#you get this pile of dooky

[he-goes-down]

I'm gonna give it to you straight, i want smut. I want Izzy's face SAT ON by the reader.

That's it, thank you

You’re literally my twin omg - sorry if its dookie

Masterlist

Too Funky

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x reader

Warnings: oralF! Recieving

Second Person POV:

Izzy laid on the bed on his back, as you were by the closet searching for clothes the wear. The bed was quiet close to the closet so you would take an occasional seat on the edge laying your clothes next to each other and throwing the best ones in one pile and the second best back into the closet. Izzy continued to rest in his back, his head close the edge resting next to your thigh, looking up at you from an upside down point of view. He watched everything you did quietly and intently. He was normally like that before doing something mischievous, but you didn’t pay much attention to his actions before he did something. You stood up again, putting a few hangers back and then getting new ones out, before sitting back down again.

You gasped as felt Izzy’s nose brush against the fabric that clothed your heat. You immediately tried to stand up straight so that you wouldn’t suffocate him. But he had his hands firmly placed on your thighs holding you down. You had thought nearly sitting in his face was an accident, seemed like he planned this. “Izzy!” You shrieked, trying to hover over his face and not plant your self on him with your whole weight. The feelings of his nose so close to your heat made your area start to pool with wetness. You had finally gotten out of his grasped, turned on your heel and looked at him, he was still lying down with a pleading look on his face. His eyes desperate and filled with lust. You looked back at him with the same lust and desire, telling him that he could continue his plans. He took a hold of your thighs again from the back and dragged you closer to his face again. He maintained eye contact as he squeezed your thighs and soon you could only see his neck as his mouth and nose were hovering so close to your wet core. “Sit.” He spoke, the words hitting of your clothed pussy and sending shivering through you. A small whine escaped you in response to the feeling. You had never actually really sat on his face before, you had hovered and had him devour you in different positions, but you were scared of putting your whole weight on him. “Izzy! Fuck… please, what if I hurt you.” You spoke in concern but still having that teasing feeling of him underneath you. “ I don’t fucking care.” He said. God he was so fucking crazy for you, especially when he got close enough to taste you, all his morals and self control were out the window.

Izzy began to press his face up into you, and start kissing the fabric of your pants, making you whine and moan at the amazing feeling. But shit it wasn’t enough for him. He got out from under you and started to quickly rip off your pants and start to kiss your clit through laced panties. It still wasn’t enough, he wanted you to suffocate him, he didn’t care, he wanted to be gasping for air but only taste you in return. He went to lie on the bed properly in the middle and beckoned you over. You kissed eachother passionately while Izzy’s hands trailed to your hips and began to take off your panties. “Please…” he spoke between kisses. You stopped the kiss in order to know what he wanted so bad. “Please, baby, just fucking sit on my face.” He said it straight to the point, all the while his hand was about to explore your pussy. You whined at the feeling of him touching you as he begged to give you pleasure. “What if I hurt you?” You said with worry. “ I don’t fucking care.” He begged. If he was on death row you would be his last meal. You breathed a shaky exhale and agreed to try.

Every piece of clothing was off, your legs next to his head, hovering over his face. Feeling his hot breath on you made you shiver, making you even wetter. “Sit.” He commanded. You lowered your self on his face, your core muscles working as you didn’t put you full weight on him. His nose pressed against your clit, his mouth parted and he licked in between your folds. His tongue teased your soaking cunt. You felt his breath hard on you, in frustration. Then inhaling before taking your hips roughly and pulled you down, having you fully use his face like a chair. It set something off in him and he began to ravish you. Sucking, kissing, biting,licking. Getting more and more aggressive and desperate at eating you as you moaned his name loudly. “Izzy…” you moaned, trying to get a bit further from his face as he hadn’t taken a breath in ages. But he pulled you back down with even more force. “I said sit.” You heard him growl under you. The vibrations sending to your clit making your hips buck and grind on his face. He groaned as you grind on him, his whole heart and soul quivered with list hearing and feeling you as he pleased you, to him that was the only thing that mattered.

“Izzy… Fuck…” you moaned, your hips bucked as Izzy’s skillful tongue explored you inside, licking up all your wetness. Your clit grinding on his gorgeous nose. You clenched around his tongue as you got close, he groaned again, knowing he was the reason you were feeling bliss. “I’m- Izzy… I’m gonna cum… fuck.” You moaned louder. Shaking under Izzy’s strong hands and on his perfect face. You moved away from his face again as you shook, feeling your climax about to burst. He brought you back to him face, wanting you to cum on his mouth, he wanted to drown in your sweet taste. He continued to eat you out like it was his last meal on earth. You gripped his hair, riding out your orgasm on his face. “Izzy!” You moaned in ecstasy as you came all over his mouth and face. “Fuck…” you sighed as your body shook softly. Trying to get off his face as you finished, but only to be brought back to sit on him for another time and he licked and lapped your cum and slick, licking you clean.

You soon did get the chance to get off from his face, him gasping for air as a string of spit and wet connected his mouth to your cunt. Him looking up at you with eyes of a man that just saw heaven. Licking his lips as he sat up and you moved to sit on his lap.

“Fuck, I love you so much… you taste so fucking good.” He said as he held you to his chest and combed his fingers through your hair. Your heartbeat slowly as you drifted to a sleepy state.

[darlingsnow0]

I already posted this on my ao3 under the title “if you give a goblin a cookie” so i decided I’d just post it here for funsies as well, do note it’s horrible as I am a dookie writer but I was really bored😭

word count: 1,252

Sarah was up, late, it was 3 in the morning and she was creating her tenth batch of cookie dough quietly as to not wake up anyone. Irene would’ve probably made her sleep outside if she woke up Toby at 3 in the morning.

She didn’t know how she was managing to make the cookies so fast, she was running off pure spite and anger. That..That..That sparkly dirtbag loser of a goblin king had come into HER dreams! How he did she doesn’t know, but she knows there’s no way she’d dream of him unless it was a nightmare.

So to get him back she made a plan,  a good one in her opinion considering how early it was. She’d make lots of cookies, sneak into the underground and then give them to the goblins to give them a sugar high. Toby was a menace on a sugar high so goblins just HAD to be worse, and Jareth-She doesn’t like calling him so casually but calling him goblin king makes her feel like he has power over her- Who seemed to already be annoyed by the goblins daily would probably butcher them if they were as annoying as Toby.

So one final batch of cookies and an explanation to her father who had come down to eat breakfast and leave for work later she had put all the cookies in Tupperware and bags and carried them up to her room in trips. She sat in front of her mirror “Hoggle! Sir Didymus! Ludo!” She said, her hands slightly shaking. Did she really want to go back there? After all that’s happened, she could be risking maybe her whole life going back!

No, no, he had no power over her, he can do nothing. She looked up at the mirror and behind her was Hoggle, sir didymus with ambrosius and Ludo. She smiled and looked back to see them standing in her room “I need your help!” She said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips “whatever can we help you with, Lady Sarah?” Sir didymus asked her. She smiled and held up some bags of cookies and they all looked at her weirdly, except ludo, he smiled at her. “I want to give every goblin in the castle cookies!” She said, a smirk overtaking her tired face.

Hoggle was the first to speak up “Don’t think that’s a good idea Sarah, goblins and sugar ain’t the best mix and certainly not Jareths favorite” he said, slightly waving his arms around to get the point across. Ludo and Sir Didymus nodded in agreement “yeah I agree with sir Hoggle, it would be in your best interest to not give the goblins cookies!” Sir Didymus said, but Sarah had already set her mind.

“Well, he has no power-“ “over you, yes we know Sarah” Hoggle cut in, earning a glare from Sarah. “Well, just help me! Please guys, I’ll take all the blame I swear” she assured them and Hoggle and sir Didymus looked at each other, deciding, Ludo just smiled and nodded once she asked for help. Seems like he was already set on helping her, what an amazing friend he was to her Sarah thought.

Hoggle sighed and held his hands out and she handed him some bags, repeating it to sir Didymus and Ludo, Ludo being able to carry many and Ambrosius carrying a container in his mouth . Finally as the last container had been taken through the mirror Sarah pressed her hand against it and felt like she was falling before hitting stone floor. She looked around, realizing they(Ludo, Hoggle, Sir Didymus and ambrosius, and her) were in front of the castle.

She stood up, and looked at the pile of cookies that had accumulated behind her. She grabbed a container and opened it “well? Start handing them out!” She said before running into the castle, checking around the corners to make sure she didn’t see Jareth. Could he possibly already know? Maybe, but as long as he didn’t stop her she didn’t care really. Whenever she stumbled upon a goblin she’d hand them two cookies and run off. 

She was getting a leg workout and by the time she, Hoggle, Ludo, and sir Didymus had handed out all the cookies(Ludo eating a few himself) it looked like the sky was a painting of purple and pink as the sun came up. She wondered if jareth had been asleep, did he need sleep? He would certainly need sleep after dealing with the sugar-infested goblins. Whenever Sarah went back in she saw more and more goblins running around and destroying more things then Hoggle said to be normal.

“If he ever gets his hands on you, it’ll be the bog of eternal stench, ya hear me Sarah!” Hoggle stressed like they hadn’t done it yet, like he wasn’t an accomplice, though Sarah did say she would take all the blame. “Yes, yes Hoggle” she said before skipping over to a bunch of bushes and sat down the other three looked at her confused “what? I wanna know what Jareth thinks about this” she said smirking.

Hoggle groaned and Sir Didymus and ambrosius came over to her “we will protect you while you wait, Fair maiden!” Sir didymus said proudly. Ludo walked over to the other side and sat down next to her. She leaned on him and fell asleep, only waking up when the sky was bright blue and she heard boots stomping behind her. She heard the bush rustle and the others who had been sitting around her woke up as well.

Sarah looked up and saw two mismatched eyes staring back, blonde hair curtaining them slightly. “Sarah darling” he, Jareth said through gritted teeth, she smiled back up at him. “Hello Jareth” she said before standing up too face him, he had his usual makeup, an open blouse, too tight black pants and black boots. “I’m assuming you are the reason my goblins are..overly annoying” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his wrinkles becoming noticeable. “Maybe it was me” she said shrugging “well if it was your friends, I’d have to bog them” he said, damn it!

“Alright! It was me gosh” she said, holding her arms up in defeat, he just shook his head “my castle is in shambles, more then it usually is” he said, an anger to his voice that Sarah had learned to note. “Maybe I should bog you!” He said, smirking and she shook her head as the others finally came to her defense “ai! Don’t you go after Sarah ‘gain” Hoggle said before cowering away at the look Jareth gave him.

“Oh fine, fine I suppose this was somewhat..humorous so I’ll let you all go, for now” he said turning back to walk back to the castle as Sarah tagged along, earning a questioning look from Jareth. “I wanna see what I created” she said and ran up the stairs, seeing an abundance of things smashed and torn, scraps of things thrown on the ground. She let out a laugh, it looked like Toby’s room with all his toys instead of the debris. “You believe this is funny, precious?” Jareth said, earning a glare for the nickname.

“That’s all I needed! Send me back” Sarah said, taking in the mess for the last time as Jareth rolled her eyes and suddenly she was back in her room. Cleaning up that mess means Jareth free dreams for sometime, mission successfully!

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 16)

(Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of injury/dying, blood, nightmares)

Gus tips the delivery person and walks back into the main room of the office with two still-steaming burritos in a bag. Shawn feels the memory of salivating at that same smell– god, not even a week ago. Somehow it feels like it’s been years since he woke up cold and starving, but at the same time it’s been seconds. Is that a vampire thing, an ADHD thing, or a trauma thing? Is it worth figuring out? Not right now.

His mouth is bone-dry as he accepts the burrito. It smells good, great, and the way the warmth of it seeps through the tinfoil into his hands is heavenly. He feels no excitement to bite into it. 

“Alright.” Gus sits down at his desk. “Test number one– garlic.”

“I dunno about this, man. I told you I get hungry after I get hurt.”

“Shawn, we need to figure out your supernatural weaknesses before going back to taking cases.”

“I think we can consider garlic a lock!”

“Sunlight isn’t.”

“... Fair. … Fine. But only if you make some posters to hang around so we get some more private cases.”

“Why? Are you hungry again already?”

“...”

“Do I need to pull out the pencil rosary again?”

“Maybe? It’s not… bad. It’s just kind of… there. Can we just– I’m taking a bite, if I burst into flames or turn into a pile of ash just know my text about my Tears for Fears vinyls still applies.”

“Shawn.”

“Just making sure.” Shawn unwraps the burrito. It’s weird, to know something smells so delicious and know it should be making your mouth water and know you should be excited to eat it, but none of that matters. It’s like the whole experience is hitting a glass wall, clearly there, just barely out of reach to him. 

He takes a bite. Shredded pork, salsa, guac, there’s even roasted corn in this one. It’s loaded, incredible, and he can’t really enjoy it because even though it all tastes exactly like it did when he was human it doesn’t mean anything. Nothing is satisfied by it. In fact, the pang of hunger sharpens as the taste of the pork specifically floods his mouth.

It’s meat, and it’s wrong. Close, so close to what he needs, but not right.

“So?”

Shawn swallows. “Didn’t even burn.”

“Alright, garlic is a no.” Gus crosses it off his list. “We’ve gotta find some garlic flowers next and see if those do anything.”

“Garlic flowers? Don’t be silly, Gus.”

“Garlic flowers are another classic vampire ward, Shawn! They’re used in the original Dracula novel!”

“It’s a novel?” 

“We had to read it in the seventh grade, remember?!”

“Not really. I do remember watching one of those old uh, black-and-white movies with Count Dookie.”

“Count Dooku, Shawn.”

“Gus, he was one of the bad guys, let’s not sweat over his name.”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“Am not.”

“You are! You’re deflecting again!”

“Deflecting? Please.”

��We agreed, last night, that if you got uncomfortable with focusing on the vampire stuff or the psychic stuff you’d say it outright and we’d switch gears.”

“... Alright. Alright, yes, I’m… wanting to change the subject for a while.”

“Fine. Psychic stuff still fine, or no supernatural stuff at all?”

“None at all, man, I just… let’s watch a movie or something. Least that won’t be different.”

“Alright. Hey, I think American Duos is on.”

“Really? … Wow. Their ratings must be terrible, it’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.”

“The guy they replaced Zappato with is kind of lacking, and they had to replace Emilina last season and she’s not great either. I think it’s only still on because the producers are afraid of telling Nigel St Nigel he’s off the air.”

“Really? It sounds awful. Let’s watch the entire season.”

“You know that’s right.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nice of you to join us today, detectives.”

They both freeze in their tracks. Lassiter turns around first, adjusting his tie nervously. “Ready to get back to work, Chief. It was just a 24 hour thing, and I’m firing on cylinders today.”

“We both are,” Jules jumps in.

“Good, because your homicide case wrapped up the other night and we need a few closing details from you both. You’ll find the paperwork on your desks–”

“Chief!” Buzz jogs over. “We just got a report on the wire, body pulled out of a lake. Looks like drowning.”

Jules makes eye contact with Lassiter. Shawn’s abilities really have evolved. 

“Oh, detectives!” Buzz grins at them both. “I’m glad you guys are feeling better today! Oh, um, Detective Lassiter, I put any remains of journals or anything we found from the mansion in a box and left it by your desk.”

The Chief turns to Lassiter with a disbelieving, you-better-explain threatening smile. “Uh, detective, when did you ask Officer McNab to do this?”

Crap. “Uh, over the phone yesterday, Chief.”

“And you heard about the mansion burning down… how?”

“... Well, uh… Spencer! Yes, Spencer called me in the middle of the night, said he had a vision. Normally I would’ve told him to screw off but I… humored, him, when he asked me to tell McNab… that.”

“You… humored… Mr. Spencer?”

“I blame the fever, Chief.”

“Well, then… I’ll blame it as well. If Mr. Spencer thinks something additionally important is in those journals, I’ll let you hold onto them for the moment, but it’s looking like this case is pretty much completely shut, at this point in time. Right now I want this drowning case to be your top priority.”

“You got it, Chief,” Jules says, giving a too-wide smile and overly enthusiastic thumbs-up. The Chief eyes her oddly for a moment, and then walks back to her office.

“Keep it together, O’Hara, you’re the one who convinced me to play along with this crap,” Lassiter whispers as they quickly walk to his desk.

“I’m trying! The bigger the secret, the harder time I have keeping it!”

“Then why in god’s name are we doing this?!”

“Because Shawn doesn’t deserve to go to jail or a mental facility for something he had no control over!”

“You do realize–”

“As soon as I said it. But Shawn’s not one of the the bad guys, Carlton. It’s different. He’s one of us.”

“... Yeah, alright.” Lassiter tries to sound unconvinced as he agrees. They reach his desk and he takes the lid off the box, frowning as he looks inside. “This is what McNab considers salvageable? He’s more off than I was before the divorce.”

“Oh, Carlton.”

“... My therapist says turning the situation into humor could help me move past it.”

“Alright… well, if you think it’s helping.”

Lassiter looks back into the box, slightly flushed with embarrassment now, and carefully looks through. “I don’t know that we’ll get anything helpful from this.”

“Well, maybe they’ll trigger some kind of… psychic revelation for Shawn.”

“We’re bringing him evidence now?”

“He’ll probably steal it out of evidence if we don’t.”

“You finally caught him doing that?”

“No, but, we both know he does.”

“... Fine. At least this way we can ask for it back. … Let’s focus on this drowning thing instead. You were lying when you said you’d call him, right?”

“No, I was not.”

“O’hara, you saw him this morning. He’s not even close to ready to work on a serious case.”

“... Fine. I’ll wait until we have evidence of foul play. If nothing suggests that, I’ll just tell him it was an accidental drowning case tomorrow.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry closes the door to the security room and gives himself a moment to chuckle, tossing his badge up once and tucking it back into his suit pocket. He forgot how much he enjoyed flashing the badge to get into places.

He pulls up the security feed from outside the store on the night in question. He scrubs through, trying to pick out any suspicious details.

There. 

Just before 3 AM, a motorcycle is caught speeding by. It’s too blurry an image to tell if it’s Shawn’s bike, but Henry’s always considered ‘confirmation bias’ to be something that applies to other people. His investigations have never suffered from such a thing.

He scrubs through some more. Cars, cars, it’s too dark and blurry on the camera to tell them apart by make or model, much less license plates. The motorcycle is all he’s getting from this. 

He stands up, straightens his suit, and leaves. Maybe he’ll get something better from a more expensive store’s security feed. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn scoots a little further away as Gus lets out a snore and mumbles something flirtatious in his sleep. He thinks he’s getting an okay handle on the hunger thing– his throat is shot to hell again already, the temptation of Gus’s blood a little bit like that time his dad put a marshmallow on a plate and told him if he didn’t touch it for fifteen minutes he could have two. Comparisons keep drifting through his head, all the different things he can taste from having Gus so close, even when he does his best to stop breathing it in. 

Again, the movie snacks aren’t helping whatsoever. He keeps eating them anyway.

His mouth aches again. Pulses with pain in time with Gus’s heartbeat. He should really stop setting up situations where he’s alone with one or more of them.

He leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes. The sound of the movie is sharp against his ears, just adding to the headache, getting less and less comprehensible as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Juliet doesn’t have Thornburg.

Juliet doesn’t have Thornburg.

So why is she dying?

Shawn is holding her hand, trying to confess, but the words are stuck in his throat. Jules is wheezing, her eyes bleeding, looking into his with a fear dulled by a thick glaze of illness. Jules is dying. Jules is dying.

Lassie doesn’t get shot in the graveyard.

Lassie doesn’t get shot in the graveyard.

So why is he dying?

Shawn is holding Lassie as he bleeds out– no, he’s holding Mary Light, no, he’s holding Lassie, no, he’s–

Lassie’s blood is spilling out of his chest. He’s looking at Shawn with a level of terror that Shawn never ever wants to see from the detective, never should see from him.

He’s holding Mary again. “Wake up, Shawn.”

Lassie is dying in Shawn’s arms.

Lassie is dying in Shawn’s arms.

Gus doesn’t fall off a cliff when he grabs onto the extreme sports murderer.

Gus doesn’t fall off a cliff when he grabs onto the extreme sports murderer. 

So why is he dying?

Shawn holds Gus at the bottom of the cliff. Gus’s blood coats the rock beneath them. His eyes are completely sightless, his mouth trying to form words that will never come, not with a head injury like this. Gus’s hand grips Shawn’s so tight it hurts, a silent plea to save him.

Gus is dying and Shawn can’t save him.

Gus is dying and Shawn can’t save him.

Henry is not the victim of a plane crash.

Henry is not the victim of a plane crash.

So why is he dying?

Shawn struggles to keep his father’s head straight with one hand as he tries to get the radio working with the other. Henry is barely awake, wheezing, mumbling incoherently. Shawn can’t make the radio work. He can’t call for help.

He looks at his dad and sees regret shining in his bloodshot eyes. Henry reaches out with one bloodied arm and grabs Shawn’s bicep. There’s a tree branch impaled through his abdomen. He looks Shawn in the eye and opens his mouth–

“Wake up!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn sits up with a gasp! His grandmother’s voice screaming through his father’s mouth echoes in his head as he pushes off the couch and runs to the bathroom, splashing cold–

No, no, he’s colder than it is, he switches the tap and splashes warm water on his face. It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, it’s not something his skin should be anymore– the warmth shocks him into full wakefulness.

“Shawn?!” Gus’s footsteps are like hammers against his skull, his quickened heartbeat like a jackhammer. Shawn presses his hands over his ears.

“Shawn!” Gus’s hands are so warm, so warm, warm warm warm blood spilling into Shawn’s jeans from Gus’s skull at the bottom of a cliff–

“WHAT THE–!”

Shawn finds himself presses against the bathroom wall, Gus standing in the doorway with the makeshift rosary held up, wet handprints on his shirt. Gus is shaking. Shawn realizes he feels fangs poking his lip.

He gulps in a breath, pressing his hands to his torso, then his face, holding them out– he repeats until he feels like he’s in his own body again. Gus watches, poised to run.

Shawn shakes his head, trying to knock the last echoes of the nightmare out. They won’t ever go away. They won’t ever go away.

Something clicks. He looks up. “Oh, god. I didn’t–”

“You lunged right for my neck.”

“I- Gus, I’m so– I didn’t–”

“I could tell.” Gus relaxes a little. His heart is still pounding. Shawn realizes belatedly that his voice has gone raspy again. Gus keeps the rosary held up. “What was that?”

“I-I… don’t…” Shawn swallows. They agreed he’d be honest. They agree he had to be honest, at least between the two of them. “I had a nightmare.”

“... About?”

“I don’t… want to talk about it.” If he talks about it he’ll relive it, he’ll have the images take over the real world again and if that happens he’s not sure he won’t try to–

“... Okay. Okay, but– Shawn, that was terrifying.”

“Yeah.”

“And your voice is all messed up again.”

“Noticed that too.”

“... You know, when I went out with Willow–”

“You guys actually went out?”

“Yes! A couple times! Anyway, she told me about this vampire bar place for people who pretend to be vampires.”

“So?”

“So… do you think you could handle just having a little from someone, uh… consenting for their own reasons?”

Flash of white, film grain, stalking up behind the burglar, covering his mouth, sinking his aching fangs into warm soft flesh and drinking–

Shawn shudders– he wishes it was because he disliked the feeling of the memory– vision? … Memory. God, he wishes he disliked it.

“Not doing that, Gus. First of all that’s not my kind of kinky business–”

“Eugh! I was trying not to say it outright, Shawn!”

“I know you were, that’s why I did. Anyway, second, that’s… too, vampire. Way too vampire.”

“... I could see if someone there is willing to donate blood.”

“Gus. You’ll pass out just trying to get the bag here.”

“I can handle it.”

“You don’t want to.”

“It’s that or you drinking me!”

“I won’t drink you!” Shawn doesn’t mean for it to come out panicked– but the way Gus tenses and raises the cross a bit more shows it did, in a bad way. Shawn shakes his head again, looking down and trying to regain some composure. “You– you just shouldn’t have to do that, buddy.”

“You shouldn’t have to be undead. It’s not a fair situation to any of us, Shawn.”

Jules, Lassie, Gus, Henry, bleeding bleeding bleeding dying dying dying Dying And Leaving Shawn Along FOREVER–

“I’m going.” Shawn is snapped out of it by Gus digging his car keys out of his pocket. “You just zoned out again and started shaking. If you don’t get blood, one of us is going to be in big trouble, and either way it goes it’ll be bad.”

“Gus–”

“I’ll just close my eyes or something! I’m putting this in front of the door on my way out, I’ll be back as soon as I can. And I’m letting Lassie and Jules know what I’m doing.”

“... Could you uh, leave out the–”

“Don’t even have to ask. Just… try to relax a little while I’m gone, okay?”

Shawn doesn’t agree or disagree. Gus leaves, and Shawn splashes his face a few more times before going back to the couch. He sits in the spot Gus had fallen asleep in. Maybe he’s imagining it because he’s so cold, but the spot still feels a little warm.

His cell rings a moment later. Crap. He lets it go to voicemail.

“Shawn, call me back, would you? What’s the point of these damn things if you just ignore it all the time? Look, I got a letter about your bike insurance and they’re raising the monthly payments. You put the damn bike on my card so I think I’m entitled to know how well you’re taking care of the thing if I’m going to keep paying for it.”

Shawn groans. He tosses his phone to the other side of the couch. He’ll reply later– or maybe never. 

Henry wheezing, staring with dull bloodshot eyes, reaching out–

…

He’ll reply later.

[fartquen12]

hi ur bff here can u write ghost from cod smut :3c

AHH THIS BUM... okay... i gues,,

GHOST FROM COD x Fem!READER

Trigger warnings: you already know *rolls eyes* Poop, Mini kyle, MY version of y/n, pee, dookie, farts, dookie, smut,yander, non/con.

AS ALWAYS NO MINI KYLES AND NO MINI RAVIS.

EVERLASTING BUTTCRAACK ```~

One day you were walking around in england and making toots in england WHEN all of the sudden... you saw this sus guy. HE WAS ALSO MAKING TOOTS. So you walked up to him.

"You copy me." You said firously

"WHAT!" he said really mad

he towered over you with a nasty glare before grabbing your throat causing you to yelp and blocking your windpipe.

"Dont. you. EVER. make. toots. in. england." He spat at you. his dookie colored eyes staring back at you.

"f-f-f-f" you wanted to say it but-

"F-f-f-f-f" he mocked you and twirled his fake hair.

"FOCK YOU!" you yelled out as you raised a knee and kicked him in the nut sack and ran off.

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You went into a gas station and bought some beer and candy. When you walked out you saw this... weird red van. Bright headlights staring back at you as you raised an arm over your eyes trying to block the light. It was so dark outside you couldnt make out what it was.

You ran over to the van and began cussing out the driver and throwing beer cans at the side, denting it. But the red van just sped off.

"WTF!!!:" you yelled.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

You were asleep in your bed...

*CREAK*

Your eyes flashed open and your heart began pounding.

"OH GOD THE FBI IS HERE TO GET ME!" You yelled jumping out off bed and ran for the window. It was after your second foot left the window and you were headed down at a rapid pace that you remembered you live 68 stories up...

You shat hella out of fear before feeling the impact. but you didnt hit your head. and you didnt feel anything. Thats when you saw.. THE OFFENSIVE TOOTER Headed at you with a GUN!!

You got up and began running!

"MAN I KNEW THIS GUY WORKED FOR THE FBI!"

You jumped over kids, cars, dogs, fatasses, bums. but you didnt escape it. THere was even a bum rooting you on but you still tripped and he threw a STANKY LEG paper towel ovever your nose and you passed out.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

What the.

"WHERE THE FUCK AM I!" You yelled looking around.

"Shhh..-"

"AHH THE FBI!!! LISTEN IM SORRY I FARTED ON THAT GUY!! AND IM SORRY I KILLED 20,000 PEOPLE YOU KNOW I DIDNT MEAN TOO!!!" you yelled

silence filled the air and the offended tooter looked confused.. scared even.

Like there was something behind you.

You zipped around in the spinny office chair you were tied to to make sure there was no backrooms doors monster,. luckily there wasnt.

"thats hot."

What the fuck... you thought to yourself. the offended tooter is now saying that your... hot.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN TOOTER!! I KILL PEOPLE!!" you accused angrily

"STOP CALLING ME TOOTER IVE NEVER FARTED IN FRONT OF YOU. Killing people is h-"

"NOT HOT!" Yoyu finished his sentence.. or atleast you thought it was a man...

*you felt something sharp in your neck before passing out*

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

You woke up with no clothes on and a pile of dookie next to you!!

"AHH WHAT THE!!?" you were also on the street. You ran over to your apartment which was right next door luckily and you threw yourself into the shower and threw some clothes on.

*Did i sleep walk again* you thought. hmm.

It was nothing just a bad dream you thought as you layed down.

In the window behind you was the face of the angry tooter.

I guess youll never know if it was a dream or not

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

CREDIT

WRITER: fartquen12

IDEA: anon

THIS FIC THREW BOOTYCHEEKS BUT WHATEVER

[hislittleraincloud]

God, it's only 9 10 11 12???

I'm high af already and found myself writing Wenovan, Jairo, Willmore, and now I'm fucking writing Futurama (!!!??? What the fuck, how did I even get here???) fic...all in the span of an hour (ETA a few, bc I got distracted...again...and am still high)

What the fuck is wrong with me

Bender's Treasure (T, only because it gets really fkn nerdy, Bender, Leela, Farnsworth, Fry, and Zoidberg on a beach, humor, nerd humor, Futurama drabble it's real fkn short and probably the beginnings of yet another new thing in my pile of shiny things that I like to collect...hey, I'm Bender 🤯, I probably won't remember writing it tomorrow. Fun fact, I have a Kill All Humans tee with Bender on it.) This is dialogue only, no action! Word count, no idea.

"Alright, how much do ya think I can get for this piece of junk I found at the bottom of an abandoned city next to a pile of dookie?"

Professor Farnsworth: "Wa-was it human dookie, or canine dookie? There is a difference, you know."

Leela: "Oh my God, Bender! You're all rusted up! Well, mostly. Did you run out of Rust-Oleum?"

"Nah, I just got partial rust protection for my most sensitive parts, if you know what I mean."

Leela: "Your shoulders are sensitive?"

"Tandy says they're my best feature. She polishes them every chance she gets, eh hee hee hee."

Fry: "Who's Tandy?"

"She's a chatbot I met in a chatroom for uh...singles with similar interests."

Leela: "You met her at AA, didn't you."

"Maybe, but Tandy is handsy, and the sex won't rust my [bleep]. She's a little bit of a homebody, but that's all good 'cuz her joystick ports are unbelievably —"

Leela: Alright, enough about your robosexual conquests. What're you gonna do with that trident?

Zoidberg: May I hold the mystical golden trident?

"No! Keep your filthy claws off my trident. It's mine! Mine. It's a mydent."

[pear1escence]

Tarte’s expensive ass fine milled setting powder can suck on my fat sweaty hairy (non-existent) balls, it doesn’t last for shit, has me looking like my face has been smothered in oil in I kid you not 20 minutes after application, and on top of that I’ve got severe PTSD from the shit entering my lungs every time I apply it anywhere under my nose I swear to god it gets everywhere too DO NOT BUY this 40€ pile of straight dookie

[lesvegas]

Yo I’m pure dookie ass at caravan, would you be kind enough to give some tips?

Ok so these things? These three piles of cards?

These are your caravans. Imagine each pile represents a single pack Brahmin, and every card is a package of things to sell. As you add cards, you are adding merchandise to your caravan/Brahmin.

Those orange numbers above each caravan, reading 25-26-25? That represents the weight of the packages altogether. You can see the first one has Ace (1) + 8 + 4 + 7 + 5 which = 25 (don't worry about the queens yet). Basically, you add cards (merchandise) to have a weight value between 21 and 26. Why? Well anything below 21 isn't enough stuff to bother sending a caravan out to Reno or the Hub, and anything over 26 will overencumber your poor Brahmin.

It's basically playing Black Jack three times, while your opponent (your rival caravaneer) is doing the same. You can use face cards to sabotage them, or help yourself. Kings doubles the value (or weight) of a card; for example, those two kings up there? The first one brought that 4 to an 8, and the next king brought that 8 to a 16. Plus the 10 on top, you get 26. Jacks will just remove a card; put it on your opponents' to mess with them, or put it on one of your own if they overencumbered you.

I never bother with queens or jokers, but as far as I know queens can change suits and the order of cards (from ascending to descending, also remember that you normally need to put cards down in a certain order from low to high or vice versa, except for when cards share the same suit) and jokers... jokers can fuck with your opponents' entire deck, basically.

So how do you actually win? You just have to get your caravans to their ideal weight-value ratio (between 21 and 26) before your opponent. Easiest way to do this imo is to have a deck of 7s, 9s, 10s (7 + 9 + 10 = 26) with Jacks and Kings. If I'm low on cards, I'll throw in 6s, 5s, and 8s as well. During the Caravan Tournament mod, I got by on the default deck Ringo gave me, using 5s, 6s, 7s, 8s, 9s, 10s, Jacks and Kings.

TL;DR use cards that easily add up to 26 (7s, 9s, 10s), jacks and kings, and play an amplified version of black jack 3 times in a row quicker than the person across from you.

[ambertrutharchive]

False: Amber and the Bed Situation

I was not going to do this one at first because it’s ridiculous, but since it’s one of the most circulated falsities I might as well.

Johnny Depp claimed that Amber Heard (or iO Tillet Wright) defecated in their bed, and this was the final straw to their marriage that made him divorce her. [Note: Amber Heard was the one to start the divorce procedures, not Johnny Depp.]

Johnny Depp’s claims do not make sense for many reasons.

1. Johnny Depp was not at home, having gone to another one of his properties in Sweetzer, meaning that the only person who would have to deal with feces in the bed would be Amber Heard herself, so it makes no sense that Amber Heard- or her friends- would defecate in a bed she was going to sleep in.

2. We have testimony from Raquel Pennington that they had climbed in the bed to wake Amber that morning so that they could go to Coachella to celebrate Amber’s birthday; there were no feces present before they left.

3. One of the dogs, Boo, was prone to defecating a lot as she has consumed some of Johnny Depp’s weed as a puppy and therefore had “an incomplete mastery of her bowels”.

4. Boo has defecated on the bed and Johnny Depp before, and Amber Heard cleaned it up instead of getting the cleaning lady, Ms. Hilda Vargas. Two years earlier, Amber Heard texted Kevin Murphy and said:

‘Last night she [Boo] shit on Johnny. While he was sleeping. Like all over him. Not exaggerating.’

---

Johnny Depp’s supposed disgust is also false as he was actually amused at the situation.

Johnny Depp has also been proven to be predisposed to these sort of actions, admitting to it during cross-examination. He even texted Stephen Deuters three years earlier asking the man to commit a similar action.

‘Will you squat in front of the door of the master bedroom and leave a giant coil of dookie so that Amber steps in it and thinks that one of the dogs, primarily Boo, has a major problem. It’ll be funny!!!’

---

Amber Heard, on the other hand, was disgusted with the situation. Her friends have even called her “faecal-phobic” and even Johnny Depp- before blaming iO Twillet Wright- thought it was unlikely that it was Amber Heard.

---

Furthermore, Hilda Vargas and Kevin Murphy are not reliable witnesses.

Hilda Vargas was on Johnny Depp’s payroll, and had been for thirty years at that point. Her opinion that Amber Heard is the responsible party is based on conjecture. She believes that it was human feces on the bed because of the size, and she believes that it was impossible for the dogs to get up on the bed without help. By her own words, she was not with Depp and Heard (or the dogs) at all hours and only arrived to do her job, so she would have no experience to if the dogs could or could not get up on the bed, and her cleaning smaller piles of feces before does not negate the above of Boo defecating “all over” Johnny Depp prior.

Kevin Murphy is even less reliable he is not only on his payroll but we have proof that he would always defend Johnny Depp, always.

‘I’ll always have your back, any time, anywhere. Continued relentless exposure of the fraud and the scamber bandits is key”

So, his claim that Amber Heard admitted to the action when combined with the previous evidence above comes into serious speculation.

---

Sources:

pg 100 of the The Final Judgement of the defamation trial against The Sun

pgs 539-540 of Day 4 Transcript Johnny Depp

pgs 1053, 1054, & 1062 of Day 6 Transcript Hilda Vargas

pgs 1185-1187, 1190 of Day 7 Transcript Kevin Murphy

pgs 1765-1768 of Day 11 Transcript Amber Heard

pgs 2471-2472 of Day 15 Transcript Proceedings

[lallyloo]

It’s Complicated

(This was just supposed to be a short little thing but it kind of got away from me..)

By the time the 3pm video call happened, Spencer had already talked to his parents. They were old hippies who didn’t know how to Zoom, so they just called from their landline. Brady stayed on his bunk while the phone call happened, trying to mind his own business, but he heard enough to know that Spencer’s parents really wanted him to come home, quarantine be damned, and they spent most of the call arguing. Spencer tried to tell them that even if he could come home it was too late to travel, and it was safer for him to just stay at school anyway.

The call ended quickly and Spencer suggested drinking after that.

They did a few shots before connecting to Brady’s aunt’s Zoom call, and when they did introductions he called Spencer his roommate. It was technically true, but it felt like there should’ve been another word for it – and Brady wasn’t sure yet what the word might be.

They fooled around a lot. Got naked together. Jerked off. Sometimes if they got too drunk they spent a lot of time kissing. Brady liked that a lot. Sometimes they’d wake up cuddled together on the same bunk and Spencer would slick himself up and fuck Brady nice and slow.

Sometimes Brady felt like he loved him.

They never really talked about it, and Brady wouldn’t say Spencer was his boyfriend, but he also wouldn’t say he wasn’t. He didn’t like to think about it too much. It was complicated.

So ‘roommate’ was the word he went with.

They’d put their masks on earlier in the day and managed to socially distance their way across campus to a little convenience store. Brady had been searching the freezer when Spencer came up beside him with his arms full of snacks.

“Dude,” Spencer held up a box of Ding Dongs, with his hand over the word ding. “Check it out – dongs!”

Brady laughed and high-fived him. It was stupid, but sometimes Brady liked stupid.

They bought the snacks and Ding Dongs, along with some frozen TV dinners and a tub of ice cream. They’d both been hoping for pie, but they knew it was a pipe dream when they were getting their Thanksgiving supplies at a campus convenience store.

When they got back to their dorm room, Spencer tried his best to shove the ice cream in the frost-coated freezer of their mini fridge, while Brady read the instructions on their tv dinners so he’d know when to start cooking them.

Spencer’s phone call happened shortly after, and then Brady was breaking out the vodka and trying to distract Spencer with a drinking game. Spencer suggested the Thanksgiving theme and they did a couple shots before the Zoom call, just to get themselves loosened up a little.

When the inflection in Spencer’s voice changed and he went a little nasally, Brady knew the alcohol was kicking in.

Just before three, Brady went down to the common area and put their dinners in the microwave so they’d be ready in time to join the family. He was a bit nervous about bringing Spencer to dinner, but a bit excited too.

When he got back to the room Spencer was wearing a dress shirt and his fake leather jacket.

“Dude, you dressed up?”

Spencer glanced down at his outfit. “Gotta make a good impression, man!”

“You obviously haven’t met my family.”

“I’ve seen your mom on your computer.”

“Yeah, so you know she’s nuts.”

Spencer shrugged. “She’s still your mom. I gotta make a good impression.”

Brady wasn’t sure if Spencer was forgetting the shot glasses and the fact that they planned to get completely shitfaced over dinner, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because the clock in the room said 3:01 and they were already late.

Brady set the TV dinners aside and quickly joined the video call. Spencer sat down a few seconds later, sliding in beside him in his pleather jacket, and they ended up having a great time. Brady’s family was ridiculous enough to encourage several more shots, and they got good and drunk while they ate some hot food. It was nice. The food wasn’t much different from their terrible cafeteria food, but somehow eating it together at a family dinner made it taste better.

Brady was feeling a little sappy by the end of it, and he was sad to miss out on his mom’s pumpkin pie, but watching Spencer smile at him from beneath an ice cream mustache seemed like an okay trade-off.

When Brady finally logged off and closed his laptop, they were both drunk and full and happy.

“You wanna lie down?” Spencer was looking at him with heavy eyes.

Brady nodded. “Yeah, dude.”

Spencer slipped off his jacket as they made their way to his bunk, and as soon as he was lying down Brady crawled in beside him.

They spent a good long while reliving the Zoom dinner and laughing about it.

“My Uncle Gary with that stupid turkey hat..”

“Turkey! Drink!” Spencer raised his hand as if he was still holding a shot glass but quickly remembered they were done drinking.

“It was turkey noises, drink.”

Spencer just waved him off with a smile. “Whatever dude.”

They talked about his Uncle Philip and Aunt Diane and Brady told a story about his younger cousins and how one Christmas they nearly set his grandma’s tree on fire.

The mention of Brady’s grandma suddenly had Spencer in hysterics. “Oh man, she was talking about her dookie!”

“Dude. Sick.” Brady grimaced. “Let’s not talk about it.”

When Spencer’s laughter died down he swiped his hand over his forehead, trying to get the hair out of his face. Then he looked over at Brady and smiled.

Brady smiled back at him.

He really liked Spencer but Brady secretly thought that his hair was pretty bad. It was too long, and cut weirdly, and dyed an inky black color which seemed to clash with his reddish beard. Brady didn’t even acknowledge the blue tips. It was just a weird combination over all.

He would never want to tell Spencer what to do or how to cut it, but the alcohol seemed to be making him brave. Or making him an asshole? Brady couldn’t really decide.

“Dude, you ever get tired of your long hair?”

Spencer seemed to consider the question for a moment before replying, “yeah maybe sometimes, like when I’m eating, and when I’m trying to watch tv, and when I’m sleeping.”

“You think–”

“And when I’m in class and the prof is writing stuff on the board.”

“Do you think– ”

“And when I need to brush it.”

“Dude.”

“And when– ”

“Dude.”

“Yeah dude?”

“What if.. like.. what if I cut it?”

Spencer didn’t respond so Brady continued.

“I’m good at cutting hair, I cut my hair all the time.”

When Spencer still didn’t reply, panic started to hit Brady a little. He wasn’t aiming to hurt Spencer’s feelings, but he was suddenly afraid that maybe he had. He silently cursed the stupid alcohol making him say stupid things.

“But if you don’t wanna” Brady stammered, “that’s cool too.”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Like, yeah that’s cool?” Brady asked carefully.

“I mean, like, yeah you can cut it.”

“Are you serious?”

“For sure,” Spencer nodded, pushing hair off his forehead again. “But we gotta wait until we’re not drunk. You got those shaky hands, bro.”

Brady raised a hand up to take a look at it. Spencer was right – his hands always trembled a little but it was worse when he’d been drinking.

He lowered his hand and looked over at Spencer. “Tomorrow?”

“Sure dude, in the morning.”

Brady smiled. “Awesome.”

He convinced Spencer to get up with him and they walked to the communal bathroom together to pee and brush their teeth. It was still pretty early, but Brady knew with the alcohol in their systems and the Thanksgiving dinner they’d both be passed out long before midnight.

When they got back to their dorm room Brady pulled his shirt over his head and Spencer unbuttoned his dress shirt and tossed it on the floor.

“You wanna kiss or something?”

“Yeah, man.”

Brady followed Spencer back to the bunk, and kissed him until he was too tired to keep his eyes open.

Brady woke to the feeling of Spencer’s hand on him, smoothing over his back, and when he opened his eyes the room was bright with morning light.

“You awake?” Spencer asked and Brady nodded into his pillow.

He secretly liked their early mornings together. The inflection in Spencer’s voice was different, softer and calmer, with less of the nasal twang he always had when they drank. Most mornings Spencer’s hands would be on him and they’d touch a bit and fuck, and Brady would happily go along with everything. It was in those moments he thought maybe he was in love. Maybe Spencer was his boyfriend.

But as the day went on Brady would push those ideas away. They were roommates.

It was complicated.

Brady thought back to the conversation from the night before and he really wanted to ask Spencer about his hair, but being sober made it a little more difficult and he definitely didn’t want to risk hurting Spencer’s feelings. So Brady kept quiet and just rolled over to look at him.

Spencer’s hair was pure chaos, a messy black and blue mop on his head, and maybe Brady gave himself away by staring at it, but Spencer was soon grinning at him.

“You wanna get the scissors?”

“Only if you want to, man.”

“Yeah, dude,” Spencer ran his hand through his hair, giving it a shake, “go get them.”

Brady jumped out of bed and searched his desk drawer for the scissors he always used on his own hair. He grabbed a towel from the closet, and a comb, and then pointed to his desk chair.

“Sit there.”

Spencer did as he was told, and Brady draped the towel over his shoulders and pulled it closed over his chest.

For such a chaotic pile of hair, it was surprisingly free of tats. Brady combed through it, brushing it down over Spencer’s face, completely covering his eyes. He needed to see where to cut and how much, and when Brady felt like he was ready he paused to look at Spencer.

“You ready?”

He could see Spencer’s mouth form into a grin beneath the smooth black hair. “Yeah, man, go for it.”

Brady went for the blue tips first, happily lopping them off, and then he surveyed Spencer’s head again. The loss of the blue tips left him with some sort of bowl cut and Brady considered it for a minute before moving around Spencer and snipping away at the sides and back.

Black hair continued to fall as Brady cut, and Spencer sat quietly, and if he was worried about his hair he didn’t say so.

Brady managed to cut the sides short, uncovering Spencer’s ears which he was pretty sure he’d never seen before. He stood in front of Spencer and looked back and forth, trying to make sure he’d cut everything evenly.

Then he nudged Spencer’s knee, pushing his legs apart, and he stepped between them.

“Time for the front,” Brady said, taking a deep breath. “Hopefully I don’t wreck it.”

“You won’t, man.” Spencer placed his hands on Brady’s bare hips and left them there as Brady started cutting.

It didn’t take long, just a few cuts, but Brady went slowly – holding out pieces and trying to cut things a bit jagged so Spencer wasn’t left with a blunt cut straight across his forehead. When he felt like he was done, Brady ran his hand through Spencer’s hair, trying to force it into some sort of style.

“If you put some wax in it I think it’ll look pretty good,” he said as he removed the towel from Spencer’s shoulders.

“Do you have any?”

Spencer glanced up, and Brady’s only response was to stare at the green eyes looking back at him. He’d seen Spencer’s eyes before, of course, but never so clearly.

“Dude, you’ve got nice eyes.”

“So do you,” Spencer smiled. “They’re so blue.”

“Yours are green.”

“I know, man.”

Brady leaned in to kiss him.

It was the first time they’d kissed without being drunk first.

Spencer’s hands strengthened their grip on Brady’s hips, and Brady couldn’t keep himself from touching Spencer’s face. His beard was still wild and scratchy, and it still clashed with his black hair, but it didn’t really bother Brady.

His hands moved lower, sliding down to Spencer’s shoulders and touching over him and when Spencer sighed against his mouth, Brady slid down onto his knees and unzipped Spencer’s jeans.

Brady had seen his dick before, usually when they jerked off or after Spencer fucked him, but they generally didn’t touch each other that way. But Brady knew what Spencer looked like, how long he was, and that he was uncut. Brady liked the way Spencer’s cockhead hid sometimes. He’d always been interested in it, wanting to explore because it was different from his own dick, but they never did that kind of thing, with his face in Spencer’s lap and Spencer watching him.

Brady thought maybe they should start.

He paused before reaching beyond Spencer’s zipper.

“Is this okay, man?”

Spencer just nodded slowly, “oh yeah, dude..”

Brady was slow about it, wanting to touch and look, and he watched the way Spencer thickened in his hand and the slit of his dick peeked out a bit as the hooded skin uncovered it. Brady gripped a little tighter, sliding Spencer’s foreskin down to uncover the wet cockhead underneath. He tried it again a few times, sliding the skin up and over the head of Spencer’s dick and then back down, pulling it taut as Spencer’s cock strained and leaked.

Spencer was sighing above him, “ahh Brady, please..” so Brady leaned forward and took him into his mouth.

Spencer’s dick was slick and salty and Brady licked over him, thinking about the way he liked his own dick sucked and trying to emulate it. Brady took him as deep as he could before realising it made him gag and he didn’t like that much, so he focused on licking and sucking on the end, using his hand to jack Spencer’s foreskin a bit. Spencer was writhing above him, making soft little whining sounds as he gripped the arms of the desk chair.

“Oh god, dude,” he gasped, “oh Brady, please, please keep going.”

So Brady did. He licked and sucked until Spencer was whining and coming down his throat. Brady had tasted his own jizz before and Spencer’s wasn’t much different, and it didn’t make him gag like the deep throating did. He moved his mouth over Spencer one last time, leaving him wet and licked clean, and Spencer leaned down to hold Brady’s face and kiss him.

“Oh man, you taste like me.”

“Obviously,” Brady grinned, “you just jizzed in my mouth.”

“I sure did,” Spencer smiled back, and then he slid down from the chair and joined Brady on the floor.

Spencer gave him a soft push, “lie down.”

Brady laid back and watched as Spencer knelt over him and loosened the ties on his joggers. His dick was tenting the fabric and Spencer looked at it before looking up at him.

“Can I suck you, dude?”

Brady’s eyes went wide. “God, dude, YES.”

He watched as Spencer pulled his joggers down and his dick sprung free, and then Spencer’s mouth was on him, wet and warm. Brady wanted to buck his hips up because it felt so good, and maybe Spencer knew it, because his hands moved to hold Brady’s bare hips again, pressing him to the floor as he took Brady’s cock as deep as he could. Spencer nearly gagged on it, and then he pulled his mouth back and completely away to watch the trail of spit and precum stretch between his lips and Brady’s cockhead.

“Spencer,” Brady gasped, wanting his mouth back, and Spencer moved down again, sucking over him nice and slow.

He’d had his dick sucked before, plenty of times, but Spencer’s mouth on him felt different. Sweet almost, and it gave Brady an odd feeling in his chest. He reached down to touch Spencer’s head, running his fingers through the fresh haircut, and Spencer glanced up at him, his green eyes soft and wanting as he smiled around Brady’s dick.

Brady watched him a little longer, enjoying the way Spencer’s lips moved over him, sucking him a little deeper each time. And when Brady felt himself teetering on the edge, he tipped his head back and pushed his hips against Spencer’s hands as he pulsed inside Spencer’s mouth. Those wet lips stayed tight around him, sucking every bit of jizz out of him until Brady was spent and unable to move another muscle.

Spencer flopped down next to him and after a moment he felt Spencer’s hand reach for his and they entwined their fingers.

“We should do that all the time.”

“Yeah, man.”

“Like, every day.”

“Yeah.”

Brady looked over and smiled at Spencer, and Spencer grinned back at him as he leaned in for another kiss.

It wasn’t really that complicated.

Brady was pretty sure he was in love. And Spencer was definitely his boyfriend.

[mandareeboo]

There are villains that I love that are just- "This character is an incredibly complex with interesting motivation which while doesn't make them right, does give us a new outlook and I hope they get a good redemption arc and make up for their mistakes" And there are villains that are like- "This one is a hot pile of stinky dookie set on fire and fucking own They are an absolute irredeemable trash. I love them, I hope they stay evil" (Eg Gandra Dee vs Magica, Catra vs Double Trouble, Scar vs Envy

I love complex villains as much as the next writer but by god do i love shit like "scarlemagne you didn't pay to enter" "AND I NEVER WILL" and Magica eating a necklace of garlic to make Violet a target for hypothetical vampires like VILLAINS OWNING IT AND BEING DUMB OF ASS ARE 10/10

[redwoodwrites]

Creepy or Not Creepy, That is the Chat Thread

Word Count: 986

Author: Redwoodroots on AO3, aka gosecretscribbles or redwoodwrites on tumblr

Prompt: “Danny Fenton seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to the general population of Amity Park. Or only seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to tourists, while Amity Park locals are confused by anyone finding Fenton ‘creepy/intimidating’.” Phic Phight ( @phicphight ) prompt by @phantomphangphucker 

  [Skepticality216 has entered the chat]

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Aw yis fresh meat

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: *chants* MEAT, MEAT, MEAT

 Skepticality216: uh, hi?

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Ignore them, apparently the two of them saw Danny Phantom fighting a giant spider ghost in the park today and they’re still on a geek high

 Skepticality216: Well that sounds…creepy

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Right?!  Spiders are not cute!  And the ghost ones are always bigger and you can see all the hairs…

 Skepticality216: What?  No, spiders are actually kinda cute.  Like chibi eyes on multiply.

 Phantom_Phenomenon: OH PLEASE NO XD

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Wait then what was creepy?

 Skepticality216: The phantom?

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Wait what?  Phantom’s not creepy

 Skepticality216: Yeah he is?

 Skepticality216: half the time he looks right through you like he can see something you can’t

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Like…other…ghosts?

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Phantom is awesome!  He’s like a regular teen but with superpowers

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Like Oh, truth.  Someone said he can also eat actual food, someone got a video of him eating chips yesterday

 Skepticality216: They didn’t like…see the food in his stomach, did they?

 Phantom_Phenomenom: Nah but that’d be hella cool, imagine him doing that in biology class

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: The education we all need  

 Skepticality216: I’m sorry, in what universe is seeing a ghost not creepy as heck?!

 Phantom_Phenomenon: When the ghost is super hot?

Skepticality216: Look I’m not saying I don’t like the guy, but his skin is literally so pale you can see little green veins of ectoblood or whatever!!

 Phantom_Phenomenon: New theory: vulcan

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Dude got me out of school once and covered the place in mystery meat.  Best day of my life

 Skepticality216: wait I’m sorry he covered the school in what

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Did anyone else know that mystery meat, when left uneaten for more than twenty minutes, forms a substance almost as strong as concrete?  School was shut down for two days, I had time to actually do my homework.  

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Truly, Danny Phantom is our hero

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Yeah, I’m not sure why he creeps you out @skepticality216

 Skepticality216: Aside from the creepy you-can-almost-see-his-blood-pumping?  Or how the air around him goes all wrong, like you’re standing in broad daylight but suddenly it feels like your soul just got doused in shadow and there’s fingers slowly crawling up your spine

 Phantom_Phenomenon: You sure that’s Danny and not the ghosts he’s usually chasing?

 Skepticality216: Pretty sure.  Once I walked into an arcade and looked up and there he was, clearly NOT fighting a ghost, sticking halfway out of a machine while these two kids crashed right through the high score.  

 Skepticality216: You could actually see the electricity sparking in an outline where his ribs and skull would be, and when he flew all the way out he didn’t even have legs anymore, just a tail!  He was a frigging haunted Nike logo!!

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Oh dude, dude, ECTOMERMAN

 Phantom_Phenomenon: I mean basically XD

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: I wanna know if he does the tail thing underwater

 LilydaleDoppleganger: I mean, kind of?

 LilydaleDoppleganger: I went to the aquarium once and when we got to the tank with all the mudskipper fish in it, my guide dog went nuts.  Turns out there was this bottomfeeder ghost thing in the water.  It just came boiling up, and Danny Phantom was already IN ITS ACTUAL MOUTH trying to fight it

 LilydaleDoppleganger: He didn’t actually have the mermaid tail thing although he scared the heck out of the shark exhibit next door when they phased right through the wall

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Come on Skeptical you can’t tell me that isn’t cool

 Skepticality216: I saw that on the news and almost lost my lunch.  There was so. Much.  GOO.  

 Skepticality216: Just goo EVERYWHERE.  He just shoots those rays out of his hands and boom, why does it look like alien dookie, why does it have to just QUIVER like that

 Skepticality216: It literally looks and smells like alien dookie!!

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: And you would know this because…

 [Danny_Dempsy has entered the chat]

 Danny_Dempsy: My Defend Danny senses are tingling

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Skepticality is offended by goo

 Skepticality216: I’m not offended, it just looks Gumby-flavored Jell-O and the way it JIGGLES

 Phantom_Phenomenon: I’m sensing some Gumby trauma

 LilydaleDoppleganger: To be fair, we all have some Gumby trauma *shudders*

 Danny_Dempsy: Be strong, O Lilydale, for we must educate young Skepticality on the perfection of Danny Phantom’s porcelain complexion

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Oh boy here we go

 Danny_Dempsy: His radiant beams of gooey light, the angelic halo of green ecto-energy

 LilydaleDoppleganger: XD

 Danny_Dempsy: Nah but in all seriousness he’s basically a modern superhero with lightning-fast reflexes, powers, and hella good looks.  

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: We’re all waiting for Dempsy to propose at this point

 Phantom_Phenomenon: Get a haunted room you two

 Danny_Dempsy: I’m TRYING

 Skepticality216: And nobody seems to find it weird that there is an actual DEAD TEENAGER just flying around the city and everybody’s cool with it

 Skepticality216: DEAD.  TEEN.  

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Rude

 Phantom_Phenomenom: Have you even been to a public high school, we’re all dead on the inside

 Skepticality216: You can see the veins in his forehead twitching like there’s actual green blood in him!

 Phantom_Phenomenon: How did you get close enough to see that and decide that the best thing to do was stare at his veins.  Way to put the ‘creep’ in ‘creeper.’

 Skepticality216: He explodes ghost guts into quivering piles of alien poop goo!!

 LilydaleDoppleganger: He is desensitizing us to the horrors of Gumby

 Skepticality216: I’m pretty sure he was walking around with two heads at one point and then he smooshed them together and he had ONE EYE!!!!

 Danny_Dempsy: One beautiful Harry Potter-green eye

 Skepticality216: I don’t get it!!  This is like the fifth chat I’ve been to and everybody is in love with Danny Phantom!!  Is it something in the water?!  How does nobody else see how absolutely creepy he is?!!?

 LilydaleDoppleganger: Maybe we don’t judge someone on their outside? Maybe we judge them for who they are on the inside.

 A_Curse_On_Both_Your_Haunted_Houses: Their gooey, gooey insides.  

 [Skepticality216 has left the chat]

A/N: As fun as this was to write I had a hard time coming up with ways for Danny to be creepy.  He’s just cool!  You know, in a really dorky way XD

[bwamp-bwamp]

hey ! im shameless so could i request an ace copular x reader?

Ace x Reader

//I hope this is fluffy enough for you, and I’m sorry if it’s major dooky, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

“Is that a slurpee?”

(Y/N) had just gotten home, quite literally JUST gotten home. She wasn’t even in the house yet, and here she was, staring at the green gang leader standing in the doorway of her apartment. She didn’t say anything as she slowly sipped the chilly treat she had gotten from the nearest 7-11, then blatantly lied to his face by shaking her head no.

Ace looked his girlfriend dead in the eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line and his fang peeking out ever so slightly. This happens every time one of them has a slurpee and didn’t get one for the other. But to be fair, (Y/N) had no idea ace was going to come over. “-is mine....” Was the only audible thing that her boyfriend could hear from her being a little more then eight feet away, and that’s all he needed to hear. “Wow, so you’re just gonna show up with only one and not even offer to share it? I’m hurt, there’s invisible tears in my eyes right now.”

The female held back a laugh and shook her head. “You’re just gonna show up at my house without your own? Wow.... I’ll think about sharing if you let me in.” She replied to the man who was being dramatic over a frozen carbonated drink as she walked closer. The pickle with slicked back hair thought for a moment before deciding to test his luck. “Only if you give me a sip right now.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Ace, who only wiggled his eyebrows in response, causing her to sigh with an eye roll before taking a quick sip. She held the cup up to him, knowing if she handed the cup over, he’d run off with it.

The 6’1 man frowned but complied to the others terms, taking just a sip, though it was an obnoxiously large sip, it was still a part of what they agreed to. He then stepped to the side and let his girlfriend into her home. “You gotta big mouth.” She stated while taking her shoes off, giving a little laugh before speaking again. “I hope you get a brain freeze.” Even though it was meant as a joke, a split second after, Ace made the unmistakable pained expression that was all to known. He held his forehead in an art to warm it and shut his eyes. The (body size) woman immediately felt bad for saying that right before it happened but did nothing to help, though it would all be over soon. “Told you so.”

After Ace recovered from the brain freeze, he looked to (Y/N) and stayed quiet, a devilish smirk on his face. She was making her way over to the couch to rest and savor her slurpee when she noticed that it got too quiet. ‘Oh no....’ she thought as she sat her treat on the coffee table before being tackled to the couch by her boyfriend. The bassist laid on her, his hands resting on her sides, smirk still present on his face. “You know what happens to cuties that say ‘told ya so’ to their boyfriends and don’t bring them a slurpee?”

She squirmed under him in an attempt to get free, knowing what was about to happen. “Don’t do it Ace Copular. I said I’d share, besides it’s your fault for not telling me you were coming over.” The (hair color) haired woman said before her green skinned boyfriend faked a shocked gasp. “Don’t turn this around on me, you still getting tickled as punishment.” Before he even finished his sentence, Ace started tickling (Y/N), smiling at the sound for laughing and snorting fest.

After a few minutes, she tried pushing his hands away from her ticklish areas, struggling to tell him stop from the loss of breath. The gang leader leaned over the female and gently kissed her one of her red cheeks, then grabbed what started the whole ordeal and took a sip before offering it to the one who bought it as she sat up. “Wanna watch random things on TV and judge them?” The tickle victim took the slurpee and nodded in agreement to the question, taking a sip.

The two of them moved around on the couch, getting comfortable in the cuddle “pile”, the still cool treat in reaching distance for both of them. (Y/N) turned the TV on and put it on a random channel. They stayed like that for a while, though neither really payed attention to the screen in front of them, too busy talking about the day they had before they seen each other. It wasn’t long after they finished talking did they actually pay attention to the show, but that was short lived as they fell into the grasp of a nap, holding each other and feeling comfortably warm.

[michelleplayswithfire]

Top 20 Top 40 Hits of 1994

Honorable mentions: Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm -- Crash Test Dummies (#4 -- peak Apr. 16) (#35 -- YE 1994)* Can You Feel The Love Tonight (From “The Lion King”) -- Elton John (#4 -- peak Aug. 6) (#18 -- YE 1994) I’ll Remember (From “With Honors”) -- Madonna (#2 -- peak May 28) (#13 -- YE 1994) Far Behind -- Candlebox (#18 -- peak Oct. 1)* Stay (I Missed You) -- Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories (#1 -- peak Aug. 6) (#6 -- YE 1994)* You Want This/70′s Love Groove -- Janet Jackson (#8 -- peak Dec. 24) (#64 -- YE 1995) Crazy -- Aerosmith (#17 -- peak Jul. 30) (#68 -- YE 1994)* This D.J. -- Warren G (#9 -- peak Sep. 10) (#59 -- YE 1994) The Power of Love -- Celine Dion (#1 -- peak Feb. 12) (#4 -- YE 1994) Come To My Window -- Melissa Etheridge (#25 -- peak Aug. 13) (#43 -- YE 1994) I Swear -- All-4-One (#1 -- peak May 21) (#2 -- YE 1994) Here Comes The Hotstepper (From “Ready To Wear”) -- Ini Kamoze (#1 -- peak Dec. 17) (#24 -- YE 1995) What’s The Frequency, Kenneth? -- R.E.M. (#21 -- peak Nov. 5)* Lucky One -- Amy Grant (#18 -- peak Oct. 8) Mary Jane’s Last Dance -- Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (#14 -- peak Mar. 19) (#77 -- YE 1994)* Tremor Christ/Spin The Black Circle -- Pearl Jam (#18 -- peak Nov. 26)*

20. Another Night -- Real McCoy (#3 -- peak Nov. 12) (#63 -- YE 1994) 19. 100% Pure Love -- Crystal Waters (#11 -- peak Oct. 8) (#46 -- YE 1994) 18. Whatta Man -- Salt-N-Pepa featuring En Vogue (#3 -- peak Feb. 26) (#14 -- YE 1994) 17. Flava In Your Ear -- Craig Mack (#9 -- peak Nov. 12) (#81 -- YE 1994) 16. Regulate (From “Above The Rim”) -- Warren G & Nate Dogg (#2 -- peak Jul. 2) (#22 -- YE 1994) 15. Streets of Philadelphia -- Bruce Springsteen (#9 -- peak Apr. 23) (#54 -- YE 1994) 14. Anytime You Need A Friend -- Mariah Carey (#12 -- peak Jun. 25) (#47 -- YE 1994) 13b. I’ll Stand By You -- Pretenders (#16 -- peak Dec. 3) (#95 -- YE 1995)* 13a. Because the Night -- 10,000 Maniacs (#11 -- peak Feb. 19) (#40 -- YE 1994)* 12b. Don’t Turn Around -- Ace of Base (#4 -- peak Jun. 18) (#10 -- YE 1994) 12a. The Sign -- Ace of Base (#1 -- peak Mar. 12) (#1 -- YE 1994) 11. The Most Beautiful Girl In The World -- Prince (#3 -- peak Apr. 30) (#19 -- YE 1994) 10b. What’s My Name -- Snoop Doggy Dogg (#8 -- peak Jan. 1) (#62 -- YE 1994) 10a. Gin and Juice -- Snoop Doggy Dogg (#8 -- peak Mar. 26) (#52 -- YE 1994) 9. Fantastic Voyage -- Coolio (#3 -- peak Jul. 30) (#20 -- YE 1994) 8. Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) -- US3 (#9 -- peak Mar. 5) (#41 -- YE 1994) 7. Linger -- The Cranberries (#8 -- peak Feb. 12) (#49 -- YE 1994)* 6. I Wanna Be Down -- Brandy (#6 -- peak Dec. 31) (#49 -- YE 1995) 5. Loser -- Beck (#10 -- peak Apr. 30) (#50 -- YE 1994)* 4. Shine -- Collective Soul (#11 -- peak Aug. 13) (#31 -- YE 1994)* 3. Mr. Vain -- Culture Beat (#17 -- peak Jan. 29) (#76 -- YE 1994) 2. Keep Ya Head Up -- 2pac (#12 -- peak Jan. 8) (#61 -- YE 1994) 1. Always -- Erasure (#20 -- peak Aug. 6) (#73 -- YE 1994)*

Albums Worth Checking Out: Dookie -- Green Day Ready To Die -- Notorious B.I.G. The Downward Spiral -- Nine Nich Nails CrazySexyCool -- TLC Illmatic -- Nas Definitely Maybe -- Oasis MTV Unplugged in New York -- Nirvana Weezer -- Weezer Grace -- Jeff Buckley Ill Communication -- Beastie Boys Monster -- R.E.M. Cracked Rear View -- Hootie and the Blowfish Sixteen Stone -- Bush Superunknown -- Soundgarden Korn -- Korn Live Through This -- Hole Smash -- The Offspring Parklife -- Blur Throwing Copper -- Live No Need To Argue -- The Cranberries

The Bottom of the Pile: You -- Candlebox (#78 -- peak May 7)* Cannonball -- The Breeders (#44 -- peak Feb. 26)* Closer -- Nine Inch Nails (#41 -- peak Oct. 15)* March of the Pigs -- Nine Inch Nails (#59 -- peak Mar. 19)* Afro Puffs -- The Lady Of Rage (#57 -- peak Aug. 20) Leaving Las Vegas -- Sheryl Crow (#60 -- peak May 21) The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get -- Morrissey (#46 -- peak May 21)* God -- Tori Amos (#72 -- peak Apr. 9)* Spin The Bottle (From “Reality Bites”) -- Juliana Hatfield (#97 -- peak Nov. 19)* Selling The Drama -- Live (#43 -- peak Jul. 23)* Laid -- James (#61 -- peak Apr. 9)* Fade Into You -- Mazzy Star (#44 -- peak Nov. 26)* Big Time Sensuality -- Bjork (#88 -- peak Feb. 19)* Sound of Da Police -- KRS-One (#89 -- peak Feb. 5)

Songs with Peaks Unavailable: Backwater -- Meat Puppets (#47)* Am I Wrong -- Love Spit Love (#83)* It’s Over Now (It’s Alright) -- Cause and Effect (#67)*

Alternative songs are the ones starred.

[marinaaniseed]

When I come around

Song: When I come around from the album Dookie by Green Day.

Summary: Doctor Strange is an absolute arsehole. Or is he?

Pairing: Female reader x Doctor Strange

Length: 679 words

A/N: Quarantine, COVID, pandemic, anxiety, depression, shitty behaviour, verbal abuse, throwing people’s stuff out. See here for what this is all about.

***

Living through a global pandemic wasn’t something you ever thought would happen, but here you were.

New York was the worst place to be stuck, especially the Sanctum Sanctorum. No garden, not even a balcony.

Your anxiety was through the roof. There was just an overwhelming sense of dread, not helped by Doctor Strange’s tales from the front line. In a rare display of selflessness, he’d agreed to rejoin the medical profession to help ease the strain.

He got up, went through a portal, then reappeared twelve hours later. Sometimes he’d talk, sometimes he’d be straight in the shower before heading to bed.

Wong wasn’t particularly good company, either.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Strange says one day, appearing in front of you, seemingly from nowhere.

“I know it’s really hard, but you’re doing such a good job. It means a lot to everyone that you’re helping on the front line,” you explain, hoping to cheer him up.

“No, I can’t do this anymore,” he notes, gesturing to you and your surroundings. Pizza boxes were piled up next to you, an empty wine bottle at your feet. You weren’t dressed, hadn’t washed, and your face was wet and snotty where you’d been crying for what felt like the dozenth time that day.

“I’m sorry, I’m just finding this really hard,” you mumble sadly.

“So am I, so is everyone,” he snaps. “I spend all day caring for people, and then I have to do it here too.”

“I thought you cared about me?”

“Yeah, I care about you, not for you. As in you’re my wife, not a patient,” he yells. “I’m working myself to death as you sit around feeling sorry for yourself.”

You immediately start sobbing, more snot running from your nose. You knew you weren’t doing well, but you were trying your best.

“Y-y-y-y-y-y-you-you-you-you promised,” is all you manage to get out. He promised. In front of witnesses, in front of a judge. In sickness and in health. He promised to love you and care for you.

“Dry your whining eyes,” he remarks cruelly, passing you a handkerchief. “You can't go forcing something if it's just not right. And this - this is not right. This is, this was a mistake. I can’t keep doing this.”

Crying so hard you can barely breathe, the handkerchief is little use. When it becomes clear that you can’t say anything in response, Strange speaks again.

“I’m going to bed now, try to get some sleep before I have to do it all again. So don't knock down my door,” he notes, turning on his heel and stalking away.

His door? Your door, surely? The door to the bedroom that you shared.

When you eventually stop crying, you grab a glass of water to try to replace all that you’ve just lost. You weren’t going to knock down the door, but you were damn well going to make sure he didn’t get any sleep.

Crashing through the building, yelling at the top of your lungs, you began gathering up his favourite objects, before launching them out of the windows, and onto the street.

Mean? Petty? Yes, both of those. But fuck Stephen Strange if he thought he could hurt you like this and not get hurt just as hard back.

He appears just as you launch your wedding and engagement rings out the window.

“What on earth is going on?” he asks, horrified.

“I could ask you the same fucking thing, or have you forgotten what you said less than an hour ago?”

“What are you talking about? I only just got home.”

“Oh really? Then who the fuck is that barricaded in ‘your’ bedroom?” you scream, adding air quotes for emphasis.

Strange has no idea what you’re talking about, but stalks down to your bedroom, with you in hot pursuit. He has to use a spell to open the door.

Perched on the desk, rifling through Strange’s papers is the man who invaded New York all those years ago.

“Took you long enough,” Loki tells you both, with a grin.

[tmarie82]

Friendly Distance

Pairing: Dr. Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Blake Reyes)

Book: Open Heart

Word Count: ~2,500

Rating: PG-13

Author’s Note: To be honest I wasn’t sold on Dr. Lahela right away, and apparently my MC Blake wasn’t either. But after a few chapters and a heart-to-heart, it seems we are both smitten with this beautiful scalpel jockey. I hope you enjoy my first attempt at bringing this wonderful pair to life.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. You can find all of my fics in my Masterlist on my homepage.

~~~~~~~~~~

Blake exited room 551, her head down reviewing the patient’s chart as she walked towards the nurses’ station. Based on the symptoms and patient’s medical history, she had determined IV antibiotics and a low-dose steroid should do the trick to clear up the mild staph infection that she’d observed during the exam. Smiling proudly to herself, she was about to pass the orders along to the assigned nurse when-

BAM! “Hey! Watch where you’re going Reyes!” She felt two hands gripping her by the shoulders as the files in her grip fell to the floor.

Shaking her head, Blake lifted her gaze to find herself face to face with one Dr. Bryce Lahela. Wearing his usual cocky grin, his silky hair falling down over his dark eyes, she had to fight her natural instinct to return a flirtatious smile.

Bryce was not the type of guy she normally dated with his confident swagger and smooth pickup lines, yet she found herself immediately drawn to him when she had met him on day one at Edenbrook. So much so that she’d ending up kissing him over a bet one night at Donahue’s, a mistake she had immediately chalked up to new job jitters and too many tequila shots. Reflecting on it the next morning, Blake had decided that she and Bryce were much better off as friends and coworkers … and that is how things had to be from now on. This was her job, her lifelong dream of becoming a doctor at stake here; she was not about to let herself get distracted from her goals by some charming surfer-boy who would probably end up breaking her heart.

“Oh, hi Dr. Lahela.” She kept her voice flat and her face blank as she swooped down to the floor to retrieve the papers. Bryce was right there with her, handing her the last document with a smug smirk. Blake mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ as she rose, then proceeded to avert her attention to the nurse behind the counter waiting on 551’s orders.

After thoroughly filling in the nurse and grabbing another stack of charts, she was surprised to find him still standing nearby when she turned around. Leaning coolly against the wall and chatting with another surgical intern, she noticed him perk up as soon as she turned. Blake pretended not to notice him as she started reviewing her next patient’s chart and walked towards their room, but soon enough he was hovering at her left side.

“You really should look around every so often, Reyes. Stop and smell the roses, per se.” Blake could hear the smirk on his lips before she raised her eyes to witness it firsthand.

“Thanks for the tip, Lahela. Can I help you with something?” She flashed him a soft smile, trying her best to keep a friendly distance between their bodies. Friendly distance … totally friendly.

“Have you eaten yet? I was going to go grab something in the cafeteria and I was-“

“I really can’t, Bryce.” Blake cut him off, knowing exactly where this was leading. “I have so many patients to see, I really can’t take a break right now.” She gestured to the charts in her hand with a shrug.

“Fine, your loss.” He flashed her another million-dollar smile, seemingly unfazed by her casual dismissal. “See you around, Reyes.” He gave her a sly wink before he pivoted back towards the intern he’d been chatting with earlier.

Blake found her eyes lingering on his departing frame as he walked away, definitely a little too closely to be considered friendly. The buzz of her pager brought her back to reality, calling her back to her charts and rounds. Just as she was about to enter room 553 to assess what she suspected to be a case of pneumonia-

“Hey Reyes!”

Blake gripped the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder to find Bryce watching her with a mischievous look on his beautiful tanned face.

“Don’t forget about the roses.” He murmured, this time his cocky grin hitting his target spot on.

Blake couldn’t fight the genuine smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. With an amused shake of her head, she gave him one final nod before entering room 553.

~~~

“I’ll need a full blood panel on room 574 and an MRI for room 580. And make sure Mrs. Harmon in 568 doesn’t order anything with dairy in it.” Blake handed over a stack of charts and orders, feeling as if she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Or the day at least … only three more rooms to see before she could clock out.

“Sure thing, Dr. Reyes!” The chipper nurse responded with a cheerful grin before bounding away to complete her tasks.

Grabbing the last three charts, Blake took a step back-

BAM! Blake felt the warm liquid running down her lower back and over the curve of her rear end down her legs. She closed her eyes for a moment, saying a silent prayer that that hadn’t been someone’s fresh urine sample that was now residing along her backside and dripping in a puddle on the floor at her feet. She inhaled deeply to calm herself, the stale aroma of breakroom coffee instantly easing her initial worry. She exhaled slowly as she turned to find her roommate Sienna, a now-empty cup of coffee in hand, with an uneasy expression on her face.

“Umm, hey roomie … I brought you some coffee?” Sienna’s voice trilled playfully at the end of her sentence as she tried to hand her the empty cup, a cheesy grin spread across her face.

Blake laughed in response, staring down at the pool of dark caffeinated juice at her feet. “While I appreciate the thought, I’m just thankful it wasn’t fresh. Otherwise you’d be treating me for second degree burns right now.”

Sienna giggled, grabbing a few towels off the laundry cart and dropping them to the floor to soak up the liquid. “I’m so sorry, Blake … here let me look at the damage.” She twirled Blake in place, raking her eyes up and down the back of her scrubs. “So yeah, it kinda of looks like you may have a case of E Coli or Colitis …”

Blake gave her an annoyed sideways glance. “Fabulous, you’re telling me I look like I shit myself.”

Sienna gave her an apologetic smile, shrugging her shoulders in agreement. “Look, I tell you what … you go down and change, and I’ll take these charts while you’re gone.”

Blake opened her mouth to disagree, the thought of handing off her patients an extremely unappealing idea, before Sienna butted in to stop her. “Uh unh! You can trust me, Blake. But your patients are gonna have a hard time trusting you with dookie pants. Now stop worrying and just go!”

Blake gave a frustrated grunt, but begrudgingly handed over the charts to her friend. “Oh fine! Just … start with 585, that’s an easy one.” She started walking towards the staff elevator, subtly clasping her hands behind her back in a vain attempt to cover the stains. “I should be back in time for Mr. Dominguez in 582!” She called over her shoulder as she slipped inside the elevator and made her way to the staff locker room in the basement.

~~~

Blake slipped inside the quiet locker room, making a beeline toward her assigned locker. She opened the latch and retrieved a clean set of scrubs, and was just about to tug her dirty top over her head when she heard a rustling somewhere in the room behind her. “Hello, is someone there?” She called out nervously, pulling her shirt back down to cover herself. So much for a few minutes of privacy.

Walking timidly past the rows of lockers and searching for the source of the noise, it did not take her long to find the culprit. “Bryce?” Blake found the other intern hunched over on a bench in a desolate corner of the room, head in his hands and his fingers twined through his shaggy hair.

Lifting his gaze to meet hers, Bryce put on his best attempt at a smile. “Hey Reyes. I guess you found me.” He shot her his trademark wink, but Blake could see the uncharacteristic melancholy behind the empty gesture.

“Bryce, are you okay?” Her voice was soft, unsure of what to say to him in his current state. She had never witnessed this man as anything other than his usual frisky and fun-loving self … something was up.

Bryce looked away with a scoff and a nonchalant gesture, avoiding eye contact as he focused on the lockers lining the far wall. “I’m fine!” The words came out as if a struggle, caught in the tightness of his throat.

Gradually making her way towards him, Blake settled in on the bench beside him. She slowly placed a hand on his broad shoulder, the warmth of his skin radiating through his scrubs against her palm. “Bryce …” she whispered, running her thumb along the fabric of his shirt. “Bryce, talk to me.”

His shoulders fell with a huff, and he lifted a hand to rub his forehead and down his face. Finally he raked his fingers through his hair as he turned towards her, leaving his locks in a pile on top of his head. His lips rested in a defeated line, not quite a smile nor a frown. “I really didn’t want to see anyone like this.”

Blake tilted her head, peering up at him through her lashes with a reassuring smile. “It’s just me, Bryce. Now what happened.”

He exhaled a long sigh, his eyes focused on the floor in front of him as he recounted the events of his afternoon. He’d sat in on several surgeries, the last one being a common appendectomy. “The head surgeon was so confident in me that he let me do the entire thing while he watched over my shoulder.” The statement came out almost apologetically.

“That’s great, Bryce!” Blake squeezed his shoulder in affirmation.

“Yeah … I guess so.” He paused, a stoic expression on his face. “Until he wouldn’t wake up. Apparently he had been under anesthesia for too long, when they tried to get him out his heart rate went through the roof and ...” He stopped mid-sentence dropping his head again to sulk for a brief moment before he straightened up on the bench, placing his hands on his knees and meeting her eyes again with a lackluster smile. “I’m just thankful that the experts were there to take care of him.”

Blake instinctively reached over and grasped Bryce’s hand between her own, cupping it protectively as she peered into his eyes. “Bryce, it’s not your fault. That could happen to anyone, no matter how much experience they have.”

Bryce shook his head and looked away. “It took me too long, I was trying to show off and do it perfectly and I put the patient at risk.”

“If that had been a concern, the overseeing surgeon would have stepped in.” Blake argued, placing a finger on his chin to turn his face back to hers. When his eyes met hers she saw a vulnerability she’d never noticed before … an emotion so raw and honest and human. Not the easygoing fun-loving facade she’d seen thus far but the real Bryce, scared and unsure like the rest of them, that she hadn’t known was in there.

Realizing she was staring, Blake dropped her hand to her lap and cleared her throat. “Besides, I think anyone would agree that the fact that you were trying to do it perfectly is a highly admirable trait in a surgical intern. Or at least I would if I were the one under the knife.” She gave him a weak smile, relieved to find he returned it with a soft chuckle.

“I guess you’re right, Reyes.” He shrugged, his body visibly relaxing as he kept talking. “It was just eye-opening, you know. No matter how hard we try, some things are out of our control. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Blake’s eyebrow quirked as she listened to his confession, an amused smirk on her face. “That doesn’t sound like the Bryce Lahela I’ve come to know. What happened to that carefree guy I met at orientation?”

Bryce chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, maybe there’s more to me than I let on.” He gave her a challenging stare, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Well, maybe there is …” Blake replied, the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach causing her to hope it might be true.

“So are you going to explain why you smell like day-old coffee grounds, or do I have to guess?” He inquired in a teasing tone.

Blake laughed out loud, relieved to hear the playfulness back in his voice. “You’ll never guess.” She quipped sarcastically.

“I’m going to go with … “ Bryce peered at the ceiling with a pensive look on his face, tapping his index finger on his chin dramatically. He then turned and met her gaze straight on, arching an eyebrow as he spoke. “You weren’t watching where you were going and you ran into someone with a cup of coffee.”

Blake pressed her hand over her face to hide the embarrassed flush of her cheeks, barely nodding her head in agreement. “Well, she kind of ran into me, but …”

“Reyes, what did I tell you earlier! You’ve got to take time to look around and enjoy life! Or at least stop bumping into people before the hospital has to up its liability insurance.” His eyes lit up joyfully and a wide grin spread upon his face, one she found impossible not to return with a laugh.

“I know, I know … stop and smell the roses.” She was surprised at how light she felt in the moment, the laughter dying down and leaving a sense of contentment in its place. Perhaps she should give more consideration to the Bryce Lahela school of thought … she could get used to this feeling.

“You better.” His grin faded slowly, his eyes darkening with sincerity. “Hey, um … can we keep this conversation between us? I’ve got a reputation to uphold and-“

“Your secret is safe with me, Bryce.” She cut him off, placing a hand over his reassuringly. Such a small action, yet it scared her how natural it felt.

A look of relief washed across his features. “Thanks, Blake.” The sound of her real name rolling off his tongue caught her off guard, the seemingly innocent gesture somehow so intimate. Still dazed in her thoughts she barely felt him shift on the bench toward her, not realizing his close proximity until she felt his warm breath swirl across her jaw. “You’re the best.” He whispered softly, pressing a light kiss to her cheek that lingered long after he moved away.

“See you later, Reyes.” She heard him mutter with a lighthearted wink as he departed, unable to do anything but smile as she found herself drowning in his dark eyes. Her gaze followed him as he slipped around the corner, remaining focused on the empty space he’d left behind until she heard the sound of the door close behind him.

Sitting alone in the now-quiet room, Blake lifted her hand to cup the cheek where his lips had been just moments before, still tingling from the slight touch. She grinned at the memory, allowing herself one last opportunity for sentimentality before she dragged herself off the bench to get cleaned up and back to her rounds. Maybe she had been wrong about Bryce and keeping a friendly distance, but for now she had work to do.

END

[ladyfl4me]

If it's ok to ask, how do you usually draft your chapters? Do you usually write a chapter in one-go without notes or do you usually write themes?

That’s absolutely okay! (yeehaw another Long Ass Answer about my writing process, sorry about that. buckle in, i guess)

Honestly it depends on the scale of the project. With short works, I usually do sit down and write without notes, following my gut. But i still like to make a little note at the beginning, just a few bullet points, to give me an idea of where I want the story to go; and if the story ends up changing as I go, then it changes. Having an end in sight does help the words flow more. like for “twas the nog before christmas” my initial outline was really short:

leo fucks up and orders 100 boxes of eggnog on accident

leo puts out a bulletin for a massive sale when the nog comes in a few days before christmas

duck and indrid run into each other there

snowball fight

a kiss

cast - duck, indrid, leo, guest appearances from aubrey and ned

problem, rising action, climax, falling action, conclusion. skidoosh, ya got a story. and then i just slam back a fuckload of coffee, put on some tunes, and let the spirit move me.

However, if it’s part of anything longer than a chapter or two, that practically requires excruciating notes, at least for me. I usually have about eight or nine “skeleton” points to start a story. My chapter outlines fill in the flesh between those skeleton points, or are based around those points, and I create new outlines for chapters as I see fit to get from point A to point B. Those chapter outlines go into excruciating detail, which works best for me because of my busy schedule. the more i have down in a raw, bland format - no printer just fax - the easier it is to come back and flesh it out into prose. Half the work is done for me that way. 

This technique is known as “scene blocking” in the film industry, where directors make note of where their actors are, what they’re doing, what the environment is, etc., without actually paying attention to dialogue until it’s time to do the script. (I’m not a film student, so I don’t have a more precise or correct definition. It’s a relatively well-documented principle, though, if you want to do some digging.) In writing, it’s basically the same thing: what happens in the scene, but not what is said or felt. Or, to frame it in amnesty terms, scene blocking is like those times at the end of story and song or stolen century where Griffin would be monologuing: describing scenes, character interactions, some sparse dialogue, dropping a nice fat exposition dookie that might have some prose to seal the deal and be memorable. it’s relative. 

I tend not to scene block in my outlines to that extent. If I outline in too much detail and prose, to the point where I basically just wrote the story but without any dialogue, that tricks my brain into thinking i’m done, and the chapter doesn’t get done for about a century. 

for example, here’s what my outline looked for the beginning of chapter 15.

spoilers ahead for TMWCIFTC Chapter 15, if you haven’t read it yet:

first, go over the plan while standing around: summon, use stern as bait, hem it in, and try to contain it, because if they starve it to death while it’s in physical form then it’ll die

1. summon it

a. aubrey and vanessa combine their magic to summon it. technically this is Big Magic because the Ashminder isn’t a monster, per se, just a starved, unhinged, and feral Sylph.

b. they need to cast the summoning spell somewhere far away, so they can keep it out of town. if this fight gets bad, then they’d be putting the town in danger, and they’re not willing to do that. they do it on Refuge Hill, overlooking the lake and the apartments. close to leo’s and duck’s home bases, but still on the outskirts of town.

2. bait it

a. the thing knows that indrid is The Place To Go For All Your Memory Needs, but for all intents and purposes it works on visuals only, and only gets a snapshot of who you are when it’s. like. touching your soul.

b. and stern has the disguise glasses.

c. so.

d. stern sits on a lawn chair overlooking the lake and Refuge Hill, sipping from a hot coffee, while aubrey and vanessa work the summoning circle for ye old motherfucker.

3. bring it on

contrast that against the actual start of the chapter:

They made their way to Refuge Hill by foot, by car, by snowmobile. Duck and Indrid trudged through the snow to the parking lot, where sledding families would leave their cars while the kids went up and down the slopes. Mama’s truck - the bed piled high with weapons - drove past them and into a parking space. Ned’s Snowcat chugged into the space next to it a few minutes later; it was loud and slow, but it did the job, and both Ned and Barclay stepped out of it armed to the teeth. Jake blasted down the unplowed side streets on his snowmobile, a scarf wrapped around his face and his eyes hidden behind his goggles. The moon was clouded.

Stern gingerly climbed out of the back of Mama’s truck, holding onto the inside of the door with a white-knuckled grip. The wind almost slammed the truck door closed on him; he flinched, shielding his eyes from the blowing snow. His borrowed green army coat blew to one side, showing his gun holstered on his belt.

“You ready?” Mama said quietly to Stern. The man nodded once and reached back into the truck for his travel mug of hot cocoa. On the other side, Dani stood on her tiptoes and pulled a folding lawn chair out of the bed of Mama’s truck.

They had a plan. As Stern unfolded the chair in the middle of the parking lot and gingerly sat down in it, Aubrey crossed all her fingers and toes. God, she hoped this would work.

One has prose, one doesn’t. And the actual beginning of the chapter was much more fleshed out, adding sensory detail and character perspectives; if I included the entire start of the chapter, as covered in the outline, I’d practically include half of the damn thing in this post alone. The outline that I do lists the who, what, when, where, and how; the prose is the why (character motivations, emotions, sensory detail, etc), which I don’t necessarily need to add until later. 

What matters to me is that I have at least a foundation to build on, so when I have some time blocked out I can go through and take down sections of the outline. I swear by scene blocking; getting the story down and out in a non-prose format was what let me write the rough draft of the first book of my fantasy series in 4 months, a couple years ago. It gets shit done.

So yeah - I tend to outline most stuff so I’m not floundering to find the story’s direction. Writing without an outline is pretty terrifying, but it can be done; I don’t always recommend it for anything longer than 1k, but whatever works for you! Thanks for the ask!