#I’ve been re reading this all day and smiling to myself

[spidertams]

HELLO!! aug rhis is gonna sound so sappy but like, your art is so.... nostalgia, like nostalgia in a little package i can eat.... and like i am stealing it and chewing on it like mochi thank you very much

IT’S NOT SAPPY AT ALL I strive for my art to feel like watching your favorite old animated show and finding out it has aged well… thank you so much for your kind words!!!

[chuuyascumsock]

Hop On That Delulu Train Bestie || Minors DNI

Summary: HOOOLY S H I T. WHY. DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? May you all find peace one day and cure your chronic horniness and delusions for men who would never want you irl <3 (Just like me fr). Anyways, this has been sitting and gathering cobwebs for weeks now, but I’ve decided to finish it in honor of chapter 109. Keep being delulu babe.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Soft Dom Dazai, Fingering, Cunnilingus (Why Is That Such A Silly Word), Pussy IS Therapy Ig, He Just Seems Like An Avid Pussy Eater Idk, Would Definitely Use Your Thighs As Earmuffs, Sorry Y’all Don’t Get The Dick <3, I Was Too Lazy To Turn This Into A Full Smut.

The quiet hum of a low light lamp buzzes through your ears as your eyes flicker over the words to the page mindlessly. Reading was boring, watching television was boring, everything was boring.

You look over to the clock on your nightstand and let out a loud sigh. Nearly midnight and he had still yet to walk through the door as he usually does and smother you with sweet nothings and soft kisses. Your gaze falls back onto your book, the romance novel glaring back with the most dull descriptions and irritating plot. You shut the book, tossing it aside as you groan and knock your head back against the headboard of your bed.

Picking up your phone that sits on the nightstand dresser, you note the empty screen with no obnoxious texts from a certain brunette. It was almost worrying not seeing his name on your lock screen with a bunch of random emojis spammed next to it. Unlocking your phone, you re-read your last text sent to him nearly two hours ago— asking when he’d be home.

You start to wonder if he’s late because of another failed suicide attempt, but you quickly let the thought pass when you finally hear the front door open. It closes almost silently, muffled footsteps growing closer to your room. Your eyes focus on your door frame as Dazai finally steps in, his clothes disheveled and hair messy.

“ ‘Samu…” You murmur, slightly taken aback at his appearance.

His warm brown eyes travel over to the bed where you lay and a small smile curls onto his lips as he shuffles over and climbs onto your side of the bed, his face and upper body planting atop of your legs. He heavily inhales before exhaling, his hot breath blowing against the skin of your thighs. Subconsciously, one of your hands makes its way into his hair and begins to comb through his tangled tresses. His arms wrap around under your legs and lock them in place.

“My love…” He whispers back, his body relaxing on you as his feet hang over the bottom edge of the bed. He kicks his shoes off and allows them to thump to the ground.

“You didn’t answer my text, something happen?” Your brows scrunch together in concern.

Dazai sighs, pressing a light kiss against your thigh, “My phone was in my pocket during a shoot out and it was sadly destroyed.”

You wait for him to make a joke about wishing the bullet went through his skull instead, but it never comes to your surprise. “Oh… Well, I guess we can go look for a new one tomorrow then.” You finish unknotting his hair with your fingers as a moment of silence settles over the both of you before you add, “I’m guessing today was rough then?”

He hums in return, enjoying the way your hand runs through his hair affectionately. “Kunikida made me do my paperwork,” He pouts, his chin coming to rest on your thighs to look up at you.

You briefly laugh, patting his head before speaking with a mock-sympathetic tone, “Aw, my poor baby…”

He huffs, burying his face back into the plush of your thighs, “You don’t sound very genuine, that’s very mean you know… He’s always bullying me around.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that whatever shit Kunikida gives Dazai— he deserves every bit of it for his shenanigans. You’ve only met him a few times as well as Dazai’s other co-workers, but it was safe to say that if anyone was being bullied— it was that poor bastard, Kunikida. “Oh, really? And you don’t bother the hell out of him until he loses his shit?” You stop running your hand through his hair.

Dazai gasps, overdramatically, of course, “I would never! Kunikida is my respectable co-worker who I value and treat with the utmost—“

“Then why do I get calls from him begging me: “For the love of God, please come get your terrorizing bastard of a boyfriend, I can’t do it anymore.” Huh?”

Cue another gasp, “You’re talking to other men?! Kunikida no less!?”

You roll your eyes, “It was originally because he called me to come get you every time you decided to take a dip in the canal, now it’s a complaint hotline for you.” You poke an index finger against his forehead firmly.

“Owie…” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead, bottom lip jutting out.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” You grumble, staring down at him, “I deserve a medal for putting up with your shenanigans.”

“Isn’t my love enough?” Dazai whines, making puppy eyes at you.

A sigh leaves your lips, “Yeah… You’re lucky you’re cute.”

His lips quirk up back into a smile and he nuzzles his face back against your skin, placing small kisses to your thighs.You don’t really keep count, but it takes a few pecks until he gently nips at your thigh.

“Hey—“ You squeak, pushing at his head which causes him to chuckle, “You’re doing that on purpose.”

The kisses on your thighs grow sloppy before he moves his arms from around your legs to nudge them apart, his body fitting between your legs. He quickly maneuvers your thighs until the backs of your thighs press against the tops of his shoulders, arms wrapping around your legs to keep you against him. “What? I’m just getting comfortable, my love.” He plays off innocently, his cheek squishing against one of your thighs as he looks up at you.

Your brows furrow, heat crawling up your neck as you glare back suspiciously, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And is it a bad thing?” He chimes back, going back to kissing your thighs.

You shiver, feeling his wet lips leave a trail of saliva to air along the insides of your thighs, “You know I’m—“

“Sensitive? Yeah,” He trails off with a noise that sounds like a groan mixed with a hum.

At this point, you feel a tingle crawl up your spine and warmth spread across your face. A fuzziness begins to form in your mind as his lips grow closer to the edge of your sleep shorts.

He pauses when he gets to your shorts, his face pulling away and his hands coming to tug at the hem of your shorts. “Want these off,” He mumbles, pulling at them.

You’re quick to lift your hips and slip your shorts down your legs, Dazai’s hands fumbling along yours to throw them to the side. He buries his face between your legs once more to press his lips along your inner thighs until he reaches your underwear. His face pushes forward until his lips press against your cunt and nose nudges your clit through the thin fabric.

A strangled moan passes your lips as he meets your flustered gaze, and although you can’t see his mouth with it pressed against you— you can tell he’s smirking through his eyes.

He softly breathes in before placing a searing kiss against your clothed pussy, causing your thigh to slightly twitch in his grasp. “I missed this pretty little pussy— haven’t tasted it in days,” He groans before bringing a finger to pull your underwear aside and reveal your glossy folds to him. His gaze is greedy as he parts your folds with two fingers, mouth watering at your slicked insides.

“Don’t stare…”

“Awe, but I can’t help it— looks so good,” Dazai breathes out before leaning forward to slip his tongue flat between your spread folds, licking up to your clit to collect your taste on his tongue. “Tastes good too…” He groans, lapping his tongue through for a second time, “I could spend the whole day eating this pussy out until you’re quivering and begging for me to stop.”

A strung-out whimper escapes your throat as you watch him. Heat burns the nape of your neck, the dizzy feeling hitting you twice as hard as your eyelids lull.

Dazai is shameless in his sucking and slurping of lips and tongue against your dripping cunt as loudly as possible. He doesn’t hold back any of his needy groans and muffled whimpers as he tastes every drop of arousal you have to offer. He strains painfully against the confines of his pants as he holds back the urge to fold you in half and fuck you on his cock until your drooling cunt is filled to the brim with his cum.

His tongue delves into your tight hole, the warm muscle wriggling against your clenching walls before sliding out. After repeating the process a few times, he moves to suck at your throbbing clit, sighing at the way it pulses against his tongue. There’s a small ‘pop’ when he pulls away reluctantly to replace his mouth with his lengthy, thin fingers.

“I love the way you squirm under my touch— drives me crazy— you know that?” Dazai grins before sinking a finger into your wet hole.

An airy gasp leaves your lips as you try to move away from him in surprise, only to have his grip tighten around your thigh with his free hand. “ ‘Samu, I—“ Your fingers clench into the sheets on the bed.

“I know, my love— feel good?” He borderline coos, eyes glued to the way you sucked his finger back in with every pump. “I bet it does, your fingers just don’t reach like mine, do they?” He adds a second finger, his digits curving into your gummy sweet spot.

Your hips involuntarily buck in to meet his thrusting fingers, your pussy squelching around his lithe digits. He leers at the obscene image of your sweet cunt swallowing his fingers down to the knuckle with a lewd moan.

“Good girl, keep fucking yourself on my fingers like that,” He croons, leaning forward to suck at your puffy clit again.

Surges of pleasure rampage within you as you clamp your shaking thighs around his head, grinding your aching pussy against his mouth and fingers. “M’gonna come, s’too much—“ You whimper.

“Come on my tongue— wanna feel that pussy clench around my fingers,” Dazai muffles a groan against your sensitive clit which has you coming undone and vehemently shivering from the feeling of your climax.

Dazai slides his fingers out of your pulsing hole and presses his tongue against your drenched pussy as you ride out your orgasm— his tongue not missing a single drip of arousal. He sighs quietly when he’s finished and pulls away, your bare sex covered in merely his spit now.

With your chest heaving from the aftermath, your head weakly shifts to watch Dazai sit up on his knees and hover over. “ ‘S-Samu…”

“Shh, I know, my love,” He laughs softly— and you think he’s going to redress you before cuddling into you like he usually does, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand trails down to unzip his pants, the tip of his pre-cum leaking cock peeking out of his waistband. He pushes both his pants and boxers to his mid thighs before stroking his hard cock.

“You’re tired, so why don’t you just lay back and let me fuck that pretty pussy to sleep, hm?”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Baby Blues

Pairing: John Price x Female Reader

Synopsis: The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnaped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: allusions to intimacy, kidnapping, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluff

A/N: The lack of John fics is saddening to the degree that I’ve been forced to write one myself. Don’t expect anything good, in fact, I think everything I've written is horrible, but this is the only way the voices in my head would shut up. Enjoy.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You suppose that you’ll never fully recall what happened after the front door got busted off its hinges, but the events leading up to the heart-stopping instance are more clear than crystal.

Just that morning you had woken up to an empty bed for the sixth day in a row, light streaming in from behind the drawn curtains. Your chest had been tight as you stretched your arms above your head; attempting to shake the fatigue from your body that you knew wouldn’t leave. It was a shame you had fallen for a man who was gone so often and for so long – you never slept well without John by your side, and you missed his habit of drawing you into his strong chest while small mumbles would fall from his lips; nuzzling your hair. But, mostly, you missed drifting off to his heartbeat in your ear.

His hand on your thigh was the better version of a weighted blanket.

But now he was off somewhere that you didn’t have the privilege of knowing – he could be just down the street and you would be none the wiser – leaving you here in his home in London, adamantly waiting for him to return. You always waited, though, because John was someone worth waiting for. Even if he always came back to you with another bullet wound or a few stitched scrapes -- the point was that he came back at all. And that tired smile that overtook his lips when he saw you was reward enough, the wash of softness that spreads like a wave over the harshness of his eyes.

You couldn’t ask for a more perfect lover, even if the nights he was gone you were incredibly restless.

“I have to make breakfast,” Your lips part, a slow groan entering the bedroom as you shove back the covers, the small digital clock on the nightstand reading eight O’clock, “God, what I wouldn’t give for John’s pancakes right about now.”

When things had gotten serious between the two of you, it had come as a surprise that the Brit was insanely good at making breakfast foods. Now every time John left you he not only caused an absence in your shared bed but also in the kitchen.

Getting to your feet, you pad over to the bathroom, grabbing one of John’s large spare shirts and gray sweats on the way, pressing them to your nose as your eyes flicker at the scent of smoke and gunpowder. It was almost enough to make you slink back into bed, roll around in the covers, and press the fabric deep into your chest as you imagine John being there, fingers spayed out along your burning flesh.

Lord, you were so horrifically in love with the blue-eyed man that even the scent of him made you ache with need.

After taking a shower, staying in there for a long while, and praying the cold water washed away your heated thoughts, you dressed and went to quickly hobble down the hardwood hallway, gazing at the pictures on the walls as you pass them.

A smile quirks on your lips at the still image of you and John at the local military base, snapped by none other than Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick himself with his thumb slightly sticking out in the bottom right corner. It showed John gripping you tightly around the waist, staring down at you as his hulking frame dragged you into a hug; your arms were around his tapered waist, not minding the bulkiness of his combat vest at all as John’s iconic bucket hat sat on your head like a shimmering crown. You looked up at the bearded man like he was the only person in the world that mattered and, at that moment, he was.

Gaz had never let on that he had been taking pictures of the two of you for about a year until on your last birthday he handed you a collection in an envelope with a smirk directed at his Captain.

“You’re going to love this, Sir,” Kyle had said, and you both had watched in amusement as John’s face heated to a, you believed, adorable degree of red at the contents.

It was safe to say that every single picture that you had been given was framed and hung in every nook available in John’s house.

Finally making it to the kitchen, you settled on a simple egg sandwich with a side of steaming coffee – something that John would never be able to understand about you. He was always so adamant about having a cup of Earl Gray in the mornings that it was the cause of many amusing fake arguments and teasing.

Going to sit on the comfy leather loveseat next to the window, plate and cup in hand, your eyes lock onto a black van across the street, not even thinking about it until you had taken a sip of your drink with a sigh.

You blinked slowly, watching the shadows inside the tinted windows shift with a hitch in your chest.

“That’s strange,” Muttering under your breath, you take another slow sip and feel the heat of the coffee settle in your stomach; pooling with the small amount of paranoia that began to gradually build, “I don’t think Mrs. Rose was expecting anyone today – it’s Sunday – she’s off at church by now for Morning Mass.”

The neighbor, Mrs. Rose, was a kind old lady whose husband had been in the service years and years ago and the two of you had bonded over the fact. She often brought over sweets when she knew John was gone and you and her would trade stories to keep each other company and the lonely thoughts at bay.

Her husband had died three years ago, and, because of this, Mrs. Rose found comfort in religion. Sundays were always quiet around the neighborhood – no cars on the quiet street, no knocks on the front door, and no loud music from the younger neighbors that John always had to use his ‘Captain Voice’ on to get to quiet down. And, certainly, no strange black cars with moving shadows in the interior.

Rubbing at your fatigued eyes, you lightly tilt your head back to rest on the top of the loveseat, “John’s rubbing off on me too much, I’m going to be graying in no time if I keep this up. It’s just a damn car.” Just as you said those words the engine of the van rumbled to life, and no later the vehicle was rolling its way down the road and disappearing out of view.

You nod your head, trying to prove to yourself that you had been right to think nothing of the small disruption to your Sunday routine.

“Worrying is John’s specialty.” You say with surety, your lips pulling into a smile as the steam of your drink caresses your cheeks, imagining the man and the furrow in his brow when he sees something out in public he didn’t like. He always pulled you close to him in those instances, keeping a hand on the small of your back like he was your personal security detail instead of your boyfriend. Not that you minded, of course. In fact, you found it incredibly attractive that he cared about you that much, “I’ll leave it to him to glare at every bump in the night, especially if it means he ends up sleeping on top of me like last time.”

So why was there a twist in your stomach that refused to leave? You shook your head, setting down your cup and grabbing at your egg sandwich with twitching fingers.

Not my business, you thought to yourself, chewing the bread and protein between your teeth and swallowing thickly before going back in for another bite, Nothing even happened.

But it was, unfortunately, going to be your business at about five O’clock at night.

Just finishing a deep clean of the pantry that you had been putting off for days, your ears had tuned out the sound of the radio on the counter, your favorite song just finishing up that you had been mindlessly enjoying. If anyone had heard you singing along as you had, it would have left you more embarrassed than the time you had accidentally punched Soap in the gut when he had snuck up on you at the base.

To this day, the Scot had never let you live that event down, but Price had told you fondly that if you could land a hit on his Sargent and leave him winded, there was no need at all to feel bad.

It was only in the break between songs that you finally heard your phone ringing from the living room.

Placing down the box of noodles that you had been trying to find a place in the pantry for with a huff of breath, your hand flicked off the radio as you left the kitchen. Mildly annoyed to be interrupted, you grabbed your phone from the couch cushion where you had thrown it a while ago, flipping the screen over as the incessant ringing stopped.

“Damn,” You mutter, mad that you had missed whoever had called, though you knew it couldn’t have been John or the others of 141 – they were never allowed to call on missions due to possible breaches of security – and you never wanted to put them in danger just because you missed your boyfriend.

The number of missed notifications made you freeze.

Inside your chest, your pulse skyrockets as your eyes skim over fifty-two missed calls from John, twenty-five from Gaz, fifteen from Soap, and seven from Ghost with a rising panicked fever. That last one was strange – Ghost never called you. It wasn’t that you weren’t close, he just hated not seeing the person he was talking to over the phone when he had the choice to. He had shown up at the house multiple times just to ask a question about a chicken recipe you had made the team a while back.

Your lips thin with a sense of eerie calm. Had you been cleaning the pantry that long? You swore it had only been two hours since you started.

“What the fuck,” You whisper, but before you could click John's notification to call him back, the phone started ringing just on cue. Stabbing the green icon with your shaking finger, your hands vibrate as you snap the device to your ear, but already your boyfriend was shouting on the other end.

“-Oh, thank the bloody fucking Lord,” Your boyfriend utters your name, and his voice pauses as he takes a relieved breath, but the frantic tone persists onto the next sentence. He sounded like he was running, and briefly, you hear him shout over his shoulder to someone most likely following behind him, probably Gaz, “Listen to me right now,” Foliage is shoved aside, and you blink in confusion at the sound, “and get out of the house. Now, Love, I know you have questions, and I’d be happy to answer all of them when I know you’re safe, but I can’t explain right now. You need to go to this exact location–”

“John, what the hell? Leave the house? It’s five on a Sunday.” You stumble backward, spotting your shoes and coat by the door with a terrified expression. What the fuck was he talking about? Leave the house…right now? It was dark out, the street lamps the only light left and not to mention freezing.

“Get out of the fucking house! Now!” Flinching your breath hitches at the words you could only describe as orders as his accent deepens gutturally at the shout coming from his lips.

John had never raised his voice at you before – despised it, really, and because of that arguments always led to both parties leaving to separate rooms to cool off before talking again with level heads on their shoulders. He never had outbursts like that. Ever. But this…

Your feet rush to the door, slipping on your shoes with quaking feet as you swallow harshly.

“Okay,” You whisper into the phone, voice noticeably weak from nerves and fear. Something was horribly wrong, and the same feeling from this morning returned tenfold, nearly like an ironic ‘I told you so’ as your stomach rolls.

“...Shit, I-I–” Whatever apology John was about to utter was lost to you as your hand went to open the door, gripping the knob before stopping in your tracks.

Whispers. Whispers coming from outside the door. Your ears strain for a solid minute before your eyes widen in their sockets. Alarm bells were ringing inside of your mind, and you slowly backed up and interrupted the directions that John was spewing off, hands clenching as sweat formed in the groves of skin.

“John, someone’s at the front door. I hear whispering.” Silence, and the sound of increased panting, a body running faster and faster as shouts reverberate in the background. Were those gunshots you heard? And muffled gasping? “John.” You breathily whisper, eyes snapping back and forth but focusing on nothing.

“There’s a safe in my office, the code is 5-6-2-1. Inside you are going to find a firearm–”

“What?!” Your face stiffens, but your feet already carry you silently backward toward John’s office room, “What the fuck?”

“Listen to me,” Price grunts, voice so desperate you weren't sure the same person was speaking to you anymore, “Gaz and the others already contacted the police and Laswell, but they’re not going to get there in time. You need to be prepared for when they bust through the door.”

Bust through the door?! Your thoughts run and with gasping breaths, you turn fully around and begin rushing through the house.

“Speak to me, Love,” John utters, choice cutting out and filtering back in, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You owe me a ring after all of this I swear to–” The front door busts off its hinges and multiple pairs of rushing feet storm through the house, and all-consuming shouts drown out your screams. You drop the phone as John bellows your name into the speaker, voice breaking. Turning to run, hands snatch at your wrists and shoulders dragging you away from the office that was so close at hand and back to the door. All you caught a glance of were black uniforms, heads completely covered like common criminals. But they were anything but.

“Get the Hell off me...! John! John, please!” Your screaming is cut off by the end of a gun falling to your temple, blinding pain erupting behind your eyes as blood spurts from a wound breaking your skin.

Disoriented, you fall silent, head lulling to the side as your swinging arms and legs fill with TV static. They lay limp as strange hands wrap around your middle, dragging you out the door as John’s voice becomes faint in the distance. You fall unconscious to his rage-filled voice, the volume of his threats so loud you heard them in the streets before darkness takes you.

“I will tear every one of you fuckers to pieces if you break one hair on her fucking head! Do you hear me?! You keep her out of this–”

                                      –

And now you were sitting tied to a chair, head throbbing with venomous fear pulsing through your veins; your body shaking as the initial confusion leeks away.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, You think, head snapping this way and that even if it makes you want to vomit right into your lap. The rope over your wrists and waist digs deep, your skin already red long before you start jerking your limbs to try and move them.

The room looked like an old storage container, with metal on the walls and floors with a single handing light from the low ceiling that buzzed. But what caught your attention more were the blood stains. Sucking in quick breaths, your eyes jerk from one to another, all dried but looking large and having spawned from wounds that no one could walk away from. Suddenly aware of your situation, a whimper falls from your lips.

Where was John? You wanted him with you, wanted to feel him bring you to his chest and never let go, feel the steady beating of his reliable heart against your ear like a lifeline; you wanted to grip his skin and lay gentle kisses to his cheeks and lips, let his beard tickle you like it always did – leaving you laughing as John rubs his head into your neck to tease you with it.

The blue peeling paint of the storage container didn’t look like the precise blue of John’s eyes, just a pale imitation. Strangely, that was the thought that made the growing tears in the sides of your eyes slip down your cheeks. That wasn’t his blue; nothing else could be. Your fingers clench into fists so tight the skin turns white.

“John,” You sob, the blood from your head wound dripping down your chin. It sings, “John, where are you? Please, I’m scared.”

Footsteps sound from outside, but you immediately know they don’t belong to your boyfriend. They were too heavy, and, whoever it was, they didn’t carry themselves with the grace that John always did when he was with you or in the field. While being built better than a bodybuilder, your lover had been trained to take on tasks that most would consider death sentences…and he sure as hell didn’t walk like that. The stranger was so loud even your untrained ears picked up on it, and your body responds by becoming even more tense as a shadow settled behind the door.

A long stretch of silence and ragged breathing, your occasional sniffling contrasting the thick air.

The large door opens with a slam that makes you flinch back into your chair, wrist ropes skinning the fragile skin as you choke at the pain.

His face is unfamiliar, one twisted by emotions you weren't sure most normal people experienced in their lifetime. He stalks closer, and instinctually you attempt to pull back to no avail. The ropes begin to draw blood, the metallic scent coating your nose.

Behind the stranger, the door closes silently, a dull thumb announcing the barrier.

“My name is Ilya,” His Russian accent was heavy, making the words harsh. Ilya clunks forward, standing a few feet from you as he stares down his large nose, “You are John Price’s pet, no?”

Pet? Despite the pounding in your head, you hold your tongue but show an annoyed grimace.

When you don’t respond, Ilya’s hand connects with your right cheek, snapping your neck agonizingly to the side with a deafening slap. Your world swims, and a buzzing takes hold in your ears like an explosion had gone off right next to you. Fresh blood flows from your lip – you think with a groan that you bit into it accidentally.

Be brave, You swallow the scream in your throat, working the kink out of your jaw, John would want me to be brave. He’s coming for me. I know he is. The thought comforts you. Never in your life had you doubted John and his loyalty; many would call it his defining factor.

He was going to find you – him and Gaz and the rest of your boys.

“You are to answer me when I ask you a question, Pet. Understand?”

“Go fuck yourself,” You snarl, tears falling to your lap with dull splats and absorbing into John’s gray sweatpants. Your face burns.

Ilya smirks, square jaw pulling back. He grabs at something with his left arm, your eyes following the movements in horror as he draws a long knife from his waistband.

“Alright,” He mutters, fingering the tip of the blade and nodding his head, “I can play that game.”

He walks three steps forward before a sound like bending metal sounds from outside, and suddenly the two of you are shrouded in inky darkness. Your panicked breathing stills.

Did someone destroy the breaker box? Shaking, you find it in yourself to weakly smirk, hope rising in you.

“I hope you’re really good at dodging punches…because John saves his fists for the worst ones.”

The door breaks off its hinges, and the sound of familiar, muffled, footsteps rush into the storage container. Ilya never stood a chance.

“Get over here--!” Not being able to see anything, all you could do was listen to the feral sound of skin connecting with skin echoes throughout the metal box. A body drops to the floor with choking gasps of pleas before other people rush into the room, one shadow immediately zipping to your side. You flinch.

“It’s me,” Gaz mutters, “You’re alright, it’s just me.” You hadn’t noticed the frantically fast pace of your heart until you had the time to be concerned about it.

Gaz’s hands immediately go to the ropes, cutting you free with his combat knife before dragging you into his arms. Your legs feel weak, but you find the energy to nuzzle your head into the man’s chest with a relieved sigh. But it’s not John. Still, you hear your boyfriend reaming on Ilya, the man most certainly dead by now due to John’s strength.

“Captain,” Soap’s voice calls from the doorway, his shadow shifting. He clears his throat as Gaz places a careful hand on the back of your head, a slow sigh leaving his lips to ruffle your hair, “Sir. He’s dead.”

The ragged and bloody punches come to a gradual stop, and heavy panting reverberates. Your head turns to the side, muttering, “John?” With squinted eyes, trying to make him out in the darkness. A quick rustling of equipment catches you by surprise, but the warm hands that grip your shoulders lightly don’t scare you; it turns you around with a heart-tightening gentleness.

A new chest meets your cheek, warmer than Gaz’s as well as broader. Stiffer. John. John. John. Your hands snap around his waist with a wet sob ripping from your lungs, leaving you breathless and gasping for air as more tears come.

“Shh,” His lips are on your head, muttering into your hair as his arms completely encompass the expanse of your back. If you were any closer you would be afraid you would disappear into his skin, ceasing to exist, “Shh, shh. I’ve got you. I’m here. It’s never going to happen again, I promise you. I love you.”

You only held him impossibly tighter, and you could hear Gaz and Soap in the background let out deep sighs of relief, slapping each other on the shoulders. They exit after a few quick glances and the lights flicker on a moment later – most likely Ghost’s doing. Your heart warmed at them for privacy, though your eyes snapped shut at the sudden light.

John’s hands left you for a moment, prompting a small whine from you before they returned swiftly to grip the back of your head, the large night vision rig on his helmet re-set back so he could see you.

“Let me look at my girl,” He murmurs, chest rumbling from his soft tone. You were happy that only you ever got to hear him speak like this. You turn your head to rest it on his chest, gazing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. At the sight of your bruised cheek and bloody temple, his eyebrows furrow, a quick rage overtaking him as you watch his eyes darken. But you don’t say anything, just watch as John’s arms squeeze you before one hand travels up to your face. He lightly presses at the thin cut on your head and stops when you let out a quiet hiss. Guilt swims in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Darling. If I had known he would go after you I never would have left you home alone.”

“John,” you whisper, voice hoarse in your throat. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours, lightly bumping against your forehead, “It’s not your fault.”

“But I–”

“You came for me, didn’t you?”

“Always.” He says it so softly you feel your eyes tear up again.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You tilt your head and capture his lips with your own, lightly moving your hands to grip his hairy cheeks as his thumb caresses your temple, the other you feel shaking around your waist. The adrenaline was wearing off.

John was tall, and to fully kiss him you had to get up on your tip-toes and hope he wasn’t going to tease you and pull back with a cheeky smile, but you would do it until your feet bled to feel the warmth that he give you as his lips dance with your own. They were soft for such a hardened man. Had he been using the Chapstick you had let him borrow for when he was away?

You pull back for air, your neck becoming sore at the angle you hold it just as John sighs, eyes flickering over you once more. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question.

“Marry me.” Your eyes widen, recalling your comment before your house had been broken into. Had he really asked you that?

“Are…are you really asking me for my hand while the dead body of the man that kidnapped me is behind you?”

“So…is that a ‘no?’” His eyes crinkle.

“You’re mental, John Price,” A smile splits your features, and you find him mirroring your expression. Your heart pounds, though not from fear this time. At his cheeks, your hands drag him in for another kiss, brief, though you pour every single emotion into it as you can. You feel the hitch in his chest and feel a blossoming of pride that you have the same effect on him as he does you. Leaning back, he chases you, though you stop him with a finger to his lips. There were his eyes again, those sapphire blues that sparkled when they looked at you, “But, yes.” You whisper, liking the way he almost looked relieved.

Like you would ever deny him. Like you could deny those baby blues when they looked at you with such love.

“I love you,” He whispers, pressing his face into your neck, kissing the skin in reverence, leaving fireworks in the wake of his lips.

“I love you more,” You whisper, nuzzling into his chest and gripping his shirt in tight fists. He chuckles at you.

“Not possible.”

[orikiys]

🔖 、 A LETTER TO MY EX

ᘛ 𓏧     ࣪    𖠵 희승 ☓ fem!reader. ꔪ ﹏ ᘒ angst implied exes warning loneliness can’t-move-on-ex not proofread & 798 words

remember the first time when we asked each other our favourite colours? i feel like yours has changed drastically. from blue to orange then back to blue and now? what is your favourite colour now? i forgot i can’t ask you that anymore. i don’t have the authority to ask. who am i to you now? just the past that you’re trying to forget so hard? i remembered another thing, i remembered the way you would convert time differences just so you could remind me to eat on time, to take my multivitamins on time, to give me a good luck message an hour before i left home, just so i didn’t feel alone.

now all i feel is dread. i’m surrounded by it. engulfed within the cores that no matter how hard i try to escape, an image of you never fails to pop up in my head. when i go to work, i see myself glancing at my phone out of habit as i used to when you texted me ‘have a good day!’. i still remember the first time you called me, i even remember the place where i picked up your call. it’s silly, it’s childish even, but i find myself walking down to that place sometimes and wondering what would have happened if i never picked that call? would we still be dating? would we still be in the phase where we asked each other our favourites?

you might not know this, but i added your city to my weather app a month after we broke up. it marked exactly a month since i’ve stopped receiving your phone calls, since i’ve stopped receiving any text messages from you. exactly a month since i’ve stopped knowing you. but i knew that no matter if it's been a month or five months, hating you might be the hardest journey. i still check the temperature of your city every day. but i have to stop myself from reminding you to carry an umbrella with you, because i don’t know where to find you anymore. you’ve gone. you’ve gone somewhere far away that even if i try to trace those steps they’ll just lead me to nowhere.

i still remember when i made snow angels and sent it to you. you called me a real life angel. upto this day, i can still see the shy smile on your when that ‘angel’ converted into a nickname. but now? even hearing that word anywhere makes me go into a deep hypnosis of what it felt like dating you. it felt complicated. each day i felt different emotions. one day i would be re-reading your texts a hundred times till they’re embedded into my brain and on other days i would be cursing you out for reasons i don’t wish to remember.

dating you had that spark in it, until it didn’t. until it just felt like carrying a burden all to myself. it felt suffocating to even open your texts just for me to see a simple ‘ok’ or just for me to see you’ve left me on read, again. just the way you left me all alone by myself. i thought we were special? i thought we were meant to be? but guess it was just me.

i tried to scab the areas you hurt, healed and then hurt again. but how could i scab my heart? it’s too precious. too fragile. but clearly it didn’t even take you a single regret when you broke that heart of mine. you were like the song that was always stuck in my head and like the words i never had a filter on. you just kept flowing all around me, making me lose myself into a tangled mess. i ended up embracing that mess in hopes you would call me your lover again.

i still wonder how it all happened. how the invisible cracks began to spiral the way more quickly until we could no longer bridge with words or actions. we started doing the bare minimum for each other and felt that it was enough. it wasn’t some sort of god’s plan but maybe it was all written in that book of fate because the more i think about it, the more i feel that this breaking apart couldn’t be fixed no matter how much the two sides tried to. except, none of the sides tried. we just stopped caring. there was no realisation until i felt you slip away from my grasp. until i had realised that i’d been wrapping my arms around something that was gone. a sense of nostalgia. perhaps the faded away moments. but i knew that i would answer if you reached out again. no matter the years it took. but i won’t ever forgive you for the way you threw that relationship out your head like an empty piece of cardboard lying at home. i won’t forgive unless i forget.

sincerely,

your angel

[herozdiary]

Hellooo 👋 I know you’re busy with other requests but I can’t help with this idea

With hyperpink girly reader (gender neutral Ofc or your choice) though they may seem mean to others but is really nice to Simon, very affectionate to him (covering his face with pink lip gloss marks) , and protective too. Chase Simon’s bullies away with their neon pink platform heels.

I’ve been obsessing with pink x emo dynamic

Take however long you want!! Thanks for reading this and I hope you’ll have a good day/night ✊

Bubblegum

Simon x reader

This diary entry contains…established relationship | Talk of poor mental health | mentions of bullying | reader is a icon | Simon is just Simon | just the two of you being cuties | slight obsessive behavior

Simon was a loser and you were the popular icon of the college you both went to.Your style was so pretty and colorful,Mostly pink but any color would fit you.

You met Simon on your first day when you needed help finding the girls restroom to re-do your lip combo.He instantly fell in love with you.

He soon enough made a big enough of move to get closer to you and you guys ended up getting close to each other to start dating blah blah blah!

Once you guys got close enough he confessed about how he was struggling with poor mental health and was a main target for bullying.

You never liked them.You use to be a target for bullying until you kinda just snapped and told them off.You were left alone after that and ever since then you been helping people who get bullied.

You sat on his bed as he cleaned up his floor.You had came over to listen to him vent and to help him with some English because he needed an idea of what to write.

“People are so shitty sometimes Simon,but you gotta ignore them and show them you don’t care! They’re just a bunch of self projecting losers”You say while fixing your digital camera.

Simon nodded before shrugging.He didn’t have the confidence like you did.You made yourself known while he kinda just stood on the side lines and supported you.”come here”you say gently as you place your camera on Simon’s windowsill.

Simon got up from his spot on the floor and made his way towards you.he sat next to you before staring into your eyes.You grab the sides of his stubble covered face and plant small kisses all over his face.

You had applied some cute pink lipgloss a couple of minutes earlier so you left sticky lipgloss kiss marks.You giggled at your work before grabbing your camera and snapping a quick photo of Simon.

He started down at your lap before smiling.”You’re so so so so soo handsome babe.Im kinda glad some girls don’t you like you because now I can have you all to myself!”You joke as you place a couple more kisses on his face.

Simon feels his face get red as he hides his face in his hands.Girls never were into him as much as your were.He had Sophie yeah but Sophie only saw him as a friend

You were different.unlike Sophie,you didn’t leave him but you stayed with him and comforted him.When Sophie rejected him and made up the excuse she had to go,You stayed with him the whole entire night listening to him vent.

Simon and Sophie are still I guess you could call them friends but he doesn’t talk with her anymore as much.He has you!When Simon does talk to Sophie he mostly talks about his life and how you made it much better.

People still don’t know how Simon was able to get with someone like you.You were a likeable,bubbly and a talkative person unlike Simon who was like the complete opposite,but they do say opposites attract.

You sometimes would even chase them off,it didn’t matter what type of shoes you were wearing you could run in 6 inch heels and still look flawless spewing out curses word at a bunch of losers who were picking on Simon.

Sometimes Simon would help with picking your outfits!he didn’t have much fashion sense when it came to himself but when he came to you,He knew exactly how to dress you.

“Ok Simon!I have this cute baby pink crop top or should I wear the baby blue one?”You ask while showing your boyfriend the two shirts.Simon did a quick scan off both shirts before looking at the skirt you had picked out.It was a black,pleated skirt with small rhinestones on the belt loops.

“I feel like you should wear the blue one.I think it would go good with the skirt your gonna wear”Simon said while going back to messing with his camera,

You nod as you toss the pink shirt back into the closet before smiling at Simon and thanking him for his help.Not only was he such a cutie but a big help when it came to styling you.

He was the only male you would trust picking out your outfits.Sometimes the two of you would match if you were able to convince him.it would take a couple minutes of begging but sooner or later you would make Simon have matching pink themed outfits!

Even if he found it absolutely ridiculous,As long as you were happy he was even more happy.

[cherubispunk]

Damn, what a year right? As I’m sitting here stuffing my face with Christmas chocolate, I’m thinking about some of the bad stuff, but also all the good things. I joined the fandom at the the beginning of this year and in the middle of that I lost my account and hand to repost everything 😱😭

I know. SHITTY. But!!!! I’m taking some time to thank you all for making this one of the best fandom experiences I’ve had. Thank you for your interactions with cherub. Your love, support, re blogs, comments, all of it. It means the utter world to me and I cannot stress that enough. You are all such wonderful people.

There are loads of you out there who I want to thank but I’m going to stick to a few that have been my rock through the shitstorm of 2023.

First, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. Ange. You are one of the kindest most genuine people I know. Being your mutual is an honour. You’re so generous and always there for me to rant and rave or obsess with. For that I cannot be more grateful to you. Your fics are beautiful and so is your mind. The love you show me and cherub is more than I could ever ask for. So thank you. Xx

@chaotic-mystery and @tightjeansjavi I know we don’t talk as much as we used to when I first joined the fandom. But just know I think of you two often. I love love love!!! your work and if I’m having a bad day I always pop back to it to make myself smile. I hope you two are doing better and that the new year shines in your favour.

@planet-marz1 mari!! Where do I even start? Your mari mail makes me giggle every time I see hbo Joel and pixel daddy Joel in a tutu or a tiara, or even as a snail. I’d love them as a worm, and I’d love you as a worm. I’m so excited to see what more you have in store for us with your writing because from what I’ve seen so far you are insanely talented!

@joelslegalwhre Em, you’re so sweet. You really are! And I’m so happy that we’re mutuals. I can’t wait to obsess over more Joel with you and get to know you more too. I love seeing you pop up in my inbox every now and then.

@jenna-ortega OH MY GOD I don’t THINK YOU UNDERSTAND THE VERTIGO BRAINROT I STILL HAVE!!!!! I often re-read it as a bedtime story because the premise of that fic is just chef’s kiss! Can’t wait to read more in the new year of you choose to continue bby

@chloeangelic thank you so much for your kind words on cherub part one and two. It really means the work that you loved it so much. Your reblog made my Christmas. I was giggling and kicking my feet the whole time and read it over and over trying to let it sink in that such a great writer ENJOYED MY WORK!! So thank you again l, sending much love your way, chloe. Mwah!

A few more honourable mentions go out to @swiftispunk @netherfeildren @janaispunk @saradika @morning-star-joy @psychedelic-ink @persephone-girl @walkintotheriveranddisappear @worhols @pedrit0-pascalit0 @morallyinept @cupofjoel @cavillscurls @joelsgreys @joelsflannel @joelscruff @joelsversion @wannab-urs @notjustjavierpena @millerscoffee @beskarandblasters @dilfspitdrinker @bbyanarchist @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @reddedmiller @toxicanonymity @thetriumphantpanda @cool-iguana and so many more for their work and the interactions we’ve shared over the year.

I hope with all my fanfic writer heart that the new year inspires you and shows you love, warmth and happiness. Keep smiling cherubs! Xxxxxx

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

The Sacrifice Douma x reader pt 1

Pairing: Douma x reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury

Summary: You wake up to your new surroundings

****************************************************Don’t forget to read the prologue!

“She’s been sleeping all day, you sure she’s ok..?”

Hush Yuta, stop asking me that and go finish your chores”

“But-”

“No buts! Go now”

“Ugh fine”

“*sigh* honestly that boy will be the death of me..”

“Mmm”

“Oh are you awake?”

Huh? Slowly your senses regain. You twitch your fingers and they smooth over something soft like cotton. You smell something…lavender oils and for the first time in many many years you’re…comfortable?

You start to piece together your wits and then it strikes all at once like a bolt of lightning.

Your master, the freezing rain, the pain, the demo-

You shoot up from your laying position, your body protests instantly but you push that aside.

You take in your surroundings, 4 walls, a simple clothing chest, a screen divider, a smoking oil diffusing pot, and a woman sat folding linens. Her chocolate brown eyes trained on you. A look of shock and worry on her features.

“Oh you should be careful, you’re still recovering” the woman shoved the basket aside and rushed to assist you although out of habit you flinched at her touch.

“You had some nasty cuts, some required stitches, we wouldn’t want those to tear open”

“W-who are you?” I asked warily. I’m not one to shy away help, considering getting any up till this point was a rare occurrence, but considering my situation I couldn’t help but be cautious.

“My name is Hanako, I’m a maid, Lord Douma asked me to watch over you.”

“Lord Douma?” You had a feeling you already knew who that was.

“He’s the founder of the Eternal Paradise cult. Although we don’t really refer to it as a cult” she lets out a little laugh.

She’s so carefree… maybe she’s a demon too? But she doesn’t really look like one.. not that I’ve seen many demons in my life. But she doesn’t feel threatening.

“Everyone here is apart of it, we are all striving for eternal paradise.”

“Everyone?”

“Oh yes, there are many people who follow lord Douma. You’ll get a chance to get acquainted with them soon. But for now, you must eat and rest a bit, Lord Douma will be expecting you soon.”

“W-why… what will he do to me..” you dread the answer but ask anyway.

The maid tilts her head a bit. “There’s no need to worry, Lord Douma is fair and just. As long as you don’t step out of line, you have no reason to fear”.

No need to fear? Just what is going on?! I’m about to blurt out something akin to, “I’m a sacrifice why would I not be afraid, also he’s a demon?” But I shut my mouth. Better to understand the situation more than say things to people I don’t even know.

You simply nod.

“I’ll go get you something to eat alright? You just rest until then ok?” The woman smiles gently and leaves sliding the door shut. She was older than me but not by that much.

You sighed, against your body’s pleading you didn’t lay down. Maybe this was a sick game where you were lulled into a sense of comfort and as soon as you let down your guard the demon would swoop in and devour you.

Or maybe he was plumping you up like a chicken before having you.

Oh this was torture.

Several minutes later Hanako re enters the room balancing a tray.

“Here you are, drink this soup slowly alright? You wouldn’t want to make yourself sick dear.”

You eye the soup in front of you carefully. It smells divine, with clumps of vegetables floating around and pieces of what looks like chicken. You can’t remember the last time you were allowed meat.

“Can I really eat this?” You murmur to myself.

Hanako urges you on. It could be poisoned but then again why would the demon poison you if he wanted to eat you afterwards.

Slowly you lift the spoon, dipping it into the creamy liquid and back up to your parched lips.

You’re not exaggerating when you say this was the best soup you’ve ever had.

Your fears quickly push aside in favor of shoveling more delicious soup into your mouth.

Within minutes the bowl is empty and you feel the rumbling in your stomach pleasantly cease.

“It’s getting late, we should get you ready to see Lord Douma before the sunsets.” The woman removes the tray from your lap and helps you stand. You wobble a bit but steady with her help.

She leads you behind the screen where a tub with steaming water is emitting the most sweet floral fragrance.

She helps you into the tub then goes to grab something from another room.

You sigh out of pure relaxation. Maybe this is the demons mercy before killing you. Or maybe he wants you clean before he has his meal. Either way you can’t help but enjoy how relaxed you feel. The aches are slowly receding.

Soon Hanako returns and helps wash your hair. The clear water soon became murky with all the dirt and grime from you.

After making sure you were all clean she helped you out and brought forth a gorgeous kimono.

Pearly colored material with beautiful vibrant flowers on it. You noticed that they were the same color as your eyes.

She helped you in it and clasped her hands together. “My my what a gem you are, under all that muck who knew such a beauty was there”

“Beauty?” I scoffed at her joke. Alright this pre eating pampering act was really something.

“It’s a shame that horrible man bruised up your face like that, the healer was able to make most of them disappear although the biggest one on your cheek was stubborn. He said it would heal within a week or two however.”

“Now let me just fix up your hair and you’ll be all set” her gentle hands ran through my locks slowly and removed all the knots.

She squeezed something thick onto her palms, rubbed them together then ran it through my hair. It smelled like jasmine and when she pulled the mirror I couldn’t believe it.

I looked… so so… clean and put together. No mud or dirt like always and my hair looked soft like silk. Even with the big bruise marring half my face I looked better than I ever have.

I never really got to take baths before. Sometimes I had time to quickly wash in the stream but not more than a quick few minutes because there were many pervs in the household.

“Alright dear let’s not keep Lord Douma waiting any longer” you nodded and she gave you her arm for support.

Patiently she led you out the door, you looked around, nothing looked out of the ordinary. It looked like a normal nobles residence with lined up rooms and beautiful garden work here and there.

Sigh you were so tired and confused and tired of being confused ughh.

You stopped in front of big wooden doors, they were carved brilliantly with lotus flowers.

Hanako knocked twice. “Lord Douma, I’ve brought the girl..” only a moment of silence before the melodic voice rang out again.

“You may enter”

*gulp* here goes nothing..

Hanako pushed the doors open then helped you inside.

You squinted to make out the figure sitting by the candle light.

“Welcome little flower.”

“I’ve been so eager to meet you..”

***************************************************

Please lemme know what you guys thought:)

Previous next

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List | Pt. 14

Word count: 5.5k ish

Warnings: explicit language, violence, sexual themes

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

—------

A/N: Hiii lovelies I know it had been literal years since I’ve properly updated. To avoid confusion you may want to go back a few chapters to refresh; I recommend part 12. Also some of the next few chapters may look familiar bc I re-wrote them. But I think you will like this version much better :)

“Why did you avoid me after we kissed?” you asked again, your voice clear. You did not make yourself elaborate. You didn’t tell him how you’ve felt lost and helpless these weeks. And if you could take it back, you would. But if you were honest with yourself, no part of you really wanted to.

You just looked at him expectantly and watched him squirm in the silence. “Because.. I’m a coward,” he offered, looking down at his hands.

Your silence was loud in the air between you, pressuring him to keep talking, “I was scared because BTS has already put you in so much danger already. I mean, we're not even dating, and you were basically held hostage.”

“Don’t pin this on me.” you cut him off. You knew it was a valid point, but it wasn’t his only reason for not talking to you. “Whether or not I endanger myself to date you is a decision for us to make. Why did you avoid me?” you asked again.

“I was scared. I was scared it was an impulsive or pity kiss after being shot. I was scared you didn’t have feelings for me, so I avoided the rejection.”

You quirked a brow in disbelief. Oh, sure, he was scared of you rejecting him. “It’s true!” he insisted.

“And I don’t even know if I could date you,” he added, and you felt a part of your chest ache at the confession.

“I don’t know if I'm capable of dating with my lifestyle. It's not only a safety hazard, but I don't know if I’m capable of giving you any more of myself than I already have. I think about you all the time. And I love spending time with you. But our friendship, where we were before that kiss, it’s all I know how to give people.”

He turned to you, eyes searching your face for any signs of hurt or betrayal, but he couldn’t read your expression as you quietly whispered, “And what if I told you that’s enough?”

Jungkook parted his lips but was at a loss for words.

“I’ve never really dated,” you explained, “And I don't think I know how to. And school is so stressful, and the program is only going to get more complex. I’m not sure I have time to learn and figure out the ‘right’ way to do it.” You paused as you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you realized how contradictory you were sounding.

“I like you, Jungkook. I like what we have, and I liked kissing you. But before now, I didn’t think I could date you. Not because of the whole ‘gang’ thing. But because I think-” your voice cracked, “I think something in me broke when I lost Daewon. I never,” You paused to swallow.

“I will never let anyone in like that again because it hurt so bad when I lost her. And we weren’t even together romantically. So, imagine how bad it would hurt to lose a partner?” a hot tear rolled down your cheek, and Jungkook reached up to wipe it. You leaned into the comforting heat of his touch as his callused thumb rubbed soothingly on your cheek.

“What I’m trying to say is we both clearly have boundaries and walls. And we both suck at keeping the other out of some of them. So what if we loved eachother in whatever fucked up way we know how and at least reap the benefits of having shitty partners?” You offered with a hesitant smile.

“The benefits being?” Jungkook asked with a quirked brow.

Mischief glinted in your eyes as you smiled at him before lifting onto your knees and crawling towards him on the couch. Jungkook knew this conversation wasn’t over. He knew he should stop you and assure you that nothing about you was broken for being cautious about who you loved. He wanted to tell you that you were good and kind and would make an incredible partner in any capacity, and he was worried he wouldn’t deserve what you were willing to give. But his mind went blank as you inched so close that he could feel your breath against his face as you murmured, “I can think of a few.”

You moved confidently but still grazed your lips against his in the softest touch as if asking for permission.

Jungkook leaned forward, capturing you in the kiss and pulling you into his lap. It was just as hungry as last time, as if he had been waiting to taste you again. Jungkook felt his body come alight at the joy of feeling you pressed against him. His hands rubbed eagerly against your thighs before wandering up your sides, your arms, and your shoulders as he took all of you in.

The touch wasn’t as much for pleasure as it was a claiming. But still, you skin tingled in response. A trail of goosebumps rose in the wake of every brush of his callused hands.

Finally, you broke the kiss to catch your breath. Pressing your forehead against his, you both smiled like idiots as you took eachother in.

Jungkook leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. As if the raw desperation passed, he would savor every second now that he had you. His hands were firmly on your waist, and his thumbs rubbed in a soothing motion, lower, and lower as they crept under the hem of your shirt.

You felt core core turning molten and couldn’t reflect back on the last time you had been with someone in this way.

Jungkook’s mouth was hot against your neck, trailing down from behind your ear lower and lower, looking for the spot that made-

You gasped and arched against him in pleasure, your chest pressing harder against his.

There it was, his mind thought in primal satisfaction, as he bit down right above your pulse point, making you writhe against him further. He had been replaying the sounds you made during your last kiss in his head an embarrassing number of nights he was alone. He wanted to map your body right now and learn every spot that made you sigh and moan for him. His hands had migrated further up your ribcage, your skin flushing hot beneath his touch as his thumbs swiped just below your bra.

He was about to reach around to unclasp it when a cough from the kitchen cut his ministrations short. You both turned in shock to see Yoongi placing an expresso pod in the coffee machine.

“J-Hope is in the garage you might wanna,” he waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture to separate. “Or don’t,” he said with a shrug, “I think his reaction would be funny.”

You were scrambling off Jungkook's lap and shoving a pillow between the two of you. Your lips were swollen and bruised from the kiss. You straightened your shirt, which was more rumpled from your earlier fight than anything, and placed a pillow between the two of you as if to protect your chastity with seconds to spare before the sound of Hoseok’s footsteps echoed from the garage. You locked eyes with him as soon as he made it in the entryway. You could feel the anger radiating off of him as he entered the room.

“What happened?” He demanded.

Jungkook calmed his breathing, grabbing the pillow barrier to instead place on his lap as he reminded himself that the bakery was attacked. Hoseok had no clue that Jungkook was just kissing his best friend and that he was not in danger.

“Hobi!” you were up in an instant, ignoring his foul temper as you wrapped your arms around him.

He caught your embrace effortlessly, his eyes tracking you and then noting Jungkook and his new emotional support pillow as he squeezed you tightly before letting you step back.

“Are you okay?” you both ask in unison before cracking a smile.

“I’m fine I just had to lay low. What happened at the bakery tonight?” Hoseok pushed.

Your smile faltered for a moment. “There was an ambush, they didn’t touch me. I can’t say the same for them, but they’ll be fine.” you started.

Hoseok’s brow rose at your implication, “You took out four of the Black Tips best men?” he asked. He didn’t sound disbelieving, he sounded… impressed and maybe a little proud.

“Only two, and I wouldn’t call them the best. Why are you here if you’re in hiding?” you asked, ignoring the way his approval warmed you chest. “And why were you in hiding? And when did you dye your hair?” you pushed. Reaching up to touch the murky black locks. It was obviously box-dyed and barely covered the bright red it was days earlier.

Hoseok smiled tight-lipped before moving to the couch, “I’ll tell my story if you promise to tell yours when Jin and RM get back.” He offered.

You refrained from pointing out that the reason you were at the Den in the first place was to do exactly that. You were too eager to get some answers from Hoseok. Who quickly filled you in on the details of the fake assassination attempt that ended in a not-so-fake assassination charge. That led to Hoseok and Yoongi hiding out in some shitty safe house an hour outside the city, living off Raman noodles and re-dying their hair to more subtle colors.

By time Hoseok had finished, the other members of BTS began filing in. Hoseok told you they had only been called out of hiding so Yoongi could manage the video footage of the bakery and nearby security cameras for the police department and insurance claims. Jin wanted to edit out any evidence of a gang-related interrogation, or else their relationship was going to get a lot more complicated with the local authorities.

But apparently, there was no need. Yoongi was fuming when he returned from his office, informing the others that while the security cameras were able to stream live footage to their system, the memory had been wiped from BTS’s computers.

He still had to cover their tracks of abducting the Black Tips on any city cameras. But otherwise the gang was relying on you as the sole witness to the night's events.

Well, you and the four Black Tip members who attacked you. The men were currently stored away in a safe house under the greenhouse on the Den’s property. But with the excessive exposure to Jimin’s smoke, there was a chance their memories would be unreliable, if not nonexistent.

Jimin couldn’t even estimate a wake time for the men due to the level of gas they inhaled. It could be days before anyone could get answers out of them.

When Jin and Jimin finally returned from filing their reports to the authorities, everyone settled in the living room to hear your account. You recalled the night's events as detailed as possible, telling them how the man in the suit tried to buy your loyalty from BTS and describing him to the best of your ability.

To your relief, they all listened quietly while you spoke, and when you were done, it was V who helped you fill in any gaps you may have missed by prompting you with questions. His presence was steady and soothing, and you realized he was giving you a glimpse of the spider at work. The others didn’t dare interrupt him or ask their own questions, they trusted him to gather every drop of information.

What did the man in the suite look like?

Did he ask about BTS’s current movements?

What ‘sins against the city’ did he want to hold BTS responsible for?

What information did he want you to report back?

You didn’t have any answers to half of those questions, confessing you spent most of your time stalling and trying to get the man to reveal why he was bribing you of all people. You were convinced at the time that the alarm had alerted BTS of your situation and that they would arrive at any minute. The thought of the man getting away didn’t seem like a possibility.

And a small part of you, despite promising yourself you owed BTS nothing outside of your contract, couldn’t help but feel like this oversight was a failure on your part. Somehow, you let the gang down.

Jin clarified that the alarm had been disabled along with the cameras hours prior to the break-in. It was by luck and V’s intel that they managed to get to you when you did.

“And isn't that a big fucking problem?” Hoseok growled, unable to stay quiet any longer.

He stepped forward, glaring in Jin and Jimin’s direction, “Do you realize how irresponsible it was to schedule her on a closing shift alone.” He accused.

“Hobi, it’s fine I worked late all the time at my last job,” you started trying to diffuse the situation.

Everyone in the room refrained from pointing out how well that had gone for you.

“No, it’s not fine. This isn’t like your other job. What if they tried to get information from her at that moment, and she had nothing to give? What if V didn’t call in time? There are a thousand different ways this could have gone wrong. She is not a member of this gang,” Hoseok snapped.

You flinched slightly at his tone.

“She doesn’t have the tattoo. Debt and favors aside, she should not be this deep in BTS’s affairs. She should not be alone in our businesses. That bakery is a cover for Jimin’s lab and loitering drug money. Why the hell would you think it okay to leave her alone there?” He continued.

Jin’s face was like a stone as Hoseok lectured him, not wanting his own emotions to invalidate his brothers. “You're right.” Jin agreed, and you could see the full weight of tonight's events take a toll on him as his shoulders sagged and he turned to you with guilt in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry I put you in danger, Ella. We will never let it happen again.” Jin promised his voice was soft but earnest.

“It sure as hell won’t because she’s not working for you anymore.” Hoseok snapped.

“That's not your call to make,” you argued.

Hoseok turned to you, frustration evident on his face, “Do not fight me on this. You know tonight was too dangerous.”

“She was the dangerous part of tonight. She was fine.” Jungkook pushed, standing next to you.

“Stay out of this!” You and Hoseok snapped in unison.

Jungkook’s face puckered like he tasted something sour, but he sat back on the couch's arm.

“Tonight, you were lucky that man wanted you alive. He could change his mind at any point why can’t you see the danger in that.”

“I'm bound by contract to keep working off my debt,” you argued as you turned to RM for backup.

RM crossed his arms, taking in you and Hoseok as he contemplated his response.

“Blood debt runs deeper than civil law,” Hoseok said before his leader could voice his opinion. And a tense stillness fell across the room.

“Have you forgotten she’s on the No Harm List? That we are supposed to be willing to die for her.” he pushed. The whole gang's demeanor changed at the reminder Jimin downcast his gaze as his shame sank into his gut.

“I don’t want that,” you pushed, horrified, “Take me off the list I don’t - I did not ever want that.”

“Daewon, please, why won’t you let me protect you!”

The room fell quiet as his sister's name echoed through the room.

Your chest ached as understanding settled in, “Oh, Hobie,” you sighed.

“We’ll take a vote,” RM ordered, unable to stand another minute of this fighting. “We have damage control to take care of, and everyone is tired. We meet first thing, and we will decide as a team what we should do about Ella.”

Hoseok’s smile was mirthless at his boss’s half-ass attempt to placate him. “See you bright in early,” he said with a salute before turning for the garage.

You stared after your best friend, hesitant to follow him. “And do I get a say in that decision?” you asked RM softly.

RM sighed, “Your opinion will be considered when we vote. You will have full control over how we go about re-negotiating your contract if it comes to it.”

Assuming that was the best you could get, you sighed, eyes flicking over to Yoongi who flanked RM’s left, his arms crossed and his expression stoic.

“I guess I’ll go catch up with Hobi,” you offered hesitantly, not knowing what to do. Yoongi met your eyes but said nothing. Taking Yoongi’s silence as his answer, you squeezed Jungkook’s hand in a silent farewell before you followed Hoseok to the garage.

Hoseok kept his eyes forward as you approached his vehicle. He was sitting in his Porsche the engine purred a soft accompaniment to the rhythmic thump of his music.

“Can I catch a ride?” you asked, already settling into the passenger's seat and buckling before he could give an empty “Sure.” in response.

You didn’t ask where he was taking you as he sped out of the Den’s parking lot and into the streets of the seventh ward. His options were limited if he was still a wanted man, and you figured you would end up at your apartment by the end of the night.

“We need to pick up another box of hair dye. Whoever did yours did a shitty job,” you said, reaching to run your fingers through his hair.

The unique thing about your friendship with Hoseok was you two were forced to mourn together when you were getting close. Meaning you both had a talent for ignoring the elephant in the room and settling into a normal life where you talked around the big issue.

It wasn’t always healthy to ignore your problems like that. But for you and Hoseok, it worked. After big changes like this, you both had a habit of turning off your feelings for a while and giving each other space and time to process instead of forcing each other to talk about an issue before you were ready.

It’s what you did with Daewon’s death. It’s what he did for you when you first found out about BTS.

So tonight, you could make space for him. The two of you could go through the rest of the night without talking about the bakery or BTS at all if he didn’t want to.

You glanced out the window, realizing what street he was turning on.

“We’re going to see Dae?” you asked, surprised as he pulled to the side of the road outside the city’s botanical garden. The gardens were closed, which was no surprise considering it was close to one in the morning. But that was never a problem in the past.

“We didn’t visit her on her anniversary this year,” Hoseok said simply.

You both visited separately, though you wouldn’t point it out. At the time of Dae’s anniversary, you were still giving him the silent treatment for lying to you about BTS. You had visited Daewon’s grave on your own and saw that it had already been cleaned, and her favorite flowers decorated the small plot, meaning Hoseok had already beat you there.

At the time, you had felt guilty for the relief you felt in your chest. Visiting her that day came with the fear that you and Hoseok would cross paths before you were ready to face him. And you think Dae would have been disappointed to see the two of you arguing on top of her grave.

Because of that, neither of you had gone through with your tradition of robbing the botanical gardens.

Your freshmen year of college was filled with many adventures since moving to Alcor was still a novel experience, but it also came with many nights of being homesick. While Gautier was technically a territory of Kros, the country Alcor resides in, the cultures were very different. And the climate was shockingly different in the cold and wet port city where the smell of sea salt was on the breeze, you missed the clean and fresh scent of blooming heathers and rosemary in the spring, and the taste of sweet figs right off the tree in the summer time.

One night, when you were suffering from a rather nasty bout of homesickness, Daewon took you to the botanical gardens and taught you how to break in at night. At the back of the property, a mighty magnolia tree bloomed outside the garden's fence. It was almost too easy to scale the tree’s sturdy branches and dismount on the other side of the garden. The fences were lined with countless bamboo trellises fortified with different vine plants, making for an easy escape anywhere inside the garden.

You remember how your heart fluttered the first night the two of you broke in. You had to make an effort to hold in your nervous giggle as you scaled the magnolia tree and landed on the mossy lawn of the prehistoric trail, which was lined with ZZ plants and ferns with curling fronds. Sneaking your way through the trail and across the lawn of irsis leads you past the desert exhibit and to a greenhouse that honored the terrain of the eastern colony you called home.

The air was warm but much dryer thanks to the special ventilation system, but despite the heavy humidity missing from the air, the small shrub like plants thrived in the rocky soil, filling the air with the fragrant and aromatic scent of rosemary, lavender, and heathers.

You remember how a knot built in the back of your throat as you ran your fingers over the woody rosemary bush, taking in the earthy pine-like scent. Dae sat with you and listened to you go on about your childhood home for hours.

The giant rosemary bushes that were planted around your house were a staple in your kitchen and bathroom growing up. Your mother was always placing sprigs in her hair products, using it as her own perfume.

You told her the story of how your dad always tried to recreate your mother's french toast recipe on your birthday, but he always forgot to sweeten it so it just tasted like egg bread.

You told her stories of how your father courted your stepmom and how you watched them fall in love again, and build a new family together. One you didn’t fit into as snuggly, not for lack of love in your home, but because you were so much older than your siblings and you had your own dreams and life you were ready to find in Alcor.

Dae held you when you cried, then jokingly played the national anthem to Gautier on her cell phone. You guys laughed and danced around the greenhouse as she struggled to keep up with the lyrics.

The memory brought warmth to your chest years later, just like all the other memories with Daewon. But beneath the warmth, a sharp ache still lingered. Daewon wasn’t perfect by any means; she had a temper like her brother, and she could brood like no other.

But she was good. Daewon was good and fun and she loved so fiercely and encouraged and celebrated her friends. She was the type of person to buy you an ice cream after you failed a test and a cake if you passed.

She was the first person to encourage and support you in your adult life, even in scandalous situations like bringing you a spare set of clothes to the frat house so your walk of shame was a bit less shameful the next morning.

“God I miss her,” you sighed as you approached the magnolia.

“Me too. Every day.” Hoseok agreed quietly as he watched you scale the branches.

He was a worry wort and always made you go first in case you slipped.

“Did Daeown ever know? About BTS?” you asked curiously as both climbed higher in the magnolia tree.

“She knew some of it, like selling the spare car parts, and she could obviously guess some more once I got the tattoo, but she didn’t know everything.” He offered as you reached the branch just past the tall fence that protected the gardens.

‘She didn’t know I shot people,’ she could almost hear Hoseok say.

You ducked low as you approached the branch that led into the garden. Grabbing onto the limb above you to balance yourself, you carefully made your way forward as the branch dipped under your weight.

“Careful,” Hoseok warned.

“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes as you let go of the limb stabling you, tightening your core as you jumped from the tree. It was less than a 5-foot drop, but you kept your knees bent as you landed, feeling the impact reverberate back into your legs. You hissed as the pins and needles feeling swarmed the balls of your feet.

“You gotta tuck and roll,” Hosek laughed as you wattled out of his way.

You watched as he lowered himself on the branch the muscles in his body tensed before he sprung forward, extending his legs with his knees still slightly bent.

You sometimes forget the athleticism Hoseok hones in his body. You take for granted how smooth and precise his movements are. It was something you still couldn't quite replicate when you trained with Jungkook. But as you admired your friend, you wondered if he was responsible for training Jungkook to master his own smooth agility.

As his feet touched the ground, he pushed his momentum forward, curling into a ball and rolling across the grass.

“Ow fuck!” he exclaimed as he backrolled over a raised root of a nearby tree.

“And that's why I don’t tuck and roll,” you teased, walking towards him, the ach in your legs nearly forgotten.

You wandered out of the exhibit and towards the iris lawn. Dae’s favorite flowers were blue irises. She used to always pick a few of the flowers any time they visited the garden and keep a vase of them in the dorm room.

“You know they’re bulbed plants one day, we can go to the store and get our own,” Hoseok suggested.

“It’s not the same she says they smell better when they’re picked from the garden here,” you insisted.

“It’s not like she’ll be smelling these,” Hoseok grumbled under his breath but obliged when you held out your hand for his pocket knife.

The theft was quick and efficient. You cut loose five of the flower's long stems and returned back to the fence. Taking care that the flowers were unharmed as you shimmied up one of the trellises.

You were both back in the car within 15 minutes and driving down the road to her grave. The visit was a quiet one. Not tearful like in years past, and for a moment as the two of you kneeled and placed the flowers against the tombstone, you didn’t know if either of you were going to speak at all.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave the city,” Hoseok asked quietly.

You looked at him, startled, “You know my dream is to be a travel doctor,” you replied.

“Is that still your dream?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, your eyes searching his face for any indication of where he was going with this.

“Y/N, you were determined once. Focused. You lived and sacrificed for that dream and would never jeopardize it. And lately, you’ve-” You closed your eyes as you caught on to his intentions.

“Continued to sacrifice for it,” you interrupted him, “everything I’ve done, the debt I have isn’t so I can play gangster. It’s so I can finish school. The moment I graduate and the moment I pay off my debt, I’m leaving the city.” You assured.

“You could leave now,” he urged.

“Take a residency somewhere I know your grades are good enough for that accelerated program.”

“I can’t run out on my debt. They will find me.” You hissed.

“They won’t. Jungkook will pull RM off your trail, and they can’t send me after you. I would go with you. You’re the only family I have.” Hoseok pushed his voice urgent, “Things are getting bad. There’s a turf war brewing, and the Black Tips aren’t working alone. I don’t think that man who came after you tonight is from the west side. If power players from the East are involved, this whole city will go to shit. This isn’t a petty fight; people will die. The inner circle and whoever is affiliated with them will have a target on their back.”

“What about Yoongi?” You asked.

Your question was double-sided. You knew about Hoseok’s feelings for him and his unwillingness to move on from him over the years. Hoseok was always privet with the gang side of his life, but even before you knew of BTS, you knew of Yoongi and the web of feelings he carried with him. And you also knew of the second's ability to track down and find anyone. If RM wanted either of you dead, Yoongi would find you in a heartbeat and probably had the skill set to dispose of you himself, too.

Hoseok's eyes downcast “He would let us go.”

“You’re expecting a lot of loyalty from someone you plan to betray.” You pushed.

“You’re putting up a hard fight for someone who claims they don’t have a real reason to stay,” he pressed back.

You looked away from your best friend. The man who treated you like his own sister from the beginning. Who was ready to give everything up and run to make sure you were safe.

Why weren’t you willing to give up your fraction of this world in return?

“Perhaps things are more complicated than I give myself credit for. I kissed Jungkook, and I can’t just leave until I figure that out.” You admitted embarrassed. You braced yourself for the teasing or the anger. But Hoseok's face was calm as he responded his eyes ernst and urgent.

“I fucked Yoongi,” Hoseok countered. “If I don’t leave now. I never will.”

A/N: I haven’t updated in so long I totally forgot how tags and formatting work on this post. Hopefully it finds the intended audience… let me know if you read and enjoyed it!!! Xoxox

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[wolfiemozart1787]

Thank you SO much

Hey, I just wanted to say to everyone who’s supporting me in this very unfortunate and just plain shitty thing that’s happening on AO3 - thank you. I really do appreciate it. AND just for those who have absolutely no idea what’s going on, I’ll explain it.

So, basically around three weeks ago I wrote and posted a smut fic on AO3 about two characters from Jackson’s Diary (if you don’t know what it is, it’s a Webtoon) and I immediately received an ENORMOUS amount of backlash, due to the fact the one of the characters was 17 - ergo, underage. I thought “well, that’s a reasonable thing to get titchy about”, so I re-tagged the work and stated in the A/N that the specific character was aged up a couple months, just to smoothen everything out. But, SURPRISE, it didn’t work. I started getting more backlash, which then turned into hate. It just kept coming and coming. At this point I was like “Jesus, how does one short fic cause all this?”. Then I received several requests (actually no, orders) to take the work down. Now, I’m new to writing fanfiction. I’ve been into reading it for maybe 4 years now, but I’ve only just started publishing works and this is the first fandom that I’ve officially joined, and I didn’t know that specific people had power over what I can and can’t write, sooo...yeah. But then, things took a turn.

I was scrolling through the fandom one day when I found a post titled “Please stop”. I was curious and clicked on it, only to find that it wasn’t an actual fanfic but a call-out post, telling all the people (aka me) who post smut fics (I literally posted ONE) to stop because it’s a.) disgusting, b.) is a basic representation of pedophilia and c.) is basically child p*rnography. Now I was astonished at these accusations. I aged up ONE character by a couple months, now I’m being called a pedophile? I explained that I myself am a minor, even younger than the underaged character, but of course that didn’t change anything. I tried to explain politely in the comments section that I didn’t mean anybody any harm whatsoever, and I was then harassed (and that’s not an overstatement) by several people, being told to take it down. So, my naive little brain couldn’t take it anymore so I took the work down. I then posted an apology. Now the reason I did this was not because I regretted writing the work, no no, it was just to stop all the goddamn disgusting comments about me. But it turns out I’d only added fuel to the fire.

I started receiving even more vile comments, some including death threats, others untruthful accusations about how I was a groomer or a child sexual abuser, others just calling me the most disgusting person alive. This had a serious effect on my mental health. I’m naturally a very happy person. I love making people laugh. I love making people smile and feel good about themselves, but now I felt like shit! I felt like I was all the things people were calling me. I was told to kill myself because everyone hated me. I don’t think there was a single supportive or positive comment on that post. I left it up for ages, until one day I came across a comment (from the same person who posted the “Please stop” fic) talking about a TikTok video about it. And I thought...”oh no”.

I IMMEDIATELY got my ass over to TikTok and saw the video, and...let’s just say I didn’t take it well. The comments were...unexplainable. Calling me the most vile words a person can be called. Accusing me of pedophilia, for the thousandth time! So many comments...horrible things said by people who don’t even know me! Judgement of my character, of my virtues, and they just kept coming. Then there was ANOTHER post by the same account, which then brought in MORE hurtful comments. By then I’d had enough. I had a full-on mental breakdown, trashing literally everything. Then anxiety started. I’m still in school, and I kept thinking “what if somebody at my school knows I did this?”. I started becoming anxious all the time, and it was all I thought about. Until somebody actually supported me and posted about the whole thing on Tumblr, which brought in SO many wonderful people! And I’ve tried explaining it to people on TikTok and AO3, but nobody will listen. But here I know people will listen. I’m sorry for sharing my whole boring story with you all, and by the way, it’s still ongoing so if you want to go have a look, it’s still up on AO3 with more comments every day!

But yeah, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all my supporters in this difficult time, you really do make my day.

[midnightstar-90]

Stuck

Mindy Meeks Martin x Fem! Reader

Taglist | Requests | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Scream Masterlist

Requested by Anonymous: “Mindy and y/n are dating and anika is about to fall of the ladder and y/n grabs anika before she does and pulls anika up, and after they all go to the hospital and get patched up and, Mindy does a stab marathon w y/n bc mindys proud of her :)”

Summary: Ghostface attacks the group, and somehow everyone survives.

Warnings: SPOILERS, SPOILERS, SPOILERS Angst, Gore, Stabbing, Blood, Signs of PTSD

A/N: I hated writing this on my phone, but I guess that is what I get for being clumsy. 😩

Anyways, this request was fun to write. I did change a few things from the movie, but not too much. Minor details.

Don’t read if you don’t want Scream 6 spoilers.

And I hope you guys enjoy it. ☺️

Words: 3.4K

Halloween.

A day that emits a constant fear out of me. Thanks to Gale’s books that she continues to write (no matter how many times she gets punched and ridiculed for it), and the Stab movies that follow, Ghostface costume sales have gone through the roof. Everywhere I turn, a Ghostface is lingering nearby, and it doesn’t help that the killings were starting up again. It takes a lot out of me not to pull out the small pocket knife that I’ve been carrying since the Legacy killings back in Woodsboro.

After Sam and Tara were attacked at a bodega, Sam insisted on the whole friend group staying over, including our friends who didn’t fall victim to the events that happened a year ago. So Chad and Tara were in the process of making dinner for everyone, and Mindy and I decided to help out by preparing the table. Everyone else was off doing their own things, all around the house.

I place the last set of utensils that I had in my hand down on the table and look up at Mindy. Everything about her was mesmerizing to me. From the day I met her, I knew I didn’t deserve her, but she chose me, in the end. And the way her mind works, as if everything was a movie, intrigued me. Her thoughts were what made Mindy Mindy, and just the thought made me smile. Nothing had changed about Mindy, besides her hair.

‘I love her.’

Those 3 words are all I could think about when I am around Mindy. But I couldn’t admit that to Mindy, because the last time I admitted my feelings, I was stabbed right after.

That night at Amber’s house constantly replayed in my head.

“I like you, Mindy,” I said with a blush. I shyly looked over at the girl next to me. A shaky breath left my mouth as my Y/E/C eyes met her beautiful brown eyes. The original Stab movie that we were watching reflected off the iris in her eye.

I watched as Mindy’s blank face slowly shifted into a grin. I could see the gears turning in her head as her soft fingers caressed my cheek. “Oh, my naive little Y/N. You are so cute when you act all shy. You know, not all my movie knowledge is in the horror department. I know the basic signs of romance. The tensing of the body whenever I get close. The constant blushing anytime I speak directly to you. The-”

“You could have just said that you like me back,” I spoke with a sigh as my head shifted away from the girl. I hear a soft chuckle before a pair of soft, plump lips press against my cheek. She slowly pulled away, making my body fill with heat. “I like you too,” She mumbled into my ear.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom. Brb.” I nervously stood from my spot on the couch and walked out of the room. Mindy was left confused as I rushed down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hoping that maybe I could give myself some confidence, but it didn’t work. The sound of someone trying to open the door echoed through the bathroom. “Someone’s in here,” I called out to whoever was at the door, but then they began to knock. I assumed it was Mindy trying to get me back to the movie. I still wasn’t ready to face the girl, so I responded with, “Mindy, this isn’t funny. I told you I had to go to the restroom. Cool your jets. We can finish the movie in just a sec.” My voice was still a little shaky as I looked at myself in disappointment.

But it didn’t stop there. I realized it wasn’t Mindy when whoever was at the door began to pound causing me to swiftly turn around and open the door. “Hey, I said-” A cloaked hand covered my mouth as I felt a sudden pain in my abdomen. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire life. Ghostface stood in front of me with a knife wedged in my stomach. He pulled the metal weapon out of my body and I grabbed my stomach in pain. Blood pooled through my fingers, leaving my hands stained. I felt a scream leave my throat before Ghostface tackled me down to the ground, and everything went dark.

“Y/N,” Mindy calls out to me. I was back in Sam and Tara’s apartment, and Mindy was standing across from me. I looked down, inspecting myself for any stab wounds or blood, but nothing appeared to be wrong. ‘I must have zoned out,’ I thought to myself, looking back up at Mindy.

“You good?” She asks, giving me a concerned look. I nod, trying to ease her worry, but it didn’t. “You zoned out,” She says, grabbing ahold of my face, turning it from side to side to see if anything was wrong.

“I’m fine, Mindy,” I mutter as I push away her hands. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but she ignores it. I don’t blame her. I knew that if she did something like that, I would be worried too, but ever since I checked out of the hospital last year, I hated when people asked me if I was okay. I felt as if I was being coddled, and I hated that feeling.

Mindy’s gaze moved from off of me and onto Chad and Tara. I watched as her frown became a smirk. “Look,” she repeats, aggressively slapping my shoulder. I wince in pain as I grab ahold of the shoulder she slapped, and I turn around, facing the direction she was pointing at.

Tara and Chad were talking it up in the kitchen. They weren’t physically showing affection for the other, but you could tell by the look in their eyes that they had feelings for each other. It reminded me of how Mindy and I looked at each other before we got together.

“They’re so cute together, and they don’t even know it,” I said, staring at the two with a loving smile.

Mindy began to cringe at my comment. “It’s not cute, it’s annoying, and disgusting to watch.” She then began making gagging sounds, catching the attention of Chad and Tara. I elbowed Mindy for doing what she did, and shaking my head in disbelief, but she continued to speak. “Will you two just make out already?” She asked.

Chad fires back, “Mindy, that is so inappropriate, dude.” Mindy throws her hands up in surrender and I just watch in amusement. “Okay- Whatever. Just hurry it up,” she groaned.

We made our way to the kitchen with Chad and Tara, right Sam walked in with a bottle of wine. Mindy tried telling Sam that we didn’t need to be here, but Sam didn’t agree. “Oh, please,” she scoffed at Mindy. “You and Y/N just want to be alone together.” Chad and Tara laughed as Mindy and I shrugged and gave each other knowing looks.

The conversation then went on to how we would all be safe as one rather than be in separate locations. Chad looked around the group before saying, “This’ll be so fun. A little sleepover with the Core 5.” Everyone looked at Chad, questioning him about the nickname he just gave the group.

He passed a high five around to everyone, hoping to confirm the nickname, which everyone disagreed with. But when he got to me, I cringed at the nickname, but I felt bad. Being the “people pleaser” that I am, I high five the boy back in pity, but Chad didn’t see it that way. “Yesss,” he cheered as the 3 other girls began to berate me for agreeing with the boy.

Anika calls us into the living room where the tv screen shows a news report. It spoke about how the police’s main suspect in the murder against Jason and Greg was Sam. I look over at Sam, giving her a sympathetic look as I begin to notice that her body is tense and she looked as if all the air had been knocked out of her.

I look back at the tv when a video of the frat party came on. Sam quickly moves from behind the couch to turn off the tv, and goes to sit at the dining room table. Tara’s the first one to engage in conversation with the girl before Chad, Mindy, and I join in.

We talk for some time, trying to cheer the girl up. Chad reminds all of us why we all came to New York together, which sparks something we never thought we’d hear. “We are the Core fucking Five,” Mindy says, prompting Chad to pull Mindy and I into a hug. Mindy and I give each other a look before rolling our eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, we are,” he cheers. I shake my head “no” at the boy as Tara and Sam watch us, also wearing a smile. We try to get Tara to say it, but she’s too stubborn.

“I’ve been sleeping with cute boy, from across the hall,” Sam says out of the blue. We all give each other a look before cheering.

“I knew it. I knew it. I fucking knew it,” I say over everyone else’s confirmations. We all stick our hands into the middle of the table, initiating what Chad called a “Core 5” high-five.

It wasn’t until Sam’s phone went off for all of us to go bizarre. It was Danny, AKA cute boy from across the hall. Tara grabs Sam’s phone and acts as if she answered the phone. “So, uh, what are your intentions?” She asks, earning laughs from all around the table.

Sam tried grabbing her phone from her sister, but Tara was quick to push her hand away. When she gets the phone back she declines Danny’s call, saying she’ll call him back.

Moans began to sound from Quinn’s room, just as Sam put her phone down, which made for another joke at the table. When banging sounds started, all our phones went off, signaling a group text. We open our phones to a picture of Ghostface strangling Quinn in her room, and suddenly time just stopped.

I sat in my seat, frozen. I continued to stare at the image as everyone stood up. I felt as if I couldn’t move. As if I was paralyzed. It wasn’t until Ghostface threw Quinn’s dead body out of the room, and revealed himself for me to finally look up.

When my eyes met the dark eyes of the Ghostface mask, I could feel as if whoever was under there was staring me down. I could practically see the smirk on their face. I had a bad feeling about tonight.

Tara and Chad quickly ran out the door as Mindy ran towards the masked killer. Ghostface slacked Mindy’s arm and she fell in pain. I quickly stood from my spot and ran towards Mindy. “Mindy!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Ghostface was beginning to attack Mindy again, but Anika moved the attention off of her by attacking them. Ghostface began to choke Anika, stabbing her in the stomach. I froze in my spot, next to the table as I began to remember the pain I felt when Richie stabbed me the same way.

“Y/N!” I heard Mindy scream. Her screams quickly pulled me out of my trance. I grabbed a dining room chair and made my way over to Ghostface and Anika. The girls screams filled the room as Ghostface dug deeper into Anika which their knife. I lifted the chair over my head and broke it against Ghostface’s back, causing the killer to topple over.

I helped Mindy and Anika stand as I passed Anika off to Mindy, and told her to run. Mindy did as I told her before a cloaked hand grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the wall. Ghostface stood in front of me, staring at me for a second before stabbing me in the stomach. All the pain that I felt last year rushed back to me as I screamed in agony.

Ghostface twisted the knife in my stomach before yanking it out, causing me to scream louder. I held my stomach in pain, as blood poured out of me. Somehow this felt worse than the first time. Ghostface raised the knife, ready to attack when Sam came up behind them and smacked them over the head with a knife block. Ghostface toppled over, causing the knife to drop off of their hand. The knife slashed my shoulder and I cried out in pain.

“Shit,” I cried as Sam helped me up. We rushed into Sam’s room, where we found Anika and Mindy holding themselves in pain. Sam locked her door before Ghostface could enter. When the banging stopped, Sam remembered the bathroom door was still open, and with Mindy being the closest, she told her to close it.

“Ah, fuck, that guy’s dead,” I heard from Mindy. She began to scream, so I moved as fast as I could to help her. She was struggling to close the door as Ghostface attempted to slash her with their knife. I pulled Mindy back into the room, allowing for Sam to close and lock the door before Ghostface could enter.

Sam and Danny made a plan to escape while Ghostface banged against the door. Mindy held the door shut as I pushed the dresser against the door.

Danny passed a ladder over, telling us to climb over. Sam called me over, but Mindy and I were busy trying to keep Ghostface out. We both urged Sam to go first, which she did hesitantly.

When Sam got over, I turned Mindy and looked her in the eye. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what I would do if you died and I lived. You have to go first, Mindy,” I said through my tears. Mindy shook her head and continued to mumble “no” repeatedly as she cried. I wiped her tears with my bloody fingers as I nodded yes. “You have to go, Mindy. If not for me, then do it for Chad.”

She stared me in the eyes for a total of five seconds before she gave me a soft, yet passionate kiss on the lips. I pulled her closer almost like a goodbye kiss, but she pulled away and said, “I’ll see you on the other side.” I saluted her as she exited through the window.

I waited a few seconds before making sure the door was secure. I made my way to Anika. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. We just have to get you over to Danny’s. Come on,” I said, helping Anika walk over to the window with her arm around my shoulders.

She pulled herself away from me, leaning against the wall. “No, Y/N, you go. I’ll be fine. Go first,” Anika spoke through her pain. I watched as her blood Oozed from her stomach, where she held herself.

I refused to take no for an answer. I grabbed the girl and basically pushed her out the window. She was in the most pain, so she took longer to climb over.

I looked over at the door, seeing Ghostface was almost in. I hurriedly began to climb out the window, even with Anika still climbing over. I rushed to be directly behind Anika as the shouts from Danny’s got louder. I looked behind me, seeing Ghostface standing at the window. When I looked toward Mindy, the ladder began to rattle. I look back at Ghostface, seeing them shaking the ladder.

“Anika, we have to move quicker,” I spoke, trying to hold my balance. Anika sat frozen on the ladder. “Come on, Anika.”

“I know. I’m scared,” she cried. I noticed that her grip wasn’t holding on as well as mine and that with one more shake she’d be done for. I looked at where Anika was and where we were from Danny’s apartment and I took a leap of faith. I gently pushed Anika close enough to grab Sam’s hand.

She quickly pulled her in before another shake came to the ladder. I crawled a little more before feeling myself start to slip. “You got this Y/N,” I heard Mindy call out. But between the constant shaking and the major loss of blood, I didn’t feel like I had this.”

I felt my leg fall through the gap in the ladder as another shake came about. I slipped, feeling myself scream and close my eyes, but I didn’t feel myself falling. I’ve been on enough drop towers to know that this certainly wasn’t it.

I opened my eyes and there I was, holding onto the ladder as if I was on the monkey bars. I laughed at my amazing reflexes, but it didn’t last long for another shake. I tried my best to ignore the pain from the stab wounds and I began to climb. I felt like a little kid again. Like I was at the playground. I tried channeling those thoughts before I made it to the last bar.

Danny reached his hands out from between the bars. I accepted his help and shakily grabbed his hand. He attempted to pull me up through the bars, which proved to be more difficult than I thought. As my body slipped through the bars, my stomach slid against them causing me to scream in pain. Danny didn’t flinch, only mumbling “sorry” over and over again, continuing to pull me up. Sam joined in and I eventually made it through, but I’d lost so much blood that I just passed out.

I woke up in the hospital. Mindy was the only one in the room. She sat next my bed while holding my hand, but her attention wasn’t on me. It was on the tv, which was playing the original stab movie.

“You’re not finishing the movie without me are you?” I questioned with a raspy voice.

Shocked, she looked over at me, pulling me into a hug. I groaned in pain causing her to quickly let go. “Sorry, I’m just happy you’re awake,” she said, looking down at me with a happy smile. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched me. I watched her also, noticing that she only wiped her tears when she sniffled.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, looking around.

Mindy smiled, “You missed everything, babe.” I looked at her confused before telling her to continue. “Well, how do I start? You’ve been in a medically induced coma for 3 days. Doctor said Ghostface really messed you up, and that you almost didn’t make it. But here you are,” she said, adding flare with her hands.

“So is it over?” I questioned, eager to hear about everything.

“Yes, Ethan, Quinn, and Officer Bailey turned out to be the Ghostfaces taunting us. And-“

“Wait… Quinn was one of the Ghostface? I thought she was dead.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t trust someone with a cop for a father. They faked her death with Officer Bailey arriving first to switch the bodies,” She explained.

I shook my head in disbelief. I took my unused hand and tried to hide my face in it. Mindy squeezed the hand she was holding before continuing. “You saved Anika. She probably wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t push her through. She also stayed in the hospital. In the end, Gale and Kirby almost died, but they survived. I was stabbed on the subway. Chad somehow survived a shit load of jabs at his abdomen, and Sam and Tara ended up getting stitches. So far, everyone is getting discharged tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” I softly spoke before my face scrunched in confusion. “Wait, you were stabbed?” I asked, concerned.

“Yes. Keep up, babe,” she said quickly as if she didn’t want to talk about it. “Want to have a Stab marathon, like old times?”

I smiled at the girl and rolled my eyes. “Sure. But we are talking about this later. Understand?” I scowled at her.

“Yes, mom,” she mocked with a salute.

Mindy restarted the first stab movie, sitting back into her chair. As soon as the movie started, I pulled her into the hospital bed with me, and we started our marathon.

A/N: So, I rewatched the movie to write this, and it took me two watches to realize how much these mfs be fucking Ghostface up, and yet the mfs behind the mask don’t have no bruises, wounds, or nothing. I’m sooo confused.😐🤷🏽‍♀️

Taglist:

[makethemhoesmad]

Sorry this took me a minute to officially get out and so sorry if it’s bad. This is my first time actually releasing my writing for anyone to read other than me. It’s also kinda short because 1) I only worked on it for around a weekish and the latest episode parts of the night 2) I really wanted to get at least the prologue out before the end of the week which I did so yay me! But honestly if you have any tips, critiques or recommendations for the next part I will really appreciate it!! Enjoy lovelys🫶

🪐

(this has also not been proof read or really edited once I officially finish part one I will probably re-do this I have just been busy and wanted to get this done. I’m also not 100% sure about the title so if you have a opinion on that lmk babe)

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Take me home

prologue: Beginning of the end

Pairing: paige bueckers x Azzi fudd

Themes: promptly fluff

Warnings: none that i’m aware of!

June 26th 2018

(Paige’s pov)

It was the final week of the rounds for try-outs for team USA when we were split into two teams that we would be on this week. Some of the girls on my team I recognized from the previous try-out days.

There was one girl I didn't recognize, but she was pretty good from what i’ve seen. There wasn't any denying she was going to make the team. As I watched the girl walk over to the water table I had convinced myself to go and talk to her.

“Hey i’m paige” I extend my hand out giving the briefly smaller girl, who’s currently sliding on the jerseys we got during the beginning of try-outs.

"Oh" The girl slightly jumped. "Um sorry hi, Azzi" She smiled reaching her hand out to meet mine.

Her smile immediately lights up the room instantly causing me too return one to the slightly shorter girl. Once our hands meet the feeling of warmth they bring to my normally cold hands, and the instant feeling of comfort she brings me.

"-uh Paige?" Bringing me back from whatever I was a soft, and gentle voice calling out my name.

"Sorry, zoned out for a minute" I responded with a reassuring smile trying not to make it awkward. "But uh, Azzi like Jennifer Azzi?"

"Yeah, actually it is" Her comforting smile now bigger than before she explains while I just listen throwing in my thoughts here and there to keep our conversation afloat. But before I knew it, it had already been fifteen minutes and we were about to start practicing.

"-But uh fun fact! you’re the first person outside of my family to know where I got my name from" The now grinning girl confessed as we were walking to the baseline.

By the time we reached the other side of the court we then started running simple exercises and drills. Which had eventually got tiring enough before coach had finally ended today’s session.

"Okay ladies good practice, remember to get some rest and be prepared for tomorrow we will be splitting up starting tomorrow. And I believe that is all I have for you, you are dismissed" Coach explained for the following day officially ending practice.

Before leaving I caught up to the girl currently walking ahead of me before stopping her. "I think it's cool you know" I looked at the girl in front of me with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Your name. I think it's cool that you're named after someone that good" I couldn't help but smile at the girl before walking out of the arena in the hot summer air.

ahh! it’s finally out once again i’m sorry if it didn’t reach any expectations so please please let me know your thoughts and would appreciate your feedback! bye babe🫶

ong rhis is amazing

[maximwtf]

request for izzy hands x male or gn reader (romantic). reader is friends with calico jack (i luv will arnett so lets pretend calico is alive lmao). back on hornigold's ship, izzy, blackbeard, calico and reader were extremely close/ tight with one another. so yk how they hinted at calico and ed having relations w one another at some point? maybe that also happened with reader and izzy. like there has always been romantic tension between reader and izzy and they both acted upon it at some points but never really made anything official.

anyways, they each go their separate ways eventually. izzy going with ed and calico and reader being impulsive and crazy sons of bitches who just end up seeing wherever the sea takes them without any plans. years later, calico jack and reader reunite with ed and izzy (and now stede is there of course, as well as the rest of the crew). izzy and ed assumed reader to be dead for a very long time up until this point. idk just re-blossoming romance with izzy x a reader who is his complete opposite and is fucking crazy. first kiss possibly and idk i've never seen any fics where reader is friends with calico so! sorry if this is redundant or hard to read. english is not my first language. bonus points if reader can convince calico jack to take a bath (that man smells like shit 100%)

Izzy Hands x Reader

Words: 4k

Google Docs Pages: 6

Warnings: smoking, drinking, idiots in love fr, if you squint there’s some angst, mostly just fluffy banter idk I don’t usually write stuff like this :”D 

Opening: You go way back with Blackbeard, Calico Jack and Izzy Hands, all the way to the time you were a part of Hornigold’s crew. But eventually all nice things have to come to and end, and you all go your separate ways. You stick with Calico Jack and lose contact with Blackbeard, and Izzy whom you’d grown fond of. 

After a long time, you come across the two at Spanish Jackie'z, and realise that same old fondness never really disappeared. 

AN// Gn Reader! I meant to write this as a he/him, but I forgot xd. I’m so sorry this took me so long to make, omg :”D I got into so many other things after ofmd that I couldn’t bring myself to write the rest of the requests, but aye I’m here again and as good as new! (or maybe not, maybe I forgot how to write for these characters.) Anyway, I’ve had time to let this one brew. I’ve loved the idea since it came in, had lots of fun with this !!

Anyway I wanted to write this before I get Baldur's Gate 3, just in case I want to start writing for that and postpone these even more :”D So enjoy the last Izzy request I had left!! <3

“A light that never goes out.”

As famous as the ship of Hornigold’s might have been, life as a part of the crew was not the easiest. Hornigold wasn’t afraid of threatening his crew, nor was he playing around when he did so. You’d seen how he treated the young cabin boys on board, like disposable toys. And maybe he did have more respect for the older crew members, but that did not save you from the overly hard work and stress of the captain acting on his threats. Which you knew he would do with no problem and most likely with a smile on his face. 

So what did you do to get through your days on a ship like this? You drank with the fleet. And that you were doing now, knowing there wasn’t anything to be done for the day. The sun had already set and the sea calmed down to rest for the night.

An oil lamp on the table was providing some light, otherwise the space was rather murky. An empty rum bottle had fallen on its side in the middle of the table, a freshly opened one going across the table, person to person. There wasn’t any to waste, though you played around with the thought of sharing being caring.  

Calico Jack sat on the other side of the table from you, Edward closest to him. You watched the bottle being passed between them, the noise of Izzy moving ever so slightly behind you bringing you back from your thoughts. This allowed you to pick up on the topic of the conversation. Jack and Edward complaining about the captain, Jack clearly a little more buzzed based on his speech. You flashed them a lazy smile, agreeing with what they were saying that way. Not joining the conversation since the two of them seemed to be so deep into it. But it was nothing unusual. Usually as the night went on the two of them would continue to converse, leaving you and Izzy to the sidelines to do your own thing and jump in on the topic when you felt like it. But neither of you minded that, usually finding the silence comfortable or conversing with each other silently. He was pleasant to talk to, even if you knew he wasn’t so fond of Jack and his behaviour that had rubbed off on you over time. Though, you tried to keep it at bay when with him.  

You leaned back on your chair, stretching your arms. The action allowed you to see Izzy as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. You gave him a look, not asking for anything but hoping he got the idea. And he did, he always did. Which you were glad of, since asking to come for a smoke with him felt like you’d turned into a begging puppy. Knowing the next time you or anyone else would get their hands on some more was unknown. 

So you excused yourself, leaving for the main deck with him. Not going far, near the railing. You leaned against the gunwale, eyes fixated on the light waves hitting the hull. Izzy followed suit, leaning his elbow on the gunwale before lighting the cigarette he was holding. He took the first drag from it before offering it to you. Of course he did, he never gave you your own. That would have been a waste of the small amount you each had, but that did not stop you from complaining about it. “Leftovers?” You raised your brows a little, still taking the cigarette from him. “Better for yer health,” was what he usually went with, like this time as well. “Fuck off,” you replied with a chuckle and took a slow drag. He didn’t say anything to that, turning his eyes to the water as well. 

You didn’t dare to smoke much of what he had left, handing the cigarette back to him. The silence around the two of you wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, but you felt the need to break it. Something of the way Jack and Edward had been conversing had sparked the interest of talking within you as well. “You ever thought of leaving? Finding another ship to board?” You asked, curious of his answer to be truthful. Because you had, multiple times in fact. You weren’t even sure of the reason for your extended stay. Was it for the trio you hung around? Or was it the threats you feared? You had not a clue, but perhaps if he had thought of the same thing you could push yourself over the edge of leaving as well. “Hornigold may be half insane, but I’ll follow Ed. Doubt we’ll die here, but he won’t stay here forever.” The man next to you replied, taking a rather long drag from the cigarette before lowering his hand and blowing the smoke into the cool sea air. You hummed, tilting your head in understanding. Though, you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease the man. So you turned to look at him, pouting as you raised your eyebrows. “Oh?” Was all you had to say for his expression to drop, noticing the way you’d abandoned the initial topic purely for this. “Fuck off, rapscallion. You know what I meant,” he said but you counted on his tone of voice when deciding if he was truly annoyed with you or not. Of which you chose the latter. “What? You’re even pining for him now when you’re up here.” You laughed, following as he shook his head with a disappointed look as he stumped the cigarette. “I’m not going to start this with you,” Izzy mumbled as he turned his eyes back on you. Now clearly a little more annoyed but you said nothing of it, wanting to see where this would go. 

Izzy turned to leave, retreat from the situation. But you had your hopes up, in the sense that you didn’t want for him to leave yet but also hoped that he’d tell you if there was actually something going on. For the sake of your feelings. Which you weren’t going to admit you had for anyone, unless he spoke first. So you took a light hold of the fabric of his shirt, giving him space to leave if he wanted to. But he didn’t. “Come on, ye getting lily-livered on me? Was I right?” You dared to ask, maybe pushing the situation a little far but you took the risk. Though it didn’t seem like he was going to leave, at the very least. He opened his mouth, closing it soon after. Seemingly frustrated. But you saw something else within that initial emotion, hesitation was some of it. Something that had appeared when his back was turned to you earlier. When he thought you wouldn’t notice. 

“Well?” You hummed, an amused look on your face even with the slight anxiety building up within you. His eyes darted across the empty main deck before landing back on you. A sigh left him, pursed his lips in whatever emotion he was feeling at that point. It only making you wonder if you’d gone too far this time.

With a swift motion he placed a hand on your waist, enough to make you land against the gunwale, kissing you rather roughly. A gasp escaped you, eyes widening for a short moment before responding to the action. Something in his manner changed at your response, pulling away slowly and with more calculated movements. It was only when his hand left your waist that you took a breath, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with anything to say. He didn’t seem to have a grasp on the current situation either, though he had a response in mind for what you’d been waiting for earlier. “Ye never are,” he said before heading back down to Jack and Edward. Leaving you out on the main deck for quite a while before being able to return as well. Only to not speak of that moment openly for a long time after. 

But that was years ago. And after that night and the many more you experienced, the fun came to an end. You all went your separate way, as much as you didn’t like the idea of splitting up in such a manner. But there was no avoiding it. So you chose to stay with Jack, seeing as you had known him for the longest and got along with him the easiest. And as much as he already had seemed like the obvious choice, it also seemed that he did not mind you tagging along with him one bit. 

And there had begun you and his long lasting journey to nowhere. You were finally free of Hornigold’s threats and work, having time to do as you pleased and go where you wanted. And so Calico Jack and you sailed with ships from place to another, keeping from trouble the best you could. Well, from time to time it seemed as if you were keeping him from trouble but at the end of the day it kept the both of you on the safer road. 

But this specific night, you were in the Republic of Pirates. Spanish Jackie'z had become a place the two of you would go to any time you were staying there, and that tradition was not broken this time either. 

The lights were dim where you were seated, at the corner. Not a table Jack would have chosen, but you preferred it. You liked retreating to it if things started getting too rowdy in your opinion, knowing no one would be looking for you in the shaded corners of the tavern. And that was exactly what you were doing now. Observing the people and the conversations happening around you while Jack was causing a commotion somewhere in the crowd. 

And all of that went along how it always did, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, until pirates you didn’t recognize straight away came in. A well groomed man in a fancy clean suit caught your attention first, causing you to furrow your brows in a mix of confusion and interest. He didn’t seem to belong, catching the attention of the other regulars you’d gotten to know over time. With him was a more dark figure, black clothing which blended him in with the rest of the crowd. Or would have if he wasn’t walking so closely to the fancy fellow. The thought made you giggle. But not for long, as your mind started to race when you saw the third party with them, a shorter man. Because the sight of him jogged your memory, made you shake your head to make sure you’d seen correctly. To not get too excited if you’d just been imagining things. But you hadn’t, it was him. And if that was true, the other man must have been Edward. 

Your eyes stayed on Izzy, blinking as the noise from the crowd blended into the background. As if a static had taken over your thoughts. You thought of going over, surprising him perhaps? But you hadn't the time to act on the thought. All the noise suddenly returning as Jack made his way to Edward, almost clinging to the man’s neck. A slight smile making its way to your face, a nostalgic one. Though, you feared what the good old combination of the two would mean for the new fellow. But for now, Edward seemed to be introducing your mate to the man, so you felt at ease with leaving Jack with them. Surely he’d behave….

Your eyes returned to Izzy, finding the man staring at you just as you had done to him. An awkward smile tried to creep its way to your face, feeling the urge to go up to him and have a drink. But the man seemed as if he wanted nothing to do with the place, as that he would have already left if it hadn’t been for you. So you stare back at him, nod your head towards the door he’d just entered from. A subtle invitation for a smoke which you didn’t have, but he didn’t know that when he nodded back at you, accepting the offer. 

So you got up, made your way outside where he had escaped as soon as possible. You took a breath to prepare for a talk, but he beat you to it. “How you are still alive, I cannot say,” he hums, demeanour much calmer than before. His form leaned against a wall, a lot less tense eyes travelled to you. Giving him a chuckle you tilt your head. “Jack is who he is, but he would never-” But it took the mere look he gave you to not finish that sentence. Not what he had meant. “That man may be half insane, but I figured you’d gotten yourself killed elsewhere by now.” He explains, eyes focused on a rum bottle he was opening, figuring out he wasn’t going to get a smoke from you. “Hah! You’d have to find something deadlier than a lead marble to take me down,” you laugh as you take the bottle he was offering. “Though, I’m not sure I can keep dodging the bullet that is an unbathed Jack…” You mumble with a careful expression before taking a swig, earning a low chuckle from Izzy. The angle allowed you to see his face better, confirming that he seemed to be in a better mood. Not as grumpy looking perhaps. But you said nothing of that, letting him off the hook this once. 

The evening starts to resemble a night soon enough, making you and Izzy start to drift over to the shore. At some point, you notice Edward, Jack and the new guy follow, joining in. You wanted to stay longer, to get to know the new man better and to get to talk to Edward as well, but Izzy seemed oddly annoyed with the company getting bigger. So you share a few drinks with them, learn that the name of the man was Stede Bonnet and go your separate ways. 

Separate ways, as in you and Izzy walked over to the jolly boat and waited for the rest of the group to be done with their chatter. Though, it seemed an awful lot like that wasn’t happening any time soon. But while observing the three of them from afar, you noticed that while Stede didn’t seem to be the biggest fan of Calico Jack and the effect he was having on Edward, there was something different in his eyes when he looked at the two of you. 

The man who was now laughing with Ed might have rubbed off on you in the years you’d known him and as much as Stede disliked the persona, something in his chest warmed up when he saw Izzy follow you around. The way he didn’t disturb your rants, listened if not always so keenly and chose to hang around. Because that was something Stede hadn’t seen Izzy do willingly with anyone but Edward. And something about that made the man take peeks at the two of you sitting together, happy for Izzy in his own way. Izzy might have not liked him, but Stede never wanted to make enemies, so perhaps this was good for the self isolated man. 

But you knew nothing of those intentions. Only that his staring was putting you off, not sure what it was about. You could see there was no malice in his eyes. So you couldn’t blame him for staring, for you had been doing that exact same thing to Izzy just back at the bar. But perhaps for different reasons, to which even you hadn’t really given into. It couldn’t be, because all the years at sea should have washed away any previous feelings. There shouldn’t be anything left but an empty table to start over from. A kind of erosion caused by separation. But that thought was too deep to dig into right now. 

You couldn’t quite hear what the three further away were planning, having seated yourself in the boat. Izzy leaning against the head of the small vessel, bottle in hand. The sounds of seagulls far off in the distance, in town. They didn’t bother to come to the shore so late into the night, knowing there was still food to steal where people were buzzed and forgetful. 

“Suppose we’re tagging along.” You start off in order to break the silence which had crept over the two of you. Izzy swirled the liquid in the bottle, raising his gaze over to the sea. “Ain’t that the fucking dream,” he replied but it seemed he mostly meant your companion, not you. But that didn’t prevent you from acting offended. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t miss me at all,” you laugh, the sound of it clearing any doubts from you being tipsy. “Never said I didn’t, ye made that up.” Izzy is quick to answer, allowing himself to drink the leftovers from the bottle, seeing as you’d already had your share and above. You pout at the sight, drawing in a breath. “Hm, maybe I should have been an author after all in that case.” You raised your brows, amused. “Can ye even read?” He asks, eyes back on you. The question receives a chuckle from you before you shake your head. Your drunken mind wanted to say, ‘no, but I can read the tension between us’, but something in you decided against it. Perhaps another time. 

Another moment of silence surrounds the two of you, and for a moment you think you were able to hear the conversation of the three men further up the shore. In reality you should have been a psychic of sorts to have been able to hear them through the sounds of the light waves hitting the stern of the boat.

You smile to yourself, thinking of something to say. “I see yer boyfriend got taken in the end?” You hum, mostly amused but in truth you did want to know if that was what had happened. The question gets Izzy to turn to you swiftly, but the tone of his reply is not affected by it. “He’s still rubbing off on ye. Suppose it’s better you’re tagging along, we’ll get you back on fuckin’ track.” He shakes his head in a disapproving manner, but you see the hint of amusement after his own reply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you insist. Perhaps he was right, but what else could you have done? You’d been with that menace of a man for years, it was only a matter of time until you would have become a copy of him. Well so you had feared. “Was welcomin’ ye back,” Izzy explains himself. But you had already caught on, just felt the need to be difficult. “So you did miss me, hah!” You chuckle, a little louder than you intended. Perhaps wanting the confirmation more for yourself than anything. In hopes that the earlier thought of erosion had just been a figment of imagination. But the comment only gains a look from Izzy, getting you to lower your voice. 

You drag yourself to a better sitting position, leaning towards the man a little. The bottle in his hand was clearly already empty, yet he attempted to take a swig from it. Perhaps to put out something within him, maybe to get out of the awkward environment you insisted on creating to amuse yourself. But in that moment you let any logical thought go. Taking a gentle hold of his wrist, enough to let him pull away is he so pleased. Yet tight enough to pull him towards you. A test of sorts, to see if he was up for it. To try and light a spark once more, see if it would catch fire this time around. And it takes him quite a while to decide, reluctant. Yet, with a swift motion he kisses you. Giving in to your almost childish suggestion. But that was what lit the spark once more, the same feeling from the past returning. As quick as he had been to pull away, you could have sworn the nostalgic feeling of it all lingered in the air. 

His eyes were focused on you, a hint of fear in them. You couldn’t understand why, almost coming up with a conclusion as to what you had done wrong. Had you taken too tight of a hold of him? Did he regret what he’d done? Wish to take the action back? It scared you. But you weren’t going to let him see that, instead offering the frightened man a smile. Maybe it eased his mind on the matter, leaving more of a conflicted look on his face. 

You let your mind at ease with the thought of all the years that had passed. What did you know of where he’d been and what trouble had he faced? Perhaps he would tell you one day if you stayed a while longer. But right now, it seemed as if he’d been craving for such attention from someone, yet never received it. And if that was the case, you wanted to be a source of that for him. 

But that train of thought was interrupted early on by a gasp. Not the kind you’d hear when someone was frightened or surprised, but the sweet kind. The kind you hear when someone gets something they didn’t expect. The sound was soon covered up, but you had already spotted the source of it. Stede. You’d seen his eyes leave the two of you, furrowing your brows in a mix of confusion and interest. The man seemed oddly invested in the two of you, but for some reason tried to hide it. You weren’t sure if it was for his or Izzy’s sake, but you were sure Izzy had heard it as well. 

As you keep watching, the others swiftly turn to Stede. Not worried, but alerted by the gasp. “Perhaps we should head back. I had something left to do,” the man speaks and this time loud enough that even you can hear it. You can almost also hear the awkwardness in his tone, hoping neither of the men had noticed him staring. Earned a chuckle from you. You watch as Stede gathers himself from the sand, the others getting up as well with questioning looks. You turn back to Izzy. He had definitely heard the gasp as well, but the annoyance from it hadn’t affected him nearly as much as the kiss. Which you found endearing, glad that it hadn’t ruined it for him even if he seemed to have some kind of silent banter with Stede. 

The three men walk up to the jolly boat. You smirk, seeing Jack wobble a little on his feet as they get to the waterline. You got up to meet him, not aware of your own tipsy state and managed to tumble forward a little. So much for the sea legs as you feel Izzy grab the back of your shirt to steady you again. Though he doesn’t hold on for long as he catches up on your intent, allowing you to wobble against Jack, pushing him just enough that he lands into the water. Only, if it hadn’t been for Izzy you would have gone down with him. 

But with his help you had succeeded, laughing as the man groaned in the shallow water, throwing playful curses at you. “Not before you bathe. You reek.” You say, as if you’d grown some standards after hearing Izzy complain of your companion’s personality sticking to you. You hadn’t but perhaps you wanted to pretend you had, for Izzy. 

You give Stede a slight giggle, watching the man step away from the splashed water. Only then noticing how the splash had wet your clothes as well, giving a grumble about it. Though it was all in good fun. “After he’s clean, we’ll set sail,” you give them a firm nod. 

You watch as Jack collects himself from the water, seemingly trying to pull Edward in as well. You smile at them in amusement, the nostalgic feeling creeping back up. Even with the fancier fellow tagging along, it felt like a puzzle being put back together. And you hoped that it would last a little longer this time, not having to go your separate ways again. Because even one night was able to prove to you that you had missed them. Missed the banter, seeing Calico Jack and Edward together and mostly Izzy. And the spark that had lit up once more hoped that Izzy felt the same way. At least about you. 

[fanficshiddles]

The Call Of Fate, Chapter 7

Loki entered the library one afternoon and found Jade in there, reading.

‘This is where you’ve been hiding.’ He chuckled and sat next to her on the sofa.

‘What have I missed?’ Jade asked, putting her book down.

‘Not much, Thor and Tony got into a fight during a training session. It got a little messy.’

‘Did you not try and break it up?’ Jade asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

‘Nah, it was rather amusing.’ Loki smirked.

‘Course it was.’ Jade laughed. ‘Anyone get hurt?’

‘Only their pride when Natasha dragged them out of the place by their ears.’

Jade sniggered. ‘I’ll need to watch it later on the security camera.’

‘It would be worth it.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Not practicing bass today?’

‘Nah, I like to take a day off from it every now and then. Let the previous days practice sink in a bit, when I’ve been trying out something different or a bit more complex, I like to let it settle in. Probably doesn’t make sense, but it helps me absorb it more and in result play better. Instead of over-practicing.’

‘No that makes complete sense. You sounded great last night though, couldn’t tell you were trying something different.’ Loki said casually, then his eyes widened as he realised what he’d just done.

Jade raised an eyebrow and turned her head fully towards him, her mouth agape. ‘You were watching me practice?’

Loki’s cheeks turned a bit pink and he looked incredibly sheepish all of a sudden. ‘I, uhh… might have been.’ He stammered as he rubbed the back of his head.

‘And just how often have you seen me practice?’ Jade asked, unable to hide a little smirk at how flustered he suddenly was.

Loki looked away and tried to re-compose himself. He coughed and then put on a serious face as he turned back to her. ‘Just that one time.’

‘Are you lying?’ Jade asked firmly and folded her arms over her chest.

Loki faced straight ahead, stayed still for a moment and said nothing, then gave her a side eye look which was all she needed to know.

‘I’m flattered, Loki. Though you don’t need to hide if you want to watch me practice.’ Jade laughed and nudged him with her elbow.

‘I thought you might have been annoyed or creeped out, so I got myself stuck in a little rut of keeping hidden.’ Loki admitted, relaxing more.

Jade smiled widely. ‘Well, if a God wants to watch me play, then I must be doing something right. No better compliment than that.’

Loki smiled widely. ‘You are very talented, cupcake. No doubt about that.’

‘Thanks. I just wish I could play with my band, they’re doing a gig on Friday night in the local, it’s always a hoot. Can’t beat playing live with them.’ Jade said with a little sigh.

‘I can imagine.’ Loki then trailed off in thought, he didn’t even hear what she said next.

‘Hey, you there, Loki?’ Jade poked his arm.

‘Sorry… I was just thinking.’

‘Ohh, dangerous.’ Jade teased.

‘Cheeky.’ Loki chuckled.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘About what I want for dinner. I’m famished.’ Loki lied.

‘Of course you are, you’re always thinking about your stomach.’ Jade scoffed.

‘Obviously. A God’s got to keep properly fueled.’ Loki said as he patted his stomach.

‘I’d say you’re fueled up enough.’ Jade poked his stomach.

‘Oi.’ Loki glared at her and poked her back in her side, making her squeal loudly. ‘What on earth was that noise?’ Loki laughed and poked her a few more times to hear it again.

‘LOKI!’ She yelled and tried batting his hands away.

But he decided to grab and tickle her, getting more squeals and screams out of her.

‘You’re such a meanie.’ She gasped at him when he finally stopped, he was grinning wickedly.

‘You started it.’ Loki stuck his tongue out at her, making her roll her eyes. ‘Anyway, I have things to do.’

‘Like what? You just got here.’ Jade narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

‘Godly stuff.’ Loki shrugged.

‘Weirdo.’ Jade called after him, just earning a middle finger back in response.

-

It was a few days later and Jade was listening to music in her room in the early evening, when Loki just randomly teleported into her room, making her jump out of her skin.

‘Holy shit, Loki! You nearly gave me a heart attack!’ Jade screeched at him as she clutched her chest, her heart was racing fast.

‘Sorry, cupcake.’ Loki laughed.

‘What if I was naked or doing something private?’

‘Well, then I’d have had quite the feast for my eyes, wouldn’t I?’ Loki grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

‘Perv.’ Jade laughed and threw a pillow at him, but of course he caught it before it hit his face.

‘I didn’t want the others to know I’m in here.’

‘Well that sounds… ominous. If you’re planning to kill me, at least make it quick. I don’t do well with pain.’

Loki smirked and walked over to her, he put his hand out towards her. ‘Call this a willing kidnapping.’

Jade raised her eyebrow, but she took his hand and let him pull her up to her feet.

‘Where are we going?’ She asked.

Loki said nothing as he put his arm around her waist and tugged her in flush to his body. ‘You’ll see. Now keep close.’

[wooblrb]

the law of being friends with a male: chapter 3 :DD

genre,, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn ?? 

pairing: junghoon x fem!reader 

warnings: none that i seeee,, 

masterlist 𓇢𓆸

taglist ^-^: @dogyunslover  @fordohyon

a/n: i think this chapter is a lillll boring LOL but i hope you guys like ittt

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

you might be thinking..who is kim junghoon? well, to summarize…

he is ham jinsik’s childhood best friend. that’s it. that’s all he is to me 

now you might be thinking again… why our relationship is  like this? 

its because, although we get along when its me, jinsik, and junghoon all together, but when are left alone.. its awkward. 

every time i’m with jinsik, there was a 50% chance he was there with us. when its just the two of us.. the atmosphere because SUPER awkward. 

like the other day, all three of us were going to hang out, but jinsik was a little late. 

‘ahh jinsik when are you coming!’ i think to myself as i awkwardly stand next to junghoon. 

i decide that i should make some conversation with him so its not weird. 

“uh.. the weathers nice today.. isn’t it..?” i say with a nervous smile as i turn to him.  

but just as i say that.. it starts raining. 

‘of course that happens right at this second..’ 

i slowly turn my head away from him and just stand there stupidly in the rain. 

there just something about him.. that makes me feel awkward. he was a very intimidating aura. 

“you should take off your coat. to cover us from the rain.” junghoon says not looking at me.

‘…is he serious??’ 

i follow his words and take of my coat. 

“i was joking.” he says shortly after. 

(^^ that silly emoji again) 

its really hard to tell whether he’s joking or not. junghoon has a deep serious voice and he’s really tall. PLUS , there’s even some rumors about him beating people up in middle school.. 

‘but are those rumors even true? he doesn’t seem like the type to do that..’ 

back to the present~~~ 

“y/n, what are you looking at..?” junghoon asks again with his serious voice, confused. 

my eyes widen as i realize I’ve been spacing out while starting at him.  

‘maybe those rumors were true.. why is he so scary..’ 

“tch i was looking out the window behind you..” i say while looking away. 

“can you stop talking to me..? im trying to focus so i could get good grades..” i whisper to him.

“you don't even have your book open…” junghoon whispers back with his plain tone. 

i realize he's right soi slowly grab his book and put it between us, pretending to read. 

“oh god..” he says under his breath.  

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i have to figure out how i’m going to get out of this situation. 

if i tell jinsik that i don’t like junghoon, he will continue asking me who i like.. and i already have limited options because i said he’s from our school. he has to be tall.. same grade… handsome and from our grade.

something tells me.. that there is no one else that could replace that position. T-T 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

the bell rings indicting its time for our next which is P.E.  

i walk over to my locker and grab my p.e clothes.  

‘hmm is it better if i tell jinsik that i dont like junghoon anymore? i could say it was just a hallway crush.. that would be the best way to get out of this.’

suddenly, i feel a tap on my shoulder. snapping me out of my thoughts, i turn around and see jinsik smiling at me.  

“y/n! did you bring your spare set of p.e clothes? jiwoon told me you had some.” he asks while leaning against the other lockers next to mine. 

“oh  yea i do. why? you didnt bring yours?” i ask him as i grab my spare clothes and hand it to him. 

“thank you~ no i don’t need it.. can i lend it to someone else?” 

i nod my head ‘yes’ 

“yeah i don’t need them right now..” i say as we start waliking to the p.e area. 

once i change into my gear, i walk outside with the rest of my class waiting for the teacher to come. jinsik then comes along and start talking about random things. as we continue talking we see junghoon coming from a distance.. in super tight p.e gear. 

‘what kind of fit is that..’ 

“ah.. junghoon left his clothes and my house, and i forgot to bring them but…i think its a bit small…” 

“you think?” i say in shock as i look at junghoon in my spare p.e clothes. 

the jacket and sweatpants were looking like they were about to tear and it looks like his wrists are turning purple. 

“well.. i think its usable.” junghoon says with his serious voice and shrugs. 

‘ is he serious..’

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[radio-to-trenchcoat-demons]

First few pages of Ghost Stories (by me) is Out!!! Enjoy!!!

!heads-up! i put any other language in red for it to be easier to read, the story basically self explains the sentence and translates it for you so need to worry about language!!!

Languages Contained: Spanish, Portuguese. (more but we'll have to see how the story progresses)

GHOST STORIES

                                               By  Unt1t3d

                    Position for Hire: “J”

I don't like offices. I don’t know if it's because they mean that something uncomfortable is being discussed or that I didn’t organize anything myself, knowing that contents are probably where they don’t belong. This tossed here, That cast aside there. But this office I hated the most. Not only was I uncomfortable, I was being pestered about “How I felt” and, “What I should do to get on a healthier path in life”. I’ve never liked the ‘this is a safe space’ shit they rant. 

I didn’t need to get healthier mentally, I needed to get better physically. I needed money. “Justice, are you alright?” The Therapist was nagging me, I noticed. “Huh? Oh, Yeah. I agree.” I spaced off a lot so I just pretended I knew what anyone was saying in a conversation. “ I was just saying that you should get your work papers in order. I think a job might be just what you need to get yourself in the right headspace.” She said like she was talking to a toddler, writing notes on her notepad. Wow, I’m touched, she’s concerned. Aren't they all? I’ve had enough of the sympathetic 'Are you alright?’s Honestly, a ‘you're a crazy mother fucker’ once in a while is perfectly fine to balance out the chaos.

“So is your medication working? Do you still see…them?” She's talking about the shadowy friends of mine! Yeah, I still fucking see them even though you have me on enough meds to call me a drugaddict! In fact, I saw one on Tuesday, SUSAN. I’ve always been able to see them, even when I was younger, and they blamed it on a very rare, very young case of dementia. But these…things, aren't just figments of my imagination. They have minds of their own, taunting me all the time. It's the reason he’s gone. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen them in a while.” I say with a smile, so that she won’t prescribe me another pill. “Don’t we end in a few?” I say to hurry her along. She taps her skull, as if she’s just now remembering I have a life. “Oh, you’re right! Then we’ll pick this up next week.” Ew, I didn’t want to pick this up again next week. “Um, I’m going to get my papers organized, remember? I’m getting that job. So, if I just notify you, I don’t think meetings will be necessary as of right now.” I say impatiently with a weak smile, tapping my foot at godspeed. Man, she’s slow on the update. Maybe if She's smart enough she’ll realize what I’m trying to say. 

She gathers her things, clearly not in her right headspace as she throws it all recklessly in a tote bag. My OCD impulses twitch. “Oh, wow. Yeah, that is right! You have a way better memory than me!” she said over-enthusiastically. No wonder she was alway re-scheduling. “I suppose that’s alright, but if you're ever stressed, or need someone to talk to, call my number.” She said with a deeply concerned look. To be truthful, I lost her Number, but that’s just between you and me. “Yep. In fact, I’ll have you on speed-dial, just in case.” I tell her, my enthusiasm weak and my social battery draining fast. “Okay! You have a good rest of your day then!” She says with a cheery smile. Right, like hell I will.

  Yup. Sure will. Time to go home to Mamá and step-daddy and scrub the house clean, and cower away from David’s leather belt. I hate to be brutally honest like I always am, but they’re half the reason I’m in debt for these damn medical bills. I walk down the long flight of stairs and out of the building. Ugh, finally, I’m free.

                                                -X-

I hung my keys and walked into the kitchen and shouted, “I’M HOME!”.  No response, of course. I opened the door to my room and took a deep breath. Now I’m home. I closed the door because, privacy ya’ know? I hung my messenger bag on a decorative rung I had 3-d printed in sophomore year of Computer Design. I glanced at my neat wall of vinyl records with bands like “Nirvana” and “Los Campesinos”, right next to the picture of me smiling with my father. On my desk was a stack of books, things I was borrowing but now belong to me, a cup of pencils, and my PC setup I made myself, stickers plastering the frame.

I flopped on my bed, tired as hell. I pulled out my phone and selected a playlist, closing my eyes and drifting in and out of sleep. I dream of the shadows and VHS tapes changing and a loud static in my head. Everything is so unilluminated, and I’m scared, frightened out of my wit at whatever could come out of the wispy darkness. “Jay '' someone says. I look in the darkness, trying to detect where the voice is ringing from. “Jay” I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jolt awake and rub my eyes. When my vision focuses, my mom is standing in the middle of my room, cigarette in hand. “You were screamin’ again. Did you take your damn pills?” No, I hadn’t. I was supposed to take them even if I took a two minute nap. Or else I screamed like a madman.

“David isn’t coming home tonight.” She said, taking a drag of the cancer creator. “ ‘Work’?” I say, not looking at her. She breathes out. “Yeah, ‘work’. I figured you could use the stove tonight then.” She takes one last look at my room and walks out, her shirt askew across her small curved shoulders. She’s not the same anymore. After my dad died in that plane crash, she’s been doing all the wrong things with all the wrong people. I don’t understand why she would want to be in a relationship with that abusive fuck ‘David’ or whatever anyway. 

But she still does little things like this, letting me know if and when David’s going to be home, and letting me use the stove to make my empanadas and arroz Rojo or ‘foreign food’ as David calls it. He doesn’t let me cook because it’s too ‘spicy’ for him. 

I pull out all my spices and ingredients, ‘Summerland’ by Half Alive still playing in my ears. I’m in the zone, everything how I want it. Cooking the arroz and frying the meat and sauce for empanadas, carefully avoiding the paper cuts on my hands when dicing the jalapeno and cilantro. In the midst of cooking, I decide to make dessert, having a hard time picking either Tres Leches or Concha Bread. I would ask Mamá, but she was half asleep on the tattered La-Z-Boy in the parlor. So I just decide based on what we have the most.  A few hours later, mom wakes up, the smell of authentic Mexican food calling her. “Gracias por la comida hijo.” She says, eyes only half open. “De nada mami.” Spanish is another thing David doesn’t like. He can’t understand ‘taco bell’ as he calls it. “Pronto conseguiré un trabajo.” I’m getting a job, I tell Mamá. “¿un trabajo?” she says with no surprise. “¿Sabes cuál?” Do I know which one?  I was so focused on getting out of my meetings for a bit,that I hadn’t actually thought of what I would do. “Quizás algo en informática. Se paga bien.” I told her about my computer science classes and how the area of work paid well. Well enough to finish paying the debt to the bills I owed. 

“¿Cuándo te convertiste en un hombre tan adulto?”  When did I become such a grown man? She looks at me. “uh, el mes pasado mamá.” I had just turned 18 last month on November 7th. I was already an adult, technically. Mamá just looked at me and shook her head. “Ya sabes a qué me refiero, joven.” She said sassily. I laughed, enjoying our little corner of the universe, where we were safe. I brought out the Concha Bread and Mamá’s eyes lit up. “Mi Favorita! ” I smiled at her happiness, “¡Solo para ti! “. Just for you! “Hijo, ¡me estropeas!” You spoil me, She says with a laugh.

We finished dinner, and I tucked Mamá into bed. I piled up the dishes, planning to do them tomorrow, and pulled out my phone to look at available jobs in my area. I pulled up Yelp and look for an IT job. No such luck. I tried Indeed next, again, nada. The hours passed, websites were searched, and still, no IT or Cyber Security jobs in my area. 

I give up and try to find a decent paying job not too far from home.There are some alright ones and then there's the ones that look a little shady. I filter out my results so I don’t wish myself an early funeral. And then I found it, THE GOLDEN JOB!!! The golden job is this thing me and my computer friends would do when we were job hunting. You search for a job, filter it, and whoever had the best job at the end could dare anyone to do anything (within reason of course). One time, my friend Alex won and he got everybody to buy him something from DQ.

But this job seemed too good to be true. Just down town in the suburbs, away from the city, is a fancy estate house. The owners died a few years ago and this little old lady is looking for someone to clean it up for resale, as she is getting on in her years. The pay is good enough to pay for my bills though. All that's left now is to make the call…

  Question Everything: “Wil”

Do you ever get that feeling that you’re constantly being watched? Like eyes are constantly trained on you? As if existing is a cause for concern. “Hey Wil,can you pass me the arroz?” I snap out of my daze, “Huh? Oh sure, Tio.” The house is hectic today, cousins running around and Aunts and Uncles drinking and talking. Nobody in the family liked to be around me and Tio Hector felt bad about that, so he sat with me at all the family meets.

“Ei, você está bem?” Tio says, I smile dancing on his lips. I play along, “Sim, só pensando... e você?” I’m just thinking, what about you? I say this with the same smile playing on my lips. Tio just laughs, “You silly, I’m always fine! Como foi a terapia hoje?” He asks about therapy. He cares but I don’t need therapy. We’re just wasting money we don’t have. “Ah, o mesmo de sempre. Ela apenas traz à tona as mesmas coisas…” Same old, Same old. The lady doesn’t even have a plan for me to get ‘better’. Tio just smiles and says, “Talvez ela esteja louca!”. He bursts out with laughter, making the house feel a little more homely.

Some more family members enter the kitchen, filing up on more drinks and food. I feel so uncomfortable around them, as they do around me. A hate/hate relationship, I guess. Tio sensed my unease and acted as necessary. “Ignore-os, eles estão aqui apenas para ficar bêbados e conseguir babá de graça.” He said they’re alone at the event to get drunk and get free babysitting. He knew this would make me smile, because not only was it funny, it was true. 

I stand and push in my chair. “Vejo você mais tarde, tio. Tenho que ir para casa. Trabalho ocupado para ser feito.” Tio stands, “Trabalhar? OK, te vejo mais tarde. But don’t stress yourself! Or else you’ll end up like Aunt Maria!” He laughs. We hug and I leave, off to drive to my small apartment.

                                                  -X-

I got in and locked the doors and tossed my keys anywhere, I didn’t care at this point, my stuff was already everywhere. Boxes were still piled up from a month or two ago, from when I left the family house and moved out on my own. I toe my way on my cold floors, slowly inching my way to my room. LED lights are strung up, drawings and sketches hung up from AP Art classes. A picture of me and Tio sits on my nightstand. We were at a fair, eating bad funnel cakes and playing games. He won me the very avocado plushie that rests on my bed right now that day.

My laptop rests on my desk, covered in stickers I had designed myself, still open on my DAW program with a music track in queue. I slam it shut, too tired to even think about any actual work. I collapse to the bed. I don’t fall asleep, but just lay there. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with more scars. I lay horizontally, drinking in the late afternoon sunlight, absorbing all the details of my room. It’s kinda like when you’re waiting for something but can only leave at a certain time, so you wait and actually notice all the little things in your life.

A boom rings from upstairs. Ugh, the neighbors. I finally decided that I had rested long enough and had to do something productive. The therapist said something about getting a job or whatever, so that I could ‘get myself in the right headspace’. I already had a job, but it was one my family didn't approve of, and if I mentioned that to the therapist we would have a WHOLE discussion about ‘how that made me feel’ or, ‘what I could do to change their perspective’.

I didn’t have the time for that, and hell, I needed a buck. So, restlessly, I snatch my laptop and open Yelp and Indeed and other numerous job websites and applications. Hours later, you would think I would discover a decent art job! Even a graphics designer looking for an assistant in the heart of New York! But Nada. I gave up a half hour later, deciding to just filter my results for easy, high paying jobs in a calm area (so that way I wasn’t lost in Time Square).

What comes up is some crack-head craigslist kinda shit but some of the jobs are promising. I filter again to get rid of the cuckoo's and 9-5 jobs, settling for something more temp style. This narrows down my search even more, drastically not giving a fuck about my opinion, and only showing one or two results. Eenie Minie Moe later and I found the thing to shut Susan up about the job. A cleaning job, high pay, pick my own hours, AND! When the estate sells I get 2% of the profit sold. It’s this little old lady, selling the home and land of her dead son and daughter-in-law, just wanting to get it in shape before resale. 

I applied for the application and got it sent. I go to the kitchen to eat some trashy dried ramen in a bowl I haven’t washed in a week, and decide what time my body wants to deal with sleep and pain.

                                            -X-

I woke up late that morning, my knees bloodied. Fuck. I tip-toe to the bathroom and get out my huge first aid kit. I disinfect and clean, avoid infection and patch it all up with a huge band aid. I've learned the art of self-aid with my eyes closed and hands tied by now. Fixed, for now.

I checked my phone, surprised to see a notification from the lady with the estate this early. She says my application checks out and that the latest I can start today is 11:30 am. Well, at least I can choose when I leave. I glance at the clock, gauging how much time I get to blow before leaving to find the property. 10:29…okay. Shower, skip breakfast today, and attempt to clean. Like hell I'm gonna clean. It’s just not in my nature anymore.

Flashforward and I’m running to my car to get there on time because my sense of time is horrible. I showered and barely had time to get my boxers on. So, looking like a lunatic, brandishing my disheveled hair and soggy bandaids barely hanging on by a thread, I booked it to my car.

more to come soon!!

tagging:@thinkingaboutctommy @paldeanbooper (my writer buddy:@wiblursaystuff) @vibestillaxxx @gay-mooshrooms @colleenispunk @wormsinsdirt (another writer buddy:@teagica)