#that's fine but Jesus was a carpenter you know
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theladyhibiscus · 9 months ago
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Not me as somebody who crochets on the reg getting criticisms/unwanted comments about everything I make:
"You always use the same colors" :/
Me: can't help it I'm a thalassophile and therefore I must always use beige, khaki, turquoise, teal, aqua blues, whites of all shades. Let the coastal creations commence!
"Nice bag. You know, that looks perfect to use only for holidays like Easter"
Me: ...my coastal bag is to be used every time I feel like it. What are you talking about.
"Those oceanic colors don't match with your current outfit so don't use it."
Me: it's not about what looks nice TO YOU but what feels right and fun to use FOR ME.
"Why don't you add (whatever) to your creation. It'd look great if you add (whatever). And, how about next time, you actually use a leather bag bottom instead?"
Me: I don't want to.
"You sure can't take a comment or a slight criticism. Why are you like this?" :/
Me: you sure can't mind your business.
"Why are you doing 2 projects at once. Finish one and start the other I don't get it."
Me: oh you sweet summer child ohohoho...you just don't understand the mind of a crocheter do ya?
"You know, if you make something for somebody it sure won't be coastal themed or whatever. You have to try something different."
Me: who said I'm making anyone ANYTHING? They don't want to pay the correct price for a hand-made creation so that won't be happening. Anyway, ONTO THE COASTAL THEMED SCARF!
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webbluvrsugar · 4 months ago
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Lie To Girls — Spencer Reid x exbau!reader
slightly based on the song sharpest tool by Sabrina Carpenter but it’s more like the song would fit them right (love me some angst, had to do it.)
cw: angst with fluff at the end, no use of y/n, passes a little bit after JJ confessed her feelings for Spencer. - this isn’t a jj slander, only serves for context.
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Spencer sweared to you he was over JJ. The blonde had just confessed her feelings for him in a case, and really, you guys used to be fine, at least until he found out his crush of years actually liked him all this time that passed, that he could’ve had a chance all this time if there was no miss communication between them. God, he didn’t even want to tell you, not that he was afraid with the way you’d react but that he knew it was… wrong, in some way, it was. You took it pretty well, but then he confessed he’d been thinking about it more than usual and that just wouldn’t cut it. Which led to the both of you arguing in the living room of his apartment.
“I — I don’t know what you want!” You shout, a mess of tears, he’s been trying to explain that he didn’t really mean anything he said previously. “Sure, you had a chance, but am I not enough?”
It breaks Spencer’s heart to see you like this — so emotionally distressed because of something he said, something stupid and reckless, and it doesn’t seem like it will get better soon.
“No, I’ve.. I’ve never said that, you’re more than enough to me, I just thought—“ he tries to speak, but he’s cut off by you.
“Thought what?” You take a step closer, you’re so sad that he wishes you hadn’t done that. “She’s married! Jesus — she has kids!” You sniff, his head clenches.
“I know.” He admits, ashamed, head hung low.
“I don’t know what happened between you two but there’s no way of fixing it!” Your words are bitter, and they hurt, but he understands why you’re acting like this, he won’t blame you.
He doesn’t respond to that, you can see the look in his eyes, as if he’s heartbroken, and really you don’t know if it’s because of you or Jennifer, it’s hard to tell, and maybe that is exactly why you hurt him even more with your next words.
“If you want me to leave, I will.”
You take another step closer, Spencer gulps, and when he stays silent, you start crying incessantly, hands up to your face as if you’re ashamed of him seeing you like that — you shouldn’t be, he realises how much he really messed up. He’s hurt, confused, but he didn’t realise how this would affect you, and if anything, you’re both to blame.
Spencer’s a nice guy in your eyes, the perfect boyfriend even through his flaws, you don’t know if it’s because of his personality or really because you’re just madly in love with him, but even now, you can’t see malice in the way he acts. He would never need to lie to you the way he did when he said ‘I don’t love her anymore.’, he would always be a saint to you.
He approaches you finally, pulls you into a tight hug at his chest, places a kiss on top of your head and grips you like you’ll fly away if he doesn’t hold you.
“I’m sorry, okay, I just made a mistake,” he whispers, resting his chin over your hair. “I don’t need anyone else.” He breathes.
“Was just a stupid mistake.”
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wandagcre · 1 year ago
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drive you mad (part 1) | sam carpenter 🔞
(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)
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You’re reunited with your old friend, Samantha Loomis, and she couldn't be any more of a puzzle to you. It doesn't take long to become entangled with her once again – replacing the previously wholesome hangouts; this time you find yourself being in her sheets way more often.
WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, public sex, voyeurism, mirror sex, praise, degradation, fingering, poor communication, mentions of violence, hints of stalking, sam referring to you in spanish endearments (bc why not), not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 10k+
[ PART ONE of TWO | Next ]
[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]
You liked the universe and its ways of diverting you into paths you never thought to cross paths once again.
Weeks ago, attending another lousy gala was against your whole will. It didn’t seem necessary to you, finding no difference whether your presence was something that would be amiss to the buffoons dressed in suits of your multimillion dollar company. Sure, you completely detested the idea, yet you gave it a chance, as your good colleague turned into a friend – was nagging you for days before the event. She insisted it was an opportunity (a scenario eerily familiar to your college days as if it was a mere frat party) you thought that might as well maximize these so-called connections, right? So, you caved in and went dressed to kill, anyway.
Funnily enough, the said colleague was nowhere to be seen even if she was the sole reason of your presence here tonight. She claims that she had the flu and so you were forced to take in the hors-d’œuvre by yourself.
Here you were, in a fitted beige-colored pantsuit. You didn’t know whether it was your fake it ‘till you make it mantra during work, but you managed to survive (so far). Sipping in your flute of champagne and socializing with people. Your feet were starting to ache and so were your cheeks due to the endless polite smiling you have done for the night. It was draining, so to say.
Just as you were on your way to the bathroom to do some touch up, a recognizable voice made its way to you.
“Please do tell me that you went here without a date, (y/n/n).” a sultry voice uttered directly on your ears and you turned to them too fast, almost getting a whiplash.
You haven’t heard of that for a while. It was a nickname that your closest friends and family called you by.
Lo and behold – it was Samantha Loomis. 
Your eyes fluttered as she left you flabbergasted for multiple reasons. Sam had you putting your hand on your chest, beating madly as if you’ve seen a ghost. 
“Shit. Sam, you scared me, Jesus. Can’t you say hello like a normal person?”
She bodied the suit better than every man in the room. Sam stood with hands in her pocket, an aura that can easily rival anyone else’s confidence in the room, her jet black hair was fixed in a neat ponytail. She was donned in a well put navy blue suit – truly tailored to her perfect figure, emphasizing her good attributes. Damn this woman. Sam was still taller than you and insanely oozing with attractiveness.
Another thing? This woman was the one you were silently pining over during your teenage years. You were also heartbroken when she left town abruptly, leaving no trace behind.
“Finished checking me out?” she says, cocky. “Not one hi for me? you’re still easily frightened, (y/n/n).” a smile ghosts on her face as if Sam knew a secret. “So, how are you? If you’ve got a mystery date for tonight, I’d say they are doing a bad job of keeping you entertained.”
“Hi. Happy now?” You immediately blush at her blatant flood of compliments. “And I’m fine. Really, I’m just here to enjoy the drinks and all, maybe a bit of expanding in the work field too. So, it’s definitely just me – a last minute decision.”
Sam nods, eyes trailing on you. 
“I’m more than happy to hear that. ‘Cause that also means I can do this–?” she reached for your hand and pressed her lips at the back of it, making you flustered more than ever.
You weren’t used to Sam being this direct. She was affectionate, but not to this extent. She was more laid-back as you recall, not as forward and not this flirty. Women had always been your achilles’ heel but to experience this with Sam in the present time – it was a no-brainer that your old feelings were being tested.
“You always do this to the women you encounter?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Just you, (y/n/n).”
The way she kept saying your nickname felt too intimate as it was the one you were previously called back in one of the towns you used to stay in. One that Sam was a part of until she moved again – a common occurrence in her life that she mentioned in passing – albeit you were somewhat expecting it, you didn’t actually think it would hurt that much still.
You were by each other’s side all night. She blossomed into a refined and sophisticated woman, answering questions from other gentlemen and business people in the room with unshakable confidence. It was apparent too, with how they looked at her with respect. Sam even introduced you to others too, by your respective job and all, definitely buttering up your good qualities too that you haven’t even realized that this was benefiting you in your long forgotten plans of exposure. 
“I don’t think I should be with you Sam,” you whisper close to Sam who had her eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Whatever your business is, it’s definitely beyond what I do. Wouldn’t it be sketchy? Or like using you? Because that’s not–”
“Now slow down, honey. It’s no problem with me. Honestly, I was just thrilled to have you by my side tonight and you deserve the good word and all. It’s still me, (y/n/n).” she assured you as she held you softly by your shoulder. 
Exhaling the distress away, your stomach soon fluttered at Sam’s intentions.
“I’m having fun too, just so you know.” You truthfully admit, stopping a stupid smile to spread on your face. Sam gleamed at your words, evidently content as you are.
Soon you were catching up a little with life. Sam asked you how long you have been away from your hometown and what brought you to a new one. You sheepishly say that a new start was long overdue for you and interestingly, Sam returns the same sentiment, albeit there was longing in her tone but it disappeared quickly as it went. Before you could attempt to pry for more, a new set of people were catching up to the two of you, making you sigh.
Sam murmured to you after the man had left. “That man is definitely a no. He’s got a good history of attempting to shag his secretaries. Bound to be kicked from their board soon. I assumed a terrible workload and possibly environment, too.”
“Noted. Crossing that one out immediately.” You snorted at her unfiltered yet helpful tip. “He was rather creepy with how he was staring.. It’s like his first time seeing a pair of boobs during Victorian times.” you quip and laughter filled your chest.
“Did he now?” Sam squinted her eyes. “Well… you’re absolutely a sight for sore eyes, alright.” You see her eyes now surely over the valley of your chest. 
Was she really checking you out? 
Another new information for you is that Sam had apparently grown playful. You were astounded to receive her gaze, you elbowed her side. “I’m just saying! But him? oh he’s not worth your time, is all.” Sam reasoned, petulant.
“And you’re no better.”
“Excuse me, I am. I was simply admiring you.” she quipped at you very quickly and sipped her drink.
“If you say so. And hey, what about her?” you subtly point at the tall, middle-aged woman you met earlier. 
“Uh-uh, also a pass. Better CEO than him and the others, for sure, but you could do better. A bit of the same as the old man, just a woman version of him on a somewhat low profile.”
You look with much interest now. For two different reasons – one, because you didn’t expect that and two, how exactly of a big shot was Sam to know all of this insider information?
“Doesn’t sound bad to me.”
Not for me. Sam murmured as she sipped on her drink. You look at her quizzically, obviously not catching her words. 
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, what about that one…” Sam subtly points out another person across from you. 
She listed out the company’s stand point, what they were looking for, and you momentarily tuned out – savoring her voice that melted in your ear.
“How do you know all of this?” You blurt out.
Sam was sporting a distant tight-lipped smile. “I own a few businesses from here and there. Can’t spill them all to you in one night. I have to remain mysterious so I can be interesting for you, don’t I, honey?” she tilted her head.
For the hundredth time that night, your heart pounded and cheeks were crimson once again, all by Samantha Loomis.
:: 
This morning as you flipped through the channels, it reported the death of a wealthy CEO, stabbed in most inhumane ways and his eyes were reportedly gouged out. 
Momentarily, you felt sick to your stomach until you realized that it was the same man who was a creep from the gala. You vividly recall Sam's words; with this man's business fluctuating badly and his poor work ethics, your thoughts gradually eased and snapped yourself out of it. He did see that one coming, you suppose.
You couldn’t be any more grateful that you’re far from that circle.
::
While you were terrified, it didn't stop you from going outside by yourself. Normally, this routine of yours is done during day time. However, resting got the best of your time this weekend and so with a resigned sigh, you came prepared with a pepper spray that you blatantly held as your free hand pushed the cart. Your stock of groceries wouldn't be done by itself, after all. Were you paranoid? (The answer is yes, rightfully so).
The mundane chore was going well. 
Until you were on one aisle, on your tip-toes, barely reaching the chips that were now placed a tier higher than normal. It’s like a trick and you were being played, as coincidentally, it was the last one on the rack. You irrationally listed this as a bad sign - change wasn't to be welcomed for you in times of horror.
The lighting grew dark and it shadowed you. it triggered your fight or flight mode as this person towered you from behind, the scent strongly engulfed your senses and so did their body frame, making you gasp as their front was almost pressed against you. 
They picked up the item for you and as you turned around, it was Sam.
She hasn’t preoccupied your mind for a while and you take in her presence as a fresh breath of air.
"Hey, pretty girl, I don't want you getting hurt." She joked and dropped the chips herself on your cart. 
"Fancy seeing you here," you retort with equal amusement to the woman in front of you. You thought it was unfair that she always stunned you as you saw her casual get up. 
Sam wore a bomber jacket and a navy baseball cap. She handheld her own cart and interestingly filled it with junk food, just like yours, and a couple of cleaning disinfectants.
"Do you usually shop this late?” Sam quips gently, hearing the concern in her tone.
You sheepishly smiled, "I know. But in my defense, work kept me late unfortunately. Or maybe it was me over napping..." admitting it out loud felt silly. "I don't have much of a choice. I ran out of stash in my pantry and while it's not really a good time.. wait, I don’t mean that with you, but what I meant is that, given the circumstances happening right now - it’s horrifying to be out and about."
Sam raised an eyebrow at your rambling. She found it endearing that you had to clarify each time how you liked her company. 
"And what circumstances are we talking about?"
"You know, the whole killing thing," you hushed down low and kept walking with Sam who hummed right behind you. "Haven’t you heard it yet? It honestly had me worried. I don't want to be put in that position."
You both come across the isle of candies, you picked up a couple of them. Embarrassment soon crept in the more you confided your fear out in the open and how you revealed your unhealthy fix of snacks in the presence of Sam, the woman you're swooning about.
"I see. That explains your trusty pepper spray," Sam nodded along in understanding. "Say, do you mind if I accompany you? Sticking together could be better, after all." she lightly nudged your side with her arm and swiftly took over to push your cart by her own.
An easy smile crossed your features. You can't say no to spending more time with her.
"I'd like that very much."
::
The simple scare and business exchange was the start of your reconnection with Sam. 
It seemed that Sam was sticking for good - or near you. At least, that’s what you thought so. Her place couldn’t be that far as you happened to come across her for a few times already. 
A few days later she surprised you, sent a rather straightforward message and opened up how she misses you (you almost fainted on that message). Come the weekend, Sam called you to say that she’s sending a driver to pick you up around 6 PM. After you gave her your address, Sam notes to dress in nothing strict and formal as the gala, and you quote Sam who said in her own words: just bring your pretty self. 
It was rather bossy and forward, if you were being honest. Though your senses dulled it out of bias, being Sam’s friend in the past she hasn’t done anything to put you in harm.
Another thing that brought you to a conundrum was how it sounded like a date but you didn’t want to be that hopeful – even with her endless flirting. You simply note it as another Sam evolution; a part of her confident self. The driver who picked you up was dressed in casual business attire, no older than late 20s, gave you a polite smile. He introduced himself as Martin and referred to Sam as Ms. Loomis and as you were in a phone call with her, she immediately confirmed to you that it was indeed your ride.
Relief washed over you, feeling secured enough with the whole get up. Especially with the case of brutal murder as of recently.
Arriving at the place, the door was opened for you and he mentions that he’ll be parked at the same place. The restaurant itself was one of the places you haven’t had a chance to visit yet, mostly because you didn’t feel zealous to spend a lot of money on a glorified casual meal. The ambience striked your interest immediately, the interior was cozy, and welcoming – especially for whatever they served, the aroma made your stomach rumble. 
Looking around, it was opposed to what you expected – there was no single sight of business suits hovering in the place. They were stuffy people in casual attire, maybe.
“You made it.” Sam stood up from her seat and your eyes fluttered at her beauty once again. Her floral scent was hypnotizing and covered your senses as she went for a hug. “How was your ride?”
“It was nice. I like your car,” you timidly say as Sam pulled a chair for you. 
“And I like your outfit. You look so beautiful, (y/n/n.)” Sam’s words were earnest and crimson quickly spread on your cheeks and rose up to your ears.
The stark contrast of her in formal attire with slick ponytail was apparent, yet equally so attractive. Sam stood in plain tight polo, baggy pants and some sneakers with her hair loose. She gave you a warm smile and her eyes also did a once over to your figure; you were dressed simply in a knitted zip top that hugged your torso, some trousers, and decent platform shoes. 
“Says you. You’re absolutely charming, it’s unfair.”
“Don’t start that with me, honey. We’ll be here all night arguing about that.”
Sam grinned at how you affectionately rolled your eyes at her quip. As you settled in and looked at the menu, you noticed the familiarity. It was on par with your tastebuds. She definitely remembered your type of crowd. You hid a smile with this information.
However, your joy was temporarily cut off as you noticed the server giving Sam the heart eyes as she took note of the order, although the latter paid no mind, swiftly reiterating your orders with her polite smile, it didn’t stop you from getting irrationally bothered on the inside.
You should have seen this coming. Surely, other people were bound to find Sam attractive as much as you do.
“Have you ever been here?” Sam eagerly questioned, her doe-eyes all on you. “I was nervous to pick a decent place, to be honest. I didn’t want it to be stuffy and stiff, but not too casual – only because I wasn’t so sure with your taste now, so I relied on my (y/n) senses.”
You were quick to nod off, “No. I was interested but I never had the chance.” a slow appreciative smile spread on your lips. “Your senses were right - don’t worry, Sam. They definitely serve the type of food I like. I hope you didn’t compromise that much for me." While you liked the thoughtfulness, you wanted Sam to have a good time as well.
“Well, that’s great! It means you can enjoy it with me that way. Don’t worry, based on their menu it seems appetizing for me, too.” her eyes lit up assuring you, and it was an adorable sight. She showed you another side of her again, reminiscent of how you remember her relaxed state and wasn’t as constricted from the gala held days earlier. “I have to ask.. is this setup okay with you? In case you’re… seeing someone.”
You’re surprised at her interest at your love life. Her attention remained fixated on you and it made you blink couple of times.
“Definitely not seeing any woman right now. Nothing recently.” you hint your preference, in case Sam hasn’t picked up on it yet even before. You haven’t come out back then. 
Sam smiled at your response. “That’s a relief. Means I won’t be breaking any faces any time soon.” your eyes widen at her words. “I’m kidding, (y/n/n). Or not.”
You nod along at Sam’s words with an unsure smile, not knowing what she exactly meant by that. You shrug it off as her odd humor. 
“What about you, any lucky person yet?” you asked, it was your chance to know more about her too.
A playful smirk was written on Sam’s features. 
“Funny thing is that it's the same case for me, I haven't gotten around it for uh, for some reason.” she ended sheepishly and shuffled a bit on her seat. “I could be eyeing on someone, who knows. But I have to be mysterious to you.” Sam’s voice dropped an octave lower. If you didn’t know any better, your delusions would think that she’s implying suggestively to you.
While her vague answer didn’t provide you what her type was, it was a relief for you to know that Sam is not off the market yet.
Both of your smiles barely wore off since then. Soon you were finally eating your go-to food and Sam with her chosen pasta. You debate whether you should finally ask Sam of her sudden disappearance, but you really didn’t want to spoil the mood either.
“Are you okay? Something wrong with your meal?” Sam leaned in to you and you quickly motioned no. 
“No, no. It’s just– I want to know, why did you have to leave?” you can’t help it but the hurt dripped on your tone. “It was so sudden and I haven’t heard from you since then… and now, you’re here again.”
You felt silly because it was a long time ago. Seeing Sam in flesh again gave you a whiplash, you valued her presence as she was your confidant during your hard times. If it weren’t for the gala, maybe you’d be left wondering until now, you’ll never know.
Warmth covered your hands, surprised that Sam has taken them to intertwine with hers.
“I can’t say the full details yet. But.. I’m here to stay. Believe me, honey. What happened then - it has something to do with my father. You knew how unstable things were at home, right? And I was expected to… step up into things at a faster pace than I can ever imagine,”
You only had a slight idea – if Sam before wasn’t very talkative and open – it was a thing that definitely remained until now. Sometimes their house was rowdy, full of men that wore notable sparkly ostentatious accessories. You only knew that his father’s job was demanding and that he was uptight, didn't want Sam to be out late, she had to sneak to parties, and was harsh with his words - even in front of you. It reflected the fear that glinted in Sam’s eyes when you were caught at their house, at the same beat, Sam also seemed to respect him. It was odd and the similarity of her tone was not lost on you but you didn’t push further.
You also wondered how Sam's sister, Tara, is doing and most likely all grown up now. 
“Is it enough for you right now?” Sam meekly asked you, hopeful glint in her eyes.
You mimic her playful smirk from earlier.
“Only if we get mint ice cream right after this and I’m paying.”
Sam let out a relieved sigh, leaning back to her seat and an easy going grin gracing her features once again. 
“Alright, whatever your heart desires, (y/n/n).”
::
After a wholesome reunion (or date?) the two of you were on a weird loop. At least for you. She was bearing gifts that weren’t so little at all – packages were being sent to your house, always coming with a handwritten note that said ‘reminded me of you’ with a scribbled wink, sometimes a heart, and seeing Sam became a part of your routine. It was all you looked forward to every week – seeing Sam – that your friends even asked whether you were dating someone as you appeared more occupied than ever.  
At this point, you have visited restaurants and stores you could only imagine. Sam mentioned that having to try delicacies with you was a terrific experience, she liked your honesty and fun quips of critique. Although it shifted to something you’d say – a bit odd. While she was warm and welcoming, she never stopped by at your house.
Although you weren’t going to lie, it made you curious. Disappointed, too. Was she embarrassed enough to avoid being seen dropping by in the eyes of the public, in an intimate way? Granted, there wasn’t anything intimate going on. 
Other than that, it dawned to you how tactile Sam was with conversations. It was always knowing something new and familiar, never delving into something deeper.
For her sweet quips, you remain confused whether it was flirty and intentional, after all, you didn’t think that Sam was to take interest in you romantically speaking. So, it was a challenge for yourself to not get any less flustered. Especially when you’re crushing over her.
::
"Hey, pretty girl. Wanna eat out tonight?" Sam smoothly asks you from the other line and you snorted at her forwardness.
You peer over your window at the kitchen before shutting the blinds. You didn’t know whether it was still the lingering paranoia you felt over the gruesome murders and the irrational fear that you could be next. 
What if they were watching you?
"Dunno Sam," you scratch your nape, debating your answer as you remembered the events happening outside. "Is it safe? A brutal death happened recently. And you know, honestly, Sam – it rattled me a little more than I thought it did."
"Is this about the CEO? Honey, I've told you that he was already in deep shit. his decisions have probably caused him to dig himself into a bigger mess unimaginable."
The lack of care in Sam’s tone surprised you a little. But your mind weighed in the facts; these were billionaires who fucked up, didn’t do anything good for the others, and put themselves in the wrong crowd. You give Sam credit for that similar thought as you assume.
"Okay, but still…"
You hear Sam cooing in sympathy. "If it helps, I have my men around. We’ll be safe. You’ll be safe with me, don't worry." she promises with conviction enough for you to believe her.
You hummed as you rethink your answer. You wanted to hang out with the woman you've been crushing over (again) and having an idea of how her bodyguard's in question are built, you feel yourself leaning more to saying yes. 
"I guess that helps yeah- you just had to be so damn convincing, didn't you?" Even if this was a call, you can already see the stupid grin that Sam has now. "Alright, I'm sold with that. I'll see you later, Loomis." you playfully sing-songed to which Sam giggled as you dropped the call.
::
“Let’s try something new today.” Sam said in her low voice and to your surprise she held the car door open for you in the passenger seat and you weren’t in the backseat this time.
“Don’t we always?” you refer to your eating escapades with her. 
To your shock, Sam went to the driver’s seat. 
She was the one driving for today?
“Nuh-uh. We’re going to my house.”
“What?”
You turn your head fast to face Sam with your expectant eyes; filled with surprise and excitement. After all, your brain was racking itself with much curiosity of what is going on with your friend slash crush’s personal life. When Sam caught the glee in your expression, her own eyes crinkled at the corners and muttered something about how adorable you are.
As you parked outside, you noticed familiar vehicles that tailed the one you and Sam were in. You only saw a few of them before, the men only looked at you out of politeness – as if their eyes weren’t around to linger – and they were more pliant with Sam. It instilled an idea that your friend was this much of a respected person.
“Don’t worry, they’re with us.” Sam informs you and you were shy of how evident you were glancing at the side and at the back. 
You took tentative steps inside her home, surprisingly it was bursting with colors. It was apparent that Sam liked the idea of experimenting when it comes to style, as her interior and decorations felt straight out of magazine.
In her living space, she offered for you to sit first. She looked messy this time – not as neat after work, her hair down again instead of the usual ponytail, which seemed unnatural for someone so polished for her professional state.
“This was all of a sudden, sorry. I can’t… I’m a shit host for tonight. I’m honestly not feeling well today. I can get someone to fetch our food, whatever you like, it’s on me mi quierida.”
“You could’ve postponed this thing that we have. I mean, I don’t mind.” Okay maybe that was a complete lie – but you didn’t want Sam to feel forced.
Sam tilted her head. “And risk depriving myself of not seeing you? I do mind that. More than you can imagine. I guess you could say that I selfishly wanted you all by myself tonight, regardless.”
You feel somersaults in your stomach – making you squirm at your seat. Before you can process her words further, your attention panned to Sam’s hands and grew alarmed as you saw a faint view of her knuckles were red, you figure it'll be bruising the next day. She tried to hide it a lot as soon as decent lighting was present. Sam discarded her silver watch and then removed the champagne from the bucket near her to submerged her closed fist as it contained ice. It clinked against the metal, and as seeing her face, her chestnut eyes kept fleeting over you – observing.
"What exactly were you doing anyway?" Amusement was in your tone, although concern crept in quickly. You didn't want Sam to be hurt in some fight club. Or any way, for that matter.
Sam beckons you, "Come here." she softly uttered. as you did, her free hand rested on your lower back. "I ran into a small inconvenience. I guess you can say that I handled it well." 
You snorted at her poor joke. A boyish smile spread on her pretty face.
"If you're joking with that shitty pun… I'll take your word for it, Loomis." You slid an arm around her neck, patting her shoulder affectionately. 
It was truly a gesture meant to be playful but it appeared that it became a cause to shift things between you two. The proximity made you hyper aware with your heartbeat pounding loudly by the minute. You can’t even look Sam in the eye, remaining frozen.
"Uh-huh. You should trust me with it, mi quierida. You know I always mean well.”
Sam smirked, as though she knew something you didn't. She was difficult to decipher at most times but you shrug it off, noting it as a part of her charm. It was her thing thenand apparently, until now. 
Case in point: her sneakily trailing her hand lower as they were, now resting on the slope of your ass. She grabbed you by its underside, feeling her fingers digging into the flesh. Knees growing weak at the contact, you barely stifle a gasp. It was surprising yet very welcomed and better than you imagined.
She rubbed her calloused hand back and forth on your back soothingly. "Stay... stay the night with me.'' Sam whispered as she nosed the crook of your neck, her breath against your skin spreading goosebumps.
It was an all-too familiar scene, however, Sam was bolder.
“Let me give you your present for tonight,” Sam husked out, her face moved to bite on your earlobe – her hands needy all over your body. “or… just say the word and I’ll stop,”
You were pulled in, moaning as you finally cracked through the tension. Both of you no longer teetering in friendly boundaries. It was hard not to – not when it was Sam you adored for a great chunk of your life and how her siren eyes were pierced onto yours. As Sam was nervous, you were simply stunned and returned the same feeling as you did.
"Okay,” you responded shakily yet you moved with an ounce of bravery, finally affirming your answer by grabbing Sam by the nape and lips crashing with much need, electrifying you.
Sam devoured you in her satin sheets until you were swollen, frazzled, and dripping. 
::
The next day, you discover that another case of murder has happened in your town. This was an odd occurrence, as while death is inevitable, it was surprising to hear more of them happening in a short period. More so, it was unusual to hear of a brutal case in your normally nonchaotic town.
Fear began to creep into you as your colleague mentioned it was another CEO yet, this time it was the woman whom you've also met from the gala – being there, meeting these people and hearing them as nothing but reported deaths now felt like a bad omen. It created quite the buzz in your workplace, after all it was one of your company's competitors, too.
Shiver ran down your spine; you couldn't be next, right? 
If you were to follow the pattern, it only suggests isolated killings of wealthy figures and you couldn't be any farther from that. You were another normal person who’s only trying to get by.
Then you remember Sam and the extra security she provides to you. All this time she had kept you safe and away from harm. You found solace over the thought, so you exhale and tried your best to let go of your worries.
::
In all honesty you were only expecting to pull connections that can land you higher positions that promised bits of grandiose escapades in between – all tied to your work during that gala – and you’re surprised that you landed in Sam instead, though in a much more compromising position that ignited your whole body for days. Sometimes you can’t even move due to soreness. More often, you burned and yearned for Sam’s touch. 
It’s like the woman imprinted on you.
Sam finally brought you to her actual place which was a good breaking point. As soon as you saw past the soaring entrance and the modern architecture that greeted your wide eyes. So far, it appeared that she was indeed the only one based on your frequent stays – only men in between casual and formal attires, some being her bodyguards and maids as well were around the area. 
You were surrounded by a lavish wardrobe that you can only dream of. You were amused that you share similar skin-care products as her when you first used her personal bathroom. It was a good coincidence, it made your stay-ins much more comfortable and efficient.
The spacious place felt intimidating to your bones as you walked around halls and doors after one another, although you’ve handled much more terrifying things that were specifically this she-devil.
It was a surprise to you how she can swoon you with her gentleness and barely any of that remains in the bedroom activities. She was absolutely rough and domineering.
She continues to take you to different places you’ve never been to before. Though, now they were private and more high-end properties. Today, Sam took you today to where you wouldn't normally get your sexy undergarments. 
It was sultry and inviting to the ladies. The assisting ladies were polite, kept a minimal distance, and didn’t blatantly stare unless their attention was called to. You and Sam came by fairly early, hence the lack of people, you assume. You were fascinated with the quality of the garters and fabrics that felt different on your fingertips. 
One of her men, Martin, stood by inside the store. Sam assured you that everything was fine, it’s only a precaution and more of a just-in-case business thing. She kissed you before you could ask anything else, effectively distracting you.
Finally having both of your picks, you were welcomed by another part of the area where the sconce's recessed light only added to the thrill that was covering the lavender hall of the boutique. It certainly made the atmosphere downright sinful and erotic. For a minute, you thought that maybe you can handle being Sam’s dirty secret. You felt so dizzy. Feverish. Needy.
Sam placed a final kiss to the side of your neck before she was gently ushering you to go, seeing the familiar look of hunger in her eyes as if she was controlling herself - it made you shiver with the same desire - then you went in to fit.
You nervously stood in front of the mirror, doing final touches on the laces. Sam insisted that she prefers seeing you fit the lingeries instead of her dropping them on your face out of nowhere – something you appreciated.
Slipping yourself into the intricate laces of the lingerie, you were unable to stop nitpicking on the blemishes and stretch marks that were on your skin and how apparent they were beyond this flimsy material that attempted to cover your intimate parts.
“Don’t forget to show them to me, alright?” Sam hollered from the other end.
You try to suck it up, being snapped out of your insecurities. “Wanna come in here?”
“No, come out here.”
In disbelief, you shook your head no even if Sam couldn’t see it. What did she mean by that?
“Are you crazy? There’s… there could be people out. Just come here,” you whisper-yell to Sam.
“There’s no one. We arrived early and just – trust me. It’s only me out here, seated, completely alone.”
You hesitantly move the curtain in the fitting room and step out. Indeed it was silent and no one was there just as Sam reassured. It helped that the room was actually just for the two of you. As you stood there, you felt so naked and raunchy, being were dressed in nothing but lingerie.
“What’s the verdict for this?”
Sam was manspreading on the emerald upholstered chair and you stood in between her legs, inquisitive. 
“Oh, baby.”
“How is it…?” you fiddle with the laces, not meeting her eyes.
Sam looks at you with her mouth agape. She didn't say much but surprise was written on her face. You cannot help but overthink still, as your skin wasn’t flawless nor ridiculously skinny like any other models that Sam surely had been entwined with at one point… or even now. 
“Hey, are you feeling okay, (y/n/n)?” Sam questions and taps on her thigh. “You aren’t comfortable with this one, are you?” she worriedly asks, her hands on your side, rubbing to soothe you. “Because you look so stunning to me, god,”
You refuse to meet Sam’s eyes, “I- I don’t think I look flattering at these. I’m no model, Sam. Surely you had better.” the distaste on your tone didn’t go unnoticed by the woman who frowned at your words.
Your insecurities began to gnaw in rapidly; what if Sam had other women on days you weren’t available? It made you sick to your stomach.
“What makes you think that? Oh, baby this is the best I’ve ever had.” Sam tugs you by your forearm and while you are teary eyed, she places a gentle kiss at the back of your hand. “I’m sorry if you felt forced to do this. You can take it off now if you want. If I’m being honest, I only thought of wanting to see you strip for me."
The explanation had put your mind at ease. It definitely gave you a sense of comfort that to some extent, you do matter to Sam.
“We could have thought of something else. I.. I’m just not feeling this, Sam, it doesn’t fit me. I’m sorry.”
Sam's heart sank at your words. You weren’t to blame at all. Soon, you felt her fingertips subtly tugging down your skimpy underwear to which you put your hand above hers, halting her movements.
"What – Sam, someone might see us," nervousness washes over your expression, you don't want to get caught in such a vulnerable state.
Sam only looked at you with her dilated eyes. "As if I'd let them see this. Trust me, we just have to be quick, princesa, because I can’t wait much longer.." her fingers smoothly went to hook her fingers under the garter of your underwear and moved to grab the base of the fabric. “Let me apologize to you in this way.” She gave it a pulling tug, your moan vibrating in the small space as it deliciously cupped your pussy lips. “You look so beautiful right now, (y/n/n).”
You barely stifle a moan from erupting out of your mouth and feel yourself drip with wetness.
“My pretty girl is getting turned on with a fucking wedgie? You’re just as turned on as I am, aren’t you?” Sam moistens her lips, “So pretty and all for me. You can’t be loud in here baby, I need you to stay quiet. Don’t want others to hear you moan.”
“Thought- there was no others,” you whimper at Sam who only smirked.
“But the assistants are outside. Can’t have them knowing you’re such a whore for me, hm? Now turn your back to me and look at your pretty reflection.”
Nodding your head profusely, you swallow the lump in your throat. It made Sam chuckle in delight, her eyes gleaming. She pulls up the fabric once again, you’re sure that a wet patch is now evidently staining it. She pokes it with the pad of her two fingers and brushes them back and forth, the friction bringing you pleasure.
She interrupts your reverie by halting her motions, unclasping the bra off you and the intricate straps – one your eyes lingered to – only you didn’t realize that Sam saw the dismay on your face, as though it didn’t fit you. It would be an understatement for Sam to say that she abhors seeing you treat yourself this way.
You observe her hooded eyes now full of desire as she looks up to you – it’s undeniable with how it matches her actions, feeling Sam’s thumb pressed then on your back muscle, letting go to run over her hands all over your torso. It’s soothing although given your position, you feel the want and her touch intoxicating you.
“Sam, please.” you begged, ass pushed to her direction with your posture bent over. 
She merely laughs and smacks her hand hard on your ass. The sound echoes in the dressing room. You hissed at how it stings.
Sam had always found your curious look so endearing. You always looked so ready for her to take, attentive, always so curious and beautiful.
She moves her hands agonizingly slow and sensual to your hip bones – brushing her thumb against them – to the skin right under the curve of your ass. You shriek out loud with eyes rolling back to your head, temporarily forgetting that you’re in a public place as Sam notches it up by squeezing you tenderly. 
Repeatedly.
“Look at the mirror, (y/n)” Sam sternly orders. You shudder with eyes wide, still not moving. “My little bunny is not dumb, aren’t you, my sweet thing? Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You gulped audibly and a string of moans were pulled out of you as Sam kneaded your supple breasts pleasingly. Being bare while Sam was fully clothed made you uneasy. Looking at the mirror didn’t feel right - seeing yourself become this needy and you meet Sam’s eyes in the reflection. What was her point in doing this? You don’t know either how it intimidates you yet a tinge of excitement is unmistakably laced underneath your impression. While you weren’t new to her roughness, this was particularly still felt exhilarating to you. 
Lost in a haze of lust, the ambience changed within the store – it felt as though you were trapped in a heating chamber. It’s charged and so electrifying to be in a compromising position with Sam – while it was a secluded and high-end one that provided privacy, you hoped that no one barged in soon.
Sam left a kiss on your lower back and feeling her hot breath brush on your skin made you shiver run down your spine, snapping you out of your worries. 
“I’m going to need you to sit between my legs, (y/n/n). And I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers until you understand in your pretty head that you’re beautiful, hm?” Sam’s words echoed titillatingly on your whole body, your breath hitched and bothered.
Soon as you sat hesitantly onto the couch between her legs, Sam gripped it and opened it wide for you as she saw you squirming and shakily closing your legs. You saw yourself in the reflection - how bare you were. And all you can think about is Sam and how you’re about to soil the velvety seat. She tuts at your shyness and manoeuvres her hand, wrist curling as she glides one finger over your soaked slit, gasping at how you were already so wet – teasing you.
You sharply inhaled, chasing more of Sam’s touch. “Told you that I’m gonna fuck you in front of this mirror, baby. So don’t hide yourself. I’d like to keep you like this, so gorgeous and ready for me.”
Sam did it for you – adjusted her own thighs to accommodate your legs, placed them on top of hers and spread them for you to see how exactly you were dripping. The wetness trickled down the expanse of your inner thighs out of your folds. Sam had a wolfish grin, what you’d describe as predatory and hungry for you. Lolling your head back to Sam’s shoulder, you hear her grunt as she glides her fingers now directly to your folds, eventually entering inside of you.
The sloppy sounds of your wetness echoed in the room. It didn’t help that you felt Sam pressed the base of her palm against your pelvis as her curled fingers rammed madly inside of you. You were pouring out your arousal.
“Oh Sam, oh fuck– fuck, fuck!” heat rose on your belly, coming in waves. Sam responded by pressing kisses on your now sweaty face.
“Mm yeah? More?”
“Yes, yes… Please, Sam!”
You were lost in the haze of lust, driving you dizzy, as your pussy kept pounding with Sam’s rapid thrusts. A slew of guttural moans were out of your mouth – not even minding how loud you are now. You feel how your own core clenched and sucked the entirety of Sam’s fingers, taking a peek in the mirror proved it enough – it was a terrible decision for you.
“Open your eyes, come on now, my good girl. Don’t want you to miss out on how beautiful my sight is.”
Your teeth caught your bottom lip, you comply for Sam’s sake. She called you a good girl, after all. You kept bouncing on her slender and now thoroughly soaked fingers, your slick all over her pants and you saw how it trickled down to damp and darkened the very upholstered chair. Seeing yourself blushing and so fucking used, your pussy squeezed once again over Sam’s fingers and to both of your delight, her thumb pried and did circular motions to your clit.
The pleasure shot you straight in waves over your body and vibrated so deliciously. 
You meet Sam’s thrusts and as you bounced, you also saw how intently focused she was on your reflection.
“God, look at these tits,” Sam roughly squeezed the flesh, making them aggressively jiggle. “I fucking love having you like this baby. Aren’t you my good girl?” she hotly whispered to your reddened ear, giving your earlobe a bite.
Her other hand that supported you by the waist, crawled up to grab the very breasts that she verbally appreciated. 
“Come on, say it.” Sam gave it another squeeze – plenty that made you mewl – and tugged your perk nipple harshly. “and look at me as you do.”
“Yes, yes, yes! I’m.. I’m your good girl!”
“Mine only,” Sam growled and you felt her teeth sinking in the skin of your neck, biting and nipping. “Oh how I wanted you for so long, like this for me…”
You moan as you turn your head, not minding the awkward angle, not in this needy state of yours you did mind. Neither did Sam, who was visibly appeased with her pearly grin as you do – even more when you shifted your gaze to the mirror and this time, you actually stared at it. 
“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?”
Your hand slithered to Sam’s nape, who was almost as breathless as you. You tried to keep a firm grip on her as you feel more lost in the pleasure.
“Yes, Oh… oh! Sam!”
You nod instantaneously making the woman smile even wider. Soon, Sam’s fingers were sloppy wet and rapidly applying pleasure on her pad and focused on your very clit. You couldn’t do anything but elicit more expressive moans and squelching noises that bounced through the room as Sam fucked you dumb. The coil in your stomach finally untangled, leaving you breathless.
You meekly look at your figure in the reflection once again. Your cum trickled down continuously, leaking out of your pulsating hole. Sam panted lowly in your ear and inserted her hand again, making you grab her inner wrist as you felt the oversensitivity. She hushed you to calm down and she was gently pumping. 
It was indeed a pretty sight.
The thick slick of your arousal and cum soon was on your lips, Sam prying it open. It wasn’t up for discussion – you didn’t hesitate either. You taste the bittersweetness coating your tongue and mixed with your saliva, eagerly sucking out of Sam’s fingers. She moaned at your enthusiasm, encouraged by this you sucked more of your remains out of it, your teeth grazing along and Sam pushed it deeper until you felt her slender fingers slightly poking at your throat. 
Once she was satisfied, she handled you differently by flipping your position so now you straddled her leg and faced Sam instead of the mirror. Her lips quickly made its way to give you open mouthed kisses to your sternum, to your neck, finally your mouth.
“You did so well, mi amor. And you were so pretty.” You shyly nodded at Sam’s praise. “Remember that, hm? Regardless of dressing like this – lingerie or not – I’ll look and appreciate you the same way.”
“Mm-hmm,” you lazily nodded and met Sam’s gaze.
After Sam helped you dress your clothes. While being fucked the lights out earlier was heavenly, the walking out of the fitting room was not pleasant at all. Your legs feel like jelly, you can barely walk properly without Sam’s tight support on your waist (you refused her offer of carrying you not wanting to be further embarrassed) but it helped that there weren’t any side glances from the assistants. 
Oh, heavens. You forgot that Martin was also waiting inside the boutique. Even if he remained mum, you couldn’t be any more humiliated today.
Sam pushed back her slightly tousled hair and you helped her smoothen the back of her clothing. As for her trousers, the damage has been done and it’s currently stained with your wetness. An odd sense of pride came at you because you did that.
Sam held the undergarments – even the one she destroyed and fucked you into and personally offered to place it inside of the provided bag and then handed her black card. 
“We’ll take the seat too, the green one in the fitting room. I’ll send someone to pick it up today.” she uttered in what you recognize as her professional voice, the lady simply smiled, replying with Yes, Ms. Loomis, as she agreed with no hesitation.
You hid your face in the crook of Sam’s neck and your cheeks burned. Sam only giggled at your shy reaction. She wrapped an arm around you and brushed your hair gently as she leaned closer to you.
::
“Come back ‘ere.” Sam lazily mutters, voice still raspy. She was still in bed which was such a miraculous sight. Not only because her godly body was exposed but the fact that she stayed in. Her arms were reaching out to you, caressing your bare lower back and eyes barely open. “It’s so cold, you know.”
You gave her a wistful smile. “And you do know that I’m out of clothes here, right? I also happen to have a place of my own, Sam.”
“You can always–”
“–borrow yours, yeah. I know, Sam. But I have to go. My work stuff isn’t here either.”
She sits up fully. “Okay, baby.” Sam replied dejectedly. You shake your head at how she’s acting like a kicked puppy and barely the same as an insatiable sex god from last night. “How about I drive you home? This is an inarguable offer, by the way.”
Sam gave you a pointed look and you can’t help but think if she’s tricking you – seducing you, almost. She’s unashamed with her nakedness and the way she crossed her arms, further made her biceps prominent, the mysterious scar across them, and her supple breasts gave you a mouthwatering view. You chose to ignore how your stomach fluttered at her use of endearment. The more time you spend with Sam, the more they slip out.
“Don’t talk business to me, Sam. You’re so annoying.” You turn back fully facing her with an impish disbelief, grasping at the sheets to cover yourself. 
Sam looked at you with childish glee on her face. “Excuse me, you were the one who brought up work. I’m simply reminding you of what you are absolutely missing while I’m on leave for today, mi princesa.”
“Fine, fine. It's not my fault that I’m a corporate slave.”
“That’s why being with me is a good idea.” Sam insists with a kiss on your jugular notch. “Come on, I was planning to make your favorite dish. Maybe you can do it with me, what do you think?” 
“Very professional.” You sigh at Sam’s silliness unfolding in front of you. “You just know all the right words to say…”
She crawled her way to you, shutting you up by capturing your lips with soft ones. It was chaste and you felt her smile in between. Moments like this only tugged at your heartstrings. It deluded you that it was somehow coming home to your girlfriend, only to be shaken to the reality of you knowing it was an unlabeled limbo with an old friend. So you shift, initiating with much force this time, getting rough with how you were kissing Sam as though it was your last time. 
“Am I still annoying if I do… this?” You feel Sam’s calloused fingers smoothly trailing on your inner thighs, making you shiver. You throw your head back as you reeled to her touch. The familiar wetness reemerged on your core once again.
Before she could do anything else, her phone rang. Sam immediately went for it and barely a trace of her sweet disposition remained as she excused herself.
You blinked at her reaction, paying not much mind to it. Instead, you let your body relax in the softest mattress you’ve ever laid on and quickly, you’re pulled by the thoughts of Sam again, missing her already as you sprawl onto the bed, smelling the distinct coconut shampoo and addicting lotion that she uses and how it clung to the space you laid in. 
Half an hour had passed. Getting up, you look around where she could have been, only to find her out in one out of two living rooms, absorbed with the phone call she's in. It wasn’t your plan to eavesdrop but your heart sank soon as the words became much clearer to your ears. 
"Yes, I'm dropping by the strip club tonight... of course." 
Strip club… tonight? Her words came out in a hush, obviously Sam didn’t want to be heard or rather, caught. No wonder she has been insistent on you to stay this morning. 
You simply weren't Sam's fix for this evening.
With cautious steps, you retreat back to Sam's bedroom and with the disgust that brewed in, bile rising in your throat, you start dressing up.
"I thought we agreed that you're staying?" Sam raised her hands in confusion.
"Work couldn't wait, sorry. It’s bugging me the more I ignore it.”
Sam’s face fell immediately at your sudden change of mind. Your heart twinged a little, almost believing that it was genuine.
"Alright. Let me drive you home, (y/n/n)."
Your smile twitched as you hummed in agreement. Suspicion and confrontation will rise if you didn’t, and given what you just found out, you truly didn’t feel up for it.
"I'm bummed that you won't be cooking with me, just so you know. I'll make it alone - don't worry, it will be filled with love and care, a perfect fix as you get your reports done." Sam enthusiastically clasped her hands to you and it only made harder for you to stop the tears that were threatening to pour.
The way Sam took you in her grasp, arms loosely clung around your neck and the mesmerizing gaze she held was doing the opposite reaction. You felt repelled, uneasiness continued to flow through your mind. You've just heard her in the same beat a few minutes ago planning to go to not only a mere club to drink for fun - but a strip joint? Her intentions became even more confusing to you.
Your resolve was crumbling and it was becoming apparent when Sam leaned in for a hopeful kiss and you dodged it, her puckered lips hit the corner of your mouth instead. If she was baffled and had finally picked up your sour mood, you didn't see it as you continued to avoid her gaze.
The car ride was silent. It didn't even occur to you that Sam actually drove you home, but instead of filling the space with laughter and bickering over your taste in music, the two of you were met with an odd silence. You peer at the window throughout the ride, the silent turmoil grew inside of you at the backseat as the car drove on your way home. Eyes fluttering rapidly, you feel the waterworks coming in. Of course this was only a matter of time before it was confirmed to you that you weren’t only the one being fucked by Sam. 
You felt gross. The inkling worry that filled you previously turned out to be right. You just hated yourself for blindly trusting her and giving further meaning to her mistaken gentleness. 
::
Honestly, you did plan that to be your last time to see Sam.
At least temporarily, you wanted to avoid her. You kept making excuses about how you had a lot of work to do. You knew it was unrealistic to actually avoid her forever, not when you literally were tangled with her on her sheets for a couple of months already. Unless you were to flee the country, of course. The idea is slightly tempting. You consider it, albeit impractical, it’s one of your last resort of choices. 
You were used to her scent from her bedsheets to her clothes and to her sleepy self arguing that she is very much awake during your random movie nights, her voice – everything revolves around Sam now and you hated it.
It felt like you were a teenager again with a hopeless crush on the girl you’ve liked from afar for years.
Even as you pulled away from Sam, your brain was racking through heaps of what-if thoughts – were you ever enough? Why did she have to make you feel so special, leading you into this domestic bliss? She always made time. Besides the good, you witnessed her downs, the aggressiveness, how her indistinguishable job took a toll on her. All because she let you in. You wondered why she even thought of you as worthy as such, yet made you feel of being less than that, at the same time?
However, if there is a light to all of this domesticity you shared with Sam that gave you warmth, there were also a lot of questionable actions that she specifically kept on doing. She appeared hesitant with dropping you off to your house and insists that one of her drivers will do the honors instead – with the sex on the table, it made you feel disposable and cheap – or how sometimes hours after sex; you get a sleepy glimpse of Sam sneaking onto the balcony. The faint noises of her raised voice in her phone, doing god knows what – you were there, unaware if it was a conversation with another woman and maybe, just maybe, Samantha Loomis wasn't as heartfelt as you naively believed her to be.
As you expected she didn’t drop by at your house. Her little gifts and take outs from restaurants that you liked and visited with her continued to be sent every weekend. You didn’t know whether it was out of pity or a proper goodbye in her own terms, making your stomach churn uncomfortably at the thought.
Your friends weren’t any less worried even with your now constant appearances for hangouts and karaoke nights, they gently explained that your mind often fled elsewhere and your gloomy disposition was noticeable. It’s not that they were annoyed, your friends were concerned more than anything. So, you finally open up but not too much. You retell you were in this Friends with benefits recently and it ruined your sanity, for better or worse, all in vague descriptions. After all, you were sure that now Sam was more likely ashamed of being seen by you and wanted to keep her bachelorette status.
The chorus of oh sweetie in an understanding tone immediately came and when they hugged you, it worsened the longing you felt for Sam and how you have been entangled with her this whole time.
“It sucks how you can get roped into that so suddenly.” Jane, your friend, empathised. “does that count as a situationship – or whatever it is they call it nowadays?”
“Let’s call it friends with benefits for the sake of simplicity.” Margo, the colleague who ironically was one of the main reasons why you got into the gala and met Sam, nodded her head with no hesitation. “I don’t understand why it is that hard to communicate something simple as that. And getting her fix of pleasure in another place, too, Jesus Christ.”
“Feels a bit of a power trip to me. Based on what you’ve said, how she’s got a sexy mysterious vibe going on and while that sounds sexy in other ways, I can only imagine how it must’ve taken a toll on you, (y/n).” Jane adds with a forlorn expression on her face.
They were expressive with their opinions - you liked how your friends were very protective of you. They felt betrayed almost as much as you do soon as you mentioned that Sam was a friend of yours way back.
Although, you hated how there’s a lump in your throat and a part of you was ready to jump in Sam’s defense. Before you drown more in the thoughts of her, you decided to pour another shot. 
“Fuck that. Let’s drink to this,” your words come out slurred and your friends only follow suit.
Sam didn’t stop spamming you with messages. It was expected considering that she’s the most insistent person you have met yet. Still, you shrug her off, saying that you work overtime these days and you don’t feel like being a booty call for a while – or ever for her. But Sam’s resolve proved to be unwavering as she updated you about her thoughts and invites of coming back home; her words, not yours.
::
“You know, if you’re up for it, you should totally meet this girl. Most blunt person I’ve met yet, so.” Margo indiscreetly implies that it shouldn’t be as troublesome as your previous limbo was. “She’s also really hot. And just down for either something casual or serious, depends how you talk about it.”
“Margo, you know I don’t think–” you shake your head. Besides being full of what-ifs and considering that you might have a good time, your thoughts keep bouncing back to a specific Latina in your mind.
Your mind swirls, not knowing why it feels like a betrayal deep down.
“Just give it a chance.” Margo interrupts, firm with her stand. “One date. It’s also been almost two weeks since you’ve been moping. You know we don’t mind that but- I just wanted to tell you that the dating pool is full of choices. 
What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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dizscreams · 2 years ago
Text
I wanna ruin our friendship PT 2 — Tara Carpenter ★
part one here!
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PAIRING: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Tara’s confession to you after accidentally friend zoning you for so long
A/N: OKAY HERES PART TWO!! ty for all the positive feedback on part 1! :)
TAGS: @perfectartisanwerewolf @icarly23 @dogsayswoof @btay3115 @cartierdreamx
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“Hello? Y/n? I’m coming to your dorm right now can you meet me there, it’s important,” Tara spoke quickly and bit the nail on her thumb shakily while she paced back and forth.
“Um sure Tara, is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, just hurry,” and with that Tara hung the phone up leaving you dumbfounded. You looked at your date apologetically and gathered your things, “Shit, I’m sorry but I have to go-“
“What, Is something wrong?”
“It’s just my friend she wants me to meet her right away, I think it’s important,” you said standing up.
“Do you want me to bring you home?” They ask stuttering from the abruptness of the situation.
You turn to face them, “No, I’m okay, but thank you! I had a good time tonight,” you give them a sweet smile before hurrying out the restaurant’s door. You wonder what Tara could want.
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When Tara hung up she wasted no time in running out of her bedroom door.
“Mindy!” Tara yelled while walking in the living room where all her friends sat. “I’m meeting y/n at your dorm, could you come with me and let me in?” She talked so fast, Mindy almost couldn’t keep up with what she was asking.
“Can’t I just give you the keys?” Mindy asked raising an eyebrow at the frantic girl.
Tara rolled her eyes, she was annoyed and in a rush, “I mean you could, but I need you there with me so I don’t say anything stupid to her.”
“But-“
“No buts Mindy! C’mon on lets go lets go!” Tara ran up to the girl and dragged her out of her seat, “this is important!”
“Okay okay!” Mindy groaned and put her hands up in defense, “I’ll go with you, Jesus.” She muttered.
“Thank you!”
And with that they both quickly left. Tara practically running while Mindy struggled to keep up.
When Tara and Mindy made it to the dorm they barely had time to settle in before you walked in, a worried expression on your face. Your eyes darted between Tara and Mindy, “Hey, is everything okay? Did you guys get hurt or something?” You asked out of breath, it was clear you ran here and that made Tara smile a bit knowing you still really cared about her.
“Y/n, hi,” Tara says softly, “um I just wanted to talk to you about something.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “So, nobody died? On the phone you sounded like you got hurt or something and what’s Mindy doing here?”
“Um hello, I live in this dorm too-“ Tara cut off Mindy’s sentence by lightly slapping her arm and giving her a look. Mindy sighed and rolled her eyes before sitting down, she might as well get comfortable if she has to witness this.
“I brought Mindy to let me in..” Tara started saying embarrassed, “…and cause I wanted her support .” She muttered and you barely made out what she said. She looked at you for a moment. Your breathing was more even than before and that confused look she found so adorable was still stuck on your face.
Mindy cleared her throat loud enough to snap Tara out of her trance. “Right, okay.“ You waited for her next words patiently, the poor girl seemed so nervous you thought she’d throw up. Tara composed herself, if she was going to do this she was going to do it right.
“Y/n, you’re my best friend and I don’t see you as a best friend. I mean you mean more to me than that.” Mindy resisted the urge to face palm herself and your confused state didn’t change. Fuck. “I mean I like you and I don’t like Chad. I flirt with Chad but I don’t mean it, I just like him- him as a friend. He’s my friend and you- you’re not. I mean you are!”
“Okay!” Mindy intervened getting second hand embarrassment. She turned to you, “I apologize for Tara. She can’t be romantic at all,” she said glancing at Tara then looking back at you. She said something to you that Tara couldn’t make out and left.
She couldn’t quite read the expression that was now on your face but she knew you were calm and that eased her a bit. “Tara why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some water,” you said already walking to the kitchen. Tara nodded, “Yeah, sure.” She took a deep breath and when she made sure you were in the kitchen she pulled out her phone and texted Mindy.
T 🤭 ‎ WHERE TF DID YOU GO??
Mindy 😘 ‎ I was getting embarrassed for you, T. Have you never confessed to someone before?
T 🤭 ‎ It wasn’t even that bad
Mindy 😘 ‎ Right that’s why Anika’s laughing at you rn
T 🤭 ‎ YOU ARE SUCH A TATTLETALE
Dude I need your help
Mindy 😘 ‎ Just be like “y/n I’ve liked you for a long time I’m sorry I’m too stupid to realize you were flirting with me. I flirt with Chad as a joke and he feels the same. we don’t like each other like that. I really like you and I would like to take you on a date” boom it’s plain and simple babes
T 🤭 ‎ Anika helped you with that didn’t she
Mindy 😘 ‎ Can you stfu and go confess your undying love
T 🤭 ‎ Tell Ani thank you and that I love her
She put her phone down at the sound of you walking back in the living room, “Here.” Your gentle tone made her heart melt. “Thanks,” Tara sipped the water and put it on the coffee table. She took another deep breath, “Let me start over, y/n. I really want to make this right.”
You nodded at her to continue. Tara patted the spot next to her urging you to sit next to her on the couch, which you did. “Okay so, I like you. I like you as more of a friend, y/n. You just mean so much to me and I’m sorry I didn’t realize you liked me. I’m sorry you thought I liked Chad cause I don’t,” she chuckled softly before continuing, “and I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
You looked at her only to find she was staring right at you. The soft grin that took over your features had Tara’s stomach erupting in butterflies. It gave Tara the hope that she had made things right. You took Tara’s hand and put it in yours, gently tracing her knuckles with your thumb. “I like you too, T.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Thank you.”
She matched your tone, “You’re welcome.”
The two of you had a moment looking into each other eyes and grinning like idiots before you broke the silence. “So which one of them helped you rehearse that?”
“Huh?” Tara asked with a tilt of her head and you giggled. “I don’t know I was just wondering if Mindy or Anika helped you with that cause that was really good. It was definitely better than what you had said when I first came in.” Tara laughed loudly at that, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was Anika.”
When both of you calmed down from laughing Tara decided to break the silence this time, “Will you go out with me?”
You almost scoffed, “I thought you’d never ask.”
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YAYAY AND THERE IT IS! Hope everyone likes it, I had fun with it :)
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eternal-love · 3 months ago
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Austin and Me
“Taste”
“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”
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Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.
Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.
I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts
English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!
MASTERLIST
I was pregnant. Goddamn it. Look, I was married and I knew this would happen, just not so fast. I know that Lori was four years old but it was still pretty fast for me.
However I grew to accept it, now I was less lonely during my pregnancy. I had Lori, I wasn’t mopping the floor like I did when I was pregnant with her. I hoped it would be a girl, I wanted to be able to reuse all the cute clothes Lori used. But if it was a boy, I wouldn’t mind him looking like Austin. I’ve seen pictures of Austin when he was a kid, a baby if you will— he was the cutest baby you could ever see.
But it pained me, I wanted to be able to resume my career but I guess I had to wait. I spent days reading scripts that came in.
I wanted more challenging roles. My dream role was to play into a medieval drama. Play a Queen or a Princess. That would totally be fun, it was something I desired to do for a long time. I have played mostly in horror movies. I was a scream queen. But I wanted something more.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Lori called me, bringing me out my thoughts.
“Yes?” I responded, pinching myself as I felt like daydreaming.
“Horsie!” Lori said excitedly as she held her little gloves.
“Sweetheart. I’m pregnant you know I cannot—“
“But I want to! Please?” Lori gave me her cute puppy eyes and I could not resist her.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
I hadn’t spoken about this before. Remember our house? Strawberry Fields, well. It was in Rodeo Drive, fair enough— the land was immense. We had a stable with our horses.
My horse was named Dolly and Lori’s was Cookie. It was a small horse, and it was Dolly’s child. Our bond went beyond that of mother and daughter. Even our horses were mother and daughter. Austin liked horses too, that’s why he had his own— Whiskey.
I loved riding horses. Most of my life I grew up on a ranch with my grandparents. I knew how to treat cattle and how to treat horses. But I loved horses too much. Unlike having our dog, I felt like the bond with my horses was much more stronger.
I knew I shouldn’t be on horseback but Lori wanted to. So I took Cookie from her box stall and placed Lori on top of the horse. Getting her firm on the saddle.
I walked around with them, gently holding onto Cookie. Lori reminded me so much of me when I was little. That innocence one had when you were oblivious to the world surrounding you. I remember being her age, not knowing the economic situation my parents were going through, or their marriage problems. I began to wonder, if it’s really worth it growing up. If it’s really just the physical changes or if also your whole soul changed.
Because I knew that if my younger self looked at me now, she’d think I was the coolest woman she’d ever seen. And just because— she didn’t have a sense of what suffering was.
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Callum was in town, the man really thought Austin was oblivious to his once affair with Cynthia. Dumbass. He should’ve known. He accepted Austin’s offer to go to a bar.
Callum arrived with good face, smiling at Austin. They ordered their drinks. It was a cozy closed bar. Austin smiled at Callum as they both took sips of their drinks before he spoke.
“Listen, man. I know you’re sleeping with my wife.”
Callum almost spat out his entire swig, Jesus Christ above him would punish him once he time came.
“What? Mate, that’s a reach.” Callum laughed, sipping his drink awkwardly.
“You can’t fool me. You know? I was stupid back then before noticing it.” Austin could kill with the look he was giving Callum, really. “Did you enjoy screwing with what was mine? With— what gave me my beautiful daughter? I bet you loved the feeling of burying your pathetic dick onto her.”
“Listen. Okay. I did it, and as a matter of fact— I enjoyed every second of it. Sorry.” Callum said, putting his glass down, his finger gently tracing the edge of the cup.
They were both drinking the same goddamn drink.
“You know, she used to make me this drink every time we had sex. Uh— the sex was good.” Callum smirked. It took everything in Austin to not punch him, because they were in public.
“Watch it.”
“Why? It was good, you know if. You knocked her up once. You must absolutely know how tight she is.” It was like Callum enjoyed taking about it.
“I was here first. I took her first. You don’t get to come here and steal my wife just because you thought you could be fucking Robin Hood and help her out.”
“I couldn’t leave a wife out there feeling neglected. This is your fault, mate. You should’ve been there for her. I’m sorry she chose me as her company.” Callum smirked.
“She won’t choose you, you know? She’s too tied to me now that she won’t be able to even think about it. She’s pregnant again.”
Callum’s smirk faltered a bit but he kept his composure. Leaning in.
“Every time you kiss her, you will taste me too. You know? She gave me head many times. And every time you go down on her, you’ll taste me too. You can have her— I ain’t complaining about sharing.”
Austin clenched his fists before he slowly spoke, leaning in, whispering.
“You son of a bitch.” Austin slammed his fist on the table, catching the attention to himself but he was able to get it off him. “You son of a bitch.” Austin repeated before getting up.
“We can be a little threesome one day.” Callum said with a smirk.
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Austin came back to the house an hour later, I didn’t notice him coming. Until I heard his voice.
“There you are!”
I turned around from petting Cookie. I sighed, I thought I had a little more freedom before he came back. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Shame consumed me. Sometimes I felt I was too dumb. Why was I ashamed when he never felt ashamed of doing the same to me.
“My favorite girls.” Austin said, smiling at us. Lori immediately got excited. She loved her daddy.
“She wanted to ride.” I said, patting Cookie once again.
“I want a ride too…” He said, squeezing my waist then his hand traveled to my ass.
I was surprised that he was— horny. Damnit, I should’ve known. Every time he was like that, it was because he had thought about or SEEN Callum.
Next thing you know, he made me passionate love all night. I didn’t remember him being this gentle or sweet. He told me that he did his homework and investigated about pregnancy sex I didn’t know that he was doing this because he wanted me to stop TASTING like Callum, as if he could erase what Callum had once done to me. His hands, his smell, his taste.
Afterwards, Austin cuddled up with me. Kissing my shoulder and neck softly.
“You do love me, right?” He muttered to me. “More than him.”
I stayed silent. Of course I loved him, but I was used to him rejecting my love at times.
“Do you love me?” He asked me once again, sitting up and looking at him.
“What a stupid question.” I responded and he stayed quiet.
Now he felt self-conscious of himself. Perhaps I cheated on him because Callum was fitter, taller, more charismatic, better than him
It was a cold answer.
But now he knew what it feels like.
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UNI IS KILLING ME. I finished writing this at my English class.
Love y’all. 🫶❤️
I have another version of this but the character is different. But it has a MUCH MORE EXTENSIVE LORE.
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madaboutmunson · 1 year ago
Text
Wishin' And Hopin'
Telepathy (Prompt A2 ) Summary: In which Eddie realises he might have some residual power from The Upside-Down and plans to use it in the best way he knows how, to impress the guy he's had a crush on for months
Word Count: 2740 @eddiemunsonbingo
AO3 Link ******************************************************************
Healing from the aftermath of The Upside-Down was a struggle. There was no denying that, but two very awesome things happened due to that epic shit fest.
Larvae and Germs of the jury I present to you:
Exhibit A: Getting to spend a lot of alone time with one disgustingly handsome Steve Harrington, who basically looked after me like he was my sexy nurse.
Exhibit B: Some juvenile stage telepathy.
We’ll get back to that fine specimen of Exhibit A later.
Let us first deal with Exhibit B.
So, at first, it was just kinda weird. I was half-watching Wheel of Fortune with Wayne while brainstorming some campaign ideas, and I could hear him repeatedly shouting a word of the answer. Honestly, I love him, but repetition in the same monotonous tone was getting right on my last nerve, like a smoke alarm that needs new batteries. Except no beep, just  “World” over and fucking over. 
So, I, well, okay, not my finest moment, but I might have lost my cool and said a little loudly, “IT’S ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!”
He clutched his pearls and recoiled into his corner of the sofa, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed and had the cheek to say, “Jesus Christ, Eddie. Ya nearly sent me straight to the pearly gates!”
“I was helping you with the answer you were evidently struggling with!” 
“Eddie, there ain’t a single song that left the beauty of Karen Carpenter’s mouth that I don’t know. Just ‘cus I don’t blurt out the answer to ruin it for the whole trailer park!” “Ok! Alright! So I can’t say the full answer, but you can keep repeating one word of the answer repeatedly. Like that wasn’t going to annoy the fuck out of me. You’re deliberately bein’ an antagonistic asshole, Wayne!”
Then he just looked at me. Like how he looks at those Canadian geese when they get too close to him at the park, “Eddie, I didn't say a word.”
Now I rolled my eyes and gave it the whole raspberry award at his performance, which did almost have me going, by the way, but the way he just continued to stare at me and look me over like I’d just fallen out of the sky. I knew he wasn’t lyin’. That’s when I started to get scared. I thought I’d slipped into one of those Vecna vision things.
“What did you hear, Ed?”
“You were sayin’ ‘World’ over and over.”
“I was saying the answer, but not out loud, Ed. Just in my mind.”
“Ok, well, that’s ridiculous. How could I possibly hear what's going on in your mind?”
“Fuck if I know. What am I thinking now?”
“Are you serious right now? I’m on the edge of sanity here, and you are making out like I’m Luke Skywalker or some shit? That's it. I’m going to bed! You know Steve doesn't pull this shit when it’s his turn babysitting me!”
I grabbed my crutch and started hobbling over to my room, and he started up again, this time with ‘Discombobulated.’ 
I turn round, and he’s wide-eyed, staring at me, gulping down his beer. I was just about to give him a piece of my mind when he pulled the beer from his lips with a gasp and said, “Now, if I was drinkin’, there ain’t no way I coulda said that word. For the record, I can’t for the life o’ me say that word out loud anyways. But I can think it.”
“Fine, let's play your silly game, old timer. Do it again. This time with me watchin’ your lyin’ ass!”
He knocked back his beer again, and I was ready for his lame-ass ventriloquism when I heard him clear as a bell “Bill”. I hobble over to check he’s not talking out of the side of his mouth or some shit, but he wasn’t
“Bill?”
“Yeah! It's a miracle, Eddie! You can read minds!”
“OK, don’t alert the Pope just yet. It might be some creepy shit left over from that messed up place we were stuck in.”
“We should practice!” He said as he frantically pulled me back to the sofa.
“Who the hell is Bill, by the way?”
“It's not a he. It's a what. I was saying, ‘Remember to pay the telephone bill.’ “
So we tried all different things for a few hours every day for the next few nights when he wasn't at work, but all I could ever get was one word, which had to be quite an intense thought. Fleeting ones just didn't hit my radar. So I guess if my telepathy was a developing human, it would be in the butt shuffling to the almost crawling stage.
I tried it around town, and boy, do the people of Hawkins have a lot of fucking issues! Ha! The ones that look like a curse word would knock them dead are the worst of the lot!
So, the moment you’ve all been waiting for back to Exhibit A!
So naturally, when my rugged Florence Nightingale came a-callin’, I had to try it out. I am only human. Who wouldn’t wanna know what is going on in that pretty lil’ head of his underneath that voluminous mane?
So, I started with something small. I put on a scary movie. He jump-scares pretty easily for a guy who’s fought freakish things from other dimensions in melee range. When one of the characters went to the basement instead of out the door, I could hear a faint ‘always’.
“God, they always do that, don’t they? It’s so dumb, right?”
He turned to me with that ediblely cute half-smile and said, “Weird, I was just thinking that!”
“Great minds think alike, I guess? But we are kinda both watching the same thing.” 
His puppy dog eyes flick up to the ceiling because, apparently, that is where all the answers are for Steve. His thinking face, urgh, stunning! Don’t get me started! He gave a shrug, nodded and went back to watching the movie.
After a while, I got a much louder word, ‘Pizza.’
I can’t make it too obvious, so I try to get up and head to the kitchen, and he’s on it like butter on a biscuit, “You hungry? Sorry, Eddie, I should have made something before the movie. I won’t be long.” Then I got “Eat,” so I knew I was on the right track.
“Hey, uh, save you cookin’. Why don’t we order a pizza?”
“Pizza? I mean, yeah, I could go for it, but I thought you said last week you didn't wanna eat anything you couldn’t see prepared, in case the government put trackers in it?”
He was right; I did say that and meant it. But who in their right mind would deprive this stud muffin of his cheesy treat, huh? Not me, that's for sure, because I know what happens when Steve gets happy.
He smiles big, and his honey-flecked eyes cast down and back up, “Thanks, Ed. I’ve been thinking about one all week, but it's a waste on my own.”
“We lucky for you, Steve, you have the gift of my presence this evening, so you don’t have to worry about that, and if we don't finish any, I know Wayne will snaffle it when he gets back.”
Then he let out one of those sweet little laughs he does, and I had to wait for him to turn his back to me so I could clench my fists and wrinkle up my nose in some weird kinda cuteness aggression.
Then I heard ‘Hot.’
So when he asked me what kind I wanted, I said, “I dunno, I’m feeling like a little spice could really hit the spot tonight.”
That earned me a hip pop and a finger gun, wink combo before he turned back around to order, twirling the cable around his finger, and I got a picture-perfect view of that ass for a minute or so. 
Then, until the pizza turned up and the entire time we ate it, the word didn't change. ‘Hot’, that's all he’s thinking about.
I figured it might be too spicy for him, so I grabbed two yoohoos from the fridge and set one in front of him without asking this time.
“Oh, thanks, but I’m good Ed. I still got some beer left over.” 
I thought maybe he didn't wanna show that the spice was getting to him, but I left the drink there all the same.
The pizza is long transferred to the kitchen, and we were well into Steve’s movie of choice at this point, Ghostbusters. I can’t get much of anything for a while, but he seems fully absorbed in the film, laughing along and quoting some of the lines. I loved that movie, but I’d have given my other nipple to have Steve be my personal reenactor of the film for the rest of my days. 
I got up to take a leak, and I could hear ‘Hot’ again. So, on my way out of the bathroom, I collect a table fan, put it on the coffee table, and switch it on. The room didn't feel that warm to me, but I knew Steve ran like a furnace. You only had to be within a few inches of him to luxuriate in that fucking man-heat of his. 
Look, I know that's weird ok, but as someone who runs fucking cold, I’m into it, alright? So just keep your opinions to yourself.
My prize for cooling down my summery prince? A fucking confused frown! He took the remote and paused the movie, “Do you want me to get you some shorts or something rather than the fan? They tend to be a little quieter and less expensive to run.” He made a joke, and I laughed embarrassingly hard at it.
“You don’t feel warm in here?”
“No, man. Are you ok? You feeling ill?” Then his hands are on me. Well, okay, he was just checking how warm my forehead was, and my pulse, but facts are facts.
“No, I’m good, man. So good. I just thought you looked warm.” Then he blushes. It was as if someone had crushed red roses onto his cheeks. His pretty little pout dropped open, and for the first time in a long time, he actually looked awkward. I would have consoled him immediately, but I got distracted because he ran his hand through the side of his hair, and I wouldn’t miss a beat of that move, not even if my knees were on fire.
“Well, I’m not. I-I can explain that. I, um…yeah…I kinda tried some of Robin’s moisturiser on my skin because she said it made it look good, and it's probably just making me look shiny. I’ll just…yeah…I’m just gonna go wash my face.”
Then I got a new word, ‘Fuck’
And I still can’t tell you what possessed me to do so, but when he got up to leave, I grabbed his arm, “Don’t do that, man, you look great. It's, uh,  not shiny at all. Your skin is as perfect as it always looks. I just read you wrong, that's all.”
Then he’s staring at my hand, and that word comes back again ‘Hot.’
And then, okay, maybe because I’m touching him properly for the first time, not a nudge in the ribs or the brush of the back of my hand. Usually, he’s the one touching me for medical purposes, obviously, but I’m not a moron. I’ll fucking take that as a win. Thank you very much.
Or maybe it's the way he looked right in my eyes. I don't know, but I caved. I spilt my guts. The quality control between my brain and mouth had gone out to lunch.
“Then why do you keep thinking ‘hot’?”
His eyebrows nearly shot off his face, “What?”
“You! You keep thinking the word ‘hot’. I can kinda read thoughts, well, just words. Well, just word, actually.”
“You-you…What? You can read my thoughts?”
“No, it's not as advanced as that.” Then, I explained everything that me and Wayne had been practising.
“Shit, do I need to call everyone? Is it upside-down stuff?”
“I dunno, maybe, but I don’t feel unwell, and nothing else weird has happened. Wayne is still okay, and we’ve been trialling it for a while now.” That seemed to take him out of panic mode and into something more relaxed.
“Huh. So you can hear a word but don’t have the context, right.” Then he stops, squints, and tilts his head with a big smile, “That's why you ordered the Pizza. That's why you picked a spicy one, the drinks and the fan! Ok, ok, that makes sense now.”
“Yeah, sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to try it out, and maybe that was desperately underhanded of me, and I shouldn't have, but…”
“You wanted to impress me?” He raised his eyebrow at me, and honestly, the sofa could have consumed me whole, and I wouldn’t have noticed because then I was stalled, and the engine wouldn’t turn, “Eddie?”
“You just do so much for me, and most of the time, you guess what I want or need without any help, and I thought, maybe I could give that back to you, you know? I thought it would be cool.”
He could have killed me with the next smirk and head shake he gave me before shutting off the fan, settling back in his seat, and unpausing the movie. I felt like I’d gotten away with it and shuffled back, too.
A few minutes later, I heard ‘You.’
When I glanced at him, he was frowning hard at the TV screen. The word silenced as he turned to me with a beaming smile, “If you get it, tap my arm.”
“OK, sure. That could be fun.”
‘Are’ Tap.
‘So’ Tap
“Stupid?” I had blurted out at the same time as that word of the night came crashing back into my head
‘Hot’ ………….tap
Steve’s face fell, and he scrambled to get up, “Sorry Eddie. Shit. I just thought. You know what. I don't know what I thought, ok. I’m-yeah. Fuck! I’m just gonna go.”
I rushed to scramble after him, but I couldn’t seem to get my usual motormouth going because my whole brain was mush due to a demi-god calling me, ME,  hot! Fucking hell, fellow perverts, I tell you this. If, at that point, I had been an able-bodied man and hadn't been on a one-way journey to the floor. Steve Harrington would have been out that door, and I probably would never have seen him again. But I’m not, and he’s a fucking superhero, so naturally, he just caught me in his stupidly perfect sculpted arms that were trying desperately to break free from that uptight polo shirt he loves to wear.
“I-I-I-I thought you were gonna say stupid. I mean, think. I mean….you know what I mean. What I mean is I didn't mean what you said was stupid!
He just blinked at me as he set me to my feet, still holding me upright, looking over me, checking I was okay.
Then, instead of letting me go, he stared right into my eyes, and how I didn't end up back on the floor again, I don't know. I can only imagine it was because his goddamn thick, taught, tanned thighs were enough support for both of us.
‘Kiss,’ I heard and stood there like a gormless idiot.
‘Kiss’, and until that point, all the words I’d heard had been just a flat tone, but this one shouted in my head. So I put on my big boy pants and tapped his arm, even though my mouth felt like the desert.
“Now?” I croaked out, and he nodded in response.
So, I did what any red-blooded human would have done in my situation. I attempted to climb that man like a tree, failed, then with his assistance tried again and succeeded, and gave him the kiss I’d been storing up for months.
Now, now be good, fair readers. Avert your fucking eyes. The rest of that evening is all mine. Let’s just say he liked that kiss. 
A lot. 
He was very appreciative. 
Many times. 
So much, in fact, he’s still walking around our house mentally shouting for them five years later.
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sxmpfxrortega · 1 year ago
Text
Blinded by Secrets
an: hello :) i am back and *not so* better than ever. I'm gonna be doing multiple chapters of this because there's quite a lot.
Warnings: blood, kissing (later on), nsfw (also later on), mentions of unalivings
ps. this is a g!p reader story :)
hope you enjoy!
/////////////////////////// 1 /////////////////////////////////
It was a chilly night in New York, you were getting goosebumps despite your robe and your mask.
The wind picks up as you near the river, you let out an exasperated huff.
You take the lifeless body that was once over your shoulder and sit him on the ledge, dumping him into the water.
As he begins to sink, your phone dings; it's a message from Tara, your best friend.
Tara: Hey, where are you? The friend group's been looking for you... you're making us worried.
You sigh in frustration as you hit the call button, calling her.
Tara picks up after the first ring, her voice filled with worry.
"Hey, are you okay? We thought something terrible happened to you. Where are you?" she fires off quickly.
You laugh into the phone, finding her rapid fire of questions adorable, "Uh-no? I had to pick up my little brother from his friend's house. I'm sorry, he had a panic attack." You lied easily to her despite the feeling of hatred you had for yourself doing so... but you can't let her know what you've just done.
The relief in her voice can be heard, "Oh my god, is he okay? Are you still with him?"
You sigh a little, your head has a dull pounding, "I just dropped him off, I'm heading to the apartment in a bit, I need to change."
She sounds more relaxed once you say that, but you can still hear a tinge of worry laced in her voice, "Why do you have to change? Is something wrong?"
Shit. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that.
You stammer slightly, trying to think of something quickly, "No, yeah, everything's fine, I just uh... spilled some coffee in my lap. You know me, clumsy and now unfortunately sticky."
You laugh awkwardly and slap your forehead and think to yourself, 'nice one, jackass'
Luckily, she laughs as well, "You and coffee stains don't go well together, huh?"
You smile and imagine that cute smile that shows her dimples.
God, are you a simp or are you a simp?
You chuckle softly, "It definitely is better consumed, I must say."
She giggles sweetly at your sarcasm, more relaxed, "Okay well... you said you'll be here soon? How long will you be?"
You think to yourself for a moment, your eyes scanning the dark alleyway, "Uh... give me like 20 and I'll be there."
You can practically hear the smile in her voice, "Alright, hurry up then, I'm ready for some cuddles."
You're taken aback, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, "O-oh?"
Your brain is malfunctioning as you tug at the collar of your robe.
She laughs deviously, "You heard me."
Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, barely able to formulate a sentence, "How could I resist?"
She laughs, "You can't, so hurry up. I miss you, dork."
Your heart is hammering in your chest, and just for a moment, you forgot you just dumped a body into the river.
"Who all's there right now?" You say, clearing your throat, trying hard to regain your composure.
She takes a breath before responding, "Quinn, Ethan, and me. We're in the middle of a game, but I want you right now."
Your eyebrows raise at how bold she was being.
Jesus Christ, Tara Carpenter will be the death of you, and you're more than okay with that.
Your words are quiet, "Where's your sister, goober? She hardly leaves you alone."
She lets out an exaggerated sigh, "I know, I'm surprised as well... she's actually with the guy next door. Now will you please stop playing 20 questions with me and get here so I can see you!?"
You can hear the pout in her tone and practically see the puppy dog eyes.
You chuckle at her, "Ma'am yes ma'am, don't wanna keep you waiting."
She giggles cutely, "Finally, I can't wait to see you."
You smile to yourself a bit at her dramatics, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"
"Okay, hurry it up." She says with a laugh.
You hang up the phone and sigh harder, looking down at your body.
You have blood all over you from the person you just killed.
You rip your Ghostface outfit off and throw it in the gym bag in your trunk.
Jumping in the driver's seat, you speed off to your apartment to change.
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alexmeeksmartin · 2 years ago
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chosen family - pt i
pairing(s): wes hicks x male reader, slight chad meeks-martin x male reader
synopsis: the one where y/n roberts, survivor of the 2011 woodsboro massacre and brother of ghostface killer, jill roberts, is roped into another string of murders when his friend, tara carpenter, is attacked by someone taking on the moniker
a/n: new series! not sure if i’ll end up finishing this, but i would like to at least do a couple parts! hope u enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k
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it was more than enough to struggle with the fact that your sister, jill roberts, had decided to stab you alongside your mother when you were only eight years old. ironically enough, your fame-hungry sister’s sickening plot to become a sole survivor is what thrust you into the limelight. for years, the media hounded you about the ghostface killings of 2011. it took you forever to get a group of friends who wouldn’t try abuse your connections. you were finally in a stable position…
…but now some fucker had decided to put on that damned mask and go stabbing again.
“that was sam.” your boyfriend, wes, let everyone know. you were all together, minus tara, obviously. you, wes, chad, mindy, amber, and liv. and nobody was taking this seriously, not even you at this stage. none of you had really processed it all properly yet.
you watched as amber’s interest was immediately piqued. “she’s coming?”
“yeah.”
“watch everything get worse.” amber says with a sigh, clearly unhappy about sam’s upcoming return to woodsboro.
“listen, all i’m saying is, with everything going on right now, i think it’s time we take our relationship to the next, most intimate level!” chad pleads with liv, doing his best to convince her.
“yuck.” you add across from the happy couple.
“it’s fine, y/n. he only wants me to accept his ‘find my fam’ request.” liv explains to you, removing the expression of disgust from of your face.
“it’s the smartest option with a would-be killer on the loose. you know exactly where i am and i know exactly where you are.” chad continues, building up his case.
“aw, you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend.” liv giggles.
“and you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend.” chad jokes as you and mindy make eye contact, signalling to each other your repulsion towards chad and liv at that moment in time with just one look of your eyes. it’s funny how much two best friends can say in just a glance.
“is this because you two aren’t having sex yet?” amber bluntly asks, looking between the two of them.
“you actually bring up a very good point! not that i want to sound like a stereotypical jock, trying to get into his girlfriend’s pants-“
“great!” liv says, stopping chad.
“come on, wes, you get what i mean?” chad asks, trying unsuccessfully to get some back up, but you shoot wes a death stare, making him think carefully about his next words.
“absolutely not. i wouldn’t dare.” wes begins, clarifying that he doesn’t agree with chad to you before moving onto liv, “don’t do it, liv, there’s some pyscho out there. you make yourself harder to find. delete social media, tape over your phone camera, disable gps-“
“yes, thank you very much, edward snowden.” chad says, cutting wes off. “actually, your mother just interrogated me about tara’s attempted murder.”
“i’m sure she’s asking everybody, i mean, ghostface is back.” wes responds. a chill goes down your spine at the very mention of the masked murderer.
“she hasn’t asked me.” you chuck into conversation, noticing how the sheriff hadn’t even seemed to have looked your way yet.
“yeah, because you’re like sheriff riley’s adoptive son. plus, you and her went through the same thing.” liv says.
“ex sheriff riley.” mindy adds, “also, the press still isn’t saying ghostface.” and another chill.
“my mom doesn’t want to cause a panic.” wes explains.
“it’ll get out by the second or third killing.” mindy says, nonchalantly.
“mindy, come on.” you say. you loved her, but her insensitivity could be an issue on occasion.
“jesus, mindy, there wasn’t a first killing. tara’s still alive.” amber says, slightly angry.
“that means she could still die.”
“what the fuck?” amber is progressively getting more and more agitated at this conversation, you note.
“or the killer could come back for her.”
“fuck, mindy!” chad says as you screw your face up, “come on.”
“i’m just telling you, arm up, okay? pepper spray, check, taser, check-“ wes lists off his weapons.
“y/n in the bedroom repellent, check.” amber cuts in, laughing at him.
“again, ew.” you say, turning away from amber to wes, “i’m glad you’re keeping yourself safe.” you smile at your boyfriend.
“keeping us safe.” he says, pulling you into his arms.
“oh, shit, is that… vince?” liv asks.
“wait. that creep you hooked up with last summer?” chad asks liv, concern immediately showing on his face.
“yeah, he worked with me and tara.”
“he worked with tara?” amber asks inquisitively.
“he’s been stalking my instagram the last couple weeks, posting the creepiest shit.” liv adds.
“probably time to introduce him to hobbs and shaw.” chad says, flexing his biceps.
liv puts his arm down to his side. “maybe not the best idea to incite violence right in front of the sheriff. looks like he’s leaving.”
“plus, i don’t think ‘hobbs and shaw’ are scaring anyone with names like that.” you say, laughing at chad.
“oh, please. you’d love to take hobbs and shaw for a spin.” chad retorts, smiling back at you.
“tara says she fought back hard. you’ve got bruises.” amber states, observing chad’s somewhat battered and blue arms.
“from football practice.” he says, defending himself.
“oh, sure-“
“tara’s awake! she just texted.” wes says, his face lighting up. “i’m going to the hospital, you guys coming?”
mutters of ‘yes’ and ‘sure’ are said by your friends, but what stands out is liv saying: “i can’t, but i’ll meet you guys later.” another thing to take mental note of.
“alright, i’ll see you later.” chad says, kissing liv on the cheek goodbye. you wait up for chad as wes, mindy, and amber walk on ahead and descend into playful conversation him.
you were all gathered in tara’s room at the hospital, with wes’ arm draped around your neck as you sit on the chair right beside tara’s bed. amber stands over you with a very concerned look on her face as the twins make small talk on the other side of the room.
the door opens, and everyone looks to it. sam. sam and- who?
“you came.” tara says with a small smile.
“of course i came.” sam says, giving her sister a very gentle and light hug. “this is my boyfriend, richie.”
that explains who the random guy is.
“it’s so nice to meet you, i’m so sorry if i’m intruding.” richie says to tara.
“nice to meet you too.”
“hi. thank you for calling.” sam says, giving wes a hug.
“of course.”
“look at your hair! i like it.” sam compliments, ruffling your boyfriend’s hair like she’s his mother.
you get up and embrace sam. god, you’d missed her. even though she had her own shit going on, she never failed to be the big sister you wish you had - a loving, protective figure. not jill.
“these are chad and mindy, the twins, wes, and y/n. i used to babysit them all.”
“which is always how i like to be introduced.” wes says, to which you let out a slight laugh.
“and amber.” sam finishes her introductions, locking eyes with the dark haired girl. “hey.”
“hi.” you can feel the tension radiating between them. they do not like each other at all. “nice to see you.”
“hi, um, i’m richie.” richie says, amber looking him up and down. you weren’t too sure if you liked the guy either, seemed a bit fidgety. maybe just nerves, with ghostface going around and all.
“hi.” amber says.
“where’s mom?” sam asks tara, a worried expression crossing her face.
“she’s stuck in a conference in london. she called me earlier.”
“yeah, for all of ten minutes.” amber adds with a judgemental tone to her words.
you look over at tara, who looks tired out of her mind, probably from the painkillers. as someone who had been in a similar position, you knew that it’d be best to make an exit right about now. not only that, the reality of the situation was starting to kick in now. how were you all going to navigate this and stay safe?
“guys, maybe we should give tara a little space. getting a bit crowded in here.” you say, concerned for tara.
your friends respond with a chorus of ‘yeah’s, and you all begin to head for the door.
“not you, sam. i want you to stay.”
“okay.” sam says, sweetly smiling at her sister before sitting herself back down.
“but the rest-“ chad says, looking back to you, mindy, and wes affirming that you guys should go.
you all walk outside of the hospital, and it’s really starting to hit you now. this couldn’t be happening again. you couldn’t lose anyone else to some stupid fucking legacy. to ghostface. you lost your mother, your aunt, and even your sister - all because a pair of stupid, deranged, psychopathic men picked up some halloween mask in 1996. it wasn’t fair.
you start to walk slightly ahead of the group, with none of their conversation registering in your mind. tears start to form in your eyes as you hear them calling out your name. this isn’t fair. you don’t deserve this. tara doesn’t deserve this. nobody deserves this.
you’re brought out of your trance when you feel mindy’s hand touch your shoulder as she walks in front of you.
“hey, you good?” she asks, but sees the tears in your eyes. you shake your head, and she turns to the boys and amber. “we’ll just see you guys at the bar later, okay?”
“you sure? i can stay.” wes says, but you turn around to speak to them.
“no, it’s fine. i’m fine. i’ll see you guys later.” you say, putting on your bravest face and best smile for them. you can tell they’re not quite buying it, but they know mindy’s got you so they keep walking. you see chad turn back multiple times to check on you again, and can tell amber and wes are already bickering again by the time they get in the car.
when they’re gone, it’s just you and mindy sitting against a tree.
“mindy, i don’t think i can do this again.” you say, sighing.
“it’s fine. we’ve got you. me, wes, chad, amber, and i guess liv have got your’s and tara’s backs. we’re here for whatever you need. especially me. you’re my best friend, y/n. nothing is more important to me than your well-being. got it?”
“i love you, minds. you’re the best.”
“i love you too, y/n. and remember, we understand if you need space, support, anything right now. sam’s got tara, and we’ve got you. okay?”
“thanks.” you say, a real smile making its way onto your face.
“anyways, i need to go show chad that i still am the king of eight ball. you coming?” mindy says, getting up and sticking her hand out to you.
“i wouldn’t dare to miss chad getting his ass handed to him.” you laugh, letting mindy pull you up as you head to the car.
maybe it wasn’t so bad. it was cheesy, but maybe with your friends by your side you’d get through this again. maybe.
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a/n: hope you all enjoyed! have a couple parts already in the drafts for this so shouldn’t be too long till the next is posted !! thanks for reading 🫶
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wesleyswrld · 2 years ago
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The Beginning
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Samantha Carpenter sighed in frustration as she wiped off blood off her boyfriend's knuckles for the second time that week.
"Donnie, you have to stop going this. It's scaring me."
The young teens where in the kitchen of a beautiful two story home in Woodsboro. Donnie was seated at the oak table, with Sam standing over him.
"I'm sorry." Donnie apologized, he completely didn't mean it. He'd go to war for Sam, anybody so well as looked at her to long or god for bid said anything about her was in a world of horror.
Sam finished cleaning his wounds and wrapped them up. "Yeah?"
Donnie began to nod, but Sam gave him a "Really" face and he shook his head.
He stood up to his full height of 5'10, and gave her a kiss. "I will protect you at all costs, Sam. I love you."
"Sometimes you can protect me without hurting anyone."
-
Three years later.
"You remember when I told you you can protect me without hurting anyone Donnie? This is one of those times that could have worked!" Sam shouted at Donnie.
Donnie rolled his eyes, as officer Judy Hicks put him in hand cuffs.
He had beat up at guy who thought it was a great, brilliant idea to slap Sam after she stole his wallet.
Donnie didn't even know why he wanted it back there was only 10 bucks in there.
The guy was out cold with a busted lip and an unrecognizable face on the parking lot ground of the local theater.
"He had it coming Sam, I couldn't fix that with fucking words!" Donnie shouted back as officer Judy sat him in the police car.
"This is officer Judy requesting a ambulance to the south side of the parking lot at 100 Meijer drive. We have a unconscious male and a domestic disturbance."
Sam signed rubbing her hands down her face. "Jesus, And. You're so fucking-"
"What, Sam?! I'm so fucking what?" Donnie stood up in anger, getting out of the car.
"Sit down, Clark!" Officer Judy shouted, standing in front of the two.
Donnie groaned but complied, sitting back down in the police car.
Donnie was beyond pissed with Sam he didn't understand why she couldn't realize he had to protect her.
He couldn't save his little sister so he had to save her.
Officer Judy turned to Sam. "Get in the car, Sam, I don't want to see you again."
Sam rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I'm not leaving him with you!"
Officer Judy walked towards Sam with her hands on her hips. "Do you want me to arrest you too?"
"Go Sam, I'm fine." Donnie sighed telling the brunette.
Sam nodded at turned walking towards her car. She got in and looked at Donnie one more time before putting the car in drive and leaving the parking lot.
-
Five Years Later.
"I'm really surprised mom let you watch me." Tara Carpenter told the Clark boy. The two where eating dinner at her house.
Donnie laughed, shrugging. "What can I say Little? I've had a change of heart."
Tara laughed remembering Donnie's teenage behavior turning for the worst.
Tara's mother Christina was at a conference in London and asked Donnie to look out for Tara.
Donnie of course agreed and moved in with Tara till her mother came back, Tara was just as excited to hangout with Donnie and didn't mind a babysitter.
Donnie had made his famous gourmet Mac and cheese which was just Italian seasoning added.
"Amber has a crush on you."
Donnie choked on his drink. "Oh, for real?"
"Yeah, she said she thinks you have a big di-"
Donnie unfortunately choked again in shock of how crazy kids were these days. "Woah, woah, woah, chill."
Tara shrugged. "Her words not mine."
"Do you miss her?" She asked Donnie, her older sister Samantha had left 5 years ago without saying goodbye to anyone.
Donnie sighed, "I miss her everyday. I wish I was better to her."
Tara nodded. "Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole."
"Yeah, I hope she's happier now."
"Me too."
-
After dinner Tara persuaded Donnie into going to the store to get chocolate chip cookie dough.
Donnie grabbed the store bag and closed the door to his Dodge Charger, he walked to the house door and went to unlock it with his key. Only to find it unlocked.
"Huh?" Donnie just assumed he just thought he locked it before he left.
He opened the door to see Tara laying in her own blood.
"Tara!" Donnie immediately went to Tara and dropped to his knees.
"What the f-fuck. Little, hey." Donnie put one of his hand on her wounded side, trying to stop the bleeding.
"D-Don it hurts." Tara cried, trying to push his hand away.
"Tara, you have to let me put pressure on it." Donnie fumbled with his phone dialing 911.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Hi, yeah my friend was attacked, her leg is broken, she has a hole in her hand and multiple puncture wounds."
"Is she conscious?"
"Yes, p-please send a ambulance she's in a lot of pain."
"I will send officers and an ambulance. What's the address?"
"Uhh, 809 Wood Ave. please hurry."
-
"Donnie?" Tara moaned as she came too. She sat up grabbing a glass of water on the tray next to her.
Donnie took his headphones out and put his phone down. "Hey. H-How are you?"
Tara gave him a sad smile. "Still in pain."
Donnie kisses her forehead, and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
He let out a choked sob. "It's all my fault I should have been there."
Tara shook her head. "Donnie, you had no idea that was going to happen. It is not your fault."
"I'm sorry, little." Donnie laid next to Tara in the small hospital bed.
Tara laid her head on his shoulder. "I know, I love you."
-
Wes Hicks
She's awake.
Leaving school now.
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classicsubliminalbo · 3 months ago
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Dirty Work
Originally published Jun 2, 2018
It was half-passed midnight and Andrea was ten minutes into a promising night's sleep when the phone rang. She answered with a curt, "What?"
"We got a job," Tyler said on the other end of the line. "It's a weird one." "Jesus, Tyler, I've got a midterm in nine hours." "We've all got shit on our plate, okay, Andrea? But it's a weird one. And weird ones..." "'Weird ones pay more,'" Andrea repeated. "Fine, whatever, pick me up." "Already outside."
Andrea met Tyler in the small parking lot across from her apartment. He was driving that same old shitty mint green Crown Vic he'd been threatening to trade in for a Tesla since they started the job. At least Tyler had a car, a thought that helped Andrea retain some humility every time she settled in the passenger's seat. The ignition stuttered when Tyler turned the key, and he shot Andrea an optimistic glance before the engine roared to life.
At a stoplight he asked, "What do you think about Vietnam?" "The war?" Andrea replied. "No, for spring break. I know it's a little esoteric but everyone does Orlando or Cancun." "That's because they're on this continent, Tyler." "Right," he said, driving through the light. "I think if you asked daddy he'd buy you a fucking beach." "You don't have to insult me," Tyler frowned. Andrea smirked and added, "What are you even doing still driving a beater?" "Honestly?" he asked. "College girls don't want to date a guy with a nice car. It's intimidating." "I wouldn't fuck a guy in this car. It smells like cheese."
Tyler continued on to Romero's main business strip, finally pulling over to the shoulder in front of Argento's Pizzeria. "Here we are," he said. "Argento's?" Andrea asked skeptically, studying the restaurant through her window. The lights were on but the neon open sign was switched off. Argento's Pizzeria and Italian was a staple of Carpenter State student life. Most students on a budget were regulars at Pizza Joe's, but Argento's was where you took a girl if you wanted a second date. It was never closed before two.
"I told you it's a weird one," Tyler said. "A couple of hours ago this girl goes batshit crazy, starts writhing on top of the table, really making love to this plate of spaghetti." "Gross." "Yeah. Junior can't get her to leave and she's making a scene so he does the logical thing and closes up, feeds her all the pasta she wants till she passes out." "Why doesn't he call the cops?" Tyler shrugged. "Bad for business, I guess. People round here know about us, Andrea. They know our deal with Pierce."
Their deal with Pierce. Most of the time he had them tailing his daughter, Monica, taking her into Dr. Fielding when she got too crazy. But things could get weird around Carpenter State and whenever the dean found himself or a friend in trouble, he called upon his team of fixers to clean it up. It was shit work, but it payed well. Most students wanted internships to build their resumes for life outside of college, but Andrea and Tyler's work with the dean was strictly off the books. That wasn't as big of a deal to Andrea who had the ambition of a hibernating bear. Tyler was the rising star of the pair, a journalism major with lofty goals and the family connections to achieve them. Growing up rich taught Tyler a lot about climbing ladders, and though he couldn't put "fixer" on his resume, Dean Pierce did promise to write any recommendation letter Tyler would ask for and had managed to secure him the position of head editor at The Daily Gremlin, Carpenter State's official student paper. Tyler found that controlling the news media around campus made his secret job a little easier.
"This place always gave me the creeps," Andrea commented as they waited for Junior at the door. "Why?" Tyler asked. "Who opens a pizza joint in a church?"
They heard the lock click, and the wide doors swing open. "Thank Christ you're finally here," Junior Argento breathed. "Where is she, Junior?" Andrea asked.
He nodded toward the back and the pair followed him into the kitchens. There they found the girl, Amy Teller, lying on the floor at the base of an industrial sink. Her boyfriend Jay was sitting next to her distracting himself with his phone. When he saw the two new faces he hopped up and eagerly asked them if they were cops.
Junior slapped Jay and sternly shouted, "No cops!" "We're the next best thing," Tyler winked.
Jay introduced himself and when Andrea asked, he explained what had happened.
"I swear it's those goons from Carmella's again," Junior grumbled. "They're trying to run me out of business!" "Tyler, come look at this," Andrea said as she examined Amy. "What is it?" Jay asked, taking a respite from his cuticle.
Tyler knelt down next to Andrea. She lifted up Amy's eyelid to reveal a solid crimson eye underneath. "You have any idea what that is?" she whispered. "I'll call Dr. Fielding," Tyler whispered back.
Amy jolted to life, startling the pair to their feet. "More!" she cried, grabbing hold of Andrea's arm. "So good...I need more!" "Baby!" Jay cried back. "It's gonna be okay, baby!"
Andrea placed a calming hand on Jay's shoulder. "We're taking her to the Psychology building. You should come with us."
Amy continued writhing in Tyler's backseat as they drove her down the road to meet with Dr. Fielding. Jay held her in his arms, trying to bring her back down, lull her back to sleep. Andrea and Tyler could only share uncomfortable glances at each other as Jay whispered hopefully in his girlfriend's ear. "Why the psychology building?" Jay finally asked.
"Dr. Fielding knows a lot about behavioral science," Andrea replied. "We just want to rule out a psychotic episode." "Jesus Christ," Jay cried.
Dr. Fielding was waiting in her pajamas outside the psychology building. She told them that she'd spoken to Dean Pierce and asked them to wait outside of her office while she worked with Amy and Jay. Andrea felt an eerie feeling of déjà vu sitting there, but she pushed through it while she discussed strategies with Tyler.
"It's not just going to sweep under the rug," she said as she rubbed her eyes. "A lot of witnesses." "It's midterm season, maybe school got the best of her?" Tyler suggested. Andrea shook her head. "Nah, Pierce'll never go for that. Too much heat on the school. Next we'll have parents asking what Pierce's doing for our mental health, he'd have to call a special investigation to save face." "What do you think then?" Tyler asked.
Tyler had the future, but Andrea was the real brains of the operation. This was where she was invaluable.
"What if...a new drug is going around campus, making students loopy." "I could print that," Tyler nodded. "No. We leak it to local news. Start a real hysteria, 'the new designer drug and why you're eleven year old is using it.' That way people aren't talking about Argento's, they're talking about the drug." "That's really smart, Andrea."
"I know," Andrea said. Sometimes it scared her how good she was at this job. "You ever think this is fucked up?" "All the time," Tyler replied.
Before they could continue discussing the ethics of their job, Dr. Fielding's office door opened and a surprisingly content-looking Jay stepped out. Fielding followed behind him and whispered in his ear. "Yes, Dr. Fielding," he said. Andrea and Tyler exchanged nervous glances as Jay shuffled blissfully away.
"I eased Jay's concerns," Dr. Fielding clarified. "But it's going to take a little bit more than hypnotherapy to bring Amy back." Dr. Fielding shook her head then added, "Of course you two don't have to worry about that. It's awfully late now, you'd best get along."
"Thank you," Andrea said, inching toward her seat. "Oh!" Dr. Fielding chirped. "There's just one more thing before you leave." "Yes?" Tyler asked. Dr. Fielding smiled, and somehow Andrea knew she had seen that smile before. 
"No!" Andrea cried, trying to leap out of her chair. But Dr. Fielding said, "Sleep," and Andrea was powerless to disobey the doctor's command. 
Andrea's body plopped lifelessly down in the chair as her chin hit her chest. Her heartbeat slowed, but she was still alive. Conscious even, but unable to think without a command. Andrea heard Dr. Fielding's voice echo clearly in her mind. "You both did a wonderful job tonight," she said.
"Thank you, Dr. Fielding," Andrea and Tyler said in unison.
"Pierce will get you your money but you understand by now that he needs you insurance you won't go telling your friends about the job. It's all very confidential." "Yes, Dr. Fielding, we understand." Dr. Fielding turned to Tyler and said, "Tyler, affirm your loyalty." "I am a loyal student of Carpenter State University. I swear to proudly serve Dean Pierce and protect the legacy of this institution." "Andrea, affirm your loyalty." "I am a loyal student of Carpenter State University. I swear to proudly serve Dean Pierce and protect the legacy of this institution."
"Very good," Dr. Fielding smiled. "Now, I want you two to take all of those doubts you have, all of those nagging ethics and questions that you have and lock them away someplace in your head that you'll never find. When you wake up, you'll understand what you've done tonight, and you'll be proud." "Yes, Dr. Fielding. We are proud to serve."
Andrea didn't remember leaving Dr. Fielding's office. She awoke the next morning in her own bed with a foggy head and an email granting her a makeup on the midterm, another benefit of working for the dean. Andrea smiled, happy that she could play a part in protecting her school.
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eyesteeth · 10 months ago
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what’s the most impactful line from the silt verses to you? long ramble-y context, if there’s any. also need to know if there’s a separate answer for dialogue and narration
ohhhh gods n golly that's a doozy. i'm gonna say "this is how it begins" from s1e6, the silt sibs flashback episode. its use of repetition (and also lack thereof) is really good and it lives in my brain. like, you'd expect that it gets used for all three stories. mason uses it, carpenter uses it, faulkner uses it, done.
except carpenter doesn't start her dialogue with that phrase. she starts out with "i'm eighteen years old" and she leaves beginning out of it. it's almost implied, in a way ("this is how it begins - i'm eighteen years old") but she doesn't say it. this is not some theatrical story to her, it's real lived events.
faulkner, on the other hand, uses the phrase twice. this is a story to him, a story of how the great prophet went off on a pilgrimage and succeeded. he's abstracting himself from it all by doing this - him being so wracked with despair by being abandoned that he literally falls to the floor and stays there until he falls asleep is reconstructed as a drama.
this parallels really well with the maiden story i think. it is portrayed as a good thing (the husband was remade, the bride doesn't have to marry him) but it is not. it's horror reconstructed as love, comparable to how faulkner views the faith in a sense - he's overlooking all the violence because the church loves him until he realizes at the end of s1 that he can't get over the violence, and realizes at the end of s2 that the church doesn't love him. he's kind of like if the bride instantly regretted everything the second her feet hit the water. it's just up in the air whether or not he can get out of the water fast enough to not have his story end in tragedy too.
(jesus fucking christ do i have thoughts about the faulkner/bride parallels.)
so while faulkner's at a sort of risk of a "bad ending" because he's been in storymode from the start by virtue of declaring "this is how it begins" (and therefore requiring a "this is how it ends") carpenter has rejected the story notion and faces these crises with the understanding that this is just how the fucked up world works. she did not put herself in a story, and so any "ending" she has will just be the kind normal people do, unless her begging to die useful has put her in martyrmode in which case, sorry mallory, the life style determines the death style. hope your tree dream shakes out fine.
i hope this makes sense. is this metaphor cogent? i think this might just be soup.
but then again on the other hand like two weeks ago i remembered that carpenter specifically called faulkner "brother" when she realized he was about to pin two murders on her and i literally started crying on the spot so. could also be that one LOL
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theres-a-body-here · 1 year ago
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666 days around the world
Chapter 1: Paradise visited
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Satan didn’t know what to expect when he arrived on Earth. It’s been so long since he last visited. He was almost certain the humans had already wiped each other out.
He was pleasantly surprised when they were alive and…… Well, their being alive was the most important thing Satan was concerned with. He left the major cities and traveled out to a desert. He enjoyed the boiling heat.
Satan perched on a large boulder as he looked onto the horizon as he took in the beautiful sight of the landscape. Earth was pretty quiet compared to Hell, or at least his layer. Satan took in a deep breath, enjoying the warm, dry air.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Suddenly said a soft voice from behind Satan. Satan let out a yelp as he twisted around. Jesus sat on the boulder behind Satan as if he was always there, comfortable and serene.
“Leave me be” Satan demanded, annoyed that he hadn’t noticed the Son of God sneaking up on him. He turned away without waiting for an answer as he continued to stare at the landscape.
“You know the deal, Lucifer,” Jesus said calmly. “You get to visit Earth as long as I keep an eye on you. Father’s orders”
Satan grits his teeth. “I’m not your responsibility, I don’t need a babysitter,” He spat out angrily.
The carpenter simply looked at him with that faint smile he always wears.
Satan hated it. He hated how Jesus was always looking at him with those eyes. So soft, so understanding. He hated it. He wanted to wipe it off his face. He hated how his voice is always so soothing and calm, it made him sick. He hated it. He hated it.
Satan felt himself shrink as he had his internal tantrum. Jesus watched in pity as Satan unconsciously took the form of a young androgynous child.
“Fine, stay. I don’t care,” Huffed Satan in their now higher-pitched tone. Their child arms crossed over their chest.
Jesus watched as Satan brooded. He felt bad for the fallen angel and would’ve liked to leave them alone on their vacation, but God’s orders were absolute.
“How long were you planning to stay this time around?” Asked Jesus Softly, snapping Satan out of their mood.
Satan pondered for a moment
“Maybe a week or so,” They shrugged.
Jesus stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. “Well, let’s get to it then. Where do you want to go first?”
“…”
“…”
“I wish to see a lake”
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giraffeonstrike · 2 years ago
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In gearing up for a career change, I've been considering what my passions are and I've been a little stuck. It's an odd thing to go back and think about at my age...not that we don't change a ton between 20 and 43, we absolutely do and that's a good thing, but to really sit and take a good look at what moves you is typically a thing that younger people do before they start their careers and to a degree their minds and attitudes are better suited for self reflection and exploration.
When I was a teenager ten thousand years ago, my father decided we were going to build houses with Habitat for Humanity. He liked building stuff, I also liked it, people needed houses...simple. It was about a year into that when a guy we worked with asked me if I wanted to come work with him in his shop building cabinets and furniture. People were ordering things for Christmas, it was just him and one other guy, they needed help. So I went and worked with him, he taught me a lot, and it was hard but very fun so I'm 17 and have decided this is what I want to do.
I tell my father and he's confused. A carpenter? Really? No, no...you have to go to college. He didn't come all this way for his son to do manual labor.
I remember asking him "so it's good enough for Jesus but I can't do it?" which he was silent about for a while. No good reason, it's just not what he envisioned for me and eventually I gave up. Went to college, had a variety of jobs that were fine until I ended up here in the job I have now. I've sold cars, I put my own schooling on hold for some years to put my ex wife through school when her parents cut her off, doing the highest paying thing I could do with my skillset (talking) and an unfinished degree...being shipped around the country selling software. I can't even tell you what that was like, it was so mentally taxing and I was just always going.
But I did learn something incredibly valuable, which leads me to my really drawn out point. Frequently there were language and access barriers that prevented me from being able to close deals. You can't sell English language only software (of which there are almost none now but this was long time ago) to schools with strong ESL programs. They need a Spanish option...huge roadblock in southern California, the southwest, and south Texas. We had very little for special needs schools.
There were always handouts but frequently there were no actual people or departments that dealt with the care and management of special needs students. A secretary would hand me something and then disappear. I would never get a feel of what their needs were and if I ever asked they couldn't tell me.
When I came to work at my branch, that still bothered me. What bothered me even more is that I was coming up against the same problem. We had no audiobooks, no books in braille, no bilingual staff, only English language books, no one knew sign language but me. A library should be a place where anyone can go to get the information and enrichment that they need to learn and thrive. It's better now, but lack of funding has always been an issue and we never have been able to get to where I'd like us to be.
I'm 43 years old and realizing that my real passion is accessibility. Ease of use. Making what is difficult less so in whatever way possible. There are so many apps and programs now that hit that mark, but in talking to people who would know I've found out that the human element is lacking. For better or worse we are social creatures and sometimes you just want another person there to guide you.
I will formally resign my position soon, when I can set some things in motion to ensure that my assistant, Angela, will be asked to take over for me. I love my branch, I believe in it, and she's the only one I know who loves it like I do and will make it stronger. We're the only two who know, she's asked me if I'll still do storytime and I'm just delighted that she'd keep me for such an important job.
This is going to be a big year.
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cymorilcinnamonroll · 2 months ago
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Danny and Jules Take on the World (Gen Alpha Skidibi Toilet Emo Nephilim Kid and the Fairy Princess WIP)
NaNoWriMo Day 0: Preptober
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It was a sticky July morning in Centreville, Virginia. Jeihon was sleeping over with me, and I thought to myself: Julie, today’s the day. The day you tell her, your best friend in the whole world: the truth.
Jeihon was smacking on some gum and doing some bubble braids from a YouTube tutorial. “How do you like it, Jules?” she asked me, her sunshine, singsong voice like the birds outside Rocky Run Elementary School.
I looked over at the screen, nerves totally aflame in my stomach. The cute college girl who was doing the bubble braids to match her Taylor Swift tour outfit was tres cool. “I think you should tighten the ends, otherwise, perf.” I helped her, her thick black hair so nice. I had long, curly red hair that nana says was my “Irish pride, kissed by the fairies, you are. My Irish rose.”
But kids at school called me Jules the Jinger, and I thought it was a radical pain.
“Why do you look sick, Jules?” Jeihon asked me, slipping a candy bracelet with ‘CORNELIA STREET’ on it we just made in bubble blue and gum pink onto my wrist.
“I got my period, Jie.”
“NO WAY! Like that panda girl in Turning Red. Oh my god, you must have freaked. You’re like, the first girl in our grade to get it.”
“No way, Jeihon. I’m twelve. Lizzie and Shameka got theirs at like, ten.”
“Yeah, huh. Wow, you’re a woman. There’s probably a Sabrina Carpenter song about this. Maybe Espresso. I think that’s a woman’s song. God, I’m still eleven Jules. Okay, we have to celebrate.”
“How?”
“BOBA!”
In a few minutes, we had walked to the boba shop downtown. There were some college kids with Tamagotchis, some people playing Pokemon Go V3. I was trying to catch a Charmander.
There was this weird kid. He looked like an emo. He bumped into me, his Vans flashing with strung-up red lights on the black-and-white diamonds.
“Hey!” I said.
“Ew, a girl.”
“Shut up!”
“Sorry. I’m Dan. Daniel. What a grandpa name, right. Hey, can I buy you a boba. Dad wants me to buy you one to apologize.”
Jeihon was playing the claw machine in the corner. I eyed Dan – Daniel – and grew suspicious.
A man in a tailored fancy-looking white shirt and blond hair in some really nice haircut was reading something called The New Yorker in the corner, glasses on. He had a really pretty woman next to him who looked Lebanese like my friend Noor, or maybe Syrian. She was curvy like the Beltway, all in the right places. The man was frowning at Dan. She was smiling dotingly.
“Oh… you can read your dad’s mind. Okay, fine, I want taro and nata jelly,” I said.
The handsome old man – well, maybe he was like, thirties, but c’mon, that’s as old as Jesus – nodded in approval to Dan.
“Okay. Dad says I have bad manners. I’m trying to work on it. I’m begging him to take me to see Ronnie Radke tour with Slash and Rob Zombie.”
Daniel – Dan? – bought me the boba. He got himself a tiger sugar. Jeihon saw Lizzie and Shameka and they were playing string games like cat’s cradle and folding some paper cranes from Lizzie’s ever-present art kits.
“Ronnie whosawhat? Slash-uh?”
“Oh god, heck, you don’t know? Do you live under a rock? Only the best rock guitarist with the best metal vocalist and BEST horror film director-slash-singer. They’re playing at Jiffy Lube Live. It’s called the ‘Mother Monster Creeper’ tour.”
“I like fishing songs. Like, um, the Wellermen. I’m Irish. And Chappell Roan, Steeleye Span, the Indigo Girls, and Taylor Swift.”
Daniel scrunched up his nose. “That sounds interesting. My family is from, um, somewhere warm.”
It was then I noticed his bracelet. It had weird squiggly lines, an X and O and S’s, serpent thingies, and swirls. “Oh cool, what is that thing? A band thing? I have this one.” I showed him the ‘CORNELIA STREET’ candy.
Daniel blushed, his black hair like his mom and blue eyes like his dad scrunched in embarrassment. “Mom, um, makes me wear this. It’s a, uhhhh what is it called. Family hair a loom.”
“What’s a hair-a-loom.”
“Uh. Heirloom.”
“Are you an heir like the British royalty kids.”
“Yeah!!! Sort of. I don’t know. I can’t even figure out which boba I like.”
We sat and pulled out our Pokémon Go V3s. They were these new AI handheld immersive Pokémon games. Daniel had a Squirtle with sunglasses and a soda as his main partner, and I had Cosplay Pikachu with her mega-cute heart-shaped tail and dress.
“Nana says I’m the hair of the loom of a fairy lord. Her great-great grandpa.”
“I hate fairies. They make me sneeze.”
It was my turn to scrunch my nose. This guy was weird. “Right, as if fairies are real. That’s like when nana drinks too much Guinness and says I have the Second Sight.”
Daniel looked over at his dad, who was drinking an espresso. They had these bitter coffee drinks for my political aide dad, but mama always got sweet strawberry milk tea. And mugwort pastries – ew.
I only liked red bean…
Suddenly, I felt sick, like I was gonna hurl. Was this a cramp? But no, Daniel’s eyes were glowing RED? I freaked, swallowed hard, then, tried to pinch myself. Was I imagining things of blood loss?
Dad, can mortals with the Second Sight see the Morningstar Insigni-lasagna-thinga?
Danyeel, it’s called an Insignia. Now I want your mother’s lasagna, honey. And of course they can. But mortals with the Second Sight all died out over half a century ago, with the Spanish Influenza.
But my new human friend saw it.
You always had an overactive imagination, Danny Boy. Heh. Go back to enjoying your time making new friends, okay? Remember, we have nothing to fear from mortals. They are beneath us.
“Aren’t you a human?” I blurted.
Daniel shushed me. “Uh, not really. I think dad wants me to keep it a secret, but middle school and moving here all alone is so hard, I need like, one friend Julie Bear. You’re as squishy as a gummy bear. Heh. Just don’t tell dad. I’m shielding psychically. He can’t hear us.”
Nana’s and mama’s old stories of the fey came flooding back to me. Gacanoghs bleeding wee “lassies” dead on a barrow of love. Leanen sidhe sucking sailors dry. The redcaps with blood on their hands.
And. Red eyes.
The Unseelie.
“Are you… a Good Neighbor???” I slurped up the nata jelly and tapioca. “Do you want milk out on the stoop? I guess I do have the Second Sight. And Second Earsight.”
“I’m a bad neighbor. I always play my Gibson real loud. Dad got it to me when we moved to Earth. He’s trying to do this new thing with demon deals and humans. Easier to control and lure souls or whatevs.”
“Sounds like a Republican.”
“He’s a massive strict dictator, but he has a soft side. You know, obsessed with birds like old people. He says he can finally do a birding good year. Big year. Ginormous year. Or something here. We watched this ancient Jack Black movie about it.”
“Peaches.”
“Peaches peaches!” Daniel – Danyeel’s? – snub nose, wide mauvy blue eyes, and tannish gold skin shone. He had really massive braces, and a few pimples, and was way too skinny and tall, like his growth spurt hadn’t filled out.
“Cool, you’re the first nonhuman I met.”
“You’re my first human friend. Can you introduce me to peeps on my first day of school tomorrow?”
“Uh, you promise you’re not a – you know. Kin of the Air. Under the barrow.”
“I hate fairies, dude. Ick. Allergies. I’m a demon. The hair of loom of demons. Danyeel Morningstar.”
“Like Morningstar Farms food stuff. Mama likes that. And Stroopwaffels.”
We were battling our Sunglasses Squirtle and Cosplay Pikachu on Pokemon Go V3.
“No, like, you know…” Daniel – Dan – Danyeel – Dan Dynamite – leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Lucifer and Lilith are my mom.”
“I renounced Catholicism when they said I couldn’t be Pope when I asked in Sunday School in the third grade. I think your dad is the good guy. Women shouldn’t have to labor and be fruitful and multiply. Apples are tasty, and we’d be slaves to God or whatever.”
His Squirtle won. “Yeah! Eh, Michael is my uncle and godfather. I think everyone gets along. It’s all about politics and neutrality and decorationum. Décor-yum?”
“Your dad seems to use a lot of good big words.”
“Mom’s Queen of Hell. Dad kind of just works for her.”
“Like Madame President and the First Husband?”
“Maybe. Want mooncakes? They make them year-round here, the old lady cashier said.”
“Okay.”
Dan came over later that night when I was looking for four leaf clovers in Cub Run Stream Valley. Nana refused to go there on account of a rain owl who had appeared one day apparently being an “accursed changeling, my wee lass.”
I liked the owls, snakes, and ducks.
“I didn’t know you liked the woods.”
“I like trying poisonous mushrooms. Demons can eat rocks, minerals, poison, toxins. Uncle Asmo likes Radithor with candied violets. Mama puts radium in her tea. It helps demon digestion.”
I made him a quick dandelion bracelet. “You know, Dan Dynamite, it’s a lot today. I always knew there were fairies, but demons? Huh. I don’t think I’m scared of demons. Do you cut mince pies from children’s thighs with which to feed the fairies? Like Mad Maudlin and the Boys of Bedlam?”
Dan and I laid down and cloud-gazed. “I like your ideas, Jules Bear, but you’re kind of weird. We don’t touch humans until they’re like, old enough and mature enough to do demon deals. And it’s not souls we take, just ideas – demons are inspired to create things along with humans, like music. How do you think rock was made?”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
Dan blew a dandelion pod. It got on my face.
I sneezed. He laughed. “Sorry. And your hair is really red. Like my real eyes. Everyone hates fairies. They’re evil hicks. Well, some are pretty and nice. But I guess they are not as bad as goblins. Sometimes thirteen-year-olds go on the Geocities Satanist 90s website that are somehow, like, still there or whatever, and summon my dad’s underlings. Then the girls ask for nail polish or Chappell Roan tickets, or sometimes, a twenty-three-year-old lonely girl asks for a friend or boyfriend. Dad tends to send those desperate girls shadow demons in gray sweatpants. It’s like, their uniform. They are incubi.”
“What’s an incubi?”
“Mom is a succubus. Daddy’s a fallen angel. I don’t know. They won’t tell me most grown-up secret things. I don’t even know how I’ll save up enough Hell Dollars to buy Falling in Reverse tickets. Everything in Hell is taxed at 99.9% to encourage black market operations in Asmodeus’ gambling dens and crap with blood at the bar-margarine.”
“Bargain?”
“I don’t know. Dad taxes my allowances. He makes me file things. It’s sorted by decades – he says the Baby Boomers died of over-indulgence. I don’t know what that means. Hell kind of is like, uh, a waiting room for bad souls to learn lessons. Then, they can move on to happier pastures. Well, mom says so.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. Is Hell at least clean?”
“Yeah, dad’s a real hardbutt for that. And mom runs Hell as tight as an ironclad ship. Wants Hell to be as pretty as the Silver City Uncle Michael runs.”
We arm wrestled. Daniel won. I won the second time.
“You’re strong. I want Taylor tickets.”
“Not even Lamia my best friend in hell can get Taylor tix. And her dad is Mammon. He’s like, the richest King in Hell.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll have no luck. Dan, what’s it like being a demon?”
“Uh, wanna see my wings, tail, and horns?”
“Eh, sure.”
“He just looks like a boy made of snips, snails, and puppy dog tails. Like a guy who does pranks on MicTok.”
“Nah, Jie, he’s a demon.”
“Prove it!”
“He eats rocks. And mushrooms.”
“Salt is a rock. I eat salt,” Jeihon countered as we played Go Fish at lunch. “And I eat a lot of chanterelles. Dad is a forager.”
“That sounds fancy.”
“So, am I a demon?”
“Jeihon, god, no!”
“Can I, uh, sit with you?” Dan said, coming over, blushing and nervous. “Um, can we be friends? So far, Jules is my only friend here.”
“That depends. Name Taylor’s best album.” Jeihon scooted over anyway and motioned for Dan to sit. I rolled my eyes.
“Jie, go easy on him. He’s a guy. They’re not really into this stuff besides ‘Evermore’ and ‘Folklore.’”
“I like ‘Red’,” Dan said. “I listened to it. Taylor’s Version. Mom plays it all the time, actually, I realized. I asked her what one song was about, and momma Lil cursed and said that mustard John Mayer.”
“Why would she call Taylor’s toxic abusive ex a mustard?”
“I think that word is supposed to start with a B, Dan Bear,” I said gently.
“Sorry, my ram’s horns make it hard to hear sometimes.”
We pulled out our lunches. Danyeel had shwarama and little German sausages and a pack of red cabbage. I had leftover blood pudding, roast carrots, and a bowl of Irish stew. Mom liked to make lots of stuff with potatoes. Jeihon had some Choong Man Korean fried chicken.
“I BROUGHT ENOUGH TO SHARE!” Jeihon said. “Dad owns one of the franchise restaurants, Dan. And I hate Irish food unless it’s like, a Cornish pasty or haggis. So I can’t steal Jules’ lunch.”
“Hey, Jules the Ginger, Eating Blood for Dinner!” Raul my bully called.
I stuck out my tongue. “You wish your mom packed your lunch.”
Suddenly, a snake appeared on Raul, strangling him. It had rainbow scales.
I freaked. Only I could see it, it seemed. Second Sight. Raul was choking, but didn’t know what was going on!
I looked over at Danyeel. His eyes were burning red, and his tail, wings, and horns poked through, alongside a bloody industrial halo, like something from one of dad’s Rammstein albums.
“Psst, Dan. Stop. You can’t curse people at school. That makes you no better than an Unseelie.”
Dan’s concentration broke, and the snake disappeared, Raul gasping for air. “Hey, I’m not a seal! I’m a hippo! I like hippos! And elephants! I am not wet! I don’t like taking baths, I’d rather be covered in dirt like the crust punks that built the scene!”
“You’re odd, Dan. What scene? What crust, like pizza?” Jeihon asked, scrolling on Sinstagram.
“Unseelie! Not a seal! Yeah, he’s weird, Jie.”
“Well, he did something freaky to Raul. Okay, Dan, you can be a demon if you want. But you need to work on your spelling.”
“I can only really read Enochian.” Danyeel pulled out a yo yo and did tricks.
“Ooo!” Jeihon said.
He balanced the string on his nose and did a yo yo backflip.
“Yeah, you’re right Jules,” Jeihon whispered, her black pearl eyes sparkling prettily. “Only a demon would be cool enough to do yo yo tricks.”
We were in math class, working on equations. Dan was scribbling in strange patterns on his practice sheet.
He showed it to me. It had a bunch of things that looked like Lucky Charms, but more sinister.
“Is this right?” Daniel asked.
I pursed my lips. “Hmm, no. But the circles look like zeroes, sort of. Do you know normal math?”
“Only glossolia from Hildegard Von Bingen. It’s how my Uncle Beelzebub taught me, here,” Dan said, winking and looking sneaky. He folded the paper in half, a portal opened with red flaming stuff, and he reached into the middle of the bent paper to pull out Popeye’s chicken. “Math is reality. Demons and angels are just physics with personality. I’m the demon of dark matter. I store a lot of snacks in dark matter. Mom took me to this realllllly good restaurant, Popeye’s, by the Korean coffeeshop and her nail salon in Centreville, and oh man, fried chicken. Oh man oh man.”
The teacher was snoozing. Mr. Laneyson always fell asleep. He was like, 85, and had an old man’s alertness. He always just gave us our homework early halfway through, then dozed. Most of our schoolwork was digital, on the Smartboard, but he did everything paper. It was catching on. Loose schooling – unattaching Gen Alpha kids from being too digital. We were in Gifted and Talented, so things were a bit different, if you catch my drift.
But not as different as summoning Popeyes from your math homework.
“Dark matter sounds useful. Teach me. And give me chicken, please, Dan Dynamite.”
“It’s really spicy, Jules Bear. Can you teach me math, then I’ll always feed you Popeyes? Uncle Ahriman taught me noetic shielding and summoning, so I can block anyone’s perception, even my massive narc dad.”
I munched on the chicken. Mmmmmm! “So we can sneak snacks, and no one notices? I don’t want Jeihon to be in on this, dude. I want you to be my best guy friend. Jeihon is my best girl friend. Emos are okay. I like coquette and cottagecore. Jeihon is like, kinda artsy, I’m kind of cutesy, and you can be the edge of the group. We can make a Pinterest board and Pokemon Go V3 team to match the aesthetic. Girls on MicTok talk about “aesthetic” a lot. And BookTok. Hmmmm.”
“Okay, I’ll use dark matter only for you, and try to teach you – but your fairy blood is pretty faint. It will take a stroke of luck, for you to use noetics, I mean, it’s pretty basic, but I’m not thattttt talented, and I’m only like, twelve.”
“I’m twelve too.”
“Yeah, and fairy magick is elemental and magick. Mine is blood, math, quantum mechanics, and prototime. Well, dad likes crystals, and mom is a kitchen witch.”
“My mom gets grumpy in the kitchen too.”
Recess came. Jeihon had ditched us to hang with Shameka and Jessie. They were playing with some battle tops called Girlslash. They were supposed to be this girl-centered revamp on dad’s collection of Beyblades. Sometimes, dad got really stressed at work on Capitol Hill – he called it Capitol Hell – so he’d come home, set up his Beyblades and this tabletop nerd thingy called Warhammer 40k where he painted dorky space soldiers, blasted Disturbed (an old dad band, ick), and made the Beyblades take down the space soldiers.
Mom hated it.
“Hey, Dan, wanna see my Girlslashes? I have a She-Ra, Catra, and Glimmer one.”
“He-Man and Teela and Skeletor are my faves, do you have those?”
“Sure. BY THE POWER OF ETERNIA.”
“I HAVE THE POWER.”
I had pulled them out of my backpack right away, and we were battling the tops with their magnetic points on the blacktop of the basketball court – Girlslashes were meant to be used on sidewalks and stuff – and letting the ripcords go.
“Check your phone, the GirlHash app. It tells you your battle stats. They have little chips in them, and the heroes move and do tricks and stuff.”
We loaded them on their phones.
“Sick, I unlocked Skeletor XP 1,000 and the Castle of Grayskull Diamond Candies!!!” Dan said.
I felt blue, like Taylor driving away from Taylor Lautner in December. “Umm… I lost.”
Tears dotted my eyes. I hated losing.
Danyeel patted my shoulder. “It’s okay, Julie. You won at Toy Story Uno.”
I warmed. “Heh, yeah. Hey, can we see if I’m magick? Like the Popeyes thing you did last period.”
Danyeel brightened, we put my Girlslashes in my backpack, then we went inside for Language Arts. “No time left, time for school! I’ll show you at the park tonight, okay? Then mom and dad want you over for dinner.”
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racingtoaredlight · 3 months ago
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Outclassed
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This made the rounds yesterday...if it doesn't queue, go to around 2:20.
Sabrina Carpenter is one of the most recent pop divas to arise, seemingly formulated in a boardroom to attract dumb fans away from Taylor Swift. The other is Chappell Roan.
You guys know my opinion on Taylor Swift...but compared to Carpenter and Roan? My god, compared to those two Taylor Swift comes off like fucking Beethoven. Chappell Roan's issue is that she's making a dumber version of Cyndi Lauper's music...it's neither original nor well executed.
Carpenter, however, is nothing more than a benign cookie cutter pop star, built off of a conveyor belt not to offend. We're not looking for virtuosity here, but there is a history of divas being able to bring vocal fireworks that should be lived up to.
And it's not. Not even close. Christina Aguilera, knowingly and deliberately, wipes the fucking floor with Sabrina Carpenter. It doesn't matter that Carpenter was doing this as an homage...because it turned into an ass whooping.
Later that evening, this popped into my Twitter feed...
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I'm not going to shit on Flea as a bass player. He's iconic. He's MASSIVELY influential, and had more than enough chops and balls to back it up. Clearly he's working here, it's not a finished product. And "working" is a good word to use, because he's really putting in a ton of effort trying to get around this thing.
And let me tell you something..."Teen Town" is not easy. It's fucking REALLY difficult.
So seeing even a really good bassist like Flea struggle to get around it is not unusual, nor is it a foundation for me arguing that he's a shitty bass player. Flea is awesome, and his status as one of the great bassists is completely secure as far as I'm concerned.
But it is a great illustration in the difference in ability between high profile professional musicians like Flea (and Sabrina Carpenter) and the highest caliber musicians around.
Here's two examples...first is Marcus Miller playing "Teen Town" in slap.
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Everything I said about Flea as a bassist, Marcus Miller is beyond...outside of fame, that is. Flea can slap like a motherfucker...but not as good as Marcus Miller, because there are like five guys in history could.
But watch Miller and pay attention to how relaxed he is, just walking around, looking at his bandmates, rolling his eyes...this is nothing for him. All that effort Flea was putting in simply wasn't there with Marcus.
Now for the mack daddy himself...
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This is literally a walk in the park. Yea, it's his piece, but that doesn't change the fact that this is an absolute bear for anyone walking. Despite the challege he made for himself, he's having a grand old time up there. Seriously, does this look like a man bothered in any way by an insanely difficult piece?
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Here's the point...
Much like with Christina and Sabrina Carpenter, there's a talent void. When you watch Flea try and play "Teen Town," you get the impression that he's giving it his all. Putting everything he's got into nailing it...and he'd probably get a C- for the effort. You watch Carpenter try to hit the high notes, and it's...fine.
But then you watch Christina Aguilera or Jaco or Marcus Miller...and it's a completely different ballgame. They're playing by different rules. You watch Flea, and you're not really sure he can give you more than that...
You watch Marcus Miller or Jaco? Jesus Christ, they're just coasting along, completely unbothered. You wonder what they could do if they really pushed themselves, because here? They certainly aren't pushing anything.
When you see high profile musicians, athletes, whatever...doing their thing next to all-time greats with truly elite talent, and falling so, so short...it's pretty shocking. The differences in talent becomes that much more stark.
***
Now for an example of not being outclassed.
I know you guys give Kazzy a whole bunch of shit for being obsessed with Goose, but it's never bothered me for a second because...while I'm not into jam bands...Goose is stacked top to bottom with really, really good musicians. Hate on jam bands all you want, these motherfuckers are no joke when it comes to laying shit down.
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Julian Lage, the guy in the V-neck sweater/jacket thing is probably the best guitar player on the planet right now. Not my favorite, but he's the best. I'm four years older than he is, and when I was in college, he was already a seasoned NY pro when he was 17.
This is what we're working with here with Lage...
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Goose guitarist Rick Mitar...Mitor...Goose guitarist Rick is no slouch. Before this, I was already impressed enough with him as both a guitarist and bandleader, I didn't need more evidence.
If you listen to the clip above, they're stride for stride. Rick Goose is going stride for stride with the best guitarist on the planet, fuck me that's goddamned awesome. I haven't heard enough of Rick Goose to know if he can handle the chord changes Lage makes mincemeat out of on the regular, but in this setting? There's no quarter given because there doesn't need to.
*There's a lick by Lage at 16:45 that is just absolutely preposterous. **I also think it's funny when the camera pans back, and you can see Rick Goose with a battleship bridge looking pedalboard, while I think Lage is just going straight into a Fender Deluxe Reverb. ***seriously, look how huge this pedal board is...and yea, no pedals for Lage.
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Anyways Rick Goose? Not outclassed by the best guitarist on the planet. Sabrina Carpenter and Flea? Outclassed.
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lumierecharity · 5 months ago
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GOOD SHEPHERD CHURCH - MODULE 77: GLORY OF THE WORD OF GOD
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GOOD SHEPHERD CHURCH SEMINARY
MODULE 77
SERMON ON THE MOUNT: 
GLORY OF THE WORD OF GOD
Jesus was born into humble circumstances
Jesus was born in a stable. The Son of God experienced life as a refugee child in Egypt. As trade, Jesus learned carpentry from His foster-father Joseph. The life of Jesus unfolded as He faithfully performed the duties of youth at home. The Plan of God offered Jesus opportunity to carry out human tasks, as He engaged the greatest task in all the world - that of Messiah, our Redeemer. 
The Plan of God 
The Plan of God makes provision for us all to perform manifold small tasks of learning, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, humbling of personal pride and development of individual personality within society.  We are blessed with a patient God Who delights in our daily achievements and growth within our individual abilities and according to our personal talents with which the Almighty has gifted us.
When Jesus went to the desert for forty days and forty nights, He spent much time in prayer alone with the Father. Jesus was given the perfection of the fulness of the Law of the Kingdom to teach us. These words of Divine Law and wisdom are laid out in the Sermon on the Munt, and are there to set us spiritually free.
Do not judge, lest you yourself be judged
Jesus explained during the great Sermon that we are not to judge others. The Son of God teaches that we are not to notice a speck of sawdust in another's eye, when we have a full plank in our own. This carpenter's symbol illustrates how we may be alive to the faults of others, and oblivious of our own.
Jesus makes it quite clear that no-one is able to judge another. Only God knows the full facts about the other person, the painful history, the personal difficulties, the joys and tragedies and the mental and physical health problems which affect that individual. 
The person blessed with fine parents does not know the painful burden another with difficulties in heredity carries. The one brought up in a comfortable house, trained in the commandments of God from early youth, knows nothing about the temptations of another brought up parentless in a violent environment.
As we do not know the whole person, so, too, we are never wholly impartial. Only the perfectly faultless has the right to look for faults in others. As Jesus pointed out, none of us is without sin. We have enough to do to rectify our own lives without seeking censoriously to rectify the lives of other people.
The message of Jesus is clear; we must concentrate on remedying our own faults - a full-time job - and leave the faults of others to God. 
We are not the final court
This teaching is dependent upon common sense. Jesus is teaching us not to spend our lives searching out the faults of others, often in a spirit of schadenfreude. If we exercise uncompassionate judgement, we may cause harm to others. We are not the final court - the final court is in Heaven at God's Throne. 
A judge maintains law and order
This does not include the situation where an individual wreaks havoc upon another through crime or assault. From ancient times, a judge appointed to weigh the situation weighs evidence and brings about justice.  Measure of surcease may be taken in order to prevent the possibility of further instances of injustice. The dignity of the ministry of judge is to maintain law and order, as well as to prevent anarchy.
The role of priests
As priests, let us remember that we are others' support towards God; not their judge. The sacrament of confession is meant to bring healing and forgiveness, not further condemnation through insensitive handling of the souls of our brothers and sisters who grapple with the intricacies and suffering of daily life.
The penitent should see the compassion of God the Father within the priest, not condemnation of the individual undertaking the sacred clerical ministry.
The priest helps the person who has transgressed to peace of soul from guilt and inner torment, if such there is. The priest further assists the penitent to make reparation insofar as possible. This is a delicate and godly task, not to be undertaken lightly, and not to be carried out without due training and proven ability to deal with the fabric of the lives of others.
Sift the actions of others through fingers of kindness
Thus the rule of thumb in daily interaction is to sift the actions of others through fingers of kindness. Let the sand of actions or attributes which annoy or dismay us flow through our fingers back to the seashore where God will deal with them, if needed. Retain within our fingers the gold nuggets of the inner beauty which resides within another.
An unknown poet put it well,
"Judge not the workings of his brain,
     And of his heart thou cannot see.
     What looks to thy dim eyes a stain,
     In God's pure light may only be,
     A scar brought from some well-won field
     Where thou wouldst only hint and yield." [1]
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[1] Bible Portal. Judge not, that you be not judged. Sept 30, 2022. 
Accessed 5/7/2024. 
With thanks to Youtube
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