#so... hopefully you don't mind my garbage

[heartlightheartbright]

Hey! Thanks for your patience while I'm being a bit slow! I'll be trying to catch up a bit in the next few days and tossing up offers to get some more starters on the way, too. So many mutuals, so little time!

In the meantime, for those of you who'd prefer context on what's going on, there's a read more for that. If you'd prefer just to stick with rp and not worry, hey, no worries! Just don't click.

Uh, tw: explosions. And attempted murder, I guess.

Someone asked me why I got back into rp and I responded "well the building I was in got blown up". So anyway, the joke was that it wasn't a joke.

It just didn't get blown up as much as was perhaps initially intended. I also wasn't part of the group of people the perp was trying to kill- he just...didn't necessarily care that a bunch of innocents were there.

I was unfortunately pretty close to the blast when it went off. I'm physically fine, as is everyone else who was there. No one was seriously injured. It's just meant things have been messy thanks to...being right there, lol. Add the whole #trauma thing to the whole deal and I've admittedly had some stuff to deal with.

The situation at the moment gets quiet for a few weeks and then picks back up, so I can't even really say when it'll be over. Knowing the legal system, maybe I'll be lucky enough to see the end of it in like... two years.

So, please bear with me. Some days are better than others. There's a whole lot more good days than bad, but I'm still taking life a day at a time right now. This blog is genuinely a place I intend to keep fun and light-hearted, but if I go quiet for a few days, this is undoubtedly part of the reason why.

[uniquexusposts]

A one-day friend - O. Piastri

Summary: Y/n and Oscar sit next to each other on a flight and get to know each other. Note: I know Oscar probably flies business or first class, but for the story he doesn't.

A small smile curved on Y/n her mouth when she looked out of the airplane window. She was leaving Europa behind. After a month of travelling through Germany, France, Switzerland and Italy, it was time to go home. Y/n was glad she finally could go home, but this trip made her realise how much she wanted to move to Europe, being free and away from home.

It was sunny outside, there were no clouds. Usually, Y/n flew on the worse times: in the night and in the bad weather. This was one of the first times she was able to have a look at the tiny countries. While looking at the view she got, her mind stopped working - in the right way. She finally cleared her mind. There was nothing she was thinking of. It was like meditating.

The entertainment system of the airplane was insanely good. There were a lot of films Y/n was planning on seeing but didn't have the chance to because...reasons. She was glad she had the time and was being able to watch the films now.

When the first film came to an end, Y/n planned on catching up with work. Her fingers touched the touch screen to look up the flight details. She tightened her jaw when her airplane neighbour was touching her arm. I get it, we don't have much space, but you are in my aura right now. Before she knew it, the head of her neighbour was softly falling on her shoulder. Y/n gently moved her head to see what exactly was going on. The man was asleep. Great. She closed her eyes and sighed, annoyed. 

There was an option to wake him up, but Y/n didn't want to. Maybe something was going on with him, and perhaps this was the first moment he could sleep? Or maybe he had anxiety? Or he just broke up? Or he was just tired? Y/n opened her eyes and looked at the screen again. She was being kind and let him sleep. Four more hours to go and a fantastic entertainment system. The option work wasn't an option anymore.

"Good evening, this is your captain speaking. In less than 20 minutes we will be arriving at Dubai International Airport. It is currently 21:45 and 30º degree celsius. On behalf of Emirates and the crew, thank you for flying Emirates, and hopefully, we will see you soon again," the captain spoke after a few hours.

Y/n stretched her legs and breathed deeply but gently in. The man was still sleeping with his head on her shoulder. It gave her two thoughts: he was a stranger, this was odd, and it wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. The cabin crew were walking through the plane to get all the garbage and inform the people to straighten their seats. The friendly steward asked if Y/n could wake up her partner. What partner?

She did what she was being asked and nudged the side of the man with her elbow. The man looked up, and his eyes widened. "We are about to land," she awkwardly smiled and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Oh," he mumbled and looked confused around. "Thank you. And I'm sorry," he apologised. "Have I been asleep for the whole flight?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry," the man said again.

Y/n looked at him. "It's alright," she told him. The look in her eyes was warm and friendly. The man felt sorry he might have made her flight uncomfortable. "They...erm...gave me the snacks. So..." She gave the man the two cups of water and some crackers.

"Right, thanks."

Maybe the best part of this flight was for the man, he was the one who got his sleep. Y/n, on the other hand... Sitting at the window seat is fantastic because you can look outside, but when having strangers next to you who are asleep...not ideal. Especially when you need to go to the bathroom. For those six hours, it was slightly subtle. But for the next flight, it would be hell. Why am I so helpful to people?

The plane landed safely and smoothly at Dubai International Airport. It was already dark and warm, but that didn't matter to Y/n. She needed to go to her transfer flight on the other side of the massive airport. There were two hours left to the next departure. Y/n was glad she could finally walk and stretch her legs properly. It was late in the evening, so there weren't many people around the airport anymore. She didn't mind, within 30 min she was at the right gate. It gave her the time to look around at the duty-free stores. It was the same as the airports in Europe, so there weren't many new things to see.

Even though it wasn't new, Y/n found a manner to almost miss her flight. And you know when you are a national embarrassment when they have you call your name through the speakers of the airport. But she wasn't the only one, more people were invited. Y/n made her way to the gate and showed her ticket.

"You are right on time, Miss Y/l/n," the Qantas Airline employee said.

Y/n politely smiled and walked towards the airplane. Fourteen more hours to and we are reaching the next destination: Melbourne. She ran her hand through her hair and stepped into the aircraft. The friendly crew welcomed Y/n and guided her to her seat.

"Thanks," Y/n thanked the woman and smiled.

Window seat, again.

She looked at the people who were sitting next to her. A woman and a man, but one of them was the man who slept next to her on the flight to Dubai. Her eyes widened, and she parted her lips. They both stood up to let Y/n take place on her own seat.

"Well, this is awkward," the man said and looked at Y/n. Y/n fastened her seatbelt and made herself comfortable for how comfortable an economy seat could be. "Next time, just wake me up."

What are the coincidences this is actually happening?

"I will," Y/n shortly said.

"I'm Oscar," the man introduced himself and stuck out his hand.

"Y/n." She grabbed his hand and softly squeezed in it.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n."

He was polite. "Nice to meet you too, Oscar." 

--

"This is actually the first time I have seen this film," Oscar said when 'Bohemian Rhapsody' ended.

Y/n raised her eyebrows and looked surprised at him. "You serious?" Oscar slowly nodded. "You seriously have something missed during those years. I'm glad I made you watch it."

The fourteen-hour flight was surprisingly good and fun. Oscar was a kind man, after all. They talked a bit and watched a few films together. Y/n wasn't able to sleep, she couldn't sleep on the plane, and Oscar already had his sleep from the previous flight.

Oscar smirked. "You got me," he said and stretched his arms above his head. "Four more hours to go." Y/n took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm going for a walk. Maybe you should go too."

He was right; having a walk through the plane - it probably wasn't more than 150 metres if you walked to the back of the plane and back, but it was a walk to stretch the legs on this long flight. Oscar asked the unknown woman, who was sitting on his other side if she could stand up. Oscar and Y/n got up and walked to the back of the plane.

"This is just so awkward," Y/n said. "All those people who are looking at you, yikes."

Oscar smirked and looked behind him at Y/n. "You must do something for it, Y/n."

When they arrived at the back of the plane, Y/n had no idea what she saw. There was a small bar, there were bowls filled with fruit and biscuits. She looked at Oscar, and a happy smile grew on her lips.

"See, the back of the planes are the best. Not many people know this, but this is for us, the economy section. This is another reason why you should go for a walk in the plan: drinks and food," he told her and grabbed an apple and a biscuit.

"Wow, what an invention. Brilliant," Y/n spoke and grabbed an apple as well. It felt good to walk around. Sitting on an airplane seat for several hours was awful; the little space, the many people in your aura and not being able to stretch your legs as you want to. "I will keep this in my mind. I seriously had no idea this actually was on a plane."

"Perks of a frequent flyer," he winked.

"I am too," she smirked. "But I had no idea."

"Oh."

The last four hours went by, and they landed safely on the Australian ground again. Y/n was glad she wasn't alone after all. Flying with someone on your side is a lot better than flying alone. They had talked a lot about regular stuff, like politics, the news and that kind of stuff. They left the plane and walked both towards the exit of the airport.

Y/n read the signs on the board and looked around. "I have to go to my next flight," she mentioned Oscar and stopped walking. His smile softened and looked disappointed at her. It was almost sad to see him like that like he hoped Y/n would go to Melbourne as well. "So..."

"Where do you have to go?" He asked curiously.

"Sydney," she answered and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Thanks for the great company, it absolutely made it all better," she smiled.

He nodded and gave her a small smile, he surely was disappointed to leave her behind. "Give me your phone." He had to deal with this situation quickly, as the intercom called for the flight was about to board to Sydney. Y/n squeezed her eyebrows together and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. "I really enjoyed this flight, I wish every flight was just as joyful as this one. Text me when you are home, okay?"

Is this his smooth way for asking my number? To keep in touch with me? "I will."

Y/n put her phone back in her pocket and gave him a warm but exhausted smile. An hour and thirty more hours to go, and she was home. People from their flight passed them, some were annoyed, some were happy to arrive at their home base.

"I really have to go," she said and slowly walked away. "Thanks again!"

Oscar parted his lips and knew he needed to say something. "You can 'accidentally' miss your flight so I can take you out on a coffee!"

Y/n looked at him and lowered her eyebrows while a cheeky smile curved on her lips. "Safe trip home, Oscar," she chuckled.

"It was worth a shot," Oscar said loudly and pointed at her. It made her laugh. "Have a good flight, Y/n!" He showed one of his best smiles and winked.

Y/n bit her lip and turned around while she walked away. A small smile played on her lips. It was just a friend on the plane. Sometimes you have friends for a short time because you are in the same situation. This is a situation like that. But this oddly felt more than just a friend.

No Y/n, just a one day-friend, great company on the flight, maybe a little bit too much coincidence, but a one day-friend.

Her eyes fell on the dark airport. There were lights of a landing plane, the runway and...and the ugly self-reflection of herself in the windows. A sigh left her mouth, and she went to the gate of her last flight.

[disneyprincemuke]

for the girls * fem!driver

she isn't worrying about being on track for the first time - she worries about the media.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, f1 grid x reader

warnings: literally a piece of garbage, SO inaccurate, no idea what i’m doing…

notes: this is sOOO BAD PLS I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIs man

also, please feel free to send it some scenarios for this series! you can send them in here freeflow~ none of these will be posted in chronological order so don’t worry about it

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"here is sebastian vettel's personal addition to the grid, (y/n)," the interviewer grins, turning to face the girl. "welcome to the 2023 formula 1 season. thank you for coming in."

"thank you for having me," she smiles, hands clasped together in front of her. she's been following sebastian around all day - she doesn't want to be left alone in such a tough crowd.

"how does it feel to be the first woman in formula 1 in almost 2 decades?"

"i'm very thankful for the opportunity given to me to achieve this spot on the grid. i hope i'll be good enough to create a difference and be the stepping stone towards more women in the sport," she answers cordially, moving her arms slightly.

interviews, unfortunately, were also a very big part of the job. she didn't really mind it, but she knew the controversy of her being in the sport, and it's been driving her insane since the pre-season testing.

"and of course congratulations on your move from formula 2 to the main league. how do you feel about the doubters or naysayers who are saying you don't belong here?"

"i think it's unfair to assume my placement in the season before it has even started. i have worked as hard as everybody else to get where i am today, so i'm just really hoping that the fact that i am a woman does not overshadow all my achievements."

she's seen all that's said about her. the news articles, the videos criticising sebastian's choice to vouch for her, and the comments under her posts and announcements - it's very disheartening.

sebastian has tried his best to tell her otherwise, telling her time and time again that he wouldn't have vouched for her if he didn't think she had the potential to be here.

"and how are you getting along with everybody else on the grid?"

"very good. i mean, we've already been acquainted for years and that really helped me out a lot," she laughs, locking eyes with sebastian doing an interview right next to her. "but it is still a competitive sport. it's going to be a climb out there from my starting position at 18th. hopefully it will be a good race."

"of course, good luck out there."

"thank you so much."

"just like we talked about. you'll be fine," sebastian folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the wall.

she's pulling the sleeves of her race suit over her shoulders. "why don't i believe you," she mutters, looking down at her shoes to avoid his eyes. "think about what the media would say if i don't finish in the points today."

"who cares about what the media has to say? just do your best out there today," sebastian repeats, patting her shoulder lightly to get her attention.

he flashes her a grin when she looks up, only to have her roll her eyes as she zips up. "me. i have to face the interviewers later, remember? not you."

"just race like you always have. you're doing this for yourself. not the media, not the insecure guys hiding behind a screen, and definitely not the interviewers." he grabs her shoulders, shaking her just slightly to lighten up the mood. "i'll be in your ears to help you out, okay?"

she sighs, leaning slightly to the side to grab her balaclava off the table. "promise to tell me when i'm being reckless?"

"i'm your race engineer. i've got you."

he turns her around, towards the track where the cars have lined up. "get out there and shut them all up. you're doing this for the girls, remember that."

"right. for the girls," she huffs, wiping her hands on her race suit. she takes the helmet that sebastian is holding out to her and gives him a smile. "okay. i'll talk to you through the radio."

and she does everything she has to do. she’s in the race car, anticipating the formation lap that’s about to start.

days leading up to this moment, she didn’t think she would be so nervous to be behind a wheel. she doesn’t typically let the feeling get to her so much.

but it’s different now that it’s being broadcasted to the entire world. she’s now watched by ten times her normal viewership.

“radio check,” sebastian’s voice comes into her ears. his voice has become a significant point to calming her down behind the wheel. you would be surprised how well he can calm her down just by his voice.

“copy.” she breathes into the mic unknowingly as she exhales, looking up and taking in her view.

her car was surrounded by the engineers, making the final touches on the car and triple checking all the components.

within a few seconds, she can see the sky as they disperse — the sun is shining bright and there are barely any clouds. to her right is yuki, also looking around the grid and the grandstand.

she locks eyes with him as he looks around, her eyes crinkling at the corners to acknowledge him. he returns the gesture with a smile through his eyes then a thumbs up to wish her luck.

she lifts her hand above the halo and returns the thumbs up.

“okay, the first car has taken off for the lap. i’ll check in on you again in a while.”

her grip on the steering wheel is tight despite the engine being turned off. she’s proud of herself for making it through her first race in the league, even parking the car neatly in parc ferme.

“you did amazing.”

“you’re only saying that. i didn’t even finish in the points,” she answers dejectedly, rolling her eyes to herself.

sebastian tries to make light of every situation, even if the normal person would not be able to find that in a frustrating position. but he was also a rookie once. the least he could do is empathise and try to make this experience less daunting for her.

he’s investing in her — her talent is impeccable, but he has to make sure that he fosters and encourages her into the best version of herself. the racer that he knows she is, she just needed someone to actively believe in her.

“the climb from p18 to p11 is good progress. the season just started, kid. the only way is up.”

“sure,” she chuckles. “i’m getting out of the car. see you in a bit, seb.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)

[viridian-dagger]

That You Are - 1

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x OC

Rating: Explicit/Mature - 18+ only! Minors DNI

Warnings: sex worker!oc, age gap!, non-explicit discussions of sexual assault and a physical assault, vague descriptions of sex work and injuries, Langdon is straight up mean to her, other people judge her for her line of work, some insults, Abbot is highkey a simp for her, mention of Abbot being a widower. This fic is in part inspired by Pretty Woman which will become more relevant later. Smut in later chapters to come 💕

✨ this is a companion to Residuals by @eureka-its-zico but can be read on its own. Jenn's character Dr. Fullerton is featured in this ✨

word count: 5.3k

Author's Note: listen. i didn't intend to write this but Jenn got in my head and now here we are. i don't think this will be too many chapters, but it also was never supposed to be more than a one-shot so we see how that turned out. lmk your thoughts and if you want to be on the taglist 🖤

-----

She hates the way she can’t force herself to leave the waiting room. The only doctor she’s ever seen there who didn’t treat her like garbage was part of the night shift, and she’s pretty sure that he's long since gone. All she can do now is hope it’s not him who gets saddled with her. He has a way of making her feel worse than a client ever could.

But her face hurts, and she can’t bring herself to stumble back out onto the street without the pill. She knows too many girls who lost everything relying on birth control alone — she won’t let that be her.

Hopefully the nurses won’t ask too many questions, or the doctor believes her when she says the bruises are a few days old; she knows they look bad. She isn’t immune to the stares she’s been getting for the last few hours; mothers with disdain in their eyes as they shield their children’s gaze, the leering stares from men, the pitying looks from girls who think they know the fear she’s been living through. In a way, she's grateful for them. They think she’s just another party girl who trusted the wrong guy on a night out, and in a way they’re right. But while this would be the worst night of their lives, for her it’s just another day late she’ll be on rent.

So she ignores the looks, ignores the pain radiating from underneath her skin, ignores the way her pleasers dig into her toes and have long since gone numb, ignores the black dots that dance in the edges of her vision, and focuses on her rapidly dying phone battery and the crooning in her headphone that she wishes could tune out the man complaining to anyone who would listen about his treatment thus far, or lack thereof.

“Kat Thomas?” The intake nurse calls out, eyes scanning over the waiting room teeming with people, all suffering in different ways. She tries not to flinch at the pity in the intake nurse’s gaze when they make eye contact; she knows she’s seen this nurse before, and her stomach drops. She knows he is an inevitability now — she knows she’s a fool for hoping to see someone else, anyone else. 

She holds her head high as she walks toward the doors and the ER nurse who's waiting for her and away from prying eyes, but the click of her heels on the linoleum draws eyes like flame draws a moth, and she regrets ever sitting in the far corner. By the time she reaches the door, a hush has settled on the waiting room and she can feel the discontent stirring.

“So you’ll take some junkie whore but you won’t see me?” A man calls out, and the rage in his voice makes her toe catch on the waxed linoleum. She can see in perfect detail in her mind the way she’s going to be sent sprawling on the floor when her ankle wavers the same moment the nausea hits. But hands under her elbows stop her descent before it can begin.

The ER nurse who caught her has curly brown hair and a softness in his eyes she doesn’t see on many people; he knows what she is, but he doesn’t care. In fact, there’s something she can almost recognize as rage in his eyes when he looks away from her, eyes locking on someone behind her — undoubtedly the man who just called her a whore for all of Pittsburgh to hear — before they slide back to meet her gaze. 

“Do you need a wheelchair?” He asks, voice soft. The words die in her throat as she shakes her head before straightening out and pulling her limbs from his grasp. He withdraws without a fight, the small smile on his mouth unwavering as she steps away, toward another nurse standing at the door who wears another tight smile trying to hide pity, and she retreats into the all too familiar bustle of the emergency department.

She can hear his voice again, hard and stern, when the door closes, but the words are muffled by both the plexiglass and the chaos of it all that’s been kept out of view by the waiting room. She wonders if people would complain so much if they could see just how busy it is back here as she follows the nurse back to a room, and she can’t help but scan the faces of every doctor she can find who’s wearing black scrubs. There are four faces she doesn’t know, five really when she sees a woman in black scrubs disappear into a bathroom. But none of them are the one she's dreading, and for a moment she lets herself hope. 

The nurse gives her a pitying smile again when they enter the room and gestures to the gurney and the folded hospital gown that’s waiting for her. It almost makes her embarrassed when she realizes the gown will cover more of her than the dress she’s wearing, but she swallows it and gives the nurse a half-smile-half-grimace. 

The nurse turns to leave, and the words come out of her without her permission. “I know it’s a long shot,” she rasps, ignoring the way her throat burns and the way it coincides with the downturn of the nurse's mouth, “but is Dr. Abbot here?”

“I'm sorry, but no. He usually works the night shift, and left a few hours ago,” the nurse says softly. “Someone will be by in a minute to check on you,” she trails off, ducking her head to look at the tablet in her hands as she turns, clearly eager to leave if the speed the privacy curtain closes is any indication.

The moment the nurse is gone, she lets herself deflate. Stripping the dress off her body hurts; emotionally and physically. Her joints pull, her skin is raw, and it feels like every nerve ending is on fire. But the state of her dress just makes her sad; the glittery mesh is torn in multiple places, and the white satin is flecked in blood. The whole thing is going to have to go. 

Just looking at it makes her feel sick, but she refuses to think about the man who did this to her. She puts the concept of him out of her head and slips the hospital gown on. It chafes the bruises on her throat but she ignores it in favor of tossing her ruined clothing and the holographic platforms on the chair in the corner and making herself comfortable on the gurney. She wouldn't be surprised if it was hours before someone saw her. 

-----

If Jack is honest with himself (which he tries to be most of the time) it wasn't the vet patient dying that fucked him up this morning; it started way before that. It had been calling the time of death at 2:39 am on a Jane Doe who had been attacked and all but bled to death in the ambulance on the way in. Because when the call had come through 14 minutes before he had to call it and Bridget told him about the inbound sex worker found on the street, his throat felt like it was closing. Because he knew it could have been her. Because when they rolled her in on the gurney, black hair spread out like ink on the white sheets, blood spilling from her slashed throat, face bruised and swollen so bad she was nearly unrecognizable, he couldn't breathe. 

But then he saw it — more the lack of it — Jane Doe didn’t have a tattoo. She had a tattoo of a mermaid in the dead center of her left forearm, a beautiful thing he always wanted to ask her about but never got the chance. The realization it wasn't her had the vice of fear loosening its grip from his chest. 

He worked hard to save the girl (even though she wasn't her) and he probably let the effort go on longer than he should have, but the inevitability of her death couldn't be changed. He tried to let go after; let go of the panic that had invaded his senses, let go of the questions lingering in his mind. 

But the unease had stuck to him like a fly trap through the rest of the shift. It might not have been her, but damn well could have been. 

Losing the vet had just taken him out at the already shaky knees. And he held it together until he knew Robby was about to show up for his shift. Only then did he retreat to the roof. Only then did he let himself feel it all the way. 

He knew he wasn't going to jump, not when he had so many unresolved parts. Because more than anything, Jack craves the completion, to get the full image, the satisfaction of all the pieces coming together; it doesn't matter if the outcome is bad, it just needs to be done. And she is unresolved. 

So the first thing he does when he walks out of the hospital is call his therapist. Jack talks as he walks through the park, his therapist listens, and when they're done talking, Jack gets in his truck and drives home; the police scanner stays on low. 

He started listening to the scanner years ago, wanting to be prepared for anything. Prepared to come in on his day off. Prepared to go in early if he's needed. But it's only recently that he really listens for something. Any mention of a Jane Doe that fits her description, Jack has to see. Has to know if it's her. And thankfully it hasn't been yet. 

But he’s afraid it will be soon. His therapist, Walter, keeps telling him to talk to her the next time she comes into the ER. But he also knows he shouldn't, for any number of reasons. 

In fact, he has a list of reasons, detailing exactly why he should not speak to her or seek her out for any reason:

1. She's way too young for him, probably with baggage he hasn't the first idea how to deal with

She's younger than he has any right to even look at, younger than he thinks he could ever be comfortable with. And he knows her line of work isn't something people go into easily or with a lot of other options. The thought of her forced into that life unravels something in him that he thought he left in the desert overseas.

2. He's a grown man, with a lot of baggage he still isn't quite sure he knows how to deal with

Jack knows the life he’s lived hasn't been easy; tours and medic training and losing a foot and losing his bride days after she walked down the aisle to marry him. All probably before she was even old enough to drive. Maybe even before she hit puberty.

3. She's a patient (sometimes) and he's her doctor (sometimes)

These go hand in hand, because there are lines he told himself he wouldn't cross, lines he knows he shouldn't cross. And the biggest one was taking advantage of someone who he was duty bound to. Worst of all, it's a position he's seen lesser men take advantage of many times, and Jack has always enjoyed making those men regret it.

4. She could ruin him 

Despite all the things that he knows about himself to be true — he's standoffish, borderline suicidal, a workaholic, not quite cold but definitely not warm — the one thing he can't deny is that he’s never been able to do something in half measures. Jack can't do casual, not anymore; he tried after his wife died. He told himself that he couldn't commit to someone again, but the emptiness the one-night stands left haunted him. And he swore off flings after the last one left him bitter and hollow. 

5. He would happily let her ruin him if she wanted to

He feels like Odysseus tied to the mast of his ship when it comes to her. And he convinces himself that he’s resisted her pull until the next time she ends up waiting in a patient bay for him. He desperately wants to know her, wants to be pulled into her orbit, wants any part of her she'll give him. And he knows himself; he is already too attached to her. Because he doesn't even know her name (she always comes in with a different one) but it doesn't matter to him. 

And he knows he should tell someone, Ellis maybe, or Robby. But he also knows he won't, because he needs to see her. He needs to know she's alright. Because he knows it's a dangerous world out there, especially for a girl in her line of work. Because he’s already lost himself to her. Because the day he goes to ID a Jane Doe and it's her, he's going to shatter. 

So he drives home listening to the police scanner and recites his list while he packs away the anxiety and the emotions from the shift and starts ticking off the items on his day off list: he sleeps, he goes grocery shopping, he picks up his package from the post office, he picks up a new book from the library. And he hopes he doesn’t hear about her through the police scanner.

-----

The sound of the curtain being pulling back is what startles her out of her half aware doze; it isn't like anyone can get much sleep in the ER. But the loss of time still confuses her; he must have hit her harder than she remembered. Actually, now that she thinks about it, she can't really remember what happened other than the pain and the fear. But the memories around it — how he got her alone and how she got away from him — are what's missing. The more she thinks about it, the less she can remember even getting to this side of town. PTMC should have been an hour walk at least, and she can't remember making that walk at all.

But she puts that aside as she braces herself for him;  the condescending remarks, the accusations, and the threats of getting her arrested for prostitution. She’s taken every insult, every intimidation, every reproach and doesn't say a word. He'll never know what it means to live the life she does and how vastly different it will always be from his world; if not for the fact that he is a man, but also for the choices and opportunities that have been handed to him at every turn. 

She tries not to let his words stick too much, but sometimes she can't help but hear his voice in her head, sneering and snide as he walks out the door, gloves snapping, “I can't wait for the day you show up in the morgue instead of my ER.”

It was what she heard rattling in her head when she was losing consciousness under violent hands a few hours ago.

But the relief swamps her all at once when two female doctors walk in, neither of whom she'd ever seen before. One looked younger than her, by five years at least; her eyes widened and she fought to stifle the gasp that tore through her throat when she walked in. The other was the one who disappeared into the bathroom when the nurse walked her through the ER; she was confident, but not cocky, and despite the kind smile on her face, her eyes betrayed her pity.

She didn't want their pity, she was sick of it. For a second, her rage burns bright and hot, but it gets smothered instantly by shame. What right did she have to be angry at them? They could pity her all they liked, maybe she deserves it. She’s broken enough for it today. 

“Good morning, Kat. I'm Dr. Fullerton,” the doctor with the kind smile says. “I have a student doctor here with me. Is it okay if she comes in with us?”

She gets tired of watching the shock compound on the student doctor’s face and she turns away from their stares before agreeing half heartedly.

Moving her head was evidently the wrong move as the ringing in her ears comes back just then, and she can barely hear Dr. Fullerton’s question, but she’s been through this enough times to know what the question was. 

“I need Plan B,” she mumbles back. She doesn't really care anymore if that's not the answer to the question she asked, only that the sharp ringing starts to subside. Only now the bright, fluorescent lights are making her feel like her head is being bounced off the pavement again. 

She hears the muffled sound of satisfaction and agreement, before the wave of pain passes, and Dr. Fullerton’s voice now comes back, “—did you get your injuries?”

That's the question that always makes her cringe; they're never interested in how it actually happened. And even when they are, all it means is that cops are soon to follow. They don't need to know that some guy who was supposed to pay her decided he wanted to get his pleasure for free, and didn't like it when she said no. 

She flicks her gaze up to meet Dr. Fullerton’s eyes, pity now stowed away. She doesn't bother looking at the student doctor — she knows exactly what she'll find there. The shrug she gives gets no response, and she finds she can't look this doctor in the eyes and lie. So she looks away, down to her beaten up hands and says, “Took a nasty fall down some stairs.”

“That's one hell of a staircase,” the student doctor fires back, and if it were any other time she would have laughed out loud.

But her ribs scream even as she huffs out the mirthless chuckle, “You're not wrong.”

Dr. Fullerton looks distraught for a second before schooling her expression into something neutral. "Do you mind if I examine some of them? I'm worried about your right eye, especially. It's swelling up pretty good."

The thought of missing a shift sends her reeling. She needs the money, badly. Ivan took her rent money saying she never paid him out for last weekend. If she doesn't have the money by the end of the week, she'll lose her apartment, and being on the street is the one thing she really doesn't need right now. 

"Is that going to take a long time? I-I kind of need to get back to work…” she hopes they understand, hopes they see the urgency in her eyes.

Dr. Fullerton looks nauseous as she stares into the middle distance just above her head. It makes her nervous more than it makes her comforted by someone's care; if Dr. Fullerton wants to keep her there, to try and save her from this, she's dooming her to a life worse than what she has now. 

It takes a moment for the doctor to find her words before speaking. "It depends if the exam findings indicate anything that appears worrisome. Your wellbeing is important and I'm going to treat it as such."

The simple way Dr. Fullerton says it shocks her all the way to her bones. It's maybe the nicest thing she's heard from a doctor in a while — definitely the nicest from anyone on day shift regardless of the hospital. 

But as she watches the doctor’s slow, methodical movements and feels all at once like the feral cat she feeds sometimes outside her apartment. Skittish, wary, ready to strike out and escape. She supposes the image does fit as the doctor's hands move toward her face and she cringes away, expecting the pain.

"I'm going to apply a little pressure," Dr. Fullerton says, pushing her thumbs against her cheekbone first before moving them up towards her nose.

The gasp that escapes her is involuntary but cuts through the silence of the room like a knife, followed by a hiss of pain that makes Dr. Fullerton pull away.

Dr. Fullerton looks actually aggrieved as she sits back in her chair, small frown set on her lips. "I'm going to order a CT to rule out any facial fractures. Have you felt dizzy at all? Any bouts of nausea or vomiting since you...fell?"

She almost laughs; of course she has. The room hasn't stopped spinning since the first slap. Every blow that followed only made it worse. It reminded her of learning ballet as a little girl and getting dizzy when she lost her spot in a turn. But she also knows that telling them means more time in the ER, and she doesn't know if she can afford that. Especially not when she doesn't really know what time it is anymore.

"No,” she says dismissively, but as soon as the lie passes her lips her head throbs and her conviction wavers for a second, “I mean… I get a little dizzy but it's okay. Is the CT going to take a long time?"

Dr. Fullerton looks actually distraught by the idea of her not getting a CT scan and she decides she can try to wait it out as long as possible. But over her shoulder, she sees the one person she's been desperate to avoid since walking into PTMC.

"I'm super curious what your name is today? Val? Eva?" Dr. Langdon’s words land like a slap and she recoils as if he had as well. He leans against the doorframe, arms over his chest with a smug smile and she can feel the threat in his stance. He wants her to know he's caught her and he’s going to make her suffer for it.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Fullerton snaps, voice full of what she can only identify as rage and indignation. 

But he isn't phased, he just juts his chin towards her and smiles passively at Dr. Fullerton like he’s about to open her eyes to some unseen truth. And she hates how nervous it makes her. "She's a frequent flyer and has been flagged at multiple other hospitals for drug seeking."

But Dr. Fullerton’s mouth purses in disgust as she glares at Dr. Langdon over her shoulder. "Can I speak with you for a minute?" The doctor’s voice is clipped and angry, and it sends a sick satisfaction curling in her gut. Especially when she sees how it makes him sweat and watches the confidence die in his eyes. 

“I'll be right back, Kat, alright?" Dr. Fullerton says, and everyone in the room jumps when she snaps the gloves off her hands; the sound still makes her flinch as Dr. Langdon’s words echo in her head. 

"Okay,” she chokes out, ignoring the metallic shing of the curtain and the hiss of the door closing. 

The student doctor shifts back and forth from her toes to her heels, looking at anything but her. The girl is pretty in an innocent sort of way, and she knows with near certainty that this doctor has never met someone like her before. 

“So, is this your first day?” She asks, trying to break the tension.

“Oh! Uh, yes. It is. I don't think Dr. Fullerton said it but I'm Dr. Javadi,” she says back with a smile, holding her hand out for a shake. She can't help the wry smile that sneaks on her face as Dr. Javadi starts to second guess her attempted pleasantries.

She reaches out to shake the hand offered politely; her grandparents would have rolled in their graves if she snubbed the poor girl's handshake. “If it's not too rude, how old are you?”

Dr. Javadi’s eyes widen in alarm before she cringes and admits, “I’m actually 20.” The look on her face must have betrayed her surprise because Dr. Javadi is quick to follow with, “I swear I finished med school, I am a real doctor. I just-I had a lot of—”

“That’s awesome,” she manages to breathe out, which stops Dr. Javadi in her tracks. 

“Wait, really? You think it's cool that I'm a huge nerd who finished med school like 4 years before everyone else?” The doctor chokes out and she smiles.

“Yeah, it's really fucking cool,” she laughs, “I’m older than you and I don't even have my—”

The door hissing open draws her attention away from Dr. Javadi and onto Dr. Fullerton, who's bustling in the room so quickly she almost stumbles into another doctor's back. For a second, she's happy it's not Dr. Langdon.

But that's immediately overshadowed by fear. She's seen this doctor before, not as a patient but around. Dr. Langdon pointed him out to her once, the warning in his tone was clear but the words were lost in the haze of pain from her fractured collarbone. 

His eyes go wide as he scans her, and just for a second she sees shock and horror. But he shutters it quickly and steps aside to let Dr. Fullerton back into the room.

She can't deny how scared she is; he’stall and broad, hair salt and peppering at the temples. But his presence looms and steals the words from her mouth in response to Dr. Javadi.

She's instantly back to feeling like a cornered animal, and she knows she probably looks like it to the doctors in the room as well when all three of the doctors softened their postures.

Dr. Fullerton gives her a soft smile, "Kat, this our senior physician, Dr. Robby. I asked for his help during our assessment."

Her eyes cut back to Dr. Robby warily, "Hi," she deadpanned cautiously. She couldn't tell if they were preparing to kick her out or follow through with Dr. Langdon's threat to send her to jail. 

Dr. Robby gives her a small smile, tight but lacking pity. "It's just like Dr. Fullerton said; I'm just here to check on you. I also want to apologize on behalf of my resident earlier if anything he said upset you. That's not how we operate here."

It would have been funny if she wasn't so afraid he was lying; Dr. Langdon had been threatening her for months, ever since the first time she'd come in. She waits for the catch, for the caveat, for the hint of a lie. But he simply stares at her, waiting for permission. She nods, but hesitation lingers in her mind.

He approaches her like the scared animal she feels like, hands outstretched toward her. "Can you tell me how this happened?" He asks, gently taking her face in his hands presses on her cheekbones, just as Dr. Fullerton had. 

The pressure makes her vision swim and her eyes water and she forces out the words, "I took a nasty fall down some stairs." It barely tastes like a lie when her face feels like it's on fire, pressure moving closer to her nose and forcing a tear to track down her face. 

She winces, and surprisingly he stops, but his hands stay hovering slightly over her skin. "Does it hurt when I apply pressure?"

"Yes," she spits out, willing him to stop with her mind. 

"On a scale of 1 through 10," he asks, and she fights the urge to snarl at him.

"It hurts but I'll live,” she grits through her teeth, staring him in the eyes.

She barely notices his hands fully leaving her face, fighting against the tears gathering in her lashes, when he takes her arm in his hand, lifting and prodding.

The medical jargon starts flowing between the doctors in the room and she feels like a doll on a shelf; it's a familiar feeling for her. She lays back on the gurney when he directs her to, and lets him press on her stomach.

She finally zones back into the conversation when Dr. Robby starts "—a CT also for chest and abdomen along with an x-ray."

"Why?" Dr. Fullerton and Dr. Javadi ask at the same time. 

Dr. Robby gives her a sympathetic smile and moves his hands and presses on a spot that makes her groan in pain.

"That hurts, ya know," she gasps. 

Dr. Robby gives her a wry smile, "I know. You're sure you fell down a flight of stairs?"

Defiance rises in her chest and tastes like ash in her mouth as she snaps, "You calling me a liar?"

She stares him down, all the judgement and vitriol and pity filling her like acid. He wants to paint her as a victim, but she's a fucking person and she doesn't have time for this.

"Not calling you a liar," Dr. Fullerton cuts in, voice soft and pleading. "Your injuries unfortunately don't seem to be from falling and landing on concrete."

She almost feels bad for snapping at Dr. Fullerton but Dr. Robby's tone and condescending doubt override her sense, "I fell."

His humourless chuckle makes her want to scream and the disapproving smile that plays on his face fills her with rage. "It's okay if that's how you want to play this," Robby says gently, but the disbelief in his tone bristles. When she doesn't back down, he crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively, shoulders curling inward as he shrugs. "We won't force you to share more than you're ready to, but we just want to make sure you're safe."

Safe, a hilarious concept for her. Especially after she's received more threats from PTMC doctors than any other hospital in the city. "I'm good. Great even" She deadpans, not backing down from his stare.

He sighs and nods, "Okay. Well, you're in good hands with Dr. Fullerton. She's one of our best."

Dr. Fullerton nearly runs out of the room after him when he leaves without a look back in her direction but she stops and looks back, eyes focused on Dr. Javadi who's been doing her best impression of a decorative plant for the last 5 minutes.

"Can you put in the orders for the CT, x-ray Robby suggested, and a urine analysis? Give her tylenol with codeine for pain. If her UA comes back negative for pregnancy, go ahead and put in for Plan B," Dr. Fullerton instructs and barely sees Dr. Javadi's nod before tossing a hasty, “I’ll be right back,” over her shoulder as she passes through the door, following after Dr. Robby. 

She and Dr. Javadi sit in silence, letting the moment pass, but she can't help but mumble, "I bet they used to date."

The startled laugh claws out of Dr. Javadi’s throat, but the panicked, half coherent protest just solidifies her opinion. While the young doctor has clearly never considered the idea before, she can always tell. Maybe it's just the line of work she's in that gives her the hint, but the signs that those two were lovers are hard to miss. 

“Well, anyway, I'm gonna get you a cup for the UA—I mean the urine analysis—and then get you lined up for CT and x-ray. I'll be back in a minute,” Dr. Javadi smiles nervously. 

“Wait,” she calls out, and Dr. Javadi stops in her tracks, eyes wide. "What time is it?”

“Oh, god, yeah, uh it's…” she trails off, pulling up her sleeve to look at her watch, her expensive watch, “Almost 11am.”

She gives the doctor a smile and turns away, giving the out she knows is needed. She decides to wait for the scans, hopefully they don't make her wait too long to take the pill. But as long as she can get out by 4, she can make it.

-----

taglist is open!

[russolaw]

"This is the last one," Anthony stated, dropping the cardboard box on the bed and not caring that the motion caused two pairs of Johnny's pants to fall off the bed. "How do you have so much crap? You lived alone in a tiny shithole."

Johnny opened his mouth to say something, probably something insulting. Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. "Stop. Ant, don't start."

"I was kidding, jeeze. Am I done? Can I go back to my game?"

Daniel sighed. It had been a battle to get him to help. But he did eventually help with minimal complaining. "Yeah. Thank you."

"Great. Goodbye." He shut the door behind him.

Daniel kissed Johnny's cheek. "Thank you for not saying anything to him."

"It was a struggle." Johnny opened the box and took out a snow globe with no water in it, the flakes settled on the bottom around a bear sitting in a lake with a fish in its' mouth.

"Oh, where'd you get that?"

"A road trip I took years ago. Gave it to my mom." He swiped a thumb across the plaque that at one point had the name of the state, but it had long since faded away. "Can't even remember where I got it from. Where's the box with the garbage in it?"

"What? You wanna toss it?"

"Well, yeah. Gotta get rid of some shit. It's junk, r-right?"

"It's not. Give it." Johnny handed it over and Daniel placed it on a shelf above the TV stand next to a framed picture of Johnny's mom. "Perfect." He came over and picked up the clothes that were on the floor and started folding them. As he did, he peered over Johnny's shoulder to see what else was in the box.

Johnny picked up a chipped, dirty plate. Painted crudely in the middle was a child's attempt at an owl; the eyes were too big, the beak too small, and it only had one wing. Each foot had only one claw, and they were digging into a black bar that Daniel assumed was a tree branch. "You painted that?"

Johnny smiled. "Yeah. Was never very artsy."

"It's adorable. We'll put it in the cabinet with the good plates." He could see the splotch of pink on Johnny's cheek.

"It's not re-"

"Shush. It's cute and still usable. No arguing."

He took out more stuff; a folder of drawings done when he was a kid, two owl figurines, an old magic kit, a teddy bear with a missing eye (that went right on the bed), and a dried up paint set.

The last thing Johnny took out was a small box that he tried to shove in the closet.

"No way, give it here."

"You don't wanna look at these." His face was turning pinker, and he held the box behind him.

"Johnny, come on. Lemme see."

He sighed and handed it over. "They're just some old photos. No big deal."

Old photos? Daniel thought, getting a little worried. He sat on the bed and shifted through them. "Oh, thank God."

"What?"

"Nothing, I just tho- never mind it's not important. Old model pictures, huh?" Johnny was shirtless in several of them. Hopefully he was of age. There were also some photos of him with his fellow Cobras, looking happy and relaxed. "You play guitar?"

Johnny shrugged. "A little. Wasn't very good."

"Why are these hidden?"

"I... I was gonna like, put them in a scrapbook. Super girly, I know. Uhm... but..."

"But what?"

"It's stupid. I just... didn't."

"Did you make scrapbooks often?"

"Uh... when I was younger. I threw them all out 'cause... A-anyway, are you done so I can, ya know." He gestured to the closest.

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not. And if you think you're going to be putting these where no one can see them, you're wrong."

"Daniel, I-"

"Nope. We're gonna go out and get you a scrapbook and you can slide all these in there. Maybe we can even print out some photos of us and all the kids and put them in it. And you can decorate it however you want. I won't complain."

Johnny looked away and rubbed his arm. "You're like a grandma."

"Shut it. Come sit and tell me about your camping trip." He held up one where Johnny had a hiking backpack on.

Johnny grinned and sat down, not an inch of space between them.

[egophiliac]

I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.

Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?

oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D

I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!

I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)

the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!

personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.

it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!

(blue - thirds, red - half)

and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):

(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)

other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:

and frame and control the focus:

honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!

NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

[thegoldencontracts]

A Turn-Table

Summary: Azul's in quite the teasing mood. Too bad he can't take what he dishes out.

Notes: Flustered Azul my skrunkly poo darling

Azul seemed to be in the mood to tease you today. You could tell because he was currently snickering at your misery like he'd never seen anything funnier.

Okay, maybe that was a bit overdramatic. He was flirting with you, and was watching you lose your cool over it. Was it confusing that you couldn't handle his flirting despite the fact that you two were dating and he'd done it before? Maybe. But he didn't have to tease you about it!

He just laughed. Kept laughing, because of course he thought this was hilarious.

"My dearest," he said. "For all your beauty, I must admit your most adorable expression is that accompanied by your pinkened cheeks. I simply can't resist this, you know."

Why was he so damn confident? It wasn't fair!

"S-Shut up!"

"How cold!" He crooned, feigning offense. "But alas, I'll love you anyways. For you're a magnet, and it seems I'm a scrap of metal. Never repelled no matter what side of you I encounter."

Why was he so smooth? You couldn't handle this. Though, you had to admit, you didn't really mind.

"You know, since you've been struck silent, I might as well take the opportunity to tell you how much I desire the the sensation of your lips upon mine," he said, with a smirk that you would never admit rendered you even more flustered.

You couldn't help but feel a bit- odd, though. Didn't Azul deserve to be swept off his feet too?

You probably weren't very good at it, but you could try.

"You know, maybe, uh, maybe I'm the octopus in this relationship," you said, unable to help but cringe at yourself. Why were you doing this? "'Cause, c-considering how much pounding there is in my chest when I'm around you, there's, uh, there's no way I just have one heart in there."

That was the worst, most poorly-executed pickup line you'd ever heard. Hopefully Azul would feel merciful and decide to refrain from teasing you.

He didn't seem to laugh though, not even level you a deadpan look over you garbage line. Instead, his face flushed, eyes averted from yours.

Did- Did your pickup line actually work on him?

"Don't tease me," he said.

You could feel your jaw hand open in shock.

"T-That was a terrible line," you said. "And it got to you?"

Azul huffed, seeming defensive.

"I'm simply not used to people desiring me in any manner," he said.

What? Azul wasn't used to being desirable? True, you didn't initiate when it came to flirting as much as.you'd like to, but that was because: One, you sucked at it; and two, you always thought Azul was one of those guys everyone flirted with. He was the nigh-omnipotent Octavinelle housewarden, after all.

"But you're- you!" You said, gesturing at him vaguely. "You're smart, and you're hardworking, and you're so pretty it makes me go feral, and-"

"This is unnecessary," Azul said, now burying his face within his hands, and you couldn't help but grin.

You'd just found a weakness of his.

"What is?" You asked, patting him on the head both for the sake of teasing and because his hair was just irresistibly soft. "Me telling you how pretty you are? Or how cute you look when your face is scrunched up in concentration? Or when you-"

"Shut it already, you utter cretin!" Azul snapped, and you couldn't help but grin.

"You know, you sound more affectionate right now than when you call me 'darling'," you said, and he pouted.

"I assure you, I hold no affection towards any of- this behavior."

Was he- scared? That you'd make fun of him for wanting affection? No, no. That wouldn't do.

"I do, though," you said. "It's just too cute watching you get all flustered."

A high-pitched, squeaking noise, followed by silence.

"Azul?"

You just broke your boyfriend, didn't you?

Bonus:

"As prideful as Azul may seem, he actually holds himself in quite low regard, having never received anything but disparagement in the past, and therefore is easily affected by even the slightest traces of care from those outside of his family, simply due to the fact he's never received them before."

"..."

"Is something the matter?"

"Are you info-dumping to me about my boyfriend?"

Jade Leech was an- eccentric guy, to say the least.

[theinfamousdoctorf]

This won't work for EMHM so I'm throwing it out there to hopefully inspire someone else-

[Just to preface I DO NOT support corporal punishment in any way, but for fiction it's fine.] Watching some of the original interactions between the original Eclipse and Lunar I do get the sense that he was parenting Lunar at least somewhat. He was certainly policing his language and teaching him some useful things. And then Lunar broke off and betrayed him and Sun and Moon accepted him as a brother. So what I'm thinking now is that that means NOBODY attempted to continue parenting this clearly immature learning AI. He doesn't do his laundry, he showers with his clothes on and is clearly not keeping his body properly cleaned. He eats nothing but the same garbage/sugar food [Nutella] and clearly has no/little control over his negative emotions. He seemingly never learned how to forgive anyone either. Lately he's been trying to start shit with the current Eclipse and Eclipse clearly just wants to be left alone. He left the dimension to get away from the family and now Puppet keeps inviting Lunar for the drama when Eclipse is contractually obligated to participate even though he's not comfortable with it. I'm meandering but it's just occurring to me that Sun and Moon accepted Lunar as a brother yes. But he'd also lost his only parent and nobody picked up that slack. They just let him run wild. So now he's a feral man-child with a bunch of terrible habits. Though this does make it entertaining when Lunar is in the other dimension and Eclipse is taunting him a little like; yeah you're super special protagonist boy. Don't care. Your powers don't work here and if you try to throw hands with me I'm gonna smack you just like the original Eclipse because I'm bigger then you and tired of your shit when I'm trying to mind my own business and not talk to you at all. I can see him just getting completely fed up with Lunar and giving him a spanking. Because nobody has told Lunar what to do since the original died, and frankly; maybe they should have.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 2

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe's never had too much trouble adapting.

Warnings: NONE HERE.

I'm very sorry this took 3 MONTHS to post... a lot has happened. Hopefully the future will have faster updates. Also, this part is pretty short and I don't really like it, but I I'm reminding myself that it's all just building up. Until next time!

It’s noon when I’m buzzed up to the apartment. Love caught you up on the last minute changes. Still, you open the door with hesitancy and step back without once looking me in the eye. I peel my boots off, taking my time to really look around the living room. There’s nothing of interest here anymore, now knowing this isn’t your place and these aren’t your things. When I make my way to the corner table by the couch, I pick up a frame. Another picture without you in it.

“She had a lot of friends,” You sniff. I turn to look at you. “Left almost everything to them, actually.”

“What a great mom…” I comment and set the picture back in place. “What did she leave you?”

You look around the apartment, gesturing about. I look too, but nothing else catches my eye. Where are your things?

“Garbage.” You respond. You rub your nose then, when I don’t respond, and sniff again. You still don’t meet my eyes.

“This apartment, too?” I inquire, but you shake your head.

“In a way… she left me with the bill. I can’t afford a place in LA on my own, and It’s costing me money I don’t have for this place to sit unoccupied. So, I’m clearing it for new tenants before the month’s over.”

I rub the back of my neck. Your mom sounds like a bitch, but I’d like to stay focused and get the real job here out of the way. “Should we get started?”

“Yeah, uh… First things first,” You start, pointing behind you toward the kitchen. “We have to throw everything edible in the cupboards out.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. It all has to go. I already cleared the fridge this morning.”

You walk around the kitchen island, bend down to pull out a drawer, and come back to the surface with a few plastic garbage bags. I take one, and we begin.

The cupboards themselves seem to be in good condition, until I pulled one open and the knob comes right off. We laughed. You reassured me it had happened to you too, and that you simply pushed it back into place. After throwing the few cereal boxes left inside into my garbage bag, I did the same. The inside of these cupboards are dusty, and the small black pellets left behind look more like mouse shit than they do crumbs. I’ll have to tell Love I was right about the rodents.

I reach over and take a metal tin. Something jostles inside as I bring it to my ear. You peer over from your corner and jump.

“Not that,” you say as you reach over to take the tin out of my hands. “Love made those.”

“And your mom’s been keeping them in her cupboard?”

“No, of course not,” You roll your eyes and start prying it open. “Love gave them to me the other day. They're homemade cookies.”

When the cover comes off, I see six golden cookies spread out. They look good.

I look up at you, wondering.

“You can take one, I don’t mind.” You say.

I reach in and take a cookie, bringing it between my teeth not a moment sooner. I bite.

The flavour is sweet and tangy. Lemon, I recognised it quickly… You can really taste Love in them. But, I can’t help but sulk a little; she doesn’t make me cookies, I think sourly.

“Good, right?” you ask, taking one for yourself before shutting the tin. You split a piece off and pop it into your mouth. I watch the action, chewing away at my bite. I feel cold. Upset. I’m growing bitter at the thought of Love making treats specially for you. I’m jealous, I know. Jealousy and I know each other remarkably well.

Once the cupboards are empty of the numerous snack boxes your mom seemed to endlessly collect, we tie the garbage bags and bring them to the front door.

We spend the rest of the afternoon wiping the surfaces clean, scrubbing the tiles, and making sure anyone could feasibly lick spilt milk off the fucking floors.

As you scrub away at the floors with a brush, I wipe down the inside of the cupboards – rat shit and all. We’ve engaged in small talk throughout – mostly on the subject of your family life since the split. You lived with your dad up until recently. He never remarried.

“How’s Love?” You suddenly ask me. You hadn’t seen her since the dinner… probably the longest you’d gone since the ten years before. I groan, but you don't hear it.

“She’s been good,” I say. “She’s out of town with Forty today.”

“And… you?”

“What about me?” I smile, looking down as you pause your scrubbing. You don’t look up at me as you spray tile cleaner down.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, I’ve just been helping you tidy the place up.”

I watch you smile at that.

“And I appreciate it,” You huff, grabbing a rag to wipe the suds. You look up at me then, and I watch as your eyes shy away the moment you notice me staring.

“I think I’m done with the cupboards.” I state.

“Right,” You acknowledge. “I’m just finishing up here and I think we can call it a day.”

By the time we’re done, two full garbage bags have been tossed in the communal bin outside. The kitchen’s done, clean, as pristine as any of LA’s cheapest apartments can get. I stretch my back as I check my phone. Already 4 o’clock.

“Hey, Will?” You ask as I crack my knuckles and make my way to the front door. “Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?” I turn to look at you. Your lips are tucked in, eyes curious.

“I don’t have to be anywhere in particular, no.” I answer, crouching to slide on my boots. “Why?”

“I was thinking of treating you to lunch.” You say, chewing on your lip as you tear your eyes away. “To thank you for helping out. Would you be okay with that?”

I’m surprised as I tie up my laces unsteadily. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think I’d mind that – Isn’t it already 4 pm?” You could almost make me blush.

“A late lunch, then. Calling it dinner just sounds like a date.” You say, laughing your comment off with a wave. I nod slowly, thinking. Just a treat… and I have nothing waiting for me at home.

“Sure, sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect, let me grab my purse.”

—

We’re seated in the far back of a dingy diner. The waitress sets down two glasses of water before leaving us alone with the menu. You drop your familiar jingling bag right by your side in the booth and lift the glass to your lips. Your hands set it down a moment later, my eyes continue to linger on them while you talk.

“So, how did you and Love meet?”

“Anavrin, can you believe it?” I say playfully.

“Really?” You respond with surprise as you lift your arm, drop your elbow on the table, and rest your chin on your palm. “How did that go?”

If I said I followed her around for a while, got a job where she worked, and she still made a move on me first, would you believe me? I think I’ll just skip to the good part.

“Okay, so… She picks up this peach, and–” Before I can finish, you put your hand out to stop me.

“Wait, let me guess…” You hold off for a few seconds and raise your brows. “She said it looked like a butt?”

“Actually, she asked me if it looked like a butt.” I reply snarkily and you roll your eyes.

“Same difference.” You say as you wave me off.

“Oh no…” I feign a ground-breaking realisation, my gestures playful as I can’t help but smile. “Don’t tell me I fell for an overly used pick-up line…”

“Ah, I really couldn’t tell you how often she used it, if at all,” You take a deep breath before continuing with a smile. “but I remember we had an ongoing joke like that – about peaches and butts.”

“I guess you’ve left an impact.”

“I guess so.” You look around, suddenly sheepish as you take a sip of your water, again. You change the subject. “Know of any good bookstores around here? I’ve been gone for so long that any of the places I can recall have been bought out and replaced.”

“Well, there’s Anavrin. Where I work. With books.” We both crack a smile again and you nearly laugh in my face. I raise my brows and slowly nod my head to really hammer in that I wasn’t kidding.

“Right. I’m not looking for vegan cookbooks or autobiographies.” Cute, you’re trying to be funny.

“Oh, come on!” I grip my chest and feigned a painful jab to my heart. “I’m sure I can get you the book you’re looking for. If it isn’t in stock, I can order some copies.”

“You’d do that for me?” You tilt your head in such a curious way and I feel myself getting warm under my shirt.

“Of course! So, what’re you looking for?”

“I – Nothing yet… I’ll let you know. I’m working on a project.”

“Ooh – If you don’t mind me asking, what’s this project for?”

“Hmm… mostly myself. I don’t have a job so I spend my hours reading and writing.”

“You can make a career out of writing.” I assure you.

“But then it wouldn’t be fun! The moment I have a deadline, I don’t want to work anymore.” You pout.

“I take it you have money set aside?”

“Yes – kind of. I had money set aside, but…” You look away, clicking your tongue as you think. Your lips part for a moment, as though you were ready to say something, but you hesitate. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

“I don’t mean to pry, and – and you can just tell me you don’t want to answer anything – were you close with your mom? Before everything, I mean.”

“No,” You laugh while lacking the joke. “She never liked me. I think she just never wanted kids. Maybe she felt threatened by having a daughter. And, actually, as a testament of her hatred, she left me with nothing but the overpriced apartment.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I frown.

“Oh, trust me when I say you’re already doing more than enough. I’ll be out of there sooner than later, and I won’t have to worry about payments weighing me down.”

You lift your arm and your hand falls to the single laminated menu between us. You look through it slowly. I watch you, and I feel pity.

“You said you like writing,” I begin, opting to change the subject.

“Correct.” You reply robotically before looking up at me.

“Have you ever thought about publishing any of your work?”

“Maybe one day. It’s never been a priority of mine, but I’ve thought about it before.”

“Do you have anything I could read so far? Might be able to give some pointers, advice… you name it.”

“Of course! But – but I’d prefer to read it over again beforehand. I have a strange process; it may not even be comprehensible in its current state.” You laugh and I can’t help but chuckle along.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh ease up on it! I can see why Love likes you so much,” You say. “You’re very supportive.”

I smile at the comment, feeling content. You’re not so bad yourself.

“Know what you’re getting?” I suddenly ask, bringing both of our attention back to the menu. You bounce and look down.

“I was thinking about a club sandwich,” you say, “What about you?”

“I mean, I haven’t looked at the menu yet.” I laugh and realization hits you. The menu is spun to face me as your finger hits the page.

“This is what I’m getting – the club sandwich,” Your finger slides down to the selection below it. “They also have a BLT option,” and below that, “mac and cheese, corn dogs…” and as you continue to talk, my mind begins to blank. My eyes dawdle on the movement of your hands, following where they had been on the sheet as your words drift off into nothing, but your voice remains. I’m thinking about the softness of the way you’re speaking to me, serenely, and I’m entranced by the sound.

“Do you know what you’d like?” I’m snapped out of my daze, my thoughts. My eyes shoot up to look at you and you tilt your head with the question still fresh in the air. I blink.

I… like……

I look back down and point at something simple. Quite frankly, the options at local diners tend to be, for a lack of a better term, just as expected.

“Fries?” You ask and I blink a few more times. I wasn’t really thinking, actually.

“Yeah, I mean. What a great lunch, right?” You laugh and ask me again, but I reassure you a plate of fries is just fine.

When the waitress makes her rounds, we place our orders. She refills our waters and we meld back into simple conversation.

As we spend the next few hours talking, even when our food arrives. I watch you pick at your plate. You’re slow to eat because you talk so much. You’re opening up like never before, and I’m slipping into a familiar feeling I hadn’t expected. When you finish your fries, you ask. “Can I pick off your plate?” and I let you because you gave me half of your sandwich to try. I watch the way my fries slip past your lips and, when you swallow, I watch that too. I swallow too, too.

I need to fuck Love.

—

“Hey, Will,” you inquire on our walk back to the apartment. The chit chat was nice, even if the lunch was unappetizing. Fries alone don’t sate much. “Would you be able to stop by tomorrow? To help a bit more?”

“Well,” I laugh. “I work tomorrow,”

“Right,” You close your eyes and tuck your lip, nodding. “I just–”

“I can come over on my next day off, if you really need the extra set of hands.”

“That would be really helpful,” You sigh contently, shoulders dropping. “Thank you.”

“How does Tuesday sound? You think you’d be free then?”

“Oh, I’m free,” You assure me. “I don’t have much else to do in the city.”

Your phone rings – the sound like the chime of a bell – and you fish it out of your purse to answer it.

“It’s Love,” You tell me as you accept the call and put it to your ear. We stop our promenade and you turn away, no doubt to feel like you have a crumb of privacy.

“Hey, Lovey,” You sigh. I can practically hear the smile on your lips as you step around distractedly. I rub my nose and watch you. I can’t hear Love from this distance.

“Actually, I – I already ate,” You laugh, pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear as you turn around. You’re watching your shoes as you languidly pace, suddenly unaware of the world moving around you as you listen to the call. I take hold of your forearm and pull you to the side when someone walks by. You’re a little surprised at first, but nod at me appreciatively. I can hear Love from here, beside you, tucked closer to the buildings and out of the way of passersby.

‘With Will?’ I hear Love say.

“Yeah, with Will. It was a, uh… a thank you for helping out. He didn’t have to, you know? So…”

‘See! He’s not so bad,’ When you glance up at me, I move to look around, observing the sidewalk across the street. I can’t help a smile from creeping up.

“You’re right,” You huff. “But, um… We’ll talk again later, okay? Will and I are still walking back to the apartment.”

’Sure thing, babe,’ I bite the inside of my cheek, but my smile doesn’t falter. ‘Lunch tomorrow?’

“Yeah, tomorrow. Hope things went well with Forty today,”

When you hang up, I turn my head to look at you. You look forward, defeated.

“Good?” I ask.

“Yeah, good.” You reply, already continuing our path back to the apartment. I follow while you lead ahead.

“I’m not so bad, eh?” I throw in, and you glance behind to roll your eyes at me. I laugh and catch up to you, nudging your shoulder. You huff and finally laugh along too.

"Not so bad at all," You shake your head and huff.

We part ways in front of the building, exchanging lazy waves as you hop up the steps.

"See you on Tuesday," I say.

I watch you the way I had that other night, clumsily twisting your key, pushing on the door too soon. When the door's unlocked and finally opens, you turn to look at me one last time, waving again.

"Tuesday!" You confirm, slipping through the crack.

I turn away, making my way back to my car.

[jisuto]

On the topic of game reception, what are your thoughts on the current state of pokemon?

OK THIS ASK WAS SENT BEFORE THE HUGE LEAK LOL but I have a lot to say:

I watched VHS tapes, played the games, and owned merch since a young age so the series is very special to me. But I don't like the current direction at all and it's not because of the designs or nostalgia. The quality and game performance plummeted so how can I enjoy playing when there's mad lag or low frame rate that hinders my progress and worsen the experience??

It took too many years for them to realize they need to put quality over quantity after the SWSH mess, seeing that they can get away with pretty much ANYTHING and still make huge profit. You see people say that Pokemon should've never went 3D and stay 2D but tbh, it's a series that improves it's graphics as technology advances so it's not a surprise for them to finally go 3D and personally I think that's fine but just keep it looking good and fun (though I would love a 2D/3D hybrid). XY introduced a lot of new features but still lacked in some aspects that still haven't really been solved or added.

Reusing assets is common in the industry but only to a certain extent. They claimed that SWSH was taking a while to make because they were making brand new models which turned out to be a lie and they look like bootleg figures with the new lighting. The 3DS models were ripped from Pokepark, including some animations, but a lot of them still barely have any character. They have their own in-house team (Creatures Inc) so they made the decision NOT to have pokemon properly animated or look alive.... Also they made spin-offs like Ranger, Colosseum, Pokepark, and Pokken which look AMAZING

FRLG took only one year while HGSS was being developed at the same time as Platinum and took 3 years to finish that turned into one of the best games and remakes ever made. As the franchise expands, the team also needs to add more manpower but Game Freak can definitely afford to get more resources to help them?? They can't continue having a ragtag team of like 20 people to make a game back then and do the same now then expect good results... Hire more people who know how create with current gen consoles IT'S COMMON SENSE PLS also I can't believe they had a different company create BDSP knowing how beloved and groundbreaking DPPT was?? No redesigns like the previous remakes and thought it was a good idea to keep it looking a carbon copy to the DS style...

Also it's shocking to see how fan reception can change how the devs direct the next gen ESPECIALLY when it's not even real constructive criticism?? When Unova came out, I remember seeing all the online outcry about "OH THEY HAVE AN ICE CREAM CONE POKEMON AND A TRASH BAG, THEY'RE RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS EW" then actually hear it being repeated at school.... I WAS TRYING TO SURVIVE SINCE DAY 1 IN THE TRENCHES DEFENDING THIS GAME IT WAS ALWAYS GOOD AND DIDN'T NEED 10 YEARS TO AGE WELL. It's crazy how these are the same people who want another Kanto when Trubbish is Grimer (garbage waste) and Vanillite is Voltorb (based on literal items) then you could not catch any other pokemon from different regions in the main game. And the leak confirmed that the disgruntled hate from the west made the devs not release new pokemon in B2W2 and move them over to XY instead AND NOT GIVE A SINGLE GEN 5 MEGA EVOLUTION. So we were robbed because of genwunners who were fixated on the wrong things and ignored all the great content Unova brought us. It's strange how players keep complaining they want a different and fresh game, but want it to continue being super formulaic and binary like wtf do you want make up your mind

None of the switch titles really got me invested and I always end up replaying the older games but hopefully PLZA will break the curse and finally give us a nice game. Also why don't we have more spin-offs on the switch if there's so many of them floating around like the DS had a bunch??? STOP BEING COWARDS I WANT A POKEMON NINTENDOGS GAME OR THAT FIRE EMBLEM CROSSOVER WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET. I JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN AGAIN ;w;

[homoeroticgrappling]

"I'd like to address David Lynch has passed. That was a huge influence on Danhausen so I would be- (is remiss the right word? I don't know) if I did not say some words about him and his inspirations to Danhausen and I think a lot of you based on seeing how many posts have been posted about him that I didn't even know- and people he affected or inspired, it seemingly is everyone which is rightfully so because in a world that is purely sanitised garbage for the most part as far as art and movies and films and musics and all that go (seemingly at least), he was authentically himself, he was unapologetically himself- why would he apologize? He was weird but because it was authentically weird, weird is good. So. Danhausen obviously was inspired by his hair, Conan O'Brien of course, David Lynch, great beautiful heads of hair. You know, I would like to hopefully be able to leave the wrestling business eventually having known he inspired someone to be weird and authentically themselves as David inspired Danhausen partially to do so and all of that good stuff...

What I'm trying to say: be yourself. What is it, focus on that hole, the donut hole, and eat a donut. That's what he always said! So try to do that, be yourself, create arts, create music, do your performances, be yourself and you know... Hopefully we get a new batch of weirdos inspired in his world to create and innovate and inspire.

I stumbled a bunch on all my words but hopefully this kind of can get put in some type of combustible ball together and mesh, make sense in your brain. Then all of my mush mouthed words will spew out of my brain waves into your brain waves and inspire you to do something stupid and creative and also let's celebrate our living legends. Y'know like the Conan O'Briens, these brilliant minds who are themselves, and John Carpenters and John Waters and lets celebrate them while they're with us, it's wonderful! We're so lucky to be alive in this time where we got to experience the David Lynches and the Conan O'Briens and the John Carpenters and the Paul Reubens and the Elviras and the everyone- the John Waters, so y'know let's keep it up! We need it now more than ever to have cool and weird and gross and stupid and smart at the same time, that's something that Conan O'Brien said during his last performance on his television show, he found a way to blend a perfect melt of smart and stupid and I think that's very important to do. A part of what David Lynch has said too is there's that famous funny "meme" where it says can you elaborate [on] that and he says no and I think that's wonderful because oftentimes I get asked what Danhausen is.

I do not like to tell people because I think everyone should interpret themselves what I am to you, which is what he said about his art and his films is let you decide. If Danhausen is some type of greedy billionaire vampire to you, then that's what I am. If I'm some sort of greedy billionaire demon then that's what I am to you. If I am some sort of a handsome billionaire aristocat- well that's from a Disney film aristocrat that's the word I'm looking for- to you then that's what I am. So I will be anything you need me to be and what I am to you and how you connect with me, that is what I am. And I am what I am, that's all I am, Popeye. Alright anyways I've rambled on long enough, hopefully I again meshed these words well enough I probably did not, I stumbled I rambled, but we move on we move forward. Everyone be weird more now than ever. Yeah, I think that made sense."

Danhausen, in his latest vlog

[petitprincess1]

What critiques do you have of Hazbin? I'm wondering because I keep seeing a lot of criticism and hate towards it and I don't Wana get into something that's possible waste of time. Srry if thats rude

Dude, you're perfectly fine. I'm gonna keep it to like five points bc some things that I have problems with are mainly nitpicks. None of this, imo, is a dealbreaker for me. However, if it is for you, fair.

This is one that everyone has talked about and I fully agree with. The pacing is whiplash-inducing. I still do believe it's better than HB S1, but there is just so much information being thrown around that it's mind-boggling. The songs definitely help to slow things down a bit and introduce more info in an engaging, catchy way. However, I feel like there were some eps that either needed to come sooner or later in the series. I get they were fighting the clock, but still.

Lucifer and Charlie's relationship needed better explaining. Without going into spoilers, from what it felt like in the Pilot, it seemed like they were building up to something a bit more confrontational. I always figured Charlie possibly embellished Lucifer's words, but now it makes it feel like Charlie was talking to a completely different man. Someone that isn't even her father. Lu acts so much like Charlie, or vice versa, that it seems almost impossible to misinterpret his words.

NO FILLERS! The closest episode to a filler is the 3 ep, but even that brings up information and moves the plot along with key points. Now, that's not a bad thing entirely. It keeps you engaged. But this show very much lacks any breathing room. There's so much being thrown your way. Either things get overly talked about or not talked about enough. Which brings me to my next point-

The world-building is both fulfilling and empty. You do get a good sense of Heaven and Hell in this universe, especially Hell. You get an idea of the hierarchy and even some hypocrisy. However, we also don't really know how Heaven nor Hell operates. Like Lucifer appeared to be a shut-in. Yes, Lilith was the one inspiring demonkind, but what about when she disappeared? Is that why everything is garbage now? How much does Lucifer influence Hell? Where are the archangels? Was this conflict not important? Is there a "God" even in this show? What is Heaven's hierarchal system? There's so much being said, while also nothing being explained.

This one is the lowest for me bc I'm a bit torn on it. I've seen a few people complain about how the main characters are introduced as if you're supposed to know them. I didn't get this feeling, but I'm also a fan of Hazbin. I try to go in with a fairly "empty mind" so that I can view the material without rose-tinted glasses. However, it felt like some of the characters were given decent introductions at times. Idk. I'd like to know other's opinions on that.

Another one that I want to add is probably more diversity in the body sizes in the show. I'm not too worried about it bc Helluva Boss does a great job with body diversity, but Hazbin seems to be fairly stick and slender. But, again, I'm not too worried about it.

All in all, those are my biggest issues with the show. Like I said, none of these are dealbreakers, especially since we'll be getting a S2. Vivzie seems to listen to criticism, judging by the differences with HB S1 vs S2. So, I'm really hoping that we finally get to relax and actually get to know the characters more. Like, Adam shows the 7 Deadly Sins, while Charlie shows the 7 Virtues. I hope Adam isn't permanently dead bc I feel like this would be a good wake-up for him. He'll become the being that they were exterminating. But only time will tell.

Majority of this can be blamed on Prime and A24 for only giving them 8 episodes. I feel like either a longer run-time or more eps would've helped the show. Hopefully, they'll have learned from their mistakes in the next season.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Lonely Pt. 1

Pairing: Stranger Things x reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Warnings:

Summary: A few days after the zombie apocolypse took over Hawkins you lost everyone. Once you finally run out of supplies, you're forced to venture out into the town, hoping not to run into anyone and make it to safety alive. Unfortunately, life doesn't always go how you want it.

*Not Proof Read*

This Fic does not mention body type, weight, race, gender, etc. If I happened to mess up and add a pronoun or anything that could define the readers appearance, please let me know so I can fix it. Ty!

ABC List Stranger Things Master List

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

*****

People are evil. They truly. When things get rough the worst parts of us tend to leak out. Maybe it's from fear, maybe it's from adrenaline. Whatever it is, the worst parts of us tend to leak out, forever changing us.

Three days after the virus hit Hawkins my family was killed. A group of blood thirsty survivors tore through my parents' house, killing everyone. Well almost everyone.

I managed to get out. I'm not sure how, but I did. I ran until my lungs hurt. Until I felt like I would die if I kept going.

Flashes of Jason Carver, the athlete turned cold blooded survivalist leader, killing my parents running through my mind. The lack of emotions sent shivers down my spine. How can someone take the life of another and not feel anything? Not feel guilty or disgusting. Somehow the previous three days turned the cocky pretty boy into an emotionless killer.

The personality change is terrifying.

I managed to find a house away from the inner heart of Hawkins. Away from the people. Thankfully, whoever lived there left behind a good amount of food and water.

Unfortunately, food and water can only last so long. I knew this day would come. The day where surviving off of the pantries of nearby homes wouldn't be possible anymore.

Frankly, I'm not sure how I've made it 6 months on my own. I still struggle to kill the zombie things out there. I hide away whenever they come out, hoping they don't hear me move around.

I tuck the last few remaining bits of food into my backpack before pulling the heavy pack onto my shoulders. I do one last sweep around the house, making sure I have everything I need.

I tightly grip onto the kitchen knife in my hand. Hopefully I don't run into a hoard. There's no way in hell I could survive if I do.

I close the front door of the house I've been borrowing for the past half a year. I feel anxiety bubble up in my stomach. I'm scared. I can't deny it. What if I get bitten? Or kidnapped by Jason Carver's pack of assholes?

I have no choice.

The sound of crunching leaves beneath my feet and wind are the only sounds I hear as I step onto empty street. It's silent, the way it has been for months. The last time I heard something was when a small group of zombies wandered through the the neighborhood, managing to somehow stumble into every garbage can possible.

Any sign of human life is gone. The lack of animals is terrifying. Is everything dead? What if I'm the only person alive.

Will I be alone forever?

It's been hard being alone for so long. There's not much you can do when you're by yourself with no access to electricity or running water.

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss my fucking job. At least there I got to talk to people, even if it was a forced greeting.

I finally make it out of the neighborhood. Even though I haven't been this far out in months, I remember every road. I know exactly how to get to the center of town.

There has to be some place with food, right? There's no way Jason Carver could have gotten absolutely everything.

As I pass another neighborhood, I immediately spot the smashed in doors. Windows are shattered and belongings from inside and thrown around the yard. People have raided here.

In a weird way it gives me some sort of hope. Maybe there are people besides Jason and his friends that are alive. Maybe they'll help me.

Not everyone can be evil, right?

Not everyone is a murderer.

A few cars litter the roads, rotting people sitting inside. Some have turned and others are still, their bodies decomposing.

I finally make it to the entrance of main street. All of the surrounding buildings are smashed in. I pass a four car crash in the center of the road, dried blood staining all around.

The loud sound of groans fills my ears. A shiver runs through my back.

There's a zombie somewhere out here.

I turn onto a nearby street and immediately regret my decision. Dozens of zombies wander around the street.

" Fuck. " I mumble, fear crawling it's way towards my throat.

The heads of the zombies snap towards me, their dead grey eyes piercing into my body like a knife.

They have fucking super hearing or some shit. I'm fucked. I'm fucked.

I quickly turn to run down the street. The sounds of shuffling feet follows behind me. They're not super fast, but there's no way I'd be able to run for miles with them behind me. If I stop running they'd easily catch up.

Clenching the knife in my hand, I run as I fast I can off of main street. Maybe I can make it back to the house? Fuck fuck!

Fuck me. The side road is blocked by another group of zombies. My old neighbors, people I used to talk to every day, quickly turn their hungry eyes on me.

I'm so screwed.

I have two fucking hoards behind me.

I turn onto another street, hoping there's not another group on this street.

I'm so caught up in panic that I don't register the sound of a speeding car and gun shots.

A brown and white van speeds in front of me. The door opens as it quickly halts to a stop a few feet in front of me.

" Get in! " The man yells. His eyes trained on the group behind me. In his hands is a large shot gun.

I hesitate. What if this guy fucking kills me?

" Earth to girl, get in the fucking van! " Another man in the drivers seat yells, shooting the pistol in his dirty hands.

Fuck it, being killed by them might hurt less than being eaten alive.

I scramble into the van, immediately noticing the pile of tools and weapons laying around.

The man at the van door slams it shut. He clutches onto the back of the passenger seat in front of him as the driver speeds down the street. He turns his attention to me, immediately raising his gun towards me when the van stops jumping around.

I push myself against the van wall, fear coursing through my veins. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should've just gotten eaten. " Please don't hurt me! " I keep the knife in front of me, hoping it'll help somehow.

Who am I kidding, a fucking knife won't save me from shit.

" Drop the knife. " The man grunts. His face is covered by a short beard. His long frizzy hair is tied back into a bun, his head covered with a battered hat. A small scar runs down the left side of his face, near his eyebrow. His eyes look familiar but I can't quite place it.

Deciding it's probably best if I listen, I carefully set down the knife. " Okay, okay. " My breath is shaky.

" Check for bites. " The guy up front barks, glancing back at us from the rear view mirror. His skin is covered in splotches of dirt and grime, his eyes are covered with a pair of dark sunglasses. His hair however, reminds me of someone; Steve Harrington. It's neatly put up, only a few stray strands framing his face.

I don't have time to question the looks of the man up front before the guy holding a shotgun speaks to me.

" Show me your arms and legs. "

I don't hesitate to shrug off my bag and jacket. I pull up the ends up my sleeves, turning my arms back and forth before pulling up my jeans. I let out a small wince when I notice a large gash on my ankle. I have no idea where I got this. Maybe I scraped it against something? "

" Where did you get that? " The shotgun man asks, nodding down to my leg.

" I have no idea. I had no idea I was bleeding. "

" Tie them, E. " The man up front says nonchalantly.

My eyes widen. " What? But I haven't been bitten! I swear to god, I haven't been bitten. I-I'll take everything off and show you! " I offer, terrified about what these men are going to do to me.

Guilt flashes in the shot gun holding guys' eyes. " Look, until we know you're not dangerous or infected, we can't take any risks. If you're clear, you'll be out of this in no time. " The guy pulls a handful of zipties from his pocket. " Please give me your hands. "

I hesitantly hand his my hands, seeing no way out of this.

The guy quickly ties my hands and ankles before putting anything sharp in my reach in a locked box. He pulls a small red bag out of the box and scoots towards me.

I try to scoot further into the corner of the van, tucking my arms into my body.

The guy notices. " I'm not going to hurt you. " He pulls out a Band-Aid. " I'm gonna clean your cut up. If it's not infected with the virus, it's going to get infected by some other shit. The last thing you need is an fucked up leg. " His tone is slightly softer than it was a few minutes ago.

I allow him to take a look at my ankle. His cold hands pull my ankles onto his lap before he begins cleaning up my cut. The anti bacterial wipe stings but not bad enough to cause me to wince.

" Good news is it's not deep. Probably a branch or wire that scraped you. "

I take this opportunity to study the mans face. Small dark bags rest under his brown eyes. Over grown bangs droop past his eyes, pushes aside by him every once in a while.

Up closer I notice the shirt he's wearing. It's covered in dirt and blood, making it nearly impossible to tell it was once white. My eyes trace the familiar design. The Hellfire Club.

I was never apart of it, but I'd heard of it. I'd thought about joining back in high school but I was too scared. I worried they wouldn't let me play since I'd be the only girl in the group or think I wasn't good enough to join. I let my fears get the best of me.

" Eddie Munson? " I ask, my eyes looking up at the mans' face.

His eyes meet mine, widening in confusion. " Yeah? "

A little bit of relief fills my chest. I was never friends with Eddie, but I'd worked on a couple of assignments with him growing up. He was always kind and for the most part, did his part of the project. I'm not exactly sure why he got held back. He was smart, he just didn't seem to want to put in the hard work needed to graduate. It was like he didn't believe in himself.

" I'm Y/N. You probably don't remember me, it was so long- " I'm cut off by him.

" From world civ! " His lips curl into a small smile. " I remember you. "

My heart jumps a little. I'd always had a small crush on the dark haired boy. He was one of the reasons I wanted to join Hellfire. He'd talk about it sometimes during our projects, making it sound so fun.

" Is that Steve Harrington? " I ask, glancing to the driver.

" It's me. " Steve replies, his eyes not leaving the road. " Sorry, I don't think I remember you, Y/N. "

I nod. " I was 3 years older than you so we never really crossed paths. " I feel slightly more safe knowing I at least semi know the people I'm with. " Did we lose the zombies? "

" Yeah we lost them a while back. " Steve nods, his eyes glancing back at the rear view mirror every once in a while. " We're going to need to stop for gas soon, Eddie. "

" Fuck. " Eddie sighs. " Of course we are. "

" Should've filled the tank up when I told you. " Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie finishes bandaging up my ankle before gently fixing the positioning of the ties around it. " I was busy grabbing bullets. "

The van pulls to a stop and Steve shuts off the engine, making sure to take the keys out of the ignition. " Grab the tube. "

Eddie grabs a small bag. A small tube pokes out of the top of it, quickly disappearing when Eddie shoves it down. " We'll be back. " He reassures me before opening the back doors and jumping out.

I quietly lean against the van wall.

" Let's just cut them free. " Eddie's voice is muffled slightly .

" No fucking way, Eddie. I know you know them, but we still have to follow protocol. We keep them tied for at least a week. Until we know they aren't infected. Besides, we don't even know if they're dangerous. They could slit our fucking throats and steal our supplies. " Steve's voice is stern.

Eddie sighs. " They wouldn't do that. I know they would- "

" When was the last time you saw them, Eddie? High school? It doesn't sound like you guys were friends when they graduated. I'm pretty sure you'd be able to recognize them faster if you were. " Steve points out.

" Well, yeah but they're a good person. They wouldn't do that shit. " Eddie defends me, making my heart jump a little.

My stupid fucking crush is back.

" It's been years Eddie. You don't know them. It's been 6 months since shit hit the fan. People change, especially after all the crap that's been going on. They probably aren't the same person they were years ago. Look, nobody's going to hurt them. We just have to keep the ties on until with get back to the lab. "

Eddie gives up arguing. The two return and Eddie tosses the bag on top of the tool box. The van slightly fills with the scent of gasoline as Eddie and Steve close the doors. The source being the tube.

Steve rolls down the front windows, letting air filter through the van.

Eddie sits across from me, his shot gun next to him. " We're going to help you. " He reassures me. " We just can't risk that you aren't infected. As soon as we're sure you can get those off. " He glances down at the zip ties.

I nod. " I understand. Thank you for saving me. "

Eddie smiles. " Of course. Couldn't just let you die out there. " He leans back against the van wall, crossing his arms. " We've got a bit of a ride, sit back and relax. "

[shibazoid]

Legacy of Manwich {1.2} London, France, Etc.

Last time, King Martin beefed hard finding a girlfriend so now he's inflicting his manmeat on the general populace. Wonder how that worked out for him?

King Martin: "I've never seen so many women in one place!"

Me either, considering strip clubs in the Sims 2 always seem to be filled with creepy men or literal infants. You see anybody you like, Marty?

King Martin: "Now that you mention it..."

King Martin: "HOMINA HOMINA! AWOOOGA!" *smacks lips*

YOUR SEDUCTION TECHNIQUE IS UNPARALLELED

WOW I'M SO SHOCKED THAT DIDN'T WORK!

King Martin: "Yeouch, maybe I'll have better luck at the gas station."

At the where now?

King Martin: "You can find all kinds of things here!"

Yeah, like sexually transmitted diseases and disappointing breakfast burritos. You're not gonna find the woman of your dreams here.

WAIT, IS THAT THE BITCH FROM YOUR DAYDREAMS? DID YOU WILL HER INTO EXISTENCE?

Romana: "No, this is just where I get my hair done."

King Martin: "Hey, baby, you know what me and the Sun have in common?"

Romana: "... That you're both hot?"

King Martin: "No, that you'll go blind if you stare at us too long."

(Seriously, this is SO BLOWN OUT!)

Guy: "WOWEE GET A LOAD OF THIS VIRGIN"

Could you back off his asshole, please? Can't you see he is successfully courting a woman for the first time in his life?

Your tulpa sucks, Martin. She's not even looking at you. I'm reasonably sure she's swooning over other women.

MARTIN STOP PROPOSITIONING LESBIANS FOR SEX AND FEAST YOUR CRETINOUS LITTLE EYES ON THIS MEGA HOTTIE!!!

Woman: "Actually, I'm a prostitute hired to deflower this turbo virgin."

Shhh, no, this is destiny! Think of your future as a trophy wife!

Woman: "Hey, handsome, wanna have consensual sex?"

King Martin: "UGH GOD GROSS NO!!!"

King Martin: "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

Martin I'm gonna fucking neuter you

Oh so you're just going for it, huh? In this most romantic of places?

King Martin: "Are you an angel? 'Cause I wanna get you pregnant."

Romana: "I... uh, what?"

Some kid named Agamemnom?: "WEE WOO WEE WOO CREEPER ALERT!"

King Martin: "I don't need this shit I'm going to the bathroom! >:("

Cowboy: "Mind if I join you?"

King Martin: "What?? No!! Get out of here!"

RAM RANCH IS UNDER SIEGE

UNDER LOCKDOWN

King Martin: "Now I can shit in peace."

God you're not even gonna put toilet paper down??

Cowboy: "I'M BACK BITCH.... AND I BROUGHT A FRIEND!"

What the... fuck????

Weeb: "Konnichiwa!"

Nothing like the lingering scent of fecal matter to bring cultures together.

What is this fucking cosplay convention bullshit happening before my very eyes?

Romana: "He was right, I did actually end up going blind."

Twink Lincoln: "Thank God you're back!"

NO MORE COSTUMES, GET OUT OF MY YARD

Very many days go by and Martin is still a kissless virgin, not to mention he's having a hell of a time keeping his aspiration up. Why can't you want anything career related? Why does is all have to be two-thousand dollar stereos and other expensive garbage?

King Martin: "I guess I want to kiss someone!"

There we go. Let's go to the pub, buddy. Maybe beer goggles will improve your chances.

*WHUNK*

Can you stop letting this guy bully the shit out of you?

This adorable lady was here, and she and Martin really hit it off!

Just kidding. You think this guy could ever succeed at anything?

King Martin: *sssSSNNIIIIIFFFFFFF*

I need a break from you. Hopefully you'll find a bride in the next one. Bye for now!

[viisoul]

MAKE IT UP TO YOU!

{dom!sanemi , sub!reader , degrading , overstimulation , use of the word ‘bitch’ , choking , modern au.}

when y/n’s new pair of shoes are ruined because of her clumsiness enemy, her enemy is forced to apologize and make it up to her, but it seems to go a little further than just that.

"you fucking asshole!"

"oh, shut up, you whiny bitch!"

"you ruined my shoes! i hope you die!"

"shut the hell up! the shoes were ugly anyway!"

y/n l/n, the forever enemy of sanemi shinazugawa, was currently fuming because of his clumsy actions. y/n was always a spoiled daddy's girl since birth. her dad bought her anything and everything she wanted. he was filthy rich, after all. she lived in a huge mansion with a huge bedroom just for her. she'd always gotten the latest designer clothes or bags, and the newest shoes.

today was yet another day in college, y/n and sanemi arguing over every little thing. however, it was lunchtime. sanemi doesn't usually eat lunch food, so he just got a red fanta out of the vending machine. unfortunately for y/n, she was walking towards sanemi and she hadn't realized it.

the poor girl bumped into him, the red drink spilling all over her brand new white shoes and her outfit. though, she was more concerned about her shoes.

"you shut up! i think they're cute! you just don't have any fashion sense, you tacky motherfucker!"

as sanemi was about to say something else, his eyes shifted over to his friends before he spoke. "tsk. you're embarrassing me. i don't have time for you."

sanemi purposely bumped her shoulder before walking over to his small group of friends, as she walked off to the bathroom to clean off her shoes as much as she could.

when y/n made it to the bathroom, she sighed lowly. she put soap on a tissue and wet it, scrubbing her shoes roughly. although y/n was spoiled, she was very appreciative. she was happy with anything her dad gave her. it'd hurt her deeply to know that the thing that was given to her from one of the only people that actually loves her had gotten messed up.

she exhaled, throwing her head back as she let the shoes fall from her hands and onto the ground. despite scrubbing as much as she could, there was still a reddish pink color on her shoes. now she had to deal with the embarrassment of walking around with dirty shoes. hopefully bleach would do the trick when she got home.

y/n slipped her shoes back on, throwing the napkins away in the garbage before walking out. as she walked out, she saw sanemi leaning against the wall next to the boy's bathroom.

"what are you doing, you creep?" she murmured.

sanemi pushed himself off of the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"tsk. i already don't wanna do this."

"do what?" she stared at him in confusion.

"look, i'm sorry. okay? i'm sorry about messing your shoes up." his cheeks were tinted with the reddest color possible, and his expression showed his embarrassment.

"oh? sanemi's apologizing for once?" she teased.

"shut up!" he hissed. "if you want, i can... make it up to you."

she paused. "...who's telling you to do this?"

"shino— nobody! i'm doing this on my own! now, do you want me to make it up to you or not?"

"um... how?"

"i'll take you out to dinner—, to your favorite restaurant."

"ha! unless you're planning to spend a couple hundred dollars at least, i think not."

"...whatever. it doesn't matter. so, do you wanna go or not?"

"um... sure." she replied quietly, thinking that if she said that, it'd change his mind.

"give me your number. i'll pick you up at six." he held his hand out, expecting her phone.

after exchanging numbers, y/n left to go home early with her dad. she ranted to her father, who was off of work that day, for what felt like hours on end about sanemi. her father could only awkwardly listen to her as she paced around the spacious living room.

y/n's father was used to listening to her rants. especially about sanemi. he'd suggested switching schools, yet, for some reason, she always insisted on staying.

"his dumb white hair and those ugly scars all over his disgusting face—! i hate him!" she groaned, holding her head in her hands.

"listen, sweetheart, i'll just buy you another pair."

she sighed. "daddy, that's not the point. he ruined my shoes on purpose!"

"mmh. did he apologize...?"

"w-well, yeah. he said he'd take me out as an apology..." she said lowly. "it's not something he always does."

"maybe he finally realized what he did wrong." her father smiled, though, on the inside, he was raging.

how dare someone as poor as him make his sweet baby girl so angry like that?! he was just as furious as she was, if not worse. he wanted to pounce on sanemi as soon as he got the chance.

"okay, fine." she exhaled.

"where's he taking you out at?"

"i don't know. he said he would take me out to my favorite restaurant—, but you already know it costs a couple hundred."

he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "that boy... i'm gonna have to give him a good talking to."

"what time is it?"

he checked his watch. "five thirty."

"ah! he said he was gonna pick me up at six!" she rushed to leave the living room, hurriedly going to her bedroom.

she looked through her huge walk-in closet, looking for a dress that wasn't too over the top, yet fancy enough. she wore a tight black dress with a slit going up to her thigh, that had a black belt with her first initial in gold on it, laced with small diamonds. the dress had spaghetti straps and was quite low in the chest area. she'd also worn some black heels to go with her dress.

for her accessories, she wore some expensive gold hoop earrings and one necklace that had a famous brand on it. lastly, a gold tennis bracelet and her watch.

she then put on a small amount of makeup, having the thoughts of impressing no one—, not even sanemi... maybe just a little. she glossed her lips and stared at herself in her vanity. y/n couldn't help but take a picture and post it.

"y/n!" hearing the loud calling of her name, she stood up. she checked her watch, seeing it was already six fifteen. she was fifteen minutes late

the boy had just arrived at y/n's house, and god, was he shocked. he knew she was rich and all, but to live in such a large house? he'd almost thought she lived in a castle. he whistled as he got out of the car.

sanemi then walked up to her porch, which that alone was big.

he rang the doorbell.

not long after, her father came out. his eyes were practically piercing into sanemi's soul. sanemi swallowed thickly.

"hi—." his voice cracked. he then cleared his throat. "hello, sir. i'm here for y/n."

"why are you here for my daughter?"

"to take her out."

"on a date? so, you think you're worthy enough for her?"

"uh... it's not really a date. i'm just— making something up to her."

"you messed up her brand new shoes, didn't you? the ones that cost more than you could ever afford?"

sanemi clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, deciding not to respond.

"however, not many people would do this for someone they dislike. i appreciate it. i'll handle getting her another pair, just make her happy tonight. you understand?"

"yes, sir."

in an instant, her father grabbed sanemi's collar, pulling him close to him.

"and you better have her back home by nine. even one minute later than that and you're gonna get a piece of my mind. i want her here like she was before she left. i may not be here by nine, but i have cameras everywhere outside and inside of the house besides her room and a gps on her phone. if she comes back pissed off like she did today, you better fucking believe your life will be over and you'll see the rusty gates of hell. you hear me?"

"y-yeah, i hear ya." he muttered, nodding his head slowly.

"y/n!"

after her father called her name, the girl rushed down the stairs and to the front door. the sound of her heels clicking against the floor indicated that she was close. the clumsy girl bumped into her father's back, rubbing her nose.

"ouch..." she muttered. "sorry, dad."

"mmh. it's fine."

she stepped away from him, standing right in sanemi's view. sanemi could feel his cheeks grow hot upon seeing her.

"hi, sanemi."

"hey, y/n."

"well, i guess we should hurry and go now. i know my dad has some type of curfew for me."

"yeah, nine pm. any later than that, sanemi. remember what i told you."

"yes, sir. i'll bring her back by nine."

"good. that's what i like to hear. now, let's see if you'll make it happen."

the man then kissed his daughter's cheek, hugging her side.

"love you."

she giggled. "i love you too, dad."

she walked off with sanemi, as her dad watched her leave.

sanemi opened the door for her, and then went inside of the car himself. she looked through the tinted windows, watching as her dad closed the front door.

"sanemi,"

"huh?"

"honestly, i'm not that hungry. if i ever do get hungry, i could just go for a fast food restaurant on the way home."

"what are you implying?"

"i don't wanna go out to eat. i wanna do something fun."

"like?"

"let's go to a club." she grinned.

"hold on, your dad has a gps on your phone. what if you get in trouble? no, wait, i'm gonna get in trouble."

"oh—, come on. don't be such a pussy."

"i'm not being a pussy. if you think i'm gonna get in trouble because you wanna get drunk and party your ass off, you're thinking wrong."

"you're so lame."

sanemi rolled his eyes. "fine."

"there's one across the street from my favorite restaurant. it's less expensive, too. on ******* street."

"oh... that one."

"hm? you been there before?"

"yeah, once. it was fun, i guess."

she smiled. "well, come on! let's go!"

—

as the two arrived, they were greeted by the blaring music, colorful flashing lights, and people talking loudly. she grasped his hand, pulling him over to the bar.

when he sat down, he stared at her confusedly.

"i wanna have a couple drinks before we party, 'kay?" y/n said, taking off her jewelry and placing it inside of her purse.

"i didn't know you were a drinker."

"i don't do it much. i just have two or three before i stop. it's pretty rare of me to drink anyway."

"so, what's with the change now?"

"i just wanna have fun. take this night as a night to forget about what happened today, i guess."

he sat there quietly, lips pursed together as he stared at her. whatever this swelling feeling was in his chest, he wanted to get rid of it immediately.

when the bartender took their orders and gave them their drinks, they had a quite nice conversation with each other. honestly, the two realized they weren't as bad as they'd thought. however, they were only convincing themselves that it was just the drinks getting to their heads.

after y/n's third drink, she let out a relieved sigh.

"that was good. you drunk yet, sanemi?"

"i should be asking you that... but no. i'm nowhere near drunk."

"okay, let's go party, then!" she grinned, running off to the dance floor.

he paid and tipped the bartender, rushing after her. sanemi grasped her shoulders, stopping her where she was before she could get any further.

"calm down! at least wait for me."

"okay, sorry. come on."

she walked with his hands on her shoulder towards the dance floor in the huge crowd of people. she then grabbed one of his hands, bringing him in front of her. the smile on y/n's face made sanemi's heart flutter. he shook his head.

he was embarrassed to be seen with y/n, being that she was dancing nonstop to the loud music. he just stood there awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest.

"sanemi~!" y/n groaned. "you're being lame again!"

"uh? how?"

"why aren't you dancing?"

"i don't dance."

"okay—? no one's gonna judge you if you try."

"no."

"please?"

"absolutely not."

"i'm not having fun if you won't dance with me!"

"oh, well."

"i'll tell my dad."

"okay, okay! how am i supposed to dance?"

"want me to show you?"

"um? how're you gonna do that?"

"just do whatever your mind tells you to do, 'kay?"

"what do you m—?" his cheeks began to get red as he watched the girl stand in front of him, the slight contact of her hips on his his making his adam's apple bob when he swallowed. "w-what're you doing?!"

she laughed. "dancing, duh!"

she danced in front of him, their bodies touching and grinding against each others. sanemi could only awkwardly try to follow what she did. feeling her pressing against his dick made him horny, however. he wasn't thinking about dancing.

he was getting turned on, and so was she. she could feel his hardness pressing against her inner thighs. sanemi moved his hand down, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him. they followed each other's movements, enjoying the fun of dancing until he moved his hands down a little too far.

"y-you—! stop, you dickhead!" she turned around, glaring daggers at the boy.

"mm? you don't like it?"

"we— we're in public...!" she stammered, not wanting to admit that she did, in fact, enjoy it.

feeling sanemi's big bulge in between her thighs made her even more turned on.

"so... you do like it?"

she crossed her arms, refusing to answer.

he could only smile arrogantly. "you do."

sanemi grabbed her leg, placing it on his hip. she struggled to keep her balance, but he kept his hand on her waist.

"what time is it?" he muttered.

"it's only seven..."

"mmh. you wanna go back to your place?"

"huh— why? we've barely even been here!"

that cocky grin on his face told her exactly why. she swallowed the knot in her throat, smiling right along with him. she put her arms around his neck and brought him in closer.

"you wanna fuck me?" she asked him.

"hell yeah."

she pursed her lips together. sanemi removed her arms from around his neck, grasping her hand as he walked out of the club.

—

stumbling inside of her room, sanemi kicked it closed without departing his lips from hers. he pushed her against the wall roughly, items on her shelves rattling and some even falling over. he groaned, hands roaming up her dress. the mere contact of his cold fingertips on her skin was enough to get a moan out of her.

he pulled away from her, unzipping her dress. he gave her a look before gradually tugging it down. she stepped out of it, kicking it elsewhere. sanemi unclasped y/n's bra, letting it fall from her shoulders. his calloused hands immediately grasped onto her breasts, kissing her once more. she let out a dragged-out whine at the feeling of his fingers pinching at her nipples.

he moved his lips down her jawline and her neck, sucking on her skin harshly. his teeth scraped at her delicate skin as he bit on it, the flat of his tongue pressing against the spot he'd bitten. she could feel herself getting wet at his touch, getting more turned on than before.

"sanemi—," she choked out, instinctively placing her hand on his chest. "let's go to the bed."

he then scooped her up in his arms, walking over to her bed. he dropped her down, her eyes widening in surprise as she stared at sanemi's expression. y/n's lips curled into a nervous grin as she sat up, only to have him crawl on top of her.

he grasped her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

"you havin' second thoughts?" he raised an eyebrow.

"w-what—? hell no."

"mmh. thought you'd chicken out."

"i'd never. even if i did, you probably already came in your pants from just kissing me." she said with an arrogant grin on her face.

"oh, is that right?" he smirked, looking down at her bare chest before staring into her eyes.

she nodded. he roughly pressed his lips against hers once more, the two falling back onto the bed. she wrapped her arms around his neck. he moved his hand down her abdomen and between her legs. he played around with her underwear, leaning back down to kiss her.

before he could, she spoke up.

"go on, take them off. you know you want to."

hearing her words, sanemi unabashedly ripped her panties off, throwing them across the room. he dipped down to kiss her, spreading her legs out wide. he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, rushing to get his garments off.

he pulled his pants down, palming his erection through his boxers. he ogled at her rather vulnerable figure, grinning to himself.

"you're kinda hot."

"yeah, i know." she replied. "y'gonna fuck me with your eyes or?"

"nah, i'm gonna fuck your brains out."

"i'd sure like to see it."

"oh, you're gonna see it." he began pulling his boxers down, only for her to grasp his wrist. he raised an eyebrow, confused at her actions. "what?"

"can you uhm—... take your shirt off?" she muttered, eyes trailing off elsewhere.

he hummed, unbuttoning his shirt. he let his shirt fall from his shoulders and down on her bed. she stared at his abs and the scars going across his chest. it was so hot. she could barely keep her composure.

"yeah, i know." he repeated her words. "don't cum yet, i haven't even put my dick in you."

she rolled her eyes. "uh-huh, okay."

sanemi pulled his boxers down, his dick springing out and tapping against his abdomen. digging in the pocket of his pants, he pulled out a condom. she watched as he opened it, getting ready to slide it on. she could only grin, giggling at him.

"what's funny?" he asked, grasping his cock in his hands.

"you were planning this, huh? i'm that irresistible?"

his eye twitched. "shut up."

"make me."

sanemi grabbed one of her legs, holding it up so he could align himself with her entrance. he pushed himself in without a second thought, a loud squeal coming from her mouth. she covered her lips with her hands, staring up at him. the two locked eyes, a cocky grin growing on his face. he laughed derisively, sending a light slap to her thigh as he shoved himself in deeper.

"ha! you should see the look on your face right now!"

"s-shut the fuck up!" she said, her voice slurring and a string of expletives coming from her as he began moving his hips back and forth.

he chuckled, mocking the noise she made. feeling her clench around him, he groaned and picked his pace up. she grasped onto the sheets, feeling pure bliss at how deep he was inside of her. he didn't hesitate to touch all over her, grasping onto one of her tits while his other hand was tightly holding onto her thigh.

he bent down, kissing her lips sensually. she moaned into it, her stomach getting butterflies once he forced his tongue in her mouth. their tongues pressed together, mixing their saliva with each other's as he relentlessly thrusted into her.

pulling away, he stared her in her eyes while he began to speak. "y'like me fuckin' this slutty pussy? hm?"

y/n nodded absentmindedly, the feeling of her being pounded against the bed by sanemi much better than she'd ever imagined.

"use your words, bitch."

she choked out a 'yes', her eyes beginning to roll back. his hand suddenly went around her neck, squeezing it tightly, but not enough to hurt her. the feeling of sanemi's rough hand around her throat was turning her on even more.

y/n would have never thought she'd be in a position where sanemi was fucking her brains out.

"s-sanemi," she mumbled.

"what?" he asked, the pace of his thrusts not ceasing.

"rub my clit." she said.

"you really are a dirty slut." he said with a laugh, moving his free hand down so he could find her clit.

once he did, it was like paradise for y/n. he was balls deep inside of her, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow while he choked her, called her names, and added more stimulation by rubbing on her clit.

she was a moaning mess, whining and practically screaming his name and several different curse words.

"it feels good, yeah?" he asked her, slightly panting.

her eyes were squinted shut and her face was a bit scrunched, biting down on her lower lip.

"yeah—!" she nodded quickly.

"you're a whore for me, right?" he circled his fingers faster on her clit, making her whimper loudly.

"mhm~!"

"say it." he tightened his grasp on her neck, making her chest raise.

"fuck, i'm a whore for you! i'm a slutty little whore just for you!"

"that's what i like to hear, bitch." he let out a throaty groan, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. he stared down at her, seeing how vulnerable she was just for him.

she heaved a short, yet rough exhale. "sanemi!"

"what is it?"

"m-make me cum, please." she blurted out.

"mmh? you wanna cum on my dick? is that what you wanna do, bitch?"

"yes!"

"don't worry, i'm gonna make you cum, whore. more than once, too."

"d-do it then."

and so, sanemi was like a monster. he made her bed rock back and forth, creaking as it tapped against the wall with his movements. he'd also successfully made her scream and claw at him for mercy. it was quite a sight for sore eyes, if someone were to ask him.

moving his fingers around her cunt, he gathered some of her wetness on his fingertips and continued rotating them at a face pace. it was then he let go of her neck, holding one of her legs up close to her chest. it was then he'd hit a whole new spot, making y/n's back arch.

"oh, god, sanemi! t-there, right there! m'gonna cum!"

"right here? that's what you want? you want me to fuck you just like this? yeah?" he questioned her with a grin, thrusting into her pussy harder. it'd created a squelching sound, along with the sound of their wet skin clapping together.

she yelled out a curse, sanemi tensing up as she clenched around him. he grunted, slowing his quite animalistic pace and staring down at her. she breathed heavily, covering her eyes with her arm.

"holy shit." she muttered. "that was so—..."

"it felt good, didn't it?" he laughed.

"very."

"i could say the same with you... but we're not done yet." narrowing her eyebrows, she moved her arm away from her eyes and stared at his cock that was still rock hard.

she swallowed thickly, a smile growing on her face. she didn't mind. nodding her head, she spread her legs once more, welcoming him for a second round.

—

y/n's hands rested on sanemi's shoulders as she bounced mindlessly on his dick, her head thrown back to give him space to kiss on her neck. his hands were grasping on her ass and he couldn't help but laugh at how worn out she was.

she was so sensitive, she'd orgasmed several times that she lost count. honestly, she'd probably gotten all of her hate for him fucked away. she let out a drawn out moan, biting her lower lip.

she rolled her hips against his, going so slow so she could calm herself.

"sanemi~." she slurred. "it hurts... i can't take it anymore."

"you can. you can take it." he mumbled against her skin, leaving yet another mark. "i think you just need help."

"then help me, dumbass." she said, stopping her movements.

tightening his grip on her skin, he began bouncing her up and down on top of him more roughly, and she could only whine at how sensitive she was. it hurt so bad, but the pain felt great.

pressing her lips against his, she moved her hand down in between her legs and began rubbing her cunt unrelentingly. they shared a sloppy, yet slow kiss, both of them getting tired and ready to finish things off for the night.

their lips smacked together as sanemi moved his hands off of her, hoping she'd take the lead. curses slipped from her mouth as her eyes were shut closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and beads of sweat fell down her body. their chests would press and stick together as they leaned in closer to each other.

they were unable to resist one another's touch. he hummed, moving her hand away from in between her legs. she opened her eyes, watching as he licked her fingers, soon sucking on them. her eyes widened, her stomach tingling.

"tastes so good." he muttered, tensing up and groaning. "keep riding, baby. i think i'm close."

her heart fluttered at the name, but she nodded and continued moving her hips so slowly, but in a way that felt so good. her moans were like music to his ears, so melodic, and not the mention how good she rode him. he knew that after this, no one could compare to her.

staring at her figure, he saw one hand down on her bed while the other gradually massaged her cunt at the same pace as her riding. her eyes were closed and her lips were pressed together, so concentrated on getting him to reach his climax.

he exhaled, feeling his orgasm creep up on him. he groaned, catching his lip between his teeth. he cursed, feeling his cum spurt into the condom. she smiled, reaching her own with a soft, drawn out whine.

they panted, y/n's hand going on top of his. she leaned her forehead against his, kissing him gently as she slowly inched off of him. he caressed her face, deepening their kiss. it felt so romantic and meaningful.

sanemi sucked on her bottom lip before they pulled away with a smack of their lips, y/n falling onto her bed. she stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. it was then that sanemi sighed, staring up along with her.

"y'know, your dad's gonna fucking murder me?"

"yeah... i know." she mumbled. "good luck."

♡

[imtrashraccoon]

Blog Update.

Thinking of updating my master post again and condensing it. Until then, I have updated my blog description and banner. I may look into something more custom at some point but it depends if I can find an artist I like who does them.

In other news, I've been following a controversy in the fandom for about a week and so I'm going to say this hopefully only once.

If you ship minors of any age, but especially with adults, you aren't welcome here. I don't support pedophilia. It is disgusting and I believe minors should be protected from interacting with that sort of foul garbage.

If you support any kind of incest, you aren't welcome here. It is wrong and disgusting. I don't want to see that.

If you disrespect, harass, bully, or otherwise purposely try to hurt someone, you aren't welcome here.

I do my best to stay far away from ugly stuff like this but unfortunately this is the internet and those creatures can hide under anonymity. I will block you if I find out you support or engage in the above topics.

This blog and fandom is my comfort space. It's where I go to engage with amazing people who share my love for Toby's amazing characters. So please, don't ruin this for me.

If you have questions about any of these things, I don't mind having a civil conversation with you. Please be respectful though. I am only human and I make mistakes. If I need to clarify something, please let me know.

Stay safe lovelies!