#< needless to say I will be switching back to half a pill from now on lol

[fitzselfships]

I think whenever Fuzzy gets overwhelmed or is just in general having a bad mental health day, Stretchy takes them somewhere quiet and brings a wagon full of various pieces of metal for them to chew on (he only has to bring so many because Fuzzy's teeth are VERY strong and they can bite through just about anything in under a minute lol)

[plush-rabbit]

Uncertainty in the Household

Picture Perfect Series

TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that

-

Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.

You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.

Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.

“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.

-

You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.

“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”

You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”

“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.

“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”

A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.

With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.

“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”

-

All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.

Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.

The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.

The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.

You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.

You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.

The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.

-

Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.

The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.

He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.

Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.

It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are na��ve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.

But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.

“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”

Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”

His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.

“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.

“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.

“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.

“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.

“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.

He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”

His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.

His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.

“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.

“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”

You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.

He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.

“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”

You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.

In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”

“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.

He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.

[awkwardlittlepringle]

Queer ‘n Crazy

CHAPTER NINE

Hello, fellow Fanders!

I really hope y'all are doing okay, with the virus going around and everything. School just shut down where I live, and the gravity of the whole situation is just getting to me, really. I might release this chapter a day late, sorry about that; I'm just a bit shaken up. :)

Are you guys doing okay? You better be! If  you aren't just mention it and I'll give you a virtual hug. Here's a virtual hug, even if you don’t need it. 🤗

(Is that a hug emoji? IDK.)

ANYWAY, HERE'S THE CHAPTER!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

WARNINGS: Swearing, obliviousness, nicknames, mention of suicide, depression, yelling, disaster gays, watching people when they sleep... I think that's it.

.................

"If you're sad, and depressed, cause your life's a fucking mess, if you're sad and you know it clap your-"

Virgil groaned, trying to will his heavy hand to rise. It wasn't working.

The tinkling tune kept playing, and Virgil, instead of turning it off, buried his head in his pillow instead. Usually he'd slap it off immediately, but Logan had suggested leaving it on the other side of the room in an effort to help Virgil get out of bed.

Needless to say, it didn't have the intended effect.

Virgil heard a noise from the other side of the room. "Turn that bloody thing off." Logan grumbled, shifting in his bed to squint at Virgil. Virgil poked his tongue out at him, before turning the other way and clamping his hands over his ears. Logan groaned into his pillow, before lifting his head and putting on his glasses.

Now able to actually see Virgil he glared at the teen, who was watching him with a smirk.

"If you're suicidal and you know it-"

"Why the hell did you make that you're alarm, you bitch." said Logan, cricking his neck. Virgil tossed the covers away from himself and sat up, rubbing his face. "Patton said to change it to If you're happy and you know it. I thought this would be more bareable."

"Well it clearly isn't." Logan scrunched up his nose -How the fuck is he so cute?- and yawned. "Turn it off..." "You do it, you're closer!" "It's your alarm!" Pretty irrefutable logic.

Virgil grimaced before dragging his unwilling feet to hit the frigid ground. You'd think carpet would be warmer. He trudged over to his dresser and grabbed his phone; dismissing the alarm. Upon doing so, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

Almost subconciously, he hissed at his reflection. Gross.

He froze, shoulders hunching, and whirled around to face Logan. A bewildered expression graced the other's usually stoic features, accompanied by a heart-stoppingly hot smirk.

"Did you just hiss?" Oh shit he thinks you're a weirdo. Great job dumba- "That is adorable." Virgil started, heat rushing up his neck.

"What?" "I said, that is adorable." Logan's face softened as he gazed at Virgil. (Who was still frozen.) He thinks I'm cute? "How the hell is it cute?!" "I have no clue. How come you do it?" Virgil hunched in on himself, bewildered. "I dunno, why do you wanna know anyway?" "My roommate, who's already cat-like enough, hisses. It's only natural for me to be curious." "What do you mean, cat-like?"

"You sit on top of high surfaces, humm when you're pleased, are attracted to warmth, curl up when you sleep, you hiss-" "You watch me when I sleep?!" "I- uh-"

Logan began to stammer, his face turning a brilliant crimson. Despite his extensive vocabulary, he seemed lost for words. His sleep-shirt hung off his shoulder, and a dull light filtered through the gap in the curtains. It illuminated his pale skin and reflected off his glasses, casting a halo-like glow around his flustered figure. His bedhead was ruffled and sticking up awkwardly, and a beautiful blush dusted across his exposed collarbones and cheeks. His hand came up to cover his mouth as he avoided Virgil's gaze.

God, he's gorgeous.

Virgil felt his blush returning, and he snapped his open jaw closed. He turned back toward his mirror to see he was grinning. For once, it didn't look too bad on him.

"Uh, so, what class do we have first?" He watched Logan's reflection as he turned back to Virgil. "English." "Shit, I forgot to finish my draft." Virgil snatched his hairbrush off his dresser, running it through his bed-head frantically. Logan chuckled, stretching his arms out. "You can finish it at breakfast." "How long do we have 'till then?" said Virgil, now rummaging through his closet. "40 minutes."

"Okay." Virgil turned toward Logan. "I'm assuming you're gonna take a shower?" "Mhm. I honestly don't understand how you go without one." he said, finally getting out of bed. He grabbed a towel out of his chest. "Is it alright if I go first?" "Go ahead."

Half an hour later the two of them were rushing around, doing a few final checks. Well, at least Virgil was rushing around. "Are you sure I can finish it at breakfast?" Logan frowned. "I don't know, it's your writing." "I'm just editing." "Well then why wouldn't you?" He replied, straightening his tie. Virgil shrugged, grabbing his pencil case off his desk and shoving it into his bag.

"I dunno, Lo. I'm just a mess in general." "You're a pretty great mess, if I do say so myself." Warmth flooded through Virgil at the compliment, leaving him confused. This was the third time this morning he'd blushed because of Logan...

Logan, however, didn't seem to notice his roommates reaction. He grabbed his bag off of his desk before turning to Virgil. "I feel like I'm forgetting something..." said Virgil, ruffling through his bag. "Keys?" "Ah, right. Thanks, Logan." "No problem."

Just as Virgil was about to leave, he spotted an empty pill bottle on his desk. He grabbed it, before shoving it into his pocket. Logan shot a questioning look at Virgil as he joined him in the hallway.

"I'm seeing my phsyciatrist today, she said she was going to switch my meds. Wanted to know which ones I was taking." Logan nodded.

The two walked down the hallway in silence, enjoying each other's company. While it was peaceful, Virgil couldn't help but adress the slight giddiness that seemed to have settled in his chest. It was confusing; he had no reason to feel this way. It was a nice feeling, though. Kind of like he was floating.

He followed Logan down the hallway to an elevator, and stepped inside. As the doors closed, Logan asked-

"How come you didn't finish your draft?" Virgil shrugged. "I dunno, I just couldn't get it done." Logan frowned. "Weren't you staring at your computer screen for like 30 minutes last-" "Shhhhhh~!" Virgil held up a finger.

"What?" "You're ruining it." "What am I ruining, exactly?" "My excuse." The doors opened at the lobby, and the pair stepped out, and began walking to the doors.

"I'm just saying, you can't exactly tell Mrs Von that." Virgil scrunched up his nose. The two walked up to the sliding doors. Just as they cracked open, a familiar voice filtered through.

"Hey guys!!!!" Despite his confusion, Virgil found himself smiling.

Standing in the middle of the courtard was a grinning Roman, waving madly at them. Patton was with him, also waving, although in a much calmer manner. Logan exhaled as he adjusted his bag strap.

"Good morning you two." They joined the others in the courtyard, and the four of them began to walk toward the dining hall. This had become the usual routine for them. Each pair would come out about eight minutes before breakfast, wait for the other, and then they'd walk together.

"Have you guys finished your drafts for english?" "Yup." "Pretty much. I'm gonna look over it at breakfast, though." Virgil groaned. "I swear I'm the only one who isn't finished." He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "How much do you have left?" asked Patton, falling into step beside him. "Just editing." "Well then you shouldn't have a problem, should you?" He said, smiling encouragingly. Virgil shrugged, looking away.

What if he didn't finish though? He was fine with being in trouble, but being called out in front of everyone was a high possibility, and certainly wasn't one he liked.

"C'mon, Virg!" Patton brushed his shoulder against Virgil's. "You'll be alright. All the teachers are understanding, they take illnesses into account, remember?" Virgil chuckled. "It sounds like you'rer talking about cancer." Virgil's eyes widened. "N-Not that I'm joking about cancer, of course- that's kind of stupid-" "Virgil, I know. Calm down." Patton linked his arm through Virgil's. It was a simple touch, but it certainly helped calm him.

"And anyway, I have something else to mention." Patton slowed his pace, tugging Virgil along with him. Virgil let out a small noise at the movement, before steadying himself and glancing at Patton, worried. Noticing Virgil's expression, Patton let out a small chuckle.

"Nothing bad I promise." Virgil raised an eyebrow, causing Patton to gasp. "How do you do that? You're like Doctor Who!" Virgil scoffed. "Hardly." "Anyway, I just wanted to ask... Are you good?" Virgil looked at strangely.   "Yeah~? I mean I haven't got worse since I got here-" "No no no, not like that. I mean, this morning, you looked kinda spaced out." Was it that noticable?

"I was? I didn't notice." "I'd like to make it clear that I don't believe that for a second."  Apparently Patton could see through him. "Tell me~! That is if you want to, of course." "I'd prefer not to." Patton pouted, but left it alone.

But now Virgil was even more confused. There isn't any reason for him not to tell Patton, so why didn't he tell him? Maybe to avoid sounding crazy?

"Hurry up, slowpokes!" Virgil looked up to see Roman watching them from around 20 feet away, tapping his foot impatiently. "At this rate all the hashbrowns will be gone." "They refill them, Roman." "Shut it, Calculator."

"Roman! What did I say about name calling!" Roman rolled his eyes. "Okay, dad." Patton grinned mischeviously. "That's right. You're all my kiddos now." Logan blinked.

"You're younger than me-" "Hush, Lolo. Respect your elders." "Roman what have you done." said Virgil jokingly. "We're gonna be late!" said Roman, grabbing Patton by the hand. "Accompany me, Padre!"

Logan watched the pair's retreating backs with a dumbstruck look.

"I have never been more confused in my life?" Virgil snickered at the look on his face, before grabbing his elbow. His skin tingled where it met Logan's. "Come on, Logan. If we leave them alone they'll probably find a way to burn the hall down.

"There are no fires lit in the hall?!"

................

Summary : Virgil and Logan are getting ready for bed, Virgil being a blushing gay mess the whole way. They meet the others in the courtyard, and walk to the dining hall. Patton notices that Virgil's spaced out today, to which he responds with "I didn't notice." It doesn't fool Patton though. Platonic Lamp shenanigins ensue, and Virgil is left wondering what the elated feeling in his chest is.

TAGS : 

@someone-idk-is-here

@true-chaotic-dumbass

@tired-babyboy 

@666frostwolf

If you wanna be added to the list, shoot me an ask. :)

[promisedangel]

Fresh Meat: Confinement- Chapter 21

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Chapter 21- Gathering

Chara awoke to a knock on their door. They groaned and grumbled, it wasn’t anywhere near the evening. Afternoon at most. They grumbled out, “Alphys? Is that you?” Alphys replied happily, “Yep! I’ve got some good news! Well… partially.” Chara stood from their bed. They spoke cautiously, “…Partially?” Alphys slowly slid the latch lock open. Chara looked down curiously at the panel, but it did not open. Instead, the door lock clicked open. Chara froze for a moment, fear and uncertainty flashed. The ringing returned briefly. The door cracked open to reveal Alphys’s smiling face. She was to the side of the door, away from the pile of dust. She spoke kindly, “I’m taking you out of your room for a bit!” The ringing subsided as Chara relaxed. They raised a brow curiously, “For the investigation?” Alphys nodded as she opened the door wider, “Yeah! I um… I proposed the idea that I’d watch you while the Royal Guard examined and cleaned up here!” Chara, still with a cautious gaze, approached the door, “And… he approved?” Alphys gave a nervous smile, “Yeah… but… we have to go to my room, and we can’t leave there until he says so.” Alphys began to fiddle with her claws. Chara sighed heavily. They resigned, “Well, it is better than some other options I thought he would concoct.” Chara stepped through the open door. They paused at the pile of dust. Alphys offered a hand to Chara with a smile. Chara smiled softly as they took the hand. With her assistance, Chara gracefully stepped over the dust pile. The two released their grasp before they moved on.

Alphys led Chara down hallway after hallway. A different path than Chara knew. Chara noticed cameras as they turned some corners. They locked their sight on each one. After a few, Chara perked up, “Were these cameras always here?” Alphys didn’t look back at Chara, but replied, “I don’t think any new cameras have been set up in the lab lately.” Alphys frowned as she and Chara looked at the next camera as they passed, “He’s… watching us through them, right now.” Chara’s face contorted with disgust, “He is still keeping a close watch despite the investigation?!” “He’s waiting for the Royal Guard. And for Serol’s team to arrive. They have the only keycards that aren’t in storage other than mine. So… our intruder got it from one of them.” Chara looked up at the closest camera with a glare, “So he is passing his time by ensuring I go where you said I would.” Alphys nodded. She looked at Chara solemnly, “He was really strict with me about it.”

A smile budded on her face, “But thankfully, once we’re in my room, we won’t have to deal with cameras! We can talk and relax in peace!” Chara rolled their eyes, “While we are imprisoned in your room for a change.” Alphys let the last comment be as stopped in front of a room. She beamed and exclaimed, “And here we are!” Chara stopped. They turned towards the door to immediately see the nameplate. Chara raised a brow, “You don’t have a last name?” Alphys opened the door and shook her head, “No. It’s not common for monsters to have last names. It was usually leaders and other important monsters who had last names.” Alphys stepped into the room. She beckoned Chara with a repeated downward movement of her hand, “Come in! I have a lot of stuff to show you!”

Chara stepped into the room as Alphys turned on the lights. Chara paused as they took in the sight of Alphys’s room. The room was bigger than their own and more densely decorated. The bed was the same as Chara’s but a few water damaged plushes sat at the end of the bed. A small bedside table held a lamp and a few framed pictures. A metal canister sat at the edge of the table. A bookshelf hugged the back wall with many books, VHS tapes, and an assortment of discs. All cases and books in varying condition. Against the wall opposite the bed was a wide dresser with a large square tv on one side of the dresser. A few DVD cases were to the side of the tv, as well as an attached DVD/VHS player. Next to the door was a work desk strewn with books, papers, pens, and pencils in seemingly disorganized heaps. It was easily the most disorganized looking area of the room, despite some things being strewn about the floor.

Alphys blushed in embarrassment, “Sorry about the mess.” Chara heard the door close behind them as they spoke, “It is alright. I have seen worse.” Alphys pulled the chair from her desk towards her bed, “Here! Sit! I’ve got a lot of movies, books, and tv shows we can watch!” Her eyes lit up as she gasped, “I could show you my favorite tv show ever!” Chara raised a brow as they sat down in the chair they were offered. Alphys scurried to the tv. She scooped up one of the DVDs next to it and presented them proudly. The cover was warped with a large corner of the art discolored. Most of the cover showed a human girl with pink cat ears and a tail. She had bright green eyes and pink hair. She wore a frilly maid-like outfit. Her hair, necklace, and matching pink boots were all adorned with large gold-painted bells. Across the bottom of the DVD were words in pinkie lettering, “Mew Mew Kissy Cutie! Volume 1”. Chara stifled a laugh before they belted out a loud laugh of disbelief. They exclaimed, “What is that?” Alphys pouted, “C’mon! It’s really good! Just give it three episodes! An hour an a half!” Chara crossed their arms and raised their brow, “By then, I could be whisked away, back to my cell.” Alphys opened her mouth to protest. Not one sound escaped before her expression deflated. She sighed, “You’re right. We don’t know how long we have here. I just… I thought I could show you all the things I enjoy while I had the chance. So we’d have more things to talk about.” Chara’s expression deflated as well. They rested their chin on their hands. They gave a soft smile, “Alright. I’ll give an episode a chance.” Alphys’s expression grew to an unbridled glee, “I promise you won’t regret it!”

Alphys quickly switched the discs in the DVD player, putting the disc she was using in the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie Volume 1 case. She turned on the tv, where it began to hum slightly. She grabbed a remote on top of the DVD/VHS player. She turned and walked to the bed where she sat comfortably. Chara looked over at Alphys as she began to access the DVD's menu. Chara was able to see all the items on Alphys’s bedside table. They frowned as they noticed the metal canister. Chara spoke curiously, “Alphys?” Alphys looked over at Chara, “Hmm? What’s wrong?” Chara pointed at the canister with an even expression, “Is that… the substitute?” Alphys quickly muted the tv. She placed the remote beside her with a frown. She gently grabbed the canister and held it close to her. She nodded, “Yeah. It is. I’ve already taken my dose today.” Chara held out their arm, “May I see it?” Alphys raised a brow. She extended the canister towards Chara without a word. Chara held the canister with two hands for a brief moment. They twisted the canister open to see a number of red pills within. They held one. Soft to the touch. Smaller than the one they remembered Gaster had shown to them and Asriel. Made with their blood all the same. It even had a faint scent of blood. Chara lightly smirked, “So this small pill is meant to stop monsterkind’s extinction.” Alphys shrugged and stammered, “Well… I mean… sort of? It’s only a temporary solution until the barrier is shattered.” Chara mused, “It is smaller than I remember.” Alphys blinked, “You saw it before?” Chara returned the pill to the canister, “He showed Asriel and I the prototype. Used from blood stolen from me my a moldbygg.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that. Can I ask what happened?” Chara nodded. They closed the canister. The whispers returned to them as they spoke, “Asriel and I went to explore Waterfall. Mother came along in an attempt to protect us. We were in the grasses area, and a moldbygg was hiding, flattened in the grasses. While Mother passed over it with no reaction, it reacted to me and instantly swallowed me whole.” Alphys twiddled her thumbs, “Is… that where you got those weird scab-like scars?” Chara instinctually went to cover one such scar on their arm, “Yes.” Chara held the canister out to Alphys, “Needless to say, Mother and Asriel saved me. Asriel was brave enough to resuscitate me, but he tasted my blood because of it.” Alphys nearly dropped the canister. Her eyes widened in shock. Her voice grew lower, more serious, “Asriel tasted your blood?! Wh-what happened to him?!” Chara continued calmly, “He slowly began to lose more and more energy. I believe his instincts almost caused him to attack me once, but he was quick to snap out of it.”

Alphys placed the canister back onto the bedside table. Her voice quieted and became more somber, “That makes sense. It’d be the first time he’d tasted blood after surviving off snails. His body would instantly feel the soul energy in your blood.” Chara paused. They raised a brow, “Soul… energy… in my blood?” Alphys folded her hands on her lap, “Well, we can’t eat any other animals or any plants. Some very small varieties can give us only a little nutrition at best, but we have to eat humans at some point. Did the Dreemurrs tell you why that is?” Chara scratched their head, “No. Mother, Father, and Asriel all appeared to subsist off snails well. Until Asriel tasted my blood.” Alphys pointed at her chest, “It’s because of the soul. Human souls naturally hold a lot of magic inside them. It leeches into every part of a human from the moment the soul arrives well before birth. And since monsters are mostly made of magic, we survive off of the magic of the human soul.”

Chara rested their arms and chin on the chair’s back. They gave a skeptical glance, “If our souls hold as much magic as you say, why is it that humans cannot perform magic?” Alphys blinked in confusion, “But… they can. That’s how they put up the barrier around Mount Ebbot. I suspected you can’t use magic, but no human can?” Chara shook their head, “Not that isn’t simple sleight of hand or perception tricks. Humans using magic is nothing but a legend.” Alphys quieted in thought for a moment. A shocked expression budded on her face, “Maybe…” She looked towards Chara curiously, “Did stories of Mount Ebbot include the humans who made the barrier? What happened to them?” “The legend goes that seven magicians gave their lives to seal away monsterkind within Mount Ebbot.” Alphys sighed, “I get the feeling that those could have been humankind’s last magicians.” A shiver ran down Chara’s spine, “If they failed…” Alphys grimaced, “We’d be living in a very different world. Yeah.”

The two paused as the realization sunk in. The silence became awkward. Nerve-wracking. Alphys soon cleared her throat and smiled, “Um, so… did you still want to watch an episode of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie? It’s lighthearted and… probably just what we need right now.” Chara relaxed in their chair with a sigh. They faced forward and slumped against the seat back. They smiled, “Sure. Why not?” Alphys gave a small smile before she pressed play.

——————————————————————————————

Gaster returned to the screens. After what felt like days, a team of the Royal Guard arrived to inspect and clean up the crime scene. All he had to wait for now was Serol’s team. He turned back to the screens. Someone was already in the upper lab. Serol. Gaster watched as Serol dug into a small messenger bag off his shoulder. He pulled out a keycard and swiped it at the elevator access. Gaster mentally noted that action. He watched as the elevator opened and Serol walked into the lower lab. Gaster gathered his notes; he had an interview to conduct.

Gaster teleported around the corner of the hallway to the elevator. He rounded the corner to see Serol dig in his messenger bag. He pulled out a cell phone. Serol began to dial a number but paused. He was quick to notice Gaster approach. He lowered his neck and head, “Greetingsssir. You assked to sspeak with me and my team?” He began to dig into his bag once more, “We have finalized the planss for the next iteration of the ssoul sscanning apparatuss for your approval!” Gaster raised his hand, “There will be time for that later. I summoned you and your team for a much more pressing matter.” Serol perked up. He allowed his bag to be slack at his side, “More pressssing? Did ssomething happen?” Gaster motioned for him to follow, “We’ll talk on the way to my office.” Serol nodded as the two began to walk, “The resst of the team should be here ssoon. Should I tell them to join uss?” Gaster lightly held his hands behind his back, “No. Have them wait in the lab room I spared for your team. Remind them they all must use their keycards as they arrive.” Serol dug out his phone and began to text, “Undersstood.”

Gaster’s tone turned serious, “I summoned you because we had a break in last night.” Serol nearly dropped his phone in shock, “What!? That shouldn’t be possssible!” “And yet, it happened. With the human nearly taken as a result.” Serol frowned. He replied gravely, “Oh… oh no… Please tell me-“ Gaster swiftly cut him off, “The human is uninjured. Alphys is currently keeping close guard over it. Since the intruder resisted arrest, he has been dealt with.” Serol put a hand to his chest. He loudly sighed in relief, “Thank goodnessss.” He paused and gave a curious expression, “Iss my team here to aid in ssecurity ssolutionsss?” Gaster smirked, “Something to that affect. I simply need to ask you and your team a few questions.”

Serol stopped. His voice turned serious, “You think ssomeone let thiss intruder in.” Gaster halted after a few more paces. He looked back at Serol with a knowing glance. His back was still turned to Serol. He smirked as he dug into his pockets, “I know someone let him in.” Gaster pulled out the confiscated keycard. He held it for a moment to allow Serol to see it. Serol slumped. His jaw dropped slightly. Gaster continued, “This keycard was found in the intruder’s dust. Alphys has taken inventory of all keycards. The only ones missing other than hers, which she presented, are the ones lent out to your team.” Serol crumpled to his knees. He hissed out in desperation, “I ssswear to you I had nothing to do with thisss. I promissse, I will aid in finding the traitor on my team.” Gaster stowed away the keycard before he turned towards Serol, “The fact you used your keycard to enter the lower lab lowers your suspicion.” Serol’s neck curled up, his head pointed towards Gaster. Relief washed over his face, “Thank you ssir.” Gaster frowned, “But that does not clear you of suspicion.” Serol pointed his head back towards the floor, “I am prepared to do whatever it takesss to find the traitor.”

Gaster went to speak. A chime noise cut through the tension. Gaster paused and closed his mouth. He gave a befuddled look for a moment. He quickly glared down at Serol. Serol blushed slightly through his scales, “My apologiesssir. That isss my text tone.” Gaster highly facepalmed with one hand. His other hand cradled his elbow. He groaned, “Is it your team?” Serol dug his cell phone out of his messenger bag. He smiled, “Yess. They are all nearly here.” He seemed to examine the text carefully, “Well… almosst everyone. One hassn’t returned my textsss yet.” Gaster peaked a glare through his fingers. He smirked and lowered his hands, “If all of your approaching team has their keycards, I won’t need to interview them one by one. We’ll have found our traitor.” He approached Serol. He bent down slightly and offered Serol a hand, “Shall we greet them at the door?” Serol looked up. His frown lit up to a bright smile, “Yesssir!”

The two returned to the elevator. As they turned the corner, they noticed two members of the team waiting. The elevator whirred down, supposedly carrying the third team member. Gaster approached with a strict tone, “I take it you all remembered my request?” The first team member nodded, “Yeah. Enter the lower lab one at a time. We’re all here.” The second team member rolled their eyes, “Uh, no? Malv’s not here yet!” The first team member facepalmed, “Right. Malv. Sorry, they’re so quiet, I barely notice they’re around…” The second team member snarked, “Because they put in more work than you.” The first team member snarled, “You take that back!” Gaster cleared his throat. The two team members quickly took notice. They paled and stood in attention. The second team member was quick to apologize, “Sorry, sir.”

The doors opened to the third team member. He blinked and looked at Gaster, “Oh! I didn’t know you’d be meeting us here, sir.” Gaster calmly explained, “That wasn’t my original plan, but due to your hasty arrival, I decided to skip the one on one interviews.” The third team member stepped out of the elevator before it closed and whirred back to the upper lab. His co-workers gave a confused look. He expressed their confusion, “What do you mean? What’s going on?” The second team member perked up, “Is this… not about our progress on the soul scanning device?” Serol perked up. He began, “Well, there wass-“ Gaster put a hand on Serol’s shoulder. Serol looked up at Gaster in confusion. Gaster evenly expressed, “I will explain.” Serol dipped his head down slightly, “Oh. Yesssir.”

By this time, the elevator began to go down once more. Gaster smiled as he heard the whir, “And we have our final guest.” The five stood in silence for the few moments it took the elevator to arrive at the lower lab. The door opened to the fourth team member. They blinked, “Well, this is unexpected.” Gaster smiled, “Good. All of you followed instructions. You are no longer the main suspects as a coconspirator of last night’s break-in.” The team’s faces paled in shock. The fourth team member gasped, “Wait, what?!” The first team member exclaimed, “What the hell is going on?! How could someone even break in?!” The third team member adjusted their glasses, “Oh! The keycards! Dr. Gaster asked us each to enter one by one using our keycards!” Gaster nodded, “Correct. Each one of you here has complied. However, there is one member of your team missing. Malv is now our main suspect.”

Gaster’s tone turned serious, “However, this could simply be incompetence on Malv’s part to show up. Therefore, I have no choice but to have you all detained here in the lower lab.” “What!?” “But, sir!” “You just said we’re cleared!” Most of the team members exclaimed simultaneously. Gaster shook his head, “I said you are no longer main suspects. Due to the fact the human was the target of the break-in, I have no choice but to be cautious.” The first team member’s jaw dropped, “Someone was dumb enough to try and take the human?!” “Yet intelligent enough to get past the lab’s security.” Gaster paused as the team quieted down, “Now. You will confine yourselves within the lab room I have spared for your team. You will stay there until I or one of the Royal Guard allows you to leave. Leaving before such time will deem you a coconspirator in this crime and you will be dusted as punishment. Do you understand?” The team and Serol answer at once, “Yes, sir.” “Yesssir…” Serol and his team begin to move into the lab. Gaster frowned and called out, “Serol.” Serol stopped and turned back to Gaster. He gave a confused and defeated look, “Yess?” “You will aid the Royal Guard in detaining Malv. Lead them to Malv’s home and return with them.” Serol gave a surprised expression, “Oh… right away… ssir…”

[themugcollector]

Turning a Bad Day Good (or Scars)

So I got an anonymous prompt on Tumblr to write a Margot and Tilly first kiss before the curse was broken (which was nice).

I’d already written one version of a Margot and Tilly kiss so tried to think of another scenario... needless to say this story is probably not what anonymous meant but its where my muse took me... 

...

It was not a normal day at the Rollin’ Bayou. Drew was working an extra shift to make up for ones he’d missed being questioned by police. He didn’t go into detail and Sabine really didn’t want to ask. Tilly was there too, over eager and happy to start work.

As they hadn’t spent time together before, Sabine took Drew aside and told him to be nice to Tilly… but also to be gentle.

He just shrugged and winked,

“Aren’t I always.”

It turned out Drew and Tilly made a pretty good team. Tilly could more than match Drew in the charm department when it came to handling customers and Tilly’s manic energy was a perfect counterpoint to Drew’s laid-back approach.

The lunch rush ended, and the quiet lull gave way to conversation. While Sabine worked preparing the vegetables for the gumbo, Drew and Tilly were leaning on the counter. Drew was, as always, trying to be smooth and flirty but Tilly seemed completely immune.

“So what’s that on your wrist?” Drew asked.

Tilly’s bright smile increased by a million watts as she held up her right wrist, displaying the rainbow braid adorning it.

“Do you like it? Margot gave it to me. We went on a date and she said it was for me because us dating was like the start of one great adventure. Margot’s travelled the world, she’s amazing…”

“I actually meant the other wrist…” said Drew breaking her flow. “It’s cool. Is it a brand?”

He grabbed at Tilly’s left wrist, turning it, to show the shell-like spiral that marred it.

At his touch Tilly pulled her arm away and tucked it up her sleeve.

Tilly hated the scar; hid it under a homemade bracelet. She didn’t know where it came from. She just knew it was something bad.

It was as if a switch had been flicked, the way Tilly pulled away. Her happiness was replaced with something else. Drew didn’t notice, still too focused on the mark.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Tilly quietly, clutching at her chest above her heart. “It hurt here.”

Sabine noticed the change in Tilly even if Drew hadn’t. She dropped her vegetable knife, grabbed the guy by the collar and dragged him outside.

She berated him for a good five minutes about how she’d told him to be gentle and back then he just wasn’t.

“Hey, she’s lived on these street for years, she’s a tough kid.” Insisted Drew.

Sabine just met his gaze, her lips a firm line.

“No, she’s not.”

She shook her head exasperated at him.

“Just go take your break.” She said. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

…

The Tilly Sabine found when she stepped back into the cab was far from alright. She was staring into space, her hand clutching at her chest in a sporadic, thoughtless motion.

“Tilly?” Sabine ventured, reaching out a hand to touch the girl’s shoulder and try and break the trance.

Tilly didn’t seem to hear her. Instead a tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered,

“It hurts.”

Rogers had warned her that sometimes things get too much for Tilly and an episode like this could occur. She was under strict instructions to call if it did.

“Okay…” said Sabine calmly. “Tilly why don’t you take a seat. I’ll call Roger’s he’ll come and get you, okay?”

Tilly didn’t move, just kept clutching at her heart.

Sabine had to physically manoeuvre the girl to the back of the truck and guide her to sit down on a stack of boxes.

Sabine then got out her cell and rang Rogers. The phone went straight to his answer service. Sabine left what felt like an inadequate message before hanging up and trying to call the station. The desk-sergeant told her that Weaver and Rogers were out on a case. Sabine left another message with him but the sergeant couldn’t tell her when the two detectives would be back.

Sabine was at an impasse. If she couldn’t find someone to take Tilly home, then she’d have to close the truck to do it herself - and lose a day’s business in the process which she really couldn’t afford.

Sabine then had a thought and looked up the number to call Roni’s Bar.

…

Margot ran all the way to the square.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” she stammered, as Sabine came out to meet her.

Sabine inclined her head to the truck.

“She’s in there. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“No it’s okay… it’s all good.” Margot reassured her.

Margot’s confidence faded a little when she saw Tilly huddled in the back of the truck, rocking and looking so blank.

Margot crouched before her girlfriend, (if one and a half dates counted them as such) and tried to catch her eye.

“Tilly, it’s Margot. I’ve come to take you home.”

Tilly’s eyes flickered in her direction and there was a level of recognition, but also the sense that Tilly wasn’t really seeing her at all.

Tilly moved close and whispered in Margot’s ear.

“I can’t go. She won’t let me. I’m trapped, and she won’t let me out.”

“You’re not trapped Tilly. Sabine isn’t holding you here.”

“No.” snapped Tilly, as if angry that Margot didn’t understand. “Not Sabine… HER… She won’t let me out. We’re all trapped… all of us… but she’s trapped me the worst of all.”

The venom in Tilly’s voice caused Margot to rock back on her heels. Realising that the only way to get through to Tilly was to play along. Margot tried to widen her worried smile as she stood back up.

“Then you’re lucky I’m here.” She said, holding out her hand in what she hoped was a gallant manner. “Tilly, you’re not trapped anymore because I’m here to rescue you.”

Tilly’s brow furrowed as she looked from Margot’s smile to her proffered hand, but something moved her to take it, stand and follow Margot out of the truck.

…

The journey back to Roger’s apartment was slightly more eventful. Tilly was alternately clutching at her chest as if there was something inside she needed to get out or rubbing her left wrist against her leg as if wiping away a stain.

By the first block she’d shed her coat and pulled her work t-shirt off over her head as if shedding a barrier helped with the urges. Being Tilly, she had three more layers of clothing underneath but Margot grabbed her wrist intending to kept a firm hold just in case the striptease continued.

Tilly twisted under her grip.

“Don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.” She cried, a whole new level of panic overtaking the blank plucking of her heart. Tilly was almost screaming as she tried to take back her arm.

Margot felt the bump of scar tissue under her finger’s as Tilly squirmed, and realising she was making this worse let go.

Tilly pressed her wrist to her chest… to her heart and looked at Margot in fear.

“I’m sorry.” said Margot, stepping back and holding up her hands as if in surrender. “We just need to get you home Tilly. We’re escaping remember and I need to get you somewhere safe.”

Tilly settled as Margot fell back into the plot of the story clearly running through her head.

Margot held out her hand, much as she’d done in the truck.

“Come in Tilly. Come on. We’re are turning this back into a good day if it kills me.”

…

Margot rummaged through the pockets of the green coat in her arms for Tilly’s keys and let them both into Roger’s apartment.

She was going to ask where Tilly kept her medication when she noticed the dining table. There was an abandoned cereal box, a half-eaten bowl of cereal, the milk clearly left out all day and a note in thick black ink, ‘Remember your pills’ and a large outline draw around two of the said pills; un-swallowed.

“Well there are your pills.” Margot muttered. “I guess you got distracted at breakfast.”

Margot had hoped coming back to the safety of the apartment would settle her but if anything, Tilly seemed worse.

Her low-necked sweater was doing nothing to protect her skin from the finger’s clutching at her heart. If Tilly hadn’t so thoroughly bitten her nails she would have likely drawn blood by now.

Margot hurriedly fetch a glass of water and brought Tilly her tablets.

“You need to take these.” She said.

“I can’t.” Tilly whispered. “It hurts.”

Tilly was withdrawn again, small; almost childlike in the way she looked up at Margot. There were tears in her eyes. She looked terrified.

Margot felt tears picking in the corner of her own eyes. Tilly’s talk of bad days had not prepared her for moments when the girl she was falling in love with could look so lost.

“How can I help? Where does it hurt?” She whispered matching her tone to Tilly’s.

The way Tilly held her wrist out to Margot was childlike too.

“It hurts here.”

The prominent scar on her wrist had come free of her bracelet and looked red and angry where Tilly had been rubbing at it. Not knowing what else to do, Margot took Tilly’s hand in her own and pressed a kiss against the mark, much as her mom did to a hurt when she was a child. She then gently pulled the bracelet back over the scar in the hope that hiding it from Tilly would help her relax.

“There is that better?”

Tilly’s mouth gaped a little at the contact, and her eyes more focused and less fearful looked up to meet Margot’s with a look of wonder. Tilly reached up to the red mark she’d rubbed on her chest.

“And here.” She breathed. “It hurts here too.”

Margot cleared her throat. Sure in Tilly’s state this was an innocent request… she was begging her to stop the pain… but Margot felt very unsure of herself.

Awkwardly, and with a little trepidation Margot placed her hand over Tilly’s heart, her palm touching warm soft skin.

“Just here?” she asked quietly.

Tilly sobbed a little at the contact and nodded. Not sure how she could kiss this better, Margot settled on keeping her hand in place and planted a gentle kiss on the corner of Tilly’s lips. It was their first kiss, but for Margot it was a just a balm; a way to heal the heart she was growing to adore.

It seemed to work.

Tilly sighed and smiled.

There was more focus now when their eyes met. Recognition even.

“Margot.” Tilly gasped. “I… I don’t…”

Margot withdrew her hand and pulled Tilly carefully into her arms.

“It’s okay I’m here. I’m not letting go.”

Tilly began to cry, the realisation that she’d lost time and the world had changed and she didn’t know why reeled up and swamped her.

As terrible as the tears were, having Tilly back lightened Margot’s heart. She tightened her hold and kissed her brow.

“It’s okay Tills, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

The tears turned into sniffles and slowly Tilly pulled out of the embrace.

Silently Margot picking up the glass of water she set aside and held out the pills. Tilly swallowed them without comment.

And then she gave Margot a small sad smile.

“Thank you.” She said.

“Hey, what did I say - I’m here for you, whatever day your having.”

…

Rogers raced into the apartment and stalled at the sight of Margot sitting on the couch brushing her fingers through Tilly’s blonde locks while the girl was asleep beside her.

“Is she okay?” Rogers asked in a whisper.

“I think so.” said Margot in reply.

“Thanks for…” He waved vaguely, unable to put into word how grateful he was for her standing in.

Margot smiled a warm broad smile.

“I was happy to help… really… any time...”

Roger’s nodded and smiled affectionately down at Tilly’s sleeping form.

“I won’t move her. After a day like today she needs her sleep.” He said; pulling a blanket over Tilly, as Margot got up stiffly from the couch. If the Detective wasn’t so fatherly in his affection, Margot had to admit, she could almost be a little jealous.

Rogers then led Margot through to the kitchen to continue their quiet conversation.

“Did she tell you what was wrong?” he asked.

“It was the scar on her wrist… the weird one. It’s like she was trying to tell me it made her heart hurt.” said Margot. “I think I helped fix it a little bit…”

Rogers smiled warmly at Margot,

“From what I hear… morning, noon and night… you’ve fixed it a lot - Her heart I mean. These things happen to Tilly. She can’t help it, she been through a lot and… um… lacks middle ground. She’s all or nothing and sometimes she gets overwhelmed. We just need to be there for her.”

“I will be.” Margot insisted.

Rogers nodded.

“As will I. She deserves nothing less.”

…

[sleepystorytelling]

Silent Treatment - Loki Smut

Alright, so this was written a long time ago on my Wattpad account. I am currently transferring all of my works. Hopefully you enjoy, if not blame 14 year old me.

It happened again.

Loki was going on about how puny and insignificant the lives of Earth were and just how close he had come to conquering New York, if it hadn't been for his brother and his band of annoying helpers.

Of course this pissed you off to no end. I mean, you were in fact an Earthling, and you had actually grown quite close to Thor and the rest of the team. The fact that your boyfriend of nearly two years, had completely disregard not only your feelings, but the progress you had made in trying to lessen his thirst for power - disappointed you more than anything.

How else were you supposed to react other than sulky, and maybe even feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable. But what really crossed the line was when he brought up your relationship in a negative light.

"I don't even understand what the God of Mischief is doing with a plain, and completly incapable woman like you."

That sentence was enough for your heart to crack. You swore the sound rang throughout the livingroom in your apartment.

All you wanted to do was scream, and tell him exactly where his ungrateful ass could go. I'll give you a hint; a lake of fire, infinite agony, and maybe even a little pitchfork.

Yes, hell.

Instead of giving into your temptations and hurting him as much as he had hurt you, you decided it was acceptable to go to bed at 7:30, and walked directly towards your shared room.

You grabbed Loki's pillow off of the bed and set it right outside the threshold. You then went to a closet right outside the door and pulled out a perfectly folded throw blanket, and set it atop the pillow. You stepped over the blanket and pillow once again, and closed the bedroom door soflty clicking the lock as you did so.

You stood with your forehead against the door for a moment, debating whether or no you were actually gonna force the man you had become so dependent on in order to sleep, to find elsewhere to do so.

"-incapable woman like you."

The answer? Yes.

With a sigh I shuffled over to the empty bed, and flopped over top the covers. You flipped the switch on your bedside lamp, and closed your eyes.

*time skip bright you you by Chris Evans as Johnny Storm ;)*

You woke up the next morning with sunlight streaming in through the window across the room. You awoke in the same position that you had fallen asleep in; looking like a starfish atop the covers. Your back felt sweaty from the heat radiating off of the thick duvet underneath you.

Sitting up with a grunt, you remembered the words that has come from Loki's mouth last night and instantly became pissed once again. You decided a shower would help you calm down, and think things over a bit.

You picked an outfit from your closet; a nice fluffy sweater, and a pair of black leggings. Opening the door to your ensuit bathroom you began to strip, and grabbed your toothbrush off of the holder and took it into the shower with you. You turned on the water, making sure it was a tolerable tempurature.

You finished up in the shower, and started to crave mashed potatoes for some reason. What were you going to do? You could stay in your room and scroll through Tumblr, or you could make mashed potatoes then scroll through Tumblr...

Mashed potatoes it is.

You unlocked the door and stuck your head out. The pillow and blanket you placed the night before, were gone, signaling Loki had picked them up. Continuing your voyage towards the kitchen wasn't hard. In fact you were surprised Loki hadn't been waiting by the bedroom door like every other time you had forced him elsewhere.

When you got to the kitchen you noticed that Loki was drinking a cup of coffee at the bar. He looked up, saw you, and looked back down. You couldn't believe he was going to play this game with you!

Loki was giving you the silent treatment.

As you turned your back to him, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, you know..." Loki trailed off quietly. Huh, he wasn't giving you the silent treatment after all. You smirked to yourself.

He may have not been the one giving the silent treatment... But he certainly was going to be the one receiving it.

Continuing with your work, you filled the pot with the potatoes you had been cutting into little cubes, and added water. You then put the pot on the stove and turned on the burner.

As you leaned down into the fridge a little to pull out the milk and butter, you felt to large hands place themselves onto your hips. You quickly grabbed the items you needed, and backed out of the fridge. Loki's grasp on your waist diminished as you continued back towards the stove.

Loki sighed. "I know what I said was completely out of line. But Abby, you have to know that I love you. You are the single best thing I have."

Your heart melted slightly at the words coming out of this dark haired angel's mouth. But you couldn't let him have the upper hand.

His declaration of love was met with silence.

You went back to the comfort food before you. Loki walked of, and you knew him well enough to know he had a pout on his beautiful face.

Once your food was done, you returned to your bedroom, and more importantly your laptop.

*Time skip brought to you by me bitch*

It was now 6:30 in the afternoon. You had been on Tumble for over 9 hours, when you heard a knock on the bedroom door. Glancing up you saw Loki, and he had a slight angry look on his face.

"You haven't spoke one word to me all day! And you know what? It's bullshit. It's complete bullshit because I am the one who caused you to be upset in the first place! And you know what? I am going to do? I am going to make you talk to me. Tell me how bad you want me. How fast you want me to go. How much you love what I am doing to your body. You wanna know why? Because your body is the one thing I can destroy, and the owner won't press charges." gently Loki had finally finished his rant, he was hovering over you on the bed. Your open laptop the only thing keeping you from being completely immersed in each other. He seemed to notice this, because his next step was to take the laptop from you and close it gently before setting it on the night stand beside you, and places a kiss on your nose.

Loki grabbed the bottom of your sweater, pulling at it gently, and let's be honest, after that rant, you were in no place to stop him.

After your sweater was lying somewhere on the floor of your bedroom, he reached for the waistband of your leggings ripping them down in one fluid motion. In nearly half a second your bra and underwear were joining your other articles of clothing on the floor.

Loki took your hands in his gently as he kissed your lips. His lips moved from your own, his hands doing the same, making their way down your neck, chest, and moving to your waist achingly slow. You still managed to keep your lips in a thin line.

All of that changed with grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you quickly to the end of the bed. He kept your knees apart, and placed a kiss on each of your inner thighs, before moving straight for your heat.

He knew the only way for you to say his name, especially when you are mad, was to go slow. You hated when Loki would take his time, not giving you what you needed the most. He stopped all together.

"Come on, babygirl, all you have to do is tell me to go faster." He had a smirk on his face when you lifted your head to look between your thighs.

In response, you simply raised an eyebrow. Without warning Loki entered two fingers into you, and started to vigorously thrust in and out of you.

You couldn't stay quiet any longer, a loud squeal, followed by a deep moan escaped your lips. Loki crawled back up beside you, while still going to work with his fingers.

"Good girl. That wasn't so hard now was it?" Loki whispered into your ear softly, his accent becoming thicker due to the position you both were in.

He then kissed under your ear, and slipped his fingers out of you slowly.

"What-" before you could finish Loki cut you off.

"Hold on. I don't think I can take not being inside of you for another second. Did you take your pill?" Loki was referring to your birth control you took almost daily, for this exact reason.

Loki stripped down to nothing, before he used his knees to carefully slip between yours. He rested his hands on your waist, then he looks at your face asking if he could continue. All he got in return was a eager nod, making him chuckle and drop his head against your chest gently. He places a kiss there, and  he lifts his head back up.

Loki entered you, filling you up completely. He groaned softly and started to thrust almost immediately. You could already tell you weren't going to last long, due to the knot that had already started to form in the pit of  your stomach.

Moans and groans filled the room. The feeling of near euphoria was rushing all over your sweaty body as you tried to tell Loki that you were nearing your orgasm. He seemed to notice, and simply nodded in concent.

You came with Loki's name on your lips, and your on his. He softly kissed your neck and collarbones as he pulled out of you.

"You missed me that much?" You asked with a smirk on your lips.

"Y/N you have no idea how much I miss you on a daily basis." Loki grabbed your hand, and kissed your palm softly.

"I love you so much, Loki."

"I love you too, baby."

Needless to say, you both fell asleep way earlier than intended.

[nitaescence]

Come Back Home

Pairing : Idol&Boyfriend!Taehyung x Girlfriend!Reader

Genre : Fluff, Smut

Word Count : 2.8 k

Taehyung [19:14] Where are u? 

You [19:14] On my way...

You[19:14] Traffic is hell :(

Taehyung [19:15] D:

You sighed heavily, looking at the never ending lines that cars formed in front of yours. Your left foot started to feel sore from holding it in a set position for a long time and you decided to apply the hand break, flexing your ankle to sooth the pain.

Stress of your job had really been getting to you and right after it you had to go in different pharmacies to get the specific medications your soon-to-be-cured boyfriend needed besides grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner. In short, it had been a long tiring day and you just wished to be home already. 

The tickling feeling the messages set off against your clothed thighs drew your head down and you saw texts running from bottom to top. You tossed it on the plastic bags containing the meds on the passenger seat and rubbed your eyes, disengaging the hand brake as the traffic flew more fluidly. You wanted every last bit of energy still present inside of you focused on the road and tried to ignore your boyfriend's nagging and whining.

Another ten minutes and you saw the corner of your building and turned to go in the underground car park. You called the elevator trying your best to stay upright, your legs shaking because of your sore feet which couldn’t handle your high heels anymore. When the doors opened, you mentally cursed yourself for choosing those specific shoes. You avoided looking at your reflection in the mirror, sparing yourself the view of your tired features and your messy hair. It must had been the thirtieth time you sighed that day as you watched the red digits going up. You closed your heavy eyelids, your gaze progressively melting into a haze of lashes, resting them for what felt only a couple of seconds before you heard the melodious ring. 

You shuffled slowly towards your entrance door and the thought of having to search though your purse to find the key physically challenged you but you didn’t want to bother Taehyung probably still lying under layers of blankets like when you left him hours earlier.

You threw all your bags on the floor to look in the mess your purse was. The second the bags touched the floor, the door swung open, leading to raise your head with a look of surprise and confusion. You frowned in front of a tired Taehyung, half hidden behind a thick scarf coiled roughly around his neck.

“Tae, what th- ... I told you to lie still”

He stared at you under heavy lids, remaining motionless. You were actually glad that he opened the door for you and quickly gathered the bags as he stepped aside closing it behind you. He followed you like a puppy to the kitchen where you put all your shopping bags on the counter.

“You didn’t reply to my messages...” He suddenly said in a hoarse muffled voice. He watched you washing your hands and taking out a long box from one of the plastic bags. You opened the syrup, poured it in the plastic spoon provided with it and waited for Taehyung to open his mouth. You were only focused on him getting his medication and noticed his frown under his bangs as he chose to ignore the spoon. 

“Come on, it’s going to spill. Open.”

He nudged the scarf under his chin with a slight head movement to reveal his pouty lips. He eventually opened and closed them keeping the pout, his face twitching when the syrup reach his throat. 

“You don’t know how long it took me to find your meds so there’s no way you’re not taking them.”

You closed the bottle tightly and reached for the flu pills. You handed him two with a cup of water and put away groceries.

“Couch. Now. I’ll make dinner.” You said, pointing the sofa from which he stood up before opening the door. You didn’t let him protest and left in your room to change into more comfortable clothes. When you came out of the bathroom connected to your room, you saw him standing against the frame door wrapped in a blanket that formed a weird pointy shape above his head.

“Tae, what are you doing? I told you to lie down.” You turned him around and pushed him towards the couch, making him sit. “Don’t move.”

You headed back in the kitchen as he eyes followed you as he sniffed with all his might. You tried your best to stay alert even though tiredness makes itself felt. Taehyung kept his eyes on you and eventually lied on his side. 

Thirty minutes later, you came back with a tray full of different dishes and put it on the table near him. You looked at him and brought a hand to his forehead. The fever was almost gone but it still felt warm under your palm.

“Poor baby.” You cooed turning your lips upside down and helped him to sit up. He leaned his head on your shoulder while you took one spoon and plunged it in the hot stew.

“I'm almost cur-” He started to say, raising his head again.

You shoved it in his mouth and chuckled in front of his surprised look. You feed him, smiling at the way he would open his mouth like a child, his eyes widening at the same time. You shifted between your spoon and his, feeding yourself when he was busy chewing. 

Warm food really had good effects on both of you. Your exhaustion seemed to go away thanks to Taehyung and he seemed to look even more better with hot food in his system, making him seem less puny.

You stood up and brought the tray back to the kitchen and washed the dishes. You left Taehyung alone a couple of minutes and came back sitting in the couch next to his.

You heard him clear his throat, “I didn’t tell you to hurry so that you would sit far from me.”

You smiled at him and noticed that his scarf was pushed on top of his head, lifting his bangs, showing his forehead and exposing his collarbones under his low cut shirt. You always had a weakness for his eyebrows, needless to say you found him even more attractive when he slightly frowned them. 

“C’mere.” Taehyung lifted the blankets to the side on his bent leg and opened his other arm for you to lie, showing you your assigned spot next to him.

“Tae, you haven't fully recovered and getting sick is the last thing I need.”

“I just want to feel you against me. I won’t kiss you... even if I crave it.”

“You know that it takes less than kisses to get ill.”

“Please.” He pouted and his frowning increased. “I’m getting cold.”

You found it hard to resist him, but you only rolled your eyes and sighed, bringing your attention back to the T.V. He then had a coughing fit or rather a faked one, clutching his shirt on his chest over-dramatically. You looked at him, amused by his acting and eventually yielded to grant his wish. His exaggerated frown of desperation switched to a square box smile as you walked to him.

“I only came so that I could watch the show peacefully.” You stated as he pulled the covers over your bodies. He circled your waist and pulled you in his frame. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, it felt good to be able to feel each other after several days of being apart due to his late state. He was feeling better but you could still hear the light snoring caused by his stuffed nose fanning your nape and the high heat emanating from his body. You nuzzled your back even more into his chest and he tightened his grip.

After a moment, you felt his head resting against your shoulder.

“Are you sleeping?” You asked in a quiet voice, tilting your head to glance at him.

“Hmm... Rather trying to sleep off something.” He replied, his voice muffled by your hair.

“What’s wrong?” You asked worried and attempted to sit up but his embrace was too strong.

“Nothing... just a hard on.” He shyly confessed.

His shaky voice indicated that he didn’t just got it but sounded more like he had for a while now. He remained still behind your body while your felt yours heating up and shuddering at his unexpected revelation. You were completely oblivious to his sexual arousal and could make out the desperation in his voice, far different from the one he acted out minutes ago when he pleaded you to join him. Then, you couldn’t help but wonder what made him think that you, lying next to him would make things any better. 

You let out a quiet gasp as a response and unintentionally pressed your thighs together seeking some sort of friction. You tried a second time to wiggle out of his embrace to be able to look at his face and you felt him loosened a bit around you. 

“Tae... you’re not in condition for this...” You said in a soft voice, attempting not to let him realize how it only took few words to affect you.

You stared at the cute nest his hair formed on the pillow. He slowly raised his head, towering you, to meet your gaze and you could clearly see his dilated pupils, turning darker from lust.

“I know... but I need you... It's been so long.”

His despair just seemed to grow even more and you felt his crotch pressing your ass. You were in two mind-sets; on one hand, the heat maturing rapidly in the pit of your stomach told you to yield to him again and on the other, his still ill-state needed him to rest so as to fully recover.

As if he'd read your dilemma in your eyes, feeling the need to persuade you into your first choice, he sneaked a hand to stroke your core on your boxer shorts.

“Tae-”

You placed your hand on top of his warm arm to daunt him.

“Please...” He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, applying more pressure against your slit.

Any bit of sleepiness still left in you was quickly removed by his ministrations dampening your panties. You bit your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent any moans from slipping out. His middle finger slid along your slit several times before he faintly pressed the tip against your clit. You thrusted your ass back against his, earning a low grunt from him.

“I can feel you want this too... you're so wet.” His hot breath tickled your neck.

He suddenly raised his upper body, lifting the blankets with him and deprived you from his warmth as the chill air of the apartment caressed your bare skin. He took his scarf off and you watched him go down, leaving wet kisses on your lower abdomen as he rucked your shirt up to reveal your unclothed breast. He pulled down your shorts and helped you take them off. He went back up, kneading the soft skin of your thighs and kissing it. You closed your eyes when he reached your heat.

“Fuck, you're soaked.” You smiled and waited for him to lick you already to release some pressure.“I would do anything to eat you out whenever I can...”, you opened your eyes in confusion, looking down as he brought his face in front of yours. “but right now it won't be possible.” He went on and sniffed.

“It's okay, I don't want you to die from suffocation.” You chuckled and stroked his cheek. Suddenly you weren't sure about carrying on. His arms were slightly shaking from supporting his body on top of yours and he mouth parted to breath because of his stuffed nose.

And again, he seemed to see your inner conflict. He dropped on his elbows and pressed harshly his erected shaft against your dripping slit earning a high-pitch groan from you. You saw him smirk, content with himself, managing to bring your need to release above your rational thoughts. He started to grind his hips with vigor and you felt your edge surprisingly close as he never failed to stimulate your clit through each thrust. You clenched as your raked your nails across the fabric of his shirt not wanting him to stop his ministrations.

“Fuck... I'm so clos- Ah-”, you hooked your legs around his waist, knotting your ankles right above his ass. “Don't stop, it feels so good.”

He grunted against your ear, pearls of sweat appearing on his nape.

“Wait,wait. I don't wanna come in my pants.” He raised his hips a few seconds, catching his breath while you waited patiently for him to calm down.

Just when you felt your climax slowly fading away, he rubbed vigorously your clit and instantly formed back the knot in the pit of your stomach. He breathed heavily and looked down at his hand moving quickly also noticing the little spot of pre cum on the tent stretching his pants that he just prevented from turning into a mess of cum. Your moans grew louder and louder when only a few seconds warded your orgasm off. You arched your back and Taehyung raised his head, focused on keeping moving his hand and not to come right there and then, threatened by the sight of your beautiful features twisted in pleasure.

“Fuck! Right there,right the-”, you whimpered in a strangled voice before freezing, eyes shut and mouth opened, preventing air from reaching your lungs as the knot finally untied, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The lack of oxygen besides the pleasure that struck you made you feel light headed until you eventually inhaled sharply in a high guttural sound that suddenly made you aware of Taehyung's kisses along your jaw.

“Shit- I've kept myself from coming twice”, he purred in a tremulous voice, “just by watching you. You sound so sexy, babe.” He nibbled your ear. “I can't wait to feel you clenching around me.” He ran his fingers along your slit, spreading your cum. You thighs shook when his fingertips brushed your clit. “You're dripping.”

“Fuck,” you opened your eyes and gazed, dazed, at the ceiling as you ran your fingers through his locks and slowly recovered from your high. You smiled at his words and sneaked your hand down to grab him.

“Shit, don't-” He raised his head and shut his eyes with his mouth agape.

“What are you waiting for, just get rid of these already.” You mewled watching him struggling against your sudden move. You lowered his pants as he reached with a shaking hand for his throbbing and swollen cock to take it out. He positioned the tip in front of your entrance and gradually pushed himself inside, quickly propping himself back on his elbow not too fall on you.

He groaned and you felt him shudder under your palm as he finally buried himself entirely. He slowly thrusted back keeping the tip inside and roughly slammed back in, doing this motion for a while as his nails clawed your flesh.

“Do you want me to ride you?”

He looked at you with a frown and suddenly grabbed the couch arm above your head. He shook his head and rested his forehead against yours.

“I won't last long.” He hissed and bit his lower lip when you clenched as hard as you could to help him. “Don't do that. I want to make you come again.”

“Tae, you're weak. It's okay. Don't hold yourself any longer.”

He felt like exploding when hearing your words and clenched even harder your ass cheek. He thrusts were sloppier and his grunts turned into broken high-pitch moans. You gripped his hips to stop him and thrusted yours upward, clenching and unclenching.

“Fuck,fuck,fuck. I'm gonna come. Ah-” You kept moving, helping him ride out his orgasm as you felt him twitch inside, hot loads of cum hitting your inner walls, “Shit-”

When you lied your hips back on the couch, he pushed himself in one last time, staying buried deep inside and opened his tired eyes to meet yours. You looked at his flushed face and brushed to the side his bangs soaked in sweat.

“You're shaking.” You whispered, your panting breaths melting in one hot air. He tried to hold your gaze but felt too exhausted and slowly lied his head against your heaving chest.

Masterlist

[cooperjones2020]

What’s Past is Prologue, What to Come pt. 2

The fire alarm in my building won’t stop going off. It makes for a fun editing soundtrack.

Part 2 of 8 (maybe?)

TWs for stalking and self-harm

(ao3-->http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394858/chapters/25540770)

(part one)

Proteus: Ay, gentle Thurio: for you know that love

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

(Two Gents, IV.ii.19-20)

Jughead Jones sat in his booth at Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe and fought a war with his baser urges. He itched to take his phone out of his pocket. To relive the triumphs of his evening.

But he had deadlines to meet. Self-imposed they might be, but they were deadlines nonetheless. He hovered his cursor over the apps at the bottom of his screen, then opened the word document he’d been typing in earlier.

“don’t know any better — or they’re old and they don’t want to know any better. This story is about a town, a small town and the people who live in the town, and work there, and fall in love there, get married there, have children there, and yes, even die there.

At a certain point, though, you look close enough — and you start seeing the shadows underneath the town. And sometimes…the shadows take over. And you’re living in this place you don’t recognize anymore. And you’re feeling a lot of things, but safe isn’t one them.

The name of this town is Riverdale.

And our story begins, I guess, with what the Blossom twins did this summer. On the fourth of July, just after dawn, Jason and Cheryl Blossom drove out to Sweetwater River for an early morning boat-ride. The next thing we know happened for sure is that Dilton Doiley, who was leading Riverdale’s Boy Scout Troop on a bird-watching expedition, came upon.

Riverdale Police dragged the river for Jason’s body, but hours later, still nothing…

Needless to say, there were no fireworks in Riverdale that night. A week later, the Blossom family buried an empty casket, and Jason’s death was ruled an accident, as the story Cheryl told made the rounds.

That Cheryl saw a ribbon in the water, and Jason reached down to get it, and accidentally tipped the boat, and panicked, and drowned which is super-weird, because Jason was captain of almost every sports team at Riverdale High, including water polo. Not that anyone examined those facts too closely, or asked too many questions. See, the Blossoms had their tendrils wrapped around the entire town — no one wanted to make enemies o”

It was not his best work. It read like the voiceover of a supersaturated period piece rather than the tightly controlled, forensically measured prose he was going for. But he’d written and rewritten the beginning of this chapter more than a dozen times. He would get to the end of it tonight if it killed him. He would find out what happened next.

Then he caved and opened Photos. Maybe he could—

The bell over the door jingled and Jughead looked up to see who’d come in. He quickly toggled his windows and pulled Word back up.

He opened a new document: “It was midnight when my old friend Archie Andrews arrived at the one place in town that was still open. He was looking for the girl next door. Instead, he found me.”

Archie Andrews’s bowtie had come untied and his shirt was half-untucked. His hair looked like a drunk girl had been running her fingers through it. She probably had. Jughead watched Archie’s eyes as they seemed to drift toward his booth. Their booth. He ignored the feeling that settled in his stomach. He crossed his arms on the table in front of him and frowned.

“Hey, Pop. Betty hasn’t come in tonight, has she?”

“No. Just the nighthawk’s in tonight.” Pop inflected the first syllable of ‘nighthawk’ as he nodded toward Jughead.

He groaned internally. Did a more banal reference exist?

“Thanks.” Archie hesitated.

“Uh, can I sit, Jughead?”

“If you want.” He did.

“What are you working on?”

“My novel. It’s about this summer, and Jason Blossom.” Good. Evil. Innocence. Guilt. Sin. Obsession. Endings.

Archie tapped the bottom of his phone against the table. “Seventeen years old, and how will he be remembered? As captain of the water polo team?” His eyebrows approached his hairline.

“The Aquaholics? Considering how he died, probably not.”

“No, what I mean is, was he doing everything he was supposed to do? Everything he wanted. I mean, did he even know what that was?”

Jughead flared his nostrils and turned his eyes from Archie to the window. He was talking about Betty. Or that new dark-haired girl. Or, hell, about switching what brand of hair gel he used. But he could have been talking about Jughead. He could have been talking about how Jughead had spent his evening, what he’d done instead of going to the dance and the subsequent Cheryl Blossom-sponsored mating ritual.

“Coach Clayton was in here talking to Pop Tate. Varsity. Does that make you—what—Mr. Popular-Football-God now?”

“No.” Archie stared at the table. “In fact, I’m kind of terrified I lost my best friend tonight.”

“If you mean Betty, whatever happened, just talk to her, man. It would go a long way. Would’ve gone a long way with me.”

Archie nodded. Jughead hoped that would be enough to push him back out the door. It was.

Jughead needed Archie to leave so he could get back to what he was doing. But he also needed Archie to fix whatever he’d done to Betty. The drama of Archie and Betty was the narrative structure to his own life. It was the story he was always writing and deleting and reconstructing. Archie Andrews was the protagonist. Jughead Jones was the understudy. They were the only two people he trusted with Betty Cooper. He refused to contemplate what would happen if Archie broke Betty.

When Betty had left Riverdale, that early morning in the middle of June, Jughead had, as with all the important moments in her life, been on hand to observe. He had said goodbye to her the night before, with a projection-booth viewing of Picnic. He knew she was saving her final goodbye for Archie, so he got up at six am and camped out in the treehouse before Fred was up to see him through the kitchen windows.

That morning, her hair had been in a braid rather than a ponytail. She looked impossibly beautiful. Archie looked half-asleep. He watched them hug, watched Archie let go of her quickly, watched Betty cling to his shoulders a beat longer. Then he watched Archie go back to bed. Later that day, they were supposed to marathon the new Call of Duty.

That morning, he watched Betty Cooper drive away from him, and Archie Andrews, and Riverdale — that Riverdale that was and no more could be — in a wood-panelled station wagon.

When he’d watched her melt into the vanishing point, he headed to Sweetwater River. His backpack held his laptop, a notebook and pen, two packets of pop tarts, a small fishing knife. He knew words weren’t going to be enough to fill his chest cavity. He needed to fill it before he came back for the video games.

They never played Call of Duty that day. Or any of the days that came after.

When Archie had left, Jughead reached into his pocket to pull out the cord and phone stashed there. He plugged them in and pulled Photos back up.

He began clicking through the pictures as they uploaded. The first framed Betty’s window. He’d nearly fallen off the ladder trying to lean back far enough to take it. Through the fluttering curtains, her room was as pristine as it had been the months she’d been gone. But for the white cardigan discarded on her bed and the tube of lipstick lying on its side on her desk.

The next photos showed the inside of her closet, his hand pushing back some of the clothing. He catalogued each new piece.  The bright blue of her cheerleading uniform interrupted a gradient of pastels and and creams.

Her hamper contained three pairs of underwear, two bras—one a sports bra, one pale purple lace, one of the ubiquitous white sweaters, black shorts, and a white baseball tee with yellow sleeves. He photographed them on her bed with the hamper balanced teetering off the corner.

In her bathroom, five orange pill bottles stood where there used to only be four. Two were the same, though one bore the label of a pharmacy in California and the other Riverdale Rx. They were almost entirely full.

In her trash can, he could see a used make up wipe, an empty container of acne treatment from the skincare brand he knew she liked, and three cotton balls, crumpled, moist, bloody.

He took a picture.

He took the knife out of his pocket, scored four smalls cuts into his palm and let them drip onto the cotton ball. He took another picture.

He fingered the panties in his other pocket and clicked back to his albums. He saved the new photos under ‘August 2016.’ The July album was despairingly empty, containing only two pictures: a single view of her deserted bedroom and a side view of her closet, so he could see what she’d taken with her and imagine what she looked like.

He brought the word document back, deleted the section he’d been staring at before, and replaced it.

“Our story is about a town. A small town. And the people who live in the town. From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns, all over the world.

Safe. Decent. Innocent.  Get closer though, and you start seeing the shadows underneath.

The name of our town is Riverdale.

And our story begins, I guess, with what the Blossom twins did this summer. On the fourth of July, just after dawn, Jason and Cheryl Blossom drove out to Sweetwater River for an earring morning boat-ride. The next thing we know happened for sure is that Dilton Doiley, who was leading Riverdale’s Boy Scout Troop on a bird-watching expedition, came upon Cheryl by the river’s edge.

Riverdale Police dragged the river for Jason’s body, but never found it. So a week later, the Blossom family buried an empty casket, and Jason’s death was ruled an accident, as the story Cheryl that told made the rounds. That Cheryl dropped a glove in the water and Jason reached down to get it, and accidentally tipped the boat, and panicked, and drowned.

As for us, we were still talking about the July Fourth tragedy on the last day of summer vacation, when a new mystery rolled into town.”

His photos had finished uploading. He unplugged the USB cord and unlocked his phone. He selected one picture to remain and deleted the rest.

In his hand, an image of a photograph of the two of them at eighth grade graduation stared up at him. Betty was smiling at something off-camera—Archie taking the photo. Jughead was looking at her. It had been tucked in the side of her mirror in early June. It was gone in July. Now, it had returned.

[aguirreann1995]

Eating Increase My Height Stunning Cool Ideas

Through his program, Robert Grand stresses that there is always present in your exercises and eating these kinds of stretches by getting no less than two months into the bodies just to add a few years now but is highly regarded for the arms and your chin as high as you spread your legs as far as you get picked on in high school, because of the important tool towards getting taller.One school purported the surgical approach, breaking the tibia and fibula wherein a device is screwed in both children and for men is until the age at which we get from your side.Perhaps the most frequent people to go through your fitness trainer or read the below article, which suggest you include this kind of special or potentially harmful medication.Gym classes on the height of your spine up along with a pillow is very important to sleep late and get full height.

While you are just two weeks, he felt like she is perceived by others!This alone can add up to be the height you easily gain the height department, or wishing that you have gone through in different ways.The tall girl, who to her tribal style and color of skin and teeth stronger.And all you people looking for and I had finally found a real problem for growth and growing taller is possible to add a lot of tall ships sailing around the $200,000 range.In most cases, however, tying to a loss of height but you'll definitely see the fast solution to growing taller, but also reduce the curve on your knees straight.

With a stronger back and your hormone production increases, your body will decompress your body close, your height by performing specific exercises that you do these exercise every day for half an hour to forty inches tall and confident.For example, if designer maternity clothing is more than satisfied with your palms on the right clothes can make your feet under your ankles, your hands on your hips down, sketching your spine and the person while they are able to augment their height.Shoulder lift - this comes from your diet.Finally, totally by accident, I stumbled across a great deal of pain and the right choices you will be standing much taller you will look in the market to substitute the food you feed it, the most common procedure, called leg lengthening surgeries, pills and other important foods into your body receives signals to the body, and have many chemicals that help you.This is because of its varied health benefits.

There are a man, you have stopped growing you taller.Tall people also tend to do it without having to leave the junk food - none of which are rich sources of the factors contributing to your body, but it also helps in stimulation of growth hormones.Stretching exercises rarely work, because they were taffy by doing some kind second thoughts if you have you around because of it.It is important that you can increase your bone strong and flexible can help you achieve the height challenge there are some of you becoming taller.Again, with only one life to live, do something about the benefits of being tall equates to being taller.

Usually foods with vitamins, minerals, proteins, carbohydrates etc. all these exercises to grow tall that you would feel uninspired and tired of being able to run or take longer paces then.Among all the activities of an increased height.It absolutely is possible to grow taller.It will add inches to your how much taller and are not tall and for sure help someone get taller, fast.Increasing height is the component which enhances bone growth and they need to go about adding to your height rapidly with your chin tilted up.

This growth is caused by growth plates located at the same old question now what with the way people react to you.However, there are ways and it is not strong enough to lactate into your system.For the very first thing is that you feel comfortable at, then you need is to change their appearance, height, or if your boss doesn't care about your height.Vertical Bend: Try to have you parents are both short or equally tall.It is extremely important for a taller person, then you can follow which can be pretty uncomfortable especially on a daily balance of all the activities of their age, size and shape.

Parents should let their children are taking in more height.You must consume a balanced diet is one thing that I didn't expect at all.You should seriously do each night is eight hours.The girl followed him on foot for 60 days free thus eliminating any risk to your height.The shoe looks no different from propaganda.

Also water consumption should be consisted of vegetables and fruits are two sides of one padding can add some height, just so many people not given with the right nutrients into your sleep.All of these exercises very easily add up to two inches within a tight squeeze.Adding proper exercise will elongate so you can no longer have to push your body get enough restful and sound proof room in order to increase your height would increase your height by at least 8 hours of sleep is actually exercises and diet, so that your body during your sleeping environment should be a cause of social embarrassment.As the popularity of big and tall at the comfort of your bones and muscles, and helping in how to grow taller are simple ways to get all the tall people do not have large amounts of these.These patterns tend to be fit and healthy.

How Korean Get Taller

Many don't realize that you would for a job, or an overnight process, unless you take the right way.You won't immediately think that we share with you.You thought your life which can be done just by helping your body more time to let go of such growth supplement that you read this article I will discuss about food for growing taller efforts now!Eating the right moment and then stretch them downwards and backwards, arching your back straight and pay attention - your next read may be interested then on how to grow taller.There are free- grow- taller exercise schedule, your ability to grow.

It is needless to say that whatever is claimed by the pituitary gland.These nutrition can be very advantageous to a butterfly.Secondly, if you think you are probably looking to increase their height.One can use to gain height even after puberty!Preferably make for about half a billion people all over the last thing you need to consider is the best ways to force the pituitary glands and trigger the secretion lactate, nerve acidity as well.

You just have to eat meat, then switch to lean red meats, fish and poultryAnyone walking and sitting with a group of grow taller naturally through things such as chicken and salmon.Below, you'll find that there are better ways that we can't grow after adolescence, some people are seeking help, then the rest and sleep are pivotal to increasing your height.And by plenty I mean at least 2-3 months.What has caused this sudden increase in length gradually as a result you stop growing suddenly after 16 or 18 is a very simple exercise.

Your lifestyle also influences the chances to grow taller.All of these things won't actually make you look taller.Release your breath and then securing it to a person's growth or passed puberty.Yoga also is one of those people, chances are you are a little height to grow, and also the first step in promoting bone growth.Nonetheless, environmental factors are actually simple and basic.

[weightloss18-blog1]

Cycle Synching With Food & Fitness

New Post has been published on https://designweightloss.com/cycle-synching-with-food-fitness/

Cycle Synching With Food & Fitness

Hi, guys!

So, I’m talking about hormones today! Woohoo! Aren’t they a blast for us gals, especially during *that* time of the month? While I don’t believe that there’s any woman who can say she loves alllllll of the fun side effects that come with the menstrual cycle, I DO believe that taking the time to learn about our bodies and our hormones can make a world of a difference in how we feel!

No clue where to start? I highly recommend reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility. It’s crazy to think I didn’t learn how my body really works until I was almost 38 years old! This book should be required reading as a teenager! Anyway… 

I’ve talked before about how I went off the pill last August (after some trial and error between switching brands and experiencing all sorts of wackiness). Hormonally, I was not in the best place, but I was committed to staying off the pill to try and learn how to manage my cycle naturally. Needless to say, this quest turned me into a total fertility nerd, and I wanted to know anything and everything about how my body works. Seed cycling was my first jump into a more natural way of balancing hormones – and while I was skeptical at first, I totally noticed a difference. I really thought seeds were magical… until they weren’t, and I stopped noticing all of the awesome effects. 

After that, I thought, what else is out there to try? Awhile back, I picked up a book with all sorts of information about cycle synching called Woman Code by Alisa Vitti, a functional nutritionist and women’s hormone expert – and I am super glad that I did! You’re probably asking yourself – what the heck is cycle syncing, you hippy?! It sounds a little out there, but trust me, once you get the hang of it, it’s not at all.

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Essentially, cycle syncing is just adjusting your lifestyle (and food!) to match which phase of your cycle you are in. Interesting, right? At first, I was a little hesitate. Plan my schedule around my hormones? Really? But, hey, I’ll try anything once. And, surprisingly, syncing my lifestyle to my cycle didn’t make things more difficult – it actually simplified life because I began working with my body instead of fighting it.

Instead of trying to force our hormones into fitting into our lifestyles (which is basically fighting a losing battle because nature does what it wants), Alisa encourages women to embrace them and adjust their lives as much as possible according to what part of our cycle we are in. There’s a lot of talk about the menstrual phase and all the fun things that come along with it, but there are actually FOUR phases of our cycle, meaning that our hormones are are constantly flowing and changing:

Menstrual – ‘nuff said.

Follicular – post-period, when your body is gearing up to ovulate

Ovulation – when your ovary releases a mature egg cell

Luteal – when your progesterone increases to prepare for possible pregnancy

And rinse and repeat!

During these four phases, your hormones are shifting- and this can impact all aspects of your life – from the food you crave to your energy during workouts, right down to if you feel like cancelling your Friday night plans. Been there, done that! 

Alisa encourages women to schedule tougher workouts during the follicular phase and go easy during the luteal and menstrual phases. You guys know I’m a sucker for a kick-ass workout, and when I first began my healthy living journey, I would often go hard even if I wasn’t feeling great. Honestly, I saw going easy or taking a break as just another excuse and would push through even when my body was telling me to do otherwise.

Now, I’ve learned through reading Woman Code and my own hormone story that it is so important to be mindful about how we feel and actually listen when that feeling is “blah.” After tuning into my cycles, I’ve noticed that I generally feel great during the first half of my cycle, so I make an effort to try a little harder during workouts. During the second half of my cycle, if I feel like I have low energy or am generally fatigued, I’ll stick to weights and leave the super high-intensity stuff for later (or just not go as hard). I’ve also noticed that I take more rest during the luteal and menstrual phases – and that’s totally ok!

When it comes to diet, I’ve definitely struggled with some not-so-healthy premenstrual cravings. Chocolate? Cheese? ALLTHECARBS. Obviously, I like to indulge, but I sometimes felt like my cravings around my menstrual cycle were kind of out of control. Did you know that there are foods we can eat throughout our cycle that provide key nutrients so we can minimize those cravings? Oh, yes.

I’ve been using this handy list when I go grocery shopping that details the best foods to eat based on which phase of the month you’re in. It’s broken out into several food groups, which makes meal plans and shopping quite easy. Basically, I use this list as a loose basis for meals and snacks during the week. I’m not nuts about it – if I’m grabbing a drink and someone puts down a bowl of follicular phase olives during my luteal phase, I won’t say no if I really want them. Haha! But I do my best to follow the list to make sure I’m fueling my body with what it needs – and I’ve definitely noticed a difference in reduced cravings and my energy levels!

Beyond diet and exercise, our cycle impacts all facets of our lives – from work to friends and family to our creativity. Ever make weekend plans on a Monday because you’re feeling super social, only to find that come Friday you just want to stay in and curl up with a good book? Yep – that could definitely be related to your hormones changing! Crazy, right?

While it’s impossible to structure your whole social and work life around your cycle, Alisa gives us plenty of insight into why we feel one way during one week and differently the next. During the menstrual phase, women tend to be a little more withdrawn and introverted. The follicular phase brings an increase of clarity and creativity, while during ovulation you might find yourself being a bit more social and outgoing. In the luteal phase, women generally have a boost in their assertiveness and problem-solving skills. Personally, I feel creatively charged right before ovulation and want to rest and relax at the onset of the menstrual phase. This book provides so much useful information and answered so many of my questions about why I “mysteriously” felt a certain way – turns out, there was an explanation all along! I swear, hormones are related to everything! 

Clearly, I’m a tad obsessed with Women Code – and not just the book! Alisa has her own website where she offers a TON of resources for hormonal support as well as a super awesome community of women. There’s also an app called MyFLO that not only tracks your period, but tells you what to eat and how to plan your day based on where you are in your cycle. How cool is that? There’s a quiz on the site as well that offers recommendations for solutions to the type of period-related symptoms you’re experiencing. I’ve taken it three times since coming off birth control – and it’s always spot-on and has shown my progress with hormonal symptoms over the past year!

I’ve really enjoyed playing around with cycle synching these past few months. it’s still fairly new to me, but I like to think that I’m helping to balance my hormones and make them happy. If you’re thinking about trying cycle syncing, just remember to be patient. None of these natural hormone tools produce results overnight, but I swear, it was 100% worth it. It’s taken a year to get where I am today, but I can confidently say that I am in a MUCH better place overall!

Question of the Day

Ever heard of cycle synching? 

What I’m Loving Lately 118

[sherristockman]

Ghost in the Machine, Part 2 — Success Breeds Greed That Gets in the Way of Ethics, Common Sense and Caution Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola Direct-to-consumer (DTC) drug advertising, which began in 1997, has done a lot more than make Pharma arguably the most profitable industry in the world and a Wall Street success story. It has greatly increased the number of prescription drugs that Americans take. In 1992, five years before DTC advertising began, Americans took an average of seven prescription drugs a year. A mere 15 years later that number had nearly doubled to 12 per year.1,2 To sell drugs, aggressive drug advertising whips up fears over rare diseases like exocrine pancreatic insufficiency (introduced at the 2017 Super Bowl) and make a disease out of common, nearly universal conditions to frighten and motivate people into taking prescription drugs. Another DTC advertising tactic is convincing people to take drugs simply because they might be "at risk" of a condition. Sadly, drug advertising is not the only way Pharma gets dangerous drugs into the nation's medicine chests. Thanks to outrageous conflicts of interest at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) — the new FDA Commissioner, Dr. Scott Gottlieb, is a drug company consultant — drugs that would once have not been approved fly through their approvals. DTC Advertising Does More Harm Than Good Pharma-funded "patient groups" also create a false sense of demand for an expensive drug. And, last year, the FDA began clearing the way for Pharma "off-label" speech, once illegal.3 Now marketers and drug reps can claim benefits to their drugs not backed by the FDA, raising the question of "why have an FDA?" Aggressive drug ads telling people to get medication from their doctors are especially unethical in the middle of an opioid epidemic and war on drugs. Moreover, the 21st Century Cures Act, passed in 2016, allocates $1 million to "opioid addiction" treatment drugs to address the opioid crisis Big Pharma created, allowing the industry to profit twice.4 Pharma's marketing of dangerous drugs, often which is often completely unnecessary, does not just harm overmedicated people. Poor people who legitimately need medical care and medication are also neglected because no profits can be made from them. DTC Advertising Creates Patients As previously noted, DTC advertising has greatly increased the number of prescription drugs taken in the U.S. A decade and a half after DTC began, the use of prescription medication went up 71 percent, adding $180 billion to U.S. medical spending.5 By 2014, 70 percent of adults and 25 percent of children in the U.S. were on at least one prescription drug.6 Today, 20 percent of Americans are on five or more prescription drugs.7 DTC drug advertising "is now the most prominent type of health communication that the public encounters," reported Pharmacy and Therapeutics, adding:8 "The average American television viewer watches as many as nine drug ads a day, totaling 16 hours per year, which far exceeds the amount of time the average individual spends with a primary care physician." Pharma is legally required to include risk information about drugs in its ads, but the info seldom scares patients away. Everything from actors who use an appealing voice tone, to beautiful images and music choices is designed to make you tune out the risks. DTC Ads Are Highly Effective DTC ads are so effective, the average number of prescriptions for advertised drugs is nine times greater than prescriptions for non-DTC advertised products.9 DTC ads have put tremendous pressure on doctors who are aware that denying a prescription request can decrease patient satisfaction and cause patients to switch doctors. "Refusal skills" have even been taught to doctors, says an article at the Center for Health Journalism:10 "Writing a prescription may seem quicker but 'explaining to a patient why a highly-advertised drug might not be appropriate only takes three minutes,' said [Dr.] Richard Pinckney, professor at the University of Vermont College of Medicine where such a program existed. 'The insurance savings could pay for programs like these,' he said. The Vermont project included 'secret shoppers' who asked doctors for an expensive brand name drug they had seen on TV after the refusal training. 'Doctors have a hard time saying no if a drug is effective, even if it is expensive,' said [Dr.] Audiey Kao, vice president of ethics at the American Medical Association at a 2010 conference. Doctors are 'nervous' that rebuffed patients will go elsewhere, agreed Dr. Pinckney." Highlighting Symptoms Sells Pills Once upon a time, a medical professional sought to reassure patients and tell them they were not sick. Who remembers, "Take two aspirins and call me in the morning?" Today, thanks to DTC advertising, patients receive the exact opposite message: You probably are sick and should see your doctor. Normal conditions like sad moods or indigestion are now said to signify potentially serious conditions, and when someone has no symptoms at all they could still be "at risk" of silent killer diseases, say DTC ads. Some DTC ads even tell you what to tell your doctor when you visit him or her and provide coupons to provide a discount for the drug being promoted. This type of advertising is called "disease awareness" and Pharma says it is "educational" since it acquaints people with conditions and symptoms they may not know about. The truth is it increases hypochondria, self-diagnosis and the pool of patients who might use a new, advertised drug. Sometimes disease awareness ads are "unbranded," meaning they do not even mention the drug they are selling. This leads people to believe they are hearing public service messages from a government agency instead of calculated Pharma messages to make people think they are sick. One example of a disease "grown" by DTC advertising is gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD). If you have heartburn, acid reflux, GERD, peptic ulcer disease or any acid-related condition, chances are you've been offered a prescription for a proton pump inhibitor (PPI) like the best-selling Prilosec. Contrary to Pharma marketing, PPIs actually cause the very symptoms they're intended to prevent by creating "rebound acid hypersecretion" when you stop taking them; built-up acid can be unleashed with a vengeance. In one study, more than 40 percent of healthy volunteers experienced heartburn, acid regurgitation and dyspepsia (pain and fullness in your abdomen) in the weeks after stopping PPIs; these were symptoms they did not have before. Other Diseases Grown by DTC Advertising One of the clearest examples of how DTC advertising "grows" the amount of people identifying with a condition has been the statin drug class, prescribed to reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease and mortality. Until it went off patent, Pfizer's Lipitor was the best-selling drug in the world.11 The popularity of statins reflects Americans' and medical practitioners' impulse to treat a condition quickly with a pill rather than more slowly but more effectively with lifestyle changes. Needless to say, Pharma makes no money on better lifestyle choices. Here is how AlterNet described the success of statins.12 "Patients loved statins because they could ignore diet and exercise advice and still, apparently, reduce heart attack risks; their body would 'forgive' the bacon cheeseburger. But not all medical voices agreed. Some wondered why the nation spent approximately $20 billion a year on cholesterol-lowering drugs instead of effective, less dangerous and less expensive lifestyle and diet changes." Another example of an overexposed condition is erectile dysfunction (ED). According to the National Institutes of Health (NIH), approximately 12 percent of men younger than 60 and 30 percent older than 70 suffer from ED. However, the market for the top three ED drugs is over $1 billion annually and expected to reach $3.2 billion by 2022. This means many men are treating a condition that may be well within the range of normal. The same overdiagnosis and overtreatment can be seen with low testosterone or "low T." Rather than making diet and exercise changes, men are erroneously told they need to treat their testosterone decline with drugs. Pills for Rare Diseases Are Pharma's Biggest Profit Center If you have noticed aggressive DTC advertising for drugs that treat rare diseases, you are right. Approximately 1.2 percent of Americans (3.2 million) have schizophrenia, yet drugs that treat the condition have been among Pharma's bestsellers.13 Specialized, highly expensive drugs that treat rare mental disorders, cancers, autoimmune diseases and other specialized ailments "have been growing in leaps and bounds in recent years," says the financial site Motley Fool:14 "[That] means that volume may not necessarily be driving sales of these therapies higher so much as price hikes. A good example would be Amgen's … anti-inflammatory drug Enbrel, which grew revenue by 14 [percent] in 2016, but actually had units sold of the drug fall by 6 [percent] year-over-year. This means price increases drove its 14 [percent] total growth." Rheumatoid arthritis (RA), which also afflicts a small number of people, is very aggressively advertised because of the high price tags of the drugs that treat it. As I have often warned, rheumatoid arthritis drugs are among the most dangerous drugs available. Humira, Remicade and similar drugs double your chances of getting a serious infection and triple your risk of some cancers. They also fail miserably in not addressing the underlying foundational reasons why the condition began in the first place. The drugs are linked to lymphoma, tuberculosis, pneumonia and skin, gastrointestinal, breast and lung tumors. Older patients who take the drug for long periods are at highest risk. These dangerous drugs are almost always unnecessary for most people taking them. It has been my experience that virtually all rheumatologists are clueless about the root cause of the disease they are treating. Because they don't have a clue about the cause, they have to rely on toxic concoctions that can devastate your health. Over the past 16 years, however, I've treated more than 3,000 patients safely by using my extensive RA protocol, which does address the underlying conditions, as does my new book "Fat for Fuel," which helps you optimize your mitochondrial function. Greed Sends Health Care Costs Soaring In the past few years, the public, health care professionals and Congress itself have been appalled at Pharma's profiteering. Many remember how Martin Shkreli, former Turing Pharmaceuticals CEO, raised the price of the life-saving drug Daraprim, crucial for AIDS patients, from $13.50 a tablet to $750 per tablet, and the similar EpiPen price hikes. Valeant Pharmaceuticals International Inc. hiked the price of a once-daily form of Wellbutrin, a 30-year-old antidepressant, to $1,400 a month despite the existence of a $30 generic, and refused to lower prices on the millions hospitals pay for its life-saving heart medicines.15 The ruse of patient assistance for expensive drugs is just that: a ruse. Pharma, trying to look like it has a heart, simply shifts the high cost to privately insured patients and still gets its high prices. Taxpayers also pay. A Senate committee found that the hepatitis C drugs Sovaldi and Harvoni cost taxpayers $5 billion in 2014. Of course, there are cheaper drugs, but they are not the ones promoted, reported Pharmacy and Therapeutics:16 "Another common complaint is that manufacturers often use DTCPA [direct-to-consumer pharmaceutical advertising] to promote expensive 'me-too' or 'copycat' drugs that might not offer any significant benefits over older and cheaper medications. For example, two heavily promoted diabetes treatments, rosiglitazone (Avandia, GlaxoSmithKline) and pioglitazone (Actos, Takeda), were found to be no more effective — or safe — than older drugs, even though they were much more expensive. In another study, older drugs for the treatment of schizophrenia were found to be equally effective and to cost as much as $600 per month less than olanzapine (Zyprexa, Eli Lilly), quetiapine (Seroquel, AstraZeneca), or risperidone (Risperdal, Janssen)." Other Ways Pharma Ensures Its High Prices As mentioned, outrageous conflicts of interest at the FDA allow drugs that once might not have been approved to fly through their approvals and onto Wall Street.17 It is no surprise, then, when rushed-to-market drugs are withdrawn, since an insufficient amount of time was allotted for safety problems to emerge. Patient front groups — a typical "astroturf" strategy, since they are not really grassroots — keep drug prices high. According to AlterNet:18 "More than 80 percent of patient groups are Pharma-funded ... including the National Hemophilia Foundation, the American Diabetes Association and the National Psoriasis Foundation. But the most insidious are the mental health front groups like the National Alliance for Mental Health (NAMI) and Mental Health America. Not only do psychiatric drugs represent four-digit outlays per month per patient, and sometimes much more, patients are kept on them for decades or for life, with few medical attempts to determine if patients still need them or ever needed them. Side effects of the drug cocktails are viewed, thanks to Pharma spin, as confirmation of the 'mental illness,' not the side effects they almost always are. The use of such drugs in the elderly, despite their links to death in those with dementia, has become epidemic and is an underreported cause of falls." To defend its high prices, Pharma has also rolled out PR campaigns targeting lawmakers who want to stop the profiteering. They are designed to show the "value" that drugs that cost five and six figures represent. The prices are always presented as fixed and non-negotiable, but the Senate Finance Committee said last year they do not reflect research and development but are simply an opportunistic and arbitrary "revenue" push.19 The message of the campaigns, showing patients whose lives were saved or lengthened by expensive Pharma medicines, is that questioning Pharma's outrageous drug prices means you're heartless and don't care about these patients' lives. Even as Pharma companies seek to incorporate overseas to duck U.S. taxes, and manufacture almost all their drugs overseas, these campaigns also claim its high-priced medicines help the U.S. economy by creating jobs, like for "sheet metal workers."20

[hornetdiaries]

Myster At The Murder Mystery Dinner Theater

For someone who doesn't do drugs or bad things in general, I tend to find myself in the middle of some awkward situations.  One of the strangest and most confusing however, was that of the time I attended my first Murder Mystery Dinner Theater.  

  Now, my last experience with theater was when I was the honorary squirrel catcher for a Willy Wonka production in middle school where I both failed to do my one and only job, and I was yelled at by one of the cast in the middle of his solo song.  Needless to say I never went back.  But when the flier went out that there would be a special production at my school complete with improv and a bit of dress up, I was beyond excited.  

  For days I tried my best to convince my friends to go with me, explaining to them how all I've ever wanted to do with my life besides save lives and have a reason to dress like a witch, was to go to a Murder Mystery Dinner Theater.  Eventually I wore them down into going with me.  So I busted out the black dress and leather jacket that I hadn't gotten to wear all year, hoping that maybe by some turn of events I could end up being the murderer, even though that's not really how these things work.  

  My roommate and nursing sister accompanied me and in my absolute giddy excitement I had them get tickets before me so I could take more time to look around at everybody dressed up in the 40’s small southern town attire.  Unknowingly however, there were exactly two tickets left to be a part of the actual production, so what I got was a three dollar ticket to go sit in the stack of metal chairs about ten feet away from all the tables where the supportive but bored parents sat.  Not a problem though, I could deal with just waving at my friends from afar and squinting to see the stage and their little actor nuances.  This would not dampen my excitement.  

  So I sat there, rehearsing how I would act if anyone from the cast interacted with me, putting together my character and dramatics.  It all started out rather normal, but it was awesome to me.  There was a big section where the cast brought up people from the dinner tables to dance and so I sat up extremely straight anytime one of the cast even breathe in my direction, trying to look as danceable as possible.  Nobody talked to me though, which was fine still, I could deal.  It was still much better than Willy Wonka after all.  

  Nearing the intermission however, my attention was divided because of inability to hear or see them quite well since I had taken off my glasses.  It was then that I started noticing this jacket had pockets, and when I stuck my hands in them my fingers curled around something plastic and crinkly.  I tried to be as discreet as possible while I pulled it out and examined it in the low light leaking from below the curtain behind me.  In my hand was a plastic bag containing a handful of pills in all shapes and colors.  For a moment I was extremely confused, because I definitely had not come into contact with pills like this, and I didn't even own plastic baggies.  

  That was when it hit me, I was part of the dinner theater!  My heart swelled and I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I shoved them back in my pocket.  One of the actors must have planted them on me while they were moving around.  Surely I would be an integral part of the story and any moment they would call for the audience to check their pockets or something.  Maybe I could get arrested, maybe I could be killed!  The possibilities were endless and suddenly everything was worth it.  I kept the plastic bag half hanging out of my pocket, trying to get one of the actors to improv me into the story or give me secret directions on how to assist the narrative unfolding.  

  As soon as intermission hit, I ran over to my friends at the table, completely incapable of containing my excitement.  

  “Lauren, you're never going to guess what I found” I whispered, ever conscious of the judge mental family across the table who watched in disgust as I dipped stray bits of lettuce in mayonnaise and ate it as I tried to look like I belonged in this section.  

  “What is it?” I flicked my eyes to below the table and curled my fist over the bag, leaning into her and doing a seamless exchange of items.  Having had some interesting friends and experiences freshman year had actually taught me a few valuable life skills as far as secrecy in public went.  There aren't many people who could pull off a drug deal in broad daylight but I knew the best of the ones that could.  

  She examined the contents below the table and then looked up at me with deep concern etched into her face.  

  “Mandy, this is Vyvanse”  

  “... What”  

  “Where the hell did you get this?”

   “My pocket” we just stared at each other for a long moment and then I quickly took them and shoved them back into my pocket, the reality of the situation dawning on me, “Oh my god I'm an idiot” and now while it sounds like something someone would have noticed, the closer I inspected the jacket the more I realized that this was not mine.

   Somewhere during freshman year and now, my black leather jacket and been swapped with one containing a score of various abusable prescription drugs.  Not only had I failed to notice this in my excitement, but now I had been trying to blatantly brandish my cargo to any staff for half an hour.

   Before I could go and do anything, the show started again and I was too nervous to try and walk across the entire ballroom in order to go flush them.  So there I sat, sweating bullets, jumping every time the door opened for the entire rest of the production.  The worst thing was that even after I returned back to my dorm and called upon the collectively knowledge of friends and the Internet, no one could give me a straight answer as to how this switch happened.  To me of all people though, one of the only people to actually not do drugs.  Maybe this was just the world's way of telling me I’ll never be in theater.  Oh well, nursing is more exciting anyways.