Crawling languidly up over Sam like a lion stalking on the Serengeti. He swallows thickly as Higgs is now straddles him, fingers lightly teasing up and down his torso.

"You'll end up getting sick too". His voice is a little quieter than usual, tender almost. Higgs leans down close to whisper in his ear. "Just a dream Sammy, I ain't gonna catch your germs". His tongue darts out to lick up Sam's neck and jaw. "Huh, fever sweat tastes different. Who knew?"

"Stop". Sam whispers, breathing a little ragged as Higgs starts slowly rocking their hips together.

"Make me", he smirks. "Oh wait, ya can't!"

Sam opens his mouth to argue but Higgs silences his with a single finger placed on his lips.

"Shh Sam, I'm just trying to make ya feel better". Higgs rocks his hips a little faster, leaning down to kiss him. Sam feels like he's burning up again and no longer because of the fever. Higgs' lips trails down over his jaw to his neck, teeth nipping playfully at the sensitive skin, sucking harshly on that same spot, determined to leave some kind of a mark. If this was the kind of fever dreams he had then Sam wanted to be sick more often.

"Let me take care of you, please". Higgs pants in his ear. Sam looks unsure for a moment, then again none of this was real so what did it matter if anything happened? Sam bucks his hips up as much as he could.

"Do it".

Higgs kisses him harshly on the lips before pulling back with a look of glee.

"You won't regret this!" Higgs shimmies himself back a little, enough to give him room to "work". He then shifts Sam's clothing to free his long thick member. Higgs licks across his fingers, making a little show of it before wrapping them them tightly around Sam's shaft.

"You'll forgive me if I ain't too keen on getting a mouthful of sweat. I know I don't usually give a shit but you ain't usually shit like this either". He starts to slowly pump him up and down, enjoying the way Sam's eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open slightly.

"Thought this was my dream?"

Higgs picks up the pace, thumb flicking over the swollen shiny tip.

"Sure is but unfortunately for you this ain't a lucid dream, so shut up and enjoy what ya get".

Sam smiles a little, finally relaxing into Higgs' touch. He must be dreaming if Higgs had been right twice.

A raspy whimper leaves Sam as he feels Higgs kitten licking his tip, teasingly suckling on it as his hand works him faster. His hips attempt to rut up on their own but Higgs easily holds them down with his free hand.

"Patience Sammy". Using his elbow to now hold down Sam's hips, he brings his free hand across to cup Sam's balls, squeezing and playing with them, encouraging Sam to let go into his waiting mouth. He spits on the hand working Sam, starting to pump more quickly.

"Higgs..." Sam hisses out, trying to give him some warning of what was about to happen. Higgs suckles harder, hand working Sam a fast as he could. With a soft groan Sam cums into Higgs mouth, body feeling a lot more lax than it has done the last few days.

Sam opens his eyes to find Higgs completely gone. He sits up in bed only to realise his wrists aren't cuffed anymore, clothing still in place. His cuff still closed around his left wrist, light blink merrily in the dim room where it always is. Wow...he really must have been dreaming. At least he wasn't shivering anymore, still felt a bit like death though. Sam gets out of bed, stumbling over to the small sink to splash some cool water on his face when something in the mirror caught his eye. There was a darkening red bruise forming on his neck where he had dreamt Higgs lips had been...

Well, damn! 😩😩😩😩😩 I mean, you're not wrong we haven't started officially including goldenbridges content but I'm willing to make an exception for this!!

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #105

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

He's gonna be Frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

“The Frank Program is sponsored by HelpYourself. HelpYourself is founded on the belief that everyone deserves therapy, and that it should be affordable for all. No need for insurance - just download the app and your first psycho… psycho… what does that say?” Frank showed the script to Big Mike.

“It says, ‘psychoanalysis.’ Can you even read, man?”

“Yeah, o’course I can read! There’s two vowels in a row, it’s confusin’! Now stop interrupting.” Frank cleared his throat. “All ya gotta do is, download the app and your first psycho-analysis is free with promo code FRANKPRO2024. Share your experience with therapy.”

“Uh…” Mike leaned over. “Pretty sure that part is instructions for you. You aren’t supposed to read it.”

“I know that! I said that because I wanted to ‘boost engagement.’”

“Sure you did.”

“Hmm…” Frank tapped his fingers on the table. “My experience with therapy… do ya think physical therapy counts?”

“No.”

“Well I never got none of that, neither, so I guess it don’t matter. My ex-wife always used to tell me I needed therapy for my anger issues…”

“She was right, you jackass.”

“Shut the hell, up, Mike!” Frank groaned. “How about I just make something up, huh? Like I tell a story about how therapy saved my life or some crap?”

“What, like you got locked in a looney bin?”

“Not a fucking looney bin! For fuck’s sake, Mike.”

“Hey, hey, no shame in it. Half the girls I’ve dated have been to one of those places. They’re packed with babes.”

“I’m not gonna tell everyone I’m nuts just to make the sponsor happy. You wanna do it, go right ahead.”

“I actually have been to therapy, Frank.”

“No shit? What for?”

“Like many folks our age, I grew up not treating my mental health with the concern it deserved. My dad and I didn’t talk about feelings, and my mom was too busy with my older sister and my younger brother. I was the loud one, but I was never heard.”

“That’s deep, man.”

“I’ve been a professional radio host for the last decade. I know what I’m doing. Anyway…” Mike paused to make it easier to cut down. “So when I moved out at eighteen, I was a complete disaster. I couldn’t hold down a job. Roommates always got sick of me. My relationships never lasted.”

“Probably ‘cause you kept dating psychos, Mikey.”

Big Mike ignored that comment and continued. “When I finally got a therapist and opened up to her, it was like I was clearing out the garbage from the back seat of my pickup truck. And you find the craziest junk buried in there, like fast food toys from when you were seven.”

“Really?”

“It’s a metaphor, Frankie. You gotta clear out the garbage in the back of your head so you can fit more people into your life.” Mike took the paper from Frank’s hand. “And that’s why we suggest HelpYourself, the easy way to get the help you need. Download the app today, and don’t forget that promo code FRANKPRO2024 for your free consultation and first psychoanalysis. That’s HelpYourself on the app store. And now back to The Frank Program.” Mike stopped the recording. “See, that’s how you do it.”

“I appreciate the help an’ all, but shouldn’t I say the last part?”

“What, ‘cause your name is in it?”

“Well… yeah.”

Mike waved his hand. “We’ll get it on the next one and cut it together.”

“How many we got left?”

“Seven. Today, anyway.”

“Ugh.” Frank rubbed his face and took the next paper from the table as Mike started up a new recording. “The Frank Program is sponsored by GrapeCrate, the first word in weekly fruit boxes sent right to your door…”

[bettyweir]

Betty Weir

Chapter 3

Betty Weir and Erica Jones both got into the cheer team, and hang out at the mall together!

Word Count: 2.9k

[Previous] [Read on Ao3] [All]

Benny raises his hand in class.

"Yes, Benny?" The tired teacher sighs.

"Could I go to the bathroom?" he sheepishly asks, ignoring the question written on the board.

She sighs again, "Yes, yeah, just hurry up."

"Thanks." He picks up the flimsy boy hallpass and rushes out the door.

Did he really have to use the restroom? No, not at all. Benny had something much more important in mind.

He arrives at the gym doors, trying not to be spotted by the practicing class inside. The cheerleading team tryout results are posted on the board. His finger slowly moves down the page as he scans the list of names. Nice Erica got in As he gets closer and closer to the bottom of the list, his heart starts to sink.

Please. please please please please.

His finger stops at the final name, Betty Weir. He taps the page triumphantly, a huge smile spreading across her face.

She reads the last little blurb on the page: First Practice Today after school.

She steps away from the paper and fidgets the blue hallpass in her hands as she heads back to class.

Today's a new day.

As the class packs their things, ready for the school bell to ring, Ethan nudges Benny.

"Hey, wanna play Nights of Ninjitu Four at my place?"

"Oh, I'd love to. But…"

"I promise I won't kick your butt too hard this time, come on!" Ethan offers, "You can even ban my main."

"Oof, that does sound really nice, but I already have plans." Benny looks around the room, avoiding Ethan's gaze.

Thankfully, the school bell rings.

"Aww, okay. Well, feel free to stop by later, if you want!" Ethan shouts, adjusting his backpack and heading into the crowd.

"Later, E!" He waves, hoping Ethan will see his hand over the masses of students.

He joins in the crowd to wiggle his way to the bathroom. He doesn't bother being sneaky since no one is ever in here this late.

At least, that's what he thought. As he heads into a stall, he sees Rory fumbling out of another.

"Shit, shit, shit! I'm gonna miss the bus!" He hisses as he furiously scrubs his hands in the sink.

"Rory, you can fly."

"Yeah, but I like my bus driver!" He frowns, ripping the papertowel dispenser several times, before rushing into the hall.

Benny shakes his head and laughs to himself over the interaction as he changes.

As Betty enters the gymnasium, she sees small groups of cheerleaders sitting around in the bleachers, mingling while they wait for their first cheer practice to start. Erica is sitting off to the side lines of the groups, and waves down Betty as soon as she sees her.

"Ohmygod, holy shit!" Erica smiles, "I'm so glad you got in!"

"Me too! I can't believe it." Betty genuinely didn't use a single magic trick this time, it was all her. She couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "We'll get to cheer together!"

"Augh, you're too cute." Erica gushes. She stands up and starts stretching her legs.

"Sooo, have you been in any sports before this?"

"Cheerleading's a sport. Ha." Betty catches the looks around her and quiets up, "Ah, I mean, it's totally a sport! But anyway, um, not really. I'm just a home body. What about you?"

Betty starts to join in on Erica's stretch routine, putting her hands on her hips so she can stretch her back.

"Ah, yeah, cheer's my first sport too," Erica says, then she makes a little smirk, "You just seemed a bit like you would've been a soft ball player."

"Huh? How?" Benny shoots up.

"Never mind." she shakes her head and looks over to their new coach.

"Congratulation ladies, every single one of you got in." the coach announces, "Pat yourself on the back."

Betty twists her arms behind her to reach her back, and Erica stops her.

"And now, I want you to all change, and do a lap around the track in the field."

The team groans.

"Told ya we'd need to stretch." Erica smiles to Betty.

"Uhuh. Well, I'm gonna head outside to start on that track, or do you want me to, uh, wait?"

"No, go ahead. I'll be right out."

Erica follows the rest of the girls into the changing room and leads herself far back into the curtains, before speeding out of the gym with vampiric super speed. Betty feels a gust of wind hit her skin as Erica stops right next to her.

"AHH!!" Betty jumps, but relaxes when she turns around to see Erica, "Oh. Hey, Erica. That was quick."

"Thank you."

They both wait for the coach to open the fenced gate to the field before starting into a light jog next to each other.

"So, what do you think about the running?"

"OOuuhgh." groans Betty.

"You know, if track gives you trouble, I know how to cheat it."

"Wait, really?" Betty says between gasps, "That'd be awesome!"

"Alright. But not now."

"Wha-" she pants, "Why?"

"Because Ms. Malanchie is staring right at us." Erica says, jogging slightly faster. "Next time."

"Ahh! Wait up!" Betty quickly follows behind her.

The group of girls slowly gather in a circle at the end after finishing their lap. Some girls continue stretching while others go on their phone.

Erica, remembering something, pipes up, "Oh, hey! Do you have any socials?"

"Oh, what do you mean?"

"Hello? It's the twenty-tens!" she laughs, "MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Insta, Tumblr? Doesn't that ring a bell?"

"Yeah," Betty scratches her neck, "But I don't have anything like that. Um, you know how homeschooling is."

"Yea, I guess you'd only be friends with, like, your Grandma and your neighbors or something, haha."

"Yeah haha, totally only for losers."

Meanwhile, on Benny's desktop computer at home, it displays his Myspace profile and his only friends: Ethan, Rory, and Grandma.

"Wellll, now you have me!" Erica nudges, "And I'd totally give you a shoutout! You'll get tons of friends!"

"Awe, who would even wanna follow me?" Betty twirls her hair.

"Come on! Your a hot cheerleader that's single." Erica raises her brow a bit, hoping for a reaction.

"God, how can you tell I'm single? Am I just that bitchless?"

Erica laughs.

"Well, I think with some luck, you wouldn't be."

The coach blares her whistle.

"Alright, girls! Let's go over the basic routine."

As they get dismissed from practice, the herd of cheerleaders head to the locker room.

"So, Betty…" Erica says as she puts on a black leather jacket, "Would you maybe wanna head to the mall?"

Betty grips her messenger bag tighter. Part of her wonders if this is supposed to be a date, but come on. This is probably just like, a normal girl thing.

"Uhm… I guess so."

"Ooh, great! I've been wanting to go with someone!" Erica cheers.

Betty relaxes. Nothing to worry about. This is totally just a Normal Girl Thing.

"Yeah, for sure."

Erica and Betty arrive at the Whitechapel mall.

"Okay, so, uhm, where do you wanna go first?" Erica asks walking in.

They walk past a couple of stores with displays of mannequins in form-fitting clothes. Betty feels a shiver run down her spine.

"Uhh, anything besides clothing stores."

"Awe, why?" Erica asks.

"I just find it all very," she gulps, "boring?"

"Alright, for sure. Hmm." Erica eyes the black store blasting out shitty emo music, "How about Hot Topic?"

"Uh, I don't think I've ever been there before."

"OMG, it's gonna rock your preppy little world." she says entering, proudly standing in front of a display of anime tshirts, "Okay, well, don't mind these."

She leads Betty towards the back, into the corner where the large display of band tees are.

"OMG they got so many Single Tear Tshirts!!" She squeals digging into a pile of graphic band tees, "Have you heard of them?"

"Uh… nope."

"No way…" Erica couldn't believe it, "I'll have to play you some of their song some time then, for now, help me find some shirts."

Betty helps Erica dig through the piles of folded shirts to find every Single Tear design they could.

"Hmm. Do you think I'd look better in the red, or black?"

She holds each Single Tear tee with just a differently colored background to her chest.

"Hmm… red." Betty answers.

"Ooh, cool. I've always felt like it was my color. And it's by one get one free, so let me know if you find something you like."

Betty and Erica slowly walk around the small store, looking up and down the rows of shelves. Betty finds a small minecraft creeper charm hanging off a necklace.

"Whoa. Wait, look at this." Betty points.

"A minecraft necklace?"

"Hey, it's cute, okay?" Betty looks over at her with pleading puppy eyes. "Pleasseee."

"Ack, okay weirdo. It's free anyways."

Walking over to the till, Betty peeks at the the expensive candy options.

"Just these, please." Erica says to the person working at the counter.

"Alright… 23.14, please." the bored, emo cashier says.

Erica hands over her plastic card, "And yes, I do have a phone number."

Betty looks over at the piles of pins and shoves her hands in it. It felt nice.

"Alright lets go." Erica says, with a Hot Topic bag in her hand. Betty takes her hands out of the pin pile and follows behind her.

They walk past the Gap and Gamestop, the two G's Betty remembers going to all the time with her grandma. She feels like such a dork.

"Could we grab something to eat?"

"Yeah, we can head by the food court." Erica shrugs.

They enter the modest food court, five chain restaurants meet them on each side.

"How about Pizza Hut?" Suggest Betty.

"Nah, I'm good." Erica says, still looking at her options. "I think I'll get taco bell."

"Oh, wait! Taco Bell also sounds good!" Betty mentally slaps herself. Pizza hut? What was she thinking? That was such a Benny thing to say. They wait in the short line together.

"So, what do you want? I'll pay." Erica asks.

"Aww, thanks. You don't have to."

"No, no. Don't worry about it," Erica bumps her, "If I can't get you some clothes I can at least get you something to eat."

Betty looks down at her frumpy shoes to hide her blush. I really should get a nicer pair.

"Hello, welcome to Taco Bell. How can I help you?" The employee asks.

"Yeah, I'll have a beefy burrito and…" Erica trails off and looks at Betty.

"…And a number 1 combo with… a Baha Blast, please." Betty adds.

"Anything else?"

Erica looks over to Betty again, who quickly shakes her head no.

"Nah. We're good."

"8.50."

Erica digs though her bag and pulls out a small black wallet with silver details.

She hands over a crisp 10 dollar bill.

"Keep the change."

They shuffle out of the line for the next customers and wait on the side for their order.

"Cheerleading really worked up your appetite, ay?" Erica grins.

"Ah, I guess so. Was it too much?"

"Nah, not at all," Erica nudges, "Nothing wrong with having an appetite."

"Ah, thanks." Betty responds. She looks down at herself. It feels so odd being in public like this. Even if its behind a wig and preppy clothes, she wasn't sure how she felt about being seen by so many people.

"Food's ready," Erica snaps her out of her thoughts, "I'll get it. Wanna seat?"

"Yeah, thanks." she replies, rubbing her cold arms nervously as she sat down. It feels weird not being in at least a T-shirt.

"Of course! Now eat up, I wanna hit up at least one more store before they close."

As Betty unwraps her first taco Erica snaps a pic with flash.

"Augh jeez what was that for?" Betty says flinching and wiping her eyes.

"Your new Instagram obviously."

"When did I sign up for that?"

"Now" Erica says with a toothy smile. "Pull out your phone."

"Can I just eat?" Betty says, with the uneaten taco in hand.

"Yeah yeah go ahead I got it." Erica says grabbing Betty's phone to go on the Istore.

After a minute or two of downloading Erica pipes up "What do you want your handle to be?"

"Like. Username?" Betty questions.

"Yea." Erica says pushing the register screen towards Betty.

"Hmm how about uh. Betty Cheer?" She shrugs.

"Lame, you sound like a bot." she says punching it in. "Taken."

"Uhhh, Betty Ultimate Cheer?"

Erica quickly taps in the new, even lamer, username. "Not taken, cool."

"Nice." Betty says in between bites.

"Alright well I'll let you customize your profile how u want but," She says giving back Betty's phone and quickly typing on her own phone. "I'm shouting you out rn."

"Mrmr, can I see what it is before you send it?"

"Of courseee." Erica finishes up and holds her phone in front of Betty's face.

A picture of a shocked Betty holding a taco in one hand with the caption:

Check out the newest cheerleader on the Whitechaple cheer team @Betty_Ultimate_Cheer!! #Cheer #Cheerleader #NewBestie #GalPals #MallPic #Friends

"Can I post this?" She pleads to Betty.

"Augh alright sure whatever," She takes a sip from her large soda, cleaning up her area. "Only cuz' you bought me food."

As the girls throw away their trash, they stumble upon a DVD store.

"Hey Betty, wanna look inside?"

"Oh, sure!" she replies, eyeing The Dark Night Rises poster excitedly, "Are there any movies you're excited for?"

"OMG, I don't know if you're a Dusker, but I cannot wait for the fourth movie to come out on DVD!!"

"Wasn't that a total bomb at the box office?" Betty jokes.

"Ugh yeah It was," Erica shakes her head, "But some people just don't have any taste."

Betty scoffs. The two carefully look up and down the rows of DVDs available to rent.

"Ohmygod, haha! Erica, look!" Betty pulls Erica to the side. "But I'm A Cheerleader, just like us!"

Erica quickly grows flustered, she tucks some hair behind her ear.

"…Really?" she smiles.

"Yeah! I mean, we're both cheerleaders, right?" she says, not really getting it.

"Have you not seen But I'm A Cheerleader before?" Erica asks.

"No?" Betty raises an eyebrow, "Should I?"

Erica plucks the DVD out of her hands and brings it straight to the counter.

"I'd like to rent this DVD please."

"How long?"

"Just the weekend would be great."

"Aw, thanks Erica," Betty twist her hair, "I can't wait to watch it."

"That's great! Would you wanna watch it at my place, then?"

Bettys eyes grow wide, shocked.

"Um. Uh, today?"

"I mean, if you want to," Erica smiles at Betty while she hands the clerk her credit card, "But we have all weekend."

"Ah, okay. Awesome."

"Does tomorrow sound better?"

The clerk rolls their eyes at the cheerleaders interactions, and hands Erica her receipt.

"Yes!" Betty sighs with relief, "I mean, I just got out of cheer and I'd like to change and shower first, haha. You get it."

"Of course you do." Erica grabs the DVD from the counter and yawns.

"Oh man, are you getting sleepy? Because I sure am, haha. Wanna head home?"

"Mine, or yours?" she smirks.

"Um, our own houses." she bites on her thumb.

"Alright, alright. I got you, I'll call a cab."

They quickly walk though a JCPenny, past the perfumes, bed displays and poorly made clothes and exit the mall.

Erica leans on the side of the store wall and audible dialing noises are heard.

"Thanks Erica." Betty peeps, twiddling with her thumbs, a bit to anxious to read the miss messages she has on her phone.

Betty is reminded of the minecraft merch she got, "Could I get my necklace?"

"Hi, I'm at the Whitechaple mall," Erica pulls her phone away from her ear, "Yeah here just take the bag."

"Sorry about that, we're just out of JCPenny's. Uh huh, yeah thank you." Erica stuffs her phone away in her jacket "It'll be a few minutes."

Erica catches Betty struggling to clip the small C clasp behind her neck.

"Here I got it." Erica offers.

"Oh, haha thanks." Betty hands over the creeper necklace.

Erica places the charm in front of betty and pulls back the metal chains around her neck, carefully pulling her hair to each side and clipping the clasp behind her.

"There you go." Erica smiles, putting Betty's hair back into place.

"Wow thank you," she beams, "How do I look?"

"Amazing."

A bright yellow taxicab pulls up next to the girls.

"Thank you Erica, for everything… This was really fun."

"It's no problem, softy. Just text me when you get home alright?"

"For sure," Betty says, scooting up to the cab driver. "So my house is at…"

Erica closes the door for her, and waves as the car drives off.

<hr>

Betty arrives home and quickly heads to the back door. Grandma should be asleep by this time but she didn't wanna take any chances. She tip toes though the kitchen and into the first story bathroom to change.

Back to plain old Benny.

Before he stuffs the wig in his bag, he takes out his neon green phone.

Missed Calls from: Grandma(4), Ethan(1)

Two New Messages from: Erica_Jonez, Xx_RORY_VMPR_xX

Woah woah woah, wait Rory?

Benny stops in his tracks and tries to read the previews.

Hey Betty! I cannot blive ur- Wanna meet u-

She hessitates to open them, instead clicking on Erica's.

Had a blast w/ you today, hope your not dead lol.

Betty shakily responds "I'm not dead but I feel like im about 2 be."

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.l.

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

_______________

~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” Waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh… What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. Faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” She stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate in sight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” Taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm… If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now… What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” He turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. Various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them… Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoth's home.”

Of course it is. “Oh… Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” Other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” His voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. “Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days.” Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them…”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” She hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” He nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoth's got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

[freightnumb1182]

Log #1 // Date: Fuck-If-I-Know 5016U

G'day, this is Miss Kassady C'phom contacting you about... uh... contacting whoever manages to get yer grubby little paws on it would be closer I s'pose, anyway, both Ick and big man are advisin' I log shit (on account of 'em givina fuck about me). Now, I ain't exactly sure what they expect me of all people to log in a journal, my feelins n shit? Oh yeah here we go, dear fucken' diary, that type of shit I reckon. Nah, nah, here's the angle, I'm fillin' this shit up with my pointless fuckin ramblins so if they really want me to go through with this they need ta fucken go through readin' all this pointless shit I'm throwin' in for free! But nah, I get their angle, 'specially after the incident with ol' Eggy boy, trauma from all that shook up the rest of the bogans I'm workin' with now, no doubt. Wish both of yas were there, bot was a dog's breakfast, really should've seen the bloke!

Prolly should bring up how's livin' been, could be worse but a little bit more time and she'll be apples, no doubt, the 4 of us (and our mechs) are bunkin' in a hanger in a big smoke on a little planet called Bo. Bow? Beau? Doesn't matter, don't care, nice place if you ignore the nanomachines tearin' the place to shreds, been givin' it a burl with what we got though (it ain't much, was split enough to make a bloody gymnest cry). Got yer gift too, cheers for that!

There is

one

teeny

tiny

issue, however. The ankle biter, don't remember the name of the bloke but the one who looks like an old man? 'Bout yea high? Whatever, you know who he is, he's getting in good company with You-Know-Who, the big H. Gonna try to keep an eye on the mate, no prommies though, he's never around for long enough for us to actually chat, I don't think I've hardly even interacted with the bruce, let alone talked to him. Ah well.

Back to livin' before I forget and go on a tangent about unimportant shit, weather feels chilly? No clue when it is but feels like it's closin' in on cold season, if it ain't already in cold season.

Reckon that's about it though, hope you get this and if anyone else does, NO YOU FUCKEN DIDN'T. Goin' to leave both of ya's with a haiku I've been workin' on. Small hobby I've gotten since the incident, not to cope, s'just fun.

Gigantic metallic bug, my one true friend throughout life, can I borrow money?

[heavenlyhandscribbles]

Why do I keep thinking (of you)?

Eddie Munson x Male Reader Warnings: Mutual masturbation, drug usage, cursing, poorly written crush confessions because I'm lazy.

Summary: Y/N cliche gay denier + Eddie Munson high and horny = Mutual Masturbation

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hi this is technically a kinktober prompt fulfillment, but let's ignore that i'm late and just enjoy.

The bitter smell of green filled the air in Eddie’s room as he and Y/N passed the bong, his eyes hazy and half-lidded as he looked at Eddie lighting the lighter, lifting the bowl as the smoke fluttered up the chamber. Watching as his chapped lips tucked into the bong to inhale, his eyes closed and soft and he imagined waking up to the same closed eyes and then he realized this weed was making him think shit he shouldn’t be thinking so he sat back and hummed to the music Eddie has put on. Eddie started humming too, exhaling as he did before muttering, “What else do you wanna do?”

All Y/N could think over and over was ‘You, You, You, You.’ And he realized maybe that was not a good answer so he responded instead with, “I don’t know, I’m kinda wanting to get off.”

Eddie shrugged, “Wanna just fucking get off here then? I got a nudey magazine.” He murmured, reaching under the bed and tossing it at him, “This strand’s meant to get ya horny anyways.”

He nodded. Shuddered. This felt like it was okay, but it still felt wrong. Felt bizarre. Like maybe he shouldn’t be saying yes and the reasonable answer, something he heard his father say, “Fucking a man will just make you a fucking sissy.” 

He looked at him softly, “Uh sure, can I use your bathroom?”

“Nah just do it here, I kinda want to anyway.”

Y/N vividly remembers Tommy Hagan telling him something he and Steve used to do. Mutual masturbation was what he called it. He turned, “there’s this thing maybe we could do?”

Eddie glanced up at him, not judging. That didn’t feel right. He should be uncomfortable too, right? Eddie told him most of the rumors about him in the town were true, but he assumed that negated the rumor that he was a poof. He sat back, muttering slowly, “It’s called mutual masturbation, we uhm- get each other off.” 

Eddie nodded, not put off. He almost looked.. Giddy. It didn’t exactly put Y/N off either. He sat back, his hands shifting as he looked at him with an almost confused gaze. First steps. Eddie was quick to shift the sweats he’d worn usually when Y/N came over to smoke, and on instinct Y/N looked away; shame.

Eddie reached out, glancing at him as he asked softly, “Can I?” His hand hovered over his belt, waiting for him to give a go ahead. His chest.. Felt warm- almost tight at that. He nodded, “Yeah.” He shifted, providing access just for him. Eddie undid his belt with shocking ease, tugging on it to get it loosened and nimbly undoing the buttons on his jeans. Y/N remembers- somewhere in the back of his mind- that some fantasy of his played out too much like this. Nimble, thin fingers, calloused thumb pad, shiny rings, tugging at the button of his jeans, but he figures he can investigate that later, after this, after he goes home. Eddie was quick to tug his jeans down a bit, muttering lowly, “Uhm- do you want to do it ourselves or..”

“We can do each other.” Blurted, stupid stupid stupid. Looks needy now, like he is too eager, shouldn’t be acting like this because it will only hurt them both. 

Eddie nodded, muttering teasingly, “Alright sailor, don’t get your panties in a wad.” He referenced his outfit from when he worked with Steve at scoops ahoy, flustering a bit, “Yeah well don’t cream your pants at the sight of my panties okay?”

Eddie shudders, and for one moment Y/N thinks he’s gone against his request and creamed his pants at the sight of Y/N’s thoroughly soaked boxers. His hands are deft to tug down his boxers, freeing him as he let out a low groan at the sudden cool air hitting his tip. He thinks maybe this is it. If he dies here he’s okay with that- because he’s finally gotten what he wanted and- oh.. He wanted this. He’s wanted this for months. He’s wanted this since he and Steve dragged a limp Eddie through the portal from hell. And he thinks maybe this was stupid because he might fall in love. But he realizes he probably already has. He shook his head out a bit, thoughts empty and going a little bit stupid and big eyed as Eddie began to tug at his cock, suddenly remembering what he was doing there. He was quick to deftly tug off Eddie’s boxers, the return of the favor. His hands weren’t comfortable so he held his palm up, muttering lightly, softly even, “Spit.”

Eddie’s eyes widened a bit, before he nodded, spitting into his palm as asked as Y/N shifted his hand down, using the saliva to lube up his cock as he pumped it eagerly, eliciting a groan from Eddie beside him. He could swear he tasted the airy breath of heaven on his tongue at the sound. It was lewd, and filthy, and fucking pleasuring, the sight of his throat bobbing up… he wanted to lick a stripe up that throat. So he did. A stripe, all the way up Eddie’s throat, his teeth digging into his jaw as he ended the sloppy trail up his pale flesh. Eddie paused, his body twitching as he bucked into his hand, his own quickening to help give him the pleasure he wanted to give Y/N. Y/N’s eyes softened, his other hand reaching up and across his body, gripping Eddie’s chin and… kissing him. Kissing him with fever, passion and adoration, and something else all together. And Eddie- Eddie kissed back. He kissed him back without any sort of readable doubt. And Y/N thinks that maybe this is it. This is what he wanted, forever. He wanted this late night, high and happy and a little bit tired. He let out a shallow groan, his cock twitching in Eddie’s hand and he’s pretty close to cumming. He quickened his own hand pausing when he heard Eddie’s soft voice, “Hey- fuck- I’m really close.”

Y/N nodded, agreement, as he murmured out, “I am too.” He groaned, his cock pushing up as he looked at him with a softened gaze. Eddie looked so good- almost happy as he continued pumping him, murmuring lowly against the air between Y/N and him, “gonna cum?” A quick nod and a low groan and that was it, his hips rolling as he came against Eddie’s tight fist and his own quickened hand filled with the same sticky mess that was in Eddie’s. A breath, a sigh and Eddie, reaching over for a tissue for them both before they settled back. Y/N sighed, his eyes closing as he murmured, “I- I think I like you?”

Eddie stiffened, glancing at him, “What?”

Shit. “I think I like you.”

“Oh. That’s convenient, I like you too.” He looked at him, smiling fondly as he leaned forward again, kissing him, and with a pass of breath, muttering out, “Wanna finish up with the bong?”

Eddie nods, and leaned into him, passing it over with a hazy hum, content and a softer feeling filling the room. Y/N turned to him fully, his eyes serious despite the puff of smoke spilling out from his nose, “Wait so uhm- what does this mean.”

“Do you want to be together?” Eddie asked and almost looked scared to hear the answer.

“Yes.” Y/N nodded, surely, “But I don’t think I know what to do or how this works.”

Eddie let out a barking laugh, his hair bouncing and framing his face as he chuckled, “I figured, that’s okay, I’m willing to help?”

Y/N offered a gentle nod and a soft spoken murmur, “Yeah- yeah I’d like that.”

Eddie grumbled, grabbing the bong from him with a scoff, “quit hogging just cause you’re all lovesick alright?”

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