#yeah i’m sad can you tell lmao

[leakyweep]

cora's hand ran through your hair gently, his fingernails gently dragging against your scalp. the motion was soothing; and it was much needed after the long day you had. you were exhausted; physically and mentally. every little sound made you jump, your chest was tense and sore from the anxiety of it all, and you just wanted to lay in a hole and sleep for the rest of the week.

corazon was a master personality detector; something he learned living with a brother such as his. so, when you arrived home and barely even responded to his "i miss you", it made him worry. he had immediately taken you to bed, enveloping you in love and support and comfort.

he whispered in your ear, things that made your teeth rot of sweetness and sugar. he told you about how beautiful you were to him; how strong you were; and how amazing of a partner you are to him. he talked about future plans- going to theme parks, taking walks on the beach, getting married…

corazon was always your comfort person. he always knew how to make you feel warm and fuzzy. he kissed your head gently, swiping your silent tears away with his thumbs, or even bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss the tears away.

at the end of the day, even through anxiety and exhaustion, you knew he’d be there for you, no matter what, waiting to take care of you.

“i love you…” he whispered into your lips, his adoring gaze piercing your own tired one. you nodded, bringing a hand to his cheek.

“i love you too, rosi…”

[kavehater]

I mean this from a social perspective not a health one : why does everything feel weird right now. Like yes I’m heartbroken about the reality of my position in the lives of my so called friends but now I just feel confused. I don’t understand why I’m not important and why I can’t change to be important to others, nor what makes a person important either.

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

��But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[moonstruckme]

It is I, person who asked about the bad car crash one. I have read the one you said! And while yes I think the car crash you described is bad I was wondering if you could do one that's... Worse-? Idk 😅 if not I totally understand lmao.

No I think I get you, thanks for requesting and hope you like it!

cw: car accident, concussion, mention of blood, I already know this is not very accurate, but I did not have it in me to do all the research when I wrote this. Sorry and hope it doesn’t hinder your reading experience </3

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Your own breaths are the loudest sound, which can’t be right. Surely there should be alarms, or screaming, or something. Up until a second ago, the screeching of tires and metal was loud enough to deafen you. 

Your car door squeaks brokenly, a sad echo of the racket from before. The air around you shifts as it comes open, and a moment later there are cold fingers pressing into your jaw. 

You make a low whining sound. “Hey,” you complain. Your lips move oddly, murmuring where you mean to speak. 

“Hi,” a voice behind you replies smoothly. “I’m Sirius, I’m with NHS. Is your neck or back hurting at all, gorgeous?” 

“No. You’re cold.” 

“Lovely. This is my friend Remus, he’s going to push on your hands.” 

A head appears in front of you, upside down and shooting an exasperated look towards the disembodied voice. You don’t understand how these people are moving around so quickly, without you noticing them coming. 

“Hello.” The other man’s—Remus’—gaze softens as he meets your eyes. “Can you tell me if you feel this?” He prods at your hand. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your heart is starting to move in your chest, thudding against your ribs like it wants to hurt you. 

“Alright. Can you try pushing up on my hands, please?”

You do. He nods approvingly, giving you a little smile. 

“Good girl. We’re good, Sirius.” 

The cold hands release your face, and you breathe a sigh of relief. It makes your chest ache dully. 

“Beautiful. We ready to move?” 

“Yup.” That’s a third voice, distinct from the others and somewhere you can’t see it. “We’re all set.” 

“Let me just—” Remus’ hands come up around your waist and back, his grip firm, near to bruising. “Okay, I’ve got her. We’re going to unbuckle you and lift you out, okay? Just stay nice and still for us.” 

You’re confused as to what he means, but apparently your silence is consent enough. You feel the buckle of your seatbelt click, and then you’re falling up, Remus’ hold tightening further as he stops your ascent to lift you sideways. 

It’s not until you’re out of the car that you realize you were upside down. Your head feels better, though not by much, and the sun glares at you like it’s punishing you for a wrong you don’t remember having committed. Your arm, suddenly and to your horrified surprise, is in agony. 

A pitchy scraping sound tears from your throat, what would have been a scream if you had the air for one. 

“Here we go, just—yeah—” the third voice speaks as something comes up under your back. “There we are. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“We’ll get you on pain meds in just a second, doll,” Sirius promises. Someone adjusts your legs so they’re both on the cot, careful of your searing arm, and then you’re moving, the sky shifting above you until you’re looking up at a gray ceiling instead. Time is an odd, fluid thing, marked only by actions and various pains. 

“When did you get here?” you mutter, to no one in particular. 

The third voice is the one to answer you. It’s accompanied by a thick pair of glasses and a sweet face, eyes flickering between you and some equipment he’s messing with. “Just a few minutes ago.” 

“I don’t…I didn’t hear the sirens.” 

He smiles like you’re funny. “Yeah, I think you might’ve been unconscious for that part.” 

You wrack your brain. You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the screeching on the road and then being in your car. Then again, you feel half as though you could be dreaming right now. 

Something sharp bites into your hand. You whimper, the pain small but only adding to every other hurt that’s already far over your threshold. 

“I know,” Sirius shushes you, sticking something to your hand. “I know, babe, but this is going to help soon. You’ll see.” 

“So far I’ve got a concussion, open fracture of the wrist, several lacerations to the face and chest, and bruising around the knees.” Remus’ voice is an odd combination of soft and businesslike. You have a creeping sensation he’s talking about you. “Am I missing anything?” 

“Possible bruising around the chest,” Sirius says. “She was breathing funny earlier.” 

“Right. Hey, love,” Remus voice gentles as he addresses you, “I’m going to move your shirt down to see if your chest is hurt, alright? I’ll be careful, it won’t take long.” 

“Okay,” you manage weakly. 

“Thank you.” He uses both hands to stretch the collar of your shirt, tutting quietly to himself at whatever he sees. He lifts a stethoscope from around his neck, rubbing the metal on his hand for a moment before setting it to your chest. 

You don’t know what he’s listening for, but you’re distracted when the third paramedic—the one with the glasses—starts running what feels like a wet wipe over your forehead. 

“Just cleaning you up a bit,” he says brightly. “Figure we ought to have you looking your best for whoever ends up stitching you up, yeah?” 

“James.” Sirius’ tone is somewhere between chiding and joking and fond, an entanglement of meanings you quite can’t wrap your pounding head around. “Don’t talk like she’s not already stunning. You can hardly improve upon perfection.” 

“Too true,” the other boy agrees readily. 

“Take a breath in for me, please,” says Remus, seemingly ignoring the other two and seemingly also used to doing so. “Just as deep as you can.” 

You try. You do your best, and as your lungs expand the dull ache worsens and worsens until a sharp pain pierces your middle. The air whooshes out of you in a dry sob. 

The stethoscope leaves your skin, and Remus fixes your shirt collar, putting it back in place. Your chest radiates a terrible, throbbing hurt. 

“It’s okay,” James says. His finger brushes your cheek, swiping at wetness you didn’t realize was there. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.” 

“At least a couple of broken ribs,” you hear Remus mutter to the others. Somehow, impossibly, it makes the pain worsen. 

“What’s happening?” you choke out. 

“You’re in an ambulance,” James tells you kindly. “You were in a car accident, and I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but we’re here to take care of you. We’re going to make sure you’re okay, and then get you to the hospital so they can finish fixing you up. You’ll be alright.” 

The explanation takes you a while to process, but even then your tears don’t seem to want to slow. Your chest pangs with each hitch in your breathing. Eventually Sirius starts talking you through taking slower breaths, trying to calm you down. 

Someone wipes at your face with a small square. It stings, and it comes away light red with your blood and tears. 

“I know it’s scary,” Remus murmurs, “but you’ve already done so, so well. We only have to splint your arm so it doesn’t move and clean some of your bigger cuts, and then we can go to the hospital. Can you let us do that, please? Will you be okay?” 

You take in a ragged breath. “Yeah,” you reply. 

“There we are.” James takes your head between his hands. Something about his grip reassures you. He touches his lips to your forehead, like it’s natural, like it’s nothing. “You’ve got this, sweetheart. Just need you to be brave for us a little while longer.”

[gayabeilles]

idk I would definitely agree that the precedent is there for hell to already have established radio stations by the time Al died—as you’ve mentioned, even with a bit of a lag in hellish technology, the timeline is still very accommodating. for a little more context, the oldest stations (it’s a matter of some debate which is actually The Oldest lol) began regular broadcasting in the mid 1910s; one of those, 9XM (based out of my current institution!), started broadcasting weather reports in morse code in 1915 as a public service. during ww1 all civilian radio use was banned, only lifted in october of 1919; 9XM resumed their weather reports but it took until 1921 to start doing audio broadcasts since they were making their own radio tubes, glassblowing them and everything. at that point, they added music (live and recorded) to their schedule, soon followed by educational programs (e.g. School/College of the Air and Chapter A Day) and reports on university sports and news. so, even by the early to mid 20s, there’s quite a bit of variety already very well established.

also touching on the titanic thing—there is a popular (and almost certainly false) story that on the mainland the first person who happened to pick up the distress call was none other than one young David Sarnoff, who went on to become the president of the Radio Corporation of America (RCA). this is thought to be highly embellished by Sarnoff himself, though, who told the tale some eleven years after the event. however, he did help to coordinate rescue efforts from the Wanamaker station shortly after, and his team released the names of the survivors. regardless of the veracity of the story, though, he was an early proponent of radio as a medium of entertainment rather than communication, and was one of the early giants of the field.

speaking of Sarnoff, actually, he’s the reason for the delay in frequency modulation really being available to the public until the 40s—the notorious rivalry with Armstrong really developed as Sarnoff started getting interested in more lucrative ventures (television) since at their hearts the former was an inventor seeking to improve the existing medium and the latter was an entrepreneur. funnily enough, Armstrong invented his FM circuit in 1933, which drastically reduced the static that plagues AM. Sarnoff was by then already pursuing commercializing early television sets, and engaged Armstrong in a fierce and drawn-out legal battle because he was worried his own AM-based empire at RCA would be swept out from under him (plus he used the FCC to effectively steal FM from Armstrong for his own use). this is some years beyond what y’all are talking about, but my point here is just to add that Al would (at minimum for the first decade or so) be exclusively broadcasting in AM, though he might’ve made the transition to FM later on as it did have a remarkable improvement in reception (although to my knowledge AM remained dominant until the 70s). hope there weren’t any storms down in wrath during his shows lol or else even screams could just be drowned out by static.

how long do we think it took for alastor to come clean about being the radio demon. months? years? how long was this man terrorizing everyone anonymously before he finally caved to the desire to be recognized for his hard work

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃

I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.

Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.

A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀

Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.

When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.

He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.

“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”

“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.

Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”

“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.

“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.

“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”

You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.

“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”

“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.

“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.

“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”

You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.

“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”

You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.

“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.

“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.

“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”

That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.

You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.

He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.

Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.

“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”

You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.

You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.

“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”

He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.

“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.

“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”

You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.

“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”

You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.

“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”

Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”

“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”

“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.

“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn���t help with all this.”

You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.

“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”

“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”

You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”

“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.

“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.

“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”

“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.

“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”

He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.

“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.

“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”

“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.

“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”

“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.

“Not at all.”

You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.

“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.

“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”

“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”

“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”

“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”

You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.

“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.

“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”

You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”

The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.

He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.

After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.

You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.

It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.

“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”

Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”

“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”

“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”

“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”

You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.

“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.

You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.

His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.

You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”

“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”

You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”

“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”

“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”

“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”

“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”

“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”

“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”

You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.

“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.

You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.

“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.

“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.

You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.

“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.

“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”

“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”

“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.

“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.

“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”

You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.

“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”

You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.

“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”

“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.

The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.

“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.

You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.

“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.

“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”

“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.

You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.

“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”

“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”

You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”

You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.

“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.

“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Thanks, dude.”

Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.

He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.

“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.

His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.

“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.

His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.

He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.

“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”

He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”

“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”

“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.

“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”

“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.

He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.

“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.

You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.

“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.

He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.

He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.

“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”

“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.

You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.

“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”

You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

august 2024 episode of octavinelle + 4koma update

You know the drill by now!

Spoilers for the 4koma and the Episode of Octavinelle chapter 12 below the cut. As a reminder, the Episode of Savanaclaw won’t be updating again until winter.

🫵 THERE THEY ARE…

THE SMOOTH CRIMINALS…

The poses in this opening page are so good; Leona sat all lax like a boss who knows who’s large and in charge, Ruggie leaning against the chair and swinging the keys to the vault around on one finger… The posing perfectly captures their personalities and roles in relationship to one another.

Once again, Azul makes many fantastically desperate and despair-filled expressions this installment 😭

Falling to his knees???? Laying flat on the floor??? Man is UNMATCHED when it comes to theatrics.

I like this shot of Azul and Leona’s gazes lining up; it really helps give you the sense of two rivals sizing each other up.

(Side note: you can also tell how much painstaking detail the artists went through to include their eye makeup in these close-ups. Hats off to them for the extra effort, it looks great!)

… WHY DiD THEY hAvFTA mAkE HIM So smUGHERE 💀

damn i wish i was that stack of contracts

… I mean what

sorry

Sorry

SORRY

I got distracted there, what were we talking about again????

AYO they always make Leona casting King’s Roar look so darn cool in the manga 😭

My favorite panel in this sequence has to be the one with the text bubbles. He looks so nonchalant and a little stern as he speaks the chant… The shadows on his face add a lot to the atmosphere of it!

This chapter is the part where Leona gets to sanding Azul’s hard work away! Look at how beautifully drawn Azul’s reaction is ✨

The particle-y effect of the contracts melting into sand is nice 😌 It feeds Azul’s tears… Tasty meal…

MOU YADA IN MANGA FORM IS PEAK

lmao Azul for real threw a tantrum, flailing his limbs and everything 🤡 Love that even Leona and Ruggie have NO idea how they should respond to this.

Oh no, here comes the OB…

The anguish Azul’s experiencing is really coming through. He’s sweating so much and his entire face is so. Er… for lack of a better term, twisted.

I think seeing the blot leaking out from each of them helps to illustrate that they’re truly being overwhelmed and consumed by their own inner darkness. It’s sad to see 😔

We cut back to Yuuta and co. squaring off against the twins!

I wanted to point out and comment on these parts with Jack. He’s not a character that I usually pay much attention to, but I gotta commend him for fighting back so hard and trying to shield the picture even when he’s clearly got no chance of winning. Jack bearing his fangs at Floyd with pupils contracted… 🫶 Very good and loyal pupper! I get the Jack appeal now, lol

I LOVE THIS

It reminds me of the similar Azul-Leona framing earlier in the chapter, though with a different context. I like that this shows how the twins are in sync and coming to the same terrible conclusion.

Not long after, they rush to Azul’s side—which makes me think that these two worry for his wellbeing 😭 THEY DONmT SAY IT OUT LOUD BUT THEY CARE

Oh yeah, here it comes… OB Azul has arrived!! 👀

I MEAN YEAH it’s not good for his health, but I’m so hyped for the battle and flashbacks to his childhood! Baby!Azul shall NOT escape our sight…

The 4koma this month centers on Jack, Vargas, and others (Jade, Kalim, Deuce) talking about using transformation magic for racing.

dhejeveiwhwuow I would say more, but I actually didn’t find this 4koma that remarkable. It’s a generally the boys chatting about animals and their different activities they excel at.

[paranoiddreams]

Hello! It's currently Halloween where I am, so what about reader taking any of the JJK men to Halloween Horror night where they get chased by clowns and all kinds of creepy cosplay. 100 points if any of them scream like a girl or puff up like a cat.

You can choose which JJK men. 😊

Happy Halloween 🎃

SCREAM! (HC)

🎃 [Inc.] Satoru, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi

🎃 Warnings!! - fem!reader, some swearing, descriptions of (fake) blood/gore, movies/shows like The Exorcist, Chucky, Stranger Things, The Last of Us, Beetlejuice, and The Haunting of Hill House, cocky Satoru (what’s new), Megumi’s is terribly sweet, lol, Yuji’s is actually a lil sad I didn’t intent that lmao

🎃 A/n!! - Hello!!! Thank you so much for the ask, I’m currently working on another ask, but thought that I should get this one out before Halloween ends! If I don’t manage to, I’m sincerely sorry, but I hope you enjoy this anyways! I also haven’t been to any of the haunted houses I mention, so if the experience is inaccurate I apologize hehe. Have a happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates it, and a wonderful night to everyone who doesn’t!🫶🏻🤍

🍡Satoru🍡

Satoru is ALL FOR the idea

In fact, he was the one who brought it up. 

Going to a theme park to get a good scare, AND have his girlfriend cling to his arm the whole night?

That’s a plan if he’s ever heard one. 

“You can hold onto me if you get scared, love~”

Y/n looks up at Satoru, a smile playing on her lips. “Me? Are you sure you won’t get scared, Toru?”

Satoru laughs, waving off the idea with his hand. “You kidding, love?! I’m the strongest, how could I get scared?”

He’s eating his words by the third haunted house. 

The first was alright, just an alien invasion walk through, which he found himself practically flying through. 

You, in the other hand, took his offer to your advantage, and held onto his arm every time a slimy animatronic creature popped out of the wall. 

“Don’t look so smug, Toru,” y/n scoffs as they walk out of the first haunted house, her heart still racing a bit. 

“I don’t even need my 6 eyes to tell that you’re scared, baby! It’s okay to admit I was right—I usually am,” Satoru smiles, leaning down to kiss her cheek, only to be met with a scowl. 

“Whatever…”

Boy are you happy when you both enter an exorcist themed haunted house, and Satoru’s body stiffens significantly beside you. 

It’s dark, and thick fog fills the house as you both walk through. 

There’s screaming and growling in the distance, which seems to move around the house. 

You’re holding onto Satoru’s arm even tighter, but his smug smile is nowhere to be seen.

The last room of the house comes into view, a wave of relief washing over the couple as they walk eagerly to the door. 

When Satoru twists the handle, the old wood creaking loudly, an actor dressed as a priest jumps out. 

“Help! Help!” The man screams, his white collar stained with blood. He’s then seemingly dragged to the side of the room, a growl emitting from the corner. 

Satoru walks hesitantly inside, y/n clinging to his side. Another actor, a little girl resembling the same one in the movie this house took inspiration from, is standing over the priest, blood and black liquid dripping from her mouth. 

Y/n screams, running towards the exit on the other side of the room. She drags Satoru along, his face pale and frozen in fear. 

Yk the face Satoru pulled when he first met Megumi? 

Yeah, that’s what he looks like when you both leave the haunted house. 

He can feel his heart beating rapidly, but puts on a brave face for you, of course. 

That is, until the third, and last house of the night. 

You insisted, since the haunt was based off of the show “The Last of Us”, and you both had watched it earlier that year

But little did you know, Satoru was nervously biting the inside of his cheek each episode.

But how could he say no to you when you looked so sweet, looking up at him with those adorable eyes of yours???

“Last one. It’s…getting late.”

Y/n looks up at Satoru as they both walk towards the, apparently, last house of the night. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Satoru Gojo,” she smiles, reaching a finger up to poke his cheek. 

He grabs her hand, stopping her from touching his face. “Don’t tease me, love, you can’t talk,” he says, putting her finger between his teeth. 

“Shut up!” Y/n pouts, pulling her finger back. 

“Trust me, you’re going to want to leave after this one,” Satoru says, looking up at the large haunted attraction they’re about to enter. 

Satoru thinks he’s got everything together when you first walk in, more interested in the set they’ve built and how accurate it is to the show

Until the first clicker pops out and he’s brought back to the scenes of the show that made him nearly jump off of the couch. 

He quite literally screams like a little girl, his mask falling off, which only blinds the actor decorated in the costume that scared Satoru in the first place. 

Now they’re both screaming, and you’re off to the side with a shell-shocked expression, wondering to yourself how this even happened. 

“Baby…don’t be mad, please?”

“Satoru…” you grumble, looking out the window of his car, “we’re banned for life…”

“Honestly…” he sighs, “wasn’t even thinking of going back after that.”

Y/n glares at him from the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest. But when she remembers the screams of her boyfriend, the actor, and a little boy behind them who happened to witness the incident, a snort escapes her lips. 

“You’re such a dork,” she laughs, leaning over the center console to grab his hand, kissing his knuckles. “I didn’t want to go back after the first house anyways.”

🫀Sukuna🫀

He is not amused one bit.

Why the hell would humans create a whole event just to dress up and scare themselves? It’s stupid!

But when you ask him so sweetly to attend with you, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

“This night will be a waste of time,” Sukuna grumbles down at y/n as they walk around the crowded amusement park, actors dressed as demons, vampires, clowns, and zombies jumping out to scare people.

When one of them, a man in an elaborate clown getup, comes up screaming, honking a horn in y/n’s face, Sukuna can feel his anger boil. It takes every ounce of his cursed-being, and a harsh squeeze of his hand from his girlfriend, for him to compose himself and walk away.

“Sukuna, do not—“

“What were they thinking?! Getting in your face, invading your space like that!” He grumbles, his hand still in y/n’s. “Assholes…”

You decide to take him into a haunted house, hoping it’ll be a little less invasive.

There are various options every year, but you’re happy that this year includes a movie you both watched, and Sukuna didn’t seem too annoyed by:

Beetlejuice.

He even chuckled a few times!

“Oh? That movie? Yes, I remember,” Sukuna says, recounting the movie as soon as y/n points to the cryptic house in the distance.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much effort for her to take him inside of the attraction; he was practically the one dragging her in, actually.

With a wicked smile, Sukuna looks at the surroundings of the house as music blares through hidden speakers, the familiar purple and green theme of the movie throughout. He holds y/n’s hand while walking through the halls, seemingly unfazed by the actor leading them through, and the animatronics jumping out at every corner to scare them.

He starts to feel his distaste for ‘frivolous human events’ quickly turns to amusement when y/n practically clings to him even more throughout the house. Every jumpscare, loud noise, or enthusiastic actor that pops out and sends waves of fear through her body no longer gets a death stare from Sukuna; rather, he finds himself laughing at the little effort it takes his girlfriend, relishing in the feeling of priority he gets every time she squeezes his fingers or bicep.

When they come towards the end of the house, and the infamous character of Beetlejuice comes out himself, y/n is initially really giddy and pulling Sukuna towards him to take a picture.

But when they go, one of the huge, iconic sandworms from the movie pops out in front of them. That, including the cackling laughs of the actor portraying Beetlejuice, elicit a horrified scream from y/n, while Sukuna is openly chuckling as she pulls him out.

He’s shaking his head as you both leave, but can’t help the small smile on his face when he looks down to see you still holding onto his muscular arm.

You’re even laughing now, telling him how much of a thrill that was.

He thinks he’s starting to understand why humans come to places like this by the time the moon has risen high in the sky, and a glint of exhaustion sparkles in your eyes.

As the car drives down the nearly empty highway, soft music playing from the radio, y/n leans her head on the window. Her eyes flutter closed every few moments, the memories of that night flashing in her mind.

“Hey, brat,” sukuna calls softly from the driver’s seat, his hand gripping the steering wheel, “you’re that tired, huh?”

Y/n lifts her head, looking over at her boyfriend in the sliver of moonlight pouring through his window.

“Yeah,” she hums, resting her hand atop his on the center console, “I had a lot of find today, Kuna.”

Sukuna thinks about suppressing his smile as he usually does, but when he looks over at y/n and sees her sleepy eyes, he can’t. She won’t even remember this tomorrow, he thinks.

“I did too, surprisingly.”

Y/n lifts her head slightly, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “You did?” She asks. “You really did?”

“I really did,” Sukuna sighs, looking at the road ahead. “Human’s aren’t entirely stupid, I suppose; but the whole Halloween tradition is still meaningless to me.”

Y/n giggles, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “So you’ll go with me again next year?”

Sukuna turns his head to look at her, a flash of amusement in his eyes. She wants to go again?

“Silly girl,” he smiles, lifting her hand up to his lips, “you want to indulge in something that made you shake in terror again?”

Y/n shrugs her shoulders, blushing a bit at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

“You scare me, but I come back to you every night, don’t I?”

“Hmm…you’re very right, little lamb.”

⭐️Yuji⭐️

Another boy who’s all for it

He’s actually been to many Halloween themed parks ever since he was a kid, his grandpa usually taking him. 

“He was a sucker for a good scare!” He’d tell you, an enthusiastic smile on his face. 

Sobbing and crying. 

So ofc, you’re putting on your bravest face the whole time in order not to ruin his night. 

“Babe! Babe! Look, there’s a house for stranger things! And the Exorcist, annnnd Chucky! We have to go to the Chucky one, please baby?!”

Y/n, looking around with a subtle sweat building at her hairline, sends him the best smile she can. “Y-yeah! Let’s go, Yuj…”

Yuji takes his girlfriend’s hand, dragging her along like a kid in a candy store. He points out each detail of the park, screaming and cackling every time an actor jumps out to scare both of them. 

Y/n on the other hand…is a mess on the inside. She uses every ounce of her being to put on a smile, and force out those breathy-fake laughs she hates doing so much. 

But it’s all worth it each time she sees Yuji’s perfect smile, or hears his infectious laugh. 

Yuji drags you to the Chucky attraction first, a giddy pep to his step. 

You’re trying not to shake too much as screaming and music boom from inside the house, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand tightly. 

But of course, your sweet, sweet baby Yuji only takes this as your equal excitement, dragging you faster towards the house. 

The walls are painted bright shades of yellow, red, blue, and decorated with various pictures of the doll the house is based on, music and childish laughter flowing through the speakers hidden throughout. 

“Woah! Look at how elaborate this place is!” Yuji couldn’t be more excited, looking around with his big, curious, brown eyes, and a smile. 

But y/n, she can only focus on the anxiety creeping up her spine as they walk through the maze-like halls, a constant feeling of fear nagging at her. She tries to shove it down, but each and every time the red-headed demonic doll pops out of the walls or paintings, she can’t help but scream like a little girl. 

Yuji doesn’t really notice, too busy screaming and laughing himself; only, he’s thrilled to have the constant rush of fear flowing through him. 

Y/n, standing next to him and squeezing his hand, is starting to chip away at her pride and confidence. 

It isn’t until the stranger things haunted house that Yuji realizes something is wrong with the way you’re acting. 

Throughout the first half of the tour, you seem fine, gazing at the LED lights and elaborate set pieces that are so similar to the show

But when the first loud bang, and cloud of thick fog, rolls in, he can practically feel you shaking next to him. 

“Baby…are you okay?”

Y/n looks up, Yuji’s face illuminated by the red LED lights surrounding them. “Yeah, what are you talking about, Yuji?” She smiles back at him, swinging their arms together in between them as they walk. 

Yuji decides not to push her any further, instead continuing down the twisting halls of the haunted house. 

But when they both turn a corner, and a large demogorgon rips through a slimy, grotesque ‘portal’ in the wall, y/n looses all confidence, her terrified state finally coming to fruition. 

This time, Yuji isn’t laughing at the high-tech animatronic jump scares. It takes one glance over at his pretty girlfriend’s face twisted in a genuinely horrified scream for him to pick her up bridal style, and run towards the exit. 

It takes at least five minutes of you reassuring him your fine before he puts you back down lmao

He’s so worried, pressing his fingers to your pulse every few minutes to check if your heart is slowing down. 

He genuinely feels so so bad for not noticing your fear sooner, feeling like the worst boyfriend ever. 

But you assure him it was you who didn’t want to show your fear, putting on a face for him. 

“But…why didn’t you just tell me, y/n? We could’ve left way earlier!”

Y/n looks down at the wooden picnic table they snagged, picking at the decrepit wood. “I know…but you were so excited, and I didn’t want to be a big baby about it.”

Yuji’s heart breaks, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you tightly. “Baby, please, you could never be a big baby about anything,” he says into her hair, “if you’re scared of something, hell, I’m terrified of it. We never have to come back again.”

Y/n pulls away, looking into his eyes. “No, no, Yuji, we can’t! You love this place, we can—“

“No,” yuji pouts dramatically, now acting as if he was the one who was scared out of his mind a minute ago, “I’m scared. I wanna leave.”

“Yuj—“

“Please?”

Yuji looks at y/n with those damn puppy eyes, and she can’t help but laugh. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

Yuji just smiles. “For you, and only you, my looooveeee,” he says, dragging out his words for emphasis. 

As they both walk back to the parking lot, looking for Yuji’s car, y/n looks back at the amusement park in the distance. 

“You sure it’s okay we leave, Yuji? I know you and your grandpa came here every year…”

Yuji stops, his pink hair blowing in the night wind as he looks down at his perfect girlfriend. He smiles, and ruffles the top of her hair. 

“Yeah, well my grandpa would much rather me spend my time with the love of my life than at a stupid theme park that’ll come back next year,” he says wholeheartedly. “He would have loved you more than a stupid tradition.”

🫐Megumi🫐

Okay, be warned, if you take this man to any kind of theme park, he’s GOING to be that nonchalant-doesn’t gaf kinda guy

So when you decide to take him to Halloween Horror Nights, you’re expecting the same kind of behavior from him. 

BUT NO!

This man is on guard from the moment you both get through the gates

He was complaining about how expensive the tickets were, before he stopped and looked around, eyes wide and completely silent. 

“Megs? Are you okay?”

Megumi is too concerned with the man in an elaborate zombie costume a few feet away, his eyes slanted. Y/n recognizes the look in his eyes as the look he has when he senses cursed energy in an area they’re in. 

But when he takes her hand ever so subtly, she knows that isn’t the case. 

“Are you…scared, honey?” She asks in a hushed tone, holding back a laugh. 

Megumi’s azure eyes dart down to hers, his lips forming a thin line. “Y/n…” he says in a warning tone. 

“What?” She exclaims. “I’m a little nervous too, don’t worry baby—“

“I’m not scared.”

That man does not want to admit he’s scared JSHEBSIWVVW

But by the time it gets darker, and you both start walking around more parts of the park, stakes start rising. 

Actors in makeup and costumes jump out and chase you both, eliciting screams and laughs from you, but DEATH STARES from your poor boyfriend🥲

“Megumi! Stop looking at them like that when they scare us!” 

Megumi looks at y/n, an annoyed huff escaping his lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but a man in clown makeup and a colorful-bloody costume slides past them, honking a loud horn in both of their faces. 

Y/n jumps, squeezing Megumi’s hand, while he practically yanks her into his arms, almost resembling a cat when it’s fur puffs up in fear.

“Megs—“

“Let’s go to the ice cream stand.”

He’ll say he wants to get a food item from every food stand you both pass, but in reality he just knows the actors can’t get too close to them there HAHAHAH.

He’ll end up spending all of his money (that Gojo gave him for his ‘little date’) on drinks and food for you both. 

You’re not complaining, thinking it’s cute that your strong-brave-sorcerer boyfriend is scared of humans in costumes. 

That is until he’s down to only a few bucks, and you both know you can’t avoid the park anymore. 

“Megumi, do you want to go back home? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” y/n whispers in her boyfriend’s ear, pulling him into a secluded alley. 

He looks down at her, bringing a soft hand up to her cheek. “Baby, I don’t want to ruin your fun,” he says, genuine guilt in his tone. But she can also sense the anxiety and fear in his touch.

Y/n smiles, putting her hand on the back of his caressing her cheek. “Honey, my night won’t be ruined as long as you’re here with me,” she whispers. “It’s no fun when one of us is having a good time and the other is scared.”

For the first time that night, Megumi smiles, leaning down to kiss y/n’s forehead gratefully. 

“Okay, baby…let’s go home and watch that one movie you wanted to—what was it called?”

Y/n’s eyes light up, an enthusiastic sparkle in them.

“Terrifier!”

Megumi’s faces falls a bit, but being scared by a movie on the couch with his girlfriend is way better than being jumpscared by strangers in costumes.

“Yes, that one.”

Special thanks to @gamer-kat for the amazing request!! Hope you enjoyed ml🩷

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ rainy days

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing, kissing, swearing

a/n: hellooo. so so so sorry for not posting anything, i was on a school trip to rome for a week! brewed this up super quickly, sorry if you can tell it hurried lmao. I LOVE YOUUU ALL

་༘࿐˚⋆ it had been raining constantly the whole day. the gentle patter of rain on the windows created a cozy atmosphere, the dark clouds outside only adding to the feeling of a huge embrace.

most people would find this weather boring or sad, unable to open the windows, or go outside, almost isolating themselves from the outside and social world. opposite to you, you loved this type of weather. being able to allow yourself to snuggle up inside on either your couch or shared bed with matt, you were far from complaining about anything.

་༘࿐˚⋆ your past week had been frantic to say the least. on top of that it felt like it was never coming to a stop. taking extra shifts, having your amount of rude customers tripled, and your meetings seeming endless. there was nothing more you wanted than going home to your boyfriend and waste away the weekend in each other's arms.

you left the sliding doors to your workplace, running to your car to avoid getting too drenched in the hectic weather. you slouched down in the driver's seat, immediately closing the door before unbuttoning your blazer to throw it in the passenger seat beside you.

it took you a second before you turned on the car, checking to see if any mascara had been smudged, using the tiny mirror in the sun visor of your car. the drive home wasn’t too bad. your shift had ended late, so the traffic in boston was bearable, but of course not one hundred percent avoidable due to it being a Friday night.

when you arrived in your driveway you didn’t waste a second to grab your blazer and bag, running inside again to avoid the rain soaking you. the door swung open, closing behind you as you entered the hall. 

“matt, I’m home! finally,” you yelled, taking off your heels, steadying yourself by grabbing onto the wall.  in a matter of a few seconds, matt entered the hall with a blanket wrapped around him.

for a second you just stared at each other, your tired-looking face instantly lighting up into a toothy grin. matt had never looked this cozy or huggable. “hi. sorry, i feel asleep, i look like a mess.” matt mumbled, his voice a little deeper than normally, probably due to his current state. 

you didn’t answer him because deep down you didn’t mind at all. he looked so adorable. taking a few steps forward you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” you whispered into his neck, not planning to let go of him anytime soon.

“what do you mean, i literally saw you this morning?” matt chuckled, fisting his blanket to wrap it around the both of you.

“yeah, but my week has never been this packed. i feel like i haven’t seen you for weeks,” you smile back, even though he couldn’t see it, closing your eyes as you immediately got comfortable from just his touch and presence.

slowly, matt made his way backwards into the living room, careful not to hit any interior, still having his arms and blanket around you.

“don’t worry one bit about it. at least we have the whole weekend to spend together, and then we’ll pray next week is a little different,” matt laughed at his emphasis on ‘pray’, gently removing his arms from around your shoulders to let you sit on the couch.

you collapsed on the couch, immediately throwing your head back in pure exhaustion.

“plus, it’s raining.” matt smiled excitedly, allowing himself to lay his head into your lap. 

you couldn’t hold back your smile, his pure excitement from rain making you blush.

“oh god, i love you so much, matt. but don’t get too comfortable, i need to get out of this skirt.” you giggled, holding onto matt’s jaw as he got up with a fake pout, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.

“and- and then chris said i was pining for you, telling me to stop bitching and whining. so then i went home again and fell asleep. and with god’s grace, you walked into the hall,” matt continued to talk about his day, sitting next to you on the couch.

the rain was still pouring outside. occasionally there would be a thunder or lightning strike, but it only added to the atmosphere. not that weather like this was enjoyable, but both you and matt found it extremely comforting.

“seriously? what the fuck, you went to chris’s place to talk about me?” you laughed, taking another sip of your cup of tea.

you were wearing matt’s pajamas since he refused to let you use your own, a huge, heavy blanket resting around you as you and matt continued on with your conversation.

matt just nodded, taking another sip from his cup to hide his reddening face. there was silence for a bit, but it was comfortable.

 it didn’t last too long, because in the matter of a second, matt was sprawled out on top of you, making you laugh loudly, attempting to push him off of you but still being gentle with your pushing and kicking.

the night ended cuddled up in your shared bed, the curtains shut but the moonlight shining palely through it. one of your hands were under the covers, holding matt’s, the other resting on his cheek. the storm outside seemed to be endless since you could still hear the comforting patter on the windows.

“i love the rain,” you randomly whisper, brushing a few strands of hair out of matt’s eyes with a smile. he smiled back, pecking your forehead with adoration.

“me too. it’s definitely my favorite type of weather, no doubt.” matt whispered back, still playing with your hair.

you nod, shuffling a bit around to get comfortable under the thick covers, but luckily you weren’t too hot or too cold. matt made sure to hold tightly onto your hand, holding you as if you were gonna slip out of his grip.

“but, i love my boyfriend even more,” you said in a sing-song voice, giggling at his face, attempting to look very confused.

“ohh. i wonder who that could be. i haven’t seen you around with a lot of guys recently?” he tried to hold back a laugh, tapping his chin as if he was deeply philosophizing.

you let out a laugh, making matt drop his act to join in on your laughter. he pulled you even closer, if possible, letting you rest your head into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

safe to say, you fell asleep comfortably. nothing but silence, except matt and your’s silent snoring and of course, the rain. it was days like this that made up to your week if it had been tough. tea, rain, blankets, boyfriend, movies, cuddles and kisses.

a/n: ughh when is it fall again? i need itttttt

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby

[hectorthedoggo]

I will put this in ao3 and edit when i have the means to. but. @kani-miso it's 0009 sibs i thought of you and decided to make this 🎀🎀

UPDATE I ACIDENTALLY DELETED THE TAB WITH MY EDITS AO3 is going to kill me

“Alright. Milgram's up.” The creature stayed. Es stayed frozen from where they were sitting on the couch. Oh God. What's the consequences of my verdicts?

Wait. Up? This is Trial 2?

They disregarded that. It must be a mistake.

If these verdicts even are mine, I can’t tell. I've been dreading this. I'm scared. They clutched their arms, trying to gain some warmth, some friction, for what was to happen next.

Jackalope narrowed his eyes at them. “A nervous one, aren't you now. Anyways, so since the administrators decided that you were too unstable, you'll go free. Congrats.

Oh yeah, and the verdicts didn't really have consequences, it was just a little social experiment. It doesn't matter. Good luck surviving in the real world!”

What. What the heck is he talking about? “Wha- What do you mean- Who's the admin- wah!”

They felt a pulling sensation, and suddenly, they were standing in a Walmart™ parking lot. The only other person nearby was Mikoto Kayano.

But, nobody was dead. He was in his original clothes, but. Wait, where are we? What's this big sign that says ‘Walmart’?

What is a Walmart, and where the hell did Milgram go?

They also had a little pack with them, and upon opening it, there was a little message printed out. Nothing else.

‘mikoto is your legal sibling btw. gl lmao be glad I even gave you this note ur probably my favorite warden - Jackalope (professional child neglecter)’

At least the pack looked cool looked cool…

Es was about to have a mental breakdown. Why did Milgram leave me like this? Is this what I am to them?

“Woah, what happened?” Mikoto wondered, “Hey, Es. Did you do this? Is Milgram over? Did they identify it to be a mistake?”

They started shaking. They threw me out like garbage. I…

“Es?”

They sniffled at the situation. I’m… garbage. Because, as my usual logic says, I am what Milgram deems me to be.

“I- I have no idea…” they extended the last vowel to emphasize how little idea they had.

They threw the note on the ground --- or at least tried to, it just flew away, right into Mikoto’s hands ---, and started to sob.

The tables had turned. Mikoto looked like he knew why he was here, Es didn’t (nande boku ga koko ni iruyo). It was genetic.

Meanwhile, Mikoto had gotten the note, and he read it. “Wh- huh?”

He stared over at Es. “Es, this is a mistake, right?”

“That is the least of my worries right now, pudding boy!” they snapped at him, instead channeling their sadness into aggression.

He completely disregarded their feelings, to the point where he might not have even heard them. “Right… my mom did mention that our father got remarried. Wah, Suu! You’re my little sib!”

He went up to their grieving form, and gave them a little fistbump, lifting up their unwilling arm to do so. Why did he do that? Last time we touched, John was beating the shit out of me.

A random car pulled up into the Walmart™ parking lot, and the window unrolled. 

It was a woman with brownish hair, who looked like Mikoto. “Oh, you’re the other sibling that your father was talking about. You two can just get in the back in the car, your sister’s taking shotgun. Nice to meet you!”

Why the fuck does Mikoto’s sister have a shotgun? Are they all like this?

Mikoto followed in with them, and buckled in. Es had no idea what was going on.

They could not find the seatbelt, too busy processing the upheaval of their life in the past 5 minutes.

“Yo, sib. The seatbelt’s over there.” Mikoto smiled and gave a thumbs up, like a reliable older brother. “I saw it.” I did not see it.

They touched it, and got stung by the heat. Their, wait, no, Mikoto’s sister turned back at their sound of pain, turning off her phone. “Ah, yeah. It’s summer, don’t touch it.”

They scowled, forgetting their dread in the face of the overheated car seatbelt.

The car chimed, and the keys jingled. “Alright, folks! You two seem pretty tired from wherever the heck you disappeared to. Would you wanna go home, or get some ice cream?”

The sister turned around, and smiled a little wide. “My dear siblings, do you know the answer? There is a correct one.”

Es scowled. “What the fuck is an ice cream. Why is the cream ice?”

“Are you serious?” She scrutinized their face, finding the truth, “Step on it, Ma.” She went back to her phone, probably texting her friends about this weird kid in a warden outfit that was apparently her sibling now.

Mikoto looked over at Es and shrugged, like a comical cartoon character. Like a ‘what can you do?’.

I won’t allow these insolent- wait, these aren’t prisoners. Unless the sister girl did something with that shotgun of hers. It would run in the family, I guess.

Wait, that would mean that I’m also violent. Nevermind.

The 11th cell came to mind, and they dismissed it. Wrong kinda fic, buddy. We staying fluff here.

“So, Mikoto. And, what’s your name?”

“Es. I think?”

The woman put on her strict mother voice. “... okay. Mikoto and Es. What was so important that you had to completely disappear for like a years. No note! Job gone! You could’ve died, for all I knew! Es, sweetie, I’m sure it was Mikoto’s fault. He’s such a bad influence.”

Es raised their hand to ask a question, slightly flustered from the pet name. She indicated that they could speak.

They decided to just reveal it all. “Um, Mikoto committed murder… eh, Mikoto, he has DID and was stressed from his job, hence the murder. And I was the warden of the prison that held him and 9 others.”

Mikoto lost all of his composure at all of his darkest secrets being revealed, the dramatic guy he was. “What… Es, don’t… I… that’s not… I don’t have DID? I was doing… I was doing just…”

He seemed a little overwhelmed at the prospect of having to unpack all of the luggage that Es laid out, so another guy came out. “I am not straight. Oh- sorry, hi, I’m John. I’m the guy who totally committed the murder 100% trust guys c’mon vote mikoto innocent 2024-”

I already had to deal with that yapping last interrogation. Es shut him up with their hand. He waved it away. “If you’re gonna say that shit about Mikoto, Es hasn’t been going to bed at a healthy time or eating healthy.”

They were betrayed at his reveal. “I can’t believe you.”

“We’re going to fix that, Es. You’re going to get the regular kid treatment.” The mother nodded, eyes steeling. Oh no, not the normal teen treatment!

John had some other stuff going on behind there. Maybe Mikoto’s cheesiness had rubbed off on him. “As soon as we get out of this car I’m giving you a hug.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

Speaking of unwarranted physical contact. “Oh yeah, mo- Mikoto’s mother, um… John beat me up in Trial 1.”

“SNITCH?!”

“What’cha gonna do about it?”

“Give you another hug.” He deviously grinned, knowing that wasn’t the answer they expected or an answer they liked.

“I won’t allow it.” But, they weren’t the warden anymore. They couldn’t deflect affection as well as they used to.

The sister was unbothered by this discourse. Perhaps it hasn’t quite set in. “I guess I got two extra surprise siblings. Cool.”

-

When they got to the ice cream store after a prolonged amount of awkward silence, the moment the car doors opened, the chase was on.

Es nearly ran into oncoming traffic to escape any chance at being loved, as one does, but John grabbed them and lifted them up by their elbows, giving them a hug once they were out of the street.

“Jeez, you’re light. C’mon, we’re getting ice cream and you aren’t gonna kill yourself.”

“‘M not!” They kicked their legs to try and get the man off of them. But, they had about the strength of a 5 week old kitten compared to him, without the claws.

He plopped them down, Es seething about their lack of power they had here.

The sister turned off her phone, finally, and turned to Es. “Okay, I just wanna make sure. Were you joking earlier about not having ice cream before?”

“I’m the prison warden of Milgram, I don’t need-”

She interrupted them before they could start monologuing and crying about how Milgram didn’t exist anymore. “You’re getting Birthday Bash.”

“What- but it’s not my birthday?” It could be, for all I know, but she’s doesn’t have to know that.

“Ok, what is your birthday?” Dammit.

“Great question!” Es stared into space, tone full of sarcasm. Milgram never tells me shit.

“Mikoto or whoever the hell you are, do you know their birthday?”

“Nah.” John responded. “By the way, um, this kid was the one who named me John, because they thought it would be funny to be a know-it-all and reference some English name.”

She looked over at Es. “No offense, but you suck at naming. I think we were all thinking that.” We…

Es tried to defend their horrible naming skills. “What?! Who else was gonna name him?”

Mikoto’s mother decided to join in the conversation, but left after putting her two cents in. “Me. Or Mikoto, since he’s where John came from.”

John smirked. “See, Es! But the name has stuck, so you owe me.”

Es crossed their arms, huffing. “I don’t owe you anything. You beat me up that one time, so if anything, you owe me!”

He couldn’t exactly find a defense for that, so he took their hat off their head and held it as high as he could reach, exposing their hat hair. “Hey!”

They jumped to get it, but to no avail. They looked pathetic.

Meanwhile, Mikoto’s mother and sister had already gone in to order. Order, like what a judge says?

It’s all a law reference.

John grinned. “You're a silly little creature, Suu.”

“You're not Mikoto, stop that.” I do not like that weird ass nickname.

He put on an innocent face. “What do you mean? I'm Mikoto, and I love my company so much! Hahaha, I would never commit murder. This must be a mistake!”

Es was somewhat surprised. “That's stuff he actually said in his first trial, how did you get it so accurately?”

“I hear this guy's internal monologue.”

That’ll do it. “Ah.”

 He threw their hat into the air while they were distracted, and they stepped back in surprise. He caught it. “Nice hat.”

“Get away from-”

The rest of the family brought over ice cream, and Es was handed a mash of colors in theirs that seemed unnatural.

“Is this food?”

“Eat it.” John asserted.

They shrugged. If this is poison, at least I don't have to worry about Milgram and all that stuff.

Worst case scenario, it doesn't kill me and it tastes bad. I'm not sure what my best case scenario is. Dying? It tasting good? We’ll see.

They bit down on the food with aggression, and it tasted… amazing, other than the fact that it was cold.

“What the heck is this? In a good way?” They temporarily forgot about their slight suicidal ideation.

“Bro has never heard of the wonders of overly processed foods…” the sister commented, smirking.

Why is she calling me bro? Huh? If I question her, will she bring out the shotgun? I'm scared of her. She’s my older sister now, isn’t she…

To be honest, Kotoko was scarier. I’ll be fine.

She wasn’t addicted to her phone, though… wait, right. Kotoko kinda was.

They grinned, and momentarily forgot their troubles in the face of their action. I’m so much better than these people. This tastes good. Mmm… ice cream… I like it…

They did get a brain freeze, and brought their hand up to their forehead in pain.

They got their head patted by John, who had somehow consumed his (larger serving of) ice cream. “Do you want the rest of that?”

“Yes?” They answered.

He grabbed a spoon, and took a bite of their ice cream. “Wow, this tastes nice.”

Es disliked the younger sibling experience. “Give me my hat back. I didn’t forget about that.”

“No.” However, he made a mistake: it happened to be in grabbing range. They quickly snatched it, and grinned in pride.

But, while they were distracted with John, they forgot about their other older sibling, who took a sizable amount of their precious ice cream.

I just discovered ice cream. Will they stop stealing it?

-

They were next in a car, making sure to avoid the seatbelt this time. About ⅓ of their ice cream had been usurped, and they didn't have the strength to defend it.

But, it wasn’t that bad. These people are nice…

I… I guess this is my life now? It’s not that bad.

Finally, there were no catches to this fact.

They would have to buy new clothes, the warden outfit was scratchy.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Telepatía

✧.* Request- @cvmtitss

"Hey, my first time requesting you! I was wondering if you could do a joost w a fem reader where she's famous as well and she has a concert but doesn't think joost can make it due to him being busy or she thinks he has a tour and he comes back early without telling her. And so while she's performing the music, either suddenly changes or turns off and then she turns around and sees joost like proposing overall it js seems rlly cute and fluffy ❤️"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Musician! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff

✧.* Summary - Joost proposes to the love of his life while she is performing on stage in front of thousands of fans.

✧.* Extra- The reader's performance will be inspired by Kali Uchis' stage performance at Lollapalooza in Brazil (2023) because i'm obsessed with that fucking performance LMAO but if you guys don't like it, ofc change it up for your own imagination. Also highlighted parts are dutch.

✧.* Word Count - 1,442

It was one of the last tours that (Y/N) was doing and she decided to add the cherry on top in Brazil. She had everything ready to go. Her crew, her outfits, the stage, but she was missing one important thing. Her man. Joost was always there to support (Y/N) at her concerts. Whether it was on stage performing with her or watching her with heart eyes behind the scenes. This time, he was on his own tour in Europe, which was what (Y/N) thought.

It was a couple hours before the show was about to start and (Y/N) was starting to get ready while being on the phone with Joost. l “I’m really sad you aren’t here with me, my love,” she expressed.

She heard Joost softly chuckle on the other line. “I know, honey. I wish I was there with you. I love watching you sing and dance, but this is your last show and I finish mine next week. We’ll see each other soon, very soon, gorgeous.”

(Y/N) was content to hear that. She couldn’t wait to see her lover. “I know, im so excited to see you again. Anyways, I got to go. My stylist just arrived,” She blew him a kiss and ended the call with ‘I love you’ one of the few phrases she knows in dutch.

Mine while, in a small town in Brazil, Joost made a plan to get to where (Y/N) was performing and get on his knee to pop that one particular question he’s been waiting to ask her. He landed there a couple days before (Y/N) was set to perform. He presented his plan to his crew and they immediately were on board to help him. His social media crew helped give the allusion to the media that Joost was still in Europe. He had it all planned out carefully and it was all going smoothly. The only thing getting in his way was time. He had to wait a good couple of hours to sneak into her set.

Joost managed to get (Y/N)’s manager’s number and immediately called him. A couple rings pass by until he heard the sound of the other line getting picked up. “Hello?” he heard the voice of (Y/N)’s manager say.

“Hey, what’s up man, it’s Joost. Can I facetime you real quick?” Joost asked.

“Yeah man,” the manager said. They quickly switched to facetime to talk “face to face” (virtually).

“You will never guess where I am at,” Joost said in a jokingly manner. He turned the camera to a small flag of Brazil and giggled.

“Are you serious? That’s awesome, dude, welcome. Does (Y/N) know you’re here?” the manager asked. Joost turned his camera back on his face and shook his head, saying no.

“No, and we need to keep it that way because…” Joost picked up a small black box and opened it. It revealed beautiful gold ring with the most alluring diamond on top to show the camera.

The manager let out a happy laugh, “That’s fucking awesome, man. Are you going to ask her after her show?”

“No, I’m going to ask her during her show, on stage. And that’s why I called to ask you if you can sneak me on set and not tell her. I want this to be special to her,” Joost replied.

“100% we’ll let you on stage and hide you. (Y/N) is going to love every second of whatever you plan to do. Uh, yeah, alright i’ll alert everyone about the plan and let you know when she arrives at the stadium” the manager said. Joost gave him a quick thank you and goodbye before hanging up the call. He did a small fist pump and smiled. Now the only thing to do was wait.

Seconds gradually turned to minutes, at least that’s what Joost felt. The more he had to wait, the more he was desperate. It felt like the universe was doing that on purpose to test him. It was killing him. He couldn’t wait to see his lover. His beauty. His woman. His everything.

When the time finally hit, Joost practically dashed out his hotel room and jogged towards the elevator. Him and his crew he took got taxis and they were finally on their way to the stadium. The drive was filled with laughter, smiles, and conversations. Joost knew how to light up a room, so him preparing to do one of the best things ever made everything 10 times better. Even the driver was joining in on the good time.

Joost finally made it to the stadium. His heart realized what was about to happen and started beating faster. There was a lot of fans and reporters there that he had to ignore. Joost always loved to talk to his fans but, at that very moment he couldn’t blow his cover. He needed this to be a surprise.

The backstage crew immediately went into action when Joost stepped foot in the stadium backstage. They did everything in their power to hide Joost and distract (Y/N). Joost would watch his girl from a far and fall in love even more. Her beauty always made him fall to his knees.

It was finally time for (Y/N) to perform. She went on stage with her backup dancers and got into position. They covered (Y/N)’s frame with giant white feathers, like if she was an elegant swan. She was able to hear her adoring fans and got butterflies in her stomach. She heard her fans already cheering even though they couldn’t see anything on stage due to it being pitch black. She loved every moment of it all. It was finally time to wrap this all up.

She heard the introduction music and narrator speak. She turned to her back up dancers and smiled, “You guys ready?” she asked. They all nodded and asked if she was ready, not knowing that question had a double meaning. She said yes with a big smile on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the one and only, the elegant, the heart stealer. Everyone here, please welcome, (Y/N)!”

The dancers pulled back the feathers, revealing (Y/N) and everyone cheered. She was finally performing. Meanwhile, Joost was backstage watching the beautiful performance. He got the little box ready and was preparing himself. He watched as (Y/N) sang, danced, performed with her life. He always loved that about her, she always knew how to put up a performance.

Joost saw the fans go wild and it was just the very first song. They all sang along like it was karaoke and dances to the beats. He watched his favorite girl with heart eyes and before he knew it, the song was about to come to an end. It was finally time to do what he always wanted to do. He told the crew to signal the DJ to prepare to lower the music.

As (Y/N) was about to finish her song, the music lowered and cut off all together. She thought it was a mistake so she improvised and continued singing the song. She didn’t want to disappoint her fans. That was until she heard her fans scream even louder. She got confused and was wondering why everyone was going crazy until she saw some fans in the crowd point behind her.

(Y/N) turned around and saw her man, on one knee with a box containing a beautiful gold ring with a gorgeous diamond showing. (Y/N) couldn’t believe her eyes. She covered her mouth in shock and started tearing up. It took her a couple of seconds before she said yes. She watched as Joost put the ring on her finger with a huge smile on his face. Joost got up and hug her tight.

In that moment, it’s like everything and everyone disappeared. All that mattered was Joost and his lover. “I can’t believe you did all of that, and for me?!” she said to him.

“Of course I did it all for you, my love. You’re the only woman I love and you are my everything,” he replied. Joost gave (Y/N) a kiss on her lips and pulled away to look at her, “I'm going to stay on stage with you and watch because you look like a goddess when you’re performing.”

Joost took the microphone from (Y/N) and turned to the audience, “Brasil! Prepare for this woman to have a new last name! (Y/N) Klein!” The audience erupted in massive roar-like cheers. The soon-to-be newlyweds gave each other one last kiss before a new song played, signaling (Y/N) to continue the show.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Hey peoples i hope you liked this im so in love with this man </3 i like writing to muscian readers cuz then I can add what artist I wanna be like (ariana grande, kali uchis, lana del rey, etc etc)

[serqphites]

VICTORIA NEUMAN X ASSISTANT!READER

format: blurb

warnings: nsfw content at the end

word count: 700+

not proofread! y/n used!

- the second you came in for your interview she pretty much decided she was hiring you LMAO

- now i’m not saying she only hired you because of her crush, because your resume genuinely caught her eye, but i’m also not saying it had nothing to do with it 🤷‍♀️

- she definitely asks you to do things she could easily do just as an excuse to see you

- “y/n! can you come here please?”

- “can you pick up this pen i dropped please? i’ve got suchhh a bad back” she’s so dramatic i love her

- you honestly think she’s just being a bitch and she’s messing with you

- that is until one day she comes to you in the morning, saying today she only has one task for you

- “will you eat lunch with me?” and she has the dorkiest smile of all time on her face

- lunch together becomes a regular thing, going from talking about your favourite tv shows to her telling you about her daughter zoe

- she’s so sad when you eventually tell her you thought she was just like every person you’ve ever worked for, just messing with you for the fun of it

- “no no never! i could never do that, especially not to you” OOOOOO it’s blush city for you both

- things are going great! you love your job. that is until something changes, and victoria randomly stops asking you to do things for her

- i mean you’re her assistant, shouldn’t you be getting her coffee? shouldn’t you be organising her files? shouldn’t you be having lunch with her and not hughie?

- to say this has you down is an understatement, you can’t seem to understand why she has randomly shut you out

- it’s not like she’s not speaking to you, she’s still asking you to do things but they’re all tasks that require you to be away from her. you haven’t even been in her office for nearly two weeks now

- after your hurt builds and builds, you can’t hold it in anymore. you storm into her office demanding to know why she’s avoiding you

- she plays it dumb at first but she knows what she’s been doing so she fesses up

- “fuck… i’m sorry, so sorry. it’s not you i promise, it’s me. i- i like you, okay? like a lot and i know it sounds stupid and i know it’s sooo inappropriate because you’re my assist-“ SILENCED BY A KISS WOOOO

- you’re discrete about it at first, sneaking around and making out in the bathroom stalls like you’re high schoolers

- her bringing you lunch everyday<3

- she so leaves post-it notes on her desk with cute lil messages whenever she has to leave for meetings because it’s where she tells you to just relax

- you don’t bother asking why you’re not allowed to meetings that involve voughts CEO, it’s probably just a confidentiality thing right?

- a bit random but whenever you’re standing talking to somebody i feel like she’d just squeeze your butt?

- canon she’s a butt squeezer

- you don’t fight much but oh boy is your schedule full when you do

- she gives you the stupidest tasks she can think of LMAO

- “can you walk someone’s dog please?” “someone’s dog?” “yeah, just go around asking who has a dog that needs walking” “are you being serious, vic?” “yes i most definitely am, it would help me soooo much you have no idea!”

- I LOVE HER SO MUCHHH

- dating your boss can be annoying at times, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world <3

NSFW TIMEEEE

- officesex!officesex!officesex!

- this honestly deserves its own blurb if i'm being honest

- i feel like she's already dominant in bed anyways but because she’s your boss it’s elevated TO THE MAX.

- “i have one really special task for you today, so listen closely”

- you can barely stay stood up with how weak your knees go (real)

- “i need you to be a good girl for me, how does that sound? you think you can do that for me?” in her husky voice im DECEASED

- one time she cleared her desk by pushing everything on the floor, she immediately regretted it when she realised she had broken almost everything

- “i always see people do it in movies and this doesn’t happen” she’s so upset while she’s picking up a broken picture of you both on the beach

- she’s so silly

- she definitely buys you lingerie to wear underneath your work clothes 🤭

- the amount of flirty texts she sends you during the day just to watch you blush uncontrollably is concerning (when is it my turn)

a/n: requests are always open, hope you enjoyed :)

[dmercer91]

hooked, jh86

in which jack is quite literally sleeping with the enemy.

most of the rangers give me egregious vibes so there are hardly any in here and i used their ig handles for twitter i didn't feel like finding the correct ones - set in 2023-24 season

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, nicohischier and 147,122 others

jackhughes: drives me mad

view 1,239 comments..

yourusername: in ny we hard launch like grownups

→ jackhughes: oh yeah?

→ yourusername: once you fuck this one up i’ll swoop in and prove it to u hughesy ;)

trevorzegras: admitting that you’re easily rizzed is crazy

→ jackhughes: easily 🤨

→ trevorzegras: ‘the hit could’ve been harder maybe she likes me 🤭’

→ user: did she hit him with her car or????

user: hit? as in like hockey hit? y/n??????

→ user: she just threatened to mr steal your girl him tho so idk

yourusername: jhugh big foot guy eh?

→ jackhughes: what the fuck y/n

_quinnhughes: luke?

→ lhughes_06: i can’t even explain without giving myself a migraine

dawson1417: i’m telling nico

→ jackhughes: there’s nothing to tell nico 🤨

→ nicohischier: nico uses context clues to deduce things

elblue6: ❤️

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes and 129,483 others

yourusername: van @ nyr except i adopted the sad one

jack was there too, unfortunately

load 1,612 comments..

jackhughes: now what is this

→ yourusername: i’m already planning on adding z to my collection when the ducks are up here

→ trevorzegras: did u just say collection

→ jackhughes: so you wanna be friends with all my friends but i try and be friends w u and i’m gross? ouch

→ yourusername: have u ever considered that you’re my teams rival

→ jackhughes: i’ve considered it and also decided it won’t stop me

→ yourusername: have you considered that you’re icky

→ jackhughes: wtf

_quinnhughes: ankle biter

→ yourusername: it was his shoulder and i can bite him whenever i want

nyrangers: traitor :(

→ yourusername: no admin it’s ok it’s the good hughesy

→ lhughes_06: i’ve done nothing to you

→ yourusername: you get in my way a lot

shesterkinigor: funny

→ yourusername: i try

view more comments..

njdevils

liked by yourusername, dougieham and 17,444 others

njdevils: we guess this one’s not so bad 😉 @yourusername

view 592 comments..

user: this is.. unsettling

user: him patting her after every connection was top tier i need her in a devs jersey

yourusername: don’t let this fool you i still like quinn better

→ jackhughes: will you let me have this one

→ yourusername: you’re lucky i didn’t throw the game just so you’d lose

→ lhughes_06: there’s always next year

nyrangers: we can admit that this one (1) thing is cute

→ yourusername: enemies to lovers??????

→ nyrangers: no, y/n.

→ yourusername: ok attitude

jackhughes: thanks for the passes or whatever @yourusername

→ yourusername: shut up

user: they’re sleeping in the same hotel room??

→ yourusername: no j just commits some light b&e in his free time

→ jackhughes: did you just call me j

→ yourusername: i also called you a felon

→ trevorzegras: i think he’s just gonna look right past that

user: loving the full blown conversations happening in comment sections lately

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by elblue6, dougieham and 179,537 others

yourusername: ⛽️

view 2,029 comments..

jackhughes: i thought nyers hard launched 🤨

→ yourusername: do you have my notifs on??

→ jackhughes: no comment

user: those are jacks hands

→ user: why do you… know that, even?

user: this is why the nhl is all men lmao they aren’t focused on fucking their opponents

→ yourusername: oh babe.. i have some news for you

→ user: ITS A PLAYER?????????

dougieham: gross

→ yourusername: behave douglas

lhughes_06: what pro hockey player has another man tie her skates for her

→ yourusername: the kind that knows your address and will take your ligaments away

nyrangers: our girl

→ user: can i have your girl

→ njdevils: ^

→ nyrangers: no

_quinnhughes: you hurt my brain

→ yourusername: ok

user: THE TYING THE SKATES!!! JACKS SOFT LAUNCH

view more comments..

twitterhockeybropodcast

y/n y/ln has allegedly requested a trade out of new york 👀

722 ❤ 312 ↳ 147 💬

view comments..

dawson1417: you know @/yourusername i’ve heard jerseys pretty nice

→ dawson1417: you wouldn’t even have to move!

→ yourusername: oh boy

trevorzegras: y/n/n y/ln YOU are an anaheim duck

→ _quinnhughes: step back off my teammate

→ yourusername: you’re both delusional

user: awh the guys wanting her on their teams 🥹

colecaufield: i’ll teach you french @/yourusername

→ yourusername: i only want to know the bad words

→ colecaufield: that’s doable

→ yourusername: sold

user: quinn and the honorary hughes’ is cute but WHERE IS JACK??

→ user: right like he hasn’t even liked it

→ user: he took down his soft launch?

edwards.73: you will eventually get to play with me if you go to jersey @/yourusername

→ yourusername: it's really cute that you though this would help build your case ed

→ edwards.73: can't blame a guy for trying

jackhughes: does this mean we can be friends now?

→ yourusername: oh lol sure

→ user: oh this was painful to read

to, j 💥: is everything ok?? read, 6:33pm

to, j 💥: jack what the hell read, 7:12pm

to, j 💥: you can't really be moody cause i requested a trade from a team you don't even play for lmao

from, j 💥: i'm at practice. talk later

to, j 💥: i'm literally with daws and luke right now dude

to, j 💥: wtf did i do?? read, 7:44pm

to, j 💥: since when am i the one begging to make this work????

to, j 💥: you've been telling me for fucking months you didn't care what it meant as long as we could try us out

to, j 💥: you can't tell me how much you want me around one day and work so hard to make me believe you and then completely flip my world around the next that's not fair read, 8:19pm

to, j 💥: i at least deserve an explanation

from, jack: maybe i'm sick of people telling me i'm fucking up my whole life for you and that you're just gonna dump me before the playoffs so i lose focus

to, jack: hello?? lose focus against the team i'm requesting to leave?

to, jack: and who is people? all i've done is prove that i wouldn't fucking do that

to, jack: i'm literally with two of your teammates right now read, 8:25pm

to, jack: whatever, j. i asked for a trade for you lmao

from, jack: how is that for me? you're gonna be in a completely different fucking state and we'll never see each other

to, jack: that's what this is abt?? you could've just said something, j

from, jack: i don't think you can just unrequest the trade, y/n.

from, jack: what's done is done

to, jack: what would've happened if they just traded me regardless of if i asked?? would you have shut me out cause you don't like the distance when it wasn't my fault?

from, jack: that's different and u know it

to, jack: whatever jack

to, jack: see you wednesday

from jack: against the avs?? you got traded to fucking colorado?

to, jack: no. i got traded to the devils.

njdevils

ranger devil 😈 @/yourusername

2922 ❤ 456 ↳ 78 💬

view comments..

yourusername: i've always looked good in red

→ njdevils: our girl

dawson1417: FUCK YEAHHHH

→ yourusername: LEFT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR!!

→ dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR !!!!!!

lhughes_06: i'm gonna get bullied so much more often

→ yourusername: amen to that moosey

→ lhughes_06: no, not amen to that y/n/n

user: again i ask WHERE IS JACK

nicohischier: another one that won't listen to me

→ yourusername: not reporting for duty, cap 🫡

→ nicohischier: i'm not endeared

→ yourusername: fuck yeah you are

trevorzegras: i know i'm not meant to take personal offence to this but i am

→ yourusername: quinn is GROUCHY

→ _quinnhughes: why does jack get all the cool people i want to have a lake house adoptee on the canucks

→ yoursername: just bring petey

→ eliaspettersson_: do not volunteer me for that chaos

user: i'm kinda concerned at the lack of jack and y/n lately like what happened

jackhughes: new liney?

→ yourusername: new liney :)

→ lhughes_06: 🤨

→ user: luke don't expose your brother's weird cryptic comments as being weird and cryptic challenge

→ lhughes_06: hmm no

njdevils

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 34,899 others

njdevils: we think we've seen this film before and we loved the ending (bratter - jack - y/n/n line supremacy)

view 583 comments..

jackhughes: start building the statue

→ yourusername: fucking right

user: the way that she just screamed in his face on her first assist to his goal i could SOB

→ user: and his fucking SMILE BACK AT HER

→ user: and her third goal!! the jump into his arms

user: in love w them actually

→ njdevils: us too

lhughes_06: they should've smooched on centre ice with the hats falling down

→ lhughes_06: what lol who said that

dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR DID THAT

→ yourusername: i couldn't have done wonderwall with out your harmonizing merc

→ dawson1417: i do have the voice of an angel

trevorzegras: i love how it feels to be a hater

→ _quinnhughes: ^

→ yourusername: wonderwall concert, 5pts, and i got quinn hughes to agree with trevor zegras. i am her.

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier and 289,111 others

yourusername: j <3

view 677 comments..

jackhughes: favourite liney?

→ yourusername: forever liney

lhughes_06: open your messages you demonic being

→ yourusername: do u know how much EFFORT that is

→ lhughes_06: i could imagine it's not a lot??

dawson1417: yucky

→ yourusername: we facetime like teenaged girls n you and ryleigh screeched in excitement when you recognized his room this morning

→ dawson1417: ok???? i screeched cause of the yuckiness

_quinnhughes: i guess you not being a canuck is tolerable if this is the outcome

→ trevorzegras: speak for yourself quintin i want her to be my liney forever 😾

→ yourusername: sorry z <3

→ jackhughes: she's not sorry

→ yourusername: i'm sort of sorry

→ trevorzegras: good enough!

user: SCREAMING AND CRYING OMG

→ user: WE'VE BEEN WAITING

user: mom n dad

dougieham: this is terrefying

→ yourusername: ok

john.marino97: new reality tv show live in the locker room except theres no drama it's just hughesy being whipped

→ yourusername: your favourite!

→ john.marino97: i hate every second

njdevils: it's not like we saw this coming or anything

→ yourusername: ADMIN

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[moonstruckme]

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers. 

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?” 

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it. 

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel. 

“Same as usual?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash. 

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.” 

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.” 

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.” 

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch. 

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” you say. 

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?” 

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.” 

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?” 

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either. 

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.” 

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.” 

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.” 

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.” 

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.” 

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex. 

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say. 

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.” 

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.” 

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?” 

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.” 

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.” 

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.” 

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you. 

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?” 

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.” 

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.” 

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them. 

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.” 

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye. 

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.” 

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something. 

“A date?” you ask. 

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.” 

“And you…don’t want to have sex.” 

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.” 

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.” 

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?” 

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.” 

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

[squidpedia]

HI I’M PEDIA, MASTERPOST DOWN BELOW BUT HOLD ON REALLY QUICK READ MY FAQ:

Boundaries on reposting, dubbing, and pfp’s?

Please ask for permission in my messages/inbox before reposting my work or dubbing it! PFP’s don’t need permission, just include credit in bio please. Most likely I’ll be ok with it so please don’t be shy! it’s just a boundary I like having respected. Also cmon girl if you make a dub of my work I want to see🥺

Do you like [other show/video/series]?

Maybe! All my my non utdr fanart goes to @squidpedias-fanart so maybe check/ask there?

I sent you an ask a while ago/tagged you in a post but you never responded, did I upset you somehow?

NOOOOOOOOOOOO I’M JUST AWFUL AT RESPONDING TO ASKSSS OR TEND TO MISS A LOT OF NOTIFICATIONS I’M SORRYYYYYY YOUREE FINEEEEEE. ITS YOU AND LIKE 150 OTHER PEOPLE I PROMMY IM JUST TERRIBLE. don’t be afraid to rb it and tag me in the rb again, sorry for that!

I liked this drawing concept you made. Can I make fanart, redraw it in my style, or make something inspired by it?

YEAH!!!! Flattered and happy I inspired you in that way!! Just 1) tag and credit me, because I would be so sad if I didn’t see and would love love love to rb it and 2) if it’s a redraw, try to link back to original post if possible (but I forget to mention that a lot so that second part isn’t as big of a deal)

What about writing fics?

A FEW OF YOU ARE WILD FOR THAT BUT YEAH GO OFF. Still let me know, give credit, tag me if possible, and check out this other post I made too regarding fic writing and overall boundaries about my fallen kid oc’s. If you still have questions after reading that and there’s anything I didn’t go over, reach out and ask in my inbox or dm’s! I’d be happy to elaborate on anything!

What other socials do you have?

I have a Youtube, Twitter, Bluesky, and a Switch (SW-2670-2211-5056) (thats not a social but you should friend me on there anyways and crash my splatoon lobbies lmao).

Do you have any oc’s or personal works?

@an-unconscious-effort-comic and @dragontry-comic (neither stories are connected to each other and are their own projects)

Pronouns?

Please refer to Frisk, Chara, Kris, and any of my fallen human designs with they/them strictly here (or Chara by they/it) (This includes Lilac). Clover also uses they/them my take too (well they/she actually but I usually just refer to her by they they/them in posts because,,,,,nervous)

Oh wait you meant me. Any👍

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

UTDR/UTY COMICS MASTERPOST

(uty comics are highlighted in orange if you’re more interested in the strictly undertale comics)

Clover’s Memories (ongoing - i prommy)

(10/12 update - the voices………….theyre telling me to work on it again………………..meanwhile i got a big project due at midnight and have to study for a test tomorrow, some halloween related ask doodles, and commissions from both sides of my family for their individual family businesses IM GONNA EXPLODEEEE)

Silence | Memory 1 | Memory 2 | Memory 2.5 Coming Soon | Sound | Memory 3 | Discrepancy | Memory 4 | Static

Clover’s Hat (post revive au)

Part 1 /// Part 2 /// Bonus

Kanako Integrity Duo (really short mini doodle comics)

Reconciliation // Introductions // Ceroba // Chujin

Miscellaneous:

Kris and Clover Interaction // Clover’s Sacrifice // Frisk vs. Clover’s POV // Clover Tells Martlet a Secret // Who’s Your Friend? // Pipe Down // Family Visit // Unwell // Letter // Humor // Gamer // They // Kicked Out // It Keeps Happening // What’s In A Name

TAGS:

#Happily Ever After and Then Some -> everyone lives au (based on the events of undertale and uty) including chara, flowey/asriel gets his body back, fallen kids, where i offer very limited explanation for why or how because it simply makes me really self-conscious to try to come up with reasoning and really i just want to imagine these characters in fun and interesting scenarios. Theyre all alive, just go with it and have fun. Note this is not a comic series or anything, i just like doodling the scenarios sometimes

(It doesn’t really have any posted content to it’s name yet,,,other than maybe revived clover au content ig,,,and im just not even sure how hard i’ll commit??? But i think and doodle about it often enough to justify it being mentioned for now. i think)

#Phantom integrity au -> someone sent an ask once about what if clover’s narrator was integrity. It’s a fun idea to explore and where I got the concept of Lilac’s design for! It’s not something I think about very often plotwise but I like drawing ghosty lilac

#Lilac -> yes they deserve their own tag. My integrity design that i like to draw, they have diseases i love them

#Pedias art

#Other peoples art -> you should check them out please 🥺

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.