#actually I'm never moving on ever and i have to kill myself right this minute please god let me die i can't do this i don't want to do this

[cowardlycowboys]

what's funny is i finally finally see my therapist next Tuesday but like I don't need her anymore I'm good now

[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[sunflowerskies00]

bet my heart, part 8

but if there ever was a sure thing

series masterlist

I'm antsy throughout hair and makeup, a bundle of nerves, I physically can't get myself to sit still. I'm basically bouncing in my seat. I know it's driving Jax and Donna crazy because constant moving doesn't make for good hair or makeup outcomes. I can tell they want to know what's going on that's got me so worked up, but apparently the look of, all the emotions, on my face, is enough to keep them from asking and just doing their best to work around my fidgeting.

I'm constantly checking the time on my phone, watching the minutes I have to talk to Quinn dwindling down. I needed this conversation to happen before I went on stage, I could sense the shit storm that was brewing if I went on stage without getting to talk to him.

As soon as Jax and Donna are done, I'm out of the chair and on my way to find Quinn. This conversation needed to happen, and it was happening now. I knew I'd hear it from Lucy for not going straight to change, but she'd get over it if I told her the only way I could get on stage is if I talked to Quinn.

Ironically, I find him in my room backstage, sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He must have heard me walk into the room. because before I can say anything he looks up, and slides the phone into his pocket.

"Hey," I close the door behind me, the signal to everyone on my team that it is not the time to need me. Normally the door was open, but when it was closed, I was having me time.

"Hey," he responds. This was so awkward, I hated it. I didn't know how to act right now, and that's something that had never happened in our two-decade-long friendship.

"What's going on?" I blurt the question out. I couldn't play this awkward back and forth and beat around the bush any longer. "You freaked out over Riley and me and started acting hella weird and unlike you. You've never given a shit about a single guy I've dated," the words start coming and they don't stop. Word vomit, that's what was happening right now. "And then when I say something, you deny that something's up, and tell me we'll have this conversation when you come to see me, and now here we are. What fucking conversation do we need to have?" I finally take a breath. He raises an eyebrow at me, and he looks slightly amused. I'm baffled, because how is he trying to hold in a laugh right now?

"Anything else?" He asks me. I'm pretty sure my jaw hits the floor because he's asking me if there's anything else? Not starting to explain what on earth is happening?

"What do you mean anything else? Quinn, I've waited four days for an explanation. Four days of not knowing what the fuck was happening, and what that weird ass behavior was after my concert. And you're standing here asking me if there's anything el-," My words get cut off because his lips land on mine. My eyes widen in shock. It takes a minute to register what's happening, but when I do, I move my arms from their place at my sides before moving them to rest on his shoulders. His hands land on my hips, pulling me closer to him.

Was I dreaming? Was this just a really deep sleep and I wasn't actually making out with Quinn backstage at one of my shows? I don't know how long it is before one of us pulls away, not long enough.

"Quinn," I say as soon as we're not kissing.

"Sage," he has a smile on his face.

"What was that?"

"I thought it was obvious, that was a kiss."

"Don't be a smart ass," I say.

"We're more than friends Sage, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it. We've been avoiding it for so long, but we both know the feelings between us passed platonic a long time ago." He's right, I had been keeping feelings at bay for years.

"Yeah, you're right," my voice comes out very breathy, and almost inaudible.

"I'm in love with you Sage, have been for a long ass time. Calling you my friend kills me, because I'd rather be calling you my girlfriend." he says.

"I'm in love with you too," I miraculously form words and can say something.

"Well that's a relief because this would be really awkward otherwise," he has a teasing smile on his face. A knock on my door disrupts the moment we're having, and I know that means I have to start getting ready, they wouldn't be knocking otherwise. "You have a sold-out show to play," he looks at the door.

"Yeah," I sigh. I wasn't sad about having to play, but I wanted to stay back here with Quinn.

"Go," he nods towards the door. "I'm not going to change my mind in the two hours it takes you to play, you told me you loved me so now you're stuck with me for a very long time," he says.

"Is that so?" I smile.

"Mhm," he has a smirk on his face. I press my lips against his again, before the knocking starts again. I mutter something not very nice under my breath but go to the door, knowing I really did need to get ready to go on stage.

"So, I'm your girlfriend?" I ask before opening the door. He laughs and shakes his head.

"Only if I'm in your boyfriend," he comes back.

"Deal," I grin before leaving the dressing room before Lucy pulls me out by my ear.

[raina-at]

Mouse

In celebration of this fandom and how much fun I'm having right now, with the May prompts and the fic club, have a bonus ficlet set in my theatre universe . (Another one of my AUs ticked off the list) (short premise for those not familiar: John is a stage manager and Sherlock is an actor. Mary, Molly and Sally are all part of John's crew.)

This is especially for @totallysilvergirl and the members of the Johnlock fic club. You all know why.

Warning, mention of an accidental animal death.

Also, this is loosely based on a true story.

-------

“What on Earth are you doing?”

“Be quiet,” Molly shushes Sherlock as she drags him through the stage door into the green room area.

“Oh thank god.” John sighs in relief as he sees Sherlock enter the room. “Save me from this madness.”

“Sit back down, Watson, this is all your fault after all!” Mary snaps. She’s pregnant again and the glare she gives him is filled with the homicidal rage of the permanently uncomfortable.

John sits back down and sighs. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Molly pushes Sherlock into a chair. “You be quiet now, we’ll be done in five minutes.”

Molly sits on Mary’s other side on the floor and takes Sally’s hand, completing the circle.

Mary gestures to Molly. “Do you have the object?”

Molly produces the live mousetrap and puts it in the middle of the pentagram Mary has drawn on the floor. 

“I hate to repeat myself, but what the actual fuck are you doing?” Sherlock asks, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. 

They all turn their heads in surprise, because they all know how rarely Sherlock swears. 

“We’re doing an exorcism,” Molly explains. “John killed a mouse and now we’re haunted.”

“I didn’t, I repeat, DID NOT kill a mouse!” John very nearly yells, sick and tired of this argument. 

“You left the live trap open over a bank holiday weekend,” Mary growls. “The bloody mouse sprung it, died of thirst in it, and ever since we’ve had one accident after another. First my fucking brand new moving head blew on its second night, then Molly twisted her ankle, and yesterday you were nearly hit by a stage wall.”

“So did I understand this correctly? You, rational, adult, competent professionals, had a few easily explained accidents and then came to the inevitable conclusion that you’re being haunted by the angry spirit of a common house mouse?” Sherlock asks, steepling his hands under his chin. 

“Duh,” Molly mutters, rolling her eyes. 

“Anything to say, genius?” Mary asks, glaring at Sherlock in a way that makes John hope that Sherlock will consider the words that come out of his mouth next very, very carefully.

“You need sage,” Sherlock says after a moment of silent contemplation. “And candles.”

“You’re not fucking serious!” John stares at Sherlock as if he’s grown a second head, which would frankly have surprised John just a tiny bit more than the current development. “You’re superstitious? Since when?”

“All actors are superstitious,” Sherlock says, ducking into the tiny theatre kitchen. “It’s the better safe than sorry principle.” He comes back with mixed herb salt and some tealights. “This should do nicely. Budge over.” 

He sits between Sally and Molly and takes their hands.

“This must be what going mad feels like,” John mutters, but he takes Mary’s and Sally’s hands and completes the circle.

Mary shushes him and lights the candles. Then she shakes a bit of the salt over the live trap. She turns to John and gestures to the trap. “Now apologise.”

“But I—”

“I said,” Mary says with a smile sharper than a battleax. “Apologise.”

John clears his throat. “Um.” The thing is, he is sorry. He never meant to cause an animal’s death, even indirectly. They only ever use live traps for a reason. But he feels slightly ridiculous all the same. 

He knows this is necessary, though. Theatres are places where legends and superstitions and rituals live for generations. Case in point, no theatre person in their right mind would ever refer to the Scottish play by its actual name. Case in point, you never say good luck backstage. This is no different, he knows this.

Of course the knowledge doesn’t stop him from feeling completely ridiculous as he says, “I’m sorry, mouse spirit. I didn’t mean for you to die. Please forgive us and stop haunting our theatre. We’re really sorry.”

He puts a piece of cheese into the trap, and every member of his crew follows suit. Sherlock contributes another sprinkle of the herbal salt, and then Mary, in lieu of setting the trap on fire, which would trigger the smoke alarm, bashes it in with a cricket bat. It’s horribly loud, but the trap is unusable afterwards.

“Be at peace, little mouse,” Molly whispers, and John can see the tears in her eyes.

They all share a long look over the mouse trap, and then they burst out laughing.

“You’re all insane,” Sherlock says, but he’s laughing as well, and there’s a lot of affection in his voice.

“Yup,” John answers, still giggling a bit. This is my crew, he thinks. Dangerously foul-tempered, certifiably insane, scarily silly at times. And I couldn’t love them more for it. He looks at Sherlock, who’s watching him with sparkling eyes and so much unguarded affection, and he smiles. “And you fit right in.”

----

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @catlock-holmes @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra @friday411 @inevitably-johnlocked

[xb0rder-7inex]

I was moved to a women's shelter and let me tell how how much more fucking comfortable it is here.

For starters at the last shelter I met some people who already know who he is and already didn't like him before they saw me and that was unsettling for a few reasons but I won't go into details. I'm having a lot of anxiety tremors and there's nobody here to hold me and I'm trying to keep my head on straight and remember what I'm fighting for.

Every support worker here is a woman my age or only slightly older which makes them really easy to talk to. There are still a few "moms," but only a few. It definitely feels more like a camp than a shelter. I ate 3 healthy meals today. I took a 30 minute hot shower in a clean bathroom. I got to put on fresh clean pajamas that fit me. My bed is actually fucking warm. I'm allowed to use my own blanket. I can smoke weed in the parking lot. I'm not sleeping on a cot beside strangers and I have my own full sized locker. A little space to myself. These are all a relief because I will be here for quite a while. I'm glad they talked me into coming here.

I also talked to the courts today and they care about what I have to say about him and that's so fucking important to me. I talked with her on the phone for 20 minutes and she gave me a lot of positive feedback about options and reuniting families after safety plans have been put in place and I'm so fucking hopeful. I meet with her next week.

Guess the best place about rock bottom is that there's nowhere to go but up.

I have literally nobody left. My dad is helpful but my mom and I have nothing to talk about and I can't stay with either of them, especially if I want to get my life together in the way that I want to. My therapist and these support workers and some of the women staying here are the only people who get why I want to go back. It's so hard to talk about and if you think the stigma around bpd is bad I hope you never have to see the stigma around being a victim of dv who isn't ready to get out. Did you know victims will go back on average SEVEN times before they leave? I guess this is number two for me, but I had somewhere to go before and I genuinely believed he didn't want me anymore.

Still... This is 2 of ~7. That's just the statistics.

That's a long time for women to not have any of the support that they need. Everything is "let's keep you out" but I have had to FIND the people who say "let's keep you safe."

As hard as this is to do literally fucking alone, I am so proud of myself for being strong through this. So many times I wanted to die. So many times I wish he had killed me. And I'm proving to myself exactly who I fucking am, both who I am to myself and who I am to him. And I refuse to betray that. I made certain commitments when I went back and I'm sticking to those commitments.

I have been emailing him several times a day but he obviously isn't allowed to talk to me so he doesn't respond. I don't know if he even opens them. I'm not blocked on snapchat and that's a good indication for me that he isn't done being in my life, although my biggest fear right now is that he doesn't care even though I know that's not who he actually is. He isn't a monster, he's just spent his entire fucking life being told that he is. I don't expect anyone to understand or be supportive but I always knew this day would come. I always fucking knew what my place in his life would mean.

I really do hope he fucking learns from this. I really fucking hope he sees that I'm fighting FOR him and realises that and doesn't take it for granted because I have never been so fucking low in my life.

I have never had this level of unconditional love for anybody, ever. And if he ever tries to tell me again that I don't fucking love him then I stg he better just kill me next time.

[dimonds456]

so. apparently i'm malnurished. (vent/PSA below)

Protip: when you move out to live on your own, DO NOT only eat microwavable food. This will actually kill your body.

I am now at a point where I cannot eat anything that has preservatives or too much sodium (salt) in it. I do not know how to cook for myself, and am now living on nightmare mode because my brain is actively rejecting anything I eat that isn't fresh. I've been okay so far, but my weight, strength, general brain-ing, and other disabilities have all been on a steady decline since I moved out of my parent's house two years ago.

My mental state has also been spiraling with it. My anxiety is 10x worse than it's ever been in my life, causing me to panic over the smallest little things for no real reason. Now that I know that my diet has been slowly killing me, this makes sense.

It also explains why I'm so fucking cold all the time, or why all my symptoms for all of my disabilities have gotten worse. I cannot even take my 5-minute walk home from work without being winded, or even play piano because my arms will hurt from holding them out for too long, simply because I do not have enough energy/strength in my body because I wasn't eating correctly.

This time last year I was convinced I was going to die, and part of the reason why was because A) I was on the wrong dosage of methamizole (which I need to live) and B) I kept missing doctor's appointments. And, now, apparently C) because all I'd been eating at the time was those $1 pot pies and Ramen food packs.

I physically cannot eat frozen foods anymore, I actively cannot. Like literally cannot, my body won't let me even swallow it.

I'm literally living on Sudden Death Mode because this has been building for two years and I never fucking realized until about a month and a half ago, and didn't do anything about it until last fucking week.

Don't do this. PSA.

I now have to speed-learn how to cook my own meals, by myself, while juggling work and taking into account how many spoons (read: energy) I have for that day and trying to just make it. If I don't have the energy to cook anything, then I won't have any food for the next day, and then that'll make me have even less energy.

I'm realizing now that this shit, this shit right here, is probably the core of why I've been acting so off recently. It all stems back to what I've been eating. It's been actively affecting my brain for TWO YEARS, like no shit I don't feel as creative as I did before I left, I've been eating nothing but garbage and now my body is starting to rot with it!

Hopefully I can get the hang of cooking fast, otherwise I am fuuuucked.

[jessnotfoundd]

𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: cc!Karl Jacobs x reader!

Masterlist here!

Karl and I were playfully fighting over something ridiculous until it turns out to be an actual fight.

-I can't believe you haven't killed each other yet.- George speak and we turn to face him-

-Well.- i smirk looking at karl.

-We shared a dorm at college, if we could survive that, we could survive anything.- he laughs when finishing the sentence and I join him nodding.

Karl finishes the fight and hugs me.

-Isn't amazing how we were just friends at college and now we are literally dating?- he showers my face in kisses.

-Yeah, it actually is.- I kiss his lips. -I'm enchanted to meet you.- we smile.

We keep hanging out with the boys who claimed to be overwhelmed by how clingy we were.

After a few years, we were both trying to make the next step: move together but something was out of place, Karl was being a little distant and I couldn't stop my thoughts about how he probably is over with me and wants to break up.

My phone rang and I pick up, it was him.

-So, hey babe, do you think I can pick you up now?- he asks and I just see myself in the mirror.

-For what?- I walk to my room and straight to my closet.

-Just dinner.- I hear the car door locking.

-Okay.-

-I'll see you in like ten minutes, love you.- he sings the love you and I feel my heart melt like the first time.

-Love you too.- I hang up the phone and change my clothes quickly.

I slip into some black jeans and a T-shirt, due he never told me how I should dress. Some shoes and I was ready, take my phone, and made my way to the driveway just to see Karl's car a block away.

-Are you single beautiful?- he jokes right after rolling the window down.

-No, I have an extremely hot boyfriend, sorry.- I joke back getting into the car to smooch him.

The food was incredible, and he took me to my favorite restaurant, which is where he took me on our first date.

-Do you think you could wait for me a minute?- he says and I nod.

He turns and left in the direction of the bathrooms.

When he came back, he kneel down to grab something, and then I realize. He was on one knee.

-Well, I´ve been trying to find a good way to say this, there are so many ways of proposing, but I wanted to make this all about us being teenagers and enjoying each other's presence in the slightest. I feel like we are together since before being actually born, I want to grow old with you, I want to have babies with you, all I have I want to share with you, would you marry me?- he holds the tiny box in his hands shaking and waiting for my answer.

-Yes, I want to do all those things with you, I do want to marry you.- he smiles and slips the ring on my finger, I pull him from the collar of his t-shirt and kiss him.

A few weeks later, a lot of boxes were decorating Karls's house.

-I didn't realize you had so many things until now.- he smirks and I follow him.

-All I actually need, it's you.- I sit on his lap on the couch we was sitting on.

-You're also I´ll I ever wanted and all I need.- he pulls me for a kiss that deepens second over second.

-NOp, Jacobs up, there are a lot of things to do instead of this.

-But just a few minutes.- he pouts.

-When we finish all.- I wink at him and he gets up to start helping me.

-Wow, that winks says a lot about you.- we both laugh.-Is my girlfriend a perv?- he smirks

-I'm not you're girlfriend anymore.- I make him stand.-We're getting married in less than a month.-

-You can't leave me now, you're mine.- he leans his face closer to mine.

-I've been always yours- I close the gap between our lips and smile.

[an-entity-i-think]

The Joker Should Choke

I've seen a few posts about how even if Jason got Bruce to kill the Joker it wouldn't change anything because what happened to Jason still happened and nothing can change the past and like... maybe? But I can't help but completely disagree!!

The thing is, what happened to Jason was terrible and traumatic and horrible, but not everything is about trying to fix him and his past lol

In the PRESENT time, the RIGHT NOW, he is a scared traumatized teenager who has to hear about his murderer (abuser) on the news get away with more murders and abuse!

Do you know what I did when I was a scared traumatized teenager to my abuser? I stood over him with a knife in my hand for twenty minutes while he was sleeping trying to convince myself to set myself and my siblings free before falling into a deep depression that lasted years because he not not only ruined my life- but also ruined my morality after giving me the ability to feel such deep hatred that I was willing to kill to be free.

The will to kill is not something you're born with; it's something cultivated through time.

I was (and still am) against the death penalty, but after a Big Event, it shifted and I gained the understanding of 'oh I won't do it but I understand'.

I did not kill him. But I did get wildly depressed and mood swingy which with Jason I'm sure would have been (and was!) even worse for a few years due to the pit.

And then he died. A heart attack, I was upstairs at the time doing school online and I came downstairs to see his dead body and I cheered before calling 911.

Is that sane and healthy and normal? Not in the least!

But he was gone! I was free! Is it terrible because all human life has a worth? Sure! But on the other hand, as soon as he died I felt like I was finally able to breathe because he could never hurt me or anyone else ever again.

Now not everyone reacts the same way to trauma of course but I can't help but think murdering Joker would actually change everything.

Because it's not (just) about the fact that he died and the world kept going. Because the thing is, if he stayed dead, that's what would have happened! Because the world keeps going!

But he came back! He came back from hell and beyond just to be stuck in the exact! Same! Place! Of being the scared traumatized teen he was right before he died! Hell to hell! He didn't even get a chance to be free! To breathe!

As soon as my abuser died, I felt like I could breathe and relax for the first time in forever! Did it fix my depression immediately? Fuck no! But I got better and better without a cinder block chained to my ankle!

I fully support Bruce not killing the Joker because Bruce can't kill or he will break! But when Joker does die? When he is murdered or drops dead? I can't help but believe a part of Jason will be able to breathe again and start to move on. Because maybe some people can just leave the situation and start the process of moving on- but the weight would still be there. It'll always be there until it's suddenly gone and maybe it doesn't change anything for some people- but for me I felt brand new.

[pondscummy]

the "also sick" comment isn't like "btw I'm SICK, how dare you not know" it's me saying I'm sick like how 2/3 of my roommates are

but like I'm so;;;; it feels so rich that L is like wtf do you want from me about me not replying for 45 minutes when I had to beg his gf over hours and hours of texts every so often to not force me to sit in unwiped shit after my surgery bc she had openly told me she just didn't rly feel like setting up the attachable bidet after telling me for weeks she would, and I never ever got a reply from her or L ever acknowledging that they were wide awake hanging out and laughing while I was like stuck in bed barely able to move begging for follow through on a commitment they made in advance and i eventually had to spend over $100 to hire someone to come out the next day and do it for me and I had to hold my shit for hours lmfao

like L is sooooo great at couching things in flawless tumblr wellness speak but only to talk about how valid they are for not showing up for you and how fucked up it is that you MIGHT ever have a moment where you can't be 100% there w them. like idk what to tell you I've been laying in bed with a sore throat and cough and fever passing out and waking up to roll over in buckets of sweat like the rest of the house. I do genuinely get being annoyed by a lack of response but it's also right back to this whole thing about Always assuming I'm mad at them which is legit one of the only things that actually makes me mad fjdkddhk like bro I do not THINK about you when you're not acting like I'm a bomb about to blow (also, as an aside -- we all take turns buying TP and it's usually me who does it like it's not out of pocket for me to say hey you are the One person who is out of the house already rn, can you get this on your way bc None of the bathrooms have back up rolls and one is totally out and I had to text our sickest roommate telling her to use the bidet and drip dry like.... "am I the first person you asked" yes bc you are the person who makes the most sense dumbfuck. I'm not being "overly needy" toward you or whatever jfc)

they literally told me at one point that the reason they're so scared of me is that my face is "triggering" for them when I'm angry or not feeling good and puts them "back in a really bad place" they have seen my face angry literally 3 times and each time it was on my way back to my room to decompress and each time I said nothing to them other than that I was in a bad mood and I was going to go to my room. I didn't yell either I just said it normal. like I genuinely feel gaslit here like I'm this horrifying monster of a man when it's like dude sometimes people are mad I don't know what YOU want from ME!! I do all my venting here where they can't ever see it even tho we've blocked each other, I censor their name like anyone even knows who they are, I isolate to chill out and it's literally been less than a handful of times like should I fling myself from the roof??????? would that fix it???

I literally know it's bc I'm a man too. none of this was like this until my facial hair came in more and it got crazy worse after I got top surgery and they're so so vocal about how much they despise men and think men should all fuck off and die and there's only a handful of acceptable men that they've personally vetted. despite them pretty clearly having a trans woman fetish bc they only date or look at porn of trans women and they do the whole step on me mommy thing about it even tho their gf has complained like. lmfao you're just a baby te//rf even tho you ID as trans masc yourself. like that's all this even is. I'm a big (5'3") scary (spent the whole weekend w my coworkers asking if I was 12) man who's obviously going to snap and kill you all bc sometimes I *checks writing on hand* get frustrated and go lay down about it

[delilahcalicocat]

~Ours~

{Rating: So much Smut, Angst, Fluff}

{Warnings: Kissing, Hugging, Mentions Of Cheating, Crying, Screaming, Swearing, Polyamrous relationship, Jealousy, Kinks (Daddy kink, Tear Kink, Spit Kink) Sex Toy Use, Throat Fucking, Unprotected sex (please properly wrap it up), Going against myself here but mentions of Abvse.}

《Pairing: The Best Friends x Kelani White》

[]Summary: It was Easter weekend, Saturday of Collison. And Kelani gets up at 6:00am to a rather upsetting text message, but her early Easter present is to come.[]

[Kelani's POV:]

I'm returning to wrestling soon enough, but it's Easter weekend, I was getting ready for bed because I have to get up early tomorrow to help my Brother Jay and Sister Sophie with the Easter Ham.

I sat at the counter for a few moments, and started to fall asleep.

I was dreaming.. of what Trent and Chuck said a few weeks ago.. their words humming in my head like a bullet.

"If he ever treats you wrong, come see us. You'll be ours."

I was so Desperate for them, yet my boyfriend. Will Strong, Wouldn't even let me go grocery shopping (fucking jesus)

I decided to go in the group us wrestlers have and add Trent and Chuck to my Contacts.. in case Will goes off...

★– Next Morning –★

"WHERE ARE YOU YA FUCKING CUNT!" Will shouted, awakening me from my slumber..

I stayed silent... I couldn't speak, I couldn't fight back against this Asshole I call a boyfriend.. I don't wanna end up with a gash in my arm again...

"Hey.. how soon can you two get here?" "Pretty Soon why?" "Please Fucking hurry! My bf is going berserk and it's 7:00am.." "Oh shit. Me and Trent'll be there in a couple minutes, where ya at right now?" "Under my Goddamn Bed! I don't wanna get almost killed last time he fucking blew a fuse.." "Alright, Trent is already in the car. Stay put and silent. Be there in 5, Sweetheart"

The use of the nickname sweetheart, made my heart flutter a bit.. considering he'd never called me that before. But after I messaged Chuck. I shot my brother a text

"Jay, Soph and you are on your own.. Sorry but I'm hiding under my bed while police come to arrest Will, and I'm being picked up by a friend" "Jesus How the bloody fuck, do ya keeping agitating that asshole? Fucking break up with him"

I thought I was in the clear, until I heard some girl come over to my house. Her name was Patricia, she was William's side bitch.

Suddenly he was interrupted by Trent and Chuck. Who walked in and said a old friend asked if they could pick something up from the house, which that was me..

I was silently sobbing by the time Chuck found me, and they got me outside speedily..

"So, what's on the itinerary? Having sex until we drop?" Trent Teased.

I blushed heavily and tried to nod but my head was stilled aswell, I felt my cunt clench around nothing and I was so horny in that moment..

"I think she liked that idea Trent" Chuck Spoke loudly, snapping me out of my trance-like state

I only nodded. I couldn't speak, my pussy was fucking clenching like a vise grip. so this was my first fucking time because Will never fucked me until I passed out.

Sure it wasn't my first time, but I have a feeling my legs and pussy will sore by tomorrow morning.

I was so fucking horny at this point.

I sighed and tried to ignore the horny twins as we drove back to Chuck's place.

I scrolled through my phone deleting my photos with my Ex, I sent him one last message...

"Hey Will. We are Over, nothing either of us did. I am just tired of dating. So we're breaking up." "Do you assume I was cheating or something? Why are you breaking up with me? I wasn't FUCKING CHEATING!! COME BACK TO THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW SO I CAN TEACH YOU A LESSON YOU BITCH!"

I did... the one thing I could think of, I gave my phone to Chuck..

"Who in the actual fuck are you to tell her to come home? She's not a pet. She's not a slut. She's a human, like everyone else in the world you fucking asshole. And before you claim she's moved on in life. This is her Old friend. Chuck. So seriously go fuck off somewhere else you piece of shit cheater."

I panicked after he gave me my phone back.. seeing the whole ass paper he wrote on my phone, I knew I was gonna pay for this unless Trent Had turned off the air tag on my IPhone..

——————————🍄——————————

After we got to Chuck's House, I sat for a few moments. Trying to understand I broke free of my now ex-... wow it felt exhilarating..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And this is how I now find myself, pinned down, Trent was fucking me at pace that was making me wanna cry. But between choked gasps and attempts to breathe I couldn't cry, because Chuck was literally making me almost gag around his cock.

"Such a good girl, taking us like this.." Chuck Groaned, before he came without warning.

After he pulled out of my mouth, I gasped..

Finally being able to breathe only for that breath to be cut off by me screaming as Trent then Came

"F-Fuck.." Trent Gasped

I exhaled and inhaled rapidly, a attempt to catch my breath.

I didn't want this I needed it...

My Legs were trembling, as they coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of me.. I felt like I was about to collapse at the 10th round.

This time, Trent invading my throat as Chuck fucked me at an even harder pace...

"Holy Fuck, do you think her ex will be mad? Since we've shown her an actual good sex life?" Trent Asked Chuck

As they both came with groans, I was beginning to fall asleep.

The amount of spit, I had in my mouth after Trent came made him hornier.

I was fucked out, quite literally fucked dumb.

I had called them both Daddy so.. many.. times... My tears made Chuck fuck me harder...

I had finally fell asleep after the 10th round

——————————🍄——————————

I woke up the next morning, to them making breakfast and me in One of Chuck's shirts.

My phone was also pinging off the Hook

"Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT! Girly! You didn't tell us you are dating Trent and Chuck! So glad you broke up with William!"

That was my little sister Sophie who'd messaged me, turns out. After I fell asleep, Trent and Chuck posted that I'd finally broken up with Will, and I was dating them.

Will had broke his phone, and his side chick's who'd he been giving my money to. Broke up with him. He is now super jealous and I don't really regret last night.

And I'm Terrified now, they said they wanna try some new shit tonight. My legs are gonna be soooooo sore tomorrow

"Good Mornin' Baby~" Chuck Spoke

"Good Morning.." I hummed still slightly Sleepy.

"C'mom, we'll get ya ready for breakfast. And most likely another nap." Chuck Spoke grabbing me one of my shirts from my bag, I was still in the bed at this point though.

He helped me out of the bed, helped me get dressed and we went downstairs to eat.

A/N: New Cody Fic in the works, sorry this took so long. I was gonna release it on Easter, but I was busy and then I was busy with babysitting my sister on Monday and Tuesday. I have to babysit on Friday and Saturday too. So don't panic if I don't post

[thelittlestspider]

an excerpt from Friend You Can Keep that i wrote in one sitting wherein peter and ash are in their honeymoon phase, and matt extorts johnny in exchange for staying at his place.

“Johnny, I'm not kicking you out, but you have to crash somewhere else for a few days,” said Peter, matter of fact.

“Why?” asked Johnny, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Because if you don't, you won't get any sleep.”

Johnny blinked. Wait a minute. His eyes widened in understanding.

“So you and Ash?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah.”

His eyes were soft and his smile was dopey. Love looked good on him. Johnny was happy for him, even if his heart panged that he wasn't part of it.

“Y'know, if you guys ever need a third…” Johnny waggled his brows. He half-meant it as a joke, but to his surprise, Peter said, “We'd be happy to have you. But I kind of want him to myself for a while.”

“So you're not mad about me and Ash?” Johnny asked cautiously, afraid to upset this moment of gracious maturity from Peter. But like, he had to know everything was cool before he made any moves here. After all, what if Peter woke up tomorrow deciding to be a jealous maniac again? Though that angry stare was pretty sexy…

Peter looked thoughtful. “We talked about it some the other day.” He swished his coffee around. “Ash loves you, I love you.” Johnny's eyes went big with shock.

“You love me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Tears welled up in Johnny's eyes as he stood up to kiss Peter, laughing with happiness as he wrapped his arms around his best friend. It was a terrible kiss. Mostly because they couldn't stop smiling. But Johnny wouldn't trade it for the world.

“I love you too,” Johnny said against Peter's cheek. “So, so much it's insane. God, I thought I'd never have this.”

“There's some stuff we need to talk about,” interrupted Peter. Uh oh. Johnny frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. That could mean literally anything.

“Like what?”

Play it cool, Johnny.

“Matt,” Peter said simply.

Johnny groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“Oh my God, don't talk to me about Matt. The man's impossible!” Ugh, the nerve of that man, ruining yet another fine moment in Johnny's life. If the guy wasn't so damn miserable right now, Johnny'd curse him.

Why did everything have to come back to Matt? What did Peter see in him? Sure he was older and kind of sexy, and he had the whole Daredevil lawyer thing working for him, but he was also an asshole who wore grandpa sweaters and messed with Johnny every chance he got. It was like being picked on by an 80 year old grandpa in the body of a 38 year old acrobat.

Johnny could light himself on fire, but he was convinced Matt was actually made of hellfire.

“Uuuugh,” groaned Johnny.

“He's not that bad,” argued Peter.

Peter was blinded by love. He didn't know what he was talking about.

“He's insufferable.”

“You're also insufferable,” pointed out Peter, unhelpfully. Johnny glared at him. Peter stared back at him, unmoved. He sipped his coffee.

One, two, three.

“I guess,” Johnny ground out, “I can get along with Matt. For your sake.” Compromise sucked. Compromise was the enemy of the people.

“Good, because your options are your family, Matt, or Clint.”

Johnny's mouth dropped.

“You wouldn't.”

Peter smirked behind his mug.

“I would.”

Evil, sexy bastard. God, Johnny wanted to kill him. Maybe he could get Ash to run interference.

“Ash can't help you out of this.”

Damn it.

Johnny weighed his options. He could go stay with his family for a few days while Peter and Ash went through their honeymoon phase; con, he'd have zero privacy. Option 2: Clint. Natasha was on a job right now, so Clint might be lonely and appreciate the company. Con: Lucky and Liho wouldn't let him sleep.

Wade was out because of Valentine and Vanessa. Shit. Johnny scrunched his face. He was going to have to suck it up and call Matt.

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“Love you,” Peter said, sweetly.

Fuck his stupid life.

…

“Hey Matt,” started Johnny, already feeling awkward about this.

“Hi Johnny,” answered Matt. His voice was smooth and cool like water. Unbothered. Like Johnny calling was something that happened every day and they hadn't been mortal enemies for the past ten years. He was so weird. Johnny hated him.

“So I have a favor to ask,” Johnny inhaled through his nose, bracing himself. “I need to stay at your place for a few days.”

There was perfect silence on the other end. Matt was surprised. Then after a few moments Matt's stupid, smug voice asked, “What's in it for me?”

“Whadda mean, what's in it for you?” Johnny asked, feeling annoyance wash through him. “You want me to clean for you or something?” He didn't think Matt would be enthusiastic about it, but he didn't think Matt would be this much of an asshole about it either.

“You could help Foggy balance the books.”

“But that could take forever!”

“Take it or leave it.”

Ugh.

“Fine.”

“Then you've got a deal.”

“I hate you. Tell Foggy and Kirsten hi for me.”

That stung Matt a bit. He didn't answer. The dial tone sounded.

Wow, he hung up on him. Johnny didn't know what he expected.

[digital-corruption]

I'm not happy with it, but I am sick of editing this chapter and I want to move on. Otherwise, I'll never finish it.

⚠️ Trigger warning: PTSD episode, choking

Unrecognisable Part 49

Fire. Everywhere. As far as the eye could see. I tried to find my way out, but all I could see were flames and it didn’t help that every next breath was emptier than the previous. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I turned back to look at Jake, but where his hand had once been there was nothing but fire creeping up my arm. In that moment my heart stopped as I realised I was done for. I would die in this fire and nothing would be left behind. I didn’t want to die, I wanted to live. Live, damnit, live!

I jumped up in a cold sweat, my heart racing in a panic. My eyes darted around the room, trying to remember where the hell I was. Rundown, abandoned office. Old, ratty leather couch. That’s right, the warehouse. Sighing, I wiped my temple of the sweat and my cheek of the tears. Shit, that was worst and most vivid nightmare I had in ages. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel the heat of the fire. I glanced down and remembered the burns on my fore arms beneath the bandages. That’s right, not all of it was a dream. Some of it, no, most of it was real.

I sunk down and hugged my knees lightly while my mind ran through the events of the night before. I felt the pain of Cyan pinning me to the ground, syringe in his hand, coming so close to injecting me with liquid poison. I remembered hearing the roar of Jake’s voice cut through the room before he tackled Cyan and wrestled him for control. The look in Jake’s eye as Cyan bled out beneath him still sent chills down my spine. It was as if it had been a game – a game with the odds completely stacked against Jake. He won and basked in the victory while his opponent died

However, that moment was brief - that gloat turned to terror.

I winced as I could still taste the smoke on the back of my throat. I wondered how much mouth wash I would have to gargle to get rid of the awful taste. Or was it just one of those things I could never get rid of? Would I regain my sense of smell, or would I only ever be able to smell smoke forever more? Would I always be cursed to remember the night in perfect definition?

My phone beeped several times, which broke my concentration. I stared at it for a minute while I tried to decide whether I would even bother checking it. My curiosity won in the end.

Trix: Holy fuck! What the fuck did you two do!?

Trix: You killed Cyanide!? You actually fucking killed him!?

Trix: What the fuck were you thinking!?!!

Trix: OMFG…

Trix: There’s going to be a power vacuum a mile wide because of you!

Trix: Shit! All hell is going to break loose!

Trix: Why the fuck did you have to kill him!?

I turned the screen off and tossed the phone onto the floor. As if I cared about Colville’s underground politics. They could self-destruct on each other, and I wouldn’t blink an eye. So long as they stayed the fuck out of our way.

I stood up and stretched out gingerly. My crusted burns painfully threatened to weep again if I pushed them too much. I spotted a glass of water on the desk. I knew it was already mixed with Jake’s pain medication. I picked it up and downed it in one go.

‘Or let them come. We could use the stress relief,’ I thought to myself.

Let them come. Let them burn.

I could hear Jake’s dark voice in my head even though he never said those things. Somehow I heard them as clear as day and it made me smile. Suddenly I had renewed strength and was ready to face the day.

Thinking of Jake, I went to check on him. Had he been up all night working again? I expected to find him sitting at his desk as usual, but strangely the desk was vacant. I walked over and found his laptop had been left to run a process, but it had already finished. So where was the user?

A faint sniffle from the far end of the floor caught my attention. Zigging and zagging through the random scattering of desks and chairs, I found Jake sitting on the floor with his head in his knees in the far corner of the loft. His entire body was shivering, no, shaking. I knelt down beside him and put my hand on his back. His entire body jumped at my sudden touch. He raised his head slightly in response. His face was pale and his eyes were wide while his breathing trembled.

“Jake,” I cooed. “Jake, you’re safe.”

No response. The closer I looked, the more I noticed. His pupils were dilated. There was a tiny bit of dried blood on his lip where he had bit it too hard. His fingernails had bent and broke badly from digging them too hard into his pants. How long had he been like this?

“Jake, you’re not in the mines, you’re not in the fire. You’re… here,” I gestured to our surroundings with my head. “You’re home, for lack of a better word.”

“Find R-richy…” Jake shuddered.

“No, Jake, you don’t have to find him. He’s in prison, remember?” I smiled gently. “That was a very long time ago. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

I paused for a moment and waited for any sort of reaction from Jake, but he couldn’t hear me. I sighed with regret, knowing that I had caused this new series of episodes. Somehow, I had to get Jake out of the mental prison. It hurt so much to see him suffer like this, especially after having a taste of it myself. But how?

Out of nowhere, Jake snapped around and grabbed my wrist. As if the pain of that wasn’t enough, he twisted it and pushed me off balance. I fell backwards onto the floor with a thud. I screamed out from the searing pain of my burns being so harshly manhandled, but my cries were cut off by Jake’s hand at my throat. Unlike his taunts of the past, he squeezed hard, stifling the life from me, while he stared at me with dead, cold eyes. I clawed desperately at his hand, trying to get him to release me, but he was too strong.

“Jake!” I barely got out.

I stared deep into his cold, blank eyes hoping for any sort of recognition of what was happening, but I got nothing. Quickly strength drained from my body. My vision began to tunnel as my consciousness started to fade. The consideration that I could die right then and there suddenly became a frighteningly real possibility. My heart beat so heavily it felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. With the little vigour I had left, I shot daggers into the eyes of my possessed assaulter. Wake up damnit!

Suddenly Jake’s eyes widened as a wave of realisation washed over him. He immediately let go and jumped off me. I turned over and coughed uncontrollably as oxygen flooded my brain again. I was so deafened by the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears that I could barely make out Jake screaming in agony until my heart rate started to recover.

“No!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs. “Why? Why!?”

I tried to speak, but the only sound that came out of my throat was a cracked, broken mess. Jake buried his face in his knees again while his hands pulled at his hair. He let out a tortured wail into his thighs. I crawled over to him and lifted his head up with my hands cupping his cheeks. His expression was so full of pain and remorse that I couldn’t hold back my own tears. I leant my forehead against his and we cried together.

After a while Jake gritted his teeth and spoke up, “I’m so fucked up.”

“That’s why we’re seeing the doctor,” I hoarsely reminded him.

“What if he can’t help me?” Jake bit his lip hard. “Fuck, MC, I was so close to killing you.”

“Jake-“ my voice croaked.

“Don’t you dare say it’s ok because it’s not!” he snapped. “A few seconds longer and…”

I wiped his tears from his cheeks with my thumbs, then kisses his lips. “Tonight, Jake, tonight you’re meeting with the doctor and you’re going to get a handle on this!”

“I wouldn’t need it if it wasn’t for Richy!” he exclaimed. “He’s the reason I’m like this! He turned me into a pathetic, weak, deranged fuck up!”

“And he’s paying the price for it,” I reminded him.

“No…” Jake shook his head and his eyes turned dark. “He’s paid a pittance for what he’s done. His entire existence is a mistake!”

I realised there was no point in trying to argue with him, the best thing I could do was distract him from the topic. I raised my arms and took a good look at the bandages. They got rather bunched up and dishevelled during Jake’s episode, and my wounds wept so much, there was no point trying to salvage these. I needed fresh bandages.

“Did I do that?” Jake anguished.

“Let’s not focus on that,” I glanced up at him. “You can’t change the past, but the now you can change. Will you help me clean these?”

“I caused you so much pain… Only if you would have me,” he said full of guilt. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Then let’s go downstairs,” I stood up carefully.

Jake remained on the floor and with a pained expression, looked up at me, as if he didn’t deserve to stand. I held out my hand to help him up. He took it and pressed his forehead onto the back of my hand apologetically.

“I-I can’t say I forgive you,” I admitted.

“Nor should you. I won’t ever bother asking you to,” he muttered. “This is already much more than I deserve.”

“Jake, that’s not true,” I frowned. “You need help. Everyone deserves help.”

“No, not everyone,” he shook his head.

“Yes, you,” I rolled my eyes.

Jake raised his head and kissed my fingertips, “These are still so clean.”

“No, they’re not,” I sighed.

“They’re cleaner than you think. I don’t deserve this hand. I will only taint it,” he rambled.

“Jake, come on, get up,” I frowned.

Jake looked into my eyes as he put his lips around my pointer and middle fingers and softly lowered his mouth until he was past the second knuckle.

“Something tells me you want to taint it,” I raised my eyebrow.

Jake pulled my fingers out of his mouth leaving a trail of saliva between his lips and my fingers, “I want to corrupt all of you. I will if you keep letting me.”

I swallowed uncomfortably. There was such a darkness around Jake, and it had taken complete control of him. It threatened to engulf and pull me under with him. Oh how easy it would have been to let it consume me. No, my ego had to continue taunting it, thinking I had the upper hand and could control it. I pressed my fingertips against Jake’s lips then shoved my fingers back into his mouth. He eagerly started sucking on them, running his tongue lovingly along their length. I nearly fell into temptation, but the persistent pain on my arms reminded me that there were more pressing matters to take care of. I pulled my fingers back out and then lightly held his chin.

“Stand up, Jake,” I commanded, tugging the invisible leash.

Obediently, Jake stood up and followed me downstairs to the bathroom. I started to go through the first aid kit for the antiseptic solution, but Jake stopped me. He took my left arm and carefully unwound the ruined bandage, then proceeded to thoroughly clean the open burns and blisters. He reapplied the burn cream from the night before and pulled out a fresh bandage to rewrap my arm. After meticulously caring for my left arm, he repeated the process for my right arm just as diligently. Watching him, it was hard to think he was the same person who nearly killed me less than an hour ago. Glancing in the mirror, I noticed the bruise marks already starting to appear around my neck. The juxtaposition was so extreme that if it wasn’t for the physical evidence of Jake’s episode, I would’ve thought that I had imagined it, like it was a bad nightmare. It was too easy to forget how quickly he could snap.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Jake buried himself in his work, trying to distract himself from recent events. While he was occupied, I checked the news online to see what was being discussed about the fire. Generally the census was that the authorities had no information regarding the freak fire that burnt down the old warehouse, but I knew that wasn’t true. The articles mentioned some vagrants dying as a result of the fire, but that was as much as they mentioned. There was absolutely no mention of who or what they were, or of us. I suppose all things considered, that was for the best. I was sick of being painted as anarchist villains. I guess there was no story to weave so no propaganda to spin.

In the end it was just a fire that some nameless people died in. However, after a while, that started to unnerve me. All things considered, I shouldn’t have cared that Cyan and his cronies weren’t even named, but then I had a fleeting thought. If it was us, would we get a mention? Or would our deaths too be swept under the carpet like we didn’t exist? Would our loved ones even be told we died? Would our bodies be returned to them, or would we be cremated as John and Jane Doe? The fact I couldn’t even answer that made me sick. Suddenly I felt like there was real weight to Jake’s fear of being wiped from existence. It was too frighteningly easy to become lost and forgotten in this world.

[snow-system-wol]

Fray is just a little too on edge for everyone's good, and the Exarch accidentally sets them into attack dog mode.

(Cross-posting, but this chapter was written very very long ago.)

Ao3

[tw: choking]

Fray really was a creature of protective impulsive violence – their joining with that fragment of S'ria had created someone that melded their best and worst qualities. And now, Fray – that may as well remain their name – was a presence that S'ria could near tangibly feel now that he knew where to look, his heart beating faster as anger began to scorch away fear. That's usually how it felt. It was very rare, really only if someone made a truly wrong move around him, that S'ria was so suddenly gone. Which made it notable here – he remembered the Crystal Exarch praising his progress and then… nothing for several minutes in which something clearly had happened. 

 ----------

Fray had been paranoid and quick to anger ever since this had all begun – S'ria's friends damn near killed by error-prone summoning, the person responsible being the most secretive bastard they'd met all year, and Emet-Selch just… prowling about. Not to mention, most damningly... Eulmore. They don't even want to dislike the Crystal Exarch, but they can't make themself trust him either. It's unfortunate how nice he was, but the other shoe had been dangling for some time, and Fray was going to snap when it finally fell.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to hang behind with the Exarch while the other Scions left to go rest.

S'ria had been listening to him excitedly ramble on about their success with the Lightwarden in Il Mheg, commenting that he'd been terrified at the idea that he could've actually been drowned by the Fuath. S'ria cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"How do you know that part?"

"This", he gestured behind him, "acts as a viewfinder of sorts. While I hardly have the time to check in constantly –" (Lyna politely cleared her throat at that) "– I nonetheless cannot help myself from wanting to be sure of your continued survival."

Fray was already striding towards him by the end of the second sentence. In a matter of moments, they'd pinned the Exarch against the unforgiving crystalline wall, exerting enough force on his throat that he scrambled to keep his feet on the ground.

The claws of his flesh hand sprung out and dug into Fray's arm and it almost made them smile at the display of unadorned self-preservation, involuntary as it was. He may act like he wants for nothing of his own, but his body wants to live, enough to break through the hero worship and draw S'ria's blood. Good.

However, it was that selfsame hero worship that made them press closer with a snarl, ignoring the steel-on-steel sound of Lyna drawing her weapons.

"The room you gave S'ria."

The Exarch swallowed harshly under their hand, replying with a wheeze. "I don't…follow?"

"The room, have you been watching?"

"Wh-". Fray saw him grimace as it clicked. "No! No, I would… never…"

He sounded so sincere, but godsdamnit, they needed to actually look at this man to know if he was lying. Fray leaned in, looking at where his eyes would be if not for the darkness they can now see to be artificial, and pulled at the edges of the enchantment – just enough for them to catch a glimpse.

Well, he wasn't lying, right now, about this at least. (But certainly, the Exarch was a liar.)

Fray released him with a frustrated sigh and addressed him in an awkwardly formal tone. "I apologize. For the accusation." They failed to apologize for nearly strangling him.

And then, of course, S'ria was left with bleeding claw marks on his arm, Lyna fussing over the Exarch while looking towards him with actual rage, and no more than the vaguest idea of what had happened.

"Oh no, whatever I've just done, I'm – "

"No, it's quite alright." The Exarch's voice sounded rough. "If Fray existed in your future, I should've known they existed in your present."

S'ria froze. "I… what?"

"Some accounts, of the calamity and events leading up to…well," the Exarch inelegantly sidestepped the matter of S'ria's potential death, "they mentioned the increasing activity of… some protective spirit bound to your own soul, mayhap?"

Fray became known, in that future? What a bizarre thought. S'ria sighed in relief. However this version of the story came to be, it wasn't one where the Crystal Exarch thought him insane.

"Still, let me apologize to you. I'm sure whatever perceived threat was a misunderstanding."

The Exarch smiled, far too gently in the moment for S'ria's liking. "A misunderstanding, yes, but mayhap not an unwarranted one. Full glad am I to see Fray defend you, even if I was briefly inconvenienced by it."

S'ria felt completely off-balance with this conversation. Even if the Exarch only half knew the situation, it was still… more acknowledgment that was allowed to exist, nevertheless spoken about so plainly.

"The others dont…". S'ria swallowed. "They don't quite know this much."

"Then they shan't know it from me. Nor Lyna?"

The woman in question nodded cautiously. Her hostility towards S'ria had mellowed to something more like confusion with a hint of resentment. He half wanted to suggest she punch him in the face and get it out of her system. They'd both probably feel better about this if she did.

----------

A messy note left on the dresser: Exarch is G'raha Tia

S'ria: wh. What?? What????

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Compromise (Dylan O'Brien x Reader)

Warnings: Rough oral (M receiving); Hair pulling; Oral creampie; Slight choking (gagging); Mentions of somnophilia; Overstimulation

💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙

"Pleeeease, Dyl?" I ask again, slightly moaning out my question this time. I pout my plump lined glossed up lips at him like, and give him the best 'puppy dog eyes' I can manage. I'd been begging him to let me suck his dick for the past hour, and a girl was getting a tad bit insulted! Never in my 28 years had I ever had to beg a man to gimme his attention, especially concerning my mouth on a cock. This man had me doin all types of shit I never thought I'd be down with.

I would find some pride and take no for a answer but lookin up at Dylan's fine ass in only a pair of light grey sweats as he looked down at me, his tongue quickly running across his sexy semi pink lips, I knew I wasn't moving from my kneeled position between his legs. His head tilt back a bit, mouth slightly open, as I rubbed my cute, red, freshly manicured fingertips on his thighs dangerously close to his thick ass dick.

"Come on pretty girl, I already told you. My dick needs some rest, you already sucked me off twice today and fuck baby I'm so sensitive." He tells me, voice a bit apologetic.

'Actually three times' I think, remembering him passed out this morning with a hard dick, whinin in his sleep. His wet dream was clearly good as fuck and getting him there, I just wanted to help a little. By help a little I mean wrap my lips tight around his dick and suck till he whimpered and shot down my throat, 5 big heavy spurts that I refused to waste and swallowed eagerly. It barely took 4 sucks before he creamed my throat, and since he stayed asleep and I barely did any sucking at all, my petty ass definitely wasn't counting it towards my total. Plus it turned me on so much that here I was begging for another dose.

"Dylaaaan," I whine at him. "Why you gotta be like that? I'll go easy on you baby, I promise." I say, lying straight through my teeth. I can see his dick start to rise at my begging; he's openly expressed so many times how he loves hearing me whine and plead for his dick.

He scoffed before replying, "That's a lie and we both know it. Girl, when you wrap your lips around me, you don't stop till you suck out my soul."

I smile at his comment, to ready for him to pound my throat to be embarrassed. He ain't lyin, when I do anything I give it my all so why should blowin him be any different.

I think for a moment and have a revelation of an idea he can't ever seem to pass on. "How about a compromise: I go put on a little make up and let you ruin me?" I propose, my right hand caressing his balls through his sweats.

He shifts a bit on the couch, moaning lowly, his big dick hard as a fuckin rock now. I know I've backed him into a corner. There's probably nothing Dylan loves more than pumping his cock down my throat as he watches my mascara streak down my face mixed in my tears and my lipstick smudged on his dick. He never lasts more than a few minutes and I know he's contemplating it now by the way he's lookin at me without saying a word, lightly biting his bottom lip.

"Fuuuck, you're tryin to kill me?" He eventually groans, tossing his head back and closing his eyes. He's quiet for a few moments. "Go. Now. Hurry up." He finally gives in curtly without pickin his head up or opening his eyes.

I'm up the stairs and in the bathroom mirror with the speed of an Olympic gold medalist, doin a rush job of my best mascara around my (E/C) eyes and adding a deep red lipstick to my plump lips. I run my fingers through my soft ass (H/C) hair before assessing myself in the mirror.

With one last look at my fat perky tits and juicy cocoa ass in my short black cotton body con dress, I'm racing out and back down the stairs to see Dylan still seated with his head thrown back on the couch. His head is to the side while his eyes rake me up and down, sweats at his ankles, chubby dick lookin like a fuckin snack as it twitches. I'm trying not to drool but fuck this man looks so fuckin good relaxed and naked, waitin for me to suck him off.

"Damn that was fast baby girl, you really want your prize huh?" He teases, eyes following me as I again take my place between his legs.

"You know it Daddy, you gonna give me what I want?" I ask, leaning forward till my lips are a few inches from the tip of his pretty ass dick, grippin him in a light but firm hold.

"Yes Princess," he groans. "Just be a good girl and take it easy. Remember how sensitive I am."

I internally roll my eyes but smile sweetly to him and nod. I know he's not gonna last long so I'm gonna get exactly what I want: which is him cumming down my throat so hard till he can't move or speak.

I descend onto his dick slowly, keeping eye contact the way he likes, till I'm half way down. I can hear him moaning already, as I stop and take a breath through my nose before sinking the rest of the way down. My jaw protests a bit at his girth but I couldn't give a fuck, I'm finally getting what I want.

As I start a slow pace up and down, my mouth leaks a little each time my lips reach the base of his dick. His hips start a small humping motion as his moans get loud as fuck, even though we've only just started. He grips my (H/C) locks tightly before moving my head a bit faster on his cock. I gag a bit but he knows me better than to fuckin stop.

"Uhn! Uhn! Damn you s-suckin me so good pretty girl." He whines at me. I can only move my head faster in response. I choke a bit harder on him as my pace increase, tears and mascara beginning to track down my face at the intensity of his dick rammin between my lips. He's fighting to keep his eyes open to watch me but I knows he's way in over his head. Sweat forms on his forehead as his brows furrow in pleasure. His eyes dart from my eyes to his lipstick smudged dick fuckin my mouth.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, ceasing moving me against him and humping my mouth. His head, still resting on the couch, moves from side to side as he tries to accept the pleasure I give him. I rub his thighs soothingly as I take no prisoners and use his dick to carve a special place in my throat just for him. He's starting to tremble a bit and his mouth opens and closes a few time as he tries to speak.

"Babe s-stop, t-too much." He stutters out, eyes rolling back. I almost feel bad for him, but it wasn't like he didn't this to me all the time: pin me down till I scream and squirted. And even then sometimes he would stop. I never get to overstimulate him, and I wasn't gonna miss an opportunity. Mostly I just wanted to feel him bust on my tongue and down my throat but this was an added bonus for sure.

"Baby," he begs pathetically "P-please, please." I feel him trying to pull me off his dick by my hair and that just makes me lean into him and quadruple my efforts on his dick. He wordlessly wails out, hands slamming out to grip the couch tightly. God I wish I could record how fuckin sexy he looks right now overwhelmed with pleasure, basically screaming it to the damn heavens.

I can feel him twitch wildly against my tongue and I know I'm about to get my tasty prize. "Ah, ahhh oh God! Uh, uh, uh, FUCK!!" He explodes verbally and physically and I'm immediately delighted with a strong splash against my tongue and stop moving but continue my hard suction.

He's past trembling to fully out shaking, mouth open making the loudest moans I've ever heard from him in all our years together. His next spurt is so strong it misses my tongue and goes straight down my throat. The third so big that some pools out the corners of my mouth. I gag, mouth and throat constricting a bit but stay locked onto his cock like a vice. He shoots four more heavy bursts before leaking lightly in my mouth for a few seconds.

I stop sucking when no more of his salty cum comes out and pull off his dick with a pop. His body finally falls limp against the couch, his chest rising fast with his heavy breathing. I feel a bit bad as I hear low short wordless groans come from him underneath his breath. He releases his death grip on the couch as I start rubbing soothing circles on his thighs. I can see his dick, which is softening very slowly, twitch every now and again.

"Daddy?" I ask tentatively, worried I went to far. I uncross and recross my pretty brown legs behind me and shuffle on my knees a bit waiting for him to catch his breath.

He waits about 20 seconds, breathing deeply, though it feels like a lifetime before he answers. "You call that goin easy on me?" He asks, opening one eye to peek at me before smiling and opening the other. I internally sigh in relief.

"I thought that was pretty mild, yes." I joke back to him, index finger and thumb wiping the corners of my mouth of drool and cum though I knew I looked a mess. I could feel my lipstick smudged with my spit around my mouth and on my chin, as well as the lines of tears and mascara drying on my cheeks.

His hand reaches to scoop the bit of cum on the corners of my mouth back inside. I accept it and suck on the tip of his index finger as he speaks. "You absofuckinlutely did NOT, but it's good pretty girl. My revenge will be sweet." He has the sexiest evil smirk on his lips as he says the last sentence.

I slowly pull my mouth off his finger and scoot back onto my thick round chocolate ass. Pulling my dress off, I wipe my face with it and toss it to the side. "Well when can you start, Mister?" I purr seductively, spreading my legs and running my fingers over my slit and clit. I'm utterly fuckin drenched from suckin him, my shapely brown thighs plastered in my arousal.

He groans, watching intently as I pleasure myself. "Baby, how's it revenge if you want it?" He asks, leaning forward on the couch to get a closer look. "Fuckin love watching you play in my pretty pussy, yummy pink slit covered by those cute cocoa lips." He says under his breath. "I'm still gonna need some down time, Princess. Plus you're not suppose to ask for my revenge." He groans out to me as he watches me circle my clit before fucking my middle finger into me.

"I think we can come to some kinda agreement," I say, a moan following my sentence. "How about a compromise?"

[starlightsearches]

Truth or Dare

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Here's another part to this!! I'm anticipating that it will be around 4 or 5 parts, and they're all planned out (just not written 😭). Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated 💖

Klitz x femme reader

Warnings: fake dating, language, sexual reference, mentions of suicide

Klitz has spent the last twenty four hours on the verge of throwing up. 

His stomach rolls every time he thinks of you—and sometimes it’s good, when he can pretend there’s distance. He can remember the way your skin felt against his own like the whole thing was just a really good dream, safe with his hand down his pants and your name on his lips without having to say a word to you.

Right now, though, it’s bad. Really bad. Because he said he’d be at your house in twenty minutes and the cushion that had kept him from crashing into a very disappointing reality is slipping through his fingers with every minute.

“Do you own a single shirt that doesn’t look like you stole it from my dad?”

Eli’s standing in his closet, flipping through Klitz’s limited choices, shifting the shirts back and forth like a brand new wardrobe is going to appear if he moves them just right. When it doesn’t work, he sighs. 

“Actually, I lied. I think my dad may have some better options than you.” 

Klitz falls back against his mattress, feeling like a lost cause. He’s wearing the only pair of jeans he owns, and the fabric is stiff and uncomfortable from lack of wear, the waistband digging in against him where he’s tucked in his white undershirt. He wants to crawl out of his skin. 

“I should just tell her I can’t go.”

That steals Eli’s attention from insulting his clothes.

“Uh, no. Absolutely not.” 

He falls into Klitz’s desk chair, twirling it to face the end of Klitz’s twin-size mattress, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees like the world’s least-qualified therapist.

“You have been obsessed with this girl for forever. Okay? Forever. She just about fuckin’ falls into your lap and you’re gonna say no? If you do not go on this date with her I swear to god I will kill you. And then myself.”

Honestly, it’s kind of a tempting offer.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he says, more to himself than to Eli. Really, he knows he can’t do this. He’s going to mess it up somehow—spill coke down your shirt, or say something dumb, cover his eyes or scream too loud. It’s all going to be too close—having you in his car, sitting next to him in the dark, cramped theater seats. What if he gets hard? What if you laugh at him? 

What if you laugh at him and that gets him hard? 

Eli shrugs, oblivious to his friend’s spiral. “You just have to be normal, dude.”

“Okay. Then I’m screwed.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Klitzy,” Eli slaps him on the thigh in an attempt to seem encouraging, “when she says something, just pretend it’s me you’re talking to.”

Klitz sits up on his elbows, looking confused. “Dude, you want me to tell her to shut up?”

“No, stupid,” Eli rolls his eyes, way too confident for somebody almost as clueless as Klitz is, “pretend she’s your mom, or Mr. Salinger, or that old lady feeds her dog cheeseburgers on her porch. Anyone you could talk to without getting a raging hard-on.”

He never wants to hear the words your mom and hard-on in a sentence ever again. “Gross.”

Klitz isn’t going to say it out loud, but the idea does have some merit. It’s not like he’s stupid—he got into Yale, after all—but even thinking about talking to you has always made his brain turn to mush, had him stuttering like an idiot. Maybe the only way to be around you is to pretend he’s not around you at all.

“What if”—he whispers, swallowing hard. He hasn’t even wanted to say this part out loud, because that might make it true— “what if it’s not even real? What if it’s all just a joke?”

That makes Eli shrug, too, a slutty little grin on his face. “Then you might as well get something out of it, am I right?”

Klitz rolls his eyes, and Eli flashes him a falsely harmless look. “What? You know she’s gotta put out if she’s been dating that fuckwad Luke for so long.”

That was the difference between him and Luke. Another difference. “Not gonna happen, dude.” 

“We could roleplay if you want,” Eli crosses his legs, doing a half-assed impression of what you might look like sitting here in his room, “here, pretend I’m her. How do you make your move?”

Klitz sits up, moving to the other end of the bed. “Yeah, I think I’d rather get punched in the dick.”

“Well, the night is young.” Eli shrugs, walking to the closet, picking a shirt at random before throwing it in Klitz’s direction. 

“Let’s go dude. You can do this. Don’t fuck it up.”

Klitz sighs, putting on the shirt and grabbing his car keys. If this goes poorly, he tells himself, he could always make himself a bleach cocktail when he gets home.

Just leaving now.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you see Klitz’s latest message as it joins the rest of the riveting conversation you’d been having. It’s mostly okays and yeps from his side, and the ever-thrilling hey, it’s Klitz. There’s a pit in your stomach as you scroll back through them, lip caught between your teeth. He didn’t sound too thrilled about any of this. Did he even want to go on this date?

More importantly, are you thrilled about this? You still haven’t decided. It couldn’t be your worst date—not after the nightmare-inducing double you went on with Tiff freshman year—but it’s not like you’re going because you wanted to. Or did you? 

 You snap your phone shut with a roll of your eyes, pursing your lips as you stare into your closet. You still don’t know what to wear. 

You grab a chunk of your wardrobe out of your closet, dropping it on a chair beside you and pulling off your ratty sweatshirt. It’s time for the paper-doll treatment, but you can’t help but be disappointed with each outfit you hold in front of you. Too covered. Too slutty. Too casual. Too nice. Amber looks up from where she lays on your bed, legs crossed at the ankles as she flips through some magazine.

“Cute bra,” she says, “think you’ll get lucky tonight?”

You roll your eyes. “Gross, definitely not.”

It would be easier if she wasn’t here. Your dad let her up a few hours ago and she burst into your room without knocking, going off about something Tiff had said or hadn’t said but had meant or whatever. You couldn’t tell her to leave, because then you’d have to acknowledge this date, and admit that you’d have liked to get ready—maybe touch up your makeup a little, do something with your hair. Then she’d think you cared.

And you can’t let her think you care.

Rolling off of your mattress, she joins you in the frame of your mirror, flipping through the pile of clothes. “It doesn’t matter what you wear,” she says, holding up a scoop-neck tank top, “he’s gonna spend the entire time staring at your tits.”

You keep looking through your closet, cheeks growing warmer. “That’s what I was trying to avoid.” 

Amber rolls her eyes, pulling the shirt off its hanger. “Come on, don’t be such a prude. Give him a little show.”

There’s a knock on the door, and your shoulders sag in defeat. No time to argue now.  You rip the top from her hands and throw it on before grabbing a jean jacket from your closet—just in case your parents decide now would be the perfect time to have a fit over what you choose to wear.

“Can’t wait to hear all about it,” Amber calls after you sarcastically. You wish her goodbye with your middle finger. 

Your dad’s standing in the doorway, shaking hands with Klitz as you run down the stairs, and you can’t help but think about that animal birthing video your teacher forced you to watch in 9th grade science. He’s all trembly—unsteady on his feet, gangly like a baby deer trying to take its first steps.

You have to clear the butterflies from your throat before you speak. It’s been forever since you’ve been on a first date. 

“Hey.” 

He looks up to where you stand, and it’s a little cute the way he gapes. The butterflies come back with a vengeance. 

You smile, and he flushes, wrestling his hand from your dad’s grip. “Oh, hey.”

That’s an improvement. He’s speaking more than one word to you now. Sort of.

Your dad watches the whole thing with a smug sort of grin, turning to you with his brows raised, and you know what he must be thinking. Can practically hear him say, thank god it’s this kid taking my daughter out tonight. He wouldn’t be brave enough to touch her with a ten foot pole.

 And he’d be right about that. 

You turn back to Klitz. “Are you ready to go?” 

He nods, and you give your dad a one-armed hug goodbye. “I’ll be back around midnight?”

Your father just shrugs, happy as you’ve ever seen him meeting a boy. “Whatever’s fine; I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the movie. You both have fun—” he turns to Klitz, still grinning from ear to ear. “It was nice to meet you, Tim.” 

He shuts the door behind you with a cheeky wink. God, that’s new. Your dad took one look at Klitz and completely forgot about your curfew. If you had known that, you’d have gone out with him ages ago.

You take his hand without even thinking about it.

No preparation—dead air to skin-on-skin contact in a blink of an eye—pulling him off your front porch and towards his car. 

He’s not sure if he believes it, even now. He was expecting somebody else behind the door—some of your neanderthal friends to beat the shit out of him, maybe. Or maybe you’d let him spend the night on your porch, laughing with Amber as you watched him sob through the peephole.

Instead you’re here, holding his hand. 

“Klitz?”

“Sorry, what?” he blushes, wiping his palm across his jeans before he opens the door for you. Had you said something? He hadn’t heard a word of it; too busy thinking about how soft the skin of your palm is. Thinking about how soft the rest of you must be.

And then he’s quite forcefully picturing Mrs. Strayer and her little Boxer, Biscuit, eating bites off her dollar menu cheeseburgers every afternoon, thinking about how she chomps right into that slobber-covered burger like her dog doesn’t eat its own shit.

“I was just saying” —you continue as he ducks into the driver’s seat, and he hates to admit it, but Eli was right. The dog thing is keeping his blood flowing to all the right places, and out of his crotch. Now he can actually hear when you speak— “that I’m sorry if my dad was weird at all.”

“No, it was fine.” It was not fine. Your dad had been a little too cheery, not even bothering with the classic if you even think about touching my daughter threats. And it’s not like he was going to try anything—god, he’s not delusional—but, you know, he didn’t want to be put in the friend zone so firmly by your dad. 

You laugh, tucking your knees against his dashboard, smiling at him—so fucking pretty without even trying. He’s having trouble keeping his eyes on the road. “Okay, good. If he had scared you off I would have been pissed.”

Now he has to look at you. “What?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, “I mean, you’re really smart, and funny, and—you know—cute. I’ve actually wanted to go out with you for a while now.”

Okay. So someone put you up to this. It’s the only logical explanation. Or maybe you have face blindness and you think you’re talking to someone else. Or Eli cornered you and made up some sob story about how Klitz only had six more weeks to live.   

“Really?”

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes at him. “Why’re you so surprised?”

Because I own a mirror. It’s a self-deprecating thought, but not necessarily an inaccurate one. He knows why girls like you don’t typically talk to him, and it’s not just because he can’t run a whole mile without an inhaler. “I just didn’t think I was, you know, uh, your type.”

You’re studying him like a bug under a microscope, or an ant beneath a magnifying glass. The weight of your gaze burns. “Okay then, what’s my type?”

He resists the urge to say the obvious: Luke. It’s probably a bad idea to bring up your ex-boyfriend in the first ten minutes of his date with you. “Athletic, I guess? Blond?”

You actually make a face, nose scrunching up a little. “Not really, no. Those are just the kinds of guys I hang out with.” 

Sounds like a flimsy excuse, but who is he to correct you when you’ve given him this chance? “Then- then what is your type?”

There’s a long pause, and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Your expression is surprisingly serious. 

“I haven’t really thought about it. Nice, probably? A lot of the guys I know are assholes . . . most of my friends can be pretty big assholes, too . . .” you let your head fall back with a humorless laugh, “I don’t know what that makes me.”

Klitz furrows his brow. “You’re not an asshole.” 

He wants to punch himself in the dick. Good job, Klitz, very romantic. Next you can tell her she doesn’t smell like shit. 

You don’t smell like shit. You smell like a whole garden when it rains, and it’s filling up the car, burying itself into the upholstery. It makes him want to shove his nose against the seat and breathe in until he goes unconscious. 

You laugh off his comment, slapping him lightly on the arm. “You’re sweet, Klitz.” 

He’s got a little patch of buzzing nerves where you touched him, and he shrugs his shoulder, trying to get the feeling back. “No, really,” he doubles down, “I mean it . . . like, you’re the only one who laughs at Mr. Stern’s jokes in Chemistry.” 

Your jaw drops in mock surprise. “Some of those are actually funny. ‘A-meano acid?’ come on.”

He should really stop talking, but his mouth is running off without him. “And you help Tiffany study for her every one of her precalc tests.”

You’ve made it to the theater, but you’re in no rush to get out of the car, watching him with an amused look. “How did you know about that?”

Klitz feels his face go hot. “I’ve just seen you in the library sometimes, that’s all.”

It’s a lot more than that—but he’s not going to tell you how much time he’s spent studying the shape of your lips from a few tables over, chin resting in one hand. He’s closer to your lips now than he’s ever really been—in the privacy of his car, alone in this parking lot. He’d just have to close a few feet of distance and then he’d be kissing you. He turns back to the wheel, face in flames.

“And- I mean, you’ve always been nice to me.” 

There’s a sting of silence, and he glances at your hands, twisting in your lap. Your voice is quiet, and a little solemn. “Thanks.”

And then he sees your hands reaching for the door, erasing the tension from the car with a gust of fresh air. “We better go; the movie’s starting soon.”

He’d be fine to miss the movie if it meant you could spend a little more time alone with you here, but you’re already gone, at his window before he has a chance to even remove his seat belt.

The playful tone is back in your voice as he climbs from the driver’s seat.

“Are you scared?”

“No,” he lies, “are you?”

You just roll your eyes at him, reaching for his hand again, twining your fingers in between his.

Against his better judgment, he’s starting to wonder if this might be real.

[kiindr]

Hey I wanted to just kinda share my success story here because I think it's important for people to hear

Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, self harm, eating disorder, being young, mild sexual harassment, anti-depressants, anxiety meds, and sedatives, toxic relationships ('romantic' but it was petty and short, so I'd say mostly friendships), and talking about therapy and mental hospitals.

- Just turned 15 recently (Present)

*FIRST YEAR*

- Was 11, in 6th grade, when covid hit hard

- Sister has mild disability in her legs so my family was extremely extremely cautious to not catch the 19 because viruses trigger it

- At this time my thoughts were as follows:

"Emotions make me weak"

"Crying is a sign that I'm not strong and confident"

"If I can just get rid of these god damn emotions I can manipulate and gaslight my way through life and be successful"

- I was so desperate for attention I would seek out negative attention. And not sexual negative attention or doing weird stuff... I mean I would sit in gaming chat rooms and tell people to insult me for hours.

- I didn't know crap about mental health at the time

*SECOND YEAR*

7th grade. 13. My lowest. God, so fucking low.

- Still desperately sought out negative attention. I was the weird girl and the pick-me girl in one. I was convinced that if I just brushed off every insult and wrongdoing to me, I'd be "chill" and "fun"

- Hang out with people that used me as entertainment when they were bored, yelling at me and degrading me and insulting me and the worst part is that I LIKED it because I was just so damn lonely

- Started dating some boy. He was 12 I was 13. We never really talked to each other. We were making out before he ever said he wanted to be my boyfriend.

- Soon he was pushy, and disgusting. He would dry hump me, rut against me, spit into my mouth, squeeze my throat...

- And I never said no. Because I was so scared of losing what I had convinced myself was someone who actually loved me.

- But when I tried to 'lightheartedly' protest, or struggle or try to get out of his grip, he would grab me and pin me down and no matter how much I tried to escape he would just force me not to move and he didn't ever actually penetrate me but dear lord that horny ass 12 year old boy had boners more often than not. I didn't tell anyone bc I was scared that they'd be mad that I didn't tell them sooner.

- Also went through a huge identity crisis. It wasn't because I was trans, it was because I wasn't allowing myself to be me so I didn't feel like ME and so I turned to the easy thing. At one point I was "Demiaro pan genderfluid trigender"... I'm just a cis lesbian though.

- My thoughts at this time are as follows:

"Oh."

"I don't care."

"Eh"

"It is what it is"

"I want to sleep"

"I wish I was sleeping right now"

"I can't be here, I have to go"

*SECOND PART OF SECOND YEAR, WORST TIME OF MY LIFE*

- I hate my body. I dont eat all day long. I don't eat lunch at school and told my friends I prefer to eat at home and at home told them the opposite.

- I can't take it one day and I cut myself with a dull old xacto knife.

-It's addictive. I've been punching myself for ages, but cutting is completely different. It made me feel like everything would be okay... for a few seconds... and then I'd look down and all there would be is blood and a rusty blade and a mark that will never be erased.

- I begin to feel suicidal. I think about how much easier it would be to just not exist. I sleep 24/7 so I dont have to be conscious

- I begin to throw up all my food to try to be skinnier

- I progress, I'm fantasizing about killing myself and I'm writing out 3rd person blurbs of me doing it. I drew it too. It was all that consumed my thoughts. It wasn't long until I couldnt trust myself at all to be alone for a minute.

- Living is just so hard. I couldn't describe it then, and I can't describe it now. There are simply no words that will begin to encompass the sheer delusional, wrenching, miserable agony of what that low low feels like. I am positively amazed at 13 year old me for every day she woke up and lived.

- Im missing 1-2 days of school every week. My grades drop, hard

- We try a new anxiety med with my therapist that is known to potentially cause suicidal thoughts. I see it as my chance

- In a month my parents are checking in with me, making sure I don't feel suicidal

- I kindly inform them that I, in fact, am. Very.

- I sleep in their bed at night. I silently get in and we turn the lights out and we all silently cry ourselves to sleep every night.

- I come foward about everything

- We switch meds, I'm getting treated for not OCD but now depression and the likes

- The biggest thing in my life was recovering. Every day I worked SO fucking hard to recover. Every time I opened my eyes in the morning, or put on clean clothes or went to school or took a shower or said hello to someone or finished my homework or ate something was a MASSIVE battle. It was so tiring. I was SO tired.

*THIRD YEAR*

- Over the summer, I'm able to continue to work on myself without worrying about school, it helps a ton.

-Come the school year I'm 6 months free of self harm, no longer suicidal, and eating healthy and balanced meals. I'm into fitness, as running became my coping mechanism for self harm urges (Because running is horrible 💀). I'm going to school almost all days and I'm dropping friends that were bad for me and open myself to new friends.

- It's still hard, I still struggle with my OCD and severe social anxiety, but the depression is so so much better.

- My birthday comes. I'm turning 14. It was so amazing... I was excited for it.

I was EXCITED FOR IT.

I CARED.

I was excited to see my family and I was excited to have a yummy dinner and I was excited to open Presents! I didn't feel like a burden or like gifts for me was a waste of money and my party a waste of time.

This happens at Christmas too. It's so hopeful for me.

- I dunk back into depression towards the end of the school year but resurface a few weeks into summer even better

- We take month long vacation where me and my lil sis have full access to the city and everything while my parents work in our camper. This was so impactful on my social anxiety. I was empowered by my independence.

*NOW*

- I've learned to set boundaries

- I have a healthy friend group with wonderful communication

- I feel HAPPY at least once every day (!) and I let myself cry and it feels so good to let it out and I let myself be sad or angry or dissapointed

- Im not afraid to ask for what I need (Okay well I'm afraid but I've learned to cope with that fear and do it anyway). People like me BETTER when I just ASK for water when I'm thirsty, or I just ask if I'm allowed to use their TV, or I just ask for some milk because Asian food is too powerful for me (😔).

- I have learned how to NOT give advice and just listen. I can hear someone's problems and not want to fix them.

- I have learned what I can and cannot control

So, in summary, I was just in the PITS and I am in awe of myself for my recovery but I am BETTER now. I feel GOOD.

The biggest piece of advice I have to anyone struggling with suicidal thoughts is to think about how PROUD future you will be of you for every day you hold on. Future you will try to give you hugs and comfort and they cant... not until you reach them. Future you is watching from above and sees your path to recovery but in the thick of it you can't see it. Future you is counting on you. Don't let them down. Just, hold on. They deserve a chance right?

(I'm sure this is littered with typos so I'm sorry about that, I don't have the energy to check right now, it's kinda late and I have to get up early)

♡

i love this!

i am so proud of you!

<3