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rayveneyed · 2 months

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cw: sexually explicit content / blood / relatively light sadomasochism / age + experience gap (reader is older + more experienced) / sub!choso / vampires 🧛‍♀️ / sex and violence as two sides of the same coin /

choso kamo is 160 years old when he meets you.

in those years of walking the earth, undead, he believes he’s embraced his vampirism as much as he possibly can. the broiling self-hatred he had once found solace in has reduced to a simmer, strongest in those moments of blood and guts and weakening heartbeats; and although he often avoids crowds, and companionship, and light, he no longer believes himself to be a slave of his own nature.

to be true — in the grand scheme of immortality, of vampirism — he isn’t anywhere close to the level of control he’d wish to have. often, when indulging yuji’s desire to enjoy the world as he did before his death — boardwalks and arcades and cotton candy — he feels his canines aching in his gums, stretching until they dimple against his bottom lip.

it’s not comfortable. it’s not confident. but even despite the growing aches, he’s no longer cowering in alleyways; no longer drinking from poor stray cats and garbage-chewing rats to momentarily satiate that ever-growing, gnawing hunger. he has some sense of control—

“oh, you baby-bats. so adorable.”

control which he now flounders to grab.

a sharp, inky black nail scrapes up the column of his neck — he can’t help but arch into it, head tilting back until his wide, pupil-blown eyes find the ceiling, with its intricate coving and obsidian chandeliers. the music from the main hall is nothing but a buzzing in the back of his head; thoughts of his friends’ whereabouts, an afterthought. your fingernail crowds the underneath of his jaw and stops at where his pulse point would have thrummed, would he have been alive.

you’re a demon. a devil. a she-beast. a succubus. any horrid, terrible name he could call you, he will — dressed in blacks and burgundies and gold older than him, your lips painted an ox-blood red and your eyes as sharp and dark as any polished knife. in your hands he is small. weak. mortal.

“satoru usually keeps his strays away, after last time,” you say, pouting now, though it’s a crude approximation of sadness — even now, your eyes glint with devilment. “so mean, when he knows i have a weak spot for bats like you.”

that wretched finger stretches up; pokes at his bottom lip, scrapes against the fangs that had — embarrassingly — extended from his gums at the simple weight of you on top of him.

“look at that,” you coo, and your grin is something unsettling, something that curdles in the pit of his stomach and heats between his legs. “excited, pup?”

his answering breath comes ragged, and it’s always more embarrassing than it was when he was human. his heart doesn’t work, his lungs do not work, and he has no need to breathe — in fact, he lost the reflex to do so around 92 years ago — but his brain is scrambled, it seems, wilted neurons confusing signals from almost two centuries ago. “i’m — ahem — i’m okay, duchess.”

“how sweet. you don’t have to call me by my title, you know. my name will do just fine.” at his silence, you push yourself up from where you’d been laying low against his chest — looking far too excited when you say: “unless, of course, you like it.”

his hands tremble at his side. he can’t remember the last time he’s indulged in — in debauchery. the last time someone’s made him feel like they’re holding his heart in their hands. over the past hundred-odd years, he’s avoided it like the plague, and for good reason — most vampires aren’t known for their commitment, let’s just say. and now you’re on top of him looking like every sin he’s tried to avoid, and he’s straining so hard in his pants he fears he’ll cum before you even hint at removing a single article of clothing.

you press yourself flush again, nosing at his neck. he knows, for the first time in his long life, what it feels like to be prey. is this what his victims had felt when he ripped into their throats, young and inexperienced and bloodthirsty? did their vulnerability sit like a stone in their throats?

a groan comes from you, suddenly, and your tongue darts out to lave against his skin. choso’s answering moan is more of a whimper, broken and weak in his mouth, but you don’t seem to notice — or care. he flexes his glutes in an effort to stop himself from rutting up against you — not only would it be embarrassing, desperate, but it would be rude. this is your house, after all. your soirée. your gilded halls and bedazzled walls. your silk sheets against his back. your satin skirt bunched around your waist.

“tell me, pup,” you say, and he fights the instinctual reflex to shiver at the brush of your lips against his skin, “have you ever fed from our own?”

“hm?” it’s a sound of confusion brought half on by his simple lack of knowledge, and half on by his slow-processing brain. only seconds after does he fully register your question, and the eyes he hadn’t realised he had screwed shut flew open. “no. i — i didn’t know that was possible.”

all at once, you’re sitting up again — swinging your leg over his hips until you’re standing. it wouldn’t be right to call it clambering — you are impossibly graceful, even passed the agility and elegance that comes with the gift of the undead. his hands reach for you before he can stop them, a sound like a question on his tongue, and you send him the sweetest, most tooth-rotting, stomach-turning smile. he thinks he likes your biting, cruel grins more, though you’re lovely regardless.

you begin to reach for the ties of your corset at your spine — just another thing that makes his mouth water. people didn’t wear these sorts of clothes anymore, not in the human world. but he remembers the skirts and corsets from paintings of noblewomen hundreds of years ago, and how he’d admire the curve of their waists, the swell of their chests—

“of course, satoru wouldn’t tell you. why would he?”

his eyes snap up from your chest, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but you don’t seem to mind. the corset is removed painfully slowly, for no other reason than to torture him; then, the outer dress, with its carmine satin and intricate embroidery. you throw it to the floor carelessly, as if the most knowledgeable museum curators wouldn’t prostrate themselves at your feet for the simple chance to display it for millions to see — a while his eyes drink up the sight of more skin, the whisper of form beneath your underdress and bloomers, you near him once more.

metal to a magnet, a moth to flame, he pulls himself to the edge of the bed. you find a place between his legs and grasp his chin, and choso can’t look away from you.

“i can take you apart and put you back together,” you say — promise — voice like crushed velvet, quiet and creeping like a choking vine. your thumb smooths over his cheek and ends at its apple, where you press the sharp tip of your nail into his flesh. “i can show you the pleasures of your eternal life, and its pains, and everything in between. i can bring you to every edge, and draw you back from them just as quick — and it will be painful, and you’ll enjoy it so much you won’t be able to go another day without it.”

he’s lost the ability to speak. his unmoving heart is in his throat — or in your hands, or between your sharp teeth. you tilt your head and regard him with knowing, twinkling eyes.

“all you have to say, pup, is yes.”

oh, it’s out of him so quick he can hardly keep up — a word so breathy you’d swear you’d already had your way with him. but embarrassment is a thing of the past when your smile stretches, and you murmur marvellous. you release him from your grasp, much to his chagrin, but when you begin pulling down your bloomers his attention shifts.

he can smell you. smell you. the musky, salty scent of between your legs — a smell that has his mouth watering and his fingers cramping from how hard he fists the sheets. your bloomers are damp when you discard them, sticky with your arousal, and pride glows in choso’s chest. he didn’t do much, but it seemed enough — if he had only let himself lose control, hump up against you harder, perhaps it would’ve stained his clothes; seeped through your layers and onto his lap. he’d go home and hold it over his nose until the scent faded, and perhaps after.

“new as you are,” you say, climbing onto your bed once more and reclining back against the numerous pillows — huffing a mean-sounding laugh when he crawls after you. “i’ll do you the mercy of taking it easy, just this once. oh, don’t make that face — you look like a kicked puppy. i promise you’ll enjoy what i have in store for you.”

and you hike up your underdress, and spread your legs. choso’s mouth waters — the thick smattering of hair on your mons, your flower-like labia, shiny with your arousal. and your clit, peeking out from its hood, pink and shiny and begging to have his mouth on it. but as if this wasn’t enough — as if he wasn’t already scrabbling to get between your legs — you take one of those long, sharp nails, and drag it against your inner thigh. the skin splits. blood trickles down from the wound like a river of gold, flowing into the crease between your thighs and your pussy, and it smells ambrosial. if his fangs were aching before, they’re screaming, now. this isn’t human blood; this is richer, sweeter, creamier. delectable. hedonistic. you’ll make a glutton of him.

“after all,” you say, grinning wickedly, “i’m treating you to a most delectable meal.”

#sub choso u will always be famous #living out my gothic vampire dream. need #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #anime x reader #choso x you #choso kamo x you #jjk x you #anime x you #choso smut #choso kamo smut #jjk smut #anime smut #im thinking about the lore for this au now #gojo who acts like a hedonist but is actually tortured by the reality of his immortality #nanami who strictly feeds either on animals or sustainably sourced human blood 😭😭😭😭#vampire hunter toji who is also a vampire a la mikael mikaelson #also pup is what baby bats are called……. im dying #also goths call beginner goths baby bats but i think its fitting here #also no choso is not a baby or a child or anything he is v much a consenting adult 😭😭#i jusg think it puts like the extent of immortality into perspective #idk its 3am and i have work tomorrow #who up subbing they choso

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napakmahal · 4 months

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Good Looking Boy (Pt 2 to Normal Girl)

Hey, so let’s pretend I didn’t fly off the face of a Earth on not update for like a month but part two is finally here. Enjoy

Tadashi was not doing well. He felt like shit and looked like it too. Ever since your argument, Tadashi had started going through a medium-grade depression. You two didn’t break up, and you still took him out after his hearing but something was off and he hated it. For the first time in history, Tadashi’s clothes were blocking the door to the boys’ bathroom. Hiro pulled on the door handle but the clothes and other crap were making it difficult to open.

“When are you gonna clean your side of the room?” He asked out of breath with a cramped hand.

Tadashi didn’t respond and just pulled his comforter closer to him indulging in shitty reality T.V. When Tadashi goes through seasonal depression, he doesn’t want to watch anything that feels like he’s working. He doesn’t want to watch a murder mystery that requires him to remember tiny nuanced details from the first episode or anything philosophical that would make him think. Enter reality television, it’s dumb, effortless, entertaining, and has in-depth recaps of what happened in case he missed something in the episode before. Hiro hadn’t realized how bad it was until he got home one day from school.

Tadashi was staring at his laptop while chewing on a piece of anti-headache mint gum. (mint helps with headaches)

“What are you watching?” Hiro untied his shoes and threw them into an unidentified corner.

“Vanderpump rules.”

It was like Hiro could hear horror movie music start playing in his ears behind someone screaming “I WASN’T YOUR BEST FRIEND HOE!” It was then he finally decided to call all of Tadashi’s friends, he needed assistance. He already had to watch his older brother self-destructively indulge in The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and Love Island every winter and he wasn’t sure either of them could take anymore.

That afternoon, Wasabi pulled up in his yellow Volkswagen with the rest of their friends. Hiro had asked them to drive around the back to the garage and meet him inside the garage. Once they were all inside, Hiro made sure to shut the door and gave everyone a small can of iced tea so they’d have something to spit out at the news.

“Okay, so why have we been summoned?” Fred cracked his can open.

Hiro took a deep breath, “Tadashi’s been watching reality shows, and it’s not December.”

“Shit, is he okay?” Gogo ran her hands through her short layered hair.

Honey urged, “Yeah what happened?”

“Have you guys ever met y/n?” Hiro brought his voice levels down. The entire group nodded, referring to meeting you at a karaoke bar where you were Tadashi’s plus one. “Alright well, I haven’t and neither has my aunt.”

“So?” Wasabi shrugged like it was no big deal because it really didn’t sound like a big deal.

“Sooo, she came by like last week and we had no clue who she was. I don’t know what happened but I know Tadashi and her got into some kind of fight and things are weird now.”

“Did they break up!?” Honey gasped.

“No, they still talk but it’s mad weird.”

Gogo pushed, “Weird, how?”

“Like they talk like strangers. ‘Hey, how are you?’ ‘Good, you?’ ‘Good, what are you doing?’ ‘Nothing, just bored. ‘Me too” over and over again.” Hiro wasn’t exactly a relationship therapist but he knew that was not normal for a girlfriend and a boyfriend that has been together as long as they had to talk to each other like that.

“Did you call her?” Fred leaned forward in his chair.

“Psh, no.” Hiro scoffed.

Wasabi asked, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t know her like that!”

Fair enough response. They knew something was going down with Tadashi when he stopped joining their group calls claiming to always be ‘tired’ and when he started leaving the lab hours earlier so he could go straight home and rot in his room. They tried, but nothing seemed to work, and he wouldn’t tell them the problem. He just didn’t want to depress anybody.

“Honestly,” Honey sighed. “I think we have to call her because I’m not so sure there’s anything we can do about it. It’s a problem between them.”

“But they do talk and it’s not going anywhere.” Hiro countered.

Wasabi backed up Honey’s point by saying, “That’s more like conversing, actually talking would be totally different.”

That night, Hiro snuck to the side of Tadashi’s room and typed in his passcode (Tadashi’s phone passcode is Hiro’s birthday and his wallpaper is an old picture of 5-year-old him sitting between his parents in the hospital bed holding onto baby Hiro with the help of his dad.) But his home screen is a picture of you two brushing your teeth in the mirror making faces with toothpaste foam all over your mouths. Hiro clicked on the messages app and sent a text.

——————————————————————————

This was so depressing. You'd been listening to a playlist with 800 different moods to it while you did your makeup to go absolutely nowhere. You hadn’t been exactly normal since the whole ‘my boyfriend didn’t tell your family about me’ thing. He’d reiterated to you that talking about boyfriends and girlfriends in the Hamada house is odd and uncalled for. You understood but still, something was off. This was the longest time you two hadn’t slept over, or just sat in your car talking for hours. You missed your boyfriend so much. But every time you talked to him it was so awkward like he was still feeling guilty over what happened. Sure it hurt but you’d accepted it and they knew you now. You’re grown, learning to accept things with peace is part of growing up. Plus it was just a familial thing and Tadashi loved his family so much. He makes fun of Hiro endlessly but he would rather die than have anything happen to him, he paid his aunt’s light bill without her knowing because he felt bad after seeing her on the phone with a tax collector, and he misses his parents so much. Once he was having a hard time picking out a suit he could wear to an internship he felt overwhelmed and he said “If my dad was here he’d help me.” Still, it still seemed Tadashi was holding back in all of your conversations.

You finished up your double-winged eyeliner and just as you were about to change Hit em up to Something Stupid, your phone dinged. Both your wallpaper and home screen was the picture a stranger took of you, your mom, and Tadashi at your mom’s graduation.

Hey, can we talk?

You texted back: Like rn?

No, in person.

Fuck. That’s never a good sign. But yet you just said: Ok, when?”

Tomorrow, my place. There's an opening on the side where the garage is. Knock.

These tiny sentences were starting to confuse you. Tadashi didn’t text in small sentences. He was the person who wrote grammatically correct paragraphs in text. Usually when he planned things he would tell where what time, when, where, and why he wanted to meet up. So this was starting to scare you. Regardless, you agreed to meet in person. You took off your makeup and tried to get as much sleep as possible.

——————————————————————————

Tadashi wasn’t looking much better the next day. He came down from their room hours after Hiro did. It wasn’t uncommon for Tadashi to sleep in his boxers, especially in the warmer months. But he usually puts on shorts or sweatpants before coming down. Not this time.Hiro was mid-sip of his daily emergen-c (he suffers from low vitamin C) when he saw his older brother looking like he got hit by a cable car walking down the stairs. Hair a mess, wearing a plain white shirt, his blue and white boxers, and eyes like bruised shopping bags. He looked like something Mochi coughed up.

“Good morning.” Hiro said warily.

Tadashi just groaned in response and leaned past him to get to the vitamin cabinet. When he reached to grab the large container of calcium vitamins, Hiro backed the hell up.

“Bro,” Hiro nearly whispered in disbelief. “When’s the last time you showered?”

Tadashi still said nothing and just shot his brother a dirty look. He took his calcium pill and went back upstairs to their room. It wasn’t until he sat down on his bed and stared off into space for a moment that he’d come to the realization.

“Fuck, I need to shower.” He whispered to himself.

He grabbed somewhat presentable clothes and his designated towel and went into the bathroom. Now, for those who don’t really understand depression, this may seem gross. But for a moment, Tadashi just leaned on the door and took a tired breath. Just the thought of exerting roughly 600 muscles to step into a shower, turn on the water, and scrub his entire body for roughly fifteen minutes just to scrub off bodily-secreted toxins made him feel really fucking exhausted. But he did it in the same way he did it when he wasn’t going through a depressive episode. Warm water for skin and cold water for hair. He remembered how appalled you were at seeing him just step into lukewarm water to shower and laughed when he hissed at how hot your average water temperature was.

He missed his girlfriend so much.

Tadashi just let the water run over his head without doing anything at all for like 2 minutes.

“This is so depressing.” He muttered to himself.

Some may think, ‘Dude just take a shower and quit being gross. You’re too old for this shit’ and the truth is, he’s thinking the exact same thing. So he reached for his green tea hair wash and instead of taking a normal shower, he took an everything one. It was tiring and he felt like toppling over and just rotting on the cold porcelain of the shower floor every second he was in there. But by the end at least he felt clean and smelled like classic male body wash.

Meanwhile, the time you were supposed to arrive was getting closer. Hiro was watching the clock profusely as he looked at his aunt who was just watching the Food Network and petting Mochi in her lap.

“Can we go to the mall?” He improvised.

“The mall? For what?” She looked back at him.

Shit. He needed to say something that would actually urge her to take him. “I want to look at new shoes!”

It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Hiro had been wearing the same shoes for years and the soles were detaching from the actual shoe part. The old laces were so messed up he was using the laces from a pair that didn’t fit Tadashi anymore. Why did he have to be one of the only teenage boys not obsessed with shoes?

So when he asked to look at new shoes to get, she jumped at the chance. Screaming at the top of the stairs that she was taking Hiro to the store while Tadashi finished showering.

Once they left, a feeling of satisfaction filled Hiro’s chest as he saw your car stop at the red light closest to the cafe. They drove off and you got closer to the cafe. Usually when someone texts you ‘Hey can we talk’ they’re usually about to drop an absolute bomb on them. Was he planning on breaking up with you? Shit. Maybe you could give him as many reasons you could think of and he’d change his mind? Or maybe he didn’t want to break up at all. Maybe he just wanted to see you in person. Regardless of the reason you were sweating bullets.

You walked over to the garage and started knocking on the door for him to open. You could hear him rushing towards the side door.

“What did you forget-” He opened the door expecting to see Hiro. Instead there you were with a look of concern and slight discomfort on your face. He stared at you as little droplets of water from his hair dribbled down his neck and soaked into his shirt. “H-Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Umm, you texted me.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Tadashi reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Had the days blended together so badly that he couldn’t even remember making plans to meet up with you? When he opened his messages with you, he knew exactly what happened. He didn’t text like that but you know who did? Hiro.

“Fucking Hiro.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“That makes more sense.” You let out a breathy laugh. “S-so do you like want me to go home, orrrr?”

Tadashi yelped a little too loudly, “No!- um, no. I don’t want you to leave, unless you want to go home.”

“No I’ll stay.”

Tadashi invited you inside and sat down at the kitchen island to just sit, silently thanking divine intervention for him taking a shower before you got there . A few beats and declined beverage offers later he spoke up. “So how are you?”

“Okay,” You nearly slapped your hand over your forehead. The two of you could not live like this anymore. “Tadashi, what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” He froze.

“Just we aren’t on the same page. And that’s not us, we’re always on the same page. It’s like we’re strangers to each other. I don’t want to feel like a stranger to my boyfriend.”

Tadashi immediately went into panic mode and started reassuring you. “You’re not a stranger to me and I’m so sorry I’m making you feel that way I just-”

He stopped. You knew about his winter bouts of depression but you didn’t know the extent of how often they could happen. Nobody did. Tadashi wasn’t one to burden people and if he thought he could handle it he wouldn’t bother ask for help. He never asked for help doing projects, never asked for a ride to school, never asked Aunt Cass to turn in a library book for him. He probably should have told you about his new episode, you’d understand he knows you would and thinking about it he can’t really come up with a good reason for not telling you. Because the phrase “I just didn’t want to bother you” is horseshit no matter how true it is.

Your voice got softer as you leaned forward and touched your hand to his. “What’s wrong.”

“It’s back,” He whispered so quietly you could barely hear him. “Since our fight it’s been back and it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t need to say what “it” was. If it was seasonal depression he would call it that but it wasn’t. It was the kind of thing he got whenever his parents death anniverys came or when he just woke up randomly and couldn’t even muster up enough every to roll out of bed and onto the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cooed at him gently.

I just didn’t want to bother you. But he didn’t say that out loud, instead he just shrugged his shoulders and felt his eyes start to sting with tears. “I-I’m sorry.”

You were going to cry. You leaned forward and gave him a hug, his head resting in the nook of your neck. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Are you doing okay?”

He answered honestly. “Not really, but I’m feeling better.”

You two sat there engluphed together in silence as he listened to your pulse and you ran your fingertips up and down his spine.

Oh my good looking boy.

“Oh no, you know what I just realized.” You said still holding him close to you.

He muttered into your skin, “What?”

“We just had a communication fight.”

Fuck, you’d never had one of those before. Sure you’d get into arguments but you’d never had a problem because of a lack of communication until now. Even though you swore you would never be one of those couples. Shit just happens.

Maybe it was because he thought it was funny, or because you were the one to say it, or it was both but Tadashi started laughing. Truly laughing for the first time in weeks. His back heaved up and down as he laughed until he lifted his head from your neck and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, so much.” He whispered, loud enough just for you. Only for you.

You ran your thumbs over the skin on his face. “I love you too, okay? Always will, remember that.”

You’ll fight again eventually over whatever. But something had changed since then. Whatever it was you doubted that you would ever run into a communication problem again.

Hours later when Hiro and Aunt Cass came home they found you and Tadashi laying on the floor next to piles of folded clothes. You’d been working to help him clean his side of the room, and a three part murder mystery playing in the background.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #napakmahal #writers block #update #normal girl #sza #good looking #suki waterhouse

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

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I'm about to bleach and dye my hair for the millionth time and it got me thinking.

How about a fanfic of either one of the moon boys coming home and just seeing his s/o in the bathroom just casually dying their hair some bright color and just like "Hi! :D"

Ahhh, I love this! I dye my hair at home a lot (bright colours) and I always get it on myself.

Vivid

Marc Spector X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: mentions of reader getting hair dye on themselves (this could imply that the reader's hair is not short, however I find that when dyeing my hair the main problem comes from me touching everything with my gloves that has hair dye on them. But I just wanted to put that here just in case.) sleepy Marc, typos, rail road sentences Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 468

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Marc was shattered. Really to collapse into sleep at any given moment. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tired. Every step was heavy as if his bones had turned to lead, aching and straining at his muscle with even the smallest movement.

Even the dirty London pavement, with its litter and grime and old chewing gum, seemed a lot more comfortable than staying upright anymore.

Honestly, he was surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the tube, or the bus, or just walking back to the flat. Or the lift, or while putting his keys in the front door.

He sighed as he got in, just managing to remember to not leave the keys in the lock, and fumbled to get his shoes off. He nearly fell over, twice.

The plan had been to collapse in bed (or on the sofa, as that was closer) but a faint smell of ammonia hit him the second he had taken two steps inside.

Marc frowned. “Babe?”

“In here!” You called from the bathroom.

He padded across the room, his feet thumping across the floorboards. He pushed the door open gently.

You turned to look at him and grinned.

In the best possible way, you were a state and you knew it. Dyeing your hair was always a bit of a saga, and no matter how hard you tried you always managed to get bleach or the bright coloured dye on your top, so you had forgone it, leaving you completely naked from the waist up.

Despite your gloves, a small tear on the left hand meant that most of your palm and fingers were stained. Luckily only with the colourful vegetable dye you had just finished applying.

You also had some dye around the back of your neck and a swiped smudge on your collar bone.

“Hi!” You said happily, pulling a purposefully silly face.

Marc grinned and laughed softly. “You look colourful.”

“Thank you.” You held out your arms in a variety of comedic positions and poses and he chuckled again. There was never a better sound than Marc laughing but knowing that you had caused that happiness was simply the greatest feeling.

“You look great.” He moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

You giggle as he nuzzles close. “Careful, I’ll get dye on you.”

“I just dyed in your arms today.” Marc sank sleepily and purposefully terribly to the tune of ‘Died in your Arms’.

You laugh again, the action sending little shaking through his body that was wonderfully soothing. He could fall asleep here, standing up but safe with you.

“I don’t mind,” he motioned his hand vaguely in the air. “About the dye, getting it on me. Whatever.” He kissed your neck and closed his eyes.

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Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#marc spector #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector x reader #x reader #marc spector x you #x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #marc spector x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year

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I just wanted to highlight this beautiful artwork that my good friend, Chis a.k.a. @whosthewhatnow created for me.

This drawing was inspired by this post about my dad and his animal magnetism.

If you don't recall, I said...

"I’ve always said I don’t believe in heaven but I do believe in dog heaven.

It is my hope FrogDad gets special permission to go there and hang with Otis, MacGyver, Reggie, and Buttons."

I also mentioned this in my eulogy...

I said that we had pet newts as children. However, when I went to look up pet newts, none of them looked like what we had. In fact, I couldn't find any lizards that looked like what we had. Perhaps they were some kind of lizard that was a popular pet in the 80s but fell out of favor with pet stores.

In any case, the mystery lizards are sneaking into Doggie Heaven.

And, of course, there is my dad's famous John Deere riding mower that he used to take Otis on countless walks.

And Chris included all of the beloved doggos of my childhood.

My first was a Welsh Corgi named Buttons.

She would walk me more than I walked her...

Then we adopted a Cairn Terrier named Reggie.

Reggie was found at an illegal breeding facility and rescued. He was kept in a cage nearly all of his life and it pained him to walk on hard surfaces for several months until his paws healed. We suspect he was abused by a large male, because he was terrified of my dad when we brought him home. He would run under the bed anytime my dad entered the room. This was probably the ultimate test of my dad's dog whispering powers. He slowly and patiently worked with Reggie, devising all kinds of creative trust exercises. He would lay on the floor with his belly exposed and start crying and acting sad. Trying to show Reggie he was harmless and pathetic and nothing to fear. And every time Reggie got close, my dad would bribe him with cheese.

And just like every other dog we've had, my dad won Reggie over and they became best friends. They were constant cuddle buddies.

No other large male could ever get close to Reggie. My dad ended up being the only one he would ever trust.

We felt Reggie could use a companion to help cure his trauma and depression and maybe help him socialize a little better.

So... we got a puppy!

My first ever experience with a puppy. He was a West Highland White Terrier--commonly referred to as a "Westie."

We wanted a name that paid respect to his Scottish heritage and we loved this popular show on the boob tube in which a man fixed things with chewing gum and a paperclip.

So I suggested we name him after that favorite TV hero...

Angus MacGyver!

Or "Mac" for short.

MacGyver was a bit like Otis 1.0. He was a tiny ball of energy. He loved to play. He was mischievous, but always cute about it, so he rarely got in trouble. Though he was not nearly as smart as Otis. If dogs could take IQ tests, Otis would have tested as a genius. I am embarrassed to admit how often I was outwitted by a hairy loaf with legs.

But MacGyver was just a normie. Not dumb. Not a genius.

Reggie didn't know what to do with a puppy at first. But once Mac grew up a little and calmed down a lot, they did end up being proper pupper pals.

Doggo dudes.

Canine cohorts.

Scottish scalawags.

Reggie mostly just sat at a distance as MacGyver did dumb things. Mac would get into trouble and when we caught him, Reggie would just stare at us like, "I was an impartial observer. I had no part in these shenanigans."

And last, but certainly not least... I think you all remember this troublemaker.

My dad was all cuddles and play time.

But my mom and Otis had a very special relationship as well. Otis would "help" my mom with her chores. They'd go from room to room and my mom would do her cleaning and dusting and vacuuming. And Otis would disrupt all of it--to her delight. She liked to talk to him like he was an adult human. She swore he could understand her. They'd just gab and clean.

Their antics doing chores together inspired one of my favorite Corg Life comics that Chris also drew.

So, thank you to Chris for always creating such beautiful things for me.

If you need any artwork, I highly recommend hiring him. He even does watercolor paintings.

Chris Gugliotti [ Facebook | Instagram | Tumblr ]

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cecilebutcher · 1 year

Text

ღMelanie Martinez songs I associate with twst boysღ

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: every twst student + some of my oc’s

!!!Trigger warning⚠️: some songs contain very heavy subjects. You’ve been warned!!!

Riddle Rosehearts: dollhouse

“Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains. Picture, picture, smile for the picture. Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister? Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains”

Trey clover: LIGHT SHOWER

“I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes. I never once was treated right, you're what I'm missing in my life. As bright as the sun, give me your vitamin D. Let's run into another dimension. You make me feel like I'm on drugs. I'm screamin' like a kettle on a stove. You crank the heat up, I was cold. My past grew mold around my heart. And all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. It's madness, I'm not used to all this water, love, it's true”

Cater Diamond: VOID

“Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow. I hate who I was before. I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow. Someone tell me if this is Hell. I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah. Tryna turn off the voices, the void ate me. Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah. Holdin' a loaded gun, the void”

Ace Trappola: Lunchbox friends

“The hassle, the fighting, they all want a bite of me. Photos, more photos. Then gossip 'bout hoes that they don't know. Oh, they talk shit though. I don't want no lunchbox friends, no. I want someone who understands, oh, oh, no. Come to my house, let's die together. Friendship that would last forever, no. No lunchbox friends, no, oh, no. No lunchbox friends. Come to my house, let's die together. Friendship that would last forever, no”

Deuce Spade: Detention

“I'm physically exhausted. Tired of my knuckles beating. I'm chewing gum to pass this time of sadness. Can't you see it? You're too busy seeking selfish wishes. Don't care how I'm feeling. You write me up and say it's love. And I can't believe it. Baby, can you meet me tonight in detention? I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension. Let me crawl up into your mind, did I mention? Pretending everything's alright is detention”

Leona Kingscholar: Cake

“If I am just a piece of cake. I am just a piece of cake (cake) Then you're just a piece of meat. You're just a piece of meat to me. If I am just a piece of cake. I am just a piece of cake (cake). Then you're just a piece of meat. You're just a piece of meat to me. I'm not a piece of cake. For you to just discard. While you walk away. With the frosting of my heart. So I'm taking back. What's mine, you'll miss. The slice of heaven that I gave to you last night”

Ruggie Bucchi: Recess

“People gonna say. "If you need a break, someone'll take your place". People gonna try. To tell you that you're fine with dollars in their eyes (just remember) Don't let them, honey, no, oh. Don't let them try (ooh). Don't let them hurt you. Baby, just say, "Recess, I'm tired"”

Jack Howl: Pacify her

“Pacify her. She's getting on my nerves. You don't love her. Stop lying with those words. I can't stand her whining. Where's her binky now? And loving her seems tiring. So boy, just love me, down, down, down. Someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours. But was he yours, if he wanted me so bad?”

Azul Ashengrotto: Alphabet boy

“Apples aren't an always appropriate apologies. Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me. You call me a child while you keep counting all your coins. But you're not my daddy and I'm not your dolly. And your dictionary's destroyed. I know my ABC's, yet you keep teaching me. I say, fuck your degree, alphabet boy. You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry. Fuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy”

Jade Leech: LEECHES

“Slimy and superficial. Straining their artificial. Yapping to seem official. Making it beneficial to their cause. How much blood can you draw. With your claws from a flesh that's not yours? My hands aren't yours, and. Gnaw on my bones, no marrow left. To keep you enthralled. I guess that is the luck of the draw”

Floyd Leech: Class fight

“Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody. We were in the playground, things were getting muddy. The teacher broke us up after I broke her. And my one true love called me a monster. Mommy, why do I feel sad? Should I give him away or feel this bad? “No, no, no, don't you choke". Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat". For the throat, for, for the throat. Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat". For the throat, for, for the throat. Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat"”

Kalim Al-Asim: Fire Drill

“I am not the government. I am not the fucked up men. I am not a part of anything that is hateful. Love is seeping out my pores, I don't hold anger anymore. Even for people who hurt and betray me (Okay) I am not the government. I am not the fucked up men (Gross) I am not a part of anything that is hateful. Love is seeping out my pores, I don't hold anger anymore. Even for people who hurt and betray me”

Jamil Viper: milk & cookies

“One, two, melatonin is coming for you. Three, four, baby, won't you lock the door?Five, six, I'm done with this. Seven, eight, it's getting late, so close your eyes, sleep for days. Hush, little baby, drink your spoiled milk. I'm fucking crazy, need my prescription filled. Do you like my cookies? They're made just for you. A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too”

Vil Shoenheit: Show & tell

“Why is it so hard to see? (Why?) If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me) I'm just like you, you're like me. Imperfect and human, are we? Show and tell. I'm on display for all you fuckers to see. Show and tell. Harsh words if you don't get a pic with me. Buy and sell (buy and sell me, baby). Like I'm a product to society. Art don't sell. Unless you fucked every authority”

Rook Hunt: training wheels

“Letting go, letting go. Telling you things you already know. I explode, I explode. Asking you where you want us to go. You've been riding two wheelers all your life. It's not like I'm asking to be your wife. I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say. Is this coming off in a cheesy way? I love everything you do. When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do. Wanna ride my bike with you. Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you. And I'll pull them off for you”

Epel Felmier: Drama club

“I don't wanna be an actress, living by a script. Who cares about practising? I don't give a shit. You're overanalyzing every word I say. There's a whole world out there, you're living a play. Fuck your auditorium, I think it's pretty boring and. I never signed up for your drama. Up for your drama, up for your drama club. I never signed up for your drama. Up for your drama club (ooh). I never signed up for your drama club (ooh). For your drama club”

Idia Shroud: Wheels on the bus

“No one's watching us, don't give a fuck. Wheels on the bus. I'm holding it down, up in the front. Wheels on the bus. Ooh, ooh, ooh. Wheels on the bus. Now, I'ma light it up and pass it. Puff puff and pass it. Don't be a dick and babysit, c'mon, just pass it over here. Counting cars as they pass me by. And I'm trying not to look a row behind me. 'Cause Jason's got his ass on the glass. And I hate him, driver hit a bump fast”

Ortho Shroud: Death

“Back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the- (I'm back)”

Malleus Draconia: Pity Party

“Maybe if I knew all of them well. I wouldn't have been trapped inside this hell that holds me. Maybe if I casted out a spell. Or told them decorations were in pastel ribbons. Maybe it's a cruel joke on me. Whatever, whatever. Just means there's way more cake for me. Forever, forever”

Lilia Vanrouge: test me

“Hey God, I'll be the jester. Entertain ya to the best of my ability. When I suffer more, fragility, when I answer. Came here for a reason, oh-oh. So stop complaining, all have our seasons, oh-oh. It's not just a joke or a lesson to live through. Every which way in second, there's a breakthrough”

Silver (Vanrouge): FAERIE SOIRÉE

“Lips of sugar, I'm breathing the pheromones again. Ooh-ah, ooh-ah (ah). Hands are tied and Miranda Rights don't mean nothing. Led me astray to the faerie soirée. Alone, alone. Now I wanna ride with the magic. Lose sight of the gravity of home. Blue stars running on my forehead. Cold wings fluttering and moving. Mushrooms everywhere I'm turning. Laced with love, intensive grooving”

Sebek Zigvolt: play date

“We're just playing hide and seek. It's getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you. I don't want to play no games. I'm tired of always chasing, chasing after you. I don't give a fuck about you anyways. Whoever said I gave a shit 'bout you? You never share your toys or communicate. I guess I'm just a play date to you”

“Oc’s”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: Spider Web

“Better off dead than stuck in a maze. The center may seem like a gift. Once you arrive, it'll strip you of your life. And you'll wish that you never did. Spinning all your silk and moving all of your eight legs. To build a web that'll spread through the world. Feeding off our highs and lows. And curious to see us struggle. No one can leave once they merge”

Tao Yúchi: gingerbread man

“I need a gingerbread man. The one I'll feed. A gingerbread man. The one I'll eat. One who's always crazy. Never calls me baby. That's the one that I want. All you boys are not him, not him. Can't you see? I only want the ones who never see me. But I'm happy. I love playing these games until my heart bleeds. It bleeds jelly. 'Cause you don't want someone to eat your cookie. Can someone please. Find him for me, find him for me?”

Igor Kazentoc: THE CONTORTIONIST

“I don't wanna bruise for you. Holding back my words until my face is blue. I don't really care about your crew. You can tell 'em what you wanted to. Bones are crushing, bones are crushing (pushin' me) Bodies touching, bodies touching (lovin' me) Blood is pumping, blood is pumping (pullin' me). Feeling nothing, feeling nothing (fuckin' me) Bones are crushing, bones are crushing (crushin' me) Bodies touching, bodies touching (touchin' me) Ooh-ah”

Junto Shuisha: mrs. Potato head

“Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me. Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better? Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me. How did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever. Even if her face don't stay together. Even if her face don't stay together”

Jasper Spade: The bakery

“My boss is mother Mary. Catch me slippin' through the concrete. Show no mercy, step right on me. Stiletto death, send me to purgatory. The bakery, tryna make some more. They expect me to stay when I should go. Grab the bag for when they cross the door. It ain't for me to roll it out. It's just for me to raise the dough”

Najih Al-Amin: teachers pet

“Teacher's pet. If I'm so special, why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that? Do you regret. The things we shared that I'll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that. I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years. I knew this wouldn't last, but fuck you, don't you leave me here. Teacher's pet. If I'm so special, why am I secret?”

Aikat Spanos: Mad Hatter

“Where is my prescription? Doctor, doctor, please listen. My brain is scattered. You can be Alice, I'll be the Mad Hatter. I'm peeling the skin off my face. 'Cause I really hate being safe. The normals, they make me afraid. The crazies, they make me feel sane”

Phobes Spanos: Carousel

“And it's all fun and games. 'Til somebody falls in love. But you already bought a ticket. And there's no turning back now. Round and round like a horse on a carousel, we go. Will I catch up to love? I can never tell, I know. Chasing after you is like a fairytale, but I. Feel like I'm glued on tight to this carousel”

Ya’ll have no idea how much I love Melanie<3

!!Requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

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legobiwan · 4 months

Note

Mario and Luigi for the drabble, “When I’m with you, I’m home.”

Thanks!

I realized I'm answering this one out of order. Whoops! Anyway, have some pre-Mushroom Kingdom conversations and lore-building as your author reminisces about the New York of the '90s.

~~~~~~

He wonders, sometimes, what their lives would have looked like if they had never left Brooklyn.

Barring a miracle - pretty bleak, in all honesty. Maybe being here, in the Mushroom Kingdom, was the miracle. He remembers the frenzied few days leading up to their disappearance. The previous few months had been a mess of unpaid bills and awful business decisions governed solely by spite and fear. They were probably a few months of missed rent payments away from eviction. They were definitely two days away from getting their kneecaps bashed in by some loan shark’s goons.

He and Mario had gone for a walk, all the way down to Coney Island, 75th to Stillwell to Bowery, to the decrepit-looking Wonder Wheel and a depressingly empty Nathan’s Hot Dogs. It looked like the last of the hotels, some once-bright vestige of his mother’s era, had finally been condemned, tall wire fencing curling up towards the grey winter sky, a perfunctory guard which did nothing to keep out the local graffiti artists and homeless population.

Luigi jammed his hands into his jean pockets, shivering. He couldn’t tell if he was freezing or terrified.

“What are we gonna do, Mario? We can’t stay here. If he doesn’t get us, the landlord will. You see how they’re starting to develop all that stuff around 86th Street. It’s going to travel north and we’re already behind two months in rent. We can’t stay in Bensonhurst.” Luigi sighed, little frozen puffs of air floating from his mouth. “I don’t even know if we can stay in Brooklyn at this rate.”

It was a miracle they weren’t out on the streets already. For once, their landlord’s habit of sitting around with a bottle of Thunderbird watching Honeymooners reruns and screaming at “that bum El Duque” to throw more strikes fell to their advantage. Sure, there was no such thing as maintenance in the dilapidated six-floor walk-up. But they were plumbers, tradesmen - a leaky faucet or misbehaving shower wasn’t going to be an issue.

Unfortunately, they weren’t also exterminators.

Mario took a large bite of his hotdog, mustard splattering on the gum-stained sidewalk. It looked like something they’d hang in one of those trendy galleries that kept popping up in lower Manhattan, down around Houston Street.

“We’re gonna be fine, Lou,” Mario said between bites, bits of bun falling from his mouth.

“We’re gonna end up homeless.” Or missing our kneecaps. Or worse.

Mario crammed the last of his dinner in his mouth, finishing off the hot dog with a few loud chews. He gave a contented sigh, licking at his greasy fingers before wiping his hands on his pants. “No, we’re not gonna be homeless. I’ve told you a million times, Lou, we could be in a cardboard box under the Van Wyck. When we’re together - “ Mario slung an arm around Luigi’s shoulder, pulling him in tight. “When I’m with you - I’m home. We’re unbeatable. And that means we’ll make it through this.”

Luigi eyed his brother’s yellow-tinged fingers and stained shirt cuff, hoping the impromptu moment of fraternal affection would pass. He could deal with Mario’s sunny optimism, usually. But living in a studio apartment one step up from a garbage dump had apparently encouraged his brother’s disposition towards a more slovenly existence. They might be home when they were together, but it wouldn’t hurt if Mario took a damn vacuum to himself once in a while.

“Mario, I think this time - ”

“Oh, I get it.” The warm arm around his shoulder disappeared, his brother’s voice hardening. Luigi snapped his head to the side, his heart rocketing into his throat. What did I say this time?

“It’s the location, isn’t it?” His brother gave him a searching, serious look. He looks just like Dad. He even seemed as if he were towering over Luigi, just like Dad used to, despite Mario being the shortest of the three of them. “You’d prefer a box under the BQE.”

Luigi gaped. “I - what?”

“Nah, nah, okay,” Mario waved his hands. “Let’s talk location. You wanna be by the Belt? Or maybe - “ A sly smile grew under his brother’s burgeoning mustache. “You want to move to Queens.”

“Oh my God,” Luigi groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm, pulling his hand down over his eyes. I’d move to Jersey if it got us out of this mess. “Mario, be serious.”

“I am serious! Your secret’s safe with me, bro. Even if you would betray Brooklyn like that." Luigi felt two steady hands take him by the biceps. “Besides, we’re gonna be okay.”

“Vinny Razzanti’s uncle said we had forty-eight hours,” Luigi groaned between his fingers.

Mario barked out a laugh. “Vinny Razzanti’s uncle couldn’t tell a pizza from a clock if we arranged the pepperonis the right way. The guy’s a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but he’s - “

“No, I ain’t hearing it.” Mario gently guided Luigi’s hands from his face, keeping his fingers wrapped around either wrist as he brought Luigi’s arms to his sides. “Look at me, Lou.”

Luigi swallowed down the wet desperation clawing its way up his throat, opening his eyes to his brother’s concerned, but steely gaze.

“If he comes, he comes. I’ve got a baseball bat next to the mattress and you can - “ Mario waved one of his arms in a broad gesture. “I dunno. Make some kind of exploding gadget or something. You used to want to show off your stuff to Cooper Union, right? Well, think of this as practice, you know, for the application.”

Luigi gave a small shake of his head. I don’t think home pyrotechnics meant to fend off low-level mafia muscle are going to impress the admissions committee. Not that they were going to waste their time with a twenty-one-year-old plumber’s application, anyway. That dream was long gone, buried in Cypress Hills along with their parents.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Mario’s voice broke through his dreary ruminations as he guided Luigi towards Bowery Street. “We’re gonna walk home, maybe pick up a cannoli on the way. Then we’re gonna check the answering machine. If we’re lucky - and I’m feeling pretty lucky right now - there will be a call from some lady in Borough Park.” His brother’s eyes gleamed. “No, even better, some widower in Carroll Gardens. One of those nice brownstones. She’s going to ask for our help. Clogged drains, backed up shower, toilet’s kablooey.” Mario made a slobbering sound meant to resemble a backed up toilet. Luigi thought he sounded like a dog on downers. “The whole shebang. We’ll say, of course, we can fix this, but we’ll have to charge the emergency rate. You know, business and all that. Three hours later - maybe four - boom! Vinny Razzanti’s uncle is out of the picture and we’ll be on our way to the good life.”

“You make it sound so simple, bro.” Luigi couldn’t quite contain the bite of sarcasm that accompanied that statement.

As always, his brother took his waspishness in stride. Long strides, in fact, as they hurried past the metal skeletons that made up the Coney Island Train Yard, the whirr of traffic from the Belt Parkway rushing and thumping above them. Luigi felt like at any moment some old, rusted buckle would give way, sending a line of cabs and buses crashing into their heads.

He felt like that most of the time these days, to be honest.

“It is simple, Luigi. You just gotta think positive. You never know what’s around the corner.” Mario tugged at his sleeve. “Now, come on. If we walk fast enough, we can get to Villbate’s before they close.”

“Alright, alright, you win, Mario. Something’s around the corner and for once, maybe it won’t be a guy with a baseball bat.” No. It won’t be a bat. It’ll be something worse. Like a flamethrower. Luigi was too tired to argue with his brother’s indomitable optimism. “Maybe we’ll get to your widower in Carroll Gardens and find the answers in her bathroom.”

Mario slapped his brother on the back. “That’s the spirit, Lou! Could be a whole new world waiting for us. Now let’s go - there’s a pistachio cannoli with my name on it and I am not missing out.”

“Hey, the pistachio cannolis are mine!”

“Not if you don’t run fast enough!” Mario gave his brother a playful push, taking off down Stillwell Avenue. Luigi watched his brother leap over a pile of trash bags, skittering between two cabs, one of which blared its horn in anger.

“Where you go, I guess I follow,” Luigi muttered to himself, adjusting his cap before taking off in his brother’s direction. And who knew? Maybe something was waiting for them around that corner.

#hello there #writing #the eternal struggle #luigi #mario #pre canon #this daily writing thing is SO GOOD FOR ME #thanks everyone for your submissions i'm going to try and crank out one a day!#yes i insult jersey exactly once here #i'm allowed i'm a native hahahahahha #i should add this is not movie-verse compliant #i have a whole... backstory in my head about their brooklyn days

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givethemsmut · 4 months

Text

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Fifteen | Where It All Started…

Dominik’s suspension had flown by. We spent half of it avoiding each other and the other half in bed. Somehow we resolved everything without resolving anything and I could be okay with that. We both made mistakes. If we could just stop sabotaging things we would be fine.

WWE didn’t stop calling or texting Dom. I wanted to be with him so badly I didn’t care what that looked like, if it meant I was involved or used as a pawn.

“Can we talk about it?” Dom was picking up shoes and doing some mini interview downtown that I tagged along to.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We aren’t using our personal lives as viewer bait.” He scuffed while snatching another pair of Nikes.

“But you can pretend to be other people’s boyfriends as viewer bait?” I retorted with my voice a little too loud when I realized people glanced over at me. Trailing behind him closely I whispered, “I want an excuse to go with you.”

“So I don’t fuck up again?” Twisting into me he purposely got so close it hurt just to breeze by me.

Still following his lead, “No, because I’m tired of being apart. I’m tired of hurting each other in general. I’m not going for a story line - you know I have zero interest in that shit. I did the living alone in our new house, missing you and masterbating to death thing. It’s old.”

Crowding me at the mere crude words, Dominik stepped into me until my back was against a poorly placed mirror. “Shhh. No one needs to know that. You can come but if I know my bosses they’re gonna hound us until we say yes. They want this storyline and you being on the road with me is a tease. They’ll never let it go.”

“Why are you so against it? What do they want from us?” I asked him, unsure of why he was so angry over nothing.

Looking down at me, I could feel his tense body against mine. I wasn’t showing yet but all of me felt more filled out. His fist pressed against the mirror as he leaned further in. “You would be with Randy. By his side. The whole point is to break Rhea and I up.”

“Can’t hide behind her forever, right?” I said it and regretted it. They were close beyond work partners, they were best friends and nothing would change that. Not my jealous or snarky attitude.

I had triggered him entirely when his mouth tightened and his eyes rested down into slants. “I’m not hiding. I’m protecting you. I’m not watching the replay of his hands on you.”

His words felt like gasoline to the fire my body felt. My entire body ached for him. “We can make the rules. It doesn’t have to be how they want. I just want to be there when you come to bed.”

“Don’t you remember how much you hated it last time?” He scolded, leaving me there to sulk while he cashed out.

Gaining composure I followed him, “We were kids. I didn’t hate it…”

Dom’s mouth was wide and his eyes matched. All of him trying not to laugh as he chewed his gum. “All day training, endless meetings, shows at night, and exhausted afterwards. When I got back to the bus every night I could tell how much you hated it.”

“It was like being at your parents but worse. We shared a bed, Dom, but we weren’t having sex. There was zero privacy with your dad there and because I was with you two I had all eyes on me. I was afraid to even be myself.” Taking the bags we left the store behind and headed for his car.

Opening the door for me I slipped inside when he leaned down, his face mere inches from mine, “Selective memory, huh? That tiny ass shower, walking in on each other. We had some privacy.”

“It’s not just that, Dom. I was a ghost and no one expected any different. I was invisible all day until you dragged yourself to bed where we’d fool around but nothing else because your dad was on the same bus. I didn’t want to be reduced to some shitty orgasms, I wanted to be someone you shared your world with.”

The car ride back home was silent and I forced myself to look out the windows. I spent three weeks on the road with Dom and his dad before Dom was even signed with WWE. He was still training but they used him for storylines and Dom got to keep his dad company.

It was torture. I spent my days bored, my nights unbearable without touching Dom, and everything in-between had his dad close by. Enough to behave.

I didn’t want to repeat that, I just wanted to be close by Dom while I was pregnant.

“That’s bullshit. I was busy but you weren’t reduced to a fucking orgasm. We had plenty of firsts on the bus. Plenty… When you came on the road that was the first time we got drunk and fucked..” Behind the wheel, his hand found my inner thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“That was not the first time we got drunk…” my knees fell in his direction and I felt him hand only slid further up my thigh.

His cheeky smile couldn’t have had a better effect when he flashed his pearly whites at me. “No, but it was first time we fucked drunk, babe.”

[ flashback ]

Everyday felt like groundhogs day. Only I became more invisible as time went on.

From the moment we woke up Dom would train, rehearse, do media, have meetings, and do a show. I would be left to my own devices, making friends with the crew or exploring outside the venue until I got restless.

Every night Dom would crawl into the bed we shared, expecting me to want him when nothing had changed. I was still sabotaging every reason or feeling pointing to him. I still kept telling him we couldn’t and he would get frustrated enough to hate me each night I said no.

It wasn’t until I was venturing the venue I realized my backstage pass eliminated anyone asking me for ID when I added an alcoholic beverage to my order of fries. Dom and I were twenty, close of enough and had gotten drunk plenty of times while his parents were gone. Something felt especially dangerous about being invisible and drunk.

Not realizing how quickly I was slurping these drinks down I headed back to the dressing rooms, trying to find Dom before I missed bus call. Pushing the door open I saw a few wrestlers spread out and Dom getting undressed himself. “How did it go?” I said while sitting down on the bench behind him.

Looking around he almost panicked, “You can’t be in here. What are you doing?”

Granted it was the guys locker room but we were all adults. They all knew I was here for Dom. Standing up I felt my legs doing what they were suppose to but the floor kept moving, like an earthquake. “Okay, I’ll just go to the bus.”

His hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back to his locked. Crowding me, almost hiding me, his low voice whispered, “Are you drunk?”

Laughing I responded, “Not yet.”

His hand smoothed down my back, stabilizing me, and cupping my ass like he knew I couldn’t stop. “Let’s get drunk and fuck… I have nothing tomorrow. No work. I miss you. I crawl into bed and miss you when you’re right here. I need you.”

His face was so close to mine I could feel his hot breath tickle my lips. Everything around us seemed to disappear and I didn’t care who was around to witness our tug of war of a relationship.

“We share a bus with your dad…” I whispered so lightly it felt like a mistake as the words came out.

Dom’s lips brushed mine, pinning against his locker, and his hands trialing up my body. His hands stopped once he got to my breasts, hesitant, suddenly unfamiliar. We had been living in Miami on our own but we had given up teasing each other the way we did in high school.

“I don’t care who sees or hears. I fucking need you. Every night for the past month I’ve been begging you to let me touch you… every night you say no. Sharing a bed with you in torture. I can feel you against me every night in barely fucking anything.” His voice shook, his hands shook, and his eyes begged me to understand. Dom was hurting for it and I was reason.

“It’s that bad?” I asked knowing the answer. My nipples responded the exact way he wanted when his hand squeezed my tits.

“It’s you or someone else, mi amore.” He said sternly, clearly tired of our games.

My hands against his chest, I pushed him away, “Or someone else? Are you serious?”

“I’m not jacking off again. I fucking can’t. I need pussy. There’s a local bar, we’re all going to blow off steam and almost everyone is off tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the bus in half hour. I gotta shower.”

I could feel the buzz wearing off when I left the locker room only to bump into Randy. “Shit. You scared me.”

Smiling down at me from his staggering height and insane muscles he stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You going to the bar?”

“If Dom does.”

“That’s your problem, you do everything for Dom. Is he doing enough for you?” Randy only paused for a second before heading into the locker room, not waiting for a response.

I went back to the bus, riffling through my suitcase to find a little black mini dress and some cute heels to wear. I could see Dom heading towards me in his off white shirt, black joggers and Vans looking sexier than I was prepared for.

“Mi amore. You ain’t gonna take it easy on me at all.” Opening the bus door he pushed his back inside and put his arm around my shoulders before guiding us to some rental car. Slipping inside the back, someone else was driving, someone I didn’t know.

The bar was busy, almost crowded, and the music was the perfect mix of 2000s and 90s. Waiting for our drinks next to the bar, Dom pressed himself against me, his hand on my waistline. Whispering into the shelf of my ear, “Are you going to let me fuck you or am I looking for someone else?”

It was crude, stern and I could feel his muscles etch into stone while he asked. He was hurting and now of that changed that I didn’t want to date. I couldn’t have us fail and lose him so it was easier to reject him.

“Dom…”

“So you got all sexy for someone else? Cool. Don’t be mad later. Text me when you leave.” Grabbing his beer from behind me I wanted to explain but he didn’t give me the chance.

I don’t know when Randy walked in or how long he was standing behind me when I twisted around hoping it was Dom again. “You know-” I cut myself off realizing it wasn’t him at all. “Sorry, thought you were Dom.”

“For you? I could be.” His crotch brushed my ass making me stand up straighter. “Is that all it takes to get you into bed? You’re too beautiful for such low standards.”

“Real smooth. Sorry if I don’t faint or spread my legs. I’ve been dealing with guys like you since fourth grade when my boobs came in.” I shoot back down the rest of my mixed drink.

Even more pressed against my back, his head dropped, speaking into my neck after pushing my hair away. “I’m not Dom, babe. I’m not begging. If I want something I take it. Look around, sweetheart, he’s moved on and you’re the one sulking at the bar alone.”

Twisting around to face him I glanced around the bar to see Dom flirting with some blonde. She was laughing and touching his arms. “It’s complicated.”

“You want him but keep rejecting him. He wants you and keeps begging. Sounds pretty simple. Do you want my help or not?”

I shook my head up and down ignoring the wedding band on his finger.

“Order another drink. Relax. I’m gonna stand next to you like this and I’m gonna touch you, let me. He’s gonna notice and get jealous.” Randy’s hand smoothed down my ass, cupping and grabbing.

“Childs play. We tortured each other in high school with other people.” I sipped on my drink trying to imagine it was Dom instead.

“Are you wearing panties?” He asked and I looked at him wildly like whatever he was about to say crossed some invisible line. “Sit down. Let me take them off, I’m gonna put them in my pocket.”

I down my drink and the shots Randy order, facing Dom flirting with some random girl I didn’t know. She straddled his lap and Dom let her. He wasn’t even looking in my direction.

Pushing Randy aside I strutted over to him pissed off and drunk. “What are you doing. We sleep in the same bed every night and now you’re letting some slut violate your lap?”

Licking his lips he whispered to the petite blonde before saying loud enough to hear. “Let me handle this.” Following Dom to a quieter part of the bar he pinned me against the wall, his fists balled up and boxing me in.

“I told you. I need pussy. Don’t act like Randy wasn’t just touching your ass, Mami. Don’t act innocent.”

Pushing my hands against his chest, he didn’t move, smirking at me. “Fuck you.”

“Happily babe. I’d fuck that tight little pussy anytime,” his husky voice hit me harder than any amount of liquor.

“You know we can’t.” I begged, exhausted and drunk all over again. “You think it’s not hard for me? The texts, the photos, watching you wrestle every night? It’s torture but I can’t ruin our friendship.”

“Years of avoiding us. Years of telling me we can’t even when we fucking do. What’s the point? Liv wants me. I don’t have to beg.” Lingering before walking away I felt every part of me hate him. Dom was cruel without having to be cruel and tonight was different. He meant it.

I watched Dom get drunk and handsy with Liv until it was unbearable. I knew I had to play the same game.

I stood between Randy’s legs letting his hands defile me in way I only wanted Dom to. Kissing my neck I giggled at how much it tickled while I watched Liv slowly convince him to go home with her.

This time felt different. We weren’t hurting each other but actually being selfish. Dom had needs and he wasn’t going to argue with me about it.

Forced to watch from afar I decided maybe this was the time to actually move on, stop playing games, stop waiting for me to stop being scared.

Feeling tipsy board-line drunk I couldn’t drink another sip of liquor when I watched Liv’s hand trail down his abs.

I mumbled to myself before letting Randy’s hand smooth up my thigh until it felt wrong. Nothing about Randy felt right.

“Just ignore them. Let’s get out of here…” My eyes kept glancing at Dominik and Liv pawing at each other like they were in heat when I couldn’t find Dom without putting my head on a swivel.

Appearing like I had summoned him with his arms crossed and a devilish scold. “Can I speak to you in private?”

Pushing Randy’s hands off of me I stood up and followed Dom, excusing myself quietly. Dom’s eyes bore into me until I felt like whatever disappointed speech he was about to give wasn’t even necessary anymore. By the bathrooms, the only quiet and private spot I waited for his cruelty.

“Are you fucking serious? Randy? Maybe you two belong together after all, you run to him every time.” Dom’s voice was ice cold when it skated down my spine.

I was too shocked to say anything. I couldn’t argue, if it wasn’t Dom somehow Randy was there to pick up the broken pieces. It wasn’t on purpose, not by me at least. “Why did you stomp over here, Dom? You don’t have to beg her, remember?”

His body was so close to mine I felt my chest labor every new breath. His eyes looked me over and hie tongue swiped along his bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to do. You never had a hard time making me jealous. He’s not me, mi amore, he’s not gonna let wait for you to finally give it up.”

“Maybe I won’t make him,” I retorted.

I watched Dom’s hands ball up into fists and his mouth got tight. “You’re a fucking bitch. We’ve had sex, sweetheart, I know every fucking turn on because I gave them to you. I know when you’re about to come you close your eyes and bite your lip because we had to be quiet in my parent’s house. I know you like it from the back most because that’s how you fucked that toy when you wouldn’t fuck me. I know every scar you forgot how you got. I know every freckle. I know you’re ticklish on the inside of your right thigh, that you liked your nipples pinched not sucked, and you prefer my cock without a condom because it feels better. I fucking know you. We’ve had sex enough to know what we like. Why do you make this difficult?”

“Because I’ll hurt you eventually and I’ll lose you. I can’t lose you.” I pushed my hands against his chest, ready to run away again.

“Don’t make me do something I regret. Don’t make me fuck her because you won’t. I’m hurting, baby. I can’t sleep next you and not touch you anymore.” Dom voice shook and his eyes fell to the floor. Dom was really ever even hurt but the way his hands were shaking felt too real.

“I can feel your heart racing,” my palm laid even flatter. “Let’s go sit down, come with me.” I felt bad already but Dom was hurting in a way that was my fault without me realizing it. I should have found a new bed to sleep in, I should have had boundaries, anything to stop torturing him.

A dark corner of booths were vacant when I pushed Dom subtly to sit down. Climbing onto his lap I straddled him. “No one will see.”

His head rolled back and his knuckles swiped his nose. “Fuck. No, baby, I don’t want some quick fuck like you’re some rat. I wanna fucking touch you. I wanna see what’s under this dress. Fuck, I wanna taste you. You aren’t some cheap fuck.”

“Please, Dominik. You’re hurting, I’m gonna help.” Rolling my hips so lightly I tried to keep my breathing steady.

His eyes went wide and I watched him shift under me, creating space. “Wow. A pity fuck. I’m not drunk enough for that.” He exhaled a long drawn out breath before pushing me down beside him.

I felt defeated, stuck, trying to not ruin our friendship had became my sole focus and right now I hated it. I abandoned Randy, paid the bar tab and took an Uber back to the bus. Dom’s parents were big wine drinkers and his dad was fast asleep when I snagged the rest of his open bottle. Getting comfortable in our giant bed at the back of the bus I rewatched a show I had seen too many times to count.

Each glass of wine only made me more paranoid. I was checking socials, jumping at every sound, and praying he didn’t fuck her the way I knew he needed. The unmistakable sound of the bus door opened and closing forced me still, as still as I could be drunker than I was at the bar. Wine hit me more than any mixed drink did.

I didn’t bother to look sober when Dominik came through the bedroom door. Walking to his side I didn’t dare look but I could hear him getting undressed. I wanted to look so badly, it felt like it had been days since I’d seen Dom shirtless.

Laughing and struggling with his pants I realized he was as drunk as I was but yet I kept my eyes forward.

“How about that pity fuck now, baby?” In just a shirt and pair of boxer briefs he forced me to look at him.

“Dom… I was just trying to protect myself. It wasn’t a pity fuck, how is riding you in public pity?” The wine hit me even hard with every word as I shifted to sit up higher, closer to him standing at the edge.

“It was cheap, you didn’t want me to see you or touch you. Fuck, you didn’t even want it. I can’t fuck you like that, you aren’t some rat.” Taking off his shirt I took in every tattoo, every muscle, every way he was perfect.

“We're both drunk and your dad is sleeping in a bunk. I can get a hotel if the bed is a problem. I don’t want to torture you.” On my knees in the middle of the bed in his shirt and a thong I almost whimpered at the logic. I wanted to be reckless. I wanted to fuck Dom until I couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t break his heart in the process.

“You’re sitting here in my shirt and a fucking thong, putting my feelings first when we both know you’re just as turned on as I am. You’re fucking made for me. I need you to take off those panties, mi amore.” Kneeling on the bed his mouth found mine and I couldn’t help kiss back. Dom’s warm tongue rolled against mine and I whimpered.

His fingers laced with the thin band of my thong, dragging it down my legs and tossing them to the side before stumbling back down to me. “Shhh, your dad.”

Dragging me down to the edge he stepped off enough to push his designer box briefs off. “I don’t care who hears as long as it’s my name you’re saying. Everyone knows we’re in love, you just refuse to admit it.”

My shirt lifted up while Dom’s hands cupped my tits. He said what I refused to, all in one sentence, not three words. “Dom,” I whimpered when he looked down between my legs.

“I know, it’s just a pity fuck so I don’t have to fuck my hand.”

On my knees I dragged him down as he sloppily fell on the bed. Straddling him again I looked down at him, still wearing his cross, looking up at me like I already broke his heart.

Sitting up I waited for him to guide himself inside me when I whispered, “Promise this doesn’t change anything?”

I sat down slowly, every inch stretching me out and sobering me. I moaned out the second our bodies were flush and every inch was buried inside me.

“Why would it?” The disdain on his face was hard to ignore. None of this was going to be a good memory. “Nothing ever changes between us.”

Rolling my hips softly I felt his hands travel up the front of my shirt, squeezing gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I ruined it with feelings.” I stilled over him, not moving an inch when he fell back down to the bed, exhaling in this annoyed way.

Under me I watched him grow more and more unforgiving. “I left the bar alone. I pushed Liv away. I came home to you like I always do.” Pushing me off his lap he b-lined it to my cup of wine before continuing. “Like a good little boy. I’m always thinking of us when you don’t even want to be an us.”

“We are an us - just a different kind of us. Every time we fuck you pressure me into feeling guilty about not wanting to add feelings into the equation.” I was pleading with Dom to keep it simple: just sex.

Sitting on my side of the bed he poured me a glass and drank straight from the bottle. “Because it’s never gonna be just fucking for me. I’ve had girlfriends and I’ve had sex, none of them are what happens between us.”

Taking another sip I wrapped my arms around him from behind, my body pressed against his back. “That’s why I avoid it, I keep saying no. Torture is easier.”

With my chin on his shoulder I looked down at his body and wished I was someone else. Someone who wasn’t broken the way I was. Taking my wine I pulled away from him, laying down and ignoring the still playing television on the wall. Instead I scrolled through socials.

Without even trying I had drank my entire oversized glass of wine and scrolled to a video of Dom and Liv making out in a dark bar. I watched it more than a dozen times before Dom got my attention. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Sitting up, more drunk, I asked him. “Are you going to fuck Liv?” The video was still looping on my screen in my hand.

He stopped getting dressed and turned around to face me. “Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

“Lie,” my lip shook and I got up on my knees like his answer had power over me.

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be back, you don’t have to wait up.” Dom looked me in the eye and I felt my heart panic.

Taking off the only item of clothing, his shirt, off I sat back down on my heels. “Tell me the truth, Dom.”

Pulling down his shirt he stood there in front of the bed in the small room taking up the end of the bus. “Liv texted me. I’m gonna go over to her hotel room.”

“And fuck her because I ruined it.”

Closing his eyes just a little long then needed as he paused. “You don’t get it, I’ve never needed pussy the way I do right now. I don’t know if it’s being pushed up against you at night, finding your fucking toy, I don’t know. All I know is I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. I can’t fucking rehearse or train. I can’t fucking sleep next you. I need pussy.”

“Don’t go. Don’t fuck her.” I pleaded with my hands clutching onto his shirt and pulling him closer.

Our mouths collided and our tongues immediately found heaven inside each other’s mouths. “Take these off. Take it all off.”

Dom pulled his shirt off effortlessly before pushing me back on the bed. Our mouths found each other again while my legs wrapped around him.

My hands pulled on the waistband of his joggers forcing him to push them down between our bodies. I forgot we weren’t alone when I moaned at loud at his knuckles brushing my clit while he lined himself up.

Dom was so hard it felt all too much when he pushed inside me. Every husky breath fell on my chest cause my back to arch for him. I always wanted Dom but this time felt rushed, no long let desire but a need.

Dom’s thrusts were punishing, hard and pausing at the end just long enough to torture me back. “Jesus. Fucking. How can you feel this good.”

His phone on the nightstand buzzed and buzzed until he rolled his eyes and reached for his phone. Switching positions I sat on his lap while he laid against the pillows. Riding him, I rolled my hips and arched my back forcing my tits in his face when he answered.

His finger over his mouth he silently told me to not moan even though his voice sounded labored at hello.

I couldn’t hear it until he put it on speaker and dropped in on the pillow next to him. Relaxing more, he laid back, his hands working my tits.

“Are you still coming? I’m wearing something you’ll love taking off of me..” the girly voice was easy to name. Liv.

Grabbing my hips, Dom forced me to pick up the pace when he hurried his face in my neck. We were both breathing heavily and the moans we were hiding wasn’t working.

“I’m a little busy right now… Fuck… just like that baby.” Placing my hand over his mouth I muffled his moans.

“You’re fucking that bitch? Are you serious?”

She started talking but Dom ended the call before I could register any real thoughts. All I could focus on was Dom jerking inside me and my legs shaking.

Whispering against my lips, “Let me come inside you.”

I let him, just like I did before. There was something about the way he held onto me when he groaned his way to his orgasm that I couldn’t say no to. His arms around my waist he held me still, groaning into my chest, before he came inside me.

He knew I loved him; he just didn’t know why I couldn’t.

“First time I realized we would always have separate lives to some degree.” I choked out knowing it was true. I would always be a guest when it came to his work and he would feel like a guest in our lives at home. There was no winning. No amount of me being by his side was going to change that fact.

“What does that mean?” I could feel his wrinkled brows glance at me with his hand strangled the steering wheel of his BMW.

I fixed my eyes out the window, “I’ll never be apart of that part of your life. Work takes up more of your life than anything else and I’m forced to piece it together Monday nights. I didn’t even know you were going to carry on some fake relationship with Rhea. I’m stuck at home watching.”

Starring at me instead of the road he snickered, “And I don’t feel the same about you being home? Getting to live the life I want to be living with you? You went on the road and hated it. Now they want you to partner with Randy and suddenly you want to travel with me?”

“Fuck you. This has nothing to do with him.” I argued. I couldn’t say I need to be there so you don’t cheat. That was only part of the reason, really.

The rest of the drive was quiet, so silent it almost felt heavy and when he pulled into the driveway I barely waited for him to turn the car off before I headed inside.

Last time I was on the road was torture and I was willing to give it another shot for our relationship. We weren’t kids, we couldn’t get drunk and fuck our problems away.

#dom mysterio #wwe #wwe fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #dom mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio fanfic #dom mysterio fanfic #dominik mysterio x reader

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chronicallycouchbound · 1 year

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If you have chronic nerve pain (trigeminal neuralgia) due to your broken wisdom tooth like I do, here’s my list of things to try for pain management. These things might help for other chronic or acute facial nerve pain issues, jaw pain, broken teeth, wisdom tooth pain, toothache, etc.

• Ibuprofen, Tylenol and most medications severely interact with my other conditions, especially my stomach conditions, so I avoid them as much as possible. Liquid versions aren’t as bad if I can find dye free, citric acid free, versions in flavors I’m not allergic to. These can help for a lot of people though, just ask your dr if you’re unsure.

• Brushing the broken area, gently, to clean out any food particles that might be stuck in it is hit or miss but can make a difference. It’s always sore for a while after brushing so that’s a con

• I make homemade clove tinctures with vodka and whole and ground cloves. I let it sit in a glass container in a cool,dark place for as long as possible and shake it when I see it (keep it with your spices you’ll remember it more). Then I take a gauze pad and get a dropper full and put it on it. Both cloves and vodka have anesthetic properties and can numb it for a bit. It’s a very temporary solution, also can cause soreness from pressure on the tooth.

• Hot pad on the cheek can cause soreness too (a running theme) BUT it helps a lot especially with cold sensitivity. After you remove the hot pad you can be extra sensitive to the cold or drafts in the air so that sucks too but it passes after a couple mins usually.

• Waterpik flossers are great for sensitive mouth issues, and clean out the tooth area with minimal soreness. Great but takes more spoons to do than toothbrushing and is less portable.

• CBD oil is hit or miss. I have other serious chronic pain disorders and just like many generalized pain management options, it can sometimes get rid of the headache I didn’t notice anymore or the joint pain I dissociate out of existence. Like yeah, glad thats gone but it just makes me focus on the other pain more. Some CBD options aren’t strong enough to do shit for me.

• Warm salt water gargle/rinse is helpful for me most of the time, and it is really important to keep any broken teeth very, very clean due to infection risk. The warmth and salt can help with the pain overall though and so far doesn’t have negative effects for me. It’s very mild in terms of managing the pain though, it’s like a soft gentle kiss on a boo-boo. Feels nice in the moment but when you’re done it usually just goes back to the pain your had.

• TENS units might work for you. I have several electrical abnormalities in my heart so I’m not allowed to use TENS but I’ve heard they can help. Definitely ask a dr first for this one though because I don’t know all the safety risks especially with facial pain

• Warm environments with no drafts or wind, ideal for this pain, for me is not ideal bc of my cardiac issues.

• Medical ultrasound machine, I’ve used these for other conditions in PT and they help a lot!! I don’t know if you can get these outside of a medical setting, especially for a reasonable price, but a provider might be able to help with this. There is the ultrasound goop they put on wherever they do it though so like, might not be fun and also might be a bit sore after?

• Last resort: adult beverages so I’m not paying attention to the pain. Works best for sleeping for me, but obviously has it’s drawbacks.

I avoid:

- Cold environments

- Drafts and wind on my face

- Cold foods

- Hard foods

- Sleeping on the side that hurts

- Chewing on that side

- Talking too much, chewing gum, etc.

- Going anywhere without at least one pain management option available

- Trying to sleep without a pain management option or plan ready to go

- Not brushing my teeth, at minimum I use mouthwash after meals

And some important reminders:

• Watch out for signs of infection and get treatment ASAP. Dental infections are no joke and can be life threatening quickly, especially if you have certain medical conditions such as heart valve disorders (like me).

• These recommendations are from personal experience, talk to your medical providers to see if they’re right for you. I am not a doctor just a humble chronically ill person.

• These are not a replacement for actual medical treatments for your condition, you should still see a professional if you can.

• Many insurances don’t cover dental, dental issues are more common amongst poor people, rooted in the idea that you can still work with fucked up teeth or without teeth . Hence why they’re called “luxury bones”

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slippinmickeys · 4 months

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Old Chem, pt 5

TW: school lockdown

Lockdown. A shooter on campus. Things he never used to have to think about.

He was in class and the kids were quiet, everyone with their nose glued to their phones. The doors were barred. They all looked scared.

“Can anyone tell me what part of the brain takes over in fight or flight?” he asked quietly.

Most of them look up from their phones, confused. Classes were canceled, was this guy really trying to teach? This was a smaller, 200-level class, though, these kids knew this stuff.

One, in the front row, half raised her hand. Mulder nodded at her.

“The amygdala?”

“That’s right,” he said. He was sitting on top of one of the desks in the front of the room, trying to appear as casual and calm as he could so that his students might feed off of his vibe.

“When the alert came through our phones, the amygdala took over. Anyone remember the first step?”

“Perceiving the threat,” said a kid in the back.

“Yep,” Mulder said, holding up two fingers. “Step two: flight or flight, triggered by adrenaline and cortisol. These happen quickly. We can stay in step two for a bit. Prolonged stress response. Who feels like they’re in it now?”

Most of the hands in the class went up.

“The goal is to get the prefrontal cortex back in control,” he said.

“How do we do that?” said a sophomore from the front. He seemed a little angry, was nervously chewing his gum, fidgeting.

“Deep breathing can help,” Mulder said, and noticed a few students take deep breaths.

“Exercise too, believe it or not,” Mulder went on.

“We’re shit out of luck there,” said the sophomore. “We’re locked in this room.”

There were sirens blaring distantly from the other end of campus.

“True,” said Mulder. “But there are other ways.”

“Like?” said a quiet girl from the front. He thought her name might be Courtney.

“Talking to other people,” Mulder said. “Getting creative. And,” he went on, “Cognitive activities. Putting your brain to work. I want everyone to write or type out–right now–the title of the paper you turned in last week for this class. On paper, on your laptop, on your phone, doesn’t matter.”

He gave them all a minute. “Okay,” he said. “Now write down roughly what your thesis statement was.”

Another moment. “Okay. Now who’s still in Fight or Flight?”

Less hands went up and Mulder smiled. “See? It's already working.”

A few students smiled back, looking more calm.

Then, one of the girls that was on the ski trip with them raised her hand, her face pale.

“Professor Mulder?” she said.

Mulder nodded at her.

She swallowed. “They’re saying hostages were taken. In the Miller Lab.”

All the kids swung their phones back up and Mulder felt a sharp dart of primal fear pierce through his chest. The Miller Lab was the one Scully ran. And she was there right now.

***

What he was doing was idiotic and breaking pages worth of school protocol and policy, but he didn’t think about any of those things as he ran over the footbridge and toward the lab where Scully spent a majority of her time on campus.

The whole of the building was cordoned off with yellow police tape and there was a ring of police cruisers parked at haphazard angles surrounding it. Clumps of students stood in the trees beyond the emergency vehicles, some hugging each other, some nervously watching. About twenty yards away, Mulder spotted Rudy, one of Scully’s graduate lab assistants nervously chewing his black painted nails.

“Rudy!” Mulder called and ran over to him. “Where is she?” he asked without preamble.

“I don’t know,” Rudy said urgently. “I was in a different part of the building. There was shouting and then kind of chaos and then a gunshot. Someone pulled the fire alarm and we all tore ass out. I haven’t seen her.”

Next to Rudy stood another lab assistant. She was teary, wide-eyed.

“He said his name was Duane Barry,” she hiccuped. “He said…he said some crazy shit.”

Just then a large armored-like vehicle pulled onto the scene and parked. A moment later the back door opened and a large man in a blue slicker jacket hopped down. He was bald, with glasses, and when he turned to talk to one of the cops on the scene, Mulder saw the big yellow letters across the back of the man’s jacket: “FBI.”

“Fuuuuck,” swore Rudy softly.

Mulder was in a blind panic, but trying not to show it. Stairs were being attached to the big vehicle, and several other agents emerged from it, walkie-talkies in their hands, all of them looking serious, all of them wearing guns. He was on the verge of marching over and offering help or demanding answers–he wasn’t sure which–when he heard someone shout his name from behind him.

He whirled around and there was Scully coming at him at a full run, her white lab coat flapping in the air behind her. He tore away from Rudy and flew to meet her, sweeping her up into his arms and into a grip so fierce she grunted. Her arms swung around his neck and she pressed her mouth to his collar.

“I’m okay,” she whispered several inches below his ear. “I’m okay.”

***

Charlie and his wife Sandra sat across from them holding hands, Sandra’s dress the same pale pink as the linen tablecloth on Margaret Scully’s dining room table. The leaves of the table had been pulled out and put on and it was set up in festive Easter decor; elegant candlesticks, a light brown water pitcher shaped like a rabbit, round enamel eggs in pastels dotted amongst the platters heaped with honey-baked ham, salad, sweet rolls.

“God, that must have been terrifying,” Sandra said, looking at Scully with a sympathetic look.

“It was,” Scully said simply. She pulled her napkin out of its ring and draped it over her lap.

“I’m just glad they got the guy,” said Melissa, who lowered herself down to sit on Scully’s other side. Across from her, and next to Sandra, sat Bill and Tara, whose belly was softly rounded with pregnancy.

“What motivated him, did they say?” Charlie asked.

From the head of the table, Scully’s mother sat silent and uncomfortable, watching her children talk with her hand resting along the top of her wine glass.

“He claimed to have been abducted by aliens and experimented on,” Mulder said. “He thought the labs at the university were somehow involved in whatever he thinks happened to him.”

“Delusional,” Bill spit.

“Likely, yes,” Mulder said, the only person at the table qualified to make that diagnosis. He felt sorry for the man.

“Did you talk to him?” Bill asked, looking at his youngest sister.

Scully shook her head. “I saw him in the hallway with the gun. Threw the lock on my lab, pulled the fire alarm and jumped out my window.”

Mulder reached over and squeezed her hand. Her quick thinking had probably saved numerous lives.

The incident had shaken him profoundly. Made him rethink all of his priorities.

“I hope the man gets the help he needs,” Mrs. Scully finally spoke.

Mulder remembered watching the guy get perp-walked into the back of an unmarked sedan by the tall, bald FBI agent. He remembered the wild, desperate look in Barry’s eyes. Mulder hoped he’d get the help he needed, too.

“Let’s move on to happier discussions,” Mrs. Scully went on, giving her head a little shake and reaching her hands out on either side of her to grip hands with Charlie, with Mulder. “Who’d like to say grace?”

Mulder held her hand warmly, reached out to take Scully’s as well. Before he ducked his head, he looked briefly at Margaret Scully’s hand, at her thin, paper-like skin, her knobbly arthritic knuckles, the wedding ring on her hand sitting in its own worn groove, nicked and shining, a perfect circle of aurum.

Bless this food to our use

He’d like to put a ring on Scully’s finger, he thought suddenly. He’d like to bind her to him forever.

and us to thy service

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #prompt #old chem universe

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ttal-zi · 2 years

Text

head over feet | jungkook x reader

our dearest y/n suffers from an acute case of being absolutely tongue-tied whenever her cute banana milk regular comes in the convenience store. confiding in her closest online friend about her woes, an adventure in stepping out of your comfort zone ensues.

*very much unedited. enjoy

Magicarpediem: I mean rly, ask me any NUMBER of things about seventeen’s discography and i will return with a 5 page essay. But uh oh- cute convenience boy wants to buy some banana milk?

Magicarpediem: suddenly i forget how vocal chords operate.

jktheironGiant: LMAO

Magicarpediem: you laugh at my misery

Magicarpediem: ARE YOU ENTERTAINED

jktheironGiant: oh 100% please continue

Magicarpediem: ��(ಠ益ಠ)ლ

You sigh in frustration, placing your phone facedown on the counter with a little more force than necessary. It was a slow morning at the convenience store, so you didn’t feel too bad about texting your online friend instead of restocking stale chips. It was usually easy, working here- Family on a road trip, interns in a rush, really everybody came in and you handled their interactions with ease. At most a little small talk was required, but after working here for most of your college experience you had become well-versed in the activity.

Until he showed up.

You remembered it like it was yesterday- A crossword puzzle on the counter, a virtually empty store. It was raining outside, with only an hour left of your shift. You just chewed your gum and tried to make time pass. You tapped your pencil to your chin the way they always did in movies, the pitter patter of the rain only mildly distracting.

Alright, let’s see…4 down; Eros, the greek god of-

With a Pop! Your gum burst and the door swung open. But you barely looked up.

“Welcome in.” You called politely, your attention still glued to your crossword. You didn't get paid enough to see if whoever came through shoplifted a stick of gum anyway.

“Ack, come on I know this. I read percy jackson in middle school…” You grumbled, wracking your brain and rubbing your forehead sthoughtfully. In the distance you heard the customer shuffling around the store.

“Was it birds? Something about birds, right? No, it needs an O to fit…crow? Ugh, that doesn’t work.”

You hadn’t realised that your mumble was less of a mumble and more of a “Yes-im-talking-out-loud-to-myself-in-a-public-place”.

“What are you working on?” A gentle voice seeped into your attention. Your eyes stayed glued to the page that was slowly driving you mad.

“Just a crossword. I’ve almost finished it but I'm stuck on this last one. I don’t know why I keep doing these. They always piss me off when I can't get it.”

Footsteps came closer to the counter, the sound of fabric rustling. Soon enough, a shadow hovered over you and your crossword. “Maybe I can help?” it was deeper than you realised, the voice. It had a sense of melody to it, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d heard it somewhere before.

You spun the crossword around to face the stranger. “Go for it, man.” you saw…hands come into your vision. Not just any hands either. They were deft, covered mostly by fingerless gloves, but you could see specks of nail polish still decorating the strong and bony fingers.

You looked uo quickly, but the stranger was backlit in a fluorescent halo from the ceiling lights- all you saw was shadow. The voice hummed.

“Huh. I mean, loaf definitely fits. Was he the god of bread?” An unexpected laugh tore out of you. “Ha, if only. Eros, the god of loaves.” You rolled your eyes good naturedly but something seems to click for the man. He smacked his fist in his palm in understanding. “Oh! I’ve got it!”

And then everything was dark. You blinked once, twice. Dark, chocolatey black and curly hair tumbled in front of your vision. It took your brain a little while to process what you were seeing. The stranger had leaned his head down to scribble onto the crossword. You had the intense urge to run your hands through it.

You shook your head, trying to clear out the abrupt thought, when the stranger jumped back from the page and turned it towards you. “Love.” He said in that melodious voice. A chill went up your spine.

“I mean, to be fair i also associate love with bread so its quite the easy mixup.” you could hear that smu fuccking grin in his voice, so you looked up with a retort on the tip of your tongue.

And thats when you forgot how to breathe. Someone had thrown the store into mars and opened the airlock. All the oxygen was sucked out of your body at the beauty of the man in frontvog you.

His face was framed somehow both delicately and messy by his black locks , his wide eyes a shade of brown you had never quite seen. You were right- He was smiling, the most fucking smarmy, smug grin you had ever seen. It was the most beautiful thing youd ever seen, his pale rose lips parted around pearly whites. His dark brows furrowed the tiniest centimeter and-

o h. Oh god. He was waiting fir a response. One that you didnt have. Oh, Eros.

“I, uh-”

Think Y/N, think, think, think! Use that smart and sexy brain of yours to come up with a response that will make the fucking myth in front of you propose and take you out of this store with a ring on your finger! A ring pop would be fine!

“I’m allergic to gluten.”

MAYBE NOT THAT-

His eyes widened in surprise at the abrupt response. He let out a good natured chuckle. “More for me, then.”

Y/N, did that sexy brain of yours forget that you are, in fact, NOT allergic to gluten?? Lies are not stable foundations for relationships, dumbass!

“Just kidding.”

Smooth. Really, truly, smooth.

But before the man could respond, you spotted the milk carton he had set on the counter. In your previous crossword blindness you hadn’t even noticed.

“I-It’s on the house.” You said, pushing the milk back in front of him. “For the bread. I mean, loaf. I mean-” You gestured at the milk hoping he understood your unintelligible words. He was going to need a crossword to understand you at this point.

But instead of taking th emilk and running far away from the wordless cashier that you were, he smiled. It was warm and genuine, not a hint of the mischevious smugness from earlier. His eyes were bright, and he made your knees quake on the linoleum tile. “Thank you!”

His words were like a philharmonic orchestra.

Yours felt like a soundcloud rappers corrupted file.

“N-no yeah.” Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the hybrid of no problem and whatever the fuck else just happened there!

His smile stayed put, seemingly immovable. “I’ll see you around then. Let me know if you ever come by some more bread-related crosswords.” He waved goodbye, banana milk secure in warm hands. You nodded mutely, afraid of opening your mouth for what would spill out.

It wasnt until the stranger had closed the door to the rainy city beyond that you let yourself collapse on top of the crossword with an “Ugh”.

“Curses…foiled again.” Even your lamenting needed work, apparently.

You sighed, opening up your eyes to the paper you rested on. There, scrawled in the little four spaces was someone elses handwriting. Completing your puzzle with a neatly written

Love.

It had been nearly a year since then. You’d seen the man through all different seasons; Bundled up in a winter puffer jacket, sweating in a white shirt in the summer, or even the comfy-looking cardigan you’d seen on a pretty spring day. Every time he’d greet you with that bright smile, lighting up your insides. Eventually you learned his name was Jungkook.

You couldn’t think about anything else that day.

Besides providing you endless bouts of heart palpitations and sudden onset weakness in your knees, he also provided an endless source of entertainment for your best friend.

You’d been introduced to jktheironGiant through a minecraft server created by your friend Hoseok. After you both tried to sabotage kingTAEta’s building with a little bit of lava, the two of you have been inseparable. Over the three years you’ve known JK, he’s become your best friend; Despite not knowing each others names or faces, he’s one of the only people that truly knows you.

Which also means he knows how completely mortified you are by these interactions.

And god, he loves it.

jktheironGiant: has he come in today yet?

jktheironGiant: i wanna witness that effect he has on your typing in which you suddenly no longer know how words work >:)

You huff out a laugh, typing a response.

Magicarpediem: ur a sick man jk. this is torture, truly.

The doorbell jingles just as JK’s response comes through.

jktheironGiant: Kinky

For no reason at all, you feel your cheeks heat. You put your phone upside down on the counter to greet your latest customer. “Good morning, welcome in-” You stutter at the end as your eyes catch on the man walking through the door. It’s Jungkook.

Fitting the cold weather outside, he’s wearing a black turtleneck and overcoat, his hand dipping breifly into his pocket seemingly to put his phone away. He meets your eyes, bright and shiny as always. “Morning, Y/N!” He greets you with a grin, beelining over to the refrigerated drinks.

Suddenly, the cozy sweater you’re wearing feels 100 degrees warmer.

Oh god, okay, don’t mess this up. He’s been in here a million times, you can talk to him! Ask him how his day is, how he’s doing!

Jungkook walks over to the counter with a bit of a spring in his step, his eyes glued to you. He sets the banana milk on the counter and smiles at you… but theeres something about it. He looks like he knows something.

Or i’m reading too much into this and the poor man just wants his drink. You take the milk and scan it, the silence stiffening around you.

“So,” You begin. Okay here it is, don’t fumble it. “How….” How’s your day? How are you?

But instead you just stop. Even after he hands you his debit card, you don’t continue. Just. How.

“How..?” Jungkook repeats, his eyes locked onto yours like heat seeking missiles. Not for the first time sicne he;s arrived, you feel your entire body burning up.

“How….” You repeat again, glancing for anything around you to possibly take you out of this botched attempt at conversation. Abort mission!

“...How would you like this bagged?” You point weakly to the paper or plastic bags next to you. “W-we have plastic, or paper, but if you want a reusable one i can probably find something in the back, though I can’t promise it will be new or anything-”

Jungkook watches as you flounder, mirth twinkling in those devastatingly handsome eyes. He hums. “No bag today- I’ll just carry it.” He smiles, winking at you.

Your heart skips several beats, and you wonder if Jungkook knows CPR.

“...Ah. Cool. Bye.”

Y/N I am BEGGING YOU-

“I mean.. Uh.. see ya.”

Please quit while you’re ahead, this is awful.

“Enjoy your…milk.” To top it all off, your possessed hands attempt finger guns. But alas, sleeves are long, and your thumbs are stuck within them, so now you're just pointing at the man in front of you and dying very quickly inside.

The man is a saint, apparently. Or just very oblivious. He chuckles.

“See you soon, Y/N!” And within moments, he’s gone.

You slump on the counter once more.

“Why???” You groan at no one but yourself.

That night, all you hear is JK’s hysterical laughter at your expense. You groan, shoving your head in your hands as you sit at your computer. “I literally do not know why I keep telling you about this. Every time it happens i regret my life decisions.” JK’s slightly distorted laughing calms to a point- but not completely. His tinny voice comes through your headphones- He still uses his old headphone’s microphone, the quality probably not doing any sort of justice for his voice.

“It’s probably because I promise you VBucks in return for your emotional damage.” JK cackles. You roll your eyes even when you know he can’t see it. “I’m still only playing that for you and Jiminie- I cannot, in good conscience, say that I like Fortnite.”

“You don’t have to admit something for it to be true~” JK sing-songs in your ears. You huff, acting annoyed when really…you aren’t. JK’s banter and jokes always manage to uplift you, even when it’s because of an embarrassing thing you did. He manages to turn a situation where others are laughing at you, into the two of you laughing at it. It’s one of the things you like about him the most.

“C’mon I don’t have anything that I can tease you with- this is very unfair.” You grumble, but your hearts not in it. “I guess I’ll have to ask the server about more embarassing JK moments. I need to expand my arsenal.” You quip, already typing away. “Oh NO you don’t-” JK Responds, suddenly alarmed. “Oh how the turn tables~” You answer smugly.

The Crazy Eights :P

Magicarpediem: gimme your most embarrassing jktheironGiant moments go

jktheironGiant: please do not add betrayal to your list of sin 〣( ºΔº )〣

Not even a minute later, there's a flood of responses.

kingTAEta: most definitely cried when we saw endgame

jktheironGiant: WHO DIDN”T

jellyjiiminie5: well yeah but you were the only one that passed out from dehydration afterwards

You let out a surprised gasp. “JK, Really?!?” He just groaned in response.

Magicarpediem: i love this. So much.

lilmeowmeow: one time i asked him if he drank water and he asked me if there was water in banana milk

Magicarpediem: OMG

jktheironGiant: well at least now i see whos not coming with me in the zombie apocalypse :/

worldwidJinn: honestly im disappointed >:( you’re all so ready to stab little jk in the back

jktheironGiant: THANK YOU jin

worldwidJinn: and you’re completely forgetting about the multiple times he’s forgotten about the concept of fall damage in a match

jktheironGiant: nam i’m being bullied.

naMonster: lol

You were having trouble breathing at this point. Your hysterical laughter only bringing sighs out of JK.

jktheironGiant: i think magicarp over here is having a heart attack stop telling embarassing stories she might pass out

Magicarpediem: PLEASE CONTINURE

hohohoseK: only you have the power to stop this jk [●´︶｀●] you know what it will take

jktheironGiant: …guys i don’t have THAT many vbucks

hohohoseK: all it takes is the truth young padawan ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ(￣ω￣ )

Lilmeowmeow: do it JK

kingTAEta: stop torturing Magicarp and maybe we’ll grant you mercy :)

JK’s end became quiet as the messages continued. “Yeah JK stop torturing me~” You laughed, trying to brighten up and bring your friend back. The sudden silence was unlike him.

jktheironGiant: >:( fine. Later.

Magicarpediem: i feel like I’m missing something but as long as im no longer being tortured im good (☆▽☆)

“Fine. No more embarrassment about convenience guy.” A message pinged on the chat. “Jiminie is ready to play anyway- You can use your beloved VBucks.” You could only laugh in response, happy to finally be around someone you knew you could talk to.

The next day found you sipping your favorite winter drink in a cozy cafe. You had come in to get some work done for a class, but with almost being done with school it was finished in no time. Now you simply enjoyed the atmosphere of the restaurant in winter while reading a book. No strangers had even sat next to you! Life was good, and that could be rare when you took a seat at those long half-booth monstrosities. They were designed to make people anxious, you concluded.

You paid no mind to the people walking and moving around you, content to be absorbed in the fantastical romance of your novel. So much so, in fact, that you didn’t notice the dark-haired figure walking up to you.

“Excuse me… may I sit here?” You froze at the melodious tone of his voice. Slowly, you craned your neck up in horror.

He was here. Jungkook was here.

Oh god.

His eyebrows raised as your eyes met. “Oh! Y/N! Hey!” He gestured to the seat next to you. “Would you mind? I promise not to interrupt your book or anything.” He chuckled.

All you could do was nod.

He looked at you quizically. “You…do mind?”

You shook your head violently. “You don’t?” He still had that lost puppy look on his face.

You nodded again. Your head was getting dizzy. “You do-”

“Just sit down, Jungkook.” You facepalmed outwardly. Oh well. You’d embarrassed yourself enough in front of him- What did once more hurt? A grin grew on his lips. “Thanks.”

He scooted in next to you, and oh god you were enveloped in Jungkook. In this mysterious-not-so-mystery that had whirled into your life so suddenly. THe man made you tongue tied up down and sideways, and now he was sitting next to you with that cologne.

Good lord youd never been close enough to smell it- or him. You were addicted to his presence and had to physically bite your tongue from saying anything about it.

You tried to shove your nose in your book once more, but it only worked for so long.

“Hey, do you think you could watch my stuff real quick? I’m gonna go grab a drink.” He said, giving you that little smile that you would kill for. Apparently now you could nod your head correctly, so that’s exactly what you did. With another quick smile and a thanks, Jungkook left his phone on the table and his bag in the seat.

Enter: Freakout mode.

Oh god what am I gonna do??? He’s probably going to say something fucking- sweet, and, and funny! Shit shit shit shit-

You yanked out your own phone, furiously typing.

Magicarpediem: SOS HE’S HERE- IN THE CAFE- JK WHAT AM I GONNA DO?!?!

A faint buzz from Jungkook’s phone had you nearly jumping in your seat. Was that-? No. No that’s just a coincidence. His phone lay face down on the table, and coming from that direction, you couldn’t even be sure it was his that had buzzed.

You picked up your phone and began typing once more, only interrupted by Jungkooks return. “Thanks for watching my things.” He said, ever smiling at you. You merely nodded and returned to your panic typing.

Magicarpediem: I just messed up nodding, how the fuck does someone do that?? Oh good lord jk. He’s too pretty. I just can’t. I don’t know what it is.

Beside you, Jungkook picked up his phone, taking a sip of his drink. You didn’t notice the way he stiffened as he looked at his device, too wrapped up in your panic rambling.

Magicarpediem: i can no longer come to this cafe anymore :’D not until i can operate my vocal chords again. Packing up and RUNNING in about 3 seconds.

“Don’t!” Jungkook yelped beside you, and you whipped your head to meet his wild-eyed gaze. “Ah- Shit, sorry just uh. My book. Character’s making a bad decision.” He waved his phone haphazardly in the air. You stared at him for a beat, but you couldn’t hold back the giggle that came out.

“It’s fine- It happens to me too.”

Was that…

A normal sentence?

Jungkook stared at you, wide eyed, like you’d just told him the moon was made of pizza and he could go pick up a slice. Your cheeks warmed, and you diverted your attention back to your phone.

Magicarpediem: i…. Said an actual sentence. Holy shit.

Jungkook chuckled beside you, presumably at his book. You tried to ignore the fact that you loved the sound so much.

jktheironGiant: lmao, see? It’s not that hard. Cmon i bet hes just as nervous as you

You scoffed out loud.

Magicarpediem: no way- he’s been a smooth criminal ever since i met him. I bet his brain is smooth too. All smooth. Like a river rock.

jktheironGiant:...a river rock?

Magicarpediem: or just like. dwayne the rock johnson. He’s smooth.

jktheironGiant: smooth head

Magicarpediem: very.

You began to laugh at the same moment Jungkook did. You clammed up suddenly, shooting him a bashful smile.

“What are you laughing at?” His voice rang out next to you.

“I uh…my friend. He’s teasing me.” You answered in the least amount of words possible, but once again you managed to make an actual, coherent, response!

Jungkook tilted those inquisitive eyes towards you again, something.. Deeper in them.

“Boyfriend?”

Your face heated to a billion degrees, warmth crawling up every inch of your body. “I. Uh. Uhm. N-No.” And you couldn’t help but feel slightly…wrong, for saying that. A little disappointed because you wouldn’t mind if JK was your boyfriend. The crush you harbored for him would enjoy it immensely.

Jungkook nodded, seemingly thinking about something. “Good.”

You did a double take. “I- Wh-Wha-” You tried to get the words out, but your mouth just opened and closed like a fish gasping for air while jungkook turned his bemused attention back to his phone.

jktheironGiant: either way, hes totally nervous. Maybe he just shows it differently.

Magicarpdiem: suuuuuuure….why would i make him nervous though?

JK’s response was instantaneous.

jktheironGiant: you’re pretty

You were pretty sure your heart stopped. You let out a faint gasp, as the words melted into your mind. But before you could ask how he knew that without ever seeing you, JK continued to battle your heart with his pure words

jktheironGiant: plus you’re super cool and funny- you told me how you two met remember? Funny people can be intimidating.

Magicarpediem: JK i was literally talking to myself over a crossword puzzle.

jktheironGiant: and that isn’t funny?

Magicarpediem:.....

jktheironGiant: c’mon just ask him something- maybeeee you could go take a walk. Get to know each other wink wink

Magicarpediem: just out of the blue like that?

jktheironGiant: you like him, don’t you?

Magicarpediem: …

Magicarpediem: fine.

And before you could back out, before you could process what you were doing, you turned to Jungkook.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?”

No ‘It’s a little loud in here’. No ‘if you can’. No ‘since the weather's nice’.

No excuse or reason- Just asking the boy you like if he’d like to walk with you.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised in surprise. But it flickered away quickly, replaced by a look of pure joy.

“Y-yeah! I’d love to.”

And you smiled.

“Wait, really?? Well, that was pretty convenient for you.” You laughed, walking side by side with Jungkook. “Yup. The one day I forget my wallet and you gave me a free milk.” Jungkook lifted his hand behind his head, stretching. “Since then, I knew I owed you a life debt.” You giggled; Something about this boy, this man- He made you laugh the way only one other person had before.

“I’m glad we get to talk like this now.” He said, ruffling his soft locks. “At first I was worried that you were scared of me or something.”

“Scared of you?” You repeated in shock at the notion that you could ever be scared of Jungkook. “No way. Just… in awe, I suppose.” You looked anywhere but him, even as you felt those inquisitive eye on you.

“Awe?” He repeated.

“Yeah.” You confirmed.

Oh well. Fuck it.

“You’re really pretty, Jungkook.” You looked him in the eyes when you said it, and continued your walk. You only got a few steps before you realised that Jungkook had stopped. “Jungkook?” You looked at him, puzzled.

He was staring at you with wide eyes, full of an emotion you couldn’t place. “Come on, surely you know that.” You tried to play it off, thinking he was uncomfortable.

He shook his head. “It’s different coming from you.” There was a pleasant emotion, heavy lacing through his words. You just smiled at him. It was easier now- Like the shock of cold after jumping in the pool, only to never want to get out.

“Well it’s true.” You said. You walked closer to him, grabbing his hand- The first thing you had seen when you met him, the hand that wrote ‘Love’ and had your brain overload with emotion.

“Now c’mon, the stores are gonna close soon.”

It felt right to lace your fingers with his own. Like you had been waiting a long time, only to finally, finally feel the warmth of his palm against your own.

“This is me.” You said as you and Jungkook stopped outside your apartment building. The impromptu walk turned into an impromptu shopping trip turned into impromptu dinner…

An impromptu date, really.

And now he had insisted on walking you safely back home, bringing your spontaneous adventure for a close. You turned to him. “I uh…” You were struck again not only by his beauty, but his kindness. The way he’d made you laugh all night, asked for your opinions, talked about your lives. The way you felt comfortable to simply be with him. To not pretend.

“I’m really glad you talked to me Jungkook.” a look of surprise flickered across his face before settling into a look of sweetness. Like someone you love saying something silly, something they would only say, and it’s just so them that you can't help but smile.

“I’m really glad you talked to me, Y/N. I’ve been uh,” Jungkook cleared his throat, and you swore you saw red grace the tip of his ears and nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

You beamed up at him. God, you really were in it, huh?

Your expression turned sheepish once more. “Do you think I, um…could I have your number? So we could do this again?” You asked hopefully.

You expected a yes or a no, but that wasn’t what you got.

Jungkook smiled, easy, but there was something more to it that you couldn’t place. Like he was worried.

“Don’t worry about that just yet. Now c’mon, it’s late and you’re freezing. Get to bed now, okay?”

Your hope wilted just a little. What kind of non-answer was that? Did he not have a fun time as well, despite what he said? You shook the negative feelings away and tried to just focus on what was happening now.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay. Well…Goodnight Jungkook.” You said, beginning to step away. Jungkook smiled at you, soft and warm. “Goodnight Y/N.”

You turned away, walking to your door- You were afraid that if you turned around, whatever spell would be broken and you would jump to him telling him exactly how you feel.

Opening the door to your apartment, you felt a buzz through the pocket of your pants. Unlocking your phone as you discarded your things, you saw an unread message from jktheironGiant.

jktheironGiant: I had a really fun time tonight, Y/N.

jktheironGiant: thank you.

The world felt like it dropped beneath your feet.

At the same time, everything clicked into place.

Your legs carried you in a sprint out the door.

JK. Jungkook.

You took the stairs two at a time.

His phone buzzed when I texted him at the cafe.

The door to the lobby flew open and you burst suddenly into the chilly winter night.

He loves banana milk. He comes in every day for one.

Your head whipped wildly around searching, seeing if he was still there. Off in the distance, a silhouette.

He told me to ask him on a walk.

Your muscles burned as you ran towards the silhouette, the dark hair of the man you loved slowly coming into sight.

They wanted him to tell me.

“Jungkook!” You yelled. He whipped around, a surprised expression on his face. Seeing you run towards him, the surprise mixed with obvious guilt.

Finally, you stood in front of him, trying to catch your breath.

“You.” You whispered. “It’s you.” Jungkook’s eyes were wider than ever. Guilt, happiness, every emotion swirled in the unreachable depths of his iris.

“It’s me.”

“JK,” You started, the name making his breath stutter. You took his hand. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

“I-”Jungkook started. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you until after we had met. I thought it was sweet how flustered you got, and I…I wanted to show you it wouldn’t be so hard to talk to me. It was fun joking with you and teasing you. I wanted to see you smile like that with me in real life too. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to-to manipulate you or, god, anything like that. I was having so much fun just being around you and I love you so much and-”

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” He responded breathlessly.

You flicked his arm. He yelped in surprise. “That’s for not telling me.”

But before either of you could wait another second, you stepped forward, forward, forward, close to Jungkook, to JK. Your hands came to rest on the sides of his face, and you looked into his deep brown eyes.

“I appreciate you wanting to see me smile. And I know jokes can get out of hand. You could’ve gone about it without not telling me who you were.” Guilt was evident in every line of Jungkook’s face but before he could utter another apology, you continued.

“That doesn’t stop me from loving you. All of you.”

And you kissed him.

You kissed him because you’d wanted to since before you knew about Jungkook. You kissed him because he needed to know that he made a mistake but you forgave him. You kissed him because he tasted like cherries and chocolate. His strong hands, those hands came up to rest on your waist, holding you close in the chill.

You parted for air, both panting. You could see your breath come out like smoke in the winter night.

“I love you.” He whispered like it was holy.

“I know.” You smiled, teasing him because you had a lot to catch up on.

He gave you that bright grin, and you beamed, and everything was okay.

It looks like Eros had really been looking out for you after all.

. end

please do not repost or discredit my work! you can also find it at Ao3 under kaminaridamacy, but ONLY there.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #x reader #fluff #fanfiction #writeblr #romance writing #bts #bts fanfiction #reader insert #bts reader #bts reader insert #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #theyre gamers #writing community

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exo-lovestay · 2 years

Text

Smoke

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt comfort???

Group/member: Stray kids Changbin

Summary: Changbin found out an old habit returned, breaking a promise you had sworn to keep.

Warnings: mentions of neglect/abuse, mentions of drugs, let me know if there’s anything else

Note: this was finished and partly proofread at like 3 am so if it has some problems we are gonna pretend it doesn’t lol

The headline stared back at you. You’d hoped you’d never see it. “Man released early on good behavior.” You scoffed, you wondered who he had to sleep with to make that happen. Your parents were two of a kind, truly, both addicts, one physically abusive, the other too damn high to tell the bruises he left on your skin weren’t birth marks. You’d left the second you had enough of an income to justify it. Over the years your mom had made attempts at getting sober, if that’s what you could call it, only to call you asking to meet up and make amends as reason yo butter you up for money. She always defended your father, saying she didn’t remember him hitting you and that you had an overactive imagination. She could tell that to the scars you still had. And she could kiss your ass while she was at it.

Your father had been arrested a few years ago for drug charges and assault. Of course god forbid they arrest him for child abuse when you spoke up once to a teacher. You learned fast to take care of yourself and trust no one.

So the fact that Changbin had weasled his way into your life, that still left you confused as hell. You didn’t even realize it had happened until he was halfway moved in. The two of you just worked, regardless of the fact that you were from two different lifestyles and backgrounds, it just worked. Somehow he took a hyper independent girl with enough baggage to fill an airplane and take over a space so big in her heart that if he had left, she wasn’t sure she would have a heart at all.

You barely heard the front door of your apartment click open,your head spinning, ‘Right on time.’ You thought as you rose form your bed.

“I’m home!” Changbin sang from the living room, you rounded the corner and watched as his smile took over his face. You smiled back, for moment you could feel the weeks traumas and pains pause.

“How was work?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into him.

“I don’t think i have enough words to describe it. Hard but productive and rewarding.” He chuckled.

“So the usual?”

“Pretty much, how was your day?” He placed a kiss on your forehead and then another on your mouth. His brow furrowed.

“Boring, I’m about-“

“Have you been smoking?” He cut you off. He kissed you again and you knew you were screwed. Of course you forgot to brush your teeth or hell, chew gum or something to mask it. He pulled away from you slightly, his eyes mixed with so many emotions you couldn’t get a read on what he felt but you knew he was not thrilled. You looked away from him nervously, biting your lip. You couldn’t lie to him but confessing was almost worse.

“Don’t lie to me. You promised this wasn’t happening again.” He stated. You could feel his fingers dig slightly into your hips as he awaited your response.

“It was just one cigarette, babe, it’s not a big deal.” You managed pathetically. He’s right, you did promise. But when shit curb stomps you sometimes you cope how you can.

“Not a big deal?!” His voice seemed to echo through the apartment, “Y/n you know damn well it is. Your doctor made it painfully clear how much of a risk it is for you to smoke anything and yet you apparently didn’t fuckin care. You are so lucky it didn’t trigger you.”

He pulled away and rested his head in his hands lightly, his palms rubbing his eyes as it processed.

“Well it didn’t trigger me.” You said bluntly. You knew how he felt on this but what would he know? He’s never had to handle the plate you have. He would be smoking too if the roles were reversed. “I just wanted to take the edge off, just lay off ok?”

He whirled around to you, “Lay off?? Last time you had an asthma attack that put you on a ventilator, and you want me to fucking lay off?!” His voice boomed now. You flinched as it hit your ears. Thinking back you aren’t sure you had ever seen him this angry, not at you at least. You felt your blood run cold at his volume, but your heart pounded and your brain did flips trying form a coherent response.. The two of you never fought like this, hearing his tone stung hard. You knew it wasn’t from the same place, you knew he wasn’t the others, he wasn’t your parents, they wouldn’t even come close to him..

“You aren’t obligated to care, Changbin. Things change, shit happens and god forbid i smoke one cigarette to process the shit show that is my life. Have you considered that the asthma isn’t the worst thing to have happened to me.”

“Have you considered that this isn’t just about you? You aren’t the only one being affected by your actions. There’s no obligation to care, I will whether you like it or not.” You knew he was right, every inch of you did but tell that to your fight or flight. Arguements set you off, years of abuse had changed the function of your brain and he knew this, and so the words he said didn’t matter when all you could think was ‘How fast can I put this wall up and run?’

You checked your watch, “you know what? I don’t have time for this. I have to go to work.” You said. He stopped when he saw your eyes. Even if your tone was frozen solid and your face unwavering your eyes had a fear he hadn’t seen before. He watched as you grabbed your keys and your bag and went fkr the door.

“Y/n wait,” he followed, his tone softer, “let me drive you.”

“Why, so you can smell the smoke on me more? I think I’ll just walk. Or will that trigger me too?” You internally punched yourself. You hadn’t spit venom like this to him. You slammed the door behind you, not pausing to look at him because you knew what you said was against everything you worked for as a couple. You had worked so hard to learn to communicate better, he helped you understand him and gave you the words you needed to advocate for yourself when you felt trapped.

But now? You knew you crossed a line. You fucked up. He was right and you knew it, how selfish could you have been to have risked your health instead of just telling him these things. Honestly you forgot you even smoked it. Your brain was so clouded that your body worked on auto pilot. Your mother had always come to find you when her parole was up. What was stopping your father?

But Changbin didn’t know that. How could he? It was your job to communicate these things and instead you put yourself at risk and snapped. Last time you smoked you almost died and he had to care for you. You knew how terrified he had been, so why was that not taken into consideration when you put the cigarette to your lips?

You shook as you walked. He had standards for his relationships, he always said he knew when to leave and when something stopped serving him. Any sane person would leave you now too.

Surprisingly you weren’t that late to work. Thankfully your coworkers seemed to know you weren’t in the mood to talk so they didn’t pry despite your entire demeanor being off. You worked harder today than you probably ever had. Once you had kicked smoking, pouring yourself into your work was your coping mechanism of choice whenever shit hit the fan. You weren’t a bad worker on good days by any means, but today your boss told you more than once that you had exceeded any expectations they could have set. On a good day this would have thrilled you but today it fell on deaf ears and a numb heart.

It went fast though. Your shift came and went, you clocked out and as you stepped out under the front awning you cursed under your breath. It was pouring rain. You didn’t think to grab an umbrella in your haste, Changbin always picked you up from work unless he had something come up but he would always arrange a ride. He never let you walk home, especially not in the rain and especially not at night. But why would he come now? With the way you spoke to him, you half expected him to have packed and left. After all, everyone else you had been with had done so, even if you weren’t the one yelling in the first place. Sometimes, when some had stayed, you wish they left instead.

Tears stung your eyes, god you had fucked up. Finally you had someone who poured into you without expecting anything. Someone who listened and was gentle and cared. For a good while you felt like you were being pranked, because really, your track record of shit stains is short but brutal. Most didn’t get physical but they didn’t have too. It’s like half were personally trained to scar you in the most effective way. But changbin took those scars and turned them into little strokes of art. He healed parts you hadn’t realized were broken and filled spots you didn’t know where empty. Sure, th two of you had argued before, every couple has, but early on he made it clear what he expected in a disagreement and what you should expect of him. He didn’t yell, which if you knew Changbin, his normal volume was set to “annoy the hard of hearing” but the second the tone was serious, he handled it softly. He expressed how he felt, he listened to you and repeated it back to make sure he understood right. He taught you how to communicate with respect. Through him your fight or flight turned off for the first time, well, ever.

You knew he was different. But he had his limits too. And he deserved far better than what you had to offer. He shouldn’t be with someone who makes him worry like this. Who puts themselves at risk for serious medical emergencies just because they lack self control and healthy coping. And he certainly doesn’t deserve to be treated how he was.

So when your eyes met his across the parking lot you froze. He stood there leaning against his black car, an umbrella in hand. He smiled softly and jogged lightly over to meet you.

“You came?” You said, your voice mixed with surprise, confusion and relief. His brow furrowed slightly at your question, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Y/n of course I came, i always do. You think I’d let you walk home when it’s raining enough to swim in?” He chucked lightly. His eyes scanned over your face. You could see the tiredness in his eyes and the stress written in his features.

“But after everything I said to you, after how i treated you … why did you stay?” Your eyes avoided his, you knew you wouldn’t last if you looked at him.

“Why did I stay?! Babe did you think I was going to leave just because you yelled at me?” He asked, rubbing circles into your jacket. He sighed deeply, “I know you well enough to know that there’s something else going on I don’t know about. Or I didn’t at least. I found the article on the bed when I went to change.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. You forgot to hide it before you left. Changbin knew your past, but you still hated when he saw it. It was messy and ugly and hard to deal with and embarrassing as hell.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, why was he the one apologizing, “I know how hard that must have hit you. It’s no wonder you cracked.” His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned in involuntarily.

“Anyone in their right mind would have left me by now.” You blurted, hot tears escaped your eyes that fixated anywhere but him.

“Hey look at me,” he said softly, his hand guiding your jaw gently. His eyes were soft and warm, a deep furrow n his brow that you knew he did when you were particularly upset at something and he couldn’t beat the shit out of it. “Let me make this clear, even if i hadn’t found the article, I’d have stayed. Even if your dad showed up again and pissed on my clothes I’d have stayed. Even if you chain smoked an entire pack and wound up in the hospital, I’d have glued myself to you and then handed your ass to you on a platter when you got better, but I’d have stayed. Your baggage doesn’t scare me Y/n, neither does your temper or trauma responses. Losing you does. The second i tasted that smoke I felt like i was back in the hospital with the nurses trying to gently tell me that the combo of the asthma attack you had and the residue smoke in your lungs sent them in to overdrive and now you weren’t breathe on your own.” His thumb wiped a tear from your cheek, his own eyes threatening to break. “My biggest fear is losing you. It’s sounds so cliche but i was starting to pick where your grave plot would be and how to reserve two so I’d be with you. I’m in this with you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and cried softly and he rested his against yours. “Do you believe me?”

You nodded softly, “I am so sorry I yelled at you. And for saying what I said. I should have just told you when i found out. And i know better than to smoke, i just had found a pack with two left at the wrong moment and caved. I had no idea what else to, it felt so overwhelming to even think of his being out. My head was spinning, but that doesn’t mean i Can treat you like my dad would when he got bad news.”

“You aren’t your father, baby, never have you ever shown him in you. It’s a miracle someone like you can come from those two. I should have asked what brought you to that point before jumping to conclusions and yelling first. I know you wouldn’t have done it normally. I’m sorry too.” You placed a few quick kisses onto his lips and wrapped your arms around him, causing him to lace his free arm around the small of your back and pull you to him.

“I will never be able to show you how incredible you are, but I’ll die trying Changbin.” You smiled, even in the dark you could see his cheeks turn pink. “I love you an ungodly amount.”

“I love you too.” He kissed you, “i understand if you aren’t ready to talk about this yet, and I’ll understand with anything like this, but always find me and lean on me. You are safe with me ok?”

“Ok.” You chuckled, “Let’s go home?”

“Let’s go home,”

#stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #angst #fluff #hurt comfort #skz hurt comfort #skz angst #skz fluff #changbin #seo changbin

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diabeticallyhere · 1 year

Text

Once again thinking about all the things that go into diabetes as a chronic illness that I’m always thinking about:

Do I have my glucometer with me? If I don’t, where is it? Do I have a bag to carry all of my stuff in? Do I have enough carbs in that bag in case I go low a couple times, just in case? Do I have gum or something non-carby to chew on in the meantime if my numbers are high and I want to eat? When is the last time I gave insulin? Is my number high because I didn’t do a blood sugar in the middle of the night? Do I have a water bottle if I’m really high? Did I make sure to give insulin this morning? If I didn’t, how long until I start feeling it? Did I remember to bring my extra test strips with me? Did I remember to bring my extra insulin with me? If I didn’t, what’s the likelihood I could save my insulin for later if I really need to, and just be high and brain-foggy in the meantime? If my pen needle is bloody, do I have more with me? Am I so stressed today that it’ll affect my numbers? If I didn’t bring my long-acting insulin on the trip with me, how much extra insulin do I need to give per meal to even it out so I’m not high for [number of] days? Did I remember to set an alarm for doing a blood sugar again? If we go out to eat with food I don’t know the carb amounts of, will I be able to estimate correctly? If I start eating in public because I’m low, will I be coherent enough to explain what’s going on? If it’s really an emergency and I’m out of test strips/insulin/etc, do I have enough money and resources to buy some out of pocket? Am I tired because it’s the afternoon and I worked today, or because I’m low? Am I overwhelmed because there’s a lot going on, or because I’m high, or because I’m low? Am I emotional because I’m tired, or because I’m low, or because I’m high? Am I overreacting? Am I sure I gave enough insulin for everything? Am I sure I’m doing this right?

#t1d #mine #okay to reblog #diabetes burnout #burnout

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magicxc · 11 months

Text

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music, and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Halloween they’ll never forget, proving that "the scare" is more than just a fantasy.

Word Count: 3845

Warnings: Talks of Killings, Implied Murder, Nothing Too Graphic for This Chapter

Chapter 1 - Emery's POV

Series Masterlist

10 years later

Good morning Santa Monica, this is Sienna Ramirez coming to you live from Brentwood. It’s Friday October 31st as the time reads 8:32 a.m. and behind me here, is believed to be the most recent murder scene of The Resident Reaper; named after their ability to seamlessly integrate into communities, where heinous crimes are sure to follow.

Fingernails clamped between chattering teeth is the latest bad habit I’ve picked up. It isn’t until my teeth chew through the nail that I manage to force my hand away from my mouth and atop my bouncing knee, while the other reaches for the remote; fingers tracing over the buttons until the volume increases.

Authorities are unsure of whether today's latest casualty is that of The Resident Reaper but can confirm that it matches their murder method of death by strangulation. Just a few months ago, The Reaper’s seventh victim was found at a rest stop near the border of Arizona where the body was discovered some hours later. For the past 4 years, homicide cases have popped up in states lining the historical route 66 where authorities believe California may just be their last stop. Given that the prior victims didn’t fit a particular profile, ranging from men and women of all ages and ethnicities, law officials state that it’s difficult to tell who’s most at risk, but better yet the gender of the person behind these strings of monstrosities.

The remote being snatched out of my hand scares me shitless and a shriek bursts into the quiet air, hands clutching my chest until I slowly remembered that Lynn slept over the night before.

“Enough of this Em,” she pleaded, muting the tv. “You’ll send yourself crazy watching this shit.”

“It’s the news.”

“Oh you know what I mean,” she huffed.

“Lynn,” I croaked. “Every time I close my eyes, my mind races with a thousand thoughts of how it could’ve been ME at that fucking rest stop.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“I can barely sleep most nights and the thought of being alone in this house makes my chest tight,” I sobbed. “Gum isn’t the same for me anymore and the once peaceful patter of raindrops fills me with dread.”

Eyes crinkled in confusion, Lynn carefully sits next to me on the bed, a protective arm cradled around my shoulder as she rubs it soothingly asking, “what's wrong with chewing gum?”

“I had just wrapped up my trip to New Mexico, opting to drive back home for a more scenic view to clear my head.”

“You don’t have to,” Lynn mumbled.

“I need to,” I insisted, shoulders slouched as I stared at nothing in particular.

“I was four hours into my drive with enough pent up energy to push through the last three. It was nightfall and pouring rain, which was rather soothing, but I was on the verge of pissing myself.”

Silent tears streaming down my cheeks has me furiously wiping at them, inhaling deep breaths before continuing my story.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t hold it any longer, I passed a rest stop sign letting me know it’d be a quarter of a mile out. So I finally get there and there’s two other cars parked outside, which was a little too empty for my liking.”

Tilting my head toward her, I blurted “do you ever get the gut feeling that something is off? Lynn I swear the rain hammered down even harder as I sat there, with lightning spooking me silly. It was almost as if it were a warning.”

Fiddling with her fingers, Lynn proposes that sometimes our bodies know when something is wrong before our mind has the time to catch up.

Nodding in agreement, I go on to get this shit off my chest once and for all.

“Before I have time to decide anything, my legs are hurling toward the entrance and into the stall. The bathroom is surprisingly clean and puts me to a slight ease as I'm finally able to relieve myself. I wash up and use my hands as a makeshift umbrella while I sprint back to the car. As I’m running, I see this hooded figure strolling toward the bathroom. That's weird right? It's raining cats and dogs and they’re just taking their sweet ole time getting to shelter?”

“Maybe getting wet isn’t a problem for some people,” she suggests.

“Ehh”

“Still a little off putting tho,” she voiced carefully.

Clicking my tongue, I continued “the whole thing was odd, and to top it all off, I saw a brown bubble and heard the unmistakable sound of gum popping just as I ran past them.

“Finally making it to my car, I cranked the engine and peeled the fuck out of there, my nerves settling the further away I got; but to be honest with you, I just chucked it up to late night jitters. It wasn’t until I heard the news the next day that I felt sick to my stomach,” I whimpered. “I looked death in the eye that night and walked away unscathed, but for how long until it finally catches up to me huh? I feel so paranoid somedays, I wish it would’ve been me.”

“HEY, NO,” Lynn shouts. “Don’t you ever, Em don’t you ever dream of saying some shit like that again.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it,” I broke. “But who knows if that deranged motherfucker thinks I can identify them? I swear it feels like I'm just counting down the days til the inevitable.”

Embracing me she chided, “I swear on my life I’ll never let that happen. We’ll hire every sketch artist in town if it means plastering that bitches face on every tv network available.” Pulling away, Lynn continued, “I know in the moment there’s so much going on that it’s easy to confuse the details. But usually once enough time has passed after a traumatic event, we can begin to piece everything together. So, after all this time, do you think you could make them out?”

“No,” I sighed. “It was dark, rainy, and I sprinted right past them, just barely glimpsing their face.”

“Could you at least tell if it were a man or woman?”

“No Lynn, my story hasn’t changed and neither has my memory. They were wearing a hoodie, were tall, slender, and of fair skin. That’s all I got.”

“Hmm, so that narrows it down to about 60% of Cali.”

“Pftt, who you telling?”

“Listen, I’m down for you healing in whichever way you feel necessary, shit I’m practically moved in, but I cannot watch you self-destruct like this,” she says waving the remote in the air. “Unless they’re telling us exactly who to look for, no more binge watching this assholes' increasing kill streak, ok?”

“Ok, but can I at least finish the rest of the news?”

“Emmmm,” she groans.

Snatching the remote from her hand, I press the button to unmute the tv, quickly grabbing the batteries from the back and tossing them in different corners of the room to buy me more time.

Her annoyed screech has me fighting back laughter as she climbs off the bed in search of the batteries. I know she means well, but being that close to the Resident Reaper has had me on edge for months. And who knows, somehow by me watching the news, I feel like something might come to me. Maybe they’ll get sloppy enough to leave a clue behind and it’ll be something that I overlooked that night. Just anything to put me at ease and that peasant behind bars.

Police Captain Van Gogh and her troops are working tirelessly to bring this homicidal maniac to justice, however as we roll into the late hours of the holiday night, authorities are urging everyone to stay vigilant, drink responsibly, and party earlier. My name is Sienna Ramirez, signing off for the night and until next time, Happy Halloween.

“I missed it.”

“Good,” Lynn screams from under the bed.

In a huff of frustration, she gets up and unplugs the tv from the wall; as I plop onto the sheets, eyes glued to the ceiling.

“What’s so odd about brown gum?” she inquires. “There’s tons of flavors out there, why did the brown one throw you off?”

Leaning up on my elbows, I ask “when have you seen a brown gum ever? Is that really the first pack you’re reaching for? A shit flavored chewing gum?”

“Points were made,” she conceded. “But hey, enough of this boogey bitch. Lorenzo’s hosting tonight’s Halloween party up at his parents lake house and I think it’ll serve as a great distraction for the next few hours.”

“Didn’t you hear Sienna,” I retorted, “she said to party earlier and it’s already noon.”

“Emery, this party is gonna be chocked full of people we know,” she deadpans. “And besides, the Resident Reaper can’t catch us all, can they?”

“Points were made.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. “And if it’ll make you feel any better, we can triple up on the buddy system, so rather than two people, we can do groups of three and make it a real challenge for that motherfucker.”

“God, I love you,” I breathe out.

“I love you too. Now get up and get dressed because I have a few last minute things I need to get for my costume.”

“You’re going as Daphne, what else could you possibly need other than a purple dress and scarf.”

“I’m going to accessorize,” she sighed. “God, sometimes it’s tough being the only fashion forward one. And plus I need to pick up a few things for Jason, he’s going as Fred.

Rolling my eyes, “ahh so we’re finally worthy enough to meet your boy toy huh?”

“Em he’s not like the rest, I really like this one,” she gushed. “Now, get your ass in the shower.”

“Aye aye captain,” I said dryly, giving a salute.

|~~

I’m who every nigga wife fear, thick-thighed nightmare, I’m the boogie bitch ho I’m every nigga type yeah.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, it’s clear that Lorenzo’s party is in full effect and as I glance down at my costume, groaning in annoyance that I’ve let them talk me into this.

“Don't even think about it,” Lynn protested. “Besides, it’s too late to change.”

“Girl, whose dumbass idea was this anyway?”

“C’mon now, I thought it was cute and everyone else agreed.”

“I mean we could’ve chosen literally anyone else,” I insisted. “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was right there. You know green is my color.”

“Turn this on,” she hissed, pointing to her head. “There’s five of us in total.”

“Rude.”

“Slow! Besides, a turtle? Girl be for fucking real and glad as hell that you didn’t have to be Scooby.”

“Be gLaD yOu DiDn’T hAvE tO bE sCoObY,” I mimicked. “Bitch where the fuck ya nigga at?”

As if on cue a hand slams against the window of the car, startling us and giving me a mini freaking heart attack.

Breath fogging against the windows, the only thing I can make out is an upturned smile on the other side as my hand quickly pushes on the lock button. A light chuckle from beside me has my head twisting until I finally put two and two together, wet palms rubbing down my skirt to alleviate some of the sweat.

“Ahh, so this must be Jason,” I asked, thumb pointing in the direction of the glass.

A giddied yelp as she exits the car and jumps into his arms is all the answer I need, eyes rolling as I watch them swap dna. Stepping out of the car, I cleared my throat eager to meet the man whose had my friend dickmatized for the past couple of weeks.

“Ohh sorry Em,” Lynn giggles, swiping at his mouth to remove any lingering lipstick. “This is Jason, Jason Emery,” she gestures toward the both of us.

“Nice to meet you, sugars told me a lot about you Emery.”

“Sugar?”

“Yes, sugar,” he repeats. “I like to call her that cause she’s so sweet.”

The sound that slips from Lynns lips has me holding back my own laughter, shocked that such a noise could come from her. And it’s then that I realised that my girl is whipped. But they must still be in the honeymoon phase cause just like that I don’t exist anymore and they’re back to sucking each other's face off.

Another clearing of the throat seems to bring them back and we all finally agree to head inside.

Stepping through the threshold, I see bodies everywhere and I must give credit to some of these amazing costumes. The bass from the music has my heart thumping and for the first time in a long time I feel the shackles of fear loosen up, my body at ease as I eye all the familiar faces. Making my way over to Shaggy, I scream the lyrics to the rest of the song, feeling every bit of turnt in this atmosphere.

Say my name like candyman and bitch you know I'm there, these hoes wished they saw me when they looking in the mirror.

Red bottoms on my feet, bloody mary on my toes, every time I pop out it get scary for you hoes.

At some point throughout, I found myself throwing ass to the green goblin and as the song wraps up, it seems the mystery gang's all here.

“Ayeee, and to think you didn’t even wanna be Velma,” Steph screams in my ear. “Meanwhile you wear her so well. Of course I would've done it better.”

“Well woof woof bitch, I see you rock Scooby just as good,” I countered. “Pick a longer straw next time and you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“Hey, hey, hey, all my bitches bad,” Lorenzo yelled. “No need to get spicy.”

“I must say, your pick was spot on Lenny,” Steph hooted. “Cause much like Shaggy, your ass stays high.”

“Well life often imitates art.”

“I don't think that’s how it goes.”

“Everyone shut the fuck up and meet my heart in human form,” Lynn screams over our conversation, wrapped in Jasons arms, his face buried between her neck.

“Ahh so this is the infamous Jason, run while you still can,” Lorenzo jokes, dapping him up.

Staring daggers through him, Lynn goes through introductions, handshakes get thrown in the mix, and Julez interrupts our greetings, oddly enough dressed as Scrappy Doo. She goes on to call us shit friends for leaving her out of the equation, but adds how she “managed to find something last minute anyway.”

Julez is what I’d call a floater. She drifts from friend group to friend group and while we’ve always been cool, she’s never really been as close with us as we are with each other. She’s always had her own thing going on and I can respect that. Come to think of it, she wasn’t invited because she was supposedly in Atlanta on a business trip. Whatever! Apologies get thrown around and we focus back on the conversation at hand.

“So where did y’all meet?” Lorenzo asks.

“In the coffee shop,” Lynn gushed.

“Go on,” Julez urged.

“I ordered my usual as I do everyday, and like most days I was running a little late for work except I had a presentation that morning so I couldn’t just stroll in at my usual time” she continued. “So I’m hightailing it out of there and I bump into this brick wall smelling fresh out of heaven.”

“Ohh what cologne were you wearing?” Steph interrupts. “I don't think my brother will appreciate another tie set this Christmas.”

“Well it became coffee scented real quick,” Jason chuckled.

A sea of groans sounded with everyone wincing at the idea, while Lynn nodded in faux concern.

“So lemme get this straight,” I blurted out. “Lynn spills coffee all over you at like 9 in the morning and the first thing you think to do is exchange numbers?”

“No no no Em, so get this,” Lynn explains. “I ran to get some napkins and started apologizing profusely until he grabbed both my hands, pleaded for me to relax, and suggested that I make it up to him with a lunch date.”

“Her treat of course, I mean it was only right” he jokes.

“Ahh boy, you’ve got a funny one.”

“No need for sarcasm Julez, that was actually cute,” Steph pointed out.

“Well gang, it was nice to meet you all,” Jason waved to us. “But I think it's about time we split up.”

And with that they left, hand in hand. I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little jealous. I think it’s always bittersweet when one of your close friends gets into a relationship and you no longer have the same access to them as you once did. But green-eyed monster aside there’s something about him that seems a little off, though I can’t quite put my finger on it just yet.

“What’s going on up there?” Julez questioned, tapping my temple.

“Nothing really, I’m just meeting him the same as you are.”

“Well he seems pretty cool, though only time will tell huh?”

“That right there Lenny, and he’s fine, I’ll give her that,” Steph adds.

“Can we also add sweet talking to that list,” I butt in. “So get this, ole lover boy calls her ‘sugar’.”

A round of laughter cuts through the music, each of us dying at the thought but even I can admit that shits kinda cute.

“That’s military men for you, mark my words they’ll be married by Christmas,” Julez assured us.

“Military? How the hell did you find that out?”

“I googled his ass Lorenzo, how else?!”

“We just met the motherfucker, what do you mean?”

“Lenny, we’ve been knowing his name though,” Julez retorts. “You’d be amazed what you can find out with the google search engine, like the fact that he’s served two tours in Iran.”

“Jinkies, what are you, the FBI?” I asked, fully intrigued. “But what else did you find out?”

“Yeah, and why didn’t you tell us?”

“Oh Steph, not you too?” Lenny cried. “You know what I don’t even wanna know. I’m off to find that sexy ass bunny I saw earlier.”

“Aye ladies, let's do this later yeah? I came here for a good time not a long time,” Julez raved.

“Alright fine, but tomorrow I want full deets bitch,” Steph warned.

“I got you, but as of now I need another drink like four drinks ago. And speaking of, y’all should try the Jekyll and Gin next to the punch bowl; shit they need to call it puppy power cause my ass hasn’t stopped moving yet.”

“Yeah or talking,” Steph muttered.

“And then there were two,” I noted.

“Uhh more like one, I have to flag down that fine ass Captain America I saw earlier.”

These bitches really left me, and to think I - ohhh, damn even in real life Spiderman can’t commit to shielding his identity. Not that Im complaining cause that boy is fine as fuck. Shit maybe tonight instead of shooting webs, he can shoot his cum down my throat.

“Ayo Miles Morales, come here boy.”

|~~

“Oh my gosh, how the hell did we manage to get roped into helping you cleannnnnn,” Lynn complained.

“Guys we’ve been doing this since highschool, why are y’all acting brand new?”

“Dammit Lenny, I should’ve left while I had the chance.”

“Steph you’ve been drinking all night, how the hell were you planning on getting home without driving?” Lorenzo countered.

“And as ritual would have it, I assume we’re all sleeping here then?” I asked.

“See, Em gets it and I got the guest room all set up for you guys.”

“Two rooms, five people. That gives us about 2-3 persons to each room,” Jason proposed. “Sugar and I are more than willing to squeeze one more in.”

“No, the hell we’re not,” she whispered.

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean five people? Where the fuck is Julez?” Steph barked.

“That sneaky bitch, she’s probably halfway back to the A right now,” Lynn suggests.

“I mean the guest room is big enough right Steph, why don’t we let those three have it while you and I catch up for old times sake?” Lorenzo recalled.

“NIGGA THAT WAS ONE TIME.”

“Well I, for one, am not sleeping on the couch again so Lenny and Steph, no funny business please,” I stressed.

For a while I really thought Steph and Lenny would be endgame; that the constant flirting and bickering was just their way of expressing feelings. But in a weird way, I'm glad that it didn’t work out, shit the group is at peace because of it really; well as peaceful as peaceful can get. Those stubborn sons of bitches would surely find a way to make things awkward with us if things ever went sour between them.

Dragging the trash bag across the floor, I chuck it in the corner and take a seat on the window sill; retiring from my duty as trash collector for the night.

“Lenny, you know I'm down to help clean, but I'm pretty sure we can do this tomorrow,” I yawned.

“Yeah man, I’m no lightweight but even I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“J’s right Lenny, we can finish this off tomorrow.”

“No we can’t Lynn, my parents are gonna be back here first thing in the morning and I need this place in pristine fucking condition,” Lorenzo snarled.

“Well why would your dumbass host it here at the lake house then,” Steph screeched.

Leaning my head against the window pane, their bickering becomes a distant noise that fades into the background, eye lashes steadily fluttering against my face; sleep begging me to surrender.

The waves in the lake bring such serenity, the way they gently crash against one another, gracefully creating ripple after ripple. My eyes drift across the water that’s become my own personal lullaby, but it’s interrupted by floating debris. Frustration rears its ugly head at the disturbance, eyes squinting in confusion at the silhouette I see.

Sitting up further, my hands hastily reach for the glass, firmly pressed against it; brows snapped together in confusion as realisation flashes across my face. Denial grasps me in its clutches, fingernails painfully scratching against the window until the debris floats closer, revealing a face that brings my worst fear to life.

Hands balled into fists, they beat against the window. Angry, hot tears cloud my vision as they stream down my cheeks all the while strong arms grab at my fists to stop their assault. It isn’t until I hear the choir of concerned gasps and shhh’s that it dawns on me that the piercing scream is indeed coming from me. I fight against their clutches, arms swinging at whoever is in sight until I find myself pinned to the ground, my friends begging me to tell them what’s wrong.

“Julez,” I hiccup as I point to the window. “It’s fucking Julez. They’ve found me.”

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #SpookySzn #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Shit Just Got Real #Walk With Me #Hills and Valleys #Horror

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