#unedited but i'm invested now

[waterbottlegrey-blog]

The stories bout the cleverness of ravens are true. You can see Brent's car as you walk out of the house for the last time, with everything that could be detached with clever raven claws and beaks detached. it's quite impressive. They'd somehow managed to pull apart the lights without breaking the light-bulbs. They'd lined a circle around the hummer with them.

"Okay, so we're going to the glen," you say. "And we're finding my parents."

The young raven, who'd introduced himself as Cup-Noodle-Thief, CNT for short, has been waiting for you patiently. He croaks excitedly, flies around and does a barrel roll. Atomic-Crisco, the elderly one, is on your bike's handlebar already.

"We should hurry then. It's a day's flight, and you need to make it before the rising of the moon," he says.

"And we really should know your heraldry before that. I've heard some of them can be really harsh about protocol," adds CNT.

You shrug, and load your tent into the saddle bags.

You really don't care about stuff like that right now. You want some answers. You want to know why they'd never came to look for you. The changeling is suppressed to return, that's the story. They're supposed to come back for it. There's at least one story that goes like that. And they'd left you here.

CNT croaks at Crisco. Crisco jumps on the seat.

"Fine, what about it? I thought you said you don't know what house I'm from." You say.

You've been talking and observing them logn enough to know that Crisco is a stubborn old bastard. He won't move until he gets his way.

"I can make an educated guess," he says, wryly. "You'll need to buy some mirrors. And fresh bread. Pricey liqueur wouldn't hurt." And he says nothing more.

You sigh. It's a bit alarming that they won't tell you what they know before getting you to the glen. But fuck it.

It does take an entire day to get there. In the end, its just an abandoned strip of land beside a highway. You got the bag of bagels, and merlot, and 60 hand-held mirrors.

The rest of the flock caught up with you when you were in the traffic jam, getting out of the city. You just know CNT led you to take that route on purpose, somehow. YOu just hope they didn't cause the car accident. As it was, you missed the moon-rise, and used up both of your first-aid kits.

"Alright, so can you tell me now?" You demand once you've set up the tent.

"Of course, my Lord," says CNT. The rest of the ravens are perched in the shrubbery and the lone tree around your little camp. The gas stove is bubbling away, Crisco nudging the lid every once in a while so it won't overflow.

"So, I'm pretty sure you're Dark-Fae, because of the whole, you know, reality warping, but the specific house is trickier. They'd keep the details of the descen-"

"Hold on," you interrupt. "Firstly, how do you know 'reality warping' but not HOA, and also, I've been warping reality?"

There's a chorus of croaking and laughter from around you.

"Aye," sounds a voice from behind the tent.

You jump to your feet. There's a fuck-off huge man, with a homely face, dressed in what would be best called bondage-lumberjack outfit, coming around to sit at your fire. He's smiling, but it's a smirking smile.

You eye him carefully. You've been in a hundred biker bars, and you know that swagger.

"Proper greeting is 'hello, how are you', so let's start there," you snap.

Crisco chuckles at the pot.

"Your first retainer, it seems. You could do worse. What ho, dryad. How fares thy clan?"

You keep you face blank, your heart hammering in your chest. This is what comes from now hawing the heart to grab the old feather-duster and shaking him until explanations fall out. The large man stops smirking, at least.

He grins, trying for charming. He'd probably pull it off to anyone else, but you're used to navigating Father and his flock of fawning bitches in the congregation for minimum bodily harm. You can just about smell the apprehension of someone that's trying to buff his way higher in the pecking order. "I'm tough, tougher than you, really, no, really, just please don't check-"

"Lawrence, at your service, My Lord," he says. "How do you fare?"

You don't point out that you're more of a Lordship. Gentleperson? Bah. The particulars of your gender are irrelevent right now, and the ravens have been using it more as a title than anything else, anyways.

"I fare impatient. What reality warping?"

Lawrence smirks again. You feel a stab of pity. He's trying so hard, bless him, he wouldn't last one day in the Inner Divinity Circle.

"You're a Fae Lord of the Shaded Shack, Lord. Reality warping is your purview. You can impose your will on the world, the way you think things should be." He sits on his knees like in a Japanese movie, the leather rig creaking as he rolls his shoulders. The light from the lantern shines of the straining buttons on the plaid shirt. Is he...?

Nevermind.

"Be nice to know what that is," you say pointedly to Crisco. He manages to conwey a shrug.

"Young Cup-Noodle-Thief was enjoying his first attempts at fool-dom, Lord. I felt he should try, as he will replace me. I am...old."

He tries to twist off the gas stove. Lawrence reaches over and twists it for him. His demeanor is entirely changed. He's now blank-faced and subdued. His eyes are lowered.

Your mind races. There's a hierarchy here. You can see the outlines. Atomic Crisco just implied something important. Fool is taken, and above Retainer.

"I got ways to go," mutters CNT. "But yeah. It's like, an area of effect. And I know an HOA is a thing fancy neighbourhoods have, it's like, an important flock within the flock that no-one likes. And I was trying to sound fancy, cause we though you were a fancy Fae Lord that was taking a holiday. Sorry," he adds.

You forgive him immediately. CNT was the goofball of the flock, and before... today, you always loved to whatch what stupid escapade he'd get himself into.

"You're still not explaining yourself," you say softly.

CNT looks at Lawrence, then pointedly at you. Lawrence, for his part, is still lowering his eyes.

"This world is... soft, to a being of your power, my Lord. We didn't know you were a High House until you made the rest of the flock like us."

He nods towards Crisco. He croaks, then says in a jovial tone:

"It was a lark to see the lowbeast flockmates suddenly awaken one day with cognition. One day your biggest puzzle is the shine of a trashcan and why you can't eat it, and the next you're Wise and re-inventing the descartian reasoning of existence in a panic."

"Hey, man, fuck you," sounds from one of the bushes. A chorus of laughter sounds. You chuckle. CNT preens, and Crisco nods approvingly.

"So because I spoke to you since I was little-"

"We spoke back. I already was Wise, courtesy of Lord Star, but of the rest, Cup-Noodle-Thief was the first. Do you remember giving him his name?"

You stare at CNT. You called him that, you remember, when you were watching him in the park.

"Yeah, I was eating those noodles, and then suddenly thought Hey, these aren't meat, they just smell like meat, what the fuck? An then panicked because I thought my thoughts were someone talking," says CNT.

"So this Lord Star is my father?" you ask.

"I have no idea, I'm sorry, my Lord." Crisco looks ashamed.

"Yeah, they keep kids under wraps until they come into their power. You could be, or you could be one of the hundreds of others. Powers are random, people just join the High Houses later once they manifest based on them. I'm not even fully up on those, I found maybe a dozen Houses to figure out your heraldy, and I was focusing on weasels, cause you had so much plushies of them, and green and black colours and do you know how many houses-" Okay, so he tried to guess your house based on what you wore? Poor guy. You wore exactly three shades on green and black, and- Lawence shifted.

"You know more about Houses and things, right, Lawrence?"

Lawrence takes a deep breath. You narrow your eyes. He looks... stubborn.

"It's not the privilege of a retainer, to advise, my Lord."

"Not a privilege of a dryad to try and usurp a Wise Awakened, either." snarks CNT, "But it looks like your woody self grew a pair of more than just fruit, eh?" He looks hopefully towards you. Crisco groans.

You groan.

You can apparetly warp reality to the point of granting cognition, your one retainer is a extorting dryad, and your Fool makes dirty puns.

"You can kneel there until you feel otherwise," you tell Lawrence. You give it 10 hours, because he's a stubborn one, he's kneeling on rocks, and he's feeling it already. You hate thet you can predict that so accurately.

He looks startled. Yeah buddy, and I won't cave even if you hold your breath, either, you think. There's laughter from the flock around you.

Still, your stew is done, and you have some answers. You'll eat, sleep, and get more answers.

You always got strange looks whenever you fed the neighborhood ravens. “I give them food, they give me company,” you’d say. One day, a raven excitedly comes up to you and whispers, “A neighbor plots against you, my lord.”

[episims]

Turn On/Off Replacements: No Zombies Edition + 3t2 Trait Support

This is basically an update of my TO replacements, but I want to keep the post clear, so I'm sharing it as a new version.

Here's what got changed:

⭐ No More Glasses Zombie TO Instead of zombies, you'll get a brand new TO: Enthusiast. It's triggered by sims who are invested in their hobbies.

⭐ 3t2 Trait Support If you use 3t2 traits, sims with fitting traits will trigger directly related turn on/offs. This is only a subtle flavor; if you want the whole chemistry system to be trait-based, this mod isn't for you. These replacements still work just as well even if you don't have 3t2 traits in your game.

⭐ Polished Icons All the TS4 icons are now slightly smaller and hopefully work better with UI replacements. I also changed or edited some that I felt needed improving.

There are still two versions of the mod: the other replaces the Grey Hair TO with the Mersim one, the other leaves it untouched. Both versions are included with the download.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Files are compressed. Probably requires all EPs. Conflicts with other turn on/off replacements (including my old versions), tunaisafish’s Attraction Traits Fix, and might conflict with cologne-related mods.

Compatible with UI replacements as long as this mod loads after.

🚨🚨 The Mersim version requires Midge’s Mermaid Mod.

Translations included: Spanish, Italian, Swedish, Finnish.

Update (29.8.2024): Fixed the life skills TO sometimes not updating properly upon changing TO replacements.

Update (31.3.2024): The alien trait by @tammyhybrid21 now triggers the Alien TO too.

Update (11.1.2024): Enthusiast TO now replaces zombies instead of glasses.

Update (11.1.2024): Changed it so that business owners with level 6 or higher business and young adults with a GPA 3.7 or higher also count as hard workers.

Credits to @lazyduchess, @midgethetree, and simler90 for the groundwork and bits and pieces used in the mod. Translations by @bothersomecryptid, @themeasureofasim, @dystopianam, and @vegan-kaktus.

Full list of the TOs under the cut.

Replaced TOs:

Cologne -> Life Skills (has learned at least two of the life skills)

Stink -> Poor (household fortune* ~§20 000 or lower)

Underwear -> Rich (household fortune* ~§100 000 or higher)

Swimwear -> Great Dancer (dance skill 6 or higher)

Formalwear -> Pet Lover (has at least two pet friends or the Animal Lover trait)

Full Face Makeup -> Talented (has at least one silver or gold talent badge)

Hats -> Good Reputation (reputation level Reputable Resident or better)

Jewelry -> Bad Reputation (reputation level Lousy Loser or worse)

Custom Hair -> Alien (either skintone, eyes, or both, or the alien trait)

Zombie -> Enthusiast (level 5 or higher on at least one hobby)

Grey Hair -> Mersim (with Mersim version)

TOs with additional new trait support:

Hard Worker (career level 6 or higher, teen career level 3, owned business level 6 or higher, young adult with a GPA 3.7 or higher, or the Workaholic trait)

Logical (logic skill 5 or higher or the Genius trait)

Charismatic (charisma skill 5 or higher or the Charismatic trait)

Great Cook (cooking skill 5 or higher or the Natural cook trait)

Mechanical (mechanic skill 5 or higher or the Handy trait)

Creative (creativity skill 5 or higher or the Artistic trait)

Athletic (body skill 5 or higher or the Athletic trait)

Good at Cleaning (cleaning skill 5 or higher or the Neat trait)

TOs with minor fixes:

Unemployed (young adults and business owners aren't counted as unemployed)

Robot (servos don't trigger hair color TOs)

Unedited TOs:

Fatness (TS4 icon)

Fitness (TS4 icon)

Facial Hair

Glasses (TS4 icon)

Makeup (TS4 icon)

Blonde Hair

Red Hair

Brown Hair

Black Hair

Grey Hair (without Mersim version)

Vampire (TS4 icon)

Plantsim (TS4 icon)

Lycanthropy (TS4 icon)

Witch (TS4 icon)

For the sake of cohesion, all the supernatural TOs now have simpler, singular names (instead of vampirism, plantsimism, and witchiness).

*The household fortune is counted by its funds, the lot value (if the home lot is residential), and other owned lots. The precise value that triggers the TO might slightly vary.

[fandom-junkie2020]

Stop Fussing

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After a long day, Aemond needs to relax. Y/N finds something entertaining to do.

20. "Stop fussing, I'm just braiding your hair"

Warnings: N/A

Date Uploaded: 7.24.24

Word count: 793

Unedited

Masterlist

Requests are open!

Here are some prompt ideas and a character list!

Aemond Targaryen never received a lot of attention as a child. With his father running the realm and his mother running after Aegon, no one ever had the time to invest in Aemond. A sad reality faced far too often by the noble children in King’s Landing. Because of the unfortunate family dynamics of the Targaryens, Aemond was, in some form, neglected. Of course, unlike many children across the realm, Aemond had privileges: food, clothes, hobbies. The one thing he lacked was motherly and fatherly affection, resulting in him being neglected emotionally. It’s interesting how someone could have everything, yet feel like they have nothing–perhaps it’s a lack of perspective paired with the longing for affection. 

Regardless, Aemond had trouble with affection in his adulthood due to his lack of such as a child. Sure, now Alicent wished to give her children the world, but she could never quite make up for the years she’d spent wandering court, continuing to be a pawn in her fathers games. One person, however, that was able to fulfill Aemond’s overall need for attention was his wife. Although an arranged engagement, the two clicked, making them an amazing couple. Perhaps at times their relationship was unhealthy–this is Aemond Targaryen to which we are referring to. But, in comparison to his other relationships, that of him and his wife was far healthier than any relationship Aemond had seen throughout his life. Y/N was one of the kinder souls that he’d met during his time at the Red Keep. 

Ever since the beginning of the war, however, they didn’t often get the time to spend together. With Aemond’s recent increase in responsibility, it had been very difficult for the two of them to spend time together. Unlike many couples in the Red Keep, the two of them shared a bed, meaning they got to see each other at the beginning and end of the day. Personally, nights were always Y/N’s favorite while the mornings were Aemonds. Y/N enjoyed the nights because of how, despite a hard day, Aemond was relaxed. After his day, even though a bit tense, he was ready to lay in his bed with his wife. Y/N loved this because of the stark contrast between the stiff shield he put up in public versus the tired mumbling and hugs. 

One night in particular, Aemond arrived in their room more tired than usual. He walked through their door, took off the many layers of leather, then walked towards his bed where his wife lay sitting upright against the headboard, book in hand. 

“Hello, love,” she says looking up slightly. 

Instead of replying, Aemond lets out a heavy sigh and lays across the bed, allowing his head to fall into his wife’s lap. 

“Excuse me, hey! I’m reading,” she laughs. 

Aemond looks up at her, removes the book from her hand, as well as takes the bookmark from beside her, and throws the book on the ground next to the bed. 

“Hey!”

He continues on, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s torso and pushing his head as far into her stomach as he could without hurting her. 

Y/N smiles and relaxes, accepting the fate of her book and her schedule for the rest of the evening. “Long day?” she asks. 

He hums in response and lets out a deep breath. 

Y/N runs her hand through his hair. Typically, half of it is tied back and also confined by his eye patch, but now, as they get ready for sleep, his hair is loose, crazily lying about his head. Arguably, this is the main reason she loved nights, having access to his hair with his arms wrapped around her is a blessing. 

As they are wrapped around each other, she begins to twist the pieces of his hair together, imitating many a hairstyle that her handmaidens helped her create on her own head. While the minutes passed on Aemond went into a kind of slumber, the kind where you can talk to someone and they will wake up not remembering a thing. 

Y/N continues until there are multiple braids throughout Aemond’s hair. Eventually, because of all the tugging, he awakens slightly and looks up at her. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Relaxing,” she replies. 

He then realizes that she seems to be playing with his hair. He starts to sit up a bit, making her lose her grip on some of the braids. “Stop fussing,” she replies, her voice soft yet strong, “I’m just braiding your hair.”

Aemond only grumbled before returning to his relaxing position. 

The two would then remain in their positions until eventually, Y/N would grow tired, shimmy down so that she too could go to bed. 

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

merry christmas to all who celebrate, my gift to you 🎄

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5k words

warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT MDNI (y'all better eat it up while it's here bc this might be one of like twice or three times so merry christmas lmao), orgasm denial, teasing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slightly mean finnick but also softdom, mentions and allusions to trafficking and sexual trauma, self-hate, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions to death/violence, pnv, usage of weapons, terms of endearment, no use of y/n, unedited, cumming inside, mental health issues, self doubt, hypocritical reader, savior complex finnick

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Cold air hit your skin as the doors to the training center opened, instantly you could feel the onslaught of goosebumps on your arms. “Remember brush up on skills, knives, spears and number one objective-”

"Katniss.” You finished for him. "You go get your hands back on that trident, and hopefully my instincts will remember what it takes to throw a knife or a spear.”

"If not, work on some survival skills, but I think the instincts will kick in.” You tilted your head to the side, uncertain but humoring the idea. He kissed you softly, “See you soon."

"I'm only going to be a few hundred feet away, Finnick.” You smiled and he did too.

“Well that's a few hundred feet too far.”

"Good thing you can come find me anytime you want.” Squeezing his hand as you reluctantly took a few steps back.

“You don't want to come and admire me back in my element?" He joked, his grin bearing his shining teeth.

“In your dreams, Odair."

“Absolutely!" Finnick's eyebrows quirked up before you finally pulled yourself out of his magnetic field to focus on the more viral thing, survival.

It had been so long since you'd thrown a knife with purpose, over half a decade which had been what you felt most confident in. Of course there had been a couple times, admittedly more than a couple, when your nerves spiked up and a moment where you were simply making dinner, chopping something up, to being spooked by a noise that led to a knife wedged in a wall or cupboard. So Finnick cooked and cut, he wasn't as easily startled or on edge.

This year they had clearly made more of an investment into the training, a little pad verifying it was you when you stood on the elevated block. You took a second before lifting the tiny weapons from where they lay, the weight was instantly familiar in a way that made your chest heave. It felt like you were that same young girl again, trying to see what could help her survive, help her overcome others. Finnick has been right, how to throw a knife, how to throw it to kill, all came back like child's play.

The instant the first hologram appeared it was like your brain went on autopilot, they weren't real but your brain was screaming, survive, survive, survive. Each knife flew from your hand with lethal aim, your arms instinctively knew what to do, how to throw precisely as fast as possible. So you trusted your body when suddenly the simulation was over, you felt your head coming back to reality. It was terrifying, you'd felt like you were in a dizzy high and suddenly you were that same young girl terrified in the arena. Full of guilt and regret for the lives you'd taken.

“I thought your weapon of choice was a spear." A voice cut through your thoughts, bringing your thoughts back to the person you were now. Peeta, ever outgoing and charismatic just as he'd been depicted, with an untrusting looking Katniss not far behind.

“No, that's what was convenient at the end, but the spear was never mine, it was-"

“Conway’s." Katniss finished the name you hated saying, hated remembering for you. “You killed in the Bloodbath with knives and then the girl from District 2." She must have been rewatching everyone's games, learning their tactics.

“Ironic, weren't they the District 2 girl from last year's weapon of choice as well?" You asked, stepping off the platform.

“Yes." She was tense, stiff it radiated off of her, stagnating the air.

“When there's such limited options, it's hard to get much differentiation. You certainly helped mix the bag last year.” Not just with her little bow and arrow, you hoped she knew what you were really saying, but couldn't with the people watching from above. She probably didn't, she was like a guard dog who didn't know whether or not one could be warmed up too, but would always assume the worst.

“I'm glad that was entertaining." Her voice was bitter as if she had no idea that everyone here has gone through the exact same trauma and felt the same way.

“It certainly was for them." You glanced upwards, towards the head game maker and his cronies observing you all like lab rats. “Most of us were." The Morphlings certainly had to be the most boring show of all, to those who couldn't realize it was such a smart tactic to stay alive, even if it didn't make great daytime television.

“You should teach us how to throw sometime." Peeta inserted himself back into the conversation. "If you want, we could teach each other things. I could go over camouflage.” He offered with a smile.

“Yeah of course!" You smiled back. “When you blended into the rocks by that stream, it was truthfully unfathomable in talent to be able to do that."

“And Katniss can shoot, I'm sure you've seen, but she never misses." Katniss shot him a glare, "Just following Haymitch's orders.” Peeta shrugged before his eye was caught by Johanna finishing up with her ax training. “I should get a formal introduction." He was walking away when Katniss spoke again.

“Why'd you volunteer for that girl?" She asked, and you turned your head towards her.

“For Annie?" You felt like it was obvious, but Katniss just nodded. “I wasn't going to put her through this again, that wouldn't have been fair of me. I couldn't let any of them, I couldn't have lived with myself if I had, so I might as well die on that hill now." Your candor seemed to make her less stiff. “You know, she was the first tribute I mentored. Years after my games, I did everything I could to help her win, to prepare her, but I couldn't prepare her for what happened after. Seeing her after that it was like I failed." Annie would forever be known as the one who went "a little crazy.” Maybe that was a blessing though, maybe it saved her from a much worse fate. Katniss' eyes finally looked more soft, not off guard, but not blocked off from your words.

“Even though you know this time only one of you can come out?" Her eyes briefly flickered towards Finnick before landing back on you.

“I'm not expecting to be the one who makes it out and she wouldn't have either. It's worth it to save her, he'll be fine without me." The words were too raw, too much like being stripped naked, but you knew you needed her to trust you and being honest would probably be the most effective route. Of course she couldn't completely trust you if she'd watched your games, you didn't blame her for that, but you just needed a little of it. “It's not different from what you did for your sister, sometimes you just know when that person needs to be protected no matter what that means for you."

Katniss began walking over to where the spears were located, “Like Peeta said, if you show me how to use the spear and the knives, I can show you how to shoot the bow and what plants and berries you can trust." This was her way of some form of acceptance you realized and internally congratulated yourself.

“Sounds like a deal to me." You picked one of the heavy spears up, it was also just as you remembered. It brought back flashes of the boy who taught you how to use it, the boy you'd killed with it. You could tell what she was thinking as you held it, how you used Conway, used his emotions and then his own weapon. “You know, the funny thing is people act like he didn't know, but that’s really what made it so brilliant.” Katniss looked confused as you stepped into the platform, which confirmed it was you. "Looking back you realize how early on he had me figured out and was playing me right back, I really think that's what endeared us to each other in the first place. He was trying to beat me at my own game almost from the beginning and I didn't even realize.” You launched the spear into the first hologram before quickly grabbing the other as Katniss watched on, absorbing the seemingly impromptu rant. “I can't blame him, I don't blame him even if I'm the one who gets it all placed on my head, which I probably deserve." Another spear knocking the hologram figure apart. The final one ready to fly. “You just have to remember who the real enemy is."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"You two already have an advantage being from District 4, plenty of opportunities to practice with what you would be good at using in lessons. So stick with whatever you were good at then to impress, but don't forget to learn other skills that could be life saving in the long run.” Finnick was breaking down the plan for the two of you as the walk for the first training session with the other tributes was about to ensue. Although it went unspoken you'd also been blessed with extra practice even from back when you were dating Finnick in the district, he was so anxious that he needed to ensure you knew how to protect yourself. That you polished your skills, which he was sure you could do.

"Show off your strengths, but don't forget you're not just impressing the gamemakers, but the approval of other tributes can be vital. Alliances are important.” Ondine added.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “Another advantage from District 4, is the availability of the Career pack of tributes. All of the best trained and prepared tributes, especially if you show off enough to impress Districts 1 & 2 you're both a shoe-in. I'd encourage that as the strongest choice."

“I don't think we should do that." Conway’s voice of disagreement made you stop in your tracks. What was wrong with him? What could possibly be going on in his head that possessed him to argue with your mentor, someone who'd won before? Finnick raised an eyebrow, in a look you could only describe as patronizing. “I'm just saying that also means they're the best prepared to stab us in the back when it comes down to it. If we ally with tributes from a less prominent district it could make it easier when it comes down to it, make it less vicious.” He was delusional, it would be vicious no matter what when there were just a few people left.

You looked at Ondine who’s eyes were closed as she shook her head, Finnick's arms were crossed as he looked at the two of you, and Conway looked expectantly right at you. Then it hit you, this was a test. In order to maintain his trust in the fantasy you'd been carefully creating you'd have to take his side, prove you weren't loyal to every thing Finnick muttered. Even if it was hypocritical it angered you, it felt hellishly unfair that he would put you in a predicament like that. Who cared about the relationship between you and Finnick when he was the mentor offering advice to save both of your lives?

Conway pointed at you, urging you for a response. “I mean, what do you think? I'm just babbling aloud, I'll drop it if you think it's stupid." Maybe you were just paranoid, no, this was definitely a loyalty test. To him your love would mean support, it would mean unwavering devotion. So you painfully forced a caring, understanding look in your eyes, for your muscles to relax, and a loving smile on your face.

“Of course we should keep our options open, I mean we're not even there yet, the Careers this year might not even be the best options. You're right, Conway, we should consider every path to help us." Of course the Careers would be prepared, he was going to get you killed if he kept pulling this. Reasoning that at least your actions were well calculated not blindly emotional scrutinization. It made you slightly resent him, but the answer seemed to satisfy him as he grinned at the other two before beginning to walk again.

The slight spring in his step was obvious to anyone paying close enough attention, it upset you. When you hoped Conway wasn't watching, you shot a look towards Finnick. It was quick, but you grimaced and hoped your eyes could express your annoyance. Although the bob of his head was equally quick you could see he understood and was feeling just as enraged as you felt if not more. How could Conway claim to care about you when he could threaten a potentially life saving alliance to try and prove a point about how much you felt for him over Finnick? Although Finnick still wore a charming smile you could feel him seething and it comforted you somehow to know that he would never, that he would always pick safety, your safety and that he wouldn't stand for Conway’s games either. Even if rationally it did make sense, you were messing with him which both you and Finnick knew, but there wasn't time to think on that when it was life and death.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“You're brilliant, even if it pains me to admit that you beat me to it." Finnick shook his head, smiling wildly. Haymitch had informed you that so far Katniss would have liked you as an ally if it weren't for the package deal that included Finnick. A feat considering all the tributes that wanted to ally with her after her impressive show in the archery station. It had truly been amazing, how smoothly she used the weapon, and how accurate she was.

“Well, you're welcome." You pecked him on the lips, smiling. Sitting down on the bed and smoothing out your robe, Finnick soon followed.

“I love you so much." He mumbled as he crashed down onto the mattress.

“I love you too, Finnick." Your head lay down by his, quietly counting the freckles scattered across his face.

“Staring is rude." His eyes shone with his internal brightness that he couldn't hide from you.

“Isn't that a perk I should get being your wife and all?" He scooted closer, nose brushing against yours.

“I suppose. Don't know why you'd need to, there's no need to memorize when you're stuck with me forever now."

“Good." There was nothing you wanted more than to see his handsome face every day, from when you woke to when you slept and every moment in between.

His hot hands embraced your cold face, making you shiver and he smirked. It was so patronizing, how he knew that his skin to yours was like fire on ice so you had no choice but to melt, but you couldn't stop yourself from softening anyways. Before you could even try and conjure up words to try and call him out, his lips were on yours.

He wasn't aggressive, never, but his gentleness didn't take away from his control. Your lips chased him and suddenly you were beneath him, swept up in his plush lips. Hands searched for him before he pulled his face away. You couldn't stop yourself before you whined at the removal of his lips from yours, pouting at him.

He scoffed, looking down at you slightly condescending, “Really, angel?" You could feel your face heating up as his eyes gazed at you, his hand delicately tracing the hem of your robe. “We don't have to do this, if you don't want to, sweet girl. You have to communicate with me, I don't want to push you, if you even don't feel comfortable you need to tell me." It felt like too much in the moment when it seemed so blatantly obvious that you wanted him, craved him. But it also made you love him so much more.

For so long it had been difficult to even be touched. The Capitol had come in and dug their talons into you, your own intimacy didn't even belong to you. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. You'd tried to push it down, he'd dealt with it for so much longer, since he was so much younger. Pushing it down didn't stop the roots of trauma from taking root deep within your soul though.

You felt guilty for not being able to give yourself in so many ways to Finnick who was unbelievably patient, of course he was, he understood, he cared. When you'd finally grazed your hand against his and let him grab it, the pureness of the touch was enough to make you burst into tears. That made it more difficult too though, your tears. A tactic that had once seemed wise in winning over the Capitol as a sweet, innocent girl had come back to bite you. Echoes of how pretty you were when you cried.

When you'd finally given that part of yourself to Finnick, of your own accord, the will that has usually been taken from you. He'd made sure you wouldn't regret it, he brought back the positives of intimacy which you'd forgotten about. You were so used to calling upon the tears as you zoned out, floated away. But not with Finnick, never with him. Where you both belonged to each other and were truly connected as one.

“Are you comfortable?" You asked softly. It felt selfish that he was so worried about you with what he'd been through as well, like it was too much about you.

Finnick sighed, “Don't do that." You looked at him quizzically, “Averting the question, you shouldn't be doing it to please me, I'll be okay. I wouldn't have gotten this far if I wasn't.” His hand stroked the side of your face which chased each movement. "Are you certain you want this? I'm not going to be upset if you say no, angel.” The way he loved you so deeply to be going step by step wasn't even grating anymore it just made your heart buzz even more.

"I do want this Finnick, I know what to say if it is too much.” The thumb grazing your neck was enough to make your eyes roll back, your entire body sensitive with the waiting.

Finnick nodded, slowly. Making sure you weren't just trying to appease him, "Color?”

You sighed dramatically, "Green.” He tugged your hair lightly, "Ow!”

"So impatient, trying to take good care of my girl and she's too desperate to appreciate it.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

You pouted, “I'm sorry, Finnick. I'm just-" You gasped as his hand slipped in your rope, warm hand grazing the cold, hardness of your nipple. Legs rubbing together, his other hand, instantly sitting between them to hold them still.

“Speak up, angel. Just what?" That's what you appreciated so much, he was dominant, took care of you without the casual cruelty others often used. Of course he could be cruel in the best way, a type that still cared and knew what the line was and respected it.

“Need you, please. So, so bad." Your hands grabbed his shoulders, then the sides of his neck desperately trying to feel more of his warmth.

He hummed condescendingly, “You do?" His hand left your breast to the toe of the robe which he slowly unknotted. You nodded, brows furrowed as you tried to buck your hips. The hand prevented your legs from getting closer together, hitting your inner thigh but not in a forceful manner. “Come on sweet girl, can't you behave for me, won't you be my good girl?" His ocean eyes had you nodding along mindlessly. “Words."

“Yes, please, I just, please I need more."

“So needy." The knot on your robe untied, falling open to reveal you to the crisp air. His hand trailing down to where you needed him most, the feeling already sending shocks through your body. You wanted desperately to buck your hips up once again but resisted. He chucked, “Is this all for me? I haven't even really touched you yet." You nodded desperately, the teasing made you want to cry in desperation. Which was fine, but thinking about it scared you, the way they'd taken away two things that were so natural, so personal would distract you.

“Finnick." You said shakily and the time instantly made his face get serious.

“Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head vigorously.

"No, just-” Your fingers fiddled with the blanket, embarrassed, "Can you just take some deep breaths with me?”

"Of course, my love.” He grabbed the hand nervously moving around the blankets to hold it to his heart. “You're okay, in and out with me, angel." You closed your eyes, breathing with him, his heart reverberating through you. “Let me know when you want to keep going or stop." He whispered.

“Finnick, I just want to cry, not in a bad way just it's been so, so ruined for me." Weaponized, sexualized.

He nodded, “You can cry if you want, I'll wipe them away from you." The idea made you want to cry at his sweetness alone.

“Okay." Your voice was shaky, “We can keep going, please." His fingers began moving again, right over your core. Palm slightly running against you and it took all of you to not rub with him. Fingers delicately circling your sensitive nub and you moaned out. The first tears falling which he diligently wiped away with his time and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Is that good?" You nodded blissfully and he swatted at your bareness causing a yelp.

“Yes, thank you Finnick, so good."

“Good girl, such a fast learner." You whimpered, toes curling. “What do you need?"

“In me, please."

“What, my fingers?" He held one hand up, moving them in front of your face. The man was mocking you, he knew what you meant and he kept rubbing your clit, making it nearly impossible to keep verbalizing.

“No!" You stammered out desperately. He smirked and removed his fingers from your bundle of nerves, causing you to hit his arm in frustration before he was grinding his clothed member on you and your hands wrapped around his shoulder tightly. You nodded intently, “Yes please. Want you to be inside of me, want to be one Finnick, yours." It hit you that this was the consummation of your marriage which made your heart swell as well as your need.

“Can't deny you anything, sweet girl." He was such a liar, but right now he followed through. Your hands began pulling down the pants he wore, desperate to free him so he could be buried in your walls. He groaned as your hand grazed his tip, precum dotting it. You licked your lips and he smirked cockily, “Another time, angel."

"How do you want me?” You asked, you'd take him anyway he wanted just to be clenched around him.

"Just the way you are is perfect, wanna see you, beautiful.” He lined himself up with your soaked entrance, "Are you sure, you're ready? Don't need more preparation.” You shook your head vigorously, pushing yourself forward to feel the tip and he grunted.

“Don't need it, so wet, I can take you, promise."

"Only if you're sure.” You nodded again, pouting.

"Please!” You whined and with that he didn't hold back, pushing his full length in and you nearly screamed. Clenching your walls around him, fingernails digging into him.

“That feel good?"

“So, so, so good." You began sliding your hand down, but he caught it tutting in disapproval.

"I've got you, angel, just lay there like a good girl. Let me take care of you too, you're making me feel so good.” His expert fingers went straight back to your clit as he began pounding in and out of you.

“Oh God, Finnick!" Your eyebrows pulled together and eyes snapped shut as he filled you. It was like you were a perfect fit for each other.

“So perfect angel, just looking at you made me think I wasn't even gonna make it into you." Finnick groaned, he knew exactly what you liked, what pace to go. You'd been so used to faking it or them not caring at all, but with him he could get you there so fast, so hard, and could do it over and over so perfectly. His fingers rubbing into your bundle of nerves that had you biting into your bottom lip to stop you from waking the whole floor. Both actions made you want to scream in ecstacy. “Are you close already, angel? Do I really make you feel like that, so fast?” You nodded, dumbly making mindless noises as his hips thrusted in and out. “Me too. I don't know how you do it to me. Where do you want me, stomach, mouth, inside?" His groaning was making his own speech shaky.

“Inside please, need to feel it, Finnick."

“You sure?" He asked, biting down on his bottom lip as your moans from his skilled fingers working their magic as he kept moving inside of you made him even closer.

“Yes, yes, yes, need to be one, just you and me. Need it inside." He pinched the bundle of nerves lightly as he hit the spot inside of you that had you kicking your feet on sheets. “I'm gonna, oh I'm gonna-"

“I know, just wait a little bit longer, angel, I'm almost there. So close, be my good, good girl." You whined, nodding.

“Wanna be so good for you."

He nodded, the words bringing him even closer to the edge as he roughly thrusted into you. “You are, so good, just gotta hold back a little longer." You were sobbing, lost in the high as he wiped away the tears streaming down.

“Feels so good, Finnick, I can't please let me, need to."

“Wait." He said sternly, at this point he felt like he was denying himself too just to watch you squirm and listen to his every word. Grabbing your face softly so your eyes were trained on him, hand still rubbing fast circles on your clit. “Been such a good girl, don't ruin it." His hips started stuttering inside of you.

You shook your head, “I won't, I'm sorry. Wanna be good." He let go of your face with his free hand and pinched your nipple. “Finnick, please, I can't. Please don't be mean, I need you.”

"Making me feel so good, my love. Clenching around me, trying to hold back, you're such a good listener." He pinched your clit again, he was being mean, he couldn't deny it but the way you cried out and started trying to push away from him was bringing him straight to the edge. “Color?"

“Green." You choked out, “Please, Finnick, I can't." Your hands pushed against his chest.

"Then you know what to say, angel." He raised an eyebrow, “So you can." It would feel so much better, be so much harder for both of you the longer he kept this up. His lips attached to your breast and you tugged his hair, he moaned onto you and the vibrations had you desperately trying to fend off the orgasm approaching.

“Please, I need to. I know you are too." He thrust into that special spot in you again and your hands hit the sheets in frustration as your eyes fluttered.

“Be patient, don't be a brat." He pulled away from your breast to look at you. He pressed down on your clit and thrust into you again, “Oh god, gonna let go inside of you now, angel. Be all over your walls, gonna feel so good. Been such a good girl, you ready to let go of me."

“Yes, please!"

“You can let go, sweet girl." His lips pressed to yours to quiet both of you moans as you finally both let yourself go. You could've sworn the way his split inside you made your shaking even harder. It was so good, so worth it.

You were nearly breathless when you pulled away, “That was new."

“Are you okay?" He asked, eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, of course. I just, you're always incredible, I'm great.” You laughed breathlessly.

"Oh, good.” He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Thank you."

“You don't have to thank me, angel."

“Yes I do, they've taken so much of both of us and you just bring so much of it back to just being so real, so it doesn't feel like they own it anymore."

“That's just being a decent human, I just want to take care of you. Through all the ups and downs." He was so kind, it made you ecstatic that for as long as either of you were alive you'd always be one with each other, bonded through everything you loved. “Come on, we have another long day tomorrow, let's get cleaned up."

“What if we just didn't go, just laid here together, until it passed."

“I'd love to." His eyes were earnest and like pools you could drown in, “Nothing I want more than being with you forever. But they'd drag us out and we have things to do, my love.” He helped lift you up from where you lay comfortably. Your nose scrunched up." What?”

You pulled apart your thighs, "So sticky.”

He laughed before he could stop himself, "Well I'm not the one who asked for it.” That smug, loveable ass.

"Shut up, you loved it.” Softly shoving his arms as you went to stand.

He raised his arms in defense, "Guilty as charged."

He was so perfect, the way he was so effortlessly funny, so compassionate for all your needs even if you didn't verbalize them, how patient he was yet so stern and guiding. Much too good for what you could give him, you'd go to hell and back to do half as much as he did for you. Of course he always assured you of all you did to help him, but it felt so miniscule compared to what he did for you. The things you would sacrifice to help him, to be by his side were unmatched.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading!! I haven't written smut in so long and this really isn't a smut heavy series but I felt like exploring how what snow did to the victors who were deemed to be desirable would effect their intimacy and sometimes a little spice is needed to deal with all the angst I write. if you enjoyed it feedback is always appreciated, likes, comments, reblogs, anything and my ask box is already open if you have any questions or ideas! thank you all so much for reading 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery

[prentissluvr]

HI MARI !!

IM HERE WITH MY DEAN THOUGHTS!! (mostly platonic)

when you become friends/best friends, he’s ride or die for you

not on the same level of sammy but it’s a close second

the playful banter between the two of you is just great

although he knows that he can be annoying and uses it to his advantage

flirting with you to annoy his brother (he knows that sammy is in love with you and does it to get on his nerves)

PET NAMES!

has a reserved nickname for you but does pull out the pet names if you’re having a bad day

speaking of bad days/sick days

he will go out of his way to take care of you

pulls out all of the stops for his bestie

this is when you realize this man is a secret softy at heart (refuses to admit it, because he’s a “big bad hunter”)

platonic cuddles/casual physical affection

dean is reserved with physical affection (im thinking post hell! dean) (earlier szns dean wouldn’t hold back tbh)

but once he’s comfortable with you (and is sure that you won’t leave him or sammy)

then it’s a free for all

swinging his arm over your shoulder, sharing a bed if there’s only two beds (sam seethes sometimes but this is way before you guys get together lol), resting his head in your lap during movie nights (starts off as a joke wanting to annoy you but then does it almost everytime you guys have one, loves when his hair is getting played with)

there’s def more but ill cut it off here (i love bestie dean but im also in love with him LOL) (the winchester brothers have a GRIP on me)

HELLO DAISYYYY HEHEHEHE this is amazing i'm so obsessed <33

cw : mentions of injuries, pet names obviously , dean is annoying ofc <3, sammy and reader like each other, swearing probably, alcohol mention, unedited! wc : 1.5K

⟢ ride or die : i mean yeah, this is pretty much undeniable. sure, sam will always be his first priority, but the moment he knows that you're a part of the team, no doubts, he's prepared to do just about anything for you. both fortunately and unfortunately, this does mean he gets really protective of you similarly to how he is with sam, especially if you're younger than him. and even if you're not, the fact that you're his best friend makes you family, and we know how dean feels about family <3

⟢ playful banter : this is basically just your whole friendship with him HAHA. not truly, of course, but mostly heh. like idk what else to say, he'll take any opportunity to tease you or make you fake angry because he just thinks it's too funny. and he'll love whatever way you respond to that. he definitely enjoys if you return his fire with your own teasing and retorts and i personally think you are so allowed to be mean to him because he's an idiot!! obviously don't be actually mean, but he enjoys having a teasing relationship where you can call each other stupid and know that the other means it with love lol.

when the two of you get into it, sam gets so annoyed. like you'll be arguing about the value of mustard on sandwiches and both of you are so invested in winning the argument and sam is like oh my god, dean please focus on the road and shut up, both of you😭😭 the boy is trying to sleep, he doesn't need this right now. so you either keep arguing in hushed tones (which doesn't last for long) or you pick it back up at another time (that's also probably inconvenient and annoying to sam still HA).

and yeah, dean can be very annoying and he loves to rile you up LOL. it's great when you reciprocate his banter, but sometimes he's just so ridiculous that it has you rolling your eyes and groaning in frustration. and unfortunately for you, that, or any other dramatic response, is exactly what dean is trying to get out of you. "dean, will you shut up?" is one of his favorites. he just laughs at you, he thinks the way you say it is so funny and cute.

he does other annoying things too, like rest his elbow on your head or shoulder if it reaches, he doesn't care if you're his same height, barely shorter, or significantly shorter, he's gonna make fun of your height. and if you're taller, yeah he's still gonna make fun of that, too. he'll playfully put his hand on the top of your head, just for the pure intention of annoying you. idk basically anything that annoys you, he does it (usually without going overboard, he knows where to draw the line).

and yeah, the flirting is more about annoying sam, but it's a total plus when you give him that look saying, "really, are you kidding me?" he'll love a good banter on that end of the spectrum too, if you're down for flirting back. unfortunately, this sends sam the wrong message for the longest time, but it's not your fault that you don't know that he likes you back! you're just playing around with dean heh.

⟢ pet names/nicknames : yes yes yes!! he absolutely has a nickname that is specific to you!! basically your version of "sammy." it might be a nickname based off of your given name, but it totally could be an inside joke, something silly and cute. it might even be a pet name that he uses for you exclusively. i can see him calling a younger best friend "pumpkin," mostly as another method of annoying you. that one is used pretty sparingly though because it's a little over the top for the both of you. he definitely uses it a lot less than whatever his main nickname for you is, which he uses just about all the time lol. if you have a nickname based off you name, sam probably uses that, too. so, dean likes having a separate nickname that he came up with which only he uses.

and yes! he does use pet names casually and occasionally, but he's far more likely to use them if you're having a bad day, if you were injured on a hunt, or something like that! i think maybe this is just because i'm obsessed with the time that dean called lisa honey once, but i think the idea of dean calling his best friend honey is really adorable. that one is used for maximum comfort, especially if you're injured <3 "c'mon, honey. keep your eyes open, you're okay." i can also see dean using baby platonically sometimes!

he does occasionally use over the top names like sugar plum or honey bunches to annoy you lol. he will "sweetheart" you in a teasing way because he loves the way it makes you fume LOL. but in special circumstances, he'll call you sweetheart sincerely (also more likely when you're injured—"you're alright, sweetheart, we're almost to the motel"). idk if this counts as a pet name, but he'll definitely call you kid and kiddo if you're younger than him like how he does with charlie <3 i see him using darlin' very casually! "alright, c'mon darlin', let's see what sammy found." casual pet names means he's in a good mood though. he also will use insults like pet names because you're his idiot best friend <33

he won't tell you this but he likes if you've got a nickname for him, too! but he will tease you if you try to use the same pet names for him, even if you're casual about it in the same way he is.

⟢ taking care of you on bad/sick days : uhm yeah, he tries not to be obvious about it, but when he goes the the store just to pick up your favorite treat or kisses your forehead like fifty billion times when he thinks you're asleep, there's no way you can miss what a big softie he is. if the way you wear your hair allows, he'll brush any stray strands out of your face, especially if you're sick and it's stuck to your face with with sweat. checks your temperature on your forehead with his hand <3 then if he thinks you have a fever, he busts out the thermometer and takes your temp that way just to make sure you don't have to go to the hospital. he brings you your meds and lovingly bothers you about eating enough food. makes you watch movies with him lol

on days that are simply just bad, well, he's horrible with emotions, but he knows that pie and alcohol can fix almost anything (this is not true, but it still helps you to have a treat and a drinking buddy). while he's bad with emotions, he is absolutely more than willing to listen to anything you need to talk about. he's not sure how to tell you that he's there for you out loud, so he'll pour you another drink if you're not too drunk and rub your back with a soft, but firm hand. his go to phrase to comfort you is, "we'll figure it out," and it works because you know he really means it, and he says it in a soft and sweet tone that's quite rare for him.

⟢ physical affection : he can definitely be more reserved sometimes with touch, but he welcomes any physical affection that you initiate. if you purposefully stand shoulder to shoulder, he'll put his arm around you, and he'll certainly accept any hugs you have to offer. like you said, once he's even more comfortable and confident in your being around, he's much more open about swinging an arm around your shoulder and any given moment (especially because he can shove you around a little that way lmao).

he's definitely okay with the bed sharing, mostly because it's a necessity, though he tries to get you to share with sam much more once he realizes that you like each other because he can see sam physically become upset when you share with dean lmao.

movie nights are prime time for physical affection with dean!! i definitely agree that he puts his head in your lap first to annoy you, but when you don't bat an eye and start running your fingers through his hair, he's done for. he always is trying to get you to do it again, every time you watch something together, and that's when it gets annoying lmao, because he won't let you rest your head on his shoulder anymore or let you be the one to put you head in his lap. he'll make an exception if you're having a bad though hah. once again, he will dial down the cuddles if he can tell that it's bothering sam, but will absolutely not give up the physical affection with you because he thinks sam needs to get over it LOL. because, at the end of the day!! you'll always be his best friend, and he will always respect you and your relationship with sammy.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slenderman x Short!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You risk life and limb to stick silly little glow-in-the-dark stars to your ceiling. Slender saves you.

This can absolutely be considered a part of the world in this Slender x Reader fic: Slenderman x SlenderMansionMaid!Reader || Oneshot.

Warnings: Slender and Y/N are very cranky towards eachother XD Its also unedited for now.

Tagging: @microwavemadness , @miss_understood , and @yesthetrashbin .

Your sock-clad feet feel slippery on your smooth bedframe but you balance very carefully, holding your arms out and slowly lowering them to your sides. In one hand is a sheet of glow-in-the-dark green star stickers; the reason you're up in this precarious position, perched atop the 3 inch frame at the end of your bed. Its the only way that you can reach the damn ceiling!! You're too short for a mere step stool to make much of a difference and you cant find a ladder.

Taking a deep breath, you loo at the stickers. Ever-so-slowly, you start peeling stickers off the shiny paper and sticking them on the ceiling in pretty configurations that you think resemble constellations- your own constellations. Your own galaxy.

Every creak that your bedframe gives makes you nervous every moment that you're up there, but you're invested. You wanna turn the lights off later, windows cracked open making your cheeks cold from the nighttime air and feel like you're free outside but safe in your comfy bed.

As you cautiously, deliberately scatter star stickers across your personal night sky, you find yourself thinking how Slender's gonna react to it, and give a grin. Surely he thinks glow in the dark star stickers are stupid and frivolous; just go outside. Look at the real thing. Are you allergic to nature??

"Sometimes, I do wonder."

As soon as Slender's deep staticky voice fills your head up like water so suddenly you give a jolt in shock, eyes wide as your head snaps around to the door. You see a flash of him, just a flash, before your body nearly topples over. You would've crashed right to the floor and broken something (Or knocked your head on something and died), but you land in a pair of long, cold arms; close to a cold firm chest. Heart beating uncomfortably fast, you look up towards Slender's 'face' with wide eyes and a wordless gaping mouth. "... "

"Well? Your mouth's open; say something."

The bluntness in his tone sparks a little frustration in you, your eyebrows furrowing and snapping. "Don't sneak up on a person when they're balanced high-up like that!!"

Slender gives a sigh, lowering your feet gently to the floor and allowing you to slip away from him on your own. "You knew I was here in the mansion- this is my house. You should've been more aware."

"I didn't think you were going to appear randomly!!"

"Well, your lack of forethought is not my fault." At this rude comment, you open your mouth to curse at him- but he's moved on; looking up at the ceiling so close to the top of his head. The ceilings in this mansion are much higher then the typical home but the top of his head is still only a foot away from it. "What on earth are you doing to my property??"

"I'm- well- " For a moment you're going to explain to him- but then you decide not to. Petulantly, you put your hands on your hips and set your face into a look of sternness. "What does it look like??"

"A child's terrible artwork." He wonders deeper into your room, looking at the stars. "... on my ceiling."

"Well then that must be what it is. The door's back over here- "

"Are these the tacky glow-in-the-dark kind?" Slender's fingers glide over a couple of your stars, and you sigh; crossing your arms close over your chest.

"... yes. I like them; I think they're pretty. Problem??"

"I thought my calling them 'tacky' pre-explained that part, actually." He turns to look your way, and you feel his gaze on you in a way that almost feels like a smirk. Oh, this abominable, insufferable, smug ass- "I can hear your thoughts Y/N."

"Oh I know. Its a fringe benefit."

"Bringing you here was a completely failed experiment; I don't know w h a t I was thinking... " He sighs airily, looking back to the stars. And there was a time when his words would've stung, but he says hurtful things like that all the time. Its just how he communicates, the cantankerous old bastard. And you're perfectly aware that he's an asshole, so you don't put much value in his words, anyway. "Hand me those stickers."

That makes you pause. "... why?" You ask, tilting your head and holding your stickers against your chest. You don't want him to confiscate them! He can order you to do anything he wants, technically, but you really don't want to give up your star stickers!! You wont back down without a fight!-

"I'm going to place them on the ceiling for you." He holds out his hand, one totally white palm and long stem-like fingers. "Hand them over."

Huffing, you approach him and plop them into his hand. You believe him. Slender doesn't lie; he doesn't have to. Not even to be nice. "-Okay, but I'm gonna tell you where to put them. I need more over- "

"Over there by the bookcase, I know. And no, you will not be. I am not your slave- you're mine as a matter of fact, in case your tiny human brain managed to forget."

"Uhuh." You sure look obedient... you think, smirking at him using a finger to gently rub stickers exactly where you wanted them- seemingly, without even knowing for sure you wanted them right there. He just has taste, you guess.

"You know I could just leave you. And we have a ladder, by the way, but I wont tell you where it is."

"You're an ass."

"Oh, where have I heard that before... " Slender sounds very much like he's rolling nonexistent eyes full sarcasm- you don't know how he does it!

~

By the time night falls, your entire ceiling is covered in intricate constellations made out of plastic, paint and glue and when you look up in the dark its exactly what you wanted. Beautiful glowing stars all across your bedroom ceiling, like alien sprinkles. You let out a happy sigh, all the stress from your day dissipating along with your breath into the open air.

Slender's next to you, an he ruins the moment; naturally. "... ah, yes. Looks just as dumb as I thought."

For once you don't snap back at him; you turn and give the crotchety eldritch monster a tight smile; the best you can muster for him. "Thank you for helping, that was really uncharacteristically nice of you, Slender. I love it."

Gently, without moving at all, Slender says- "... well that was the point, wasn't it."

-and the smile slips right off your face. You're glad its dark, and he probably (hopefully- ) cant see it.

Neither of you say anything else. Not tonight.

[p1a9u3]

PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day

Masterpost Ch.1 - Ch.2 Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc

Rating: 18+ (mdni)

Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn

Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving

Status: Unedited

Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3. Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter

Monday, February 26, 2024 Time: 8:30AM Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.

'You can't live with your parents forever'

People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.

'They don't know our relationship'

More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.

"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.

Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.

"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump

"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.

"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."

You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.

"Okay."

Time: 9:00AM Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.

"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road

Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now

'How could want to leave your mother'

You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.

'But you know your mother may need you right'

All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.

'you could've found a place closer to her you know'

Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.

Time: 11:23AM The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota. Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway. You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video 'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)' You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.

Time: 12:35PM Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes. 'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)' You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say

"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.

The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.

'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'

She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.

'What happens if Devon goes back home'

Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.

'What if he stops taking his medication again.'

They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.

'Has another episode and gets out'

That wouldn't happen. He's fine

'He'll be there when mom gets back'

No.

"Hes gonna ki-'

-beep! beep! beep!-

Time: 2:00PM Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.

"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water ( translation: Are you ready to switch)

Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.

"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.

You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.

"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.

"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.

Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.

"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.

Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.

"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.

You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.

Time: 10:56PM Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it

'What was that guys name again'

Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.

"Dylan is in trouble"

You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.

Time: 5:00AM You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.

"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours

"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.

You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.

"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door. (translation: Fuck)

Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.

Ch.1 - Ch.2

Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.

[nevernonline]

✧.* sweet disposition; hjs

the innocence of youth, isn't it blissful? your youth was your childhood crush, joshua. a pretty boy from your hometown who became your best friend.

✧ paring: non-idol! joshua x fem! reader

✧ genre/s: high school crush! joshua, f2l.

✧ word count: 4.0k

✧ warning/s: swearing, kissing, some smutty scenes, mentions of substances (alcohol&weed mainly) mentions of illness, minors dni.

✧ note/s: sweet disposition by temper trap is one of my all time fav songs, and i was watching old sytycd episodes for my soul and when I heard it I knew I had to write a silly little fic. also def unedited so sorry. atp I'm just making a svt song series. lol. ily.

When he first met you in high school Joshua knew he liked you, something about your soft smile and ease of fitting into every social situation made him want to be your friend.

You were a transfer student from a public school into his much more prestigious private one and almost automatically fit in with everyone.

He admired you for that, but it wasn’t until the first year of knowing you passed that he realized he loved you.

You were sitting on a bench watching him and his team practice for a big lacrosse match, well not exactly watching the boys play and run around the field. But, sitting on a bench reading one of those romance novels you loved, like Wuthering Heights or some Jane Austen novel. Something about them made you invested in reading, Joshua tried, but he couldn’t shake the fact that someone in a period romance is dying of the plague or having a maid clean out their chamber pot before the rest of the royals arrive.

He was distracted by you more than ever that day. your glasses were changed into contacts, your legs longer, and your hair plaited into braids on each side of your head tied together with matching blue hair bands.

You felt your ears burning as you looked up from your novel, finding Joshua standing in the center of the field as the opposing team members scored a goal on his side and celebrated, but he was stuck. Stuck in a moment of noticing you before the coaches whistle dragged him out of his dream state.

He never confessed his feelings for you, not yet. He didn’t want to seem selfish now that you weren’t the nerdy girl he once met, but a girl transitioning into her own womanhood. Well, at least on the outside.

Time seemed to pass whenever you were with him and suddenly he realized it was the start of your senior year, just like that Joshua was back dreaming about asking you to the homecoming dance, a dance that you helped organize.

Joshua had an entire day planned to ask you on your first date, he would come over carrying a bouquet of flowers, carrying a dress in your favorite shade of blue, and him in his matching suit. He made dinner reservations and even made a book of things he loved about you, like your own Austen novel just from him.

When he rang your doorbell, a familiar face answered, but it wasn’t yours it was Soonyoung from his lacrosse team, dressed in a white suit adorned with a red sash, a sash he came to find out matched your beautiful long dress, and even the small flower placed in your hair.

A missed chance, now he looked like a fool standing in your doorway, but he lied. He just lied and told you that he needed your help asking someone else to the dance. Aside from the book he made, all the effort he put in for you was wasted on someone else.

After all was said and done, Joshua was happy you ended up going with Soonyoung. You were smiling, laughing, and dancing with someone who deserved your happiness. He was a nice guy, as nice as you were.

The book that Joshua made for you was still in his closet at his parents house, just like the rest of your memories together.

A few days later his flight landed on the route back to you. Stepping off the plane a gush of warm air and the smell of peaches hit his nose, something about it felt like you and that stupid peach flavored lip gloss you always wore.

Joshua looked around the airport feeling that maybe you would be here too, but he knew that you were off with your friend celebrating her birthday for the next two nights.

His mom pulled up on the curb in her black suv, greeting him with a comfortably tight hug and a small peck on the cheek and he was home.

He tried to ask her about you, maybe seeing if she had any information on where you went or if you were single, but she had no idea. She just told him to be patient and ask when he saw you.

After two days of going around to all of his old favorite places, some closed or turned into boutique clothing or vape shops, he still was met with the emptiness of not seeing you yet.

On that second night at home he met up with his friends and some of their significant others at a new bar that just opened a few months prior, to catch up and also to distract him from you, just for one night at least.

A few hours went by and his buzz grew stronger, he felt guilty he hadn’t thought about you most of his night, but why should he?

Soonyoung took the open space on the red leather couch next to Joshua and sat down two shots of tequila, a ritual for the two of them to keep their buzz going.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Shua? You seem sad.”

“Uh, nothing I guess I just missed being here. I miss you guys.”

“Aw, we missed you too, but I don’t think that’s it. What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen y/n yet, I’m nervous I guess?”

“Of course. You had the biggest crush on her, sorry for taking her to that dance.”

“No, it’s okay. I just- Well, I guess it’s dumb to be nervous. We still talk every day, but I just haven't seen her in real life in too long. It’s just weird I guess.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

“I don’t know, maybe. She’s probably just moved on from me.

“Is it eating you up inside? Wait, that's a dumb question clearly it is. You think she’s dating someone?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t think so. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“Na, last time I saw her she sat in the corner of the room on her phone the whole time texting you.”

“Really? See, she doesn’t even tell me when she goes out to parties.”

“Are you that jealous? You know y/n, she’s not like that, Joshua, stop getting weird and in your head about it.”

Soonyoung handed Joshua his phone that was placed face down on the table and then handed him a shot of liquid courage.

“Call her, ask her out. Don’t be a bitch.”

“You're right, thanks Hosh.”

Pulling up your contact information on his phone, two rings in you picked up, clearly half asleep from just getting back home.

“Shua? Hi, sorry I got home an hour ago. What are you doing?”

“Oh my god, sorry I woke you. I was just calling to see if you wanted to hangout tomorrow? I was thinking maybe Leslie’s for lunch and then the arcade or something?”

“Yeah, should I pick you up or meet you?”

“You can meet me, if that's okay? I’m going to a church thing with my mom, I’ll have her drop me off.”

“Sure, I’m going to go back to bed now okay? I promise I’ll be less tired tomorrow, Love you.”

“Okay y/n, I’ll see you then, okay? Sleep good, love you.”

“Oh, and Shua.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let Soony give you too many shots okay? Save some alcohol room in your belly for me.”

“I promise, night angel.”

“Night, loverboy.”

Joshua’s nerves were beginning to get the best of him as he walked into the dim light of the italian restaurant and informed the host that he was here meeting his friend, as he was being ushered to the back he saw you seated at a small corner table, lit with a candle, wearing a slick black top and a pair of matching pants, a simple denim jacket was placed over your shoulders shielding you slightly from the air conditioning.

“Hi.”

You got up from your spot against the wall and greeted Joshua with a big hug when your giggles filled his ears realizing you were both dressed in nearly the same outfit.

“I see you got the memo, Joshua.”

“I see you still copy me after all this time.”

Gesturing for you both to sit back down, he noticed how casual you were after all this time spent apart, possibly just as a front knowing soon he’ll be back to teasing you once he snaps out of his awkwardness.

“So, how's your dad? Is everything okay?”

“He’s alright, he’s been in remission for a few months now.”

“I’m happy to hear that, really. I always loved your dad.”

The waitress came over at a perfect moment, a chance for Joshua to collect his thoughts and place an order for a bottle of wine to calm his quick heartbeat.

“So you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I’m too busy with med school and taking care of my dad to date, you know that. What’s with the weird questions? You want to know the next time I’m supposed to be on my period too? You sound like my mom.”

“Sorry, I just-”

And just like that, the waitress made her second entrance, bringing along the bottle of red liquid and your two meals, delaying Joshua’s chance once again to ask you his set of weird questions.

He let the moment pass while the two of you ate in silence and each had a glass to ease the awkward tension now lingering over your table.

“So-”

You both spoke up at the same time, you decided to let him finish his thought first.

“Okay, wait I just thought of another question. Why did you take Soonyoung to the dance and not go with me?”

“Because I had a crush on him, duh.”

“No way you had a crush on him? He used to pick his boogers and wipe them on his jeans.”

“I’m kidding. He was just a good friend, I was too shy to ask the guy I wanted so I asked him instead.”

“Who was the guy? Jun from your biology class? He was cute.”

“No, he was cute. But, this dude's name was like Joshua Honk or something, not sure if you knew him.”

“You had a crush on me?”

“Obviously, but you’re kind of a fucking idiot.”

“Okay, well how do you feel about me now?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in years and you're asking me what I think about you?”

“Yep, I need to know why I was your secret sexy crush.”

“Disgusting.”

“I’m waiting.”

You looked Joshua up and down, his hair was longer than normal, his eyes still big and wide, catching every glimmer of light inside of them like a cluster of stars, his lips were turned into a toothy smile. He was perfect.

“I think you’re okay.”

“Just okay? Damn. Whatever.”

“Want to take some dessert to go? I think we have some unfinished business.”

Waving over the waitress and paying your bill as she picked up your box of tiramisu, you and Joshua ran down the streets where you grew up to the very arcade you’d spend hours in after school.

“Okay, the winner gets what? I think we’re betting with more than tickets these days.”

“Well, y/n. I’m glad you asked. How about if I win, I get to take you home with me and if you win you get to take me home.”

“Seems like we’d both be getting what you want out of it.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be with your super sexy secret lover, Shua Honk?”

“Win, and you’ll find out.”

“You’re on, but I’ll warn you I’m very good in bed.”

“Horny and sarcastic and horny very interesting combination for you, Honk.”

“Shut up and play.”

After hours of playing multiple games around the arcade you and Joshua were tied and his anxiety had been eased, all that stood between him and winning was a game of ski ball, a game which you were notoriously bad at.

“Need help with your game, y/n?”

A nod from you made Joshua push his chest against your back and wrap his arm around your waist, the other one held your hand helping you aim the ball on the black trackpad, a pull of your hips backwards into his sent a strong vibration down to your panties, that were now as wet as the saliva burning in your mouth.

“50 points? Not bad for a rookie.”

“You threw me off.”

“You really think you would’ve won even if I didn’t help you?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so distracting, yes.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“What? By thrusting into my ass?”

“I didn’t thrust? You pushed your ass into me?”

“No, I did not, you clearly made contact first.”

“Okay, well then that was a practice round, prove you can win with no help. I'll buy all your drinks tonight and if you lose, open your wallet, rich girl.”

“Fine, try to control the friend in your pants, loser.”

Joshua wanted to respond with some sarcastic remark not promising anything from the way he was watching you bed over to roll the ball from behind, but he decided to shut up and let you win, he wouldn’t have you paying for him anyway.

“You let me win, but I will be taking the drinks.”

“How did you know?”

“You threw the ball backwards twice to skip your turn, you’re good at many things but subtly is not one of them.”

“Okay, but still let me buy the drinks.”

“You were always going to pay anyway, I’m not wasting my cold hard cash on you, california boy”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

Walking into the familiar dive bar you spent many late nights in after studying, you were hit with the sweet smell of beer and the crunching of peanut shells under your feet. You caught a glimpse of Joshua looking around at the various world flags on the wall.

“What? Not fancy enough for you?”

“No, I love it. I didn’t even know this was here?”

“Yeah, my dad told me about it. He comes with me sometimes to watch soccer, it’s cozy.”

“Sit down, I’ll go and order what would you like?”

“Just grab me a beer, maybe with a lime wedge?”

“And a shot?”

“Ugh, fine Joshua but I do not want to be responsible for carrying your drunk ass home.”

“No promises.”

Joshua strolled up to the wooden bar, greeted by the big man with facial hair behind it and placed the two matching orders, a shot of tequila and a beer with lime.

“You’re here with y/n?”

“Oh, y/n? Yeah, you know her?”

“I know her dad, good man. You her boyfriend?”

“No, just her friend. Nice to meet you..”

“Alan.”

“Alan, hey. I’m Josh.”

Alan shook Joshua’s outstretched hands and denied his card from being swiped for the alcohol.

“It’s on the house, if you’re friends with the y/l/n’s you’re friends with me. Enjoy and treat our girl well, if you’re the Joshua she tells me about, then I hope she gets her happy ending.”

“Wait what does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing you can’t figure out for yourself.”

Walking back over to your small bar table, Joshua decided to take the spot directly next to you in the booth and not across the table, maybe to hear you better and maybe so he can figure out what Alan was putting down.

“You met Alan?”

“Yeah, he told me to take care of you.”

“He’s protective, he normally scares the weird drunkards away from my table."

“I’m playing your bodyguard tonight, cheers.”

Throwing back your shot, you tried to calm the burning taste of alcohol from showing on your face, Joshua held up a slice of line to your lips and let you bite down on it before placing it between his.

“Ew, why didn’t you just use your own lime.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Want to kiss me that bad huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

You slapped his arm, taking a swig of your fresh beer.

“It was a joke, be quiet.”

“I do want to kiss you.”

“Oh, right. Okay, save the jokes. You don’t have to tease me for my crush anymore. I get it.”

“Do you still like me?”

“ I probably always will. At least some part of me. Why do you ask?”

“ I don't know, I asked you before what you like about me so do you want to know what I like about you?”

“My body?”

“No, but that doesn’t hurt. I like how kind you are. I like that everyone who meets you falls in love with you instantly because you’re so charming. I love that when you laugh or cry too hard you start wheezing a little bit because you’re embarrassed that someone could see you like that. I love that you, even after all this time, have the nicest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

A tear fell down from your eye, and Joshua’s long finger came up to cup your cheek, wiping it away with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry. I just missed you.”

“You know I have something for you, it’s old but I've never had the chance to give it to you.”

Joshua pulled the brown leather bound notebook from his bag that had a laminated front titled ‘ The Girl from Nowhere.’

“What is this? Did you write a book?”

“Remember the night of the dance when I showed up at your house?”

“Yeah, when you needed me and Hosh to help you ask Suki?”

“Right. Well, I was actually there to ask you, but I saw Soonyoung and I couldn’t. He’s too good of a friend and you were happy. So, I lied. I actually had a dress for you to match me and this book. I wrote it for you because you were so obsessed with all those books, so it’s your own Austen novel.”

“You wrote me my own romance book?”

“Yeah, it’s outdated now, but it ended with me kissing you after the dance.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was the most thoughtful thing he’d ever given you or anyone for that matter.

“Joshua, this is so nice. Seriously, when did you even have time to do this?”

“My mom gave me the idea. You and her always watched Pride and Prejudice together, she has the same taste. So technically it’s co-written by her, but she gave me all the credit.”

“Wow. I don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Okay, then I’ll be right back. Give me like two minutes, don’t move.”

You peeled yourself off of Joshua and strutted up to Alan to ask a favor before running back to your table.

Suddenly the only lighting in the room was coming from the sporting matches on the flat screens and a few neon branded signs as a song Joshua hadn’t heard in years played over the speakers, Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap.

“Joshua Hong, will you do me the pleasure of dancing with me?”

“You’re so corny.”

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me. Let it happen.”

As the song rang through the speakers, he wrapped his hands around your lower back and pulled you in tightly, swaying you to the perfect song to describe falling in love in his youth, with the only person he ever pictured by his side. His own version of a romance novel.

You pulled away slightly as the beat got faster and grabbed his hands, running around to the other patrons in the familiar bar, crushing sounds of peanut shells under your feet.

Suddenly the whole bar was dancing along with you to the sound of nostalgia, even Alan was behind the bar top swaying along and singing into a broom.

It was this charm, the charm only you had to get the entire group of people dancing along with you.

After the song ended Alan handed out a round of shots and you took back your respective seats.

“Thank you, y/n.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“You made a weird childhood dream of mine come to life, it’s stupid, but it’s the truth.”

“It’s not stupid. And you did the same for me so it was only fair, want to go?”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

“I know, but there’s somewhere else we have to go.”

“Are you okay to walk?”

“Honk, I am not the lightweight here. I should be asking you that.”

“I am not a lightweight.”

“Okay, stand up.”

“Give me one second.”

“Exactly. Come on.”

Waving goodbye to Alan and the rest of the team at the bar, you pulled a very drunk Joshua down the old streets of your hometown, until you reached the best park bench in town.

It was older than both of you and maybe even your parents, carved with names and years of all the couples who sat right here. It was your favorite spot, even as a kid.

You and Joshua have a countless number of photos together on the very wood you sat upon now, staring at the calm sight of the nearby lake.

“Remember when we ditched that weird one year reunion party to come sit here?”

“Yeah, you had a joint that some weird guy dressed as a hotdog gave you.”

“Yes, it was someone that knew Soony, not sure why but his nickname is Dino? We just sat here all night and smoked it. So, I may have gotten his contact from someone and picked up a couple.”

“Y/N you did not.”

“Yes, it’s in my purse. I’m not letting you smoke it though, you’re too drunk. So it’s just a prop, but-“

Out of your small leather bag, you pulled a perfectly rolled joint and held it up to Joshua's face.

“I thought it’d be funny to bring one, that was the first time I ever took a hit so it’s special.”

“You know most people have their first kiss on this bench, not their first joint.”

“I had my first kiss in sixth grade at a roller rink, this is more important.”

“A roller rink? What the hell.”

“Yeah, a story for another time.”

Joshua grabbed the brown wrapped object from your hand and pulled a match box from Leslie’s out of his pocket.

“For old times sake?”

“Fine, but you really need to stop talking like you're in your eighties.”

With the strike of the match and the smell of sulfur hit your nose and the flame between you ignited. A corny thought, but it was the truth.

Taking in a large inhale and holding it in your lungs before passing it off to Joshua, you sat and stared at the blue water.

“By the way, I like everything about you just so you know. I was being stupid before. I think you’re maybe the only person in the world I’ve ever trusted.”

As the flower kept passing between you, Joshua scooted closer, resting his hand on your clothed thigh awfully close to the crease of your pelvis.

“Me too. Not about myself, about you. Tonight proved to me that moving back was the right choice.”

“Wait, you're back for good? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Would that have changed tonight?”

“Yeah, I would’ve probably been in your bed by now. I was too scared to confess how I felt. But, fuck I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

Choking on the cloud of smoke in his lungs, Joshua stuck the small roach of the joint in his pocket and kissed you.

“Does that mean I can take you home?”

“I don’t fuck on the first date.”

“Classy girl, I like that.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“I love you too.”

“So when’s the second date? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, come sleep over on the couch and we can go for breakfast.”

“The couch? Like a dog?”

“ My dog sleeps in my bed.”

“Kick her out for one night, I reserved the spot first.”

“Okay, let’s go. No funny business, Honk.”

“Can we brainstorm a cuter nickname, I don’t know like Hunk?”

“No, Honk stays. Let’s go to bed.”

Holding hands and kissing at stop lights on your way, he was back and you were never letting him go again.

[fillinforlater]

On her stage

Male Reader x Kim Jennie (Quickie)

Length: 646 words

Tags: Daddy kink, standing sex, heavy squirting, creampie, ass fingering, degradation, self degradation, bimbo kink, idol as sex toy

TW: UNEDITED QUICKIE, degradation and heavy language

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies you mad man. These GIFS have finally broken me.

(A/N: Pure BFH. No quality control, wrote it in 15 minutes. This is set at some random time in the "On her" Universe, same OC. This is all fiction. Enjoy kek)

"Hi Daddy. I didn't know you were—huh?"

No words. The second you see Jennie, you wrap your arms around her waist and carry her away. Onto the empty stage in the empty arena. Tomorrow, they will have a concert here and tens of thousands of fans will cheer. But as of now, it's just the two of you. Perfect.

"My favorite bimbo bitch. Pull that pathetic skirt down."

"Of course, Daddy. Jeez, after such a long time, you don't even say hi."

"Do I need to say hi?"

"Of course not, Daddy."

Jennies does as instructed. In the meantime you remove the joke of a leather jacket from her shoulders. Nothing but a bra beneath.

"You're gonna perform in that?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Fuck, you are so stupid, " you growl and press your hand on her throat. Jennie backs off into you, her ass nestling your diamond erection. She immediately begins to shake it and grind on you.

"Yes, I'm stupid, Daddy. Stupid for your cock, the only thing I want to perform for."

"Bimbo."

Tear down her safety short to her knees where they stay as restraints. Not because Jennie would run away. No, because she should feel unstable, helpless on her fragile, bound legs. She is a stupid whore who can trip when you want her to. The best way to make her trip is freeing your cock and placing it at her slick entrance.

"Always wet for me?"

"Always wet for you—ah!"

From tip to hilt in an instant. Jennie has been perfectly fitted for your cock and your cock alone. As the legendary, brattiest idol of all Time, you invested countless hours into not only training and breaking her, but to also make her your potential pet and the dumbest idol whore ever. One of your greatest creations ever. A successful, smart, superstar idol in the public eye—nothing but a sex toy for you.

"Daddy! So big!"

Your hands are at her hips as you drill her in this standing position. She is stable only in your hands.

"Do you remember when I first fucked you on a stage? You performed Boombayah ten hours later."

"Yes, Daddy! Fuck, you were so good, so big!"

"Do you also remember what I did to your slutty body back then?"

Jennies tongue has fallen out and she gasps for words as you continue to roughly pound her.

"Finger... Daddy, finger in my ass, fuck. Ah!"

Once again, you plunge a finger in her back entrance. Just pressing lightly down on it while your cock fills her over and over again is enough to make her squirt water like a fountain. The black surface of the stage get's covered in crystal clear pussy juice, something Jennie produces on command---or with a finger perfectly placed in her ass.

All of this only works when you give her a special treatment. One part of this is that one day in the year, 24 hours of nonstop fucking, overstimulation and mind-break to keep Jennie stupid, to ensure your triumph over her brattiness. It's a glorious day for which you sometimes even safe up.

Today isn't one of those days, but you still haven't fucked a slut in 12 hours, so you unload a big load into Jennie and watch as she cums again. The touch of your warm cum; Jennie is trained to squirt it out and watch it drip over her thighs, legs, safety shorts and the black stage.

"Clean up Bimbo."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"By the way, I really wanna fuck you on here again. With fans watching. Your career would be over though."

"No, Daddy, "she smiles. She still stands there on shaky legs, while collecting your cum from her thighs and placing it in her mouth, "Only then, my real career would start. As your always warm cock sleeve."

[enchi-elm]

✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

rules: post 7 sentences/a snippet of an unfinished work

I will do you one better, I will just post the whole thing as I'm not planning on taking it anywhere. Thanks, @strangegeology, for the tag!

Unbeta'd, unedited, etc. etc.

tagging @tortoisesshells, @ladysarai, @thenwhatthefukcisthis, @valerileygreen because I thiiiink you weren't tagged yet!

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

one - love

Eames comes across Arthur at the tennis court. He wants to stay back, observe the man from a distance, but Arthur spots him as soon as he’s within view. His game face doesn’t change—if he’s scowling at Eames’ appearance, Eames can’t tell. He might be hitting the ball a little harder and his opponent stumbles as he lunges, sprawling flat against the court as the ball hits the chain-link fence.

Arthur walks to his bag and grabs his towel, holding up a finger and nodding at his opponent. He wipes his face, walking over swiftly to where Eames stands.

Before Eames can make a comment about his tennis whites, or even ask what the hell Arthur is doing playing at a country club, Arthur cuts him off.

"What are you doing here? Whatever this is, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Hello to you, too. But fine, if he wants to get right to business.

“I have a job for you,” Eames says.

“I don’t work for you.”

“No, but I thought you might deign to work alongside me again. For the right price.”

Arthur gives him a wary look, then glances at his opponent, who’s subtly trying to ingest as many glucose tubes as Arthur’s brief distraction will let him.

“I’m busy,” he says, turning away.

“I’ll be at the bar,” Eames calls out, without acknowledgement from the point man.

Arthur goes back to his position, tossing his towel aside en route. His opponent wipes his mouth and gets into position to serve, already grimacing.

Eames watches Arthur return the serve as if he’s decapitating someone.

Eames knows little about tennis and can’t gauge the length of the game before Arthur shows up at the country club, racket and gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eames is deep in conversation with another patron—swindling him blind and leading him on besides—but he gives a thin smile at the younger man’s approach.

“So what do you want?” Arthur asks, and Eames can tell from no tell at all: he won his match.

“Arthur, let me introduce you to Mr. Ian Thorpe. A financier from Atlanta.”

Arthur shakes hands, just this side of civil.

“Pleasure.”

“Your friend’s been spinning me quite the yarn,” the financier says. He’s a forgettable sort of rich—the right colour suit, but the wrong cut. “He’d have me believing in the investment of a lifetime.”

“He’s a crook,” Arthur says, to a chuckle from Eames. “And a liar. But he gets results.”

The man laughs and rises. “Well, maybe I will give you a call then. I’m sure we can find a way to do business.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” Eames says, greasily, packing everything into the lift of his lips that might otherwise be transmitted in a wink. Arthur watches the man leave and takes the other chair at the table.

“He’s not worth your time,” he says.

Eames casually flashes a black leather wallet—not his. “He already has been.”

“I doubt he’ll miss the cash.”

Eames flips it open and pulls out the driver’s license, perusing it. “It’s not the cash that interests me.”

“He’s your target.”

Eames puts away the wallet. “Or maybe just a person of interest.” He focuses on Arthur, a transparent smile on his face. It could mean anything.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to recruit you. If such a thing is even possible—you must be booked well into next year.”

“What’s the job?”

“An oil man. Bit of a twisted one.”

“Let me guess. Inception?” It wouldn’t be the first offer Arthur’s had this month. It wouldn’t be the first of the week. Whoever blabbed—and Arthur has his theories—made sure that their little reverse-heist was on the lips of every extractor in the industry. Not because they’d tried—God, lots of people had tried—but because Fischer Morrow had folded within six months after Fischer Sr.’s death. Even Arthur hadn’t expected such a swift return.

Eames hums, sympathetic to Arthur’s irritation. He must be hearing a lot of it, too. “You know that the men’s world record for the 100 m dash was at a stalemate for 12 years before it was broken? All it took was one man to crack it and it got beat twice again in four years.”

Arthur pushes down the urge to correct him. It was 14 years, not 12. And it took another five years for it to get broken again. But he knows what he’s saying. For the longest time, Inception was only theory.

“Why, did someone else do it?” That would be interesting.

“A sucker born every two weeks, if the rumour mill is to be believed. Personally, I doubt it.”

“Why, ‘cause you weren’t involved?”

“I was going to say,” Eames says, lifting his glass, “because you weren’t.”

The flattery works, for one unexpected second—Arthur feels a warmth in his neck. He pulls out his water bottle and drinks deeply.

“So what is the job? Extraction? I’m not doing more than two levels. I’m not exactly keen for another one of Yusuf’s concoctions.”

“That’s a shame. I can’t get him off my phone. Says he’s never had such a willing test subject. I think he’d work for free if it meant he got another whack at you.”

“Not a chance. Why aren’t you answering my question?”

“Because I’m savouring this time together before you storm off to annihilate some other poor sod on the court.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Why would I storm off?”

“Because you’re not going to like how much you’ll want to do this.”

Arthur listens as Eames tells him the job. He gives it ten steady seconds before he stands and walks away without another word.

“I’ll be in touch!” Eames calls and Arthur gives him the finger without looking back.

[the-9th-genderfluid]

I finally got the digital ticket and bonus features of TGWDLM!

I got the digital ticket and bonus features for TGWDLM and will be putting realizations and stuff I like in this post so its gonna be a long one. A really long one. I'm sorry if this monstrosity of a post happens to cross your feed.

During the small bonus stuff:

I did not realize that the cast is truly that unhinged until the Kickstarter blooper real.

I do wish they had time to keep the clickbait/ top ten news site plot. It seems fun.

The Lipschitz name is from the landlord that was cut from the musical what? IDK what to do with this information.

The fact in the OG script, the meteor landed in a football field ( If Mariah's audition tape is to be believed) meaning the fan theory I once saw that the reason the hive mind sings is because its first victims were theater people so they were doing musical stuff so the spores thought that was how ppl acted on this planet would not work if the script had not changed that detail.

The Dracula arms becoming dabbing is great, I'm surprised but happy that it was not cut.

As a techie, the non actors dancing along in the corners is so accurate.

During the main musical stuff:

(Mostly not new things that the digital ticket version taught me, just me pointing out things I like, funny lines, etc.)

Paul and his autism face during the ted introduction scene

The small dialogue changes between the potshot on Youtube and the digital ticket are all very interesting. The first one I realized was Emma saying "please no come back." instead of "so mean." when man in a hurry says he will never buy there again.

Why does Paul look so awkward while Emma rants about her job.

Right as Lah Dee Dah Dah Day ends, you can hear a character saying "quick change quick change" as they run off stage. Cute and fun detail, I love it.

Legally required to mention the "think about the implications" scene. It is truly iconic. Are you frightened?

I feel like Emma would have a tumblr.

Kind of off topic, but they mention boardgames in the shrub scene, and specifically settlers of catan. I want to announce this is a settlers of catan hate blog, I would rather die than play it ever again. I am Paul hating musicals levels of hatred for that game. If you write anything positive about it, i will actually block you.

The entire alley/ trash can scene is amazing and I love it.

Paul constantly reeks of neurodivergent.

I may be ACAB, but god is Show Me Your Hands amazing and catchy.

Jeff struggling with props is my spirit animal, I am also chronically clumsy

As someone who was raised Christian, Ted's different denominations comment is so accurate to how some people act.

Iconic lines like kick your......head and fuck Clivesdale.

Paul and Emma's whole deep conversation about their childhoods and dreams takes place like two meters from Bill and Ted, and I always forget that because of the way it's cut but like it's funny to think about because it feels so personal, but the two guys are just... there.

Join Us (And Die) is horrifying. I feel like we need a musical where Jaime is the lead? I hear she is pretty vital to the Me and My Dick musical, I will have to watch that later I guess?

While Hidgens is pitching working boys, Ted is so invested, this is why you need to see both unedited and potshot of the musicals.

I love the references that aren't even references yet that the musical makes to NPMD and nightmare time.

I actually love the crack ship of the working boys polyamory theory.

The "should I take the chair?" "yeah and I will take the piano." bit is peak comedy.

I am not the first person to mention this at all, but Ted saying "I bleed red, white and..." *background turns blue* is so smart, bravo team Starkid.

I always cry at let it out, poor Paul.

I love the meta crowd thing the bows do, with Emma seeing the audience, even if its a repeat from Trail to Oregon, it's still good.

As a techie, I want to do lighting for TGWDLM sooo bad.

It's 2 am right now, and I have to decide if I finish this post tonight by watching the commentary video and editing the spelling errors, or if I decide not to fuck up my sleep schedule.

I decided not to completely fuck my sleep shedule, so it sadly took me a couple days.

The commentary video:

I actually don't have many comments after seeing the commentary video, but the things I do mention are long rants, mostly my own similar stories from the high school musical I did tech for.

Lauren hiding from her performance with a eye mask and earbuds is a mix of sad and funny. I hope she has more confidence now, because she is absolutely amazing.

Robert had tonsillitis?! God being sick while doing a musical sucks, half our cast and me had a cold or something for the show. I was right next to the camera because of the location of the tech booth, and so in the recording you hear me trying not to cough and failing for most of the show. I felt so bad.

People saying stuff about Melissa and obnoxious teen/hot chocolate boy surviving as a joke has me thinking thoughts because the actor that played Melissa played Steph, and hot chocolate boy ended up being Pete. IDK what thoughts I'm having, but I'm having them.

Jaime making props, without being asked, is so nice of her.

Omg, Jeff was sick too! That really sucks. The closest thing to a actually accident that would make us end the show was when we had a stage fall turning into a real fall because the actor was too dramatic. Damn theater kids!

Omg the megaphone stories are giving me flashback to the fucking piece of shit mics we had. Half of them would not actually work, one had to be constantly re adjusted and turned back on, the main girl's mic had way too much feedback, the other girl sang way too quiet and had a not great mic meaning you could never hear her, and for one performance, two of the actors somehow got mics mixed up and I had to spend so long switching channels to fix it. No one actually knows how it happened. I literally made jokes that someone must have walked the mic boxes under a ladder, opened a umbrella inside, and said Macbeth around them for how much of a pain they were.

Jeff despising the brain prop is great. Sometimes a prop is a stupid nightmare that you want to light on fire at the end.

What was Jeff doing to forget the main character's name? How did he land on Steve? He literally wrote some of the songs? I have so many questions.

Them not having the meteor prop until the opening day is terrifying to me, I would cry if that happened to me.

I want to reiterate my want to do tech, specifically lighting for this musical.

Ok that's all I have to say, I am going to go watch the musical again, bye babes, boys, and boomerangs

[writingquestionsanswered]

I have a question about publishing, especially in the YA or New Adult genre. Friends and I read a book series recently where the books after the 1st were kinda sloppily written, and I saw that each book was published a year after the other. It happened again on this other book series I'm reading. And it made me wonder if the problem behind this is that some authors HAVE to publish once a year and can't devote time to editing as they otherwise would. (I'm really not saying this to be mean btw)

Subsequent Books in Series Seem Sloppy

I would be curious to know whether these books are self-published or traditionally published. It matters, so I'll answer for both.

In the Case of Self-Published Books - When you self-publish, the only publishing timeline you have to meet is your own, so you wouldn't have a situation where the author "has" to publish once every year and can't devote time to editing. There are a lot of opinions as to how often self-published authors should publish, and since it's common for traditionally published authors to publish every year or so, it's common for self-published authors to aspire to a similar timeline. However, that shouldn't preclude a self-published author from doing the necessary self-editing and/or hiring a professional editor. The truth is, many self-published authors publish two or three books per year or more, and their books are still well-edited.

Having said that... the harsh reality of self-publishing is a lot of people go into it hoping they're going to have the next big TikTok sensation, so they invest thousands of dollars into their book for editing, cover design, interior design, formatting, promotional materials, and more. Then, the book doesn't sell as well as they'd hoped and they don't make back the money they invested. They may find themselves in a situation where they simply can't afford to hire a professional editor for the second and third book, but they put them out to complete the series and in hopes of making back some of the money they lost on book one.

In the Case of Traditionally Published Books - When you traditionally publish, you do have a timeline set by the publisher, but it's unlikely a publisher would put out an unedited or poorly edited book just to stick with a publishing timeline. Also, traditional publishing houses have in-house editors, so it's not like the author is editing completely on their own. Obviously they do self-edits, and they make the necessary edits suggested by the editor, but it's not like the author would come up against their deadline, turn in the unedited draft, and that goes straight to print.

Having said that... I do think it's worth noting that many readers and industry experts feel there has been a substantial decline in the editing quality of traditionally published books over the years. I'm definitely in the camp of people who've noticed this trend, and I subscribe to the theory that it's just another sad check mark in the column of unbridled capitalism. Publishers aren't putting out books because they love the written word or because they want to encourage literacy... they publish books because they want to make a profit, and like any business, they want to make the biggest profit possible. In today's constantly shifting landscape--where self-publishers are putting out million-dollar best sellers, and where TikTok can launch a book so far into the stratosphere that books two and three could be moldy copies of a 1970s phone book and they'd still sell a million copies--traditional publishers are cutting corners where they feasibly can in order to maximize profit, and those cut corners usually impact product quality.

Fortunately, there are still loads and loads of well-edited, high quality traditionally and self-published books hitting the market every year, so while you may find sloppy subsequent books in a series more often now than you used to, hopefully you'll still find more well-edited books than not. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[vengefulvermin]

Can i get more passage of time/music development yapping ☹️☹️☹️??? I give you official permission to yap the most you can im so interested

YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ASK

warning beneath the cut SCARY WALL OF TEXT WARNING 😱

decided to divide it into colored parts if you dont gaf about certain elements 😭

second warning all of this is unedited rambling so some points might contradict each other or just plain not make sense.

okay so for CONTEXTTTTT

i have diagnosed OCD, and like, roughly since the end of last year and the beginning of this one, the 'obsession' part of OCD that was negatively affecting me, was the concept of time. how fleeting it was. how it's basically unescapable ALL THINGS MUST PASS (get out of my head george harrison) that shit proper cold dead SCARED ME MAN. sleepless & haunting me in my dreams type shi. sometimes it still does. i try not to think about it too much

to cope, i found great comfort in the 70s-80s since at the time i was and still am hyperfixated on david bowie and that was sort of his prime (love his 90s-00s work tho.) i was also starting to think of how much parallels and similar experiences i have to previous generations and how it's not ALL that bad after all so far. i can still walk to a record store and roller skate if i really wanted to, or go to a diner.

okey here's where the life changing stuff happens. i decided i'd listen to pink floyd's the dark side of the moon. then TIME CAME ON. ohhhh god oh gosh golly god i was bawling and everything the whole song spoke to me on a molecular level. then i found out about DB's song also called time, and i ALSO crode to that. i was like. wow. i'm not alone on this feeling of utter desperation and helplessness as eventually all things Must Pass. (GEORGE HARRSION GTFO)

i used to be bitchy on how i whined i was part of the 'wrong generation.' i thought i was alone, but virtually everyone of almost every era has thought this. somebody who lived my dream life wished they had what i have now.

that's when i started to lowkey realize the parallels and oneness of human experience. i could go to a club in the 70s, and (granted the infrastructure and music remains similar) i could today. nothing would change on how i perceive events. there is no color filter on the past. unless you got huge TVs and stuff all over your house, you could walk around, and think it's the 80s. AND IT'S BASICALLY THE 80s. the way your parents or any other gen Xer saw the world with their *eyes* (not counting the changes in buildings and stuff) is the same as you today pretty much.

i already really enjoy subcultures, and particularly how they evolve and adapt. the indomitable human spirit prevails no matter how gentrified or 'banned' things become. nowadays i feel like there is No Youth Subcultures. at least, none that will pass the test of time and be memorable enough to be remembered in the books. nobody's gonna go to their child and proudly say: "when i was your age, i was a chav" or something. and i credit this to the lack of creativity allowed in the wider music industry.

HEAR ME OUT this is because 90% of youth subcultures had everything to do with music. and now, everything must be palatable. to be clear there's nothing inherently wrong with that type of music, but to me it speaks no soul. it has no risks. contemporary pop music is very much formulaic and this is because now more than ever entertainment (this also applies to movies btw) is more of an investment than passion. I WILL SPECIFY.

music production is so vastly different genre to genre, and we're not letting it flourish because of how much short form content is valued nowadays. LET ME COOK.

tiktoks are formulaic. algorithms are formulaic. WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. there must be an instant hook or rift in music if you want to 'go viral' as a musician. digitized fame doesn't mean SHIT (to me), since clearly monthly listeners don't equate real world fans. album sales are being replaced with streams, and because of how ASS spotify treats its artists, newer, less established acts need to GET ON THE GRIND INSTANTLY to earn Coin. that means that to be smart and work with the exploitative system they're given, they have to make albums filled with 1 minute 30 second songs. so you can technically give them the most amount of streams possible. i feel with this formulaic approach, you can't get 6 minute long gutwrenching guitar pieces. no more 4 minute drum solos, hell avant garde experimental works were 2 people shout their names out at each other for 20 minutes. THERE ARE NO MORE FRANK ZAPPAS.

i'm not going to be one of those sad assholes who claim there's 'no more good rock music' and how it'll never be the same. as corny as this is, the next beatles or nirvana could be right under our noses and we'll NEVER know because of how fame is distributed. it sucks to see a small band beg on tiktok for streams to kickstart their career. but this is what we gotta work with. if we want subcultures to be created and thrive, we gotta go looking underground again, except unlike in the past it's a kajillion times easier now AND everything gets gentrified in 2 tiktok weeks. but this is evolution. MUSIC EVOLUTION

the end honk shoo honk shoo (it's midnight)

[killalluchihas]

Hi I'm here to post the unedited scraps of gv/bj that may or may not be canon to my fanfic. If you're still waiting for new chapters to be posted maybe you'll appreciate this glimpse?

February 2006

Queens, New York

[11 AM EST]

Light presses against his eyelids, abrupt and unwelcome. An unpleasantly cheerful bell echoes around him as a flight attendant announces their arrival, like it wasn’t obvious when the plane landed on the tarmac.

Fushiguro Toji rolls his neck, stiff from sitting for so long. This is the longest flight he’s ever had to take, and fuck if he isn’t glad his employer splurged on a first-class ticket. Something about protecting investments this time around.

Still, he’s groggy and bitter as he drags himself out of the airport and into the busy streets of New York. Jet-lag’s a bitch.

Trying to stay awake, he chugs two cups of black coffee and showers in the crappy bathroom of his crappy apartment. His employer didn’t splurge on it, claiming he’ll need a low profile and plenty of time to complete this assignment.

New York’s sorcerers are a cautious, vigilant bunch—they’re notoriously reclusive and keep tabs on sorcerers moving in and out of the city. Funny, it’s almost like they have something to hide.

Toji stretches again as he pulls on a clean t-shirt. Then he mutters some curses at the unchanging thermostat and pulls on a sweater, because winter in New York is cold as fuck. Just because he's thick-skinned enough to not die from the cold doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He switches on the television, barely listening as some newscaster drones on about traffic reports. He’s not fluent in English, in fact he’s pretty terrible at speaking it, so the television’s just white noise to him as he sorts through his belongings.

There’s a fair amount of searching to do, and it’s past midday already so Toji reluctantly forgoes a nap. He doesn’t actually know who his target is, only their date of birth and the hospital they were born in. His employer narrowed it down further to just the families still living in Queens, but Toji has to go through twenty-odd children with the potential to be this special chosen one or whatever.

He picks through the files very briefly. There’s no indication that any kid is more promising than the next, so he looks at a map of the area and chooses the candidate that lives closest to where he is. He slings his bag over one shoulder, and heads out to begin the search.

The door swings shut behind him.

In the empty room, the television keeps playing, volume low. The news moves onto the weather forecast. The weatherman gestures in broad strokes, pointing to a swirling storm mass heading towards the east coast.

—/—/—

Today is Saturday, kids don’t have school, and it’s too fucking cold to do anything but stay home, so Toji expects to find the girl in her house. The Americans don’t guard the kid, after all. Why would they? Even if they’ve identified the source of cursed energy, they don’t know why the kid is important. Hell, even Toji doesn’t totally get it. Something about vessels and barriers. He's just been paid a lot of money to bring back the target in one piece, which is a strange request to make of a mercenary, but he really couldn't say no to that many zeroes.

The only wild card in this situation is the fortuneteller. There’s a line of seers that’s worked with the New York council in the past, and they’re responsible for tracking sorcery anomalies through the five boroughs.

Fortunately, there’s only one true seer left in that family now. A weak one at that. And Toji isn’t a sorcerer.

The girl’s apartment is at the end of this block. The weather’s kept most people off the streets, but not all of them. There’s two dog walkers, plus a man walking in and out of a building to put old furniture to the curb. No one to look at him twice as he nears the apartment complex.

The lobby door has a lock on it, and there’s a series of doorbells and apartment addresses listed on the wall. Apartment 204-C is listed, though the part where the surname should be written, it actually says Segura instead of Ariyoshi. But Toji is sure this is the right building. And, after taking a proper look at the seemingly-locked door… he pulls at the handle, and it swings outward without protest.

His boots land on the linoleum floor, ignoring the litter of crumpled papers and discarded junk mail. There’s a bunch of mailboxes on the left side of the cramped hallway, while the right side holds a cork board full of posters and notices.

Just as Toji has the idle, almost-pleasant thought that This is kinda easy, several things happen all at once:

His eyes are drawn to the cork board. A little blue origami dragon is pinned to it, and something is off about it.

He steps over a scrap of inked rice paper taped to the floor.

A boundary is broken, and the sharp tang of cursed energy stings his tongue.

Toji mutters a quiet "Fuck," under his breath.

And a winged creature bursts out of the wall, coiling and writhing in the too-narrow hall before it opens its enormous maw and lunges at him.

[pianocat939]

Yandere Kasha

Okay another character for my slowly developing off-brand monster's university. So this one is a Japanese myth and I'm planning add another one (the next one will be our first madame woohoo). I've found a ginormous list on Wikipedia, which will let me find more obscure myths from other places so yay. (You don't know how helpful Wikipedia is for like obscure myths)

A kasha is a flaming cat-like demon that brings recent corpses of bad people to hell. Specifically, people who haven't been buried yet and have done wrong deeds. I was thinking this is a good one just because it's one I personally have never heard about and it sounds like- very fitting for the Yandere genre. Oh right, one thing, Kasha means Fire-Chariot. Ka means fire in the Chinese derivative and Sha means like automobile or just cart in the Chinese derivative. (I would put the characters down but I don't have the Japanese keyboard added on my laptop)

Tw: Murder, implied possessiveness, cremation of corpse (not very detailed) UNEDITED

Satsuto wasn't the smartest, a B student on average, but he was the one that could make anyone laugh or have fun. He's been your best friend since middle school, when both of you loved your cringe things. He followed you to university, managing to get accepted into the same school through his extracurriculars.

As soon as he arrived, he made at least 15 friends. He was chatty, but could easily balance himself and others well. He still talked to you often though. He would blabber about his days, and how boring his classes are. Why he chose to be a political science major? You have no fucking idea. If anything, he should have become a major in the art of clowning.

Whenever you mentioned someone you didn't particularly like he became very invested in the conversation. He asked about every single detail you could say about the person while staring at you with his flaming orange eyes.

You often had to tell him to not get too excited or mad about your stories because the flames coming from his body could possibly burn his fire-resistant clothes. He would always laugh and brush it off.

Whenever you put on sunscreen, he would be absolutely horrid to you, and try to hug you. Always saying the same phrase, "Aren't I as hot as the Sun?" Your sunscreen never lasted for long. Somehow, it didn't burn or hurt when his flames touched you. He had to be careful about clothes though.

One night, you were walking back from the library after doing a big study grind for a few hours. You noticed something far off in the recreational parks of the campus. It was an orange light. You curiously followed it. You found yourself in a field. You saw someone burning something in a dirt pit. Isn't that super hazardous? You didn't want to be intrusive, but literally the entire campus could possibly burn down.

You approach the person from behind, stepping closer cautiously. Until you notice the familiar flaming body. At first, it looked like their body just blended in with the fire, but their body was covered in the same flames. Could it be Satsuto?

"Satsuto?" You call out, the flames providing an almost overbearing heat.

The person turns around, and turns out it is in fact Satsuto. He grins, sunglasses covering his eyes. "Hi! I'm just burning something."

"Isn't that bad for the environment? Dangerous too?" You question, as you stand beside him. Together, you watch the fire as the last of the item crumpled away into ashes.

"Heh, yeah it is. But I can't dispose of it any other way." He takes his hand, adjusting the wood that fueled the fire. One of the advantages of being covered in flames is the fact you can tolerate flames in any way possible. Too bad that wasn't you, that was Satsuto's ability.

You now notice the odd smell. The smell was faint now overcome with the smell of smoke. Yet the small tinge of bitterness was still there. You make a slightly disgusted face.

Guys I have basically no sense of smell help- how tf do you describe smell-

"What are you burning? It smells kinda nasty..." You mumble, still boring your eyes into the fire. You cough a bit, the odor now more vivid in your mind.

"What the skibidi rizz? It doesn't smell that bad..." When he noticed you were coughing, he slung arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer. "Hey, hey, you actually struggling?"

You nod, using your sleeve to cover some of your mouth and nose. You glance around and notice a rock a few meters away from the fire, and sit on it. The jagged surface is freezing.

Satsuto watches you as you distance yourself from the blaze. He walks over and joins you on the rock. He puts the hood of your coat up. "I'll tell you what it is if you share something with me."

"Like what?" You ask, stuffing your hands into your pockets. It's warm but cold in the same coexistence.

"Do you like anybody? Like...interested in?" He gazes at your face, kicking his feet back and forth like a child. His playfulness remained the same.

"Not really? We've only been here for like a couple of months so..." You trail off, trying to think of anybody you had a brief interest in.

Satsuto interuppts your thinking, "Really? Guess I burned that guy from your calculus class for nothing." He huffs, making a slight frown. The flames on his body grow taller and grander.

You pause. Every thought in your head stops. The chilling wind or the warmth coming from his blazing body stops. The odour overwhelms your senses. It makes sense why it smells so repulsive. You turn rigidly to him.

"What?"

He hums in question, raising a brow. "Oh you know what's his name...Like Orange Garfield? I thought you liked him since you were talking to him so much. I kinda just burned his lungs out."

"Y-You-"

He interrupts you again, "I mean, all bad guys go to hell right? Well, making uncalled moves is a bad deed in my book man." He grips your shoulder tighter.

"Some chariots go down low."

——————————————————

Welllllll I got my first piece out in a while! I think it's better than my usual works, I think? But also I'm kinda not as good as I was prior due to being on break for so long.

I had lore for why I picked his name but I forgot the second character I was thinking about so that'll be for another time. So now we have 3 characters? I think I'll make another 7 before I start taking requests for this specifically.

Also, about skibidi rizz, he absolutely says that kinda shit.

- Celina

[bellaxgiornata]

Below the cut is an unedited and very rough excerpt from chapter one of yet another side project I'm currently working on. It is a Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader story where Reader can travel the multiverse and is being hunted because of that ability. It is tentatively titled Keep Coming Back to You. There's also a world of intelligent zombies Reader gets pulled into whenever she really panics which she calls Nightmare 1. In the story, she starts out meeting college Matt and Foggy but because of her ability and her need to hide, she obviously disappears often. So she eventually meets a slightly older Matt (season 1?) as time passes. And this story will be an angsty slowburn after some initial romance (all thanks to you Elektra).

This is a very, very rough concept I'm still working on which will also probably involve Doctor Strange at some point.  And I'm going to say it's 18+ for some smut (because we all know I write smut) and violence/gore (I mean...there's zombies). Just curious who is even interested before I invest too much time in this one.

Anyway, below the cut is a raw snippet from the middle of chapter one!

_________

"You can't hide forever, girl," they called out again. 

You tried to ignore them, your eyes searching for the thread that you had always felt a slight draw towards, though lately it was getting harder and harder to find through the multitudes of universes. Home–that thread meant Home to you. Or at least lately it had become something like Home. You figured you’d jump there and then quickly find somewhere else to jump to lose them for good for a while.

"The others couldn't hide from me either," they told you, their voice closer. 

Their words caused you to pause, momentarily distracted as the threads glittered before you, varying shades of colors and lights softly reflecting along your jeans. 

"You’re not the only one, Serena," they continued, smug satisfaction in their tone. "And I know that's not your real name, girl."

Your head snapped to your left. They were standing at the bottom of the playset’s slide now, staring right at you through the dark with a menacing smile. The teeth of the young man they were currently possessing flashed at you like a warning. A terrified shiver ran down your spine at the sight.

"I always get them eventually," they called up to you. "Just like I'll get you."

Ice cold fear shot its way through your veins. Before you could control it, something was tugging sharply at your body. That horrifyingly familiar feel of cold hands gripping your shoulders and yanking you forcefully backwards hit you hard. 

And then you were falling. 

Your stomach felt like it was flying up into your throat, your organs shifting and squeezing unpleasantly inside of you as you were pulled–the second worst possible thing that could have happened to you in that moment. 

Just as fast as it had started the sensation stopped. You landed hard on your knees along cracked pavement, wincing in pain at the rough drop. Your hands instinctively flew forward, scratching roughly along the broken cement as you tried to steady yourself on all fours. Panting hard, you looked up and surveyed your surroundings while hoping against all hope you weren’t where you thought you were. But your heart fell to the demolished road beside you the moment you took in the sight of the plant life overtaking the decrepit houses around you. Eyes closing, you tried to fight back the sting of tears.

Not here again. 

A fresh wave of panic rolled through you as you quickly and quietly rose to your feet. It had been awhile since you’d been to this world, but you remembered exactly what you needed to do. You needed to be silent. You needed to remain calm. And you needed to get the fuck out of here as fast as you possibly could. Before one of those things found you. You just needed a second to catch your breath and scan your surroundings to make sure you were safe and alone. Then you would find a safe universe and jump again.

That's it, you told yourself. Just calm down. I'll get out of here, I always do. Just need to stay calm.

You tried to take a steady breath, keeping your eyes open while you scanned the area around you. Carefully you expelled the breath as gently as you could, your eyes taking in the sight of the apocalyptic neighborhood. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the house just in front of you, the front door entirely missing. Both houses beside it had broken windows and ivy snaking its way up the front of them. The exterior paint had long since faded and the mailboxes out front were rusted and tipped to the side. But at least you didn't see any movement. As you observed your surroundings, you kept an ear out and listened to every single noise around you. For now, the soft whistle of wind through the copse of trees nearby was thankfully all you could hear. Everything else was quiet.

Good. Silence was good here. Silence met one of those things weren't about to jump out and try to savagely rip you to shreds and eat you like you were their last meal.

Or infect you.

Fuck, I hate this place.

Cautiously you made your way through the tall grass as it brushed against your jeans, the soft swish of it hitting your ears. The overcast light from the sun sneaking through the cloud cover overhead was a sharp contrast to the dark night you'd just been running through moments ago. 

Traveling through worlds was incredibly strange. It could be broad daylight in one place, but then you could jump and end up somewhere where it was pitch black seconds later. Same with the weather–it could be springtime somewhere, with birds chirping and flowers blooming, and then another moment you were landing in three feet of freezing cold snow in a pair of shorts. 

Your concept of time was entirely fucked at this point.

Moving on the front of your feet, you tried to make as little sound as possible as you walked. It was difficult to catch your breath, trying in vain to keep your labored breathing steady and quiet after that chase you’d barely escaped. You just wanted to get your back against something solid and search the threads for a universe that felt safe to jump to. That was your focus right now.

You moved slowly, careful to be as soundless as you could and grimacing at the stains of old blood you saw splattered along the panels of the house as you walked. You crept your way gradually around to the side of the house, glad that it was windowless. Very carefully you turned, stepping backwards until your back hit the wall. At least nothing could sneak up behind you while you worked now.

With a sharp exhale through your nose you tried to focus on the space before you yet again. Gradually the threads of multiple universes appeared, shimmering in the overcast light of the day. This time there was a rush of blues and purples that came forward. You squinted, reaching two fingers tentatively out and trying to get a feel for a few threads of light. 

Maybe you needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere that they wouldn't easily think to find you. But you hated finding new worlds. You never knew what you would be walking into every time you jumped. Though usually if you trusted your instincts you would end up in a world similar to your Home. Right now that's what you needed to find.

A noise came from not too far away, cutting through the silence. You froze instantly at the sound, your fingers holding onto a thread as your eyes darted to the side. And then the jarring, guttural, screeching noise that plagued your nightmares rang out through the trees nearby. The hair along your arms instantly rose, a prickling feeling growing at the base of your skull.

Your jaw clenched, your heart rate rising again. Time was up. You needed to get out of here now. You didn't need to encounter one of those again. You had nothing to fight it with and you sure as shit wouldn't manage to outrun it. 

As the terrifying, rasping growl cut through the air around you yet again, you knew exactly what that sound meant from the time you’d spent here before. It was searching, probably having caught onto the fresh scent of the blood on your scraped hands. But before you could pull the thread of light between your fingers and jump, it disappeared. All of the colorful lights before you suddenly vanished.

"Shit," you whispered. 

That loud, rasping roar reverberated through the air again and shot another spike of fear and adrenaline through you. 

It had gotten closer. 

As you turned, trying to remain calm, you prepared to hide in the house behind you. But that’s when you heard it. Something like a high-pitched shriek in response. There was a second one. And they were communicating with each other. You knew what that sound meant.

They knew something was here.