#BUT ANYWAY i put SOMEthing to paper which means i get to live another day 🥴

[cann1ballistic]

today’s doodle dump 🎉

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn

Previous | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

You feel sick when you wake. Muscles weak and body shaky. It takes more effort than you would like to peel your eyes open. You haven’t sat under a UV lamp in a while and it’s starting to show. The cocoon of sheets feels so good you don’t want to get up, to peel yourself away from them.

You realize Johnny and Kyle are gone as you sit up, all alone in the center of the massive bed. The room feels darker without them, somehow. Emptier. You roll over to climb off the bed, interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling under you. You feel around the mattress only to find a thick envelope with ‘Fancy’ neatly written across the front. As you open it, your breath catches in your throat at the contents. It’s nearly double what they said they’d pay. More than you could have ever hoped for. It makes your hands shake to hold that much money all at once. Once the shock wears off, a folded up piece of paper catches your eye.

Hey lovie,

Sorry to take off without saying goodbye. Had some business to attend to. Figured we should let you sleep. Hope you won’t be too mad ;)

We left a little extra for spending the night. Nothing like cuddling up next to a soft, warm lady.

Let’s do it again soon.

Kyle + Johnny

The handwriting changes to a messy scrawl that you have to squint to make out.

P.S. You look bonnie in my shirt. Gonnae be thinking about that all day. Feel free to take it with you.

P.S.S. I want it back unwashed.

You can’t help but snicker to yourself. Damn dirty dog.

You have no reason to deny him, though. So you slip the t-shirt on over your dress as you get ready to leave. The dress feels far too constrictive for the early morning. This is why you don’t do nights - walking out looking like a mess in the itchy day old clothes. You give up looking for your panties which seem to have evaporated, not too keen on putting them back on anyway.

Before you can tip-toe your way out to the front door, you find yourself pausing. The kitchen light is on, illuminating a figure working over the stove. Curiosity gets the better of you and you circle around the counter to see John sorting ingredients in nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. Strong, nicely hairy chest on full display.

And they call you and slut.

“Good morning.” He flashes you a bright smile. Of course he noticed you. He probably smelled you before he even heard you leave the bedroom.

“Sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude.” You mumble awkwardly.

“No, no. I was hoping you’d stop f’me. My boys treat you alright?” He eyes your shirt.

Being asked that a second time throws you off. Why the hell do they care so much? “They did.”

“Good. Good.” He smiles warmly. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

You scoff. “You? No offense but I’d rather take my chances with the nearest dumpster.”

“Contrary to popular belief, some of us remember how to cook.”

You glance at the half-dozen cart of eggs and perfectly fresh vegetables neatly arranged across the counter. “And you just happened to have human food on hand?”

He pauses. “…I may have had some delivered.”

John turns back to the stove, muttering something under his breath about ‘too smart for her own damn good.’

You pad over beside him to look down at the food, staring at the spread. You point at some red thing you don’t recognize. “What is that?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “The tomato?”

“Tomatoes are purple.” You poke it. “And more squishy.”

You meet his eye and for a brief moment, you think you see pity. Something sad swirling in the blue of his irises. He schools his face back to neutral before you can be sure you saw anything at all.

“Well, hopefully you trust an old codger like me to make you a half-decent omelette.”

You snort, leaning back on the kitchen island. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

You both lapse into silence. He does seem to know what he’s doing - carefully chopping the vegetables and carefully folding the omelette in the pan. Maybe he had a human wife at some point or something. Most likely. That’s not uncommon, especially back in the 21st century. Practically a trend. You tilt your head as you watch him move, brow furrowed. He’s so weird.

What could you have said to them to make them treat you like this? You’re almost afraid to know - that block of time so buried in the recesses of your mind there’s no hope of ever recovering it. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried since that day, but you know we’ll enough that it never works. You don’t have a single guess as to what it could have been.

Maybe you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’re just weirdly tunnel visioned. Vamps do that often enough - hone in on a target of affection. For any reason from looking like a dead loved one or they just have an enticing scent. Except they’re not usually this… nice. Normally they’d just drain the object of their affection and be done with it. Not ask them to sleep over for the night and cook them breakfast in the morning.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a plate is set in front of you. It looks… perfect. At least you assume that’s what a good omelette looks like. Nicely golden. It looks alien. Food from another world - another time. You glance up at John as he watches you expectantly. It won’t hurt to entertain him, you suppose. Even if it does end up being shit. You cut a small bite, tentatively bringing it to you your lips. You brace for something awful.

Except it’s incredible. Perfectly cooked and seasoned. You can’t help but let out a content little hum before practically scarfing it down. You haven’t had food like this in… ever, actually. Neither this fresh or well made.

“So you like it?” John smiles.

You nod happily with a mouth full of food before remembering where you are. Steeling yourself and slowing down, returning to the more reserved persona. “It’s good.”

John huffs out a laugh, turning his back to you to clean up. “I’ll drive you home when you’re finished.”

You pause mid bite. “Oh, no, I can take the train-“

“Do you really want t’walk all the way to the depot in those heels?” John cocks an brow, blue eyes dragging from your face, over your body and down your legs. There’s a slow burning intensity in the movement that sends a shiver down your spine.

You stare at him for a moment, uncertain of what to do. The last thing you need is to owe a vampire for anything. They’ll take your debts to the grave. It happened with your neighbor once - you learned early on to be wary of any offer made by one of them. Never make a deal with one of the devils.

“You won’t be indebted for it.” John chuckles as if he can read your damn mind. Maybe he can.

You chew your lip. It’s at least an hour walk to the metro station from here. You don’t want him to see where you live, though. It will ruin the illusion. Images flash through your mind of the craggily walls of your apartment building. The syringes that line the sidewalk. There’s that massive blood stain on the front steps they still haven’t cleaned up after five years.

But then you meet his eyes. They’re so sincere. So bright. Whatever that tug is in your chest that keeps giving into them pulls again. It’s unraveling you, making you insane. Surely that’s it, you’re finally going insane.

“Okay.” It comes out weaker than you’d like.

John grins a though you gave him the greatest gift in history. It makes your face hot - leaves you shifting awkwardly. You’re not used to that much emotion carved into their marble features. This coven is too expressive. It’s putting you on edge, leaving you with your guard up. Against what, though? What’s the point? Shouldn’t you be happy and play into their more excitable nature?

It’s too unfamiliar. Too otherworldly to see human emotion on their god like features.

A cool finger hooks under your chin, lifting your face to meet John’s gaze. “You think too much.”

You scoff and tear your face away from his hand. Thinking keeps you alive. The girls that don’t think don’t survive past their teens. You have to be smart to stay alive here. To even have a hope of keeping up with creatures who contain centuries of knowledge and experience. Who are so far ahead in the race the best you can do is limp along in the dust.

A valet pulls the car around. John changed into jeans and half zip sweater. You would die before admitting to the small bit of disappointment at him donning a shirt. You expect the black SUV from the night before to pull up. Instead, you’re met with a basic sedan. It’s still nice - obviously new. The seats are a soft, well cared for leather.

“So is this what you do? Invite prostitutes over for omlettes and tea and then drive them home?” You blurt as John starts the car. That itch to dissect their thought processes continues to plague the back of your mind.

“Tea?” He repeats, a brow raised.

“Simon made me tea last night.”

John laughs. “Kyle really did fuck your throat raw, then?”

You whirl on him, eyes wide.

“Don’t act so surprised. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Said you took it beautifully.” John sighs. “Bit jealous I didn’t get to watch the show. A good cigar and whiskey in hand? The perfect night, I think. Might have to recreate it…”

That last bit sounds more for him than for you.

You shouldn’t blush. You’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason to blush anymore. You have no right to be flustered over something as simple as sex. It’s the way he says it, you think. The way desire drips from every syllable as though he’s never said anything more true in his immortal life.

You just hide behind a huff and look out the window. “You’re all very weird, you know that?”

“Are we, now?” John rests his elbow on the door and his head on his hand. He weaves through the chaotic city roads expertly.

“You’re too…” You wrinkle your nose, pausing. The word gets lost on your tongue.

“Human?”

“If you say so.”

John chuckles. “You’re just as weird, you know that?”

“I am not weird!” You snap indignantly.

“If you say so.”

You have to do a double take when he pulls up to your apartment. Is it really that fast by car? What was that, ten minutes? The train is a nearly twenty minute ride with two fifteen minute walks. The walk is nearly three hours - two if you take the back way.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, voice dropping to a low drawl. You shake your head to clear it, pulling your respirator out of your coat.

“Don’t you need a-“ You stop when you meet John’s deadpan expression. “Oh, right.”

“Appreciate the concern, love.” He chuckles. It’s a surprisingly warm sound.

You reach for the door, respirator in hand and at the ready. You pause when John lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. Turning back, your eyes meeting his. There’s that storm again. The one he looked at you with before. Something roiling underneath the surface.

“Fancy?”

“Yes?”

“Before you go.” John leans forward. “C’mere.”

You assume he wants a kiss. It wouldn’t surprise you - a little thank you for the ride. Frankly, you should have thought of it first. Instead, he ducks his head to the side at the last moment. His hand tangles gently but firmly in your hair to pull your head to the side, leaving your neck craned and exposed. You freeze. Fear takes over - your heart rate immediately spiking. Your hands fist his coat, pushing as hard as you can against the unmoving mountain that is his body.

“John-“ Your voice cracks. “Please don’t-“

“Need t’ make sure you’re safe…” He mumbles.

A fang catches your skin. You freeze.

It drags across your neck, down the arch of your artery. You suck in a hear breath, the skin not quite breaking under the touch. Before you can speak or begin pushing again or even try to get out of the car, he bites down. A yelp escapes you as his teeth slowly sink in - only through the top most layer of skin. Not enough to puncture the artery or even for his other teeth to bite into your skin.

Your whole body shakes. “What’re you-“

John shushes you as he pulls away, eyes locked on the cut he made on your neck. You can feel the wet blood beginning to drip down your neck. His hand stays in your hair, holding you in place. The blue of his irises seems somehow brighter, pupils so narrowed they don’t look to be more than pinpricks. After a few beats he seems satisfied, letting your hair go and sitting back in his seat.

“Just a precaution, love.”The vampire looks you over, eyes suddenly painfully soft again. “Take care of yourself.”

Your eyes flick between his. A cold, rushing fear pumps through your veins. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you finally come to your senses, taking the chance to dash out of the car and toward your apartment. Fight or flight pushing away any ability to ask what the fuck that was. By the time you turn around to check behind you, John is far down the street.

You rush to your bathroom mirror, tossing your respirator to the ground as soon as you’re in your front door. It’s not deep. He didn’t even lick up after himself - a thin trail of blood pooling around your clavicle before continuing down. It wasn’t about drinking. You hiss as your fingers lightly test the tender skin.

What the fuck?

He’s a vampire. At the end of the day that’s all he is. No facial expressions or ability to cook will undo that he’s a different creature entirely. Was that what this is about? Reminding you what they are? The power they have? You wouldn’t put it past one of them, the sick fucks. What kind of fool were you to think they’re at all different.

After a shower and finally changing into some pajamas (minus a certain vampire’s tshirt that he will not be getting back) you go to grab your lamp. It doesn’t take long to set up the UV light, just dragging it out of storage and setting up the shade above it so that the rays concentrate downward onto your skin. You slowly sink to the ground. Exhaustion clings to your bones. They feel brittle and heavy simultaneously.

You sigh, curling up under the warm light like a cat. You have to be smart about how long you stay under it - the damn thing runs up the electricity bill like nothing else. Plus, too long under it can cause serious skin damage. As much as you’d rather go without, you’ve seen what happens to those that do.

You half heartedly re-count out the envelope of money, still feeling overwhelmed at the sheer amount of it. At the whole situation at hand. You realize quickly enough that despite having the money to do almost anything you don’t actually… know what to do. Despite the plan being to save up and get out of the slums you never really planned for what to do once you were out of the slums.

The realization that you never truly believed you could do it, even unconsciously, is a little heartbreaking.

Do you keep working at the club? Hope that these clients like you enough to keep up with your new lifestyle? Pray that they enjoy fucking you for long enough to save up? Do you even want to see them after what John just did? Do you look for another job? There isn’t much you can get when the whole of your resume is stamped with WHORE in bright red letters.

With a low groan you slump back on the floor and throw your arm over your eyes. Everything is so fucked. You’re lost in it and it’s all fucked.

Normally, you would avoid information about the people that come in and out of your club. They’re looking for discretion, after all. A place to hide away from the dealings of life. A fantasy. If you were smart, you’d stick with that habit. Especially when it comes to the ones that literally compel you to forget their business.

John just lost the right to any discretion after that stunt in the car.

You open up your shitty laptop that requires five hail mary’s to start. It greets you with the top headlines of the day, all just as enjoyable as you’d expect.

UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN FOUR MORE JANE DOES

NEW DRUG CYTH TAKING THE UNDERGROUND MARKETS BY STORM

CORPSE FOUND WITH BLOOD LEAKING FROM PORES

You close them out, for your own sanity, and type John’s name into the search bar. A few things come up - some company called One-Four-One with the most nothing description about what kind of company they are. They “develop products and services” - aka they’re a shell for shady bullshit. They’re listed as the benefactor for some lower city charities and given responsibility for several mergers and buy-outs in the upper city. All the things you’d expect from a corporation.

It’s too clean, though. You’ve been living in the underbelly long enough to know what a front looks like. Not that you’re surprised. Every vampire corporation is a cover for a million other little inner workings you will never be privy to.

The only pictures of John are a few from press reports. His imposing figure standing behind some ugly podium with a logo hastily plastered across the front. He has a commanding air about him behind all those microphones - like a preacher or a politician. Fitting.

Johnny and Kyle have a far more risqué library. Images with models and other beautiful women. The kinds of things you’d expect from young, playboy vampires stretching over the past century at least, according to the archive dates. The boys aren’t the focus of the images - it’s all paparazzi for the women - but they’re in them nonetheless. How the hell did Johnny manage to squeeze into a pair of leather pants like that?

Simon doesn’t even seem to exist. A total ghost. No matter how deep you go you can’t find a trace of him. You manage to get all the way back to the 1990s in the archive and still come up with jack shit.

You’re left with more questions than answers and a distinct understanding that you shouldn’t ask any of them. You knew that already, though, and you have no plans to let John Price close enough to speak to you anytime soon.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep up until you wake, alarm blaring in your ear that it’s time to get up and go to work. It never ends. You still feel so fucking tired, body heavy and eyes stinging. A haze settles over your mind as you fall into your constant routine. Makeup, hair, dress, respirator on, walk, train, respirator off, walk.

Your locker in the back room fights you, forcing you to practically break it open. Just another thing to leave you feeling angry and useless.

“I heard they got Red.” The girl beside you whispers. She’s mousy, new. A gossiper. She even tried to talk to you, at least before she found out that you apparently steal clients.

The girl she’s speaking to side eyes her. “What do you mean got ‘er?”

“With that new drug - Cyth or whatever.”

“Cyth isn’t real. It’s just people making up shit to cover up what the vamps are doing. As if we don’t already know.”

“But what about-“ You don’t hear the rest of what she says, her voice drowning out as you leave the back room.

Time seems to crawl by at the club without the men. You hate it. Not just the slowness of the day but the fact that they’ve had that effect on you. That these creatures you barley know have invaded your thoughts. Wormed themselves into the nooks and crannies of your psyche. Marked you - however temporarily that may be.

The patrons avoid your eyes. You serve their drinks, and where they would normally make a salacious remark or grab onto you they just offer a huffy thanks and ignore you. The tips are garbage, even the other serving girls notice and begin to basically steal your tables. It has to be the bite.

Why, though? Plenty of serving girls have fresh bite marks and they aren’t getting reactions like that. You can count four on the main floor right now.

At least once the day is over, it’s over. You can go home and hide away. Be angry in peace. Maybe make a plan for what to do. Maybe you can leave the city you and your friends talked about as teens. Except they’re all dead now and you’re pretty sure there isn’t anything outside of the dome anymore. At least not anything you could get to.

The other girls don’t walk with you to the metro anymore. The streets are never truly empty in the main city. There’s no real day or night. It’s only the places humans inhabit that become abandoned during the “night.” As you exit the lower city station, the streets empty out. It’s just you, footsteps echoing off buildings. The smog in the air only makes it darker - even harder to navigate.

Until a second pair of footsteps appears, fast and growing louder by the second. Before you can even begin to run or check behind you a force slams into you, sending you tumbling down onto harsh concrete and into an alley.

You’re cornered. There’s nowhere to go. Before you can grapple for your garlic spray the vampire has your wrists in his hand, pulling you up to dangle in front of him. The backs of your hands and arms scrape against the rough brick of the building he’s pinned you too. It hurts, cutting deep into your skin under the pressure of his strength.

The thing hisses, ripping off the neck guard attached to your respirator. The whole thing goes clattering to the ground. You choke on the poison air, lungs immediately rejecting it.

You tip your eyes to the obstructed sky. Of course it would end this way. It’s the end for you all, isn’t it? Just another body in an alley. Another free apartment for people to fight over. Another headline for people to frown at on the train. You wonder if they would use your name or just leave you as another Jane Doe.

What do the real stars look like, anyway?

He takes a long inhale and freezes in place. You can barely make out wide, frenzied eyes. A hood blocks any of his other features. His breath hastens, chest heaving against yours. What the hell is he waiting for?

Suddenly he reels backward, hissing and spitting. Muttering words you don’t understand. It drops you so suddenly that you collapse to the ground. Unable to gain any footing, still coughing and choking.

“What-“ You’re not even sure why you want to ask it a question. Before you can at all the thing runs away down the alley. Your hand travels up to your neck.

The bite.

A coughing fit sends you doubling over and you blearing grope around the ground for your respirator. At least it didn’t get smashed, you sigh in relief - clipping it back around your face and neck.

Your hands shake and you turn, staring up at that massive skyscraper hanging above the city. It’s taunting you. You feel like you can almost see John staring down at you, toying with you. An anger flares in your body so hot you almost feel as thought you’ve caught fire. He wants to fuck with you? To make you feel weak? To try to lay some sort of claim?

Fine. You can play ball.

A/N: John “you don’t need to know what’s going on, love, just do what I say” Price and Miss “don’t fuck with my independence” Fancy

I don’t love this chapter but I gotta get plot moving and grooving.

[cherrycolored-punk]

missed connection.

e.m x fem!reader, enemies to lovers

author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble but it kinda got away from me. very lightly edited so if you see any mistakes or spelling errors please let me know 🖤 might expand on this

Eddie and Steve move to New York City in 1989, hearts set on starting over.

Harrington has adjusted to the city well, working on Wall Street and dates most days of the week. Nothing serious but he’s not ready for that anyhow.

Munson, on the other hand, has kept to himself. Aside from his weekly gigs at random spots in the city, he doesn’t go out. He has a monotonous routine; work and home. It had been months since he had a date and Steve was beginning to worry.

So he did what any good friend would do, he put out a personal ad in New York Magazine hoping to find just the right weirdo for his best friend.

He didn’t tell Eddie, of course, not at first. Not until the ad was already printed and he could no longer protest.

He slid the paper across the small dining table that divided their too tiny kitchen from their living room.

Eddie wasn’t paying attention though, his mind focused on his first afternoon in the booth at WSOU - the local heavy metal radio station he interned at. His dream of becoming a disc jockey just a little bit closer.

Munson wasn’t particularly enthused because he’d have to split the time with you. The other intern he wasn’t too fond of. You were too perky, too punctual, too perfect and it got on every last nerve he had. Mostly because you made him look bad in comparison.

The metalhead placed his coffee onto the magazine, staining the page brown and leaving a ring from the cup.

“Dude,” Steve grumbled and moved the cup from atop the magazine.

“What?” Eddie asked, finally coming to.

“I was trying to show you something,” Steve rolled his eyes, holding up the magazine in reference.

“The personal ads?” Munson’s voice was heavy with judgement.

“They can be useful,” Steve’s eyebrows pushed together, “we might just find you someone.”

“That would require me to put out an ad which I’d never do.”

Harrington shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He knew that Eddie wouldn’t be keen on the idea but that hadn’t stopped him from submitting it anyways. It would only take a little convincing.

“About that,” he began and the uncomfortable tone in his voice caught the other boy’s attention.

“What did you do?” He questioned, eyes turning to slits as he looked at Steve suspiciously.

Harrington laughed, a sound that came out strangled as he adjusted his tie, and he slid the magazine back over.

Eddie looked at him for a moment longer before looking down, his brown eyes turning to saucers as he read through the short paragraph.

“Motherfucker,” he lifted the magazine as though his eyes were deceiving him.

Steve cringed, running a hand through his wavy hair.

“You didn’t,” Munson slammed the magazine back onto the table.

“I mean, it’s mostly anonymous,” the other boy tried justifying, pointing to the magazine.

“Mostly?”

“They’ll only get your contact information if they’re interested,” Steve shrugged as if this was the perfect plan.

“So any weirdo can respond?”

“I mean, you like them a little weird right?” Steve tried to joke but Eddie didn’t laugh. His chestnut eyes set on Steve in a death glare.

“Okay, okay, maybe I should’ve asked you first,” he contended, holding his palms up in truce.

“Or maybe not have submitted it,” Munson muttered.

“The worst that can happen is that you find your soulmate and what changes if no one responds?” Steve’s eyebrows raised as he tried to argue his point, his hand pointing to the ad.

Eddie didn’t continue arguing, it was already printed and published for everyone to see. It made him feel like an even bigger loser, his dating life so bad that his friend had to result to a personal ad.

“I have to go to work,” he stood and grabbed his backpack before trudging out the door without another word.

Steve watched him leave, eyes trained on the back of the white wood door before he took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered into the cup, shaking his head softly.

————

You were not excited for work. An invisible dark cloud looming over your head as you thought about the day ahead.

All you could think about was spending a few hours alone in a booth with Eddie, trying to play nice and act like the perfect coworkers while you were on air. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

Eddie Munson was mean, cold and never on time. He always scowled at you when you tried to make a joke because how dare you try to make him laugh? You were sure you’d die of shock if he ever did or if he was even capable.

But what made you more mad, more than anything else, was that everyone took him seriously. It could be because he was more versed in the genre but you were sure it was because you were only one of two women who worked at the station. The other was Julie, the receptionist and you could tell they thought you belonged behind a desk or running for their coffee. Which they often made you do because you were an intern, a nice way of saying their bitch.

Eddie never had to run to get coffee or make copies. No, he was the shining intern at WSOU and the others thought you should feel lucky to even be there.

Which is why you hated him.

You adjusted your pleated skirt, trying to make it appear less short than it actually was when Abby, your roommate, barged into your room.

“What if I said I found the perfect guy for you?” She asked excitedly, practically bouncing in place as she stood in front of you.

“I wouldn’t believe you,” you deadpanned, eyes still trained on your reflection. Debating whether or not you should just change into a pair of jeans.

“Har-har,” she frowned at you and shoved a magazine into your chest, “look.”

“I have to go to work,” you began to whine. There was an hour left before you needed to be at the station but you wanted to be there early, before he would even arrive.

“It’ll take thirty seconds,” she pushed it towards you again.

Your eyes rolled, and you pulled the magazine from her grasp. There was a large part of you that wanted to make a remark about the fact that she was showing you a personal ad but you bit your tongue reading through the one she’d circled.

“He sounds desperate,” you looked at her over the tops of your brows.

“He sounds perfect,” she beamed, “for you.”

“No thanks,” you pushed the magazine back towards her and walked towards your closet for the pair of black jeans folded on your top shelf.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested,” you said simply, straining to reach the denim as you stood on your tiptoes.

“You haven’t gone on a single date since you broke up with Alan,” she folded her arms across your chest.

You finally reached the jeans and turned to her, face set in a scowl.

“Because I’m not interested,” you reiterated.

“You need to get back out there, it’s been a year!”

“I will eventually.”

You began to hop into your jeans, the legs of them tight around your calves and accentuating the swell of your ass.

“You said that two months ago,” Abby’s eyebrow arched as she watched you.

“Yeah, and I meant it two months ago too,” you rubbed your hands over your jeans before turning your gaze to her.

Concern was etched into the lines of your face, a worry that made your shoulders sag and a sigh escape between your lips.

You walked and stood in front of her, resting your hands on each of her shoulders.

“I appreciate you for being on the lookout but I will date when I’m ready,” you promised.

The breakup with Alan was monumental, the kind of heartbreak they wrote songs about and whose aftershocks were felt whenever you saw something that reminded you of him.

Not being ready was only half of the issue, the other part was that you were scared.

“Now, I have to get to work,” you patted her shoulders and turned to grab your purse.

“I’m holding you to that,” she walked after you as you left your room, pointing the pages of the magazine in your direction.

“I know you are,” you laughed and waved an absent hand at her as you stepped through the front door.

[h00nerz]

bodybag!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: kang taehyun x gn!reader (slight park sunghoon x gn!reader)

genre: angst, fluff, college au, sort of academic rivals to lovers, tsundere!taehyun, jealous!taehyun

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none afaik, just taehyun being possessive

prompt(s): #33 — “i can’t pretend anymore.”, #34 — “you’re all i can think about”, #35 — “i am so very in love with you”, #36 — “it’s you. it’s always been you.” & #37 — “i cannot stand you, and yet, i cannot fathom being away from you.”

requested: “okok i wanna send in a request bcs this kind of drabble has been living in my brain and idk if anyone wrote smth like it before but anyway!! lines 33 through 37 would lowk be so good for a jealoustsundre!taehyun where he acts like he fr despises you, but he like overhears u talking abt going on a lil date he gets so upset and mad 🤭🤭 i lowk got this idea from that one video i dont remember where but taehyun held a drink and was talking to the camera and said like " got this for you but that doesnt mean i like you or anything" HES SO 🙏🙏” — anon

authors note: omg heyyy my first time writing for tyun i am so excited!! enemies 2 lovers again bc… yeah. anyways enjoy~~

SO FAR, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR OF UNIVERSITY was proving to be the worst year of your life. You were finally starting to take classes more specific to your major, which meant things were starting to become a lot more serious. You didn’t have time to work anymore, and even though you had spent the whole summer leading up to the start of the semester working two jobs to have enough money for tuition, you were still barely managing to scrape by. 

Worst of all, though, was Kang Taehyun. 

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence. You had first met as freshmen at your university, in the same philosophy course, and you had immediately despised him--or rather, he despised you, and your hatred was just reactionary. It didn’t really matter, though, all that mattered was that he was a menace that made your life ten times harder than it needed to be. 

After that semester, you thought you’d never have to see him again. But, of course, fate had different plans for you. It turned out, Taehyun was pursuing the same major as you, which put you in multiple of the same classes by the time your junior year rolled around. By that point, it had been nearly two years since your last encounter, so you’d hoped he’d grown just a little bit since then. But, of course, he hadn’t.

Kang Taehyun had a vendetta against you that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. 

Your last class of the day had finally let out, which meant it was time for you to head to the library. The night before, you had stayed up late pulling an all-nighter, and you really were not looking forward to another afternoon filled with studying, but if you wanted to make this deadline, you had no choice. 

With a sigh, you stood up from your seat, and were overcome with dread when you recognized a head of pink hair approaching you. “Not today, Taehyun. I am not in the mood.” You grumbled as you stuffed your laptop into your backpack, purposefully making sure not to even glance in his direction. 

“Yeah, obviously. You have a late night or something? It looked like you could barely stay awake the whole lecture.” He laughed at you, and now you finally looked over at him with narrowed eyes. “Jesus! You look like you just stepped off the set of The Walking Dead!” He exclaimed. 

Horror overcame you, as you realized just how bad your dark circles probably looked. “Shut up! I don’t look that bad!” You snapped at him, zipping your backpack shut so aggressively the zipper nearly broke off. “Even if I did, though, this is the face of someone who’s about to get an A on our midterm paper. So, ha.” 

Taehyun rolled his eyes, trailing after you as you exited the lecture hall. “Please. When I got Kai to review my paper, he said it, and I quote, ‘brought tears to his eyes’. It was that good. And I don’t look half as shitty as you do.” 

He was right. He didn’t look shitty at all. In fact, that was the most infuriating thing about Kang Taehyun. Even though he had shown time and time again that he had an ugly personality, his physical appearance was the opposite. Everything about Taehyun was perfect. His recently dyed hair, that was so fluffy atop his head it was reminiscent of cotton candy. His dark brown eyes that were simultaneously adorable as well as mysterious and inviting. You knew he worked out, he talked about it all the time, and it really showed. You hated him for being such a repulsive human inside of such an attractive body that must have been crafted by the gods themselves. 

“Probably because staring at his laptop screen and trying to decipher whatever bullshit you were spewing dried out his eyes.” You suggested. As you walked, you felt a yawn bubbling in the back of your throat, and as hard as you tried to suppress it, you were unsuccessful. 

“How late did you stay up last night? Really?” Taehyun asked, raising an eyebrow at you. For a brief second, you thought you saw a flash of something different, a flash of something human in his pretty brown eyes… But, you shook your head, positive that you had been imagining it, and sure enough, it disappeared.

“That’s none of your business.” You were quick to snap, quickening your pace in hopes of getting away from him. Instead, though, you ran straight into someone else, and knocked a couple of textbooks they were carrying onto the ground. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” You immediately started apologizing, bending your knees so you could start to pick up the books. When you glanced forward, you felt your cheeks redden as you realized you had bumped into the Park Sunghoon, and the Park Sunghoon was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Park Sunghoon was, like, the star of your campus. He was the captain of the school’s extremely famous ice hockey team, which made him basically a celebrity on your campus. That combined with the fact that he had a face only someone blessed by Aphrodite herself could wield. So, for that perfect face to be just inches from your own right now has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” Sunghoon greeted you, and as the two of you finally stood, you blinked at him. 

“You—how—my name?” You stuttered out, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “We had a class together last year, remember? You always sat in the row in front of me.” 

You slowly nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I’m surprised you remember that.” 

“How could I forget? You know, I always thought you were really pretty, Y/N.” He smiled at you, revealing his fang-like teeth, and you swore your heart stopped. 

There was loud coughing behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you were surprised to see Taehyun was still standing there. He was watching your interaction with Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, like he was contemplating murdering the ice hockey captain. You wondered if they had some kind of rivalry with one another, or maybe he was just irritated by him for the same reason he was irritated by you: just because.

You jerked your head to the side, trying to gesture for him to get out of there, but he stood in his place and looked as though he had no intentions of leaving. 

Deciding to ignore him, you looked back to Sunghoon, and flashed him a shy smile. “Really? You do?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, really. Um, I’ve gotta go, but if you wanna get coffee sometime…” His voice trailed off, as he pulled a marker out of his backpack. You thought your heart was going to literally beat out of your chest when he uncapped the marker and started writing on your wrist. “There’s my number.” He grinned at you, and you watched in awe as he backed up and walked away. 

Once he was out of earshot, you turned around to face Taehyun, a big smirk befalling your lips. “I guess Park Sunghoon is into The Walking Dead!” You announced triumphantly, like you had just beat him in a game of sorts. 

He didn’t react, though, still wearing the same, ticked off expression from earlier. 

“What? What’s your problem?” You furrowed your eyebrows, and suddenly he snatched up the same wrist Sunghoon had just written on. “Hey! What the hell?”

“I need to talk to you.” He said in a low voice. 

“Then let go of me and let’s talk!” You hissed, trying to break free of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

He shook his head. “Not here. Follow me.” Unfortunately, he didn’t give you much of a choice, as he started dragging you through the great big hallway of bustling students. Eventually, he found an empty classroom and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind the both of you.

Finally, he let go of you, and you immediately stepped away from him, reaching up to rub your sore wrist. “What the hell was that, Taehyun?!” You demanded, practically spitting in his face. 

“I told you. I need to talk to you.” He repeated himself.

You rolled your eyes. “So then talk! I have places to be, I don’t have time for this!”

“Oh, like coffee with Park Sunghoon?” He spat, his voice laced with venom. 

“Maybe! Doesn’t matter, because who I hang out with is none of your business!” You jabbed a finger, and he once again caught hold of your wrist, holding you in place. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. I’m only going to say this once.” He warned you, and although you wanted so badly to fight him and get out of that stupid classroom, you were also desperate to hear what he had to say. He let out what sounded like a sigh of defeat, and he hung his head loose in front of you. He mumbled something unintelligible, and you raised an eyebrow. 

“What did you say?”

“I said I can’t pretend anymore!” He exclaimed, and the sudden outburst caught you off guard as you took a step back. 

“What do you mean…?” You asked quietly, but there was a small part of you who knew the answer to your own question already. 

He let go of your wrist, reaching up to run a hand through his strawberry colored hair. “You know, Y/N… I can’t stand you. And yet…”

“Yet…?”

“I can’t… I can’t fathom being away from you.” His pretty brown eyes finally gazed up to meet your own, and you realized his face had become almost as pink as his hair. Your own cheeks started to heat up at the sudden confession. “Ever since our first class together, you’re all I can think about. Y/N…”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t know why you didn’t back away. Instead you stood still, allowing him to gently take your hands into his own. “As much as it pains me to admit it… I am so very in love with you.” 

You blinked at him. “Y-You are?” You whispered, and he nodded. Kang Taehyun, the pretty boy who had been tormenting you in your classes, who you swore you hated, was in love with you?! It sounded made up. And yet… It made a lot of things start to make sense. 

“Which is why you can’t go out with some idiot like Park Sunghoon.” He pressed.

You frowned. “He’s not an idiot!” You snapped at him, finally gaining the sense to pull your hands from his. “And--And you can’t just spring this confession onto me! You’re probably just trying to distract me because midterms are happening, and--and you want to be the top of the class!”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Y/N, I don’t--”

“Yeah! And you’re just going to--to pretend you love me, and then get me to realize my own feelings, and then right when I start to fall for you, you’ll rip my heart out of my chest, and--” 

Before you could finish your ramblings, Taehyun was cupping your face and connecting his lips to your own. You let out a soft gasp in surprise, frozen for a moment, because Kang freaking Taehyun was kissing you. This was absolutely not what was supposed to happen! But… Something about it felt so right. It was like your body had a mind of its own as you relaxed under his touch, kissing him back with as much passion as he had offered you. 

He pushed you forward until you stumbled back onto one of the desks set up in the classroom, and you gasped again when his hands slid under your thighs to lift you up onto it. Your fingers laced themselves in his pink hair, which was surprisingly soft for having been recently dyed. He was kissing you hungrily, like you were his first meal in days, and he couldn’t get enough of you. 

He was kissing you like he was in love with you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he was forced to pull away from the kiss to catch his breath, and you found yourself chasing after his lips. He smiled down at you, and you felt his fingers brush against your cheek as he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair away. 

“I’m not lying to you, Y/N. This isn’t some cruel trick to make you fail. It’s you. It’s always been  you.” 

You smiled. “You really mean it?” He nodded. “Hmm… I’m not sure I believe you… I think I’m going to give Sunghoon a call…” You lifted your wrist to look at the numbers, unsurprised to see the ink had smeared after Taehyun dragged you into the room.

The color drained from his face. “What? Are you serious? I confess my love, and--and you’re going to call Sunghoon?!” He stared at you in disbelief. 

You tried your best to keep a poker face, but were unable to fight back the laughter for very long. “I’m joking, idiot! Holy shit, you should have seen your face!” You began to cackle loudly, but Taehyun was quick to shut you up with another kiss. 

Maybe the rest of the year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @exohclipse @ttyunz @naveries @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @dewyboi @yeonboy

[fleming-o]

Forgetful // Jessie Fleming

Hii so, this fic will be based of adhd reader (I LITERALLY HAVE ADHD SO I FORGERT ALOT.) just forgetting simple small tasks and Jessie making sure she's reassured and makes sure she's 100% okay.

Mostly fluffy and some acts of low mental health but nothing to bad!

I do have to say though, I know how it feels to have a higher level of adhd, I'm always thinking people think low of me if I forget the smallest things so basically that's what this fic is about. The small act of forgetting

(AHHH SHE LOOKS SO COMFY)

—————————————————————————————————————

An alarm blaring this morning woke me up, stirring awake i hear the small noise of feet moving around me and Jessie’s shared room in our apartment in Portland.

Jessie had recently transferred over from Chelsea, meaning where she goes I go. always. but since my clothing brand is more focused online it is perfect because I can work on it wherever and whenever.

anyway, besides the point, the point is what has woken me up so early in the morning?

as I turn around in the bed looking for the freckled soccer player that’s usually wrapped around in these blankets, I'm met with a cold side of the bed meaning she isn’t here, but I do hear her

“m’looove” I call out for her, which then causes my ears to hear soft walking back into the room

“good morning to you, sorry if I woke you up” She kisses my forehead sitting on the side of the bed, ah saying sorry. such a Canadian thing.

“what time is it” I say still half awake the brown haired girl laughs at my very so sleepy state “7:30 am, you should go back to sleep, sleepy head” I grown

how in the world can someone wake up that early “mm.. was thinking about it too” I say as I bring the covers back up to my body they moved when Jessie sat down

“Okay, have a good rest princess. I'll be leaving soon due to early practice, just remember to take your meds” she reminds me

pushing off the bed she gives me another kiss on my cheek and grabs what is needed for the rest of her day as I’m slowly lulling myself into a relaxed sleep.

——————————————————————————

Getting my self awake properly this time is perfect, I'm waking up around 9:00 and getting myself ready for the day

But there's something weird I feel, that I'm missing to do something but I can't seem to figure it out, exiting the bathroom I take in the state of me and Jessies bedroom

Its messy as hell, “maybe today will be a deep clean day” I think to myself grabbing my phone to see that Jess sent me a message

“good morning princess, I hope you have a good day with whatever plans you may have. Just remember to take your pills and eat some food for me, love you” is what Jessie had texted me

Oh right that's what I forgot my medicine, as I walk over to the kitchen grabbing my pill. Setting it down on the counter grabbing some water, I realize I forgot to make my list of what I needed to clean

So doing so I grab my phone from my sweatpants pocket and open my notes app writing my tasks of the day

What to clean

Bedroom - do the dirty laundry and make bed

Bathrooms - switch toilet paper and clean the counter

Kitchen - do dirty dishes and clean counters

Living room - dust bookshelf/re-range books

*sweep floors

I finish off my list with a happy smile ready to take on my tasks I go walk back into our shared room to change into more of a summer outfit

Completely forgetting about the pill I left out for me to take..

It's nearing 3:00 pm, and I've decided to take a break on my so-called ‘deep clean’ and I'm just catching up on some emails I forgot to do the other day

I did a lot today, finished of the bathroom and put dirty clothes in the washing machine and than I finished around taking all the books out of the shelf so I can dust it all off

But what I did not know, was the lack of food or the lack of actual tasks I did today. I may have thought I did them correctly but I sure enough left out many things but that wasn't on my mind at the moment

What was on my mind was Jessie coming home soon, usually her practices go till 12 but since it was recovery day after a match they go longer to do many run-downs of the match and etc

So getting up from the couch and putting my computer down I look around and see the mess I've made…

I really thought that I finished cleaning the kitchen?

But the unlocking of the front door scares me. What is Jessie going to think when she walks in, she's gonna be mad coming to a dirty home. She probably just wants to rest but coming home to this? No its bad its oh so bad

Just when I start to move from the couch she walks in “Y/n I'm ho-” she freezes. What on earth has happened to her apartment

i’m frozen in spot not even knowing what i’m supposed to do in this situation.

she puts her bag down and slowly walks into the living room, she sees me standing but I can’t look at her so I sit back down

But she walks over to me “Baby what happened to our apartment…” she says but I feel too embarrassed to look at her so I sit down back on the couch with my head held low

But that doesn't stop her from coming and kneeling in front of me “Lovey… hey what's up? Talk to me” she says but I shake my head

“I'm sorry” I quietly say not even knowing if she would hear it but I tried

“I-I wanted to clean before you got home..” I say picking at my nails but she's to fast to shut that down and grab my hands to hold

“Dont be mad please Jessie” I finally look at her, I don't even know why I'm acting so small

“I would never be mad, looks like you had a busy day huh?” she says as her thumbs are grazing over my knuckles

“Look I just woke up and I saw our room was dirty so I decided that I should make a list of what to do I tried hard to clean okay I really did but I guess I got distracted. I started in our room and made my way into the living room than the kitchen I thought I could do it all” I ramble out really hoping she isn't to disappointed

“Hm.. Well did you take your meds?” she asks now switching so she's sat beside me on the couch

“I think so?” I look at her weary but I think I took them..

“Did you eat today?” she says as she looks around the state of the living room

“I just thought I could clean I'm so sorry Jessie baby” I ignore her question knowing I don’t want to talk about it

Jess knows eating is a touchy subject and I just find it hard to do sometimes, I just always get overwhelmed when I see food and I can't help it

“M’love did you get any food today?” she tries again when I don't answer her she knows I haven't eaten, so she gets up from her spot on the couch and makes her way into the kitchen

As Jessie enters the kitchen she does in fact see my pill sitting beside a empty glass of water, she sighs but knowing I easily got distracted

I sit and wait for her to come back, chewing on my nails and looking at the pile of books I've created

“Here, just a banana nothing to big” she returns holding a banana and starting to open it while sitting down again

I though sit silently watching her do what she's doing wondering how she can never get distracted like I do

“Princess.. You left your pill on the kitchen counter, I know you were running on a high wanting to clean the house but you need to make sure you're taking it and eating food” she says as she holds out the banana for me to grab

“Im sorry, I tried my best i was gonna take it but I just got distracted” I slowly take small bites from the food she's given me

“I know you try your hardest, but maybe I will start leaving a note on the fridge whenever I have to leave early so you remember what is needed to have a good day” she says as she's rubs my back not ever once looking away from me aswell

“Now, how about you finish up that banana and we put these books away together. I can make us a bigger snack to have while we watch movies for the rest of the day?” she looks at me

“How does that sound? Princess” I hand her my banana peel as she helps me stand up

“As long as we can cuddle and I pick the movies”

“Whatever you want love”

AHHH I SUCK AT WRITING ANYWAY THAT WAS MY FIRST FIC ☺️

If there are any tips and pointers for anything about my writing please let me know!

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey ; Chapter 8 -

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics - (TS) Slut! (1989TV!) ;  “You’re not sayin’ you’re in love with me, but you’re going to, half awake taking your chance it’s a big mistake, it might blow up in your pretty face I’m not saying do it anyway, but you’re going to”  ♡♡》》𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕐 𝔽𝕀ℂ! ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕆𝕎𝔼𝔻《《♡♡ ♡ Summary: Carm + Winnie have an evening in together. They get wine drunk and have slightly spiritual talk over pizza. Winnie talks Carm through a nightmare. Carm gets some much needed rest, Some angsty sex ensues. ♡ W/C: 8,902 ♡ Posted Date: 02/20/24 ♡ A/N: (Kinda TL Don't have to read) Hayy besties!! I’ve been lookin' over the fic & judging what y'all like by the chapter likes- ok smut and Soft Dom Carm!! I’m leaning towards Soft Dom Carmy being the main trope for this fic & based on the likes y’all love it too!! He needs to build into it though for sure, Like- i'm not great at writing things close to canon- but what is canon is a pivotal part of what makes up Carmen - which is being severely emotionally underdeveloped in regards to relationships - also sexually. BUT don’t get me wrong- that man is a DOM he just needs a partner who will find that and pull it out of him. Like- y’all I am ALL for the fully anger management therapy version of Carmy tthat'swritten in to one shots here like I THIRST for it- I just want to try and flesh out the journey in between because I find it interesting. But it WILL happen in this fic- as you can tell this fic is a slow burn, its gonna be long, and I know its gonna end with Carmen being fully sexually comfortable (at least with Winnie) so expect some dirty dirty filth, carm is just growin rn okay!! I also find it fun to write kinda virgin! Carmy- I believe its canon he’s never had a gf- but I believe he’d had to have blown off steam some way in NY and hooking up on tinder since it was that time would be popular. Anyhow, enjoy this chapter!  ♡ Warnings for BTC: Minimally edited, talks of spiritualism, vomiting, talks of PTSD/Panic Attacks, Sad!Carm, Fluff, (Kinda asshole) But mostly insecure!Carm, Smut! (Talks of it- oral (m) , kissing, etc just slutty shit) 

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The pizza had gotten there pretty quickly but considering the time of night, that was to be expected. Carmen had been sure to order Pepperoni with extra cheese per my request, and by the time the delivery driver had knocked on the door, we had already finished off my entire bottle of wine and I was in the kitchen opening another. He returns to where we had set up in the living room, putting the steaming pizza box on the coffee table. “No way- you need to finish that story, you can't just answer ‘why do you believe in angels’ with ‘I met a guy when I worked at Dunkin’ Donuts and we had breakfast every day until he died’ and that’s just… the end of the story,” he said and I laughed, coming back with 2 very full glasses of Rose and setting them down. 

“That is the whole story, you mean you want the long detailed version?” I set down the 2 paper plates and paper towel roll I was holding under my arm. “Yes.. Please- how was this man an angel?” he snorted, his face flush from the alcohol as I could easily assume mine was. “Okay… his name was Harold, he came in every day, and one day, well” I took a bite of my pizza. “Like I said - my parents, they were never married. My Mom was a twin, but her sister died when they were babies- anyhow” I took another bite, realizing he was listening intently.

“Um.. yeah..” I swallow “So, my dad like- wanted nothing to do with us really, I mean- we met him a few times but… we were just like I dunno, puppies or something? Like, my dad didn’t want us, but my mom was all religious- anyway… wait- what was I saying?” I asked and he started laughing, “Fuckin, Dunkin Donuts man, Harold?” He said and I nodded, catching my breath from laughing at my own drunk rambles. “Yess! Okay, so that's why- we had no money! And with Chris and all his appointments and everything, my mom had even less money, so when I was 14 I got a job to be able to buy stuff, so anyway, I was working a shift.” I took another bite of my pizza before a large sip of my wine.

“And the angel… flew in to buy his coffee?” he teased and I nudged him with my foot. “Shut up! He’s actually the coolest person ever just listen!” I said and he nodded, going in for his second slice of pizza. “I was working a shift, and this man comes in… he looked really sick and he was like ‘ oh can I get something to eat I don’t have any money’ or whatever so I didn’t have any money to spare obviously and so I got my manager thinking this is a huge fuckin’ company - yanno being an idiot teen - and my manager was like ‘oh sorry dude can’t help you’ and so…” I took another sip of my wine before continuing.

“I took my 4.25 that I was gonna use for lunch, I figured whatever, cause this dude needs it- he looked really sick, and that he needed to eat. and I remembered, my mom always said you do things when you can cause when the lord sends his angels to test you they aren't in a suit” I shrug and his eyebrows raised. “You gave him your lunch money?” he said and I shrugged “Mmhmm, anyway- not the point this is the point, Carm, so he leaves, right? Harold comes in, he gets his regular black coffee. Goes and sits down at one of the tables by himself, he drinks it all like he usually does, just watching- waiting almost, and before he goes to leave, he comes up to the counter, and guess what he does?” I asked and he shrugs, waiting for me to continue.

“He hands me, four fucking dollars, and twenty-five cents” I exaggerate each number and his eyes widen, “what the fuck” he muttered. “And I’m like ‘ Harold, why are you given’ me this?’ And he’s like ‘Oh I don’t know honey, I just figured you can use a pick me up today’ “ I took another bite of my pizza and he stopped chewing. “That… is fucking nuts,” he said and chuckled a bit and shook his head.

“And then, every day, we’d sit on my first break and he’d tell me stories about his life, the wars he’d been in, his daughters, his wife before she died, and when he stopped comin’ his daughter came in - she told me that he told her to tell me that he wasn’t doing well and that’s why he hadn’t been by- so I went and visited him in the hospital, got to say goodbye, he was so awesome, and he would do that sort of thing all the time- whenever someone needed something Harold was just… there ya know? It’s like God..or something sent him in at a different time every morning to help someone out even in the smallest ways, He was an angel” I said and Carm nodded, putting his plate down and finishing off his own wine. 

“Well, now that you didn’t make it sufferingly short, I see why you think that. I’d probably believe in angels too if somethin’ like that happened” He said and I dusted my hands over my empty plate before setting it down on the table. “So you’ve never had an experience like that?” He shrugged looking up while he thinks before shaking his head. 

“Nope. Maybe you’re just magical” he pokes my nose causing me to giggle. “I think you” I poke his nose back “are drunk, and we both need to go to bed. Cmon those blankets I put in the dryer went off a few minutes ago. Let's brush our teeth before they get cold” I got up and grabbed our glasses and he took the trash “At least let me help you a little” he said and I smiled. “Such the gentleman.” I teased and he followed me into the kitchen. 

I pointed to show him where the ziplocks were and put the cups in the dishwasher, taking the  box to the entryway and leaving it to bring to the recycling in the morning. “Oh uhhh…I sleep…with the um-“ I started “rain sounds?” He chuckled a bit, stretching his back. “Mmhmm…” I nodded. “So uh…is that ok?” I asked and he nods “no problem for me”

I turn around and head in the bathroom turning on the light “I assume you didn’t bring a toothbrush, or are we that close already?” I teased and he snorts. “No…I did not. Got an extra?” He asks and I open my bathroom closet “you’re in luck, Sadie’s soon to be sister in law is a dental hygienist” I pull out 2 from my thick stack Sadie had put on me when she came over since she had so many laying around her house. 

“Are you a green or blue boy?” I asked and he pouted playfully “no Spider-Man?” He jokes and I giggle. “Blue it is” I put the green one back and popped open the blue one, handing it to him and turning on the sink, wetting my pink electric toothbrush. I put on my anti-cavity toothpaste and handed it over to him, he did the same putting some on his brush. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll time you” I said and he raised his eyebrow “what?” He asked and I turned on my toothbrush, giving him a smug smile before popping the brush in my mouth. Every 30 seconds I mumbled ‘next quadrant!’ With a small smile until the 2 minutes was up, spitting my toothpaste out and brushing my tongue as he did the same before rinsing my mouth and shutting off the water. 

By the time we got in bed and shut the light off, Persephone had well found her spot between my legs, purring softly as she groomed herself for the night and I opened my phone, going to tik tok. Carm spoons me from behind, nuzzling his face in my shoulder with his arm wrapped around my waist. “What’re we watchin’ babe?” He mumbled and I smile. 

“My nightly dose of giggles” I said and scrolled down my for you page, stopping on a video from ‘Secret Brittany’ and my eyes locking on the screen. 

Okay guys, lock in alright? This is the plan - the military planning for the next 2-4 months of my life 

Carm lets out a snort in to my neck, his hand traveling up and down my ribs as he watches with me. 

I’m not going to move to Ireland- yet. I’m going to purchase bumble premium in Ireland, and I’m going to march with Irish men who want me - caveat, they want me, then, I’m going to move, and live my faerie dream 

I giggled, “me” I said quietly to myself and he pinches my waist gently causing me to giggle more “you?! You’re not goin’ anywhere I dunno’ what you’re talkin’ about” he held me tighter, nuzzling his nose deeper in to the crook of my neck. “Is someone whiny and jealous? I’m sure with my red hair and thick hips I’d have guys lining up for me” I teased and laced my fingers with his. 

He let out a bratty huff “I know that’s why you aren’t allowed to go” he muttered into my skin, causing me to smirk as I scrolled on to the next nonsense video. I gasped as I realized I had forgotten about getting to the next part of my absurd series about some woman divorcing her lying husband and looked up her account and Carm leans in a little closer. 

“Wait…” he muttered softly as I scroll through, trying to find the last video I left on. “Who the fuck did I marry…52 parts Winnie?!” He snorts and I giggle “Carmen- shut up, shhh your brain. Get engrossed.” I said and went all the way back to the first part and I glance down at him. 

“You know I’ve watched 23 parts but I’ll rewatch- cause you have to see this, and know-“ I lean in so our foreheads were touching and giggle a bit. “I’m scared” he said playfully causing me to laugh more. “Know Carmen -whatever your middle name is- Berzatto, I will always sniff out a lie- I will do my diligence- hear me?” I huff a laugh and he kisses my lips tenderly. 

“I would never dream of lying to you” he said honestly before continuing. “I may not tell you everything at once, but I’ll never misguide you, yeah?” He said softly and gently cups the back of my head with his warm hand. I nodded softly against him. “Yeah…” I whisper and kiss his forehead. “My middle names Anthony” he said with a small smile. “Mines - basic. Ok, Now listen to this bullshit” I giggle a bit and turn back around, hitting play. 

It was about 3 parts (30 minutes) of Carmen softly gasping, playing with the hem of my shirt in anticipation, and humming in confusion before I heard the first snore come from his lips. I hit pause on the video, putting on my rain asmr sounds on Spotify and gently plugged my phone in, setting my alarms before drifting off into a peaceful, relaxed sleep. 

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I woke up to the sounds of violent retching in my bathroom, I rubbed my eyes, confused for a moment before remembering that Carmen had slept over. I padded out to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing my brita jug, before opening my cabinet and grabbing one of the many different glasses that fit a bamboo lid and glass straw, this certain one adorned with cherries. I gently pushed the cup under the ice dispenser, letting a few cubes drop in before filling the cup with chilled water. 

I pushed the lid and straw on, popping the Brita back in the fridge before padding back to the bathroom, where I heard dry heaving from outside the slightly cracked door. “Carmy?” I mutter softly, pushing the door further open to see him crouched over the toilet, elbows supporting him as he gagged over the bowl. 

“S-sorry.” He muttered, coughing a bit before sitting up and trying to catch his breath. “No- no. Carmen, don’t apologize” I knelt down next to him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m not feeling sick.. so was it a nightmare?” I asked softly, extending the water to him. He sat back on the floor, extending his legs in front of him and sighing deeply. 

“I really didn’t mean t’wake you, Winnie. It’s fine…really they happen like every night” he mumbled, taking the glass from my hands. “I have them too! It’s ok, it's ok. S’just a bad dream” I said softly and gently brushed his curls off his forehead that were damp with sweat. He takes a big few gulps of water from the straw, sighing relieved before leaning back and resting on the cold tub. 

“Did you…did you wanna talk about it?” I sat next to him, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my cheek on my knee, glancing at him through the moonlight coming through the window. It was hard to see him without my glasses or contacts, but his striking blue eyes were still impossible to miss. “It’s…” he looked at his hands, holding the glass. “Stupid” he said finally. “So..so stupid. I used to..” he sighs, his head dropping back and eyes squeezing back in thought. 

“Throw up?” He said like a question, shaking his head quickly. “Like” he looked at me “before I’d…see my boss” in the dim light I could still see his cheeks reddening. I bit my lip gently, leaning over and hugging him silently, my head resting on his chest. “I’m sorry” I said softly and he sighed, setting his water glass down and curling his arm around my frame, rubbing gently. “No.. no that’s not- don’t feel bad” he said softly, his thumb rubbing soothing strokes in to the middle of my back. 

I gently shook my head against his chest. “Carmen…” I said softly. “This… this monster…” I said softly and looked up at him, cupping his cheek honestly. “He makes you sick Carmen…what…what he did to you- whatever he did…he creates a panic response in you, baby.” I rub my thumb along the stubble of his jaw that was already peaking out before first light. 

He swallows thickly, drinking in every word I was saying. “He…he…” I look at the floor, trying to find my words. “He instilled that voice in you” I said, my lip quivering slightly and he put his thumb to my lips gently to stop the motion. “What? What voice, honey?” He asked softly. 

I giggled into his finger, still slightly wine-drunk. “Your inner-saboteur. Just like Ru-Paul says” I gently nibble his finger, causing him to really laugh. “My inner-saboteur” he repeated with a smile. “Yes” I said gently and kissed his forehead. “Let him go, Carm, fuck that guy! Fuck your inner-saboteur. I’m still a tad bit drunk, but c’mon- brush your nasty throw-up teeth” I said teasingly and giggle, resting my forehead on his and gazing into his icy blue eyes. 

“And come back to bed, I’ll introduce you to Drag Race tomorrow”  I said softly, pecking his lips tenderly. “Okay?” I gaze into his eyes, looking for agreement. “Okay…” he said softly, a smirk adorning his lips. 

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I wake up to the feeling of Persephone jetting off my right thigh like an Olympic-launching pad at the sound of my alarm going off, soothing chirping birds filling the bedroom from my hatch alarm clock Sadie’s Parents had gotten me as a housewarming gift. I groan softly at the reverberating pain in my thigh muscle from her sudden attack, reaching down and soothing the ache with a slow rub from my hand. 

Carmen was draped around me, his arm tucked protectively around my waist and his prominent nose nuzzled in my neck, the feeling of short, hot breaths hitting my shoulder at an even pace. I gently leaned over, tapping the top of the clock that was slowly getting brighter, so it stopped its cry of awakening, 

I rubbed my face tiredly before I gently pried Carmys sleeping fingers off of my waist, slowly getting up off of the mattress, so as to not wake him. My t-shirt brushed just below my lower cheeks, goosebumps crawling up my legs from the chilly apartment air. I nuzzled my feet into my pink bear-claw slippers, and quietly shuffled out to the kitchen, silently pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

 I sighed tiredly, stretching my back and arms just at the end of the hall, moaning softly at the blood rushing to my muscles at the action. “Mmhmm” I mumbled at Sephy hungry cries, scratching my scalp in a sleepy haze. 

“Comin’ babygirl” I muttered softly, shuffling out to the kitchen and opening the cabinet, I pulled out a tin full of wet food and cracked it open with my forefinger, taking out a spoon from the drawer. She meowed impatiently, causing my tired eyes to roll up involuntarily.

“Persephone” I muttered, tired but stern. “Jesus Christ should I call ASPCA?” I joked, taking a spoon out of the draw and nudging it closed with my hip quickly before spooning half the can in the bowl and chopping it up half-hazardly, before setting it on the floor with a clink. She dove in, eating like she’d been starved. 

I put a pod in my Nespresso machine, and rested my chin in my hand as my latte brewed, scrolling through my ‘For You’ page, sending a few videos to Sadie that made me stifle a laugh so as to not wake Carm. I opened my fridge, pouring some half and half in to my cup that I’d already filled with ice before pouring my espresso over the top and mixing it up before sealing the lid. 

I shuffled over to the couch, sitting down and continuing to scroll through videos as I sipped my latte. By the time I’d finished it, Persephone was sitting on the cat tree grooming herself in the morning light and the clock read 8:32. I got up, going over to my record player and shuffled through my selection of records, settling on Ctrl by SZA that Syd had gotten me. I bit my lip gently, thinking of her. 

I really hope she wasn’t mad at me…for too long. Thinking back on the conversations she had with us about her ‘boss’ who I now knew was Carm, he could be a serious asshole and he…emotionally led her on in a way? And they never explicitly mentioned their feelings but it sounds like there definitely was feelings..My thoughts are broken by the static of the record as it switches to the next song and Love Galore starts playing. 

I did my usual routine of walking around, pulling open my blinds to let the light in before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. I washed Sephys bowl and set it on the small drying rack before setting a pan on the stove to heat. I opened the fridge, resting my hands on my hips, and realizing I have no idea what Carmen eats- if he eats breakfast. It’s a Saturday though…I settle on the safe options of eggs and toast. 

I popped 4 pieces of bread into the toaster, humming along to Doves in The Wind while I cracked 4 eggs into a glass measuring cup and whisking them with a fork. I added a little bit of garlic salt and pepper, mixing it again before dropping some butter in the pan and letting it melt. I got out 2 of my pink heart shaped plates and set them down in preparation, before pouring the eggs in the pan. It was quick to scramble so I put the toaster down, and I was shuffling over to the table just as the bedroom door opened. 

Carm genuinely looked refreshed. The bags under his eyes were mostly gone, and his eyes didn’t look red and exhausted. I look over at the clock, 9:22. “Good Morning, Chef. I hope scrambled eggs and butter toast is acceptable? With jelly of course” I went over, clicking off my record player that had stopped spinning a few minutes prior.  “You made breakfast?” He asked, looking over to the table. 

It took all of my strength to keep a casual face at his deep, husky morning voice. “Mmhmm!” I hum and come back to the table and he followed. “Coffee?” I ask and he nods “thank you- wow. I can’t remember the last time I.. actually ate in the morning. What time?-“ he looks over to the stove and his eyebrows raise. “Shit.” He snorts. “I guess your bed was comfortable” he sits. 

I smirk proudly “well I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your stay so far at Winnie’s bed and breakfast” I said and went to the kitchen, opening my cabinet and smiling wide at the perfect mug for him to use. I set it down on the counter, “cream?” I asked opening the fridge. “Yes, What are you cheesin’ about?” He teased and I giggle “somethin’ - just wait” I took out the cream and set it on the counter and popped in an americano pod. 

“Oh! Forks! Sorry. Forgot my meds this morning. Let me go do that” he chuckles as I quickly shuffled off. I go in to the bathroom and took my medications with a handful of sink water before coming back and seeing his coffee was done. “Perfect!” I took it out, putting cream in. “Sugar?” I asked and he shook his head “no” he said and I stirred the coffee, putting the spoon in the sink. 

I carefully come over, covering the art on the mug until I set it down in front of him with a giggle. “A Bear mug for Bear and it has a cute, true saying, ‘A hug a day keeps the lonelies away’ “ I giggled. “See that one’s me,” I point to the smaller one, “and that’s you,” I pointed to the bigger one “cause’ you give teddy-bear hugs” I smiled. He looks up at me, his blue eyes sparkling in the morning light, an adorable smirk on his face. 

“You…” he starts and shakes his head, pulling me into his lap and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck loosely to steady myself. He kisses all over my face, causing giggles to involuntarily fall from my lips and my eyes to squeeze shut at the quick short pecks that tickled like butterflies, my heart fluttering the same way in my chest. “Are so fucking cute” he hugs me close and I giggled, wrapping my arms around him. 

“Thank you” he kissed my neck sweetly before releasing me and I got up. “Wow, an ambush, I do take payment in kisses but warn me so I can count!” I joked, sitting down in my seat and he rolled his eyes playfully, a pink blush adorning his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Forks!” I said and he laughed, shaking his head again. 

“Does that happen all the time?” He asked and I nod, heading over to the drawer and grabbing 2 forks. “Yup. It’s worse if I don’t have my meds” I put his fork in front of him. “Hope it’s ok” I said and sit down “no- this is…this is great Winnie, thank you really” he said taking a bite and nodding. “5 stars Chef” he said and I laughed before taking a bite of mine. 

“Mmhmm totally I’m coming for your spot! Better get worried these eggs’ll put you out of business” I joked and he snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. “Mm- I think Starbucks should be a little scared” he teased and I giggle a bit, nibbling on my toast. “That’s all Nespresso that thing is amazing” 

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When we finished breakfast, Carm takes our plates and his mug over to the sink and starts washing them, along with the pan I’d used. “Wow…he cooks and cleans? You sure you aren’t taken already?” I joked, wiping down the table with a Lysol wipe. He chuckled “nope, haven’t gotten any serious offers” he joked back with a smile. 

“Did you wanna see my little library craft room thing?” I asked, throwing the wipe away in the garbage. He puts the now clean dishes on the drying rack. “Course, what do you…craft?” He asked, following me to the second bedroom and I opened the door. “Oh..lots of things. I sew,crochet,read, make jewelry, I paint sometimes” I shrugged and he looked around at all the half finished projects. 

“This is cute” he hummed, picking up a half finished star and moon granny square blanket off the back of my pink desk chair. “Oh! That’s for Syd’s birthday!! She’s such an astrology girl, it's one of those things we can talk about forever.” I smiled and he nods a bit. “Why haven’t you ever come around more? The uh- the restaurant” He asked as he looked over the intricate stitches and I shrugged, picking up stray crochet needles scattered on my desk and putting them in the little drawer where they belonged. 

“Oh.. well Sadie and I - it’s kinda fancy for one thing, and umm..we don’t like people and it’s been busy for months “ I laugh a bit “fancy huh?” He teased, setting the blanket back down and walking over to the wall of pictures I had next to my overflowing bookshelf. “It has been pretty busy” he said as he gazed over the different memories of girls trips Sadie and I had taken as well as pictures of nights out with Syd. 

“Also as you can probably tell- Sadie and I do not belong in a cool fancy place like that” I giggled and he shook his head rolling his eyes playfully with a smile. “I don’t either but it’s what brings the business right?” He looked over the books. “Damn, you read a lot” he said and I giggled. “Mmhmm! Work at a bookstore” I said and he pulled one of my most well loved books out, “this one of your slutty books?” He teased and I roll my eyes. 

“Ha.ha. No- this is an amazing book, you’re saying you’ve never read this book?” I took it from his hands. “My brother gave it to me” I said and flipped to the second blank page where ‘From Chris To Twinnie’ was scribbled in his chicken scratch handwriting. His eyebrows raised. “Oh…no- no. Never heard of it.” He said and my jaw dropped. “Never heard of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane” I scoff a big smile coming to my face. 

“Okay, so, now I see” I nod, holding the book to my chest with a teasing smirk on my face. “See what?” He asked “I see why you…I dunno” I shrug. “Don’t like to have fun “ I poke his chest and he scoffs. “I have fun I am totally fun!! Are you saying I’m boring?” He asks, slightly offended and I laugh. “No! I’m saying that… the whole point of this book is that life, our journey to self discovery is useless if you have no intention of loving or being loved.” He raised his eyebrows before starting to laugh. 

“A rabbit said that?” He questioned and I shook my head “no he learned it. C’mon let me do skincare on you and read it you’ll love it” I said and he blushed a bit. “Why do I have bad skin?” He joked with a teasing smile. “No you have nice skin but let me take care of it” I said and led him to the bathroom by his hand, getting out my face wash “wash your face with this” I said and turned the water on warm, and grabbed a clean face towel from the cabinet with embroidered strawberries on the hem. “dry your face with this” I instructed. 

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I gently put on the sparkly under eye patches under Carm’s eyes and he scrunched his nose adorably. “The fuckin’ hell why do you do this” he muttered “feels like a slug” he said causing me to giggle “oh my god such a boy. This will make your pretty blue eyes much more noticeable without all the darkness from never sleeping” I gently smoothed them out, booping his nose with the tip of my finger when I was done. 

“Mm whatever you say this is Winnie’s Salon after all” he says and I tut “no! This is Winnie’s beauty parlor. I'm not cutting your hair today” I said and his eyes fluttered open, looking up at me with a small smile. “They look pretty on you” he said, causing me to blush. “You’re a big flirt” I gently played with his hair and his eyes fluttered back shut, humming softly in satisfaction. “Did you want me to read to you?” I asked and his smile grew. 

“Please. It’s been a long time actually, I’m excited to hear about this rabbit” he said and I grab the book from next to us, opening to the first page and starting. 

“Chapter One” 

By the end of the first page, he was glancing up at me, watching me speak each word and smiling slightly when I did slightly different voices for each character. At the end of the first chapter, I close the book and he pouts a bit. “What? No keep going, that was getting cute…she loves that bunny” he said and I giggle. “Yes she does, if you want to hear the next chapter you have to come see me again. Plus, I’m getting hungry” 

I peeled his eye patches off, gently rubbing in the remnants with my ring fingers and he smiled softly. “Mm…you cook breakfast, pamper me, and read to me? I think this is my new hang-out spot for Saturdays” he jokes and I giggle a bit. “Good, so next Saturday you’ll get to see what happens in the next chapter.” I said and he sat up, sitting against the headboard next to me. 

“Sounds like a steal for me” he smiled adorably, his skin still glowing from the serum I’d applied. I looked at his lips, then back at his eyes before straddling his hips and kissing him deeply. He hesitantly moves his hands to my hips and rubs with his thumbs gently. I kiss down his jaw over his stubble to his neck, nipping gently and he groans softly “Winnie” he said, gripping my hip a bit tighter. I gently tug on his ear with my teeth. “I think it’s hot you’re such a talented chef and like when I cook for you” I said softly in his ear, gently tangling his curls in my fingers as I continue to kiss and nip his neck. 

I grind my hips on his and he moaned softly “Winnie.” He said softly, moving his hand to my back “I-i…” he swallowed thickly and I stopped, sitting up and looking at him. “What? Did I..did I do something wrong?” I asked. He shook his head, refusing to meet my eyes. “I-I don’t…we shouldn’t” he rubs over his chin, thinking. 

“Do you…regret last night?” I asked, getting off his lap and sitting crisscross beside him on the bed. He shook his head again “no- god no that was fuckin’ amazing Winnie I-“ he blushed, looking down at his lap. “I’ve uh never…” he cleared his throat, his eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. “I- I’m surprised I lasted that long with you- a-and…I’ve never done that before..what we did in the shower and I’m still- I’m thinkin’ about it” he swallowed thickly, finally looking at me and I nodded slowly. 

“Okay…I think we should talk more about our sexual experiences” I said and bit my lip. His face goes pale, his mouth opening and closing a few times like he was trying to find the words. “Uh- I” he stuttered. “I’ll go first…what uh- what do you wanna know?” I asked casually and play with the hem of my shirt. “Uh- well..that’s- I don’t… I don’t know a lot” he said quietly, clearly embarrassed by the way his eyes darted away from mine again. 

“Okay so…how about this then. I’ve slept with 24 people, including you. But most of the bulk of those were back home, I’ve slept with you and one other person since I’ve been here, how many have you been with?” I asked and his eyes widen. “Twenty four?” He repeats, his mouth dropping slightly. I scoff “what so guys can sleep with 100 women by the time their 24 but I can’t sleep with 2 people a year over the course of nearly 10 years?!” I asked my tone laced with annoyance. 

He shook his head quickly “no-n-no Winnie no…I’ve….ive slept with less then 8 people…I’ve had sex like…maybe…” he took a deep breath, looking away and swallowing thickly “I don’t- I don’t like this game anymore or- or questions. Or whatever” he said his cheeks going red. I bite back a laugh at the irony of him being so insecure by holding my tongue between my teeth and I gently touch his bicep. “Look at me” I said softly and he shook his head inching away from my touch a bit. 

“Carmen. When I said no one has made me cum like that- I mean it. I was fully seeing stars bro I was shaking Carm.” I laughed and he looked over, eyebrows raising. “You really meant that?” He asked and I roll my eyes playfully. “I wasn’t even gonna fuck you a second ago I was gonna suck your dick because I’m sore. Literally yes you’re amazing Carmen you’re so fucking hot.” I said and he bit his lip, looking at his lap. 

“But I can’t…like- when…when we were in the shower” he muttered “that was-“ he swallowed thickly “I’ve never…I’ve never had sex in the shower before and-“ he sighs deeply. “I don’t want to get attached.” He looks at me finally, and I was silent for a moment, my brain filing through all the possible things he could mean. I settled on the safest response that would have the least possible chance of rejection. “Like- you don’t want tooo…” I questioned and he raised his eyebrows waiting for me to continue. 

“To get attatched to fucking me on your days off?” I question and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Winnie” he muttered, slightly annoyed. “That’s not what I mean Y’know that” he said and I bit my lip. “Tell me what you mean then, Carmen” I said and he looked up at me. He stared at me for what felt like forever, studying me, my features, I tried my best to decipher what was going on behind his eyes but only a week of knowing each other I was rolling blanks. 

“I don’t want to get attached to this. Winnie, to you. I don’t want to do this, we can’t do this.” He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and the small change in body language felt like an ocean of distance was suddenly created between us emotionally. My mouth suddenly felt dry, and my throat was growing an enormous lump. “Why” I finally choke out and he looks back at me. “Because I told you, Winnie, I’m not boyfriend material. What this” he motions between the 2 of us “Is, can’t keep going like this. Fuckin’ cuddling and shit..” 

I felt like I wanted to burst out into tears, not more than 20 minutes ago he was dreamily looking up at me while I read to him and now he was telling me that he won’t allow himself to be around me, and relax. “Oh” I scoff, my eyes narrowing and crossing my arms over my own chest. 

“You are such a little baby,” I said and his eyebrows furrow, “what?” He asked. “A little fucking. Baby.” I repeat myself and he blinks a few times, “What the fuck do you mean?” He asked and I got up. “You are an angry baby, because you realize that I have more experience in the bedroom!” I laugh dryly. “Carmen. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You want this. Look at me, and tell me the last fucking time you relaxed on your day off? Hm?” I raise my eyebrows, shrugging and waiting for an answer. 

“You don’t fucking know me, Winnie” he scoffs. “I don’t- I don’t give a fuck that you have more experience than I do. Clearly, it wasn’t with anyone good! Per your fuckin statement 5 minutes ago.” I shook my head. “You’re right! You’re right Carmen. I was begging for your cock- and you wanna know something? You loved it. You were pussy drunk, Carmen, you- you are just so fucking obsessed with depriving yourself of joy, of pleasure that instead of allowing yourself to fuck me you’d rather be in your apartment all alone and cum in your hand? Fine. Have fun” I shrugged, motioning to the bedroom door. 

He sat there, jaw dropped. “You-“ he closed his eyes in shock, shaking his head as he digested what I just said to him. “You are so-“ he sighed, looking at me and his eyes flicker to my chest. I smirk, “fuck. Im gonna fucking hate myself this week. C’mere” he said and I knelt on the bed, straddling him once more and kissing him deeply. I pushed him back on the bed roughly. “Tell me you don’t want me” I said and peel off my shirt, exposing my breasts and already peaked nipples shining with their little black studs, already hardened due the adrenaline coursing through me. 

“Fuck off Winnie you know I fucking want you” he grabs my breast, playing with my nipple gently and I bit my lip. “I haven’t even showed you half of what I can do- and you’re gonna throw the towel so soon?” I rest my palms on his shoulders for leverage as I ground into his hips, the friction causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to fall back onto the pillow in a low whimper. 

“N-no- no you’re right. You’re right Winnie fuck” he moaned, gently tugging at my jewelry causing me to gasp in pleasure. I kiss him hard, circling my hips into his at a torturously slow pace causing him to whimper and groan into my mouth which made a small smile come to my lips. I pulled away slightly, our lips barely an inch away. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” My eyes flutter to his, my hips completely still. His breath quivers “yes” he said barely above a whisper. “Tell me, say it, Carmy. What do you want?” I ask and kiss his neck tenderly. “I-I want you t-to” he swallows thickly when I nip at the tender spot below his ear. “I want you to suck my cock” he said, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks going red. I smirk, happy with the admission, but still unsatisfied with the way he was denying himself. 

“Okay baby, since you asked so nice, like such a good boy” I said, his lip tugging between his teeth and

I kissed down his chest, his abs tightening when I made my way over them, my tongue dragging slowly down the divot in the middle. He watches me with hooded eyes, hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were turning white, his chest raising up and down deeply at a quick rate as he watches me worship him. 

I straddle his calves, gently rubbing his fully hardened length through his sweatpants and he whines softly “please-please Winnie” he breathed impatiently. I smirked, my hands rubbing long teasing strokes up and down his thighs. “Do you really want me to suck your cock, Carmen?” I asked and he swallows thickly. “Winnie” he wined, looking away and his cheeks heating. 

I stopped touching him and my hands raised to my breasts, gently palming and squeezing them before playing with my hard nipples and my head dropping back as I moaned. “You don’t want me, baby?” I asked and his hand traveled to his pants and I stopped him, grabbing his wrist. “Do you want me Carmen?” I asked, taking his hand and putting his forefinger and ring finger in my mouth, my tongue swirling around them and hollowing my cheeks at the base of his hand. 

He bit his lip harshly as I did so. “So so fucking bad.” He said softly, I pulled off his fingers with a ‘pop’ and tugged him out of his boxers, leaning down and spitting the puddle of saliva I had collected in my mouth while sucking on his fingers and pump his length with the wetness, twisting and getting it all wet. “Holy fucking shit” he mumbled, a moan falling from his lips and his head falling back momentarily but he was quick to put his eyes back on me. 

“Does that feel good baby?” I ask sweetly, my thumb brushing over his tip. He nods “shit- yes s-so good baby” his abs clenched in pleasure as I slowly dragged my thumb over his slit teasingly. “Mmm the noises you make are so sexy baby I love it” my other hand dances around his stomach, my nails brushing the toned skin causing him to shiver slightly. 

“Oh you adorable thing” I said and leaned down, kissing his tip gently and his head drops back, a breathy moan falling from his lips, his knee jerking slightly under me. I stuck out my tongue, slowly licking his tip from the back of my throat all the way to the tip of my tongue, flicking it teasingly causing him to whimper beautifully. “You have such a nice cock baby” I praised, pumping him slowly, twisting my hand how I knew he liked based on the way his stomach would tense when I did it repeatedly. 

I look up at him, his cheeks, bright red, curls stuck to his forehead in sweat, “do you like it when I tug harder” I did so and he whines “or softer?” I went back to my original firmness and he breathed out, I could tell no one had really ever given him this kind of attention during a blow job before- so I was relishing in the fact that no matter if he did claim to hate himself this week, every time he came after a long day it would be at the thought of me. So I’m pulling out every stop, every theatric - I’m going to make this magical. 

I was already fucking him dumb and I had barely used my mouth yet. We had a lot of work to do, to mold him into the kind of partner I knew he yearned to be. And whether we continued to pretend to be ‘friends with benefits’ while he learned, or he decided he wanted more- I didn’t care. Because I knew this man wanted to dominate, and I was dedicated to getting it out of him. 

When I got no verbal response my hand stopped moving and I gently tap the head of his cock against my tongue getting his attention. “Words.” I said softly, smiling sweetly as I waited for a response. “Hard. H-hard. Please.” He said and I continued as he requested and he grunts “fuck yes…mmm twist baby like-“ he moans louder when I oblige. “Yes. Yes.” he breathed and I smirked, moving my hand faster. 

“Good boy, I love it when you tell me what feels good” I said and my hand that was on his stomach travels to his v-line, my forefinger soothingly stroking as I took his tip in my mouth, he lets out the hottest noise between a moan and a cry that I’d heard a man make, before I heard the sounds of the fabric beginning to give beneath his death grip. I pulled my lips off and stopped my hand from jacking him off, taking my hand off his stomach and pulling my hair out of the bun it was in. 

His eyes shot open as soon as I stopped, a small gasp tumbling from his lips as my tight curly bangs fell over my forehead, when they were blown out they were the 80s look I loved to achieve with my hair- but my bangs were extra curly naturally since they weren’t weighed down like the rest of my hair and I’d gotten it wet last night. I pushed it off my shoulders, taking his hand and putting it on my head. “Go as hard as you want. I’ll squeeze you twice if it’s too much.” I said and started again before he could reply. 

He whined hotly as I took him down inch by inch until he was lightly hitting the back of my throat, he was mostly just stroking the back of my head but when he felt me swallow around his tip it was like something in him flicked on. He grips the back of my hair “f-fuck- god do that again- fuck do it again Winnie” he said, pushing my head down gently. I closed my eyes, saying a silent and quick prayer to every god ever that I’d fully digested my breakfast, and that my gag reflex had gotten much better since trying to train it with my toothbrush before bed the past few years. 

I took a deep breath, before fully relaxing my throat and pushing his tip past my tastebuds and I gently stroke his thighs, more to soothe myself that I could do it, before pushing deeper. He cries out, moaning what sounded more like a pleasured growl, his fingers tugging my hair lightly. I knew I had to stop pushing before I either hurt myself or actually gag and embarrass myself. I swallowed around him slowly, my throat fluttering around him for a few moments. 

I feel his muscles all tense beneath me, his abs tightened, stomach clenched, fingers digging into my scalp, eyes screwed shut, veins protruding in his neck. He would be cumming in the next few seconds so - I stopped. I pull off, sitting up, a string of saliva pulling from his cock to my lips as I did so. My lips swollen, jaw sore, chin and neck slick with saliva. I smirked as he gasps, his orgasm flowing away like dandelion seeds in the breeze and he looked at me, his pupils blown with lust. 

“W-why. Why did you stop?” He asked, he almost sounded angry. I shrug, “do you deserve to cum, Carm? You you deserve to feel good?” My fingers dance around his stomach and v line causing goosebumps to appear on his skin and his cock twitches, aching to be touched. “Please Winnie, fucking- let me finish” he grumbled, looking at the ceiling. 

“Let you” I scoff. “Do you even think you deserve that. Carmen? Hm? Put enough hours in this week? Plan enough new catering orders?” I taunt, goading him into showing me any thread of dominance in him I could tug on. He looks at me, his eyes darkening “suck my fucking cock. Winnie.” he ordered and I smirk. “Ooo, making demands now, I only serve those who deserve it” I drag my forefinger from his balls to his tip, smiling at the reaction of his stomach clenching and cock jumping in a twitch. 

“I deserve it” he grumbled, not meeting my eyes. “Hm?” I hum, ghosting my hand around his cock but not gripping it. “I said I fucking deserve it” he looks into my eyes as he said it. I lean down taking him back in my mouth and he sighs in relief, I pump the bottom half of his length as I take him back into my throat. It was barely 2 minutes of him spilling profanity, muttering my name, whines and moans, and only swallowing around him 2 times before I felt him fully tense up again, and an enormous load shot down the back of my throat, so much that I had to swallow 2 times after pulling off of him to get it all down.  

“Holy shit” I laugh taking a deep breath and he was laid there, trying to catch his breath “sorry” he said between breaths, eyes blissfully shut and cheeks flushed as well as his chest from his release. “No its…it’s fine just. Holy shit. You just dumped a generation down my throat” I joked and he laughs lightly.  

I quickly fix his boxers and laid next to him after pulling my shirt back on. “How the fuck did you do that?” He asked and I shrug a bit, pushing my hair behind my shoulders. “Dunno. Just tried it. Glad you like it though. How’d it feel?” I asked and he blushed, averting my gaze shyly. “Uh…” he furrows his eyebrows thinking. “Kinda like…your pussy but … like way tighter, and harder if that makes sense.” He looked back at me and I giggle. 

“Hm…ok. It was kinda cool, also really hot, also pretty freaky- when I went to wipe my chin, my hand touched my throat and I felt your dick like…” I giggle, covering my mouth at his shocked expression. “Holy fuck that’s hot” he said and I nod. “Felt weird. I’ll have you feel it next time” I said and yawned a bit, sitting up. 

“I’m gonna brush my teeth then you wanna nap?” I asked and he nodded “I’m not sure why- we’ve done basically nothing but I’m exhausted.” He said and rubs his face. I shrugged, “just your body catching up while it can on rest. I’ll be back.” I said and padded off to the bathroom. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[ink-splotch]

Hi!!! I just wanted to tell you that seeing your new game reminded me that Stay? exists and that it's soooo good. It's been a while since I played it, so I don't remember the details, but I do remember being amazed at how much variation there was, how every detail was perfectly woven into the story, and how human the characters felt despite us not getting that much time to know them. Plus, I personally love war plots, and yours DID NOT disappoint. I also really loved how the different "career paths" impacted your story, and just how many different details and paths you could get depending on what you did at every step of the way. I don't know, I just remember liking it a lot and feeling really accomplished once I managed to beat it.

Also, out of curiosity, who are all the LIs? In my lifetimes, I remained pretty faithful to Myka (love of my life, she was so great!!!), but I imagine Esteban, Jo, Suzette and Gemma to be romanceable. Did I miss someone else?

Another question I have is: how did you get the idea for the game? And by that I mean, what was the inspiration for the plot and all the different characters + why did you even decide to make a CYOA in the first place?

Because, again, it was incredibly good and I'd like to know which stars do I have to thank for it existing.

Anyways, once I'm really excited to play More a Haunting than a History, and I just know it's gonna be as great as Stay? was!

Thank you so much and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

Hello there! Thanks for writing me. There are five major romanceable characters in Stay?: Myka, Esteban, Jo, Gemma, and Suzette. Technically, there are some minor romanceable NPCs (ex. the different folks you can live your life with in the "fuck off into the hills" ending), but those five are the main gist of it. The main five can also also each be platonic life partners for you, rather than traditional romantic partners, if that's more your style.

Myka is my wife's favorite love interest in Stay? by far, so great taste.

Stay? actually has a very clear origin story for me. My friends and I played Outer Wilds, which I highly highly recommend, and I was so delighted by its balance and structure that I wanted to see if I could make something built on the same bones. I drafted up my @sortinghatchats quiz to get used to the ink system, and then dove into Stay?. It was the most fast/obsessed I've ever put a story on paper (so to speak) and I admit I may still be chasing that high.

I built the basic structure first, and then added on the setting, characters, plot macguffins, details, etc. on top, trying to interweave and connect them. I like how it turned out. The plotline with the southern lands, to be vague for spoilers reasons, was actually a very late addition and I think it, in many ways, is what made the game work for me.

I hope you enjoyed MAHTAH! It's a very different game than Stay?, in some ways; and I'm proud of myself in different ways in terms of what I tried to build there.

[1dream-of-me]

i might be so out of lane here but I genuinely ship Polly/Lady Eularia for so many reasons, and honestly here’s why;

For one, Nell has no interest in Polly which she shows on multiple occasions like not reacting to the kiss, never wondering where Polly is/what she’s doing, and not thinking about her after everything is done and over and they’re all ready to go home—hell, Nell plans to live towns away from Polly anyways in the Talbot, long distance relationships are practically nonexistent in this time period unless they’ve been together before the distance. (This is not dissing on Polly/Nell, it’s lowkey a cute ship, I’m just showing why I back this particular ship). Quite frankly Nell hasn’t put a stop to it because she’s not the kind of woman who would. She relishes in it because she’s likely never had an adoring fan before, and simply doesn’t know how to handle the dynamic, so she lets it be.

besides, Polly doesn’t actually desire Nell. Nell likely knows that. After all Polly and Nell have hardly had a complete conversation, and every imagination Polly has of Nell is out of character for her. Polly doesn’t know Nell, she knows the idea of her that gives Polly the sense of adventure and passion she craves.

there’s also the fact that Polly was raised with wealth, Nell doesn’t have wealth and presumably never has (though she has very fine clothing when we first meet her, that might just be because she’s the MC). Polly hasn’t thought about the fact she has no technical wealth (as it all belongs to her father who wants to marry her off into a wealthy family instead), and neither does Nell. That’d mean no fancy dresses, nice bed, warm baths with the oils she likely uses as she’s a Lady. There aren’t any luxuries that would come with, and if she ever saw behind the red-heart glasses she’d see that this badass woman Nell is would be terrifying to be in a relationship with solely because she’d be constantly worried about her wife’s/gf’s health and well being. Also, she’d have to work. Likely at the Talbot or doing something else so they could have money. Polly has never worked a day in her life for anything, not until she gets hired at the paper, which I also have notices on.

Eularia actually sees Polly. She genuinely sees her talent with words and writing, and she knows she would be a good replacement for her last editor. It wasn’t a temporary job, it was permanent one. She could’ve just said “i need this spot filled while I find another”, and that’d be it until she found another editor, but no—she wanted Polly. Nell only recognized Polly’s writing because it was complimenting her eyes in a way that seemed foreign to her, not necessarily that it was good or anything, she had just been put in the limelight. It was a compliment, and while we don’t really know what Nell was thinking, she walked right past that too.

another note about Polly having never worked a day in her life, this job is her passion. She likes reading and writing, it’s the perfect place for her. There’s no forcing herself through a painful task, she’d genuinely enjoy it, and in the spot she has she’d have control over things. Offices like that have high energy and constant working, the kind of feeling she wanted to feel. Not only that Eularia is a tough boss, if Polly liked the way Nell acted when she first met her, how do we think she’d like Eularia’s demanding and commanding persona amongst all the writers in the workplace?

a note on Eularia’s nature is that she is a very dominant woman. That’s just it. We see her and Charles’ dynamic, and we see how much power she proudly wields over him. She enjoys being in control and has a strong personality that makes room for passion. She also craves a younger person who has the energy to meet her level of not exceed it when it comes to romance and lust—I understand Polly is the “innocent” character, but she matches that. Charles has no interest in Eularia, and she’s smart, she knows that. She sees it, and while it may be a poor thing to point out, I genuinely think she’s insecure of her age (though just barely), it’s enough for her to think that Charles is the best she could get. Hence all the effort she puts in for someone she knows deep down doesn’t want her.

Polly has the heart to look past anything. Absolutely anything. She walked right past the fact Nell wasn’t a man, and accepted it because she cared more for how she felt. She feels so deeply and completely that’d she be a wonderful match for Eularia who can provide and love and respect her as a woman while also checking all of the right boxes in her interests such as passion and dominant personalities that crave romance. Eularia wants that. She wants the cute nicknames Charles gives her and the romance she is promised but doesn’t quite receive. They would mesh wonderfully, and especially in a high energy office with close proximity to one another.

honestly I might write a one-shot just for them, because there isn’t really an issue in the age gap if we think about it. For one, from what I understand, Polly is in her twenties. Her father is already wanting to marry her off, and in this time period the marriage age is rather low (even lower than mid-twenties), Polly was also willing to run off with someone who looked at least eight to fifteen years older than her, and Polly doesn’t seem to have an issue with appearances so much as she does hygiene and personality. So pretty much Self Respect.

all of this to say, Polly/Lady Eularia could so happen and I kind of want it to.

[emsylcatac]

I want your neighbour scenario to be the new Adrienette AU. Marinette puts a winky face letter for her new neighbour Adrien, and then regrets it like 30 mins later.

OKAY I hate how it sounds sooo neighbour AU but for real though not to use my current very awkward neighbour story (more details about what this is about in the tags of this poll for those who've missed my latest misadventure) buuut:

Post Hawkmoth-defeat AU where they're in uni or something

Marinette lives in an apartment, number 7 (the number isn't relevant it's just my apartment number ok)

Adrien changed his last name a few years following his dad's arrest because being an Agreste is Not Cool At All and Marinette doesn't know it

Adrien is new in the apartment building and just so happens to move in apartment 6, right on the same floor as Marinette's. Adrien being an early bird on time and Marinette a disaster owl very much not on time in the mornings, they haven't crossed paths yet

On Adrien's mailbox, there's his new name but it's not like Marinette would know it's him, while she hasn't her name on her mailbox apart from her apartment number because she got too lazy to grab a piece of paper and write her name on it. So she's just. Appartement n°7, and so they're not recognising that it's Adrien and Marinette who are their neighbour.

And here comes my story, MLified: Adrien makes a poll in his neighbours' mailbox asking whether anyone would mind if he parked his bike in the building's corridor

Marinette answers his poll and says that of course it's not a problem for her :)

Adrien being nice and slightly too enthusiastic at getting a nice answer telling him he's not a problem coupled with an emoji smiling, decides that the best way to thank his neighbour in a not at all over exaggerated way is to buy her crispy m&ms with a note saying (and I'm quoting the note I got in my mailbox) "congratulations appartement 7, you picked the right answer! Here's a little gift to thank you, enjoy!"

Marinette who finds that waaayy too adorable (and who really needed a snack that day) gets a little too excited, and decides to leave back a note in Adrien's mailbox to thank him

She writes (and I have to quote myself on that): "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE M&M'S!!! So nice!! Don't hesitate to knock if you ever need an egg or salt or something else ;)"

AFTER she dropped the note in his mailbox she realises that the winky face could be WIDELY MISINTERPRETED OH MY GOD YOU DUMB ASS, and promptly goes into "catastrophe" mode. She naturally and rationally considers moving out in a country far, far away.

(and here stops my story for now because I'm at the 'moving far away' part and I do not intend on having whatever lovesquare romance with my new neighbour thank you very much, but Adrinette would enjoy it)

Adrien, who's an oblivious and innocent baby doesn't notice anything wrong with the note and just thinks it's really sweet and friendly :). To thank his neighbour for being sweet, he buys her another pack of crispy m&m's

Marinette on her side start to think he misinterpreted her winky emoji, and is second guessing every new m&ms package coming in her mailbox

Anyway I don't have a follow up for this right now, I guess we could add some ladynoir bonding moments:

Like Ladybug talks to Chat Noir about her winky emoji note all panicked, and Chat Noir is just like "what of it, it just proves you're being nice, right?"

To which Ladybug explains that NO, WELL YES, but it could have other interpretations, and what if her neighbour thinks she's not only offering egg and salt??

To which Chat Noir proceeds to have a mental breakdown because "oh my god my Lady, my neighbour left me a note with a winky smiley the other day offering 'something else', do you think it means she's...implying something else???"

To which Ladybug is like "oh my GOD Chat Noir your neighbour is TOTALLY hitting on you 😱"

HENCE identity shenanigans because they DUMB.and don't notice that their stories are similar, and the notes exchange becomes a lot more confusing on Adrien and Marinette's sides but they keep sending some because heyyy, new friend and free food right?

I will stop this now because it's way too long and nonsensical for what it is, and it's late here fjzjfnzkfn but. Yeah I guess in my distress I. Can make every situations lovesquare-able 🥲

[osscarh]

This is my first post ever and I thought maybe I could share a nice story with ya all. I've never really put it in complete order so it's time I do that.

As prelude, I own 3 cats. One of them, the oldest, is, at the time of writing this, 12 years old, with his papers noting that he was born the 6th of April 2012, 3 days after my dad's birthday. His name is Sacha, despite the vets who all name him Sasha (and also wrote that he's a girl for some reason? I mean he doesn't seem bothered but I don't think he understands English.) His name is kinda dumb but my bro named him. I prefer giving Egyptian names to my cats.

I got Sacha around 2015, I don't really remember which month. I was around 13 at the time and my first cat had just died. My mom was really feeling bad so we adopted Sacha from a center. His previous owners had placed him there cuz the lady got pregnant and apparently cats can mess with fetuses or something. Idk but I think his previous owners were lame cuz he stayed in that center for like 6 months and they took bad care of him. His claws grew in his paws, his fur got a lot of knots and he smelled really bad. He's half Persian so he needs a lot of care.

When he arrived home he was super sweet but really doing poorly. We toon him to the vet for his claws and hired a lady to remove his knots. He didn't like his new cut so the lady zooted him on I thinl weed? It was some drug, mfer has had more experiences with illicit substances than I and I'm kinda jealous tbh.

Sacha was my only cat for a while. My mom adopted Bagheera, a kitten born from one of her sister's cats when she divorced my dad around 2016 and Sacha stayed at my dad's place with me and my brother (the fucker who named him with such a lame name).

Anyway time passed, I lived my best life with my cat, took care of him, took him to vet every year for his vaccines (he goes outside), reconnected with my mom and adopted a kitten who was born in my mom's backyard and named him Settra. So that's why I have 3 cats. But back on track, in 2022 Sacha got an eye infection. We had to do a lot of ophtalmology to get it sorted and my mom helped a lot with that despite the fact that the cat wasn't even in her home. His eye's doing okay now but he needed new material be brought in his eye. Persians tend to be weak in eyes and nose.

Then when the summer vacations of 2023 ended, Sacha got sick. At first it was a minor cold so we didn't do anything, some snot in his nose, then around mid September he ate less. Come end of September and he was doing bad, still eating but always sneezing and his throat was inflamed. I brought him to the vet and he was given antibiotics that kinda helped.

By the beginning of October Sacha was doing pretty poorly and eating way less. He was always a fat cat so this concerned me a lot. The vet couldn't tell why the antibiotics weren't acting as he was supposed to have an infection so they gave him more and asked us to get a visit to a pet hospital 1h of travel away (Belgium is small, 1h of travel looks a lot for me but for American folks it's prilly shorert). So we did, got something planned for end of october. I wanted faster but they were full and he was still eating so not an emergency.

Meanwhile Sacha's health got worse. One of his eyes (not the one who had the surgery) couldn't open and he had little things in the part of forehead between his eyes that made a sort of scritchy sound when you ran your hand over it. Most concerningly, he wasn't eating. We (my mom and I) took him to another vet who did acupuncture with relative success, allowed Sacha to eat well for a day or two before going back to not eating.

I was getting really desperate so I mixed his food and fed him with a syringe for a week. I knew if my dad knew he wasn't eating, he'd suggest euthanasia as the costs of bringing a pet to the hospital are quite high. So I took his wet food, put it in my mom's mixer and mixed it for like 15 minutes when going back from school while dad was away, then cut it into even smaller bits and forcefed him with a syringe (his throat was super inflamed and small so he was probably in pain and I knew it but I couldn't stand to watch him thin like that).

On the 26th of October, we went to the hospital for him. My mom and I were reluctant to go there because it's an universitary hospital and we were kinda scared that he'd be put on life support and...I guess experimented on? We didn't want his life be prolonged if he was in constant pain but we went nonetheless. My mom took a day off work (again, she took a lot to get the cat to the vet) and I warned my Spanish teacher that I couldn't attend. She's a really sweet lady and I told her the story, she was super supportive.

The hospital was not all like we anticipated. The doctors were really charming and quite open with how much stuff cost. I speak French and the hospital staff spoke Dutch so we settled on English as a language to communicate with. Tirns out spending all that time playing dnd with strangers on discord paid off for me, I was able to talk with these docs no problem.

Of course without insurance it was expensive but it was doable to pay. They ran scans on Sacha and it was promising, they said he had an infection but had the right antibiotics for him. Since he didn't eat, they wanted to keep him there and we agreed. We gave our phone numbers and left.

When we visited Sacha the following day, they told us he had a lymphoma. It's blood cancer for those who dunno what that means (I certainly didn't till October). They asked us if we wanted to begin chemo.

I was fucking devastated. That cat had been with me through my parents' divorce, the death of family members, graduation, the lowest of my sick days and the brightest of my good days. I didn't want to leave him die of hunger without a fight.

My mom didn't have enough money to pay for it in full and my dad'd never use his money to pay for a cat's chemotherapy so I agreed to pay most of ot. I had a decent bit of money in a bank account, I basically never buy anything so pockeh money, student job money and birthday money stacked up. My dad'd never have allowed me to pay for that (neither him nor I even knew they had chemotherapy for cats) so I lied and said my mom paid for it.

He stayed at the hospital until the 31st of October, of course we visited him everyday and the hospital staff kept us informed with daily phonecalls to schedule a visit and tell us what was up. During that time (5 days since he arrived, 4 days since chemo started) they put a tube in his throat to feed him and started the chemo.

That. Shit. Worked. When we brought him home, he could open his eye again and even wanted to go for food (motherfucker do you know how much that tube costs?). He played with the other cats and we had a weekly checkup for him. I missed many Spanish classes. During his time at the center he really liked one doctor who calls him Sir and basically saved his life.

Of course he stayed at my mom's place. It was easier for feeding through his tube at first, my mom was in vacations and he needed 3 meals a day, then he stayed there. Wasn't gonna let him stay in the home of a person who'd let him die. I love my dad but fuck him for this. He admitted several times he'd have never brought my cat to that hospital (so he'd have left him die of cancer and hunger, poor cat was thinning by the day).

His tube was removed a month later and visits moved to once every 3 weeks. It's been continuing since then with me and my mom paying 50/50 for the costs. I missed a university travel to Athens because I couldn't afford it (something I'll never admit to my parents, I pretended there was drama and I didn't want to get involved) and I guess I won't leave the country this year. Honestly I'd have cut both arms to save that cat so it's a small price.

The people at the hospital love him too. He's really friendly so students can take his blood and try to take his heartbeat without worries. Problem is that he purrs too loud for a good lung listening to take place. Turns out Sacha loves getting pets and attention from groups of students and doctors who give him treats and headpats. He has done more drugs than me and has a better date game than me.

It's been quite a while now. Sacha's been doing really well and the recent reports note that he is in remission. I may have cried when I read that mail ngl. He goes outside and killed a big pigeon a few weeks ago. He plays with the other cats, he really likes Settra and for the first time in his life he does playfight. Bagheera likes him as a punching bag despite being smaller than him. My mom stays with him everyday and I visit half of the days of the week. He eats like a lion too, he went from 3 kilos to 4.7 kilos when he was last checked this Wednesday.

I guess this is a selfish post, it's kind of my way of both thanking the people who helped me like my mom, the docs and my Spanish teacher, without having to say thank you to their faces yet again, and a way of making my cat immortal in a way. Even with all the help, Sacha's gonna be gone one day, hopefully in a very long time. But this post'll remain for a while more so there'll be a trace of what humans did for that cat.

I also wanted to say that please don't be afraid to go to universitary pet hospitals if you have the means to afford it. It's a scary place, I didn't even know it existed but these people aren't out there vivisecting animals. They're really nice. And don't give up too early on stuff that matters to you, it's really worth to keep going, at least in this case.

And if you could do a few prayers for Sacha, that'd genuinely mean a lot to me.

Anyway here is the cat tax. I've included quite a few pics so this post can be even longer than it is.

Sacha as he was before he got sick:

Sacha as he was in October:

(Don't mind his lack of fur that's because he had too many knots and drastic measures had to be taken)

Sacha as he is now:

Sacha with Bagheera, on their favorite blankets.

Sacha and Settra begging to go outside (it's raining! I open the door and they don't leave!)

I love you, you dumb orange fuck.

[whumpiary]

this is for anon, who requested some cass angst. and for @wildfaewhump​​ who single-handedly tipped the poll in this piece’s favour. thank you for the excuse to get this bad boy into existence! it’s lived in my head for... so so long.

strong content warnings: grief, loss, death, suicide, guilt, self-blame, whumper as caretaker (please note - this piece is heavy. if you are wanting to read but are cautious of the warnings, please shoot me a message or an ask and i’ll happily elaborate)

-

Ace is still putting his shoes on when Tucker comes in to collect him. 

“Do you know what day it is today?”

He looks very proud of himself. Tucker feels exhausted already. “What date is it today, Ace?”

Cass gives him the biggest grin he’s seen on him in weeks, “You really don’t remember?”

“No.”

“It’s our anniversary.”

“...Our anniversary,” Tucker repeats, unamused by the notion.

“Of the day we first met,” Cass beams. “It was a year ago today.”

Tucker can feel the shape of the quip he might’ve used to shut him up or shut him down. He can’t bring himself to use it today. He just sighs, chest tight and uncomfortable, “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm. Was doing the maths and I’ve been here eight months. Or just over, anyway. ‘Cause Simon said the other day the quarterly thing is coming up again, right?” He looks over at him for confirmation as he finishes lacing his shoes. Tucker hums in the affirmative. “Right. And I know that there was one right after I got here, and then another one that happened a couple months back because the lab techs wouldn’t stop bitching about it and that means we’d be coming up to a full-”

Tucker cuts him off to gesture out the door, “Can we walk, please?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ace moves past him and the sliding door closes behind them automatically. Tucker presses the keypad that activates the lock as Ace keeps prattling, turning around to walk backwards, face Tucker as he talks. “Anyway, that means by the next quarterly thing I’ll have been here over a year, right? But I was trying to figure out what the actual date that I got here was. Like my Facility birthday, you know? But because of the fuck around with the transfer papers and the whole…” he waves his hand, vaguely. “I mean like I wasn’t exactly with it, you know? So the dates are fuzzy. So then I was trying to remember-”

“Left.”

“Huh?”

Tucker points down the juncture in the hallway, “We’re going left. Lifts.”

“Oh. Okay.” He looks the other way down the hall and turns to move down it, falling in step beside. “Anyway then I was trying to think about the last time you came to the estate, because that would’ve been a few weeks before I left, right?”

He presses down on the elevator and Tucker reaches across to press up instead, “Something like that.”

“Right. And then that got me thinking bout the first time you came to the Estate-”

“We didn’t meet the first time.”

“Yeah, no, I know. But I remember it because Christopher had had a party, like, the night before and I was fucked. But I remember seeing a new car coming down the drive.”

Tucker hums noncommittally as the elevator doors slide open and they step inside. Another day and he might’ve prodded a little more about what the midweek party of a billionaire entails. Today he just stares forward and presses the button for the top level.

“And I know that the party was on the 12th of July. And you were coming once a fortnight for those first few visits…”

“Mm hmm.”

“Which means the date we met was-”

“It was July 26th,” Tucker says definitively. “I remember.” Hard date to forget for him personally.

“Right,” Cass says. Tucker can see him grinning out of the corner of his eye as the doors glide open. “So what I’m saying is happy anniversary.”

Tucker sighs again and leads them up the last stretch of stairs to the top. “Mm-hmm.”

“You know, you don’t seem that impressed,” Cass objects after him. “I was hoping there would be a little more fanfare or someth- Oh shit, I didn’t know there was a rooftop.”

Tucker holds the door open wide for him to invite him out onto it. There was a reason Cassius didn’t know about the damn rooftop. But he needed somewhere with an iota of privacy. The boarding room walls were woefully thin. Most of the conference rooms had at least half a wall  of glass.

Ace wanders his way out onto it in his usual saunter, pockets sliding into his pockets, admiring the skyline painted gold by the afternoon sun, “It’s kinda pretty actually, woah.”

“Yeah. Well. Didn’t bring you up for the view.”

He glances across and smiles, "You’re not gonna throw me off or something are you? ‘Cause that’d be kind of a douche move on our anniversary and all.”

“I just wanted somewhere quiet,” Tucker says, a little clipped. 

“Oh my god, are you gonna propose?”

Enough. Enough bullshit. “There’s something I need to tell you, Cassius.”

Cass frowns at the sound of his own name, and then laughs through obvious discomfort. “Jesus, full name, huh? Someone die or something?”

Tucker sighs, chest uncomfortably tight, pushing his glasses up briefly to pinch the bridge of his nose. He truly fucking wishes he could’ve delegated this task to anyone else. He probably could’ve, on reflection. But wouldn’t that’ve felt like utter shit? He sighs. Bandaid off. Get it over with. “I got a call today. From the Estate.” 

Ace’s face falls with immediate dread. “...They’re not meant to contact.”

Tucker holds a hand up to stay him, “I know. And they don’t. Usually, But the call was abou-”

“No, I don’t care what it was about.” The panic in him is plain, pulse already visible in his throat, speech fast and clipped, “They’re not meant to contact. He’s not meant to contact. It’s in the contract.”

“I know. But this was-”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Exceptional circumstanc-”

“No contact. That’s in the fucking contract-”

“It was about your brother, Ace,” Tucker snaps.

That shuts him up. Cass’ mouth clicks shut in shock, eyes wide and unsure. Tucker sighs again. There's no way to ease into it slowly now that it's out of the bag. His voice softens to take the step off the cliff, “Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Henri passed away early this morning.”

Cass’ face falls in shock. And then screws up in confusion. And then he blinks. Shakes his head. And a smile is creeping on his face. “Alright. Very fucking funny, fuckhead. Haha.”

Tucker shakes his head. “I’m not joking, Cass.”

It takes a moment for it to click. The loose smile hangs there a beat or too, and then slides off his face like melting wax, dread and horror left in its wake, “No. No that’s not right…”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. No, he’s not even there anymore.”

“He wasn’t in the program, anymore,” Tucker corrects. “He was still in residence.”

“No. After I left, he had four months left.”

Tucker’s mouth makes a grim line. “He wasn’t well, Ace. We all knew that. After you left, it was determined he wasn’t fit for independent living-”

“No. Shut up.”

“And that he should stay on as a resident. I know how you feel about the place so I’ve been keeping tabs. I didn’t want to tell you because-”

“No. Shut the fuck up up. He only had four months left,” Cass spits, near belligerent. “And it’s been eight months. I was just saying that. It’s been eight.”

There’s nothing for it but to keep going through the protests, “He’s been on a downhill slope for a while. They’ve been trying treatment-”

“No.”

“And different interventions but-”

“No this is… this is a joke.”

“He hasn’t been responsive to them.”

“You’re fucking joking.”

Tucker shakes his head, a little surprised by the genuine pang of sympathy in his chest. Hasn’t felt that in a while. “A staff member found him in his room early this morning. By the time emergency services arrived, it was too late.”

For a moment, Cassius looks untethered. Like Tucker’s pushed him into space and cut the line. 

His voice is weak. Wavering, “Tell me you’re joking.”

The empty wind bats the buildings around them. “I’m not joking, mate. I’m sorry.”

“Tᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴋɪɴɢ.”

Tucker shakes his head, palms up and empty. He wishes he had more to offer. “He’s gone, Cass.”

There is a moment of stillness, where he sees the world ending in Cassius’ eyes. It’s a sinking ship. An exploding star. An atom bomb clearing everything in sight. 

And then Cassius takes off in a bolt towards the rooftop's edge.

Tucker moves before he thinks. He lunges, grabs Cassius by the scruff of the shirt and yanks him back, arms snaking around the idiot’s waist to hold him. They fall back together, landing hard on the concrete, and Tucker holds tight, winded as Cass’ elbow finds his ribs.

“Let me go.”

Tucker holds tight, feet pushing against the ground to pull them both backwards and away from the edge. Cass keeps lunging forward, tearing at his arms. Little shit trying to draw blood.

“Tᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ, ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏ.”

Tucker keeps holding, teeth clenched tight in the effort of it. He has never been more glad that Ace’s little trick falls flat on him.

“Tᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ, ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏ, ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ fucking go.”

A hand flies back to bash his face, knocking his glasses half loose. Elbow finds ribs, too-short fingernails scratch and pull at his hands.

“Let me go.”

Tucker shifts their shared weight back, trying to adjust his grip for a stronger hold. Ace kicks his feet like a mad thing, as if trying to knock them both off balance. When that doesn’t work he angles his head down to bite the meat off Tucker’s thumb, earning a sharp yelp, a hand flying, a moment to escape.

Cass makes it all of two steps before Tucker has a grip on him again and is hauling him back down, two hands bunched in his shirt. He pulls him on top of himself like and takes the blows that come before he can fold Ace’s arms up into the vice grip needed to keep him place. He keeps him pinned down with his own body weight, and hand tight around his wrists.

In the helplessness of the hold, the snarling demands crumble into pleas. When the begging proves just as futile, Cass opens his mouth wide and screams. He wails.

The sound is raw and belly deep. An animal screaming in pain and terror and confusion. And in grief. In utter grief. It’s the scream of a kid wanting to go home, in the voice of a barely grown man who knows he doesn’t have one anymore.

Each cry sends electric chills through Tucker’s veins that he doesn’t care for. It rings in his ears and he has to tilt his head back and away from the noise to stand the soul-splitting sound of it. He keeps holding the kid anyway. What else is he meant to do?

It’s then that he knows he was right to bring them to the rooftop for this, despite the near fatality. Out here, Cass can scream. Tucker doesn’t tell him to shut up or clamp a hand over his mouth. And he might’ve had to if they’d still been in the lodging rooms. Out here, Ace can wail his little heart out. The sky doesn’t give a shit. The office buildings don’t care.

He screams. He cries. He screams. He twists his body, he begs to be let go. He screams and screams and screams.

Each burst of sound from is its own living thing. Like one explosion after another. Each one could only be braced through, not avoided, with aftershocks that come in the form of a full-body struggle. Tucker does his best to keep limbs folded tight. At one point he can hear a tear in his suit.

The screams, eventually, turn into sobs. Which in their own time crumble into a broken-hearted weeping.

It’s a strange feeling, echoic and unfamiliar, to hold someone through grief like this. Tucker wasn’t sure there was a soul in the world who’d mourn him this hard if he died. His mother was less likely to waste breath on tears or a eulogy than she was to utter ‘Good riddance.’ and hang up the phone. His own brother, maybe, would at least take a moment of contemplation. Neither of those things were grief. Not this kind. Not this deep.

Eventually, he shifts them so Ace is practically folded in his lap, Tucker’s arm still wrapped around his waist in case a second wind comes. It never does. What churns up instead are confessions of guilt, complicity, regret. One after the other, like rocks falling down a cliff-face.

“I left him there. I fucking left him there.”

Tucker offers the closest thing to comfort he can, unsure if he even entirely believes it, “It’s not your fault, Ace.”

“He was meant to have four months left. It was only meant to be four months.”

“I know.”

“I fucking killed him.”

“You didn’t.”

“I wanna die, just let me die.”

“Not today, Ace.”

“I wanna die.”

He squeezes his shoulder. Rubs his back in a way that he intends to be comforting. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Down below, the traffic is congested and continuous: thousands and thousands of people honking at red lights and swearing at too-slow pedestrians, utterly oblivious to the fact that on a rooftop twenty stories up, someone’s whole world just ended.

Apocalypse in a teacup.

Armageddon in the heart of a twenty two year old.

The weeping does not stop.

[cyberphuck]

"Excuse me. Please don't talk to me unless you're at least an 8." Mika (he/him), the nonbinary vampire informant from Asshole Monster Hunter.

“I love this time of year,” Mika sighed, uncoiling another strand of hair from a pink roller and letting the resulting coil bounce down his back.

“Really? I’d have thought you found it kind of, I dunno, tiresome.”

“Tiresome! The air is crisp, the leaves are changing, and the sun only shows its face for a few hours a day.” Another curl tumbled down. “The only thing I find ‘tiresome’ is pumpkin-spice-everything.” He pointed a slender finger at Ashley in the mirror. “It’s a good flavor. It’s not mind-blowing. Ginger Bread lattes, now, that’s a different story.”

“I mean Halloween. With all the spooky parties and people dressing up as movie vampires.”

“Oh, no, it’s lovely. The closer it gets to the end of the month, the more excited people are to be bitten on the neck. Those wearing a silk opera cape from Wal-Mart even more so. What better way to spend All Hallow’s Eve than with a vamp?”

“I figured Vamps had their own parties.”

“They do. Tacky velvet and rhinestone affairs with too much red wine and too many living guests gawking at all the fangs. It’s the vamp equivalent of a company picnic. No, I prefer a normal sort of party with paper banners and plastic eyeballs in the punch.”

“Because you’re the only vamp working the place,” Ashley guessed.

“A vamp, no.” Mika held up a black headband with lacy triangle ears glued to it. “A sexy cat that’s had a little bit too much to drink and needs to be escorted home, perhaps with a stop in an alley on the way for a little,” he winked, “scratch behind the ears.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not so much as a tired old vampire inviting young desirables to an 'exclusive’ party, with the implication that they’re there as anything other than hors d'oeuvres.” The last roller came out, and he ran his fingers through the curls to loosen them a little before gathering a handful of pins in one hand. “I don’t make a habit of leading people on.” He paused. “In that way, anyway.”

“How many parties are you going to tonight?”

“Four. It’s still a week until Halloween; the parties are only just starting. There’ll be so many on the night of the 31st that if I don’t go to at least nine I’ll consider myself a failure. And you?” A flick of the eyelashes. “Staying home with Messrs. Domino and Netflix again?”

Ashley paused uncomfortably, then, “Nah. I have a thing.”

“A *thing,”* Mika echoed delicately.

“Yeah. Just a casual thing with a friend, a couple of drinks, that’s all.”

“A friend,” Mika said, then, “a boy?”

“A man, yes–”

“Oh, a *date,* I’m all a-twitter. Tell me about this man of yours, where did you meet him, how tall is he, is he educated?

"It’s just Adrian, Mika,” Ashley said tiredly. “You know him.”

Mika’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh, *him.* I don’t know how you stand to be seen with him, it’s obvious you can do so much better. People will talk.”

“We’re not dating, just going out for drinks. He’s been running the shop on his own for almost a year. There’s gonna be a little get-together at his place next week, but he wanted to do something more private for just the two of us.”

“You might not think it’s a date, my dear, but I can guarantee you he certainly does.” Mika put two of the pins in his mouth while he maneuvered the rest into his hair, coiling it into an artless half-bun. “Give someone like him a taste of the high life and he’ll keep coming sniffing after it until you kick him to the curb. Which you ought to have done years ago.”

“Mika, we’ve been friends since we were kids, I’m not just going to get rid of him. It’s just drinks.”

“Take it from me,” Mika said silkily, “coffee is never just coffee, and drinks are never just drinks. Don’t do something you’ll regret, because I won’t hear any of your miserable moaning that you’ve made a mistake after you crawl back here.”

“Thank you, you’re such a good friend,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes.

“Someone has to keep you in line,” Mika muttered, levering another pin into his hair. “Give me that hairspray, and then get yourself in front of this mirror. Disgusting ex or no, you’re not going out in public with your hair looking like *that.”*

[distortedataraxia]

Chuuya x reader

<<With a simple glass of wine>>

wordcount: 609

author note: hi! sorry this is really random and rushed, i don't usually write for chuuya, i felt the need to write something like this in an emotional sense, if you get what i mean. The way it's rushed really frustrate me, but i really don't feel the energy to fix it. I'm posting it to share, incase anyone would somehow enjoy reading this, it's not something i really worked on for long, the characters will probably be out of character. Nontheless, i hope you'll enjoy it despites all! I'll get to your requests soon i promise :') I have been struggling much more with my personal life than before, i hope you understand, take care!

Another day at the armed detective agency, a place you really loved, you really care for the people there, and they care for you too.

Today, you didn't have a lot of energy, you weren't really motivated, but you had to keep your chin up, you had an important mission today apparently, kunikida, your blonde haired guy colleague talked to you about it. You weren't here during yesterday's meeting, so you don't really know what all that is about.

You walk to your desk and look at the papers on it, it seems like you arrived earlier than Kunikida, which is… something. You sigh.

You stared blankly at your papers.

You miss Chuuya, you miss him a lot. You used to be in the port mafia with Dazai, and you both escaped the mafia and worked to save lives together, to follow Oda's wishes, it's been so many years.

But you still miss him.

Even today, you kept dreaming about spending time with him again, you barely even got to spend time with him since, even when the armed detective agency joined force with the port mafia. And he seems to be hating your guts since, you understand why, if your team mate would betray you, you'd feel the same. So you really feel selfish that you have to feel this way, it's been so many years and yet you still dream about it. This feeling just gets stronger and stronger inside your chest, and you feel like burying yourself alive.

"I'm sure he doesn't think about me as much as I think about him anyway" you thought.

You started to read the papers on your desk, and you checked the time. Why were you there before everyone else? Well, honestly, you felt like going to the armed detective agency at 4 am, and your ability allows you to do so, they call you the one that should have worked at a bakery.

Your mission was put there, Kunikida already put the papers there for you- or was It Dazai who pushed his missions to your desk again? It's true that you don't usually get 50 missions with the deadline of 5 hours, jeez, saving the world is easy but annoying.

You left the agency to complete your first mission.

The cold air hits your face, it reminds you of Oda, his cold dead body. You gulp.

Even after all these years, you're not over it, you're not over all the memories. You still dream about everything. You felt like your brain was too much.

It's not like Chuuya dreamed of you the way you dreamed to talk to him like it was a treasure. Sometimes you kept waking up in your sleep because of that.

But you had to accept it, you're not selfish, you can't control people, if they don't like you, than they don't. If they like you but don't dream about you the way you dream about them, miss you the way you miss them or think about you the same amount you think about them, then that's just your issue, everyone is different. Atleast the detective agency is there for you, until the very last moment when they won't be there and it'll be too late.

And it turns out that today ended up to be your last mission ever in this life.

Did it even matter in the end?

It's not like anyone think about you as much as you think about them, did you need people to think about you? Did you need him to think about you? Was that it?

He already forgot about you.

With a simple glass of wine.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi, I would like to request a Harry Potter, Golden Era, matchup, if that’s alright.

Name: Abigail S.

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual (though at the moment I prefer girls more)

MBTI: ISFJ

Appearance: 5’6”, medium, fine, dirty blonde hair. Freckles that run over my nose from cheek to cheek. I’m more pale and have a bigger but muscular body. My style of clothing consists more of hoodies, shorts, t-shirts and that kind of thing.

Personality: I’m more of the quiet type when it comes to new people but when I’m around friends that’s a whole other story. If someone did mess with my friends or family I wouldn’t hesitate to protect and defend them if needed. I always like to put my friends before myself, which I can see how that leads to a bit of an issue. I can also tend to be a bit sensitive at times, (but let’s be real, who hasn’t). I like to consider myself a perfectionist and I like things to be organized and tidy. My Zodiac Sign is Virgo.

Likes: I love to read and write, especially romance and fantasy, my favorite genres. I LOVE animation, I deeply admire all the work and effort that goes into it. I prefer it over life actions shows( my favorites are RWBY, Owl House, and Bluey). I love to play the violin and play video games.

Dislikes: I hate egotistical people, they just annoy me so much. Also, food smackers, I’ve lived through years of it. Lastly, I hate it when people assume about me.(Example is if they say I like something but I actually hate it).

I also really like how you do long requests, all others that I’ve seen are really short and are only three bullets. So, I wouldn’t mind if you wrote to your hearts content. In my opinion, the longer the better!

Anyways, thank you and have a good day/night!

~~~~~MATCH UP ~~~~~

Friend, I match you with the one and only ------

Ginny Weasley!!!

This choice was because the whole time I read your request, I was torn between Hermione and Ginny. I really sat on it and bounced back and forth for a while. Then I reread the following: "If someone did mess with my friends or family, I wouldn't hesitate to protect and defend them if needed. I always like to put my friends before myself, and I can see how that leads to a bit of an issue. I can also tend to be a bit sensitive." I knew Ginny was the winner.

~~~~~HEADCANONS~~~~~

Being the only girl in her family besides her mom, Ginny definitely doesn't care if you dress up or dress down. You are gorgeous no matter what.

Ginny would custom pick the colors for your jumper her mom makes.

Ginny also prefers to be quiet; being the little sister to the wild twins and the heroic brother, she is known to be a bit overshadowed.

When Ginny gets close to people, though, she is just as rambunctious as her siblings. She will rope you into all sorts of mischief during your years at Hogwarts together.

Ginny is also loyal to a fault; she is willing to bravely stand up to anyone who comes at her family wrong. She also didn't care what tabloids or papers said about Harry. Nor did she care about the big mark on her back as Ron's younger sister during her sixth year.

Just as she protects her friends and family, she is fiercely protective of you. Anyone who dares to mess with you will have another thing coming. (She would probably use one of her brother's joke products to prank them)

Ginny is your Ying to your Yang when it comes to cleanliness. Now, by no means is Ginny a slob, but she definitely learned to live in organized chaos with all her brothers.

She does make it an extra habit, though, that if you are coming to visit her dorm, she picks everything up nicely.

Ginny could listen to you play your violin for hours; she's so used to the magic-enchanted ones that it never dawned on her until she met you how beautiful people playing is.

Ginny loves to hide in the library or astronomy tower with you, reading books and talking about all the romantic tropes you two are in or not in. (definitely write in the margins of her books when you talk about something you would like happening to you)

~~~~~BLURB~~~~~

You and Ginny sat atop the Astronomy tower, eating your fruit basket while reading your romance novels, which you had nicked from Hermoines's trunk. She always had the best romance novels since they were written by muggles who knew nothing of love potions or luck potions. Turning the page of your book gently, Ginny set her book down softly, looking at you lovingly. As you read a specific line of your book, your eyes widened, and your face blushed. You have just gotten to the scene where the book guy leans on the door frame.

Ginny, noticing your face growing warm, speaks up, "Abigail, what seems to be the matter? Find a new romance trope you would like to give a shot?" Eagerly awaiting your answer, Ginny pulled out her quill, ready to write down what you would like her to do for you on some parchment. A devious plan formed in your head as you looked up at the female. Who said this specific trope had to wait till later? Smiling gently, you spoke, "Love, would you go stand in that doorway for me?" Looking at you, genuinely confused, Ginny stood up and walked to the door you had nodded at. Standing in her disheveled uniform, waiting for her following instructions, she looked cute following commands so willingly.

"Okay, now I need you to put your left arm above your head, bend it slightly, and lean kinda sideways on the door." You spoke enthusiastically. However, as the scene before you unfolded, you couldn't hold back the giggles. How could one human look so ungodly uncomfortable? "Merlin beard, Abigail, this is killer on my stomach. How much longer do you want me to do this?" Trying to contain your laughter, you stood up and approached the poor girl. You relieved her of her duty, leaning on the door and showing her what you meant. Ginny eyed you up and down admiringly. She leaned in gently and kissed you on the lips before pulling away. "Now I understand, love; you wanted me to do that thing the guys do in the books." Nodding your head gently, you leaned back in and captured Ginny's lips in another kiss.

You two got back to your books. However, as your mind wandered back to Ginny's horrid attempt, you couldn't help but start laughing, causing a book to be thrown at your head.

~~~~~EXTRA~~~~~

(Molly sits in her home knitting a jumper for one of her kids; across from her, Ginny sits attempting to knit.)

Molly: No, no, dear, you have to do it like this. (Molly demonstrates the method again to Ginny)

Ginny: Mother, there is no way this should be that hard. You make like twelve of these a year. How come I cannot figure it out?

~~~Back at school after break~~~

Fred: Abigail, you won't believe the most horrendous gift Ginny has for you.

George: Seriously, she spent all break on it, and it's worse than Mum.

Abigail: Boys, be nice to Ginny. I will love anything she gives me.

(Ginny rushes up to her girlfriend and hugs her close.)

Ginny: Abigail, look, I made your jumper this year! (hands the poorly misshapen and uneven jumper to you.)

Abigail: (turns and whispers to Fred and George) Please tell me your mum made me a different one.

(Molly did make you a different one, yet somehow you always found yourself wearing the one Ginny made you see that beautiful smile)

I hope you liked it, friend! Thank you for your request!

[mlobsters]

supernatural s4e19 jump the shark (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)

episode should be titled 10 more reasons to hate john winchester

seinfeld s5e22 the opposite - dedee pfeiffer as victoria

another tiny role on seinfeld that i know well because i saw them all enough and at a time when my brain was better at recording things.

okay but also? i think i know her from cybill?? which i probably haven't thought of since the 90s. and sometimes i wonder how i originally knew actors like say, alicia witt and christine baranaski and something like this drags it up from the depths

cybill (1995-1998) dedee pfeiffer as rachel blanders

okay but back to dean getting shat on. dear old dad wanted to give one of his kids a normal life and take him to baseball games and go camping that didn't involve killing monsters. aw, that's nice. except for all the gross child neglect of his kids he was supposed to be fulltime sole caregiver of. granted he didn't get involved in this kid's life until sam was away at college so it's not like the nice things happened simultaneously to the neglect. still hate you, man. and the recap made sure to remind us of how john treated sam's going to college.

that look sam gave adam after dean loses paper scissors rock was cute. was feeling the sibling vibes.

also got me considering the logistics of man sized ventilation inside this random house.

sam giving this kid the dad and dean no friends no life routine is something. remember this little exchange at the gas pump:

s1e6 skin:

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

SAM: You’re kind of anti-social, you know that?

but also harkens back to when dean was just trying to keep everyone alive while the other two were hellbent on self destructive revenge. which dean has been selling sam is just like dad and that's why they don't get along since then, but i'm not quite sure i buy that.

from s1e22 devil's trap:

Sam: We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you’re the one who came and got me at school! (Dean scoffs) You’re the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I’m just trying to finish it!

Dean: Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.

that line about being the one to bury you lives rent free in my head.

i mean, i get what he's putting down in regards to his revenge quests, but i don't think there's a lot of similarities outside that. maybe because i like sam and john was a child neglecting piece of garbage. that is definitely a big blinder for me 🥴

i'm sure people enjoyed all that uh, excessive wound fingering and such with sam.

but my issue is those very significant cuts through his forearms and he's all fine and dandy in the next scene. he'd have some wicked number of stitches. and i guess nothing major was cut. just fleshy bits that dean can sew back up? i know, medical accuracy is way way WAY down on the list. but when they focus on the volume of blood he's losing so rapidly, i can't help but start to think of the logistics! anyway, made me think about hannibal's big ass scars in a similar place from matthew brown.

okay but also the kid has a point, of the ghouls were only eating dead people, was it really that important to be killing them?

that turned out a lot more therapeutic than i expected. and somehow i didn't know that fate of adam so i was actually surprised. i always am glad for dean to be working through some of his dad issues. sam is full of questionable choices these days. i'll give it to him, the writers, whatever. he really does sell that he's earnestly truly trying to do the right thing. but everything is a flaming pile of shit anyway.

DEAN I mean, I worshipped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. And I see that now.

SAM I'll take that as a compliment.

DEAN You take it any way you want.

i mean.

anyway. okay i liked this episode even though i'm nervously looking at the time with how close the end of the season is and here we are off killing some monsters like it's any other week. this felt like an earlier to mid season episode. quality dean and sam time, daddy issues on blast.

and forever grateful shoutout to supernaturalwiki.com, the documentation is immaculate, found the episode with the bury you line in it in under 5 minutes.

[fangirlstuff]

Hi back again 🤠

Elevate by St. Lucia with Eddie. The song has 80 vibes and newer song Ive started listening to. Love me some Eddie🖤❤️🦇

Thank you!💐✨🌻

Elevate

Summary: This is a story based on the vibes and lyrics of Elevate by St. Lucia. In the story, Eddie and the reader (no y/n, they/them third person) go through another upside down attack (which isn’t pictured). Afterward, Eddie seems to have lost the main character, and he doesn’t know what to do to get them back.

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Reader (no y/n, third person)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: this is really sad I’m sorry, but it’s also really sweet. So, angst and a little fluff. Nothing too bad :)

AN: this is unedited, but I’m happy with it without it being too good, so here you are anyway!! I hope you enjoy. Also, if you have a song you’d like me to write a story about, tell me!!

He didn’t know what he expected.

This wasn’t it, he was sure. The countless days without contact, the averted, glassy gazes in the hallway. He even held their hand at lunch- under the table, like they’d asked. But he still didn’t get so much as a look from them.

Was it him?

He thought it was. He knew it was. What else could it have been? He wasn’t sure if they were avoiding the others the same amount- he hardly paid attention- but he knew it was him.

He tried calling. There was no answer. He tried again, and still nothing. Was twice too much? Did they just need space today, like they had for weeks? It was fine, he assured himself. They really just did need time, time away from everything. Time to heal. To forget the intimate details.

He called again. It was after school, he had his homework laid out over his floor and a cigarette warming his fingers. The black phone dangled from his fingertips. He was listening to the buzz on the other side for white noise, to fill the void they left behind.

“Hello?” The phone asked. Eddie scrambled to put it to his ear, picking the cigarette ashes from his bedsheets before they could catch fire.

“Hi!” He said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He cringed at his excitement, and it boiled back down to normal. This was a normal phone call, after all.

“Eddie?” They asked.

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to call so many times.”

“It’s okay,” they said. They didn’t sound so sure. “Is there something you need?”

“Do you want to smoke?” He asked. They hardly finished their question. He shook his head on his side of the line, almost as if it would answer him for him.

“Yes,” they breathed.

Eddie couldn’t contain his smile. “Be here in ten?”

“Fifteen.”

The phone hummed. They hung up. Usually, that sound would leave nothing but heartache and the taste of bile in his throat, but now he had butterflies.

He tidied his room.

No, he didn’t. He threw his clothes under his bed, smashed the papers back into his backpack, and lit a candle. He didn’t make his bed. He didn’t throw out the wrappers from his snacks this afternoon, nor did he make sure his bathroom was clean. It was good enough, probably.

His doorbell rang in less than fifteen minutes, he was sure of it. But he opened it probably too fast- he had been pacing in the living room.

“Hi,” he said. They smiled back. It didn’t reach their eyes, it was more polite than a welcome. Eddie moved out of the doorway, and led them down his hallway.

They followed, he hoped. Their footsteps were silent, their breathing didn’t make a noise. He noticed, of course he did. He always noticed. He didn’t know why. He didn’t have a reason for a lot of things with them lately, and he didn’t like not having answers.

They sat on his bed. He remembered times before these, before that summer. Back when they’d trace his back and ask about his scars again, and he would tell the same lie- he scraped himself badly on the ground when he tried to skateboard. It was simple enough to be true, but not elaborate enough to make sense. They kept letting it go, but they took notice of all the things Eddie would bristle at, when he would turn the radio down. All those little things, they noticed.

Then it happened to them. They had to spend a week in that other hell, one where things weren’t as forgiving. They came back a different person- all those kids did- but Eddie knew they had it the worst.

He was there for the first week after they all brought them back. They were a terrified mess, they would never leave Eddie’s side. He didn’t want to leave, but when the night terrors calmed and he could leave them at their own house, he let them have some space. He knew that it would help.

It made it worse. It made it so, so much worse. They stopped talking to him, they stopped being themself. He hardly got a laugh out of them, hardly saw their eyes light up. He had hardly been there long enough to.

But when he looked back up, when he came back to, he saw that they were staring at the bed. Maybe they were remembering the same things. Missing the past too.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Eddie breathed. Their eyes snapped to meet his.

“Why?”

“I can’t help you. I can’t give you what you need.” He hoped they understood he wasn’t talking about any drug. “I can’t afford therapy, I can’t help you. I want to, I want you to be okay.”

He thought they would start crying, or try to run away, or tell him it was okay. Hell, anything would be fine. But they just stared at him. They just stared, and something inside Eddie shattered.

He was crying before he knew it. He felt the warm tears rolling down his face, but he made no effort to rid of them. “I have two things I can do, just two.” He said. He sat on the bed next to them, but he didn’t meet their eyes.

“I can just shut up and roll a joint and we can sit here and smoke until we can’t breathe,” he paused. “Or I can take you out of here. We can get out of the town and just forget for a while.”

“Get me out.” They whispered, like if they spoke too loud, one of those things would come for them. Eddie almost let out a sob, he wanted nothing more on this earth than to see them happy again.

So he took them by their hand out of his bedroom. His keys were in his hand before he even realized he’d taken them, and they were in the van in seconds.

He didn’t know where he was going. He just took the highway North and kept going. The radio was off. The road and clouds and trees flew by, and his gas tank was getting low. He didn’t have money with him, but he didn’t need it.

He stopped at the next town over. He looked to his passenger’s seat, and he could almost see a weight lifted off his love’s shoulders. They seemed like they weren’t exhausted as badly, like they could have had just a normal day at work.

Eddie got out of the car first and opened the door for them. They took his hand, and he led them into the nearest shop he could find.

The sun was setting. The window to the shop had a strange film over it, one made of dust and years worth of fingerprints. Through the glass shone yellow sunlight. It reflected everywhere throughout the store, bouncing off of the shelves.

A rack of sunglasses stood on each aisle cap, and there were rows of tshirts, always on clearance. Eddie watched his love shuffle through the clothes, their fingers grazing the fabric of each one.

A song came on the staticky radio of the store. Eddie listened hard to the lyrics, but he couldn’t make them out. The beat sunk into his head though, and stuck there.

They bought a few things, little trinkets that put the faintest of smiles on their face. Every time their eyes lingered a little longer on something, Eddie put it in his hands. Soon, they were full, and he was worried his wallet would be emptied when they checked out.

Eddie hardly let the bag of things fall onto the van’s floor before he turned to face them. They looked shocked for a split second, but then melted back into their quiet state.

He started humming the song that played in the store, the beat just a little off, the lyrics not quite sewn together correctly. He offered them his hand. They stared at it, then stared at him, asking a question. He just shook his hand a little, and they took it.

He danced them around the back of the van like he would dance with any normal girl, dipping them close enough for them to hit their head on the asphalt if he slipped.

He kept humming the same verse he’d gotten down, but the repeating notes didn’t dull the mood.

They looked so beautiful in this golden light, after months of being so far out of his reach. They’d looked beautiful in the school cafeteria when it was pouring outside, or in their car outside of his band’s garage in the middle of the night. But this was a kind of beauty he had never seen on them, and it suited them well.

He wanted to kiss them, probably.

Instead, he helped them stand back upright, and then kissed their knuckles. It would have to do, he thought, as he let their hand go.

His heart was racing. He blamed it on the dancing, but he knew that being so close to them made his heart do crazy things.

But they were smiling, and all of a sudden, all those months of waiting were worth it. Just this one moment brought all the grief to a point. And he was thankful.

Eddie tucked a strand of their hair behind their ear, touching the side of their face with his fingertips. They almost leaned into it, but he took his hand away quickly. He stared walking backward, carefully, before he turned.

He opened the door to his van and they followed. He closed it after them, and made his way to the other side of the car. He was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt; just knowing that he was still capable of getting a smile out of them felt good.

He drove them to an empty parking lot and lit a cigarette. He held it to them, and they took it without hardly looking. They took a long drag and handed it back, keeping the smoke in their mouth until it probably hurt, then they let it all out. Their shoulders fell. Eddie watched them shut down, but decided to ignore it.

He turned the air conditioning up a little more, then climbed into the backseat. He fluffed a few pillows and sat on one, and set up a seat in front of him.

They followed suit, sitting on a red plaid pillow. The back of the van reeked of weed and alcohol, even though Eddie normally didn’t do the drinking. Under that, the van smelled like gasoline and vanilla, old takeout and wet dog. It was a wild mix, but it felt like home to both of them. It was familiar.

Eddie didn’t mean to stare at them, you have to believe him. His eyes just kept finding their lips, their hair, their eyes, their fingers. It was all a blur of what he was looking at. He was far away, back in last summer, and the smoke swirled back into happy days in the hotboxed van.

He remembered smiles, popsicles, honey. Yellow wallpaper in their house, Harrington’s purple BMW when Eddie’s van broke down, his own posters that had yet to be torn. It was mushing together with the pass of time, and he wished it weren’t that way. He wanted to remember everything before Vecna’s final attack. He wanted to live there forever, even if he and the gang were always on the edges of their seats, waiting for him to strike next. He would take Will’s strange words over this silence any day.

Eddie wasn’t paying attention to their eyes after a while. Their eyes, which kept finding his.

“Hey,” they said. Eddie didn’t know how much time had passed, but the cigarette was down to ashes in his fingers. He frowned as he snapped back to.

“Hey.”

“I really want to kiss you.”

He almost shook his head, not in a no kind of way, just one to free his hair, maybe, or to make sure he heard them right. “What?”

“Can I?”

“Of course,” he almost asked it, he must have been imagining it. But they got off their little red pillow and hovered their face over his. Eddie pressed his fingertip to their lips before they made contact. “That’s not just the weed talking?”

But they pushed through his finger and kissed him anyway. Their eyes slipped closed and the two fell into a rhythm, one that didn’t quite make up for all the time lost, but one that promised more.

It was sweet, it tasted of a bigger city’s air and chapstick they’d picked up at the store earlier. It tasted sad too, like it was a goodbye more than it was a welcome.

Eddie backed away first. He could tell there was something on his love’s mind, and he would let them speak if it meant he got to hear their voice again, even if they were probably going to push him away.

Eddie held their shoulders, and they broke into tears. His heart broke: he should have been mad or sad for himself. He should have felt bad. But he didn’t. He just felt sorry. So, so sorry that they had to go through all of that during the summer. He had been there, and he knew what it was like. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, not even Vecna himself deserved to be thrown into that place.

They went back to their pillow, slumping against the metal wall of the van. The whole thing shook, but Eddie hardly felt it. He just watched as tears rolled down their cheeks, knowing it was best if he didn’t touch them.

When their throat cleared enough to speak again, they whispered words that would have brought Eddie to his knees in tears if he weren’t trying so hard not to let his emotions take over- maybe it would be better for them if he held himself to gather.

“I just need time.”

He swallowed his tears. They burned all the way down, threatened to bubble back up. He just kept swallowing until he could respond.

“And I’ll give you all you need. All of it. I’ll wait for you.” It all came out in one breath. He wasn’t sure how much of it actually hit them in the heart, where he hoped it would sink in.

Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.