#whooooo lets read!!!

[warcats-cat]

IT'S READING LIST TIME!!

At least, the first reading list. Hopefully there will be more. ☺️

You can find more details about the rally here! Please join us and share some more fanfics you love from smaller creators//people who need some extra love!

House of Tarot Cards @lickoutyourbrains // FlowerMeat on Ao3

Remus Crowley has fallen victim to a legion of demons, his body and soul now possessed. Though all six residents of the lonely household on Lorre way are well practiced in occult magics, only Patton Stoker had experience with exorcisms. It’s such a shame that past experience had all but destroyed his belief that he can help.

To Rebuild A Home; @a-valourous-choice

After a horrific event rips his family apart, Patton decides to move himself and his children back to his hometown. His youngest son Thomas adjusts quickly but his eldest Virgil, harboring resentment towards his father and full of self loathing, has a much more difficult time. Despite their close proximity, Patton and Virgil have never been more distant from each other but perhaps with some help from friends - both old and new - the Sanders boys will learn that recovery can be a family affair. And just maybe they're not as alone in their grief as they believe.

Starving; LadyoftheWoods (Ao3)

Patton was dying.

Not that anyone else knew it, of course, no, he didn’t want to be a hassle! The others had to deal with his drama enough as it is. They didn’t need to know.

They didn’t know.

It was a wonder, that no one else seemed able to see it, not even Janus, though part of him hoped against hope that someone would.

The other part of him prayed to god they didn’t.

He didn’t know anything anymore, much less how to fix this. How to stop it.

He just knew he ached.

His chest, his heart, ached, like it was cracking in two. Maybe it was, figures of speech sometimes got taken a little too literally by Thomas's head, who’s to say heartbreak wasn’t one of them?

Not him. He’d done enough talking, when he didn’t even know what he was saying, to begin with.

If We're Still Single In An Hour; @fangirltothefullest

Roman and Patton are probably the two most oblivious people in the entire town, or at least that's what everyone around them thinks. The two have been pining after each other for an eternity, but neither of them have realized. At Virgil and Logan's wedding, the two forget to bring the cake for the after party and have to go fetch it. Fate Herself takes one look at these oblivious gays and decides to take matters into her own hands. After all, they're made for each other, and they're the only ones that haven't figured that out yet.

Or: The Royality Shenanigans fic based off of a tumblr text post where they're both in love and deserve each other so badly but are too silly to see it.

Where the Lovestruck Bleeds; @fangirltothefullest

Mr. Remus Princeton, soul of a dark poet and heart shielded with years of sorrow, had lost so much in his common man's life. What little he had, he gave so that his brother could flourish. But for the first time in his life, Remus wanted something that society said he must never have: Deep dark eyes and hair as black as the depths of the sea and uncommonly long, Mr. Logan Blackthorne enthralled him with his mystery and allure the moment he laid eyes upon him at the gathering he was attending for the sake of this brother. How could a man of such standing see him in a sea of better prospects and willingly pursue him?

Mr. Roman Princeton on the other hand, could light up a room just by flouncing into it. He was a delight and all manner of young ladies swooned for him and pined after the artist's affections. But his world was turned asunder when the notable Monsieur Janus D'Ambroise took a shine to his talents. Surely his life and Remus' were about to change drastically and all for the better. They were moving up in the world and right into the mystery and delights of romance and decadence he had long since dreamed of!

Why then, was Remus so disinclined to follow?

Taking Flight; @practically-an-x-man

(Non-TS but so good please read it!!!!)

Fandom: Fablehaven

American kestrel: Falco sparverius, also known as the sparrow hawk, grasshopper hawk, or killy hawk. A species of small, carnivorous falcon native to the Americas. Kestrels are incredibly effective and aggressive hunters despite their small size. They are largely solitary birds, though they form strong pair-bonds and often mate for life. Their widely varied diet and adaptable nesting conditions make them well-suited to a variety of habitats. But this story is not about kestrels.

My Stuff Because I'm Running It Solo And I Can Do What I Want:

The Long Road Home

Ship: LAMP Some say childhood friendships don't last. Others say they're forever. For Patton Bunker, they're life-saving. Virgil Wraith is happy enough to leave his past behind him; left forgotten like the scared little orphan he used to be. He's happy now; he has a steady job (sort of), two loving boyfriends, and he gets to travel as much as he wants. Being a consort to Prince Roman has good perks. But he remembers the injustices he saw. And when he sees his past haunting him from the horizon, he doesn't hesitate. This time, he can stop the pain.

Talking, Whether You Want To Or Not

Ship: Loceit Roman and Remus have plans to help their friends finally talk about their feelings. Remus does not follow the plan.

Crumbling

Being a good friend is hard. Its scary. It takes a lot of work. Patton often felt himself trying desperately to balance the line between doting dad-friend and clingy nuisance. It didn't help that there was an extra voice in his head these days, pointing out all the ways he had already failed. And then he finally pushed another friend too far. His smile was starting to shatter at the edges.

[97-liners]

genuine question: what are your thoughts on first person pov? just in general, doesn't have to be idol x reader. personally, i think writing a whole book in first person is very tricky and requires some proper talent but when it's just short musings of a character, it can be quite fun. one of my own best fics is written in first person, and in context of the original work i like it but every time i encounter some sort of discourse, i feel embarrassed to have used that method.

anon…. i think you gotta hang out less among fanfiction circles and more w people who read books 😭 if you just step a half a foot away from fanfiction, you’d see that first person pov is a long and celebrated narrative mode.

moby dick, jane eyre, the sherlock holmes novels, etc etc there are so many foundational works of english literature that use first person POV going back hundreds of years. the book thief and the lovely bones are two notable examples of modern lit that use an extracorporeal first person omniscient pov. faulkner’s the sound and the fury features multiple first person narratives that provide different accounts of the same story.

like, you could spend years reading articles and writing books about this. there is a whole world outside of shitty fanfiction. “call me ishmael” “reader, i married him” we have been doing this for hundreds of years !! for english-speaking school children, soooo many of our first forays into creative writing took the form of first-person narratives— just look back to your elementary school writing endeavors. it’s common and well-accepted, and it’s an accessible way for children to begin experimenting with the world of a character rather than just the structure of a plot.

whatever the discourse that makes you embarrassed is, just know that you’re better than them and you don’t have to listen to the writing advice of people who slept through english class and think the curtains were just blue.

[cherrygarden]

,

[evil-youth-messrs]

Moments in EPIC that make me go feral Circe Saga version let's gooo. You can check out previous sagas here and the following here👈.

The Circe Saga 🐷

*cello starts playing* ~Eurylochus~ back so soon?

we came across~ a palace, inside we heard a vooooice

SIR since welefthomewe'vefacedavarietyoffoes fromawiderangeofplaces

what was it? a woman 👁👄👁 wut?

(also shout out to all the previous "whats" from the ocean saga, we stan a confused king)

come inside -damn- welcome to the best part of your lives

no I'm not a player I'm a puppeteer☝️, no I don't play I puppeteer yeah

*Hermes's giggles>>>>*

someone who's not afraid to... send a message 😘🪽

Hermes??? 😲😲😲

she can conjure up a MONster that'll grind you to the bones, she has all the ways to HAUnt ya

wouldn't you like to have some of the magic? wouldn't you like your outcome preferred? deep in the night, the fight can be tragic, I'll help you conquer her ✨️🕺🪩 (with the added harmonies in the second chorus)

you must consume and digest it then you'll manifest

and I call this root holy 💅 moly 💅 (*Odysseus's aah 🤔*) HAHAHHAHAHHA

🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺

Hermes :D thank you don't thank me friend, you very well may die 😃😃 ~good luck~ ✨️

*the carmen motif* 🤌

laadyy~ of the palace sorry that I ask this

you turned them into pigs... huh :P 🐷🐷🪄

you must be a liar mortals can't acquire moly without DIRE consequence

Hermes gave it to you, didn't he? 🙄

you and I are now evenly matched

now there is no turning back!

NOT EVEN A SPELL SAVES YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE DONE FOR

🎻🎻🎻🎻

wooooooahhhh whooooo's to say with all the mistakes I've made

I'm juuuust a maaaaan forgiveee meeeee I CAN'T *Penelope's theme*

she's my everything, my ~Penelope~ 🫶

ughh... Poseidon, eh?

I know of a brilliant prophet 🤩 problem is this prophet is dead 😬 *piano equivalent of the 💀 emoji*

*reversed vocals in the background when Circe talks about the underworld*

or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer. MOOOOOooOoOOOoooREEE

A lot of emojis for this one, I gotta say I really love it, especially Hermes 💚.

Again, thank you for reading.

[studentbyday]

week 3: let's get this bread! (famous last words...)

Omg I can't believe it's only week 3, sm has happened, I swear more time has gone by than actually has 😅😮‍💨🙃 Starting this week feeling a little discouraged because I still have a backlog of schoolwork to catch up on, but let's see if I can get my hopes up again by the end of this week! 🙏🏻🤞🏻If I want to achieve my goals, I need to drastically reduce my screen time. Here's to only using my phone for essential communications and for music, guided meditations, and pilates/yoga videos this week! 😤

mid-week update: this week has been a f*cking mess. mentally, emotionally, physically, existentially. i have not touched the db course so far which was my main goal for this week...every week i'm trying to add something new. i had my reservations about keeping on my original plan for this week, knowing i ended the last one still behind on school, but i went ahead with it, wondering, hoping if it was at all possible. well. we'll see where i'm at by the end of this week. at the very least i'll be closer to caught up.

end-of-week update: posting this early so i don't have to on sunday. i'm making progress but it's still slower than expected. insomnia is a problem. my nerves feel pretty frayed. must find ways to decrease the stimulation. time to reinstate the no-phone mornings (probs should add to my “bingo”) and a social media detox... not sure if i'll have time to post again next week. i find it hard to keep up. i'll probably come back if/when i get things under control...so bye for now (and i sincerely hope your semester is going better than mine 💗) 👋🏻

Academics:

Check and send pathology assignment!!!! ✅

Confirm immunology discussion due date!! ✅

Watch documentary on Wangari Maathai ✅ (glad i did this first thing on monday after sending the path assignment because it was really inspiring and lifted my spirits enough to keep going 💗)

Meet for pathology assignment ✅ (2 members in my group are like...really high-energy and gung-ho. i'm glad cuz that means it's a lighter load for me but woah was that overwhelming at first 😅 and the thing is...these guys aren't the first i've encountered like this. and i'm low-key jealous of them... they're the kind of people who give off the aura of “i'm capable of doing it all” because they're that driven...and based on what i've seen of them, i don't think they're faking it.)

Read all assignment descriptions for global health before you... ✅

Email chosen essay topic to TA by Thursday ✅

Finish M1 pathology by Wednesday ✅

Complete pathology M1 case questions

Finish half of M2 pathology by Sunday

Start pathology M2 case questions

Finish half of M2 global health by Friday ✅

Finish half of M3 immunology by Sunday

Finish M2 microbiology ~ (made some progress but not finished)

Start M3 microbiology

Participate in global health meeting ✅ (wasn't bad but also...not sure when this happened but i've gotten quite nervous speaking up in class and then in my overstimulation, forget some of what i had intended to say, ughhh just gotta keep practicing...)

Complete immunology discussion ✅

Send other pathology assignment ✅

Complete global health discussion ✅

Health:

Meditate x1

Journal x3

Yoga x2

Cardio x1

Pilates x1 (the first time i made it through a 30 min class in one sitting whooooo!!!!!)

Other life things:

Change bedding

Laundry

Music in My Head:

andante spianato et grande polonaise brillante

study music // 1 // 2 // 3

a strange playlist for strange people

piano trio no. 4 in e minor, op. 90, b. 166, “dumky��: i. lento maestoso / ii. poco adagio

pavane op. 50

Things I'm looking forward to:

end of the semester

the height of autumn

christmas

My not-bingo bingo (thinking I'll recycle this every month lol):

[linddzz]

Whooooo! I found ya! Down to business:

Are there any fic recommendations for baggin/shield or pitch/frost that you like(d)?

I am absolutely feral

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand…..

What are 3 of your most favorite fics that you’ve ever read?

Ya found me! Let me say that the notifications of someone going through old fics and commenting are ambrosia. You are a treasure and a saint of a person!

And oh man I had to dive into my old bookmarks for these! I'm good at remembering snippets or vibes of fics but not the fics themselves. I will warn that a lot of my fave pitch/jack stuff tended to be pretty dark. It's not like, a thing I regret or say is wrong, and I still enjoy/love a lot of it! I was in a dark place mentally and that reflected in the stuff I was reading and creating. Who actually has a good time in their early to mid 20s?

Mostly warning because most of my stuff since then skirts the edges or flirts with the darkness but doesn't feel that need to go deep diving.

Second warning is there may be less here than you'd think! The more I write for a ship the less I read, because my brain gets very dumb and the self doubt gets Real Bad. This is all non-exhaustive of course! I wouldn't even say this is my Best of The Best it's just what's coming to mind at the moment. There's way more in the AO3 bookmarks

Pitch/Jack fics

In the Dark - series by @charmed7293 romancing the monster under the bed is maybe not always the best idea

The Syntax of Programming Languages, and, Why Some Code Talks in Accents - by Midievil. I'm biased here bc this was a gift fic inspired by my The Device Has Been Modified, but it done showed me up bc it was written by someone who knows more about actual coding than me

Shadows and Light - this series by @not-poignant is The Classic of the ship. Since you liked Things That Were you'd most definitely like this one. And unlike me, Pia actually finishes things!

I swear to God there were a lot of fics by @insufferablearchanist that I loved but they nuked their old AO3 and I can't ever remember shit.

Thorin/Bilbo fics

Prayers to Broken Stone - @avelera the beauty and the beast flavored au you didn't know you wanted

Comfort in the Sound - by northerntrash. Ok. Yes. It's Bilbo/Thorin/Bofur but like. Trust me on this. Road trip throuple shenanigans

Patchwork Robe - @hallsofstone2941 I am not immune to stupidly adorable modern college au one-shots

Possession - aljira. You liked Sanzigil, you'll like this :)

Marriage in the Manner of Dwarves - series by diemarysues

Other Fandom Faves (that come to mind. I've been reading fanfic since like 2002 ok there's a lot that has made impressions over the years that I just lost track of dkdjdk)

Taking Everyone For A Ride - by Nonymos. Venom/Eddy+Anne/Dan. typical Eldritch shenanigans plus polyamory. Unhinged and weird, just how I like em

The Only Way Out Is Down - @avelera Newt/Hermann. The second PR movie was so bad I wanna erase it from my memory but my god did it spawn some AMAZING fics, including this one that rewired my brain

After Zero - by what_alchemy Newt/Hermann. A bunch of delightful smut

The Wine Dark Sea - @moorishflower Dream/Hob. Siren! Dream au. Jesus Christ. Holy fuck. Goddamn. Gorgeous, monstrous, surreal, Unhinged4Unhinged behavior. Listen. I work with octopuses. I know what their arms feel like and that has ruined almost all tentacle shenanigans for me ok?? This fic got past that hangup.

If I Please You - @moorishflower Dream/Hob. It feels like a modern retelling of an old medieval fairy romance goddamn

And finally. This series. The series.

So. I very recently refound this series and I'm almost hesitant to post it. Because as I was reading it again I kept having to put it down and sit in horror at the realization that I read this fic when I was in college and it actually rewired my brain. I realized everything I have written was trying to recapture what this fic did to my synapses. I was chasing after vibes that I did not realize originated in this fic for me. Me sharing this risks everyone who reads it and has read my stuff also going "ooohhhh you're just doing this again huh?"

It is the very specific combination of "Character A: openly unhinged, obsessive, violently romantic and unnerving/Character B: seems so chill and just happily rolls with CharacterA being insane, because they are also secretly insane." It's the combo of a codependent bonkers relationship with humorous banality of their day-to-day.

It's also a Johnlock fic.

Anyway, The Paradox Series rewired my brain so deeply that I didn't even realize it rewired my brain until over a decade later. I swear I have been unaware of how much my writing has been leaning on what this did to my brain.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

~~~~~~~~

You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around. 

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already - 

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly. 

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile. 

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud. 

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands. 

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

~~~~~~

[gangles-toybox]

Blankslate Ribbuny au!!(Part 1)

WHOOOOO boyyyy....this will be...interesting.....mainly to see how many pics I can put in one post partly tho I may do it differently...idk but I hope this will be an interesting read nonetheless

Jax: Oh no! You got me *all* tied up! Ooo~ You're so *tough* Gangle!!

Jax: Gangle I know you, you're gonna have a period or whatever for 5 minutes then you're gonna apologize like always

Gangle: Shut up Jax

Jax: What a cute attempt from somebody that lets me use them as my own little dolly

Gangle: I *can* leave you, Jax Jax: I'd love to see you try~

Jax: But we all know that won't last more than an hour so just let me go and I'll cuddle you or somethin' til' you forget, 'k?

Gangle: I wouldn't be so sure of that Jax: ! tighten

Jax: C'mon Gangle we both know that you're gonna let me go in 3...2...1...

*tighten* Jax: YIPE!

Jax: For [Censored for family values by Caine]s sake Gangle everybody knows your a crybaby. You are such an idiot if you throw me away. You're so dramatic

Jax: Gangle, what are you doing? Trying to squeeze me like a lemon? (haha...)

Jax: Guh... Gangle: ?

Gangle: GAH!!

Gangle: Ugh...Jax I'm so sorry for-

TW/CW: for drawn dismemberment!

[whatevermakesyoubreak]

“he missed adrenaline.”

“he was only human, after all.”

“an insidious perversion of heaven’s sanctified iridescence.”

- by and about illumi zoldyck in sic infit

> whooooo let me cook??? no diddy or anything, but the scene where illumi spots lira & feels her aura for the first time is probably my favorite thing i’ve ever written. like ever. i feel like it says a lot about both of them without saying much at all idk. read it under the cut if u love me.

[zephrunsimperium]

is Knowing Me, Knowing You a romantic billford story? what kind of story is it, actually? it looks interesting but I’m afraid to read any type of billford in fear of it being… not the best. what do you think of the ship, actually, since you’re such a fidduathor fan? also, does it end okay, even when incomplete? I have a lot of questions about the fic tbh. too scared to read it tho lol

Whooooo boy do I have a lot to say about this... I highly encourage everyone to read this entire post.

So, my thoughts on BillFord are extremely complicated. I am, first and foremost, a FiddAuthor shipper. That is the ship I consider canon and I even headcanon Bill to be aroace and actively encourage Ford and Fidds to get together because Ford needs to get over stupid societal homophobia plus it's fun to wear down the human's moral compass about hitting on a married man.

BillFord is a FASCINATING concept and it's not hard to see why the ship is as popular as it is despite the (well-deserved) stigma; a lot of things between them that can be read as fuel to the shipping fire. (ie the hair ruffles, the nose flick, the nicknames, the gold statue, the piano serenade, Ford being attracted to the strange, Bill offering to make Ford "one of us," even the possibly kinky undertones of glowy blue chains and bodily possession)

But the problem is that the ship can get very nasty very fast. Make no mistake, what Bill does to Ford is abuse. He is manipulative and violent and cruel. "Mystery bruises?" Literally torturing Ford on screen? Driving a wedge between Ford and his support system to the point that he has extreme trouble trusting people? Preying upon Ford's insecurities about being a freak? That is horrifying stuff, in particular because of how clear the parallels are to real world abuse.

With that in mind, let me talk about KMKY. I loved this fic to pieces. It’s written and organized incredibly well with a good mix of humor, sentiment, tragedy, and villainy without ever feeling off-balance tonally. The best thing about this fic, however, is the mature and nuanced themes about abuse: how hard it is to still love your abuser even when you start realizing that they're as bad as they are, accepting that you're a victim and have no reason to apologize, how an abuser's own trauma isn't an excuse for their actions. I really appreciate that the author has sympathy for Bill while still clearly acknowledging that "hey, what Bill did to Ford was abuse and Ford doesn't have to forgive him, much less take him back." A lesser writer would force Bill and Ford together, but that's not what happens because it's not what should happen.

So, for anyone who is interested in reading it... The gist of it is that instead of inviting Fiddleford to work on the portal, Ford makes a body for Bill to assist in person. The first 33 chapters develop their relationship (ft. Fiddleford being confused and stressed) and then Ford finds out Bill has been lying and eventually goes through the portal. It is very much a romance but the writing is so good that there are times when it's genuinely heartbreaking that the two of them won't work out.

I would definitely say that Bill is the main character (even though Ford has a significant amount of viewpoint time and he's the one you're supposed to root for) because he's the one who changes throughout the story. It's not a positive change, but it is an extremely compelling character arc. The characterization of Bill in this fic is particularly cool to me because he’s definitely a complete person, but he’s very clearly inhuman.

A little preview/incentive to read it: all of Bill’s underlings have individual personalities, Jheselbraum is a super important character and her characterization is... really cool (that's not a good description, but I was in love with it), the worldbuilding of all the places Ford visits in the multiverse was really cool and fun, there are great OCs like Wendy's mom, this mob boss guy that is a delight to hate, and a sarcastic kick-ass alien lady, Bill's backstory is really impactful, Pyronica is a bad bitch, Bill and Ford fight zombies while We Go Together from Grease plays in the background, there are cool themes about enjoying the mundane things in life and how society treats the Strange, and well-written humor that had me laughing out loud constantly. For as long as it is, all of it was extremely memorable and hardly any of it felt like filler. (I will warn you if you choose to read it, there is some serious steam.)

As for the ending... I totally understand why the author stopped writing it. They were trying to make it canon-compliant, but by the time it caught up to the show it was very clear that adhering to the canon material was holding them back. They did their best, but I could tell they weren't enjoying writing it and if you're not enjoying your art, then I don't think it's worth doing.

Wow that was a long post. Thanks so much for the ask, Anon! I hope this was a satisfying response!

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Bone-Stick Breaker

@46-reasonable-hamsters

Make no BONES about it, there’s a lot of GLOWING remarks in here. A real ILLUMINATING read, that’s positive to leave your eyes SHINING with laughter (and-also-maybe-a-little-bit-of-concern-about-the-authors-mental-state).

Should this be concerning? yeah.

Was it incredibly weird? Yup.

Would any reasonable person be incredibly disturbed right now? YES.

Does Danny need therapy? ABSOLUTELY.

Why you ask?

Oh only because Danny is glowing through the motions of systematically attempting to break every single bone in his entire body one by one, nothing too wild.

Just a little mild self torture is all.

It’s no big deal.

It’s definitely not a sign of a severely unstable psyche, no matter what anyone -Jazz- says.

It’s fun.

That’s a lie.

Well at least it’s Educational.

eh-juh-kay-shuh-nuhl.

Yay! Points for him! And points for another broken bone! A glow-in-the-dark star sticker!

That’s one more rib down!

He’s okay.

Everything is FINE.

It’s not like his boney woney’s are filled with glow-stick juice or anything.

Okay that’s exactly what it is.

He’s a little glowy broken boy.

A bone beater boy.

A real boner if you will.

That was a really dumb joke but he absolutely does not apologize. Just like this is a really dumb plan but he’s not apologising for this either.

Even if his teeth did count as bones and he did attempt to Slap Chop™ one to see what would happen and maybe accidentally sent a chunk flying into the soup pot.

At least he confirmed that yes, his teeth glowed when ‘snapped’, or Slap Chopped™, too.

He’s positive he is absolutely making Technus regret breaking his leg the day before yesterday’s morning, leading to his glowing discovery; all the ghosts were giving positively glowing reviews.

Meaning some were casually cheering the chaos and suffering, and others were begging him to ‘please stop’ and ‘spare us’ and ‘no don’t stab us with your bones! Why do you have bones!’.

But Danny had bones.

Ho boy did he ever have bones.

Bones to pick with everyone that is! Ha!

He’s got this glow stick party going and it’s utterly illuminating the night. Really lighting it up. Giving it a good ol’ spit shine. Absolutely brightening up everyone’s nightmares.

He should start a rave.

A bone glow stick rave.

It would be a bone cracking good time.

Maybe he could liquify some bones, hope they still be shiny, and make a motherfuckin’ proper glowing jello pit. He could use it to try and make people see the light at the end of the tunnel and then all the high people would make a bunch of giggle-watts!

Plus!

Everyone would definitely pay for that!

You know, since he’s not shady!

He is slim though, slim and slime. An ecto-green lime crime, since he be leaving random bones bits around.

The cops must be having a fright over all his nightlights.

He kept ignoring their questioning though, gotta keep the conversations light after all.

Let him be a funky little bean, copper man!

ACAB!

WHOOOOO!

If it was Christmas time he’d replace the city hall Christmas trees star with a bone star. Like a rock star but more him flavoured and more likely to sound like ominous crunching sounds and unholy screams. The kind that would get him basked in holy light out of sheer concern.

Eh. Danny’d still shine brighter.

After all he’s broken a-hundred-and-ninety-two bones, how many bones have those angels broken?

Probably none.

So there.

He’s the winner! Go him! Chicken bone dinner!

Fear the glowing Bone-Stick that is he!

Like a boom stick, except what gets shot and boomed everywhere is BONES!

A real glow up he says, especially since he’s waaaaaaaay brighter.

And then Val has the gaul to catch him in an ecto-net, point at him, and tells him to ‘stop this you menace’ and how ‘seventeen people have vomited because of this crap’ and ‘why is this your response when Tucker cuts off your caffeine supply’.

Which, rude.

Either he got his life blood or they got his bone blood!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! BONES FOR THE BONE THRONE!

Val tasered him into unconsciousness for that one and Tuck dumped exactly one hundred and ninety eight bags of coffee beans on him.

…

But he made it to two-hundred-and-one on his first try? That’s more bones than what’s in one entire hamster! Doesn’t he deserve better pickings for his lickings?

Should he aim for forty-six hamsters next time? Really shoot for the stars and glow amongst them!

He must acquire more bones! Grow them from the ectoplasmic ether!

For the first time in a long time Tuck punches him.

Do they not understand?

Do they not know?!?

That this only causes the rumblies that only broken bones can satisfy to grow!

He will feast on his complete breaks and be one with THE NIGHT IN UN-DIMMABLE RADIANCE!

Shine bright like a bone diamond!

And be better at hide and glow seek!

But first.

Coffee.

Then after.

Only after.

The Bone-Stick Breaker shall return once more upon this mortal domain!

And with him!

UNENDING GLOW STICK BRIGHTERY!

End.

Prompt: Danny breaks a bone in ghost form for the first time, and discovers that his bones function similarly to glow sticks

[toxinoire]

(Song 1: Seventeen {Because they are seventeen year olds so this makes sense somehow}) (I know some don't rhyme but I'm not really the absolute best at rhyming)

Poisoned

Mistreated

Abused

Manipulated

Mistreated

Bullied

And on this night we are...LIVE

Listen up let me tell you a story!

A story that you think you've heard before.

We know you know our names and our fame and our faces

Know all about the glories and the disgraces.

I'm done cause all this time, we're labeled by the heiarchies in this stupid rhyme!

So I picked up a pen and a microphone.

Westernburg's about to be overthrown!

Poisoned

Mistreated

Abused

Manipulated

Mistreated

Bullied

And just for you tonight! We're Dead, Mistreated, LIVE!

Welcome to the show, to the High School remix

Switching up the flow as we add the prefix

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

Raising up the roof til' we hit the ceiling

Get ready for the truth that we'll be revealing

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

But now we're

Seventeen

All you ever hear and read about

Is our school and the way it went down.

But this society fails on a lot of stuff

You're gonna find out what happened before I took the crown.

Tonight we're gonna do ourselves justice, cause we're taking you to court!

Every single rose has its thorns and you're gonna hear 'em live in consort.

Poisoned

Mistreated

Abused

Manipulated

Mistreated

Bullied

And just for you tonight! We're Dead, Mistreated, LIVE!

Welcome to the show, to the High School remix

Switching up the flow as we add the prefix

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

Dancing to the beat til' the break of day once

We're done we'll start again like it's the Renaissance

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

But now we're

Seventeen~

*spoken* Remember us from that Movie and Musical?

*sung* (Poisoned)

My name's the almighty Heather Chandler

Had the school's crown for years

I'm Westernburg's very own royalty

My loyalty is to my reputation

So if you try to defy me

You won't try that again

(Mistreated)

I'm that Duke girl and I'm up next

See I took over Westernburg

Yeah I'm that amazing

Why did I lose the crown then?

A crowd's preference for ruler

Always wins in the end.

(Abused)

Jason Dean the one who could've fixed it all

(No-)

When I tried to blow up the school

I was stopped

So I blew myself up in it's steps

Stick around and you'll see how it gets

(Manipulated)

Je suis Veronica Sawyer

(Aye!)

When he saw how I viewed school he was like

(AYE!)

But I didn't agree to his plan of death

Funny how it ended up with him blowing off his own h-

ALRIGHT so I'm the Heather who almost killed herself

(Mistreated)

Because of being naive in a school that glorifies bad mental health

Lock up your cabinets

And have your cheers done

McNamara is here and the fun's begun!

(Bullied)

5 down I'm the good girl type

I'm the kind of person they'd target and tried to ruin my life

Martha Dunnstock, who stayed alive despite the scars

I bet you wanna know how I got this far

I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far

HEY!

Do you wanna know how we got this far?

Then-

Welcome to the show, to the High School remix

Switching up the flow as we add the prefix

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

Get your hands up

Get this party buzzin

You want a monarchy

Well there's half a dozen

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

Yeah~

But now we're

Seventeen

Let's

Just

Go

And

Be

Seventeen!

McNamara: Okay so how's everyone tonight?

Crowd: Whoo!

Veronica: WE SAID HOW IS EVERYONE TONIGHT?!

Crowd: WHOOOOO!

JD: We are...

All: Seventeen~

Duke: Welcome to our live tour with dead people and people who almost died.

Chandler: We've got riffs to ruffle your ruffs.

Martha: Shimmys to shake up your chemise.

McNamara: And a whole lotta teen angst drama.

Veronica: More like teen angst bullshit.

(They laugh)

Chandler: So obviously, you know who we are.

McNamara: BUT GIVE IT UP TO THE BAND PLAYING THE MUSIC!

Duke: We got republicanette on the guitar!

(Republicanette does a solo)

Veronica: Betty Finn on the bass!

(Betty does a solo)

JD: And killing it on the keys we have Hipster Dork!

(Hipster Dork does solo)

Chandler: And with beats so sick they'll give you gout, it's New Wave Party Girl on the drums!

(New Wave Party Girl does a solo)

Veronica: So you came here to party with us tonight.

Martha: No alcohol, please.

JD: But we're not here to have fun.

McNamara: Yeah, we've got a score to settle.

Martha: The only real reason people even gave a care about us was the reputation of our school.

Duke: So we came here tonight to step back into the spotlight.

Chandler: But the problem is there's six of us-

All: Seventeen

Chandler: Year olds.

McNamara: And we know you have your favorites.

JD: Everyone wants to know who's the most important victim.

Martha: We've heard it all...

Veronica:Who lasted the longest was the strongest.

Chandler:The biggest sinner is obvs the winner.

JD: Who had the gun is number one

McNamara: Who was most chased shall be first placed

Duke: Most inglorious is victorious

Martha: The winning contestant was the least protest-ant

(They all looked at Martha)

Protestant!

Chandler: But we came here tonight to answer your questions once and for all

Duke: And tell you whatcha want, whatcha really really want...to know

JD: That's right, we're gonna help you figure out which one of us is-

Veronica: The real sheriff in town

McNamara: The rose among the thorns.

Martha: The person that should probably get an appointment with a therapist.

Veronica: Martha-...true.

Martha: But how the heck are they going to choose the winner?

Duke: Hold up! If this is going to be a fair competition, they're gonna have to judge us on the one thing we all have common.

JD: The one to take the crown should be the one who had the biggest

(A beat)

McNamara: The firmest

(A beat)

Chandler: The fullest

(A beat)

Veronica: Load of BS to deal with the school that gave us inhumane societal expectations.

McNamara: So, we're going to hold a little contest for you.

Martha: And the rules are simple:

JD: The one who was dealt the worst hand

Chandler: The one who had the most hardships to withstand

Veronica: The one who everything didn't really go as planned

All: Shall be the one to lead the band!

Chandler: So, what do you think? Are you ready to choose your ruler?

Crowd: Yeah!

McNamara: We said, ARE YOU READY!

Crowd: YEAH!

Welcome to the show

To the coronation

Who will take the crown

Be the pop sensation

Everybody knows that we used to be teens in a heiarchy

Seventeen year old teens

Seventeen year old teens

Seventeen year old teens!

(@horror-lady00 Whatcha think?)

[katasstrophy]

isagi brain juice ! enjoy this lil sneak peek of what i’m working on (isagi’s lowk a dick here but we humble him, but then we get humbled back ) —

isagi knew you were moody. it was something he disciplined himself to be patient for and he prided himself in being able to handle your mood swings. but right now he’s just trying to think of a way to not let his veins pop out of frustration.

“you’re being dramatic, i told you it was my fault already!” isagi frowned, his index and thumb rubbing the temples of his forehead to soothe the little headache forming.

“if you know it’s your fault then why aren’t you apologizing?” scoffing at his eye roll you pause your cleaning on the countertop and cross your arms at him, foot tapping in annoyance.

“because YN you should know that practice is irregular— if you’d told me that your parents were coming over earlier i’d have asked for a day off!”

gritting your teeth in anger you walked up to the man and rivaled his glare with your own, temper flaring at his ignorance. “yoichi i don’t want to have to hear that bullshit excuse from you ever again because like you, i’m also an athlete and i have better time management than blue lock’s so called hero.”

letting out a huff of anger isagi throws his head back and feels his patience thrown out the window. any self control he had before was now gone.

“just because you have better time management doesn’t mean shit to me YN. you don’t need an ego for your sport, i do. my career literally depends on me and my confidence to kick the ball. so sorry if i don’t have time to play house with you.”

before isagi could walk away you made sure to grab the silver necklace he wore- the one with your initials on it and drag him down to you height— eyes flaring in anger, and with a low voice you whisper in his ear as your words trembled in anger. “ don’t take it out on me that you don’t have the balls to kick a fucking football isagi yoichi. just because you’re too pussy to consistently keep an ego doesn’t mean you can disrespect our relationship.” grabbing his jaw firmly you make the blue eyed boy look into your eyes, making sure his line of vision was focused on you. “unlike you yoichi i’m not a dog to ego. following his orders to a T. why don’t you just wear a collar with his name on it? that way when he wants to go on a walk he can just strap a leash on you whenever he pleases.”

laughing to yourself you release his necklace and began to walk away— but not before isagi grabs the back of your shirt and drags you back to him, his arms harshly man-handling you to lay on the table, pinning yours against smooth surface as he let out a growl of frustration.

“you’ve gotten mouthy ever since you landed a spot on the national team YN. i recommend to think before you speak because i’ll make sure you never say that shit to me again.” he seethed.

pressing your arms harder onto the surface he felt himself smirk at your whimper.

“if i’m a dog then you’re my bitch. remember that pretty.”

the way i’ve been hogging this all too myself like a professional hoarder literally WHAT THE FUCK KAYLA i can’t keep going on like this. like WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT WHOOOOO ALLOWED YOU TO ASSULT MY EYEBALLS WITH THIS TOE CURLING DRABBLE???? the audacity. no consideration for my wellbeing and sanity ABSOLUTELY NONE ZERO hope ur ready to cover my medical bills bc i have permanent asthma from wheezing so hard while reading this i am NOOTTTT OKAAYYY SCREECHING TEARING MY HAIR OUT

where do i even START you’ve been feeding me ur angry isagi agenda for a while now BUT THIS IS NEXT LEVEL CAUTION HOT MIGHT BURN SCALDING …. i will quite literally never get tired of readers being just as much IF NOT MORE of an asshole especially when it comes to bllk boys like ,,,, YES BBIE BE NASTY AND DEPRAVED AND A MASSIVE JERK WITH ANGER ISSUES i want every blue lock guy ever to go “is my type insane women??? hot” i’m foaming at the mouf coochie weeping

AND BOY DID YOU DELIVVEERRRRRR. like the argument here is so insane(ly sexy). they went off so hard the clap backs??? i gasped out loud it was vicious instant hit call the firemen for that type of first degree burn kinda insults. reader grabbing ISAGI’S CHAIN WITH HER INITIALS TO BRING HIM TO EYE LEVEL what if i came what then. there’s just so much audacity and tension bc they’re both pro athletes.

“if i’m your dog then you’re my bitch. remember that pretty.” THIS TOOK ME OUUTTTT LOORRDDD. the contrast of bitch and pretty like yeah he’s gonna hate fuck the shit out of you on the kitchen counter but ur still his pretty baby he’s obsessed with you.

[chocoblep]

#17: Plan D

Prompt: Sally

:This is a bad idea.: Rath directed that thought at Illian, who crouched near the outer wall of their makeshift shelter. It was little more than a cave, a small hole about the size of Rath’s face the only thing allowing light to permeate the space. They’d shoved a huge rock in the other hole, the one that they’d entered through. :They pick up on the slightest of scents. They leave trails for their friends to follow. Who knows if they can hear us if we make noise.:

:Yeah, I don’t know,: came a thought in return. While Illian was not a mind-reader and had no telepathic tendencies, Rath was unable to turn off his ability to read surface thoughts. Thankfully, that was a relatively short-range ability, so the only things he could hear in his mind were Illian’s mental thoughts in response to his own communications and the vague sense of consciousness that less intelligent species gave off within earshot that were preoccupied with their search for food. :I know you wanted to distract them, but who knows if they would go for it? And besides, Fox’s been wanting to try out her new toy. Let her have some fun.:

Rath stared at Illian, watching the half-elezen as he in turn peeked through the hole in the wall. :I hate this,: he thought sourly, and several scenarios ran through his mind of ways that Fox could have been killed or seriously injured.

:I know you do. But we’ve only been waiting for an hour, Rath. She’s fine; the earring hasn’t gone cold yet.: He only glanced in Rath’s direction; shrouded in shadow as he was, he didn’t expect Illian to be able to see him.

He swished his tail in annoyance and let out a quiet huff in the darkness.

Soft, rhythmic clicking answered him, and both he and Illian froze in place as one of Cutter’s Cry’s sentries skittered past. Something had alerted it, and it paid the two intruders no mind as it left the vicinity entirely. 

Either Fox had been successful in her distraction, or she was in big trouble. The two of them started going through ideas and throwing them out in rapid succession. When Illian glanced to the rock blocking the entrance to their little safehouse, Rath turned to reach out a hand toward it–and nearly jumped out of his skin as a loud, panicked thought pierced his senses.

No, not panicked. Excited.

:HOWDY BOYS! IT WORKED BUT THEY WERE IN THE WORST POSSIBLE PLACE OH GODS THEY’RE GAINING ON ME OPEN THE HOLE!:

Leveraging all of his mental strength, Rath used his mind to yank the boulder aside just enough for a person to squeeze through. It wasn’t a person who came through first, though; a massive cocoon was shoved into the space, and Rath recoiled from its sudden proximity. A hyuran woman followed quickly behind, practically shouting at him in her mind to close the hole again. He did so, and heard multiple thuds against it as other bodies tried to follow. The boulder immediately started moving inward, and Rath scrambled to hold it in place with his power.

“WHOOOOO, SUCK IT, ANTS,” the woman half-shouted, half-panted as she caught her breath.

“You were supposed to give us a signal to bail you out, Fox!” Illian had to raise his voice as he scrambled back from the wall to avoid giant ant limbs as they probed through the face-sized hole. 

Thankfully, they couldn’t fit through that hole either, but the thought of them pushing the boulder into their tiny cavern sent a wave of nausea crashing over Rath. If they got in, there would be no room to fight. They would be dead.

“I dropped the pearl in the water and couldn’t go in after it,” the woman replied almost nonchalantly, pulling a cobweb out of her silky black hair.

“And now we’re trapped with an army of ants outside,” Rath growled, his tail flicking double-time. The entire colony was on alert, and all of the alarm in their heads had pervaded this area, making its way into his own mind. His heart hammered against his rib cage. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. “We have to go. I can’t hold this rock in place much longer, so think of something, please.”

Illian’s hand found Rath’s shoulder in the darkness; perhaps he’d heard the way Rath’s voice had begun to rise and quiver at the end of his request, or perhaps Rath wasn’t being good about containing the sudden panic that had washed over him, but he was grateful for the stability in that moment.

“I’ve got an idea,” Illian said, “But we’re still likely going to have to fight our way out. If you can concentrate on keeping the cocoon away from them, Fox and I can drive them off.”

“What do you want me to do?” Fox asked, shifting nearby. “Wait. WAIT. Is it time for Plan D!?”

The rock jolted in place, and Rath doubled down his efforts, but it didn’t matter too much; ants were very good at tunneling, and what was once a face-sized hole had already grown big enough to accommodate an ant head, which was already shoved into it and snapping at Illian’s jacket sleeve. Rath’s panic spiked again, and he grit his teeth to try and work his way through his quickly scattering mental faculties.

“I’m not touching it!” Rath protested, but Illian was already addressing Fox.

“It’s time for Plan D,” Illian confirmed, and Rath’s stomach dropped. Plan D was the absolute last resort, but there really was no other option. “On my count. Three…”

Rath’s muscles tensed.

“Two…”

All three of them shifted into ready stances, shimmying along to one side of the tiny cavern, away from the hole in the wall but closer to the giant boulder that the ants were still trying to move.

“One…”

Fox clicked off the safety on her gun. It sounded like it was less than an ilm from his ear, even overtop of the commotion outside. 

“GO!”

Illian threw his hands out toward the ant who’d shoved its head through the wall, and streaks of flame shot from his fingers. Rath had never heard a giant ant scream before, but the sound it made as it backed out of the hole was enough to make him pin his ears flat to his head and wince. Almost immediately, Fox was bunkered next to the hole, the barrel of her revolver aimed out at the mass of writhing bodies outside. Two shots rang, and the noise got louder as giant insects scattered, but the pressure on the boulder lessened.

“Three still on it!” Fox shouted, and shot again. More clamoring. Another shot. Two more and she’d need to reload. “One!”

“Move the rock and grab the prize!” Illian shouted, and Rath didn’t have time to tell him that no, he was not touching this disgusting thing. He moved the boulder and Illian shot a fireball right into the last ant, and then Rath was floating the cocoon in front of him as they bolted out of the chamber. The ants that had scattered immediately gave chase, and though they were fast, Illian’s spell-work was faster–or perhaps it was the fire-crystal-powered gun he pulled out of his jacket pocket. Rath didn’t look back to check, but he felt the heat at his back and saw Fox reloading her revolver as they ran. 

The colony was a maze that they’d mapped out already, but more than once they took a wrong turn, left with no choice but to follow the path until they encountered one of the marks they’d made. Fox led them down a narrow corridor. Ants poured in behind them, forced to march single file through the bottleneck, and Illian kept them at bay with his fire as they went, managing to burn one badly enough that he heard another of those terrible screams.

“Got it! They won’t be following us through here!” Illian crowed.

Rath was too busy concentrating on keeping the cocoon airborne to reply, his thoughts occupied by just how gross the thing was. Seriously. There was an ant twitching inside it. It was much smaller than the ones chasing them, but it was still a giant ant, and if there was one thing that Rath hated with a passion, it was bugs. As they rounded another corner, he saw sunlight and nearly wept. Not much longer, and they would be outside and he could put this thing down and make someone else carry it.

The sound of Fox’s gunshots startled him out of that thought, and he threw all of his energy into getting out of the cavern. All three of them put on a burst of speed as they hit the open air, and Fox suddenly stopped, whipping around and bringing something up to her mouth.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” she hollered.

Rath nearly tripped in surprise as an explosion sounded behind them. Illian cursed. All three of them kept running until they couldn’t anymore, and they stumbled to a halt, panting heavily as they bent over their knees. Rath lowered the cocoon onto the ground, and Fox pulled a wad of fabric from her bag. It was a sack, which she carefully put the cocoon into, and then tied off. 

“Phew! Thanks. I’ll carry it from here,” she said, and then hoisted it over her shoulder.

“You couldn’t have put it in the bag back in the cave?” Rath asked, wrinkling his nose.

“And get ant pheromones all over it? Nah. It’d lead ‘em straight to us.”

“And if any part of that had touched me, it wouldn’t have made it out of that cave--no, stop thinking about it, augh!” He turned away from Fox, as if her mental image of him running after the cocoon while shouting ‘Ew, ew, ew, ew!’ on repeat in rapid succession could be shoved out of his mind simply by doing so. He hadn’t done that. At least, he thought he hadn’t done that. His breakfast nearly came back up when her mental image turned into him running into the thing face-first. “Fox, please,” he pleaded, and she cackled madly.

“Let’s take this thing to its new home, eh?” she said, and Illian came to collect Rath, threading his arm around the Miqo’te’s shoulders as much to hold him up as to comfort him.

“Come on,” he said, “It’s time for you to wake up.”

Rath shot upright in his bed, breathing heavily, startling Illian and causing the man to jerk his hand away.

“Gods above!” The blonde half-elezen gave a startled laugh. ”I just came in here to wake you and you were talking in your sleep. Didn’t even lay a hand on you before you shot up!”

“Was I? What was I saying?” Rath asked, the grogginess starting to win out against the startlement of jerking awake.

Illian’s blue eyes twinkled, and dread crept into Rath’s limbs as the man leaned in and down, his golden braid sliding over his shoulder to hand down and swing like a pendulum between them. He pitched his voice high and breathy.

“Ew, ew, ew, ew!”

Rath groaned, falling backward into his pillow again. “It was the ants, Illy!” he called out, trying to drown out the syllable as Illian repeated it, getting into Rath’s space. “You’re lucky I like you, you insufferable asshole!”

“You really should stop letting your dreams bug you so much.” As Illian straightened, he flipped his braid back over his shoulder and started toward the door, laughing as a pillow soared right into his head.

M’rath loved his best friend, but it was too early in the morning for these shenanigans. He rolled over and pulled the blankets back up over his shoulders. Another few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Nine: Better

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: language, a smidge of angst, fluff, small fight, Mickey being shifty, mentions of Mickey’s rough home life, soft!Mickey, gaslighting, light smut (finally, right?) dry humping, Mickey creaming his pants, slight dirty talk, slight praise, blood, etc

A/N: Whooooo boy! This chapter was SO much fun to write, we finally have our first bit of light smut. Not penetration, not even being naked but trust me, it’s not. I love these two dickheads so fucking much, so it means a lot to me that you guys reading like them too. Really motivates me to write, so a big, huge massive THANK YOU! Once again, thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading for me. You’re their number one fan and that makes me want to sail, THANK YOUUUU!!!!

@lizey-thornberry

Three months.

It has been just about three months of being blissfully happy, and it honestly felt surreal. I could feel myself falling harder and harder for Mickey every passing day, when his fingers would brush the hair out of my face as the wind blew, when he’d snake his arms around my waist whilst I was working on a paper for class and whisper into my ear, when he would kiss me, so soft and so gentle as though I’d break. I sometimes wondered if he was afraid of that, moving himself against me too roughly would make me splinter and threaten to shatter in his hands like some fragile glass doll, it wasn’t like I wasn’t thankful for the kind treatment, far from it, but yet, I wondered still.

But it hadn’t gone further than that, further than kissing, not really. I wasn’t ready.

I knew I wanted to, God, I wanted to. Whenever a make out session got too heated he would be the first one to pull away, gently gripping the tops of my arms and moving me softly but firmly with a smile, saying, “We’ve got time, baby,” And kissing my forehead.

He was so patient, it was disconcerting. In the frenemy part of our relationship, I didn’t know he could be this way. The way Randy and even Derek would talk about his escapades, I doubted Mickey had the capacity to be soft and gentle with anybody, but with me? It was almost like he was a different person.

Almost.

He still had an edge to him, something I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on in the three months I’d been dating him. It seemed as though every day that passed he’d get more and more distant, glued to his computer and his cell, and our dates started falling few and far between. Sometimes it’d be days before I’d hear from him, and he’d come bounding back without so much as an apology, let alone an explanation. To start with, I didn’t ask for one, maybe I just preferred remaining blissfully unaware, not wanting the bubble to burst, or trying to be at the very least.

I hadn’t spoken with Randy since our fight, although I tried. Every time I’d approach him he’d stalk off like a fucking child, leaving the collective friendship group with raised eyebrows and confused comments, to which I’d just wave off. Sidney most of all was concerned, telling me as much when she found me on the green a few days prior.

“You have to talk to him, D.” She told me, voice firm and pressing, and her eyes fixed on me. I knew how it seemed to her, she didn’t want any more broken bonds or promises, we’d all been through enough. But honestly, at that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t owe Randy anything, least of all speaking to him. He wouldn’t apologize, he never did. Why would he if he thought he was in the right?

I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice, not out of annoyance, but about the fact I knew this conversation was coming as I dropped my pen onto my notebook and shot her a look, eyebrows arching a fraction as I watched her stare at me, fingers tapping rhythmically against her elbow as she crossed her arms.

“Don’t give me that look, Dahlia.” She said in a tone reminiscent of scolding a child. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before moving my hands under the table, so she wouldn’t catch the twisting motion of my ring. She knew me too well, knew my tells when I was nervous or anxious about something. I looked at her dead on, sucking in a breath before saying in a clipped tone, “He can come and talk to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. What’re you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have theatre?”

Sid sat side-saddle on the bench beside me, elbow propped up on the table and her head resting on her hand as she spoke, “That was an hour ago, Derek’s meeting me here.” I noticed how her tone softened as she said Derek’s name before immediately becoming serious again. “It’s been three months and you and Randy have barely said five words to each other, Dahlia. You two usually can’t go five minutes without talking to each other, what the hell happened?”

I pursed my lips, hesitating and trying to plot out my response before telling her. As I looked into her big, brown eyes, I knew I could trust her. Sid wasn’t one for gossip, but I was worried. Worried that as soon as I told anybody what was going on between Mickey and I the bubble would finally burst and things would become a little too real.

She watched my expression, saw the hesitation in my eyes, and her hand dropped to mine under the table, halting the twisting motion on my ring and squeezing it softly as if prompting me to tell her. Sidney was perceptive, and knew me far too well.

So I told her. There was no use in lying, and I fucking hate lying anyway.

I told her everything, my feelings for Mickey, how we had started dating three months ago and decided not to tell anybody, how Randy confronted me about it and blew his fucking top, and how I felt about Mickey. How I really felt.

“You’ve known him longer than I have, Sid.” I spoke after I finished telling her everything. She’d listened patiently, hand remaining over mine as I told the tale.

“I suppose.” She said with a small shrug before adding, “But not that much longer. Why?”

“I know how he… Was. Randy is worried that he’s going to end up breaking my heart, but he doesn’t see the Mickey I see, you know?” I know I sounded more like I was trying to convince myself rather than her, but she nodded thoughtfully as I continued, “I love Randy, but he doesn’t understand. Mickey makes me feel…”

“Better?” Sidney suggested when it seemed as though I was at a loss for words.

Better. It was somehow the perfect word. Not completely healed, not perfect, but better, and it was enough. More than enough. I had spent ages clinging on to life, barely, hardly scraping by, unsure how I would remain afloat, ages spent in almost stasis, half-life. Not dead, but not alive either, a cheap facsimile of an existence, not one of note or satisfaction. Then he came along. He changed it. With Mickey, I didn’t feel that way. When I was with him? I felt alive, I felt happy, I felt fucking good and yes, better. Much better.

“Yeah, better. He makes me feel like a human being again.” I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face with my free hand. I was itching to play with the ring on my finger, to indulge in my nervous habit of choice but fought the urge and just kept looking at Sid, my knee bouncing anxiously.

“I don’t want to get hurt.” I added softly. I could be vulnerable around her, I knew that, and it helped greatly.

“Who does?” Sid’s other hand moved to my knee, stopping the increasingly rapid bouncing motion as she spoke very gently, but very clearly, “But if you don’t want to, then you won’t. You’re smart, Dahlia. Smart enough to know if someone’s playing you.”

I looked at her and pointed at the covered scar on my stomach, smiling a little and sarcastically saying, “Yeah, I’m real perceptive.”

Sid smiled faintly, but didn’t speak, allowing me to continue.

“And lately he’s just been… Weird, you know? He’s always getting phone calls, gets really shifty if I ask who it is, or just changes the subject all together. I don’t want to be paranoid, but I know how he was, you know, before. I don’t just want to be another name on the list of people who he’s had in his bed.”

“Do you really think he’d do that?” She asked me, moving her hand from my knee to lean her elbow against the table before carrying on, “I don’t think he’d be in a relationship with you only to mess it up by cheating, it doesn’t seem like his style.”

I stared back at her, thoughtful for a moment, before slowly shaking my head no, eyes flickering past Sidney’s head to see Mickey and Derek approaching, Mickey smiling at me warmly.

“They’re here.” I said quickly, standing up and grabbing my bag from beside me, as Sidney twisted around to look behind her, waving her hand at Derek. “Thanks, Sid.” I added softly as the boys eventually made their way to us.

Derek smiled at me politely before moving to Sid, bending down and lightly catching her lips with his. She melted into it with a blissed out smile, and I saw Mickey roll his eyes from the corner of my eye, making me have to bite back a laugh.

“Mind if I steal her, Dahlia?” Derek asked, his eyes not leaving Sidney as his hand slipped into hers and their fingers laced together.

I smiled at him though he wasn’t looking and responded with a simple, “Of course.” Sidney glanced at me then at Mickey, something he didn’t miss, before saying goodbye to both of us and leaving with Derek.

“She knows, huh?” He asked, watching Sid and Derek walk away, and I simply shrugged with a, “Yeah, she does. That a problem?”

He looked back at me, settling down on the bench and patting the space beside him. I looked down at his hand, pursing my lips and staying put, arms crossing across my chest tightly. He stopped the patting motion, hands moving to rest on his knees as he sighed deeply, leaning back and his eyebrows raising curiously at me as he asked, “What? Am I in trouble?”

“That depends.” I gripped my elbows tightly, eyes scanning his face as I thought about how to ask him.

I cared for Mickey, cared deeply. More than I thought was even possible. He’d picked me up and slowly began piecing me back together, did I want to risk that? I wasn’t an inherently jealous person, not usually anyway. At least, I didn’t think so. This was my first real relationship with someone I actually cared about, the feelings I was having were completely unfamiliar, a brand-new concept of feeling. Would this ruin it?

“Who keeps calling you?” I blurted out, eyes trained on his face and my voice a little sharper than I intended it to be. His expression smoothed, looking as blank as a mask as his head cocked just slightly to the side, fingers stopping the drumming motion on his leg.

“What do you mean?” he asked me calmly, maybe a little too calmly. Not as though he’d been necessarily expecting the question, but more unsurprised.

“Whoever you’re speaking to on the phone, you get all distracted and different afterwards. I know it’s probably none of my business but-“

“It is none of your business, Dahlia.” He interrupted me, voice a touch sharper as his fingers dug a little into his thigh, not looking away from my face, “What, you think it’s some bitch I have on the side? Didn’t we have this conversation three fucking months ago when we decided to, “try this out”?” His fingers came up in air quotations before falling back into his lap, a small tut and a roll of his eyes as he continued, “Fuck, Dahlia. Come on.”

A part of me knew exactly what he was doing, twisting things to direct everything back onto me, make me feel insecure and stupid. I hate to admit that it worked. He had me, he had me so fucking bad, I was ignoring every screaming red flag being thrust at me.

Pathetic, right?

I opened my mouth to backtrack, to apologize, tell him it really was none of my business, but he just shook his head at me, pushing himself up sharply and looking away from me, a hint of something I couldn’t quite distinguish briefly crossing his face before disappearing just as quickly. Pain? Hesitation? Regret?

“I’m not cheating on you, Dahlia.” His voice was calmer, but he still didn’t look at me directly, stared past me as though I wasn’t even there. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what’s going on?” I found myself approaching him, hands reaching up and holding his face in hands and making him look at me. His brown eyes looked into my own, and he sighed, hesitating for a moment before saying carefully, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to involve you, it’s messy, you know?”

I did know messy, apparently I attracted it, but at that moment I didn’t care. My fingers pressed firmly to his cheeks and he sighed, hands falling to my hips.

“So curious.” He mumbled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“You can talk to me.” I promised him, my tone was soft, hopeful, yet Mickey still flinched at my words, as if I shouted them in his face as opposed to the whisper I had put out into the air between us.

“Not here.” He said quickly, his hand moving from my hips to take my hand from his cheek, tugging me to his dorm room across campus.

Once inside, I realized I’d never been in his dorm, he was always in mine. I was pleasantly surprised to see it was cluttered but clean, posters of movies I’d never heard of crowded his walls, mountains of CD’s and DVD’s were piled high beside his television. I noticed it was a double room that he somehow had all to himself and questioned him about it curiously. He shrugged it off as he always did, mumbling about his scholarship and how it has its perks before he sat on his couch, gently pulling me down beside him. The place screamed him, it was nice, I could see myself spending time here and even better than that, it smelled like him, but in a very nice way, not in a reeking of dude kind of way so many college guy’s places did.

I looked at him expectantly, pulling my legs up under me and leaning back against the couch as he began to slowly attempt to explain what had been going on.

“I’ve got somewhat of a chequered past, Dahli.” He began, picking at a loose thread of his sweater, a small habit I noticed he took up when he was feeling anxious, and not making eye contact with me. I reached forward and placed my hand over his, stopping the motion and smiling encouragingly at him. He looked at me, soft brown eyes melting a little, and continued.

“My parents weren’t that great, not bad, but bad enough that I was bounced around the system for a lot of my childhood before I was placed back with them when I was fourteen. They’d had another kid by then, my brother. I started acting out, guess I felt replaced. It was just silly things, petty theft, the occasional Grand Theft Auto,” he flashed his devastating smile, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes, “Then things got more… serious. I was getting arrested a lot, my parents kicked me out, and everything just got worse. I try to stay in touch with my brother as much as I can, but it kind of just faded out when I started college.”

He adjusted himself on the couch, so he was directly facing me, my hand still gripping his tightly. “The phone calls I’ve been taking were from my mom, Dahlia. She asked me to stop trying to contact them, they want to move on from all the shit I put them through, says they can’t do that if I’m pestering them.”

It baffles me now how swiftly he managed to twist the truth about his life, and how easily I chose to believe him.

“I’m sorry, Mick. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

He shook his head, free hand moving on top of mine and smoothing his thumb over my knuckles as he said softly, “You’re really not.”

“I’m sorry about your family. They sound like dicks.” I commented.

A small smile broke out across his face and he chuckled a little before saying very pointedly, “Can’t all families be dicks?”

I smiled back at him, moving my hand from his and resting my palm on his cheek. He leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of my cold hands before opening back up and settling back on my face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking he was just being playful, but then bit the inside of my cheeks when I saw his serious face. His hand moved to my leg, fingers lightly grazing my thighs through my jeans as he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine.

I threw myself into it, the argument and fake confessions already forgotten as my hand moved from his cheek and into his hair, his own sliding up to grip my waist. He was being careful, calculated and was clearly doing his best to hold back, something he wasn’t at all used to doing. I knew that. But at that moment, I suddenly didn’t want him to be holding back.

I wasn’t ready to have sex with him, not yet. But I’d spent so long feeling nothing, I felt the overwhelming desire to feel anything, feel him touch me.

So instead of this just being another make out session, I decided to push myself.

It was important to be cautious, the last time things escalated I had the panic attack of all panic attacks, so I moved carefully, deliberately. I pushed myself up, moving one leg over him to straddle him as his hands remained on my hips, my lips not moving from his. A curious hum sounded from his mouth as he pulled back, looking up at me cautiously.

“I want to try something, if that’s okay?” I breathed, hands resting on his shoulders. He looked interested, an almost cocky smile on his face as he asked, “We’re not going to fuck, are we?”

I shook my head, reaching behind me to take his hands from my waist and move them to my ass, his expression grew even more interested.

“Oh, I see.” He said, tone even yet amused, “You want to grind-“

I cut him off, placing my hand over his mouth, and he chuckled from behind it, eyebrows raising.

“Don’t be crude.” I muttered, and he mumbled something from behind my hand. I slowly pulled it away, so he could speak clearly.

“We don’t have to.” His tone was more gentle, hands still tense on my ass. I nodded my head with a shrug, “I know, but I want to.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

I knew he was probably pent-up, knew his sex drive was ridiculously high, and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it, other than get himself off. After our make out sessions, he’d usually leave rock hard, having to adjust himself, so it wasn’t obvious on the walk back to his dorm, but he never complained, not once. But with how hard his blunt fingers were digging into the thin material of my sweats and pressing into the flesh of my ass, how his hips were slowly beginning to grind upward against me, I knew he was holding back yet again.

The pressure made me gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders and squeezing tightly. It was a subtle, soft pressure, the feeling of it felt shockingly good. Within three moves of his hips, I was seriously feeling it, eyes unfocused as the friction and slow simmering build of sensation sets in. I tried not to squeeze him much harder and just keep my mind on what he was doing, on the rhythm he set, steady, sure, but easy. All too soon being still wasn’t enough, I needed more, to contribute, so I did.

Tentative and certainly not in any kind of particular rush, I grind back experimentally, hips moving down and that pulled another sound from me and one from him too. The feeling of the fabric sliding back and forth on me was amazing, I could feel how wet I’d gotten, damp material plastered to my quickly becoming sensitive skin.

“Are you okay?” The question surprised me, a small shake of my head I force my eyes back into focus and look down at him. He was staring up at me, concerned, our bodies had not stopped moving, and I nodded, appreciating him checking in. “Yeah. M’ great. Why?”

“You’re just really outta breath.” He laughed and shit, he was right. My breathing was extremely laboured, I tried to reign it in and instead of confirming with him that yes I was fine, I decided a much better move was to shut him up a different way. My mouth was back on him and I ground down the hardest I had yet, and the shocked groan he let out into my mouth was immensely satisfying.

I was surprised to realize how much I enjoyed this, the feeling of his hands gripping my ass, kneading it more and more roughly as the grinding of my hips slowly increased. I moaned into his mouth, fingers moving to his hair and knotting in the strands, gripping and just tugging at it desperately, my hips rolling down a little harder, meeting him in the middle.

The action pulled another groan out of him, hands moving to my waist to force myself against him, halting for just a moment. I’d never felt like this before, suddenly understanding why in high school everyone was at it at any given opportunity.

I pulled back, looking down at his face impatiently and a smile broke across his face, fingers dancing underneath my shirt as he said softly, “Feel good?”

“I did, then you stopped.” I complained. I could feel myself pulsing, clenching desperately around nothing for more contact. I could feel him throbbing from between the thin material of his pants, so hard beneath me, it was making me insatiable.

“I just need- a second. You’re driving me fucking crazy here, Dahlia.” He breathed, voice a little strained and the fact I did that to him, made him sound like that, caused him to struggle to maintain his composure, made me feel a weird sense of pride and arousal mixing low in my stomach.

It gave me a second to catch my breath, but it wasn’t long. Before I could even think, his arms completely wrapped around me, briefly picking me up and making me let out a surprised squeal as he moved me underneath him, climbing on top of me and hoisting my legs around his waist, quickly asking, “Is this okay?” As one hand pressed against my hip and the other weaved into my hair, grasping the soft strands between his long fingers gently.

I nodded, pushing my hips up eagerly, and he let out a small laugh, head moving down, so his lips grazed my collarbone as he pushed himself against me. I could feel the length of him rubbing against my covered clit, nudging and pressing against it a little harsher than before. My head fell back against the arm of his couch and I let out a loud moan, surprising even myself at the volume, but that only seemed to encourage him, especially when I shakily breathed, “Fuck, Mickey,” into his ear, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

His hands moved from my waist and in between us, pushing my legs open for him by my inner thigh as he continued to move against me, grinding faster, almost desperately as his lips moved to my ear, whispering to me softly, “You’re so fucking good, so perfect, I can’t believe I get to be the first person to make your pretty little pussy cum.”

The feeling building up inside of me was something I’d never felt before. Hearing him speak, knowing that him being the first person to get me off was such a turn on to him, it was for me too. I could feel myself growing even wetter, impossibly so, my panties drenched so much that I knew he could probably feel the dampness through the thin layer of material covering him, and he could most definitely feel the heat.

His hand further pressed on my inner thigh more firmly, I could feel myself coming to an unfamiliar edge as my back began to arch off his couch, my legs itching wider for him as he rubbed and ground his clothed cock against my covered pussy, the sensation of my clit being pressed against with such pressure that I felt myself explode, gasping his name over and over again into his ear as though it was a prayer as my body began to spasm. My leg that wasn’t being pressed down kicking out to wrap around his waist, pulling myself as close to him as I could as my manicured fingernails digging into his back under his shirt sharply, causing him to let out a small hiss, cursing under his breath, the sensation sending him cussing. He was fucking himself against me only a couple more times before I felt the sudden hot spurt of liquid come through his pants and seep through his own clothes and into mine with a groan of my name into my throat as his hips slowly came to a stop.

It was insanely quiet for a moment, only the sounds of my almost laboured breathing and his own before he slowly pulled his head from the crook of my neck to look at me, lifting a hand to swipe his thumb over my cheekbone. I forced my eyes open, looking into his eyes and saw the smile on his face, making me break into one myself as I breathed out, “What?”

“You’re just… You’re so beautiful.” He spoke so softly as he repeated what he said earlier, but it felt different. In the new context after what we just did, the words had more weight, felt heavier but made me feel lighter, heart beating hard in my rib cage.

Mickey’s eyes were scanning over my face as he spoke. His cheeks were deeply flushed, his hair even messier than usual, and his pupils dilated. I could only guess I looked somewhat similar to him. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and forehead with sweat, the fire in my stomach burning out nicely as my smile widened, and I moved my face to his, kissing him softly before letting my head fall back again.

“Are you okay? Was that your first-“

“I’m fine.” I answered his first question before laughing a little with a roll of my eyes and interrupting him, “God, no. I’ve done it to myself, but it was never, you know, like this.” I interrupted with a laugh. As he slowly sat up, I noticed him flinch slightly, and I moved up with him, a little confused, until he laughed, touching his back and pulling his hand away. I was surprised to see the crimson staining the tips of his fingers and I questioned him, concerned, “You’re bleeding?” Before reaching behind him to lift his shirt, eyes widening as I saw the mess of his back.

“Kinky little bitch in the making, aren’t you?” He laughed.

“Fuck, Mickey, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” I began rambling apologies to him, feeling guilty and embarrassed, but he just looked at me like I was insane, a baffled expression on his face as he pushed some loose hair off his forehead.

“You’re sorry for what? Scratching my back?” He asked, genuinely curious and amused.

“Well, yeah.” It was my turn to look confused as I stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, “I hurt you.”

“Dahlia,” Mickey turned back round, wiping his middle and forefinger together until the blood disappeared and then moving his hands toward my face, fixing some of my messy curls back into place before placing them on either side of my face, making me look at him with that amused but affectionate smile still on his face as he said, “Don’t be stupid, you could never hurt me.”

Read Chapter Ten HERE

[answermywearyquery]

JCS Lyrics Help Wanted

Jesus Christ Superstar (2005 Amstetten) - Superstar (Drew Sarich)

So… I'm working on a funny (or hopefully entertaining) Jesus Christ Superstar video*, and for that I've been trying to transcribe the unique lyrics of this performance, but I'm struggling with it. So, if anyone has the lyrics or would like to help, it would've be greatly appreciated. Under the Keep reading I have the transcription of the lyrics as I heard it , where I marked the parts I'm unsure about. So if you feel like it, please feel free to comment or DM about it. You'll help will be appreciated so-so much and, hopefully, commemorated if/when I finish the video. Thanks in advance! 💖🥰

*See how ✨incredibly✨ funny I've had been about JCS in the past.

I have a Google Document version of it too, if that's easier for any kind helper to comment on!

EDIT: A lovely anon helped tweaking the lyrics, we are only missing a few words now!

Judas Angels Lyrics I'm not sure about Parts I don't understand/hear/comprehend Comments

Ev'ry time I look at you I don't understand Why you let the things you did Get so out of hand

You'd've managed better If you'd had it planned Why'd you choose such a backward time And such a strange land?

If you'd come today You would have reached a whole nation Israel in 4 BC Had no mass communication

(Don't you get me wrong) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong, now) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong, now) Don't you get me wrong

(Only wanna know) Only wanna know (Only wanna know, now) Only wanna know (Only wanna know) I only wanna know (Only wanna know, now)

Jesus Christ Jesus Christ Who are you? What have you sacrificed? Who are you? What have you… Jesus Christ … sacrificed? Jesus Christ Who are you? What have you sacrificed? Jesus

Jesus Christ Superstar Do you think you're what they say you are? Jesus Christ Superstar Do you think you're what they say you are? Hold that pose, baby.

Tell me what you think About your friends at the top Who d'ya think beside yourself Was a pick of the crop?

Now, Buddha was he where it's at? Is he where you are? Could Muhammad move a mountain Or was that just PR?

Did you mean to die like that? Was that a mistake or Did you mean your messy death To be a record breaker?

(Don't you get me wrong) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong, now) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong) Don't you get me wrong (Don't you get me wrong, now)

I only (Only wanna know) Want to know (Only wanna know, now) What you know (Only wanna know) I only wanna know (Only wanna know, now)

Jesus Christ Jesus Christ So, what's the buzz, baby? Who are you? What have you sacrificed? Tell me… Jesus Christ …what's-a happening? Jesus Christ Who are you? What have you sacrificed? Whooooo!

Jesus Christ Superstar Is your big day… coming soon? Do you think you're what they say you are? Jesus Christ Superstar Do you think you're what they say you are? Well, say you love me now, Jesus. (Lovely anon suggested it's: "Well, do you love me now, Jesus?)

I only wanna know. So, tell me. Tell me, don't get me wrong. I only wanna know. ___________ ___________, Christ.

Who are you, What have you… sacrificed? Hey-hey-hey-hey, yeah! Yeah! Open your mouth, boy!

And tell me, Don't get me wrong, I only wanna know, Jesus-Jesus, Jesus Christ Who are you, What have you… sacrificed?

I'm asking you nicely! Are you, Are you what they say you are?

[I know the angels/background singers sing in the last part of the song too, but I didn't bother with that, seemed redundant. If you got this far I already thank you, pls help if you can, feel free to correct any part. Thank you, kudos!]