#and i know they were havin some Troubles but it seems like they made up

[fag4dykestobin]

girlies i must confess something. i know we all think mike is bi but i really can't see it. i've been trying but i just don't think he likes boys

[novemberheart]

{overview} you make some friends- and some not friends

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, Simon being a grump, cursing, short chapter, mostly some “world-building”, Fem reader, Simon heavy chapter

Chapter 8 <- Chapter 9 -> Chapter 10

Simon woke you up the next morning, with a rough series of pats on your back. You groaned curling around yourself, the smell of leather slowly filling up your senses.

“This day isn't going to fuck itself,” Simon grumbled. Your eyes opened groggily, sending him a glare.

“What does that even mean?” you croaked, forcing yourself to sit up. Simon bit back a smile at the sight of your bedhead. He was able to snap a picture as you stared off into space. He sent it to Johnny, who quickly made it his lock screen.

“Up, pup,” he commanded, getting up himself. He moved with much more ease, only wincing as he took a few steps forward. “Got a busy day,” he added. By the time his words settled in your ears, he had already made his way into his bedroom.

“Busy day?” you questioned to yourself as you brushed your teeth. “Where are we going?” you asked. Simon was able to shower, shave, and get dressed by the time you finished brushing your teeth and picking out an outfit.

“Something the omega committee planned. Breakfast in the park or some shite like that. Captain wants you to go.” he explained.

“I don't want to.” you began to whine.

“Ah, ah, ah don't start pulling that shite with me, it's not gonna work. Put your stompers on, and let's go.” he growled. You straightened up, a little worried at his tone. Why did he sound so angry? Regardless, you quickly did as you were told, grabbing your shoes out of the closet and following wordlessly behind him.

You wanted to ask him more about this ‘breakfast in the park’ thing but you refrained. Nervousness began to eat at you, as it would for most people when you were being thrown into a group of people you have never met. The omegas there have probably already formed cliques. Not that you weren't used to being the new person. You didn't quite feel as though you could tell the alpha next to you about it.

At least it was a pretty sunny day out.

The walk wasn't very far, and it wasn't exactly a park. It was near where Simon took you for a walk. There was a bit of a crowd already, sitting down on their own blankets. Simon pulled out a blanket that was tucked under his arm. “Look at me,” he instructed. “No reason for you to be nervous, yeah? They're lucky to have you, I think, I mean I don't really know you that well.” he huffed, causing you to giggle. “See the group behind me?” he asked. You peeked around him.

“Pink blanket?” you hummed. He hummed back.

“You steer clear of ‘em. They get into trouble.” he told, and you nodded your head in understanding. “I'll be right over there havin’ a cig, you go be a good girl and save me a scone, yeah?” he patted you with the blanket. You took it from him, watching as he headed past you, without a glance over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but felt much better about the situation. You guess Simon was much more tough love than you were used to. You stood for a moment surveying the area. People were cliqued up all right. You decided just to head in the opposite direction of the pink blanket gang.

You grabbed a plate off of one of the tables and decided on a cinnamon roll and a scone for Simon. You also grabbed a hot chocolate. You pulled off to the side eyeing the array of people. A particular group caught your eye. Two women and a man. They seemed approachable like they wouldn't shoot you down if you went up to them. Only one way to find out. You followed the natural path set up by blankets.

They stopped talking as you stood before them. “Hi.” You smiled, trying not to sound too shy. You introduced yourself in one breath waiting for them to make the next move.

“Hi, I'm Anais.” the one in the middle introduced herself first. She was sweet-looking, her glasses taking up most of her face and magnifying her eyes in an endearing way.

“I’m Jane.” the one to your right looked. She looked just as uncomfortable as you, her obsidian eyes darting around.

“Jonah.” the last one greeted. “You're welcome to join us.” he offered, which you quickly took them up on.

“The worst part is over.” Anais smiled, adjusting herself so she was sitting on her knees. “When did you get here?”

“Four days ago,” you replied.

“I got here six days ago,” Jane spoke up. Her voice was soft and brittle. You were tempted to give her a hug.

“Ah, so you know what it's like.” you smiled. “How long have you two been here?” you asked, spooning a piece of cinnamon roll into your mouth.

“Seven months,” Jonah answered.

“A little under three months for me,” Anais said.

“Nice. Do you like it here?” you questioned. You were hoping to get the dirt on people.

“Not really. You're lucky you're with big guy over there.” Anais said through bites of her toast. “Do you really have your own flat?” she questioned. Looks like you were going to be the one giving out dirt.

“Yeah it's pretty close to that. Where do you live?”

“In the barracks,” Anais said. “It's a room filled with bunk beds.”

“That sounds terrible.” you winced. “Do you get any privacy?”

“Not really. Unless it's during my heat.” she shrugged. “That's usually what happens when you're just bonded to an alpha, not a whole pack,” she explained. “I hope to get my pack one day. You're lucky you didn't have to work for yours.” she sighed. Your brows twitched.

“Anais,” Jonah whispered harshly. She just shrugged. How did she know anything about you and your pack? There was obviously something you weren't aware of.

“It's alright.” you soothed, giving Jonah a smile. “She’s technically right.” you sighed.

“I didn't mean it in a bad way.” Anais continued. “Just that you're lucky,” she added. You have been hearing that a lot lately.

“I know.” you agreed. You figured it was better to play along. Plus you seem to be lucky. “Did you get assigned here or?” you asked, turning over to Jane.

“Assigned.”

“Me too.” you replied.

“I know,” she whispered, causing you to furrow your brows again.

“Does everybody know?” you finally asked.

“You have been a hot topic,” Jonah admitted. You looked over your shoulder and suddenly became aware of the glances and peeks your way. Has everyone been staring at you this whole time? “Don't stress about it,” Jonah added.

“Yeah, you're literally a celebrity,” Anais added.

“I don't know if I want to be a celebrity.” you said finally.

“I’ll trade with you. I'm not really into guys, but I’d do it for fame.” Jonah chuckled, causing you all to laugh.

“I'll let you know after I finish my first week.” you snickered. An hour went by fairly fast. The group next to you joined into the conversation and soon you were a nice group of seven. Priya- she was the one you bonded to quickly. You started talking because she also was with a task force, her choice, on the sixth floor of your building.

She smelled like apples and lavender. Your mom smelled like lavender.

“How’d you do?” Simon asked. He stood up from the bench, eyeing you up and down. You certainly smelled happy. Your scent turned warm when you were happy. Your normal scent was freshly cut peaches paired with a chilled vanilla ice cream. Yet when you were happy it became a peach crumble straight out of the oven. He chewed the inside of his cheek, moving so he was upwind.

Before you had time to respond something caught his attention. “Come on, pup.” he urged. His hand rested on the back of your neck guiding you away from the scene. You had the sense of mind to not question him, which he was grateful for.

“Lieutenant Ghost.” A voice called from behind the two of you. He growled, stopping, but keeping a firm grip on you as he began to turn.

“Lieutenant Hale.” Simon mustered.

“So this must be the little lady I've been hearin’ so much about.” He was Southern, a charming drawl in his voice.

“She would be the one.” Simon affirmed. His hand reached down, grabbing your hip pulling you towards his side.

“Haven’t smelt something so sweet in a long time. You remind me of home.” Lieutenant Hale smiled at you. You remained straight-face, your omega beginning to feed off of the signals Simon was sending out. “How have you been, L.T.? Heard you took a nasty tumble.” Hale clicked his tongue.

“Fine.” Simon replied bluntly.

“Well, I would hope so. Medicine like that could heal any man.” Hale smirked, his eyes still locked on you.

“Got that right,” Simon said back. The men were keeping pleasantries- probably for your sake. Simon gave your hip a squeeze. “See you around, Hale.” The hand on the back of your neck returned, turning you away from the scene.

“I look forward to it. Both of you,” he added, tipping his head towards you. You remained silent. When you got far enough away you looked back over your shoulder. Two of the girls from the pink blanket rushed over to him, nuzzling their way under his arms.

His eyes were still on you.

“You did good, pup.” Simon complimented once you got away from the crowd.

“Thank you.”

It was two hours past your normal bedtime. The first two nights here you were so exhausted you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. The third night you fell asleep on the couch with everyone.

It felt like the first night here.

You can still remember the last night you slept alone. It was the night before your mom left. The night she left you remember her sneaking her way into your bedroom, holding you as tight as she could. You could still feel her breath on your cheek as she breathed you in. You didn't question it at the time.

You wish you had.

That day your grandparents came down to help out and you slept in the guestroom with them- terrified of being left again. Then you got step-siblings, then roommates at the omega holding house.

You scrunched your eyes tightly.

Your room was too dark. Too quiet. Too cold. It had yet to be drenched in your scent, the room still smelling like paint and carpet cleaner. You wondered if Johnny or Kyle would mind you crashing their room. You're sure they wouldn't, but you didn't want to set yourself up for rejection. You could always crash on the couch with Simon. You didn't want him to think you were too needy.

You suddenly heard movement outside your door. You stilled, pulling the covers further up your body. Your door opened very hesitantly. John carefully poked his head in. You closed your eyes as much as you could to make it look realistic. He trained his eyes on your form for a moment before he quietly shut the door. The realization suddenly dawned on you.

He was checking on you.

You weren't exactly sure why he was checking on you. To see if you were still awake? To see if you were comfortable? Or maybe to make sure you hadn’t escaped.

Either way, it meant one thing:

You weren't alone.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 10 will be in two days! See you then!

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated🧡

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳.

prairing: jake "hangman" seresin x f!reader

summary: you're a bartender at the hard deck who a couple of douchebags have decided to torment. neither you nor jake seresin will stand for it.

warnings: descriptions of violence against women, blood.

word count: 2.2k

author's notes: this fic was very much inspired by the above screenshot of glen powell from ride along and my lovelies in the creator coven. bloodied (fictional) men do thing to my loins, i will not apologize.

when i was younger, i always wanted to get into a bar fight while "ballroom blitz" blasts over the jukebox. but i'll let jake handle it instead.

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

“Get your hands off of me, you shit waffle!”

The large dude manhandling you as you made your war through the packed crowd at The Hard Deck merely looked back at his friends and laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

You were working your regular Friday night shift at the bar frequented by the men and women of the local Navy base, as well as any local who had a penchant for hearing their stories, or just wanting to have a good time with friends. Unfortunately that meant that sometimes more rowdy and less than savoury characters wound up within the four walls of the bar as well. What did you do when you were one of the few decent bars in town?

Penny had some pretty fair, but tough and firm rules regarding the harassment of her employees, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t happen from time to time. You had a reputation for being a little spitfire behind the bar, but hadn’t instilled the fear of God into the crowd that frequented the bar yet.

They just needed to give you time.

That night you were in charge of bussing drinks back and forth between some of the tables at the back of the bar. You would have much preferred to be behind the bar, or working the front where the likes of Jake Seresin and Natasha Trace hung out. Since the aviators were often regulars, who tipped well and treated The Hard Deck as if it were home, they were much more pleasant to deal with, and if you were forced to admit it, quite easy on the eyes.

You knew the moment you went to take the drink order from one of the tables at the back that you weren’t going to have a great time with them. They were boisterous, rude, and kept making disparaging comments about all of the women within eyesight. Penny wasn’t working that night, but it was nothing that you couldn’t handle. You had a line, and if they crossed it, you’d kick them out.

“Those guys aren’t giving you too much trouble, are they?”

You lifted your head from pouring beers to see Jake standing on the other side of the bar. He leaned his forearms against the hardwood, raising his eyebrows before cocking his head toward the back. You followed his gaze and sighed.

“Not yet,” you replied, before turning to look back at Jake. “They seem like all talk and no bite. They’ll get loud, get bored when they realize that no one is paying them any mind, then head out.”

Jake huffed before standing upright and patting the countertop of the bar. “All right. But if they start raisin’ hell you know where to find us, sweetheart.”

You were glad he turned around to return to his game of darts with Bradley Bradshaw because you knew for a fact that your blush covered not only your cheeks but your chest.

It was when you brought the group of three their second round that the biggest of them grabbed your ass when you turned around.

“Oh, we’ve got a live one!” Biggest Dude laughed to his friends after you called him a shit waffle. “C’mon little lady, just havin’ a bit of fun.”

“No dice,” you said, pressing your palms on the table and leaning over it. “If you’re gonna drink here there are rules. Hands off anyone who doesn’t want your hands on them. We’ve kicked people outta here for less.”

“You’re gonna kick us out?” the man with the backwards ballcap asked incredulously. He snorted. “You and your staff don’t look like you could handle us.”

“We have our ways,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

It was then that Biggest Dude reached over and groped at one of your breasts. You were admittedly, showing some cleavage that night, but that still didn’t give him the right. Ballcap laughed, and the other man, Patchy Beard, howled like a fucking animal. It was, quite frankly, all very disgusting, and the kind of shenanigans you expected from the bullies in some 80’s movie, and not actual real life grown men.

“`the fuck off me!” you shouted, hitting Biggest Dude in the face with the tray you had been carrying. It certainly wasn’t enough to inflict any sort of damage, but definitely enough to piss someone off.

“Hey!” Biggest Dude yelled, the people around you beginning to quiet and watch what was transpiring. He stood quickly, moving away from the table toward you.

“What?” you asked, a smirk playing upon your lips. “You can touch me but I can’t touch you? Hardly seems fair.”

You were nothing if not a provoking little shit, and were well aware that you were likely to end the night with a black eye before the police were inevitably called.

“Different between good touch and bad touch, little lady,” Biggest Dude said, grabbing at your wrist. “Maybe I oughta teach you?”

“Ew,” you said, voice dripping with disgust.

“Fuckin’ bitch.”

He slapped you. Not hard, but hard enough to shock you and have you turn your head to the side, and to have the people around gasping. It took you a moment to register what had happened, and when you did you could hear little else but the jukebox on the other side of the bar, and a series of rapid footfalls headed in your direction.

Through the haze of adrenaline you spotted Jake, who pushed his way through the last bit of the crowd who hadn’t already parted for him. It happened more quickly than Biggest Dude slapping you. Jake grabbed his shoulder and shoved him against the wall, nostrils flaring.

“Your mama must’ve not raised you right if you’re gonna put your hands on a lady like that,” Jake sneered. “Get the fuck out.”

“Who’s gonna make me?” Biggest Dude asked, looking at his friends and laughing a little.

“You’re lookin’ at him.”

“Jake -” you began, gingerly touching your face.

“I got it, sweetheart,” he said, and the way that “sweetheart” drifted past his lips sounded a lot different than it had moments before at the bar.

“I just - no fighting in the bar,” you said. “Penny’ll have you paying everyone’s tabs for the next ten years.”

“Outside?” Patchy Beard suggested, standing up from his chair.

“Yeah, outside is good,” Jake agreed, nodding his head, giving Biggest Dude a shove toward the back exit.

“Jake,” you began, walking up to him and grabbing his arm, a bold move for you. “You do not have to fight this loser to … defend my honour or some shit. C’mon.”

Jake looked at you, fury blazing in his eyes, and you realized there was no way in talking him down from his desire to kick Biggest Dude’s ass.

“It’s nothing,” he assured you.

---

Biggest Dude and Jake were already fighting by the time you got out to the parking lot, having gone to grab Bradey, Natasha, and Javy. A small crowd had assembled around them, including Ballcap and Patchy Beard.

“Oh man,” Bradley said, exasperated. “He’s gonna get his ass busted down to Private if Mav finds out.”

The four of you quickly made your way toward the fight, and you were the first to reach the crowd, just in time to see Biggest Dude punch Jake right in the stomach.

“Hey!” you hollered, pushing through the small crowd of people and walking right up to Jake and Biggest Dude. “Enough! You’re both being idiots!”

“Fuck off, little lady,” Biggest Dude snarled, turning his attention toward you.

He was distracted long enough for Jake to get a couple of punches in, and you moved back lest you get more involved than you wanted to. The people around you hooted and hollered, while Bradley and Javy tried to pull Jake away.

“You lay a hand on her again and I will break your fuckin’ face,” Jake spat, pure vitriol oozing from his lips.

It was violent, but it was also incredibly hot. It probably shouldn’t have been.

Biggest Dude’s friends got the memo that they should probably get involved, each of them moving toward either Bradley or Javy to distract them, which meant Jake was free to land some more punches if he so chose.

“Jake. C’mon,” you said once more, moving to stand in front of him. He was sweating, breathing hard, and had murder in his eyes and fists at the ready. You laid your hands against his heaving chest, shirt damp with perspiration. “You don’t need to do this. I’m not some fair maiden who needs a white knight. These guys are losers anyway. Just … let’s all go back into the bar. The rest of your drinks are on me tonight.”

For the briefest moment Jake met your eyes, the anger melting away. You smiled warmly at him in an attempt to get him to come down from his rage. It only lasted a moment though before Jake shouted and punished you aside.

You stumbled to the side just as Biggest Dude had lurched forward to the two of you. He grabbed at the collar of Jake’s t-shirt, and though Jake was at the ready, Biggest Dude landed a couple of punches to Jake’s face. You could hear the crunch of bone and thought you might be ill.

Biggest Dude had Jake pinned to the hood of someone’s car, fist pulled back to lay another punch into him. Bradley, who had laid Patchy Beard out on the ground, grabbed Biggest Dude’s arm and pulled him back, away from Jake.

“Enough!” he hollered.

You weren’t paying attention to Bradley, or what else was going on around you - your attention was focused purely on Jake. Rushing over to him, he was still laid out on the hood of the car, panting hard and coughing, attempting to get his bearings after what had just transpired.

“Jake,” you whispered, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder and assessing his injuries. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

“I lost,” Jake muttered, looking up at the stars that filled the night sky.

“No, you didn’t,” you assured him, gingerly helping him to stand upright. “That piece of shit fought dirty. By all rights, you won.”

Bradley was a commanding force, and while you couldn’t make out what he was saying, the fight seemed to be over. Your attention was focused on Jake, and only Jake.

“C’mon. Let’s get you fixed up.”

---

It was business as usual back in The Hard Deck. Bradley and Javy had sent the Terrible Threesome packing to lick their wounds and the crowd had dispersed. The other bartenders and staff were taking care of the bar while you sat with Jake in the storage room, where the first aid kit was. Natasha had poked her head in to give you both an update on what happened outside and to let you know things had mostly returned back to normal inside.

“Thanks, Trace,” Jake had said, as Natasha had closed the door and left.

You and Jake were sitting facing one another in two folding chairs, the first aid kit sitting open on a case of beer. Tending gently to the cuts and scrapes on Jake’s knuckles, you pursed your lips as you ruminated over what to say.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” you murmured. “We could’ve just kicked the three of them out.”

“Something tells me they wouldn’t have gone without a fight then either,” Jake said with a large sniff. His nose and mouth were still bloody, and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to tend to either before you got there.

You lifted your gaze from his knuckles to his face. “Is it broken?” you asked.

“Nah,” Jake replied, shaking his head. “Just a bone bruise. Fuckin’ hurts though.” Nodding, you turned your attention back to Jake’s knuckles, holding his hand gently. “Hey.” You glanced up again to find concern in his green eyes. “He socked you too. How’re you?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, swallowing a little harder than you probably would have if anyone else other than Jake Seresin was looking at you like that. Jake pulled his hand from yours, reaching out and touching your face gently. You hissed a little, and bit at your bottom lip. “Okay, maybe a little less good than fine.”

“He was a big dude,” Jake said, smiling fondly at you. You hadn’t realized you had tilted your head toward his touch until Jake’s thumb was sweeping gently over your cheek. “You held your own. You’re a helluva girl.”

“You’re gonna make me blush, Seresin,” you said, laughing nervously. “Thank you, by the way. For standing up for me. You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but I wanted to, darlin’,” he said, scooting a little closer to you, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor.

Oh shit.

“Jake,” you murmured as he leaned in, lips sweeping gently over yours.

You should’ve cared that he was hurt, you should’ve cared that his mouth was still bloody, but you didn’t. A ragged sigh escaped you and you kissed him a little harder.

Jake hissed.

“Oh!” you said, reaching up to cover your mouth as Jake pulled away. “Sorry, sorry!”

“S’okay,” Jake said, smiling and cautiously touching his lips. “Just … maybe let’s not kiss again until my lip isn’t so split?”

You smiled, nodding your head. “Yeah, okay. I think I can do that.” You reached out for his hand again, not having finished cleaning up his knuckles. “Holding hands is nice too.”

Jake laughed. “Yeah. Holding hands is nice.”

/end.

[bangtanintotheroom]

Fic Announcement: Fill the Void (M)

I don't wanna decide things for myself, on my own

Finally, for the first time, I'm alone

You call me, havin' good times with a bad boy

Seems I've got a choice to make

Be my voice and I choose you to fill the void

• Pairing: Professional Dom!Hyunjin x Client!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Sex Worker!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: ?

• Summary: He’s always there to help you forget your troubles, even if it’s just for a few hours.

• Warnings/themes (subject to change for final draft): sex work, swearing, drinking, discussion of safe words and consent, giving up control, dom!Hyunjin, sub!Y/N, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, praise, use of sex toys, dirty talk, protected sex, spanking, aftercare

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Fill the Void - The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: It's funny how months ago I said I couldn't see myself writing for Hyunjin and now look at me 🥲🥟 Just a quick little idea I came up with in the last few days and I've been trucking through writing it a stark contrast to my other fics as of late 🫣! It's also been a hot minute since I've written anything rough, so forgive me if it's a bit rusty.

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae2 @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

If you'd like to get tagged for the final draft, let me know! YOU MUST BE OVER 18 AND HAVE IT VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG!

Moodboard and teaser below the cut!

“Y/N?”

A familiar voice brought you to attention, straightening up in your seat at the tall and lean figure now standing in front of you as your stomach flipped in on itself.

“Hyunjin.”

The man smiled down at you, the red lights illuminating and shadowing the right places on his handsome face.

“Welcome back.”

Now you returned the expression, cheeks heating up despite your best efforts. He always seemed to have this effect on you.

“It’s good to be back.”

Hyunjin’s magnetic smile only widened, holding a hand out towards you. Without exchanging any more words, you took it, marveling at the warmth and delicacy of it. The opposite of what it could really do behind closed doors.

He helped you up and led you out of the waiting room and back into the hall. You saw the other patrons staring at the two of you out of the corners of your eyes, expressions ranging from encouragement to curiosity. Probably wondering what the enticing worker and the client in her wrinkled pantsuit were going to get up to.

Nothing was said as you and him walked past closed doors, the occasional sounds soaking through them. A moan. A groan or two. Some laughter. A once in a while scream of pleasure. Or pain.

The first couple of visits, you’d jump and blink owlishly at the rooms, your gaping broken by the gentle tug Hyunjin would give your hand. You were used to these noises by now; it was nothing but background music to you.

Finally, a familiar door ended up in your vision. The dark wood with the red chain wrapped around the handle had your stomach knotting in titillation. Just like always.

Hyunjin opened it and motioned you to enter first, waiting until you stepped halfway in to shut it behind him.

His designated room fit the aesthetic of the establishment, yet it had its own style that catered to its owner. Black made up most of the decor, with the occasional blocks of white and garnished by gold. With the large bed in the middle, decorated with multiple throw pillows, any passerby would assume this was a normal person’s bedroom.

But the oddly-shaped chair looming in the corner hinted at what occurred in here other than sleeping and relaxing.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[odocoiileus]

bo Sinclair x gn! reader blurb??👀

pairings: bo sinclair x gn! reader

warnings: illusions to murder + blood/gore, illusions to nsfw actions but none explicitly described, light angst, Bo and reader aren't in the healthiest of relationships, cursing

a/n: here you go anon!! sorry for such a delay in reqs, been very busy lately. this ended up a little longer than I expected. also, I made an AO3 account under the same username, feel free to follow me on there! I will be posting stuff soon

it's unbearably hot today – though that's commonplace for Louisiana. the air is sticky and damp, foreshadowing an incoming storm. you're not entirely sure when the storm will roll by, but you're thinking it won't be today. the sun shines brightly, hot as a flame. your clothes feel as though they're glued to you from how much you're sweating. from the spot where your perched, on the rickety old house's porch steps, you can see the dancing forms of heat waves. it warps your view of the rest of the town.

you let yourself fall back, splaying yourself across the porch. you close your eyes, lifting a hand to wipe some sweat from your forehead. it does little to help. you wish the storm would hurry and come, help lessen the heat. you can see it now – dancing in the cool rain. a blessing.

in the distance, you can hear the loud and familiar rumbling of Bo's shitty truck. there's a pop occasionally, the sound of the engine becoming louder, signaling that he was nearing the house. you let out a heavy sigh. maybe if I lay here like this, he'll think I'm dead, you think. at this point, you feel as though that would be the best thing to ever happen.

Bo had been in an exceptionally sour mood the last few days, you were growing sick of it. at first, you had simply thought it was because of a few wanderers that had entered the town of Ambrose. news flash – it wasn't. you'd done everything to try and cheer the sour man up; a piece of your body at one point. he was ungrateful.

even Vincent and Lester hadn't been in such sour moods. Vincent was always lurking in the basement, sculpting away and Lester — well, he was everywhere and nowhere at once. still, they'd at least treated you with kindness. now you know why neither of them got along with Bo very much, especially Vincent. he's a dick.

lost in your thoughts, you only open your eyes once you feel a boot nudging your rib. you let out a wince. did he not have a gentle bone in his body? you chew at the inside of your cheek.

"the hell you doin', layin' on the porch? y'look dead." Bo's voice rings out, thick southern accent drawing you in. you can vividly remember why you fell for him the first place. he was a southern sweetheart, once. your gaze travels from his dirty, dusty boots, traveling up his pants – landing on his face. his brows are furrowed in what seems confusion or frustration (you can't really tell).

"thinking." you answer flatly. your eyes drift from the Sinclair to the bright sky, hand raised to wipe more sweat away. Bo fails to provide any shade as he looms over you. "what exactly could you be thinkin' 'bout?" he asks, gruff. how does one explain that they're thinking about how much they despise the person they're dating? ..are you two even dating? it's a blurred line. you squint your eyes at the southern charm standing above you. you change the subject.

"any more tourists?" you ask, voice crackling with thirst and void of any actual curiosity. Bo narrows his eyes at you, placing his hands on his hips. he briefly lifts his head, looking off into the distance before he shakes his head. "no, and thank God for that. I don't need no more damn trouble. I'm already worn out havin' ta' deal with Vincent and Lester. you, too." he grumble, gaze falling back on you. you can't tell if he means it in a lighthearted way.

you roll onto your side, face twisting into at the feeling of sweat making your shirt stick to your back. you push yourself up. "Vincent don't cause any trouble, he stays to himself." you protest. Lester on the other hand, well, his hyperactivity can get a little tiresome. he's still kind though, means well..as someone that leads people to their death could be. Bo just rolls his eyes, waving his hand dismissively.

"come on, now. inside." he says, you almost feel like a dog being beckoned by its owner. perhaps you are one, with the way you stand up, dusting yourself off. with the way you follow him into the rickety house that you hate so much yet love.

god, you really despise him.

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: The crossover continues! Last chapter of the year I think, so happy holidays and you'll hear from me soon! P.S. Hermione Granger isn’t the perfect, well-behaved goody-two-shoes everyone makes her out to be and I will die on that hill!

Leave a like and comment when you reach the end :)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Twelve ~ A Revelation

Mail came on Monday morning, owls flying overhead dropping parcels and letters on people’s laps. Mortis stood out, as always, with his vast wingspan and long neck. Most of Slytherin House were getting used to his presence, some barely even flinched when a woosh of air knocked passed their heads, but thankfully there were still a few who startled at the sight enough to screech. It certainly boosted his ego.

(Y/N) was sat adjusting the clips in her hair when he landed on the table, dropping a small package on her plate of eggs and toast, then hunching over the table to stare menacingly at a third year nearby with a plate full of bacon and bread. She smirked as the boy whimpered at the eye-contact, holding out his sandwich with a shakey hand and trying not to scream when the vulture snatched it from his grasp.

“He’s not havin’ much,” Saoirse commented, eating a poptart from the pack her parents had sent.

Holding up the parcel, (Y/N) noticed some red smudges on the package and nodded. “I can see why.” She said, taking a knife from the table to cut the string holding the letter onto the box, showing Saoirse the stained brown paper. “He already ate.”

As usual, the envelope was charcoal with shining black wax displaying the Addams crest. With the table knife firmly in her grasp, (Y/N) sliced open the top with ease, taking out the pages to read.

She’d sent her letter on the Saturday afternoon, eager to re-tell the events of the Quidditch match, knowing her family would be interested. She hadn’t expected a reply so soon, but was glad for it all the same. This time, (Y/N) recognised her mother’s neat, swirling penmanship on the pages.

Dear (Y/N),

Thank you for the photographs – Quidditch seems absolutely marvellous. We are delighted that you had such a nice time, & Pugsley is more eager than ever to learn to fly a broom, perhaps you can teach him what you have learnt in your lessons when you return. We are so very pleased that you have made a new acquaintance, what a good influence she seems – setting fire to a teacher. We should have to meet her.

Wednesday apologises for not being able to write to you this week, but she & Pugsley were playing in the kitchen and she burnt her fingers on Grandmama’s cauldron. Though she cannot write with it, she is rather disappointed that she will have no scarring to show for it.

I hope you have been doing well with your studies & your own ambitions; your father reminds you that he will be testing your sword skills when you return in December, & Wednesday will be very disappointed if you will not be of enough challenge (in her own words, of course, darling).

We hope you enjoy your gift for this week – darling, if you had told us sooner that there was no coffee at Hogwarts we would have sent you some ages ago. How dreadful for you. I have no doubt you’ll savour it now, & do tell us when you run out next time.

Your father & I are missing you torturously, the house feels so different in your absence. We simply cannot wait to see you again.

Have a wonderful time, & do tell us of any trouble you make. Reply soon.

With love and pain,

Your mother & family. X

(Y/N) smiled at the letter as she placed it back into the envelope, then quickly began opening the small box before her. The smell of ground coffee wafted through the air as she pulled the bag out; it was strong and of good quality, but most importantly it was the instant kind; hot water was far easier to get than a coffee machine, after all. And to the side of the bag, she was pleased to find a new mug to pair with it, a polished black skin and deep red interior, a red cat’s eye decorating the front. Immediately she began looking for a teapot and sugar to put in her mug, excited to have her first coffee in months. “How long do we have until we have to be in class?” She asked to whoever would answer.

Bridget, who was sat two seats away, leaned over to answer. “Fifteen minutes,” she said, downing the rest of her pumpkin juice and reaching for her bag.

(Y/N) nodded and began mixing three spoons of coffee into the hot water she’d managed – luckily the pot had just enough left for one cup. “I guess I’ll just bring this with me then.”

The girls rushed through the chilly stone hallways towards the Transfiguration classroom, (Y/N) grasping her mug with both hands like it was the most dear thing in the world, ignoring Saoirse’s whispered giggles as she chanted ‘my precious’ over her shoulder (which Bridget didn't understand at all).

Professor McGonagall was writing on the chalkboard as they entered the classroom and took their seats, talking amongst themselves. (Y/N) spotted Hermione already sat down and waved, pleased to see the girl wave back. “Miss Addams,” McGonagall addressed her calmly, drawing a few eyes her way, “I do remember telling you all that beverages are not allowed in my classroom.” She reminded with a raised brow.

(Y/N) hesitated in her seat, then let out a deep, tortured sigh and quickly drank the last five gulps and slipped the empty mug into her bag, wishing she could have savoured it a little longer and not scalded her mouth.

(Y/N) was starting on the B’s in the Divination section of the library, piling up any books that could be useful before joining Saoirse and Rahim at a table. They had become a sort of study group, helping each other with their work. Rahim slowly started to become more comfortable around (Y/N), now that he knew she wasn’t evil or insane like some of the earlier rumours suggested. He was good at DADA and Charms, found History of Magic painfully boring, and occasionally made a joke or comment dark enough to earn a snicker from her. And he was always telling Saoirse some new and interesting fact he’d read about when he was supposed to be focusing on a different subject.

As December drew nearer, teachers had started handing out more and more homework before the holidays, and the library was always full because of it; no one wanted to fall behind and have to take any of it home.

So far, (Y/N) was enjoying most of her subjects for this term – they were all so much more interesting than anything she would have learned in a plain muggle secondary school. Herbology was proving to be incredibly interesting, all of those dangerous plants waiting to bite your hand off or poison your lungs. Perhaps she could snatch a seed or two to give her mother for Yule, a Venemous Tentacular would look spectacular in the greenhouse.

She hadn’t expected to be given written homework for flying class, though. But she supposed it made sense; brooms were a mode of transportation, after all. She had to write about the different manoeuvrers they’d learned, and how to perform them, the different positions in Quidditch, and a whole list of the rules. It was a lot of work, but if (Y/N) wanted to get a broom for her birthday she would have to do well in class.

It was just a little difficult to focus enough to get things done when her mind was set on other things.

Tapping her quill on her parchment, (Y/N) let out a sigh and rolled her neck, hearing Saoirse and Rahim talking about Charms in the background. She was just about to give up on her final paragraph when she saw a familiar head of bushy brown hair pass down the bookcase to her left. “Hermione.” She voiced, half a whisper and half a shout, seeing the girl turn around and peak her head out from the corner.

The Gryffindor approached her desk, smiling shyly with some books clutched to her chest. “Hello,” she said, looking to (Y/N)’s friends.

“Would you like to sit with us?” (Y/N) asked – if she was going to start having friends she might as well commit (she’d never had many before, so what was there to lose?). She gestured to the seat in front of her, beside Rahim who smiled at her.

“Oh,” Hermione blushed, looking a little caught off guard, “really?”

“Sure ya can,” Saoirse agreed with a grin, “we’re just studyin’.”

Hermione nodded and sat down next to the Ravenclaw, blushing at all the attention. It was then that (Y/N) figured Hermione didn’t have a lot of friends, she seemed so taken aback by the offer and flustered by the eyes on her, and like she didn’t quite know what to say. “This is Rahim and my roommate Saoirse,” she introduced, glad that Hermione was settling herself as she repeated her name back.

“We’re just working on the Charms homework,” said Rahim, letting his hair fall into his eyes – a nervous habit (Y/N) had noticed, “have you done it yet?”

Hermione nodded and pulled on her sleeve. “I was working on it earlier, but it got a bit busy in my common room so… I came here.” She nervously answered, adjusting her red and gold tie.

“None of your friends worked on it yet?” Saoirse asked innocently as she fiddled with the wrapping of a lollipop, offering one to Hermione.

Shaking her head, the brunette seemed to flush again. “No, erm, I don’t mind studying with them, but they always ask me to read over it for them and I’m starting to figure out that it’s how they make sure they’re getting the right answers.” She explained with the corner of a smile. “I just tend to work faster on my own, is all.” Then her eyes widened as she stumbled to correct herself. “N-not that I don’t want to sit with you! I do – I just meant--”

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) interrupted, dipping her black quill into her ink and continuing to write, “we get it. You can sit here whenever.” She said, looking to the others for confirmation, who nodded in agreement.

“Oh, okay.” Hermione let out a breath, taking out her own writing supplies with a more genuine smile. “Thank you.”

The four of them continued on their homeworks, occasionally asking for an answer or opinion, or starting a discussion about a relevant topic. Hermione started to come out of her shell some more, chatting nicely with the group. Before (Y/N) knew it, she was completing her last essay and finally opening one of the Divination books she’s chosen to skim: Answers in the Remains: A Study in Bone-Throwing by Matilda Marrowe.

“That’s an interesting choice,” Hermione commented, pointing to the cover with the end of her quill, “we don’t get to study Divination until Third Year, though.” She said, obviously curious about the reason for her read.

(Y/N) hesitated her answer, unsure of what to say and what to leave out. She had been keeping this whole Contact a secret, even from her family – even from Wednesday – but then again, so far she’d come up with nothing, maybe she could use some… input.

Glancing at her other two friends, seeing them distracted by an in-depth discussion on Animagi, (Y/N) decided it wouldn’t be so bad to reveal a little. “I’m… looking for something,” she began, “but I don’t know where to look, so I’m looking for some clues to give me… I don’t know, some sort of a start.”

Hermione frowned in thought, tapping her finger on her book. “Well, what are you looking for exactly?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I’m not sure.” But she realised that her vague answers weren’t getting her any help, so she relented and leaned in close. “On Hallowe’en, I performed a séance,” she whispered, ignoring how Hermione’s eyes widened in fear, “I was supposed to make Contact with my grandparents, but I accidentally spoke to someone else.” She explained, hearing Hermione gasp. “They told me to find something, but they faded away before they could tell me what.”

Hermione seemed to ponder this for a moment, looking weary but interested nonetheless. “So, you want to figure out what the Message could mean?” She asked, biting her lip when (Y/N) simply shrugged in frustration. “Well… have you tried to… you know, get back in touch?”

(Y/N) grimaced. “Well, no. But it will be more difficult now that Hallowe’en has passed and the Veil is stronger; it was hard enough to keep a Connection before as it was. I don’t have enough experience to do it safely.”

“Well, isn’t there something else you can do? Maybe anything in the Message you could look into some more?” Hermione asked.

(Y/N) gave Hermione a suspicious look, fiddling with the pages of her notebook. “You don’t seemed to be freaked out by this.” She said bluntly, leaving an open question hanging.

“Well, as far as magic goes, I suppose séances aren’t that bad,” she said surprisingly, “there’s some old ladies down my street who do them, not that I ever thought they were really doing much. I’m sure they just have an Ouija board and talk in silly voices.”

(Y/N) laughed then, nodding at her new friend. Yes, her parents would certainly like this one. “Aren’t you full of surprises – first degree arson and now an enabler of amateur Dark Magic. Not such the teacher���s pet after all.” She grinned, making Hermione laugh and shush her.

Despite being only a year younger than (Y/N), Wednesday often seemed to have wisdom beyond her years. She was very well-read, took pride in her knowledge, and enjoyed a good mystery. For these reasons, (Y/N) knew she was her best option for advice on this little paranormal problem. Of course, it helped that she was the one person (Y/N) knew she could always be honest with.

Which was exactly why she was writing to her now.

Dear Wednesday,

I know you’ve burnt your hand and are unable to write, but please respond as soon as you are able. Something rather strange has happened and I’m not sure what to make of it, but trying to work it all out on my own has been too difficult.

Glancing to the opening journal on her desk and the scattered sketches laid over the black pages, (Y/N) twirled her quill and decided how exactly to phrase what she wanted to write.

First, please do not repeat any of this to a single soul – this is strictly our secret – not even our parents can know.

When I wrote home after Hallowe’en, I said that I had failed to Connect with our grandparents, which is true, but what I didn’t write is that I accidentally made a Connection with someone – or something – else.

(Y/N) recounted the entire evening in her letter, describing the Visions she’d had in as great details as she could. Everything from the noise she’d heard in the Dungeons to the weakness she’d felt after the séance.

She wasn’t really sure what Wednesday could do to help, or what advice she may give, but (Y/N) realised she was hitting a wall in this maze of questions. Who better to trust?

Please reply as soon as you can, anything you can give me at this point I’m sure will help.

Awaiting your reply,

(Y/N)

Sealing the letter with the red wax from her candle, (Y/N) stamped it closed and sat back, studying her sketched out Visions again. Where to begin? The charcoal figure reaching out in the dark mocked her, like it was asking ‘why can’t you figure it out?’ every time she looked at it.

The air was bitterly cold outside, but the chill clung to her comfortably. There was an old tree near the edge of the Forbidden Forest that (Y/N) had set her eye on. A tall, old holly tree with a wide trunk and sharp leaves; its red berries were plump and poisonous, a beautiful thing. A raven sat perched on one of the branches, staring down at her with watchful dark eyes, unbothered by her presence.

She was in need of the alone time, and getting out of the castle for a while would do her some good. There wasn’t anywhere close by to practice her sword skills, and she wasn’t sure if her weapon would be confiscated. The séance was one thing, but Wednesday would certainly have comments if she returned home and her swordsmanship skills had declined.

Lunging forward, (Y/N) swung her rapier from the left, slicing the bark of the twisting tree trunk as it hit. She spun in the other direction and swung out her blade again, hitting the wood with practiced accuracy. The skirt of her black coat swished out with each movement, buttoned up out of the way.

It was therapeutic, in a way, a way to take out her frustrations. The repetitive motion of hitting her target and her smooth footwork soon tamed her anger. Why couldn’t this spirit just tell her what to do? Why should she have to do it all herself? What would happen if she simply ignored the whole thing and did nothing?

Nothing good, her intuition told her. If someone had contacted her from the Beyond with a Message, ignoring it would almost certainly anger them, and who knows what may happen then?

The first snow of the season was starting to settle, a thin layer of white coating the ground, but beneath the forest trees (Y/N) was sheltered from it. It was nice; snow always brought such deep silence, a peace like no other. It was exactly the calm she needed.

What she didn’t need was an interruption.

The forest was so cloaked in silence that even the smallest snap of a twig sounded much louder than it was; (Y/N) whipped around immediately, rapier flying out in her outstretched hand.

“Merlin’s pants!” Cried the person standing at the other end of her blade, the sharp point just inches from their nose.

(Y/N) lowered her weapon and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

The boy frowned back and tightened his green scarf around his neck, still eyeing the sword warily, as if she was going to lift it up and slice at his face (he pondered that she probably would if he pushed her buttons too much). “I should ask you the same thing.” Malfoy replied, wondering how she’d managed to sneak a weapon like that into the school.

“I asked first.” (Y/N) said, gripping the hilt in her dominant hand in frustration.

Malfoy scoffed. “I’m not answering until you do.”

The nerve of this boy, (Y/N) thought. First he interrupts her peaceful afternoon in the forest, where she was supposed to be alone and away from prying eyes like his – and then he tries to bargain an explanation from her with the argument of a child!

Well, they were actually children… but the poor argument was still beneath him.

Sighing in frustration, (Y/N) relented; too tired to play his stupid games. “I’m practising.” She answered with a glare.

“Practising what?”

“Oh I’m golfing- what do you think?” She spat sarcastically, waving her blade at her side to draw his eye to it. “Now, why are you here?” She repeated in annoyance as she sheathed her sword, not feeling much like striking the tree in his judgemental presence.

He shrugged, toeing his shoe in the damp earth. “Just walking, felt like doing something I’m not supposed to.”

It probably shouldn’t have, but the answer surprised her; Draco Malfoy didn’t seem like the type to risk getting into trouble just for the sake of it. Then again, she didn’t know him very well.

The Forbidden Forest was completely out of bounds to unsupervised students, with the exception of the Care for Magical Creatures clearing just at the edge of the woods – even the faculty was advised against lone entry, for the many dangers that lurked in its endless shadows. It was exactly why it made for such a nice walk when in need of some space; so perhaps they were there for much the same reasons.

“How’d you sneak that in?” Malfoy asked after a stretch of silence, leaning against the birch tree beside him.

(Y/N) glanced down at the simple black sheath that hung at her hip and rolled her eyes. “Everyone at this school is carrying around what is potentially the most harmful weapon in existence and you’re worried about a sharp peace of metal?”

The boy’s brows furrowed as he seemed to contemplate it. “I didn’t think of it like that…”

“Of course you didn’t.” She said, it was obvious to her so far that a lot of purebloods her age hadn’t considered much of anything regarding comparisons between magic and non-magic things.

Malfoy scowled at her, though the effect was dampened by his pink nose and cheeks. He didn’t seem to have much to say in return, only moving to pull his scarf tighter around his neck to keep the chill off of his skin.

She hated that he was here; out of all of the people at Hogwarts who could have disturbed her afternoon, why did it have to be this stupid, arrogant pureblood? Honestly, she would rather have been caught by Snape. But, instead of allowing his presence to punish her and sour the atmosphere, (Y/N) decided to ignore him completely. Just because he was there, it doesn’t mean she had to talk to him, does it?

Turning her back on the boy, (Y/N) unsheathed her rapier with her head held high, listening to the sharp ssssssht that rang out as the blade glided out of its casing. She could feel his eyes on her, but refused to acknowledge him still. For a few blissful minutes, (Y/N) was able to continue her practise uninterrupted, focusing on nothing but her footwork and wrist-movements. But then Malfoy had to go and open his mouth again.

“Why do you do that?” He asked from his spot against the birch tree. She couldn’t quite tell if his tone was condescending or curious; so she decided to assume the former.

“Do what?” She replied as she lunged forward toward the holly tree, focusing on her posture.

“It seems like a pretty useless skill to me.” Said Malfoy – did everything that came out of his mouth have to be irritating?

(Y/N) huffed and gritted her teeth, slicing the bark in front of her at a forty-five degree angle and wishing it was his face. “Shows what you know. But it’s a very sophisticated sport, so I don’t expect you to understand.” She withheld a smirk. There was only one good thing about Draco Malfoy: it was so easy to get under his skin.

Malfoy bristled and stood straight, a frustrated noise escaping him. “What would you know about sophisticated sports? I play Quidditch, you know! I’m going to be on next year’s team!�� He argued, his face flushing from pink to red as he pointed a finger at her.

She barely paid attention to him, knowing it would only annoy him more (oh she certainly took pleasure in annoying him). “Sure, Quidditch is a boastful sport, but that’s hardly going to be useful.” (Y/N) said, flicking her braid over her shoulder and pulling her black sleeves back over her wrists before she continued her graceful movements, her blade slicing through the air. “We Addams’ take pride in our mastery of weapons – it’s how we show our capability to protect our family. How are you going to help anyone with Quidditch? Throw a ball at the enemy?”

Malfoy was the very picture of angry; face flushed, hands curled into fists, stance stiff and upright – it was laughable, really. “No – I’m a Seeker.”

“Oh, so even less helpful, then.” (Y/N) smirked, spinning her sword at her side. “At least you can fly away.”

“I bet I can fly faster than you!” He retorted, scrambling for a victory in this losing battle of verbal chess. “How about it? I’ll race you to… to the top of Hogwarts!” Malfoy dared, pointing a gloved finger to the castle peaking through the trees.

(Y/N) glanced behind her to the pointed towers in the near distance, folding her arms. “No.”

“Because you don’t think you can?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Malfoy laughed condescendingly. “You’re just scared.”

She glowered at him darkly, gritting her teeth. “I don’t get scared. I just have better things to do than waste my time on stupid bets.” She said, turning her back on him and deciding to head back to the school. But she still had one last blow to deliver, just to really get on his nerves. “Besides, you already lost the last bet you made on a broom – Harry Potter really owes you one, you got him noticed.”

Now that really ought to piss him off.

Taking the snow-dusted path through the forest, (Y/N) allowed herself a wicked smile at the sound of Malfoy’s anger as he groaned and kicked at the ground in frustration. He was awfully fun to toy with.

As she emerged through the trees, checking for any people nearby who could report her whereabouts, (Y/N) looked up at Hogwarts as she considered the boy’s bet; how difficult would it be to fly all the way to the top? It was certainly very high, a gradual ascent seemed like the best option, but the many towers and features of the architecture would prove to be obstacles. It was then, as she was walking down the hill, that (Y/N) noticed two things. The first was that two large towers very close to each other were almost identical. The second: they looked exactly like the snow-covered tower in her Visions from Beyond.

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[opheliajupiter99]

PLAY (OUAW horror fanfic)

*Hootsie was laying in the soft, cozy grass of the Feywild, beside a gently flickering campfire. Her uncles, papa, and newly acquired aunt were all asleep. Papa hadn't started calling her 'aunt' yet, but she felt like he would soon - after all, the little brownie had already been so kind to them*

*She wasn't asleep though. She probably should've by now, and before her papa drifted off to sleep, he had told her to at least -try- and go to bed. But she just couldn't pull herself away from her Flypad. She always couldn't, of course, but especially since they had entered the Feywild. Usually, papa at least made an attempt to get her to do other things, though the Flypad was always nearby, but since they'd arrived, he'd been especially eager to hand it to her - distracting her from things he didn't want her to see*

*So, even as the night grew so dark that the glow of her screen was the only light, and bugs gently buzzed around her heard, drawn by said light, she kept on watching. She watched images of a cheerful sea cucumber bounce about the screen, so full of joy, bright colors dancing across the pad*

*Then suddenly - it stopped. The Flypad didn't turn off; rather, the image upon it had frozen. She tilted her head and let out an ever so soft cooing hoot in confusion, before the image suddenly turned to incoherent static. She stared at it for a moment, thinking; she didn't want to wake up her family, especially knowing she wasn't supposed to be up this late. Maybe she should just try to get to sleep...*

*Before she could, she noticed a color out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head towards Uncle Kremy's sleeping bag, or more specifically, the cane that loyally rested beside him. The skull upon the top of said cane had begun to glow; bright enough for her to notice, but not bright enough to wake Uncle Kremy. She was even more confused now. She'd never seen his cane glowing without him -making- it glow; at least not the way it was glowing now*

"Hi!" *Said a cheerful voice from her Flypad, drawing her attention back to its screen, which was still engulfed in static. Much like the glow, it was loud enough for her to notice, but not loud enough to wake the others. At first, she assumed the voice was from the show she'd been watching; I mean, that's all it -could- be, right?*

"Hootsie. Ya name's Hootsie, yeah?" *Her wide eyes blinked. That couldn't be the show; not just because the voice had spoken her name, but because that sounded nothing like any of the characters she knew. She shifted a bit in her seat* "Aye now, don't be spooked, lil' one. I'm a friend of ya uncle's, the scaley one I mean, heh. I just wanted to play a bit, since ya seemed to be havin' some trouble snoozin' anyways."

*She pondered this explanation a moment. Did he mean like...the friends on the other side? That'd certainly explain why the cane glowed - and why he could speak through her Flypad. She was silent for a moment. The voice chuckled softly* "Oh yeah, ya can't talk. Just think ya words, like Uncle Frosty does, I'll hear em, don'tcha worry." *After another moment, she thought in her head 'What's your name?'*

"My name? Ah, that don't be important. Like I said, I just be a friend of ya uncle; one of lots and lots of friends. Now come along - if we're to be playin', we gotta be doin' it fast. Much like ya, I gotta make sure nobody knows I'm awake." *She softly chirped to herself. She would like to play, and Uncle Kremy's friends had always helped them before. But...something about this didn't feel quite right. 'I should really get to sleep, mister' she thought in her head*

*The thought was followed by a period of silence. So silent in fact that she couldn't even hear the crackle of the campfire, or the buzzing of fireflies up above - or even the sound of her family breathing. She blinked twice, and she quickly began to realize how deeply the darkness was encroaching. Had the campfire gone out? Where...where even was she right now?*

-

*In the morning, the found family awoke, one by one, completely unaware of the mysterious activity that had taken place the previous night, almost as if it hadn't happened at all. This was quickly proven untrue, however, as Gricko's panicked shriek filled the air, at the realization Hootsie was nowhere to be found, vanishing in the blink of an eye, much the same way she had back at the Witchlight Carnival, what felt like so long ago. And gently laid in front of her sleeping bag was her beloved Flypad, the screen cracked and the image upon it contorted with static. But amongst the static, a single word, in bold letters could be read*

PLAY

[bodhrancomedy]

Hey, hey, who wants one of my favourite scenes from Tocktick the second highest voted novel in my poll?

(I’m working on Flies in Amber, I gotta redo the beginning)

“Why are you up?” Talas asked.

“Why are you?”

Raising an eyebrow at the bite in the other man’s question, Talas leant back on his box. “My body does not like me. Pain is hard to ignore after dark.”

“Oh. ‘m sorry.” It was genuine.

“So, why are you up?”

Sixsmith looked away. “Just am.”

“… can I request a better answer?”

“No. Fuck off.” Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Dun’t tell Emmett.”

Talas tapped his heart twice. “Sun-God’s Oath.”

“’m… havin’ trouble sleepin’. Nightmares.”

“What kind of nightmares?”

Sixsmith hunched, hands clasping the mug like a lifeline. “Bad ones.”

Talas cleared his throat hesitantly. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“What does?”

“The nightmares must be terrifying.”

“What?”

“We are having a civil conversation.”

Sixsmith laughed. “We are, aren’t we?”

“I do declare the sky is about to fall.”

He laughed again and Talas felt himself crack a smile. He edged closer to the other man and took a swig of his tea. “What are they about?”

Sixsmith smiled weakly but said nothing.

Talas swallowed another mouthful, feeling the burn down his throat. “If it makes you feel better,” he began slowly, “My worst nightmare is about being chased by a goat.”

A splutter from beside him made him grin. Sixsmith looked up, eyes wide. “A goat?”

“Have you ever seen a Heliokratos goat?”

“No?”

“They are petrifying. Big, golden, three great big – uh –“ Talas made a crown of fingers on his forehead – “spikes…?”

“Horns?”

“Yes! Horns!” he scratched his neck and confessed, “I lied. They are not so very big, but they do have three great horns. I was chased by two as a boy.”

“What did you do?” Sixsmith sat forwards, his eyes gleaming and not just from the fire.

Talas shrugged modestly. “It was a dare. There was a farm not too far from the boarding school. I was trying to take a handful of their… uh… fluff. Wool. They woke up and chased me. I barely made it over the fence.”

Even thought he was expecting it, the bark of laughter from his right made him jump. Sixsmith’s shoulders were shaking, even as he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

Hastily wiping the trickle of hot tea down the side of his mug, Talas said archly, “I am glad my nightmare is so amusing.”

“‘M sorry, Talas, but you deserved that one.” Sixsmith took a few fortifying breaths before adding, “It’s just a funny image, you as a wee kid in some fancy uniform runnin’ hell fer leather ‘cross a field wi’ a massive goat on your heels.” He leant over and gently clapped Talas’ shoulder, “Such a diff’rence to the res-pect-able man before me tonight.”

“It was the night time. I was in my pyjamas.”

Sixsmith held up a hand, “My apologies.”

“We spent most of the night trying to wash out the mud before the matron found out,” Talas protested, “it was a memorable experience and I do not know why I do not dream more of that, but evidently the goat made a greater impression.” He paused for effect, taking another sip of tea. “I could not sit properly for days.”

He saw Sixsmith grin, but he had turned back to the fire. He was gripping the cracked mug again, his knuckles white skulls against the cheerful yellow.

Keeping his voice as light as he could, Talas said, “So, what are your nightmares about?” He tried a cheerful smile, but knew it looked as fake as it felt. “Now that you know that mine are utterly unimpressive.”

Silence save for the crackling of the fire answered him. The air was suddenly heavy and thick, the shadows seeming just a little darker.

Talas waited, heart thudding and hardly daring to breathe.

Sixsmith’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed conclusively. Once, twice. He opened his mouth and shut it again, shaking his head.

“I apologise. I was prying. Rude of me, I know -“

“People without eyes.” Sixsmith’s voice was low, but Talas heard him perfectly. “I dream about people who dun’t have any eyes.”

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Subaru [01]

ー The scene starts in the dungeon of the Violet Manor

Subaru: Aah? Why me?

Yui: ( Uu, his glare gives me cold shivers...But this guy, for some reasonーー )

You seemed like a nice person so...

Subaru: Hah? I think you’re gettin’ the wrong idea here. Fuck off... Besides, I don’t wanna have to bother watchin’ over you!

Yui: B-But we agreed that I would choose one person...

Subaru: Che, what a pain.

...Fine, I just gotta do it, right!? But don’t cause trouble for me, ‘kay?

Yui: O-Okay. Thank you very much.

( He actually accepted it. Sure, he might seem scary on the outside, but strangely enough, he strikes me as a kind person. )

( I’m not sure why I feel that way though... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Nn...Where am I...?

( Ah...Right. The manor’s dungeon...I must have fallen asleep. )

Monologue

After waking up at the Church,

I was taken to the Violet Manor.

Once locked away in the dungeon,

they told me to choose someone to watch over me, so I picked Subaru-san.

While he may seem scary at first glance,

I feel as if he has a gentle side to him as well.

With that in mind,

I asked him to be in charge of supervising me, butーー

Subaru: What? You’re awake?

Yui: ...! Yes, I woke up.

( I wonder if he kept an eye on me the whole time while I was asleep as well? I didn’t notice at all. )

( Also, is he upset or something? He seems to be in a really foul mood. )

( At first he struck me as a kind guy for some reason, but perhaps that was a misunderstanding on my part...? )

Subaru: What’s your problem? You’re so annoyin’. Don’t just watch me in silence. If you’ve got somethin’ to say, spit it out!

Yui: W-Well...My bad.

( He said I should say what’s on my mind so...I guess I’ll ask? )

Uhm, how long will I have to stay in this cell?

Subaru: Like I know. That’s up to Carla to decide.

Yui: ( In other words, there’s no telling when I’ll be able to get out? )

Excuse me! Can’t you ask him to let me out?

Subaru: Are you dumb? Hell no.

Sure, you might be the ‘legendary Eve’ who is necessary for someone to become the next Supreme Overlord, but I bet you think you’re oh-so special, don’t you?

That arrogance of yours pisses me the hell off.

Yui: ...Ugh.

( I guess it’s no use after all...Seems like I only made him even more mad. )

Subaru: Che. Thanks for ruinin’ my mood even more.

I want to just isolate myself in my room, and as if that isn’t bad enough, I’m here havin’ to look after some chick instead.

Yui: I-I’m sorry...

Subaru: Aah!? Too fuckin’ late to apologize now!

Yui: Eek...!

Subaru: The way you flinch like that pisses me off too. You’re the one who chose me for this job, remember? 

Are you havin’ regrets now or somethin’!?

*Thud*

Yui: Kyaah!?

( H-He dented the iron bars with his foot...I was wrong to think he’s a nice guy. He’s incredibly rough around the edges...! )

Subaru: Fuck! This anger has made me thirsty...

...Oi, come here for a sec.

Yui: Eh...?

Subaru: Hurry up. Walk up to the bars.

Yui: Ah, s-sure...

( Who knows what he’ll do if I refuse....I have no other choice but to obey. )

ー Yui approaches the iron bars

Yui: I-Is this okay?

Subaru: ...You actually came? What a dumb woman you are.

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: Everyone at this manor is a Vampire. Myself included.

Yui: Y-Yes...

( I wonder what he means with that? )

Subaru: I can tell by the look on your face that you don’t get it at all. ...It’s that ignorance which will come biting you in the ass. Like this!

*Clang*

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!?

*Rustle*

Yui: L-Let me go, please! What on earth are you...!?

Subaru: I’m tryin’ to teach you that you don’t understand your own position. From a Vampire’s point of view, humans are our food.

Maybe you were hopin’ to get treated like some damn Princess ‘cause you’re the legendary Eve but...

I’ll remind you that as long as you’re down here, you’re nothin’ but mere prey.

Yui: N-No way!

*Rustle*

Subaru: Come on, I’ll suck from your shoulder. It might hurt if you don’t keep still. Nn...Nnh...

ー Subaru bites her

Yui: ...Ah.

( He’s sucking my blood...His fangs are sinking into my shoulder...! )

( Is this what he meant by ‘prey’? Am I going to spend the rest of my days locked up down here as these people feed off my blood? )

( No, I don’t want that...! )

Stop! Let me go, please!

*Rustle* 

Subaru: Oi, don’t thrash ‘bout! Didn’t I tell you to keep still!?

Anyway, the fuck’s up with this blood...? It’s way more sweet than I thought.

Damnit, I just wanted to scare you a lil’ by bitin’ you but I can’t stop...! ...Nn...

Yui: ...Kuh...

( These fangs...This pain...For some reason, it feels nostalgic to me. Do I know this sensation...? )

( Why? How...? )

Subaru: Nn...Hah...Nnh...

Yui: Aah...!

ー Yui starts growing dizzy

Yui: ( The place where he bit is burning...The heat’s rising to my head andーー )

ー She experiences flashbacks of her past memories

Yui: Wha...?

( What...? Where is...that place I saw just now? )

ー Yui has another flashback

Yui: ( Uu...! ...What are these images...? )

( I know...this house. It’s a very nostalgic place but... )

( Uu, kuh...It’s like something is stirring up my mind... )

*Riiiing*

Yui: Ah...Aah...

...I...I...

Subaru: Haah...What’s wrong? Is somethin’ the matter?

Yui: That place...

It is the home, we must return to...

Subaru: ...Haah?

ー Yui regains her memories

Yui: Aah...! Aaaaaaah!!!

*WOOSH*

ー The screen temporarily fades to white

Yui: ( A bunch of different images and information...are swirling inside my head at once... )

( Right...I am, we areーー )

Uu...Kuh...

Subaru: Oi!? What has gotten into you all of a sudden!? Whatcha screamin’ for!?

Yui: ...No, I am not the legendary Eve.

I’m...Yui...

Subaru: ...Haah?

Yui: ( Right...I remembered everything. )

( I moved into the Sakamaki manor and met Subaru-kunーー Then we eventually started dating. )

( I could have sworn I was there before I suddenly awoke at the Church. Where is this place? )

( Why did I...forget who I am? )

( It’s not just me either. Everyone is acting strange. )

Subaru: What’s with that dumb look on your face...? Did you lose your mind ‘cause I sucked a bit of your blood?

Yui: No, I haven’t. I remembered everything, that’s all...

How could I forget about something so important...?

Hey, Subaru-kun! What is going on? Where are we!?

Subaru: Haah? 

Yui: Why are Carla-san and the others at the same manor...? Do the Tsukinami brothers own these lands?

Subaru: Oh shut up...What nonsense do you keep spoutin’?

Yui: Eh...?

Subaru: Did you forget overnight? Carla is my older brother. Why would it be strange for him to live here?

Yui: No way...

( Carla-san is his older brother? There’s just no... )

( But they did introduce themselves like that yesterday. What is going on? )

R-Right. Where is Ayato-kun? And Kanato-kun...You remember your own brothers, don’t you?

Subaru: My brothers? Those dudes from the Orange House?

Hah! The fuck are you sayin’? They’re the enemy!

Yui: No way...

*Thud* 

Yui: T-Then, what about me!? Do you know who I am!?

Subaru: You’re Eve, right? The woman needed to become the Supreme Overlord of this place. I haven’t forgotten that.

Yui: No, that’s not what I meant...

( We’re a couple, Subaru-kun. ...Sakamaki Subaru-kun. )

Selection

→ Tell him that you are dating (♡)

Yui: ( I wonder if he’ll remember if I tell him the truth...? )

Hey, Subaru-kun. We’re dating, you know.

Subaru: ...Haah? You’ve been spoutin’ nothin’ but bullcrap this one time, but that one beats all.

Are you sayin’ that sorta stuff ‘cause you wanna get outta here and regain your freedom?

I won’t let you out of your cell, even if you keep on talkin’ out of your ass.

In the end, you’ll just get chased ‘round by those other guys if you make it out of here.

Then I’d argue that you’re still better off down here.

→ Tell him that you know each other (🖤)

Yui: ( Subaru-kun sees me as a stranger...? )

( His memories are jumbled up after all... )

( Even if he can’t recall that we’re lovers, I wish he would remember me somewhere deep downーー ) 

Subaru-kun. We didn’t meet for the first time yesterday.

We’ve known each other...for a very long time.

Subaru: Che...Why are you makin’ all of this crap up?

I met you for the first time yesterday. Now cut the crap or you’ll be in for a world of pain.

Yui: ( I guess he won’t believe me after all... )

Subaru: ...Do you want to get outta here so badly?

Even if you somehow were to escape this manor, you’ll just be caught by one of the other guys. You really are an idiot.

Yui: ( Subaru-kun wouldn’t joke around about something like this... )

( He truly does not does doubt the fact that he is Subaru from the Violet Manor. )

( Could it be that his memories have been altered, just like mine were up till now? And those of the others’ too. )

( I wonder what we’ve gotten ourselves caught up in...? )

Subaru: ...Why do you look mortified?

Aah, I guess it makes sense to be in shock after havin’ your blood sucked for the first time ever. You’ve only got your own carelessness to blame though.

Yui: ( No, that wasn’t the first time. He’s drank my blood so many times. )

( But right now, I’m mere food in this eyes, not his girlfriend or anything even remotely close to that... )

( Almost as if we’re back to square one...That just can’t be. )

Subaru: Oi, don’t be tearin’ up now. The other guys will get the wrong idea.

*Thud*

ー Kou approaches them

Kou: Hey there~! Getting along just fine? You guysー ...Wait. Woah, what’s with the heavy atmosphere?

Azusa: Eve...Looks as if she’s about to cry. Did something...happen?

Yui: ( Kou-kun, Azusa-kun... )

Kou: Ah! You were picking on her, weren’t you!?

Azusa: You mustn’t...Subaru. You have to take good care of Eve...

Subaru: Don’t be makin’ assumptions! I’m not a lil’ kid!

Anyway, why are you guys here? 

Kou: Ah, right! Carla-kun’s asking for you. There’s something he wants to talk about, apparently.

Subaru: Carla does?

Azusa: Yes...That’s why we’ve come to get the two of you...

Yui: Eh...?

Subaru: ...She’s coming as well?

Yui: ( Subaru-kun’s glaring at me. I guess he’s suspicious of me after I said all those strange things... )

Subaru: I don’t mind lettin’ her out of her cell, but don’t blame me when she makes a run for it!

She’s willing to go as far as to lie just to escape this place after all.

Yui: ( I never lied though... )

Azusa: Don’t worry...We’ll help out as well, so let’s go while keeping a close eye on her, so she doesn’t escape... 

Subaru: Lock her up, then let her out. Stop changin’ your damn mind every five seconds.

Kou: Go complain to Carla-kun about that. It’s not our fault.

Azusa: ...Carla is the eldest son of the Violet House, so we only do as he says...

Yui: ( Kou-kun and Azusa-kun don’t seem doubtful of the current family make-up either... )

( Even though Carla-san is a Founder, so there’s no way he’d be related to Vampires. )

( I wonder how this happened...? )

Subaru: ...God, what a drag. Oi, Eve! Get outta your cell. Don’t cause me trouble, ‘kay?

Yui: ( Does the problem lie with everyone else? Or maybe I’m the issue...? I don’t know, Subaru-kun! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

Wh-

What the f-

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HELLO EXCUSE ME WHAT-

Yeah. This is fine. This is great, even! I'm just scrolling around on Tumblr, havin a good time, then I see some asks talking about the new page and I get excited. I riot in my head, even! I squeal with joy because I absolutely adore your art!

Then Sonic pushes Shadow away and my heart breaks in half.

wtf /pos and /lh

I wanna psychoanalyze this so fuccin bad so I'm gonna try my best but everything is so clear and easy to see so idk how obvious this will all be. I'll have a TLDR at the end that will hopefully be shorter idfk

Also before I do that I just wanna say that I absolutely love THOAM and I'm so glad I've been along on such a crazy journey for this long. Love seeing your art evolve throughout the 2 years I've been here!

ok let's get on with it already-

---

Okay so the first thing I noticed is Sonic's demeanor in this entire chapter so far. Sonic wasn't necessarily pissed at Shadow before coming here, (I still fail to remember the name of their location) but he was a bit... He seemed angered to some degree. This obviously has to do with the lack of sleep he's been getting due to his incredibly painful transformation, and uh side note here, transforming on its own would be enough to make someone feel out of sorts. I totally understand why Sonic is acting odd, in this case.

Anyway, the point I'm making is that Shadow has slowly been testing Sonic's patience throughout this and the last chapter. In the last one, Shadow said something incredibly rude and impulsive, which lead to Sonic staying behind in the dorm while Shadow and Chip were getting mawled. He only came back because he knew they were in deep trouble. The hug he got from Shadow didn't really help all that much, even if it was a kind gesture and something the Ultimate Lifeform wouldn't typically do. Because, y'know, it's just a hug. People hug others all the time, and it's not even close to a real apology.

Then Chip stayed behind with Tails. And... Suddenly, Sonic took a complete 180!

Without Chip around, without Sonic's emotional support buddy, the blue blur is left with all these pent up emotions that he's been refusing to let out for a long time. The last time he cried was days ago when he accidentally attacked Amy, and for us, that was probably like 3-4 years ago at this point. He's hardly had enough time or room to really feel anything, and that leaves him all constipated and icky. Sure, he had to kind of mellow his real feelings when Chip was around because he's just a kid in Sonic's eyes, and when Sonic lashes out it impacts Chip in a bad way. This doesn't mean Sonic feels any better without Chip, because without him, there's no hype man to make him feel better. There are no comforting words or small chit-chats for the road and no pit stops to get snacks... It's just him and Shadow now, and since they're on a pretty important mission to, you know, fix the entire fucking world, there's like no time for breaks.

Combine all this with the fact that Sonic is stuck as a Werehog for this entire chapter, and for the entirety of this specific mission... Yeah, you've got a pretty cranky hedgehog. And here's the sad part in all of this: Sonic doesn't like feeling this angry and this alone, but no one seems to really understand him anymore. Not even Shadow. They don't know what it's like living two whole lives at once, having to go through all this pain and agony for so long and not able to tell a soul. They couldn't possibly comprehend!

So how should he feel when his closest companion makes an effort to understand, even just by a little bit?

---

TL;DR

Sonic is confused and angry at the world. He doesn't understand what to do or how to act, and without Chip's support and unintentional therapy, he's just kinda... Left to his thoughts. Shadow suddenly trying to help after being not very helpful for a while made things even more confusing, and the fact Shadow never told Sonic about the constant nighttime thing... Yeeeeeaaahhh, Sonic's not doing too hot.

Hope this wasn't too long and I hope Tumblr doesn't eat this up due to its length. Thanks so much for reading to the end and thanks for just being you. Because if you didn't exist the world would explode-

<3

NEVER TOO LONG i think others also appreciate the theories ♥

[badlydrawndoc-scratch]

don't really have time or energy to draw this right now so. you're getting it in writing instead

It's not your birthday. At best, you would call it a day that someone who was you once was familiar with.

One that he didn't like either. Sure, you'd pretend to be him for a bit, accept some birthday wishes for him. But it wasn't your birthday. Not to you, at least. You think they all understand, to a point. Dirk does, at least.

That was why you weren't prepared to humour this conversation.

TG: this is hal isnt it

TG: not mad jst

TG: how do i say this?

TT: It seems there's a fairly large chance you're accusing me of not being myself, based off of a totally bullshit statistic.

TT: Care to elaborate?

TG: if u want me to tell u happy birthday 2 i can lmao

TG: dont hafta be weird about impersonatin dirk for that!!!

TT: I...

TT: Sorry. Holdon.

TT: There we go.

TT: As I was about to say, it's not technically my birthday. It's Dirk's. I wasn't even created today.

TT: I'll relay your well-wishes to him whenever he returns. Don't need to ask me about it.

TG: hmm nah i think i like havin' a hold of u for this

TG: if ur like

TG: not REALLY him

TG: but have his memories and shit

TG: todays ur day too

TG: so happy b-day! im not takin' that back either!

TT: ...

TT: I should go.

TT: Dirk probably won't like me monopolizing his account, even if he isn't here.

TT: Thanks, I guess.

You log off without another word, back in your sort-of space. Maybe you'll check in with Jane in a bit. Maybe you'll go through the internet for no apparent reason.

You can't say that that made you feel human. Or that it made you feel better, but... it made you think. It made you feel something. That was a start, right?

---

A firm series of slaps to the back of the cue-ball/head drags you out of your reverie. It's Itchy, hand poised to continue slapping you if you don't acknowledge him.

"Apologies. I must have became lost in thought," you begin, "as tends to happen with the omniscient. That said, there are better ways to get my attention."

Itchy shrugs and tells you he doesn't give a shit. He was just the fastest. The Felt needs you for somethin'. Somethin' he can't tell you about.

"Vague and somewhat sarcastic as always, Itchy. Just get to the point."

He just tells you you're no fun, before half dragging you out of one of your many studies. The whole manor is technically your study. But especially this one.

Itchy only bothers to take you about halfway, to where Crowbar is standing and waiting. He hardly says goodbye before dashing off to who-knows-where, probably to cause trouble somewhere else.

You pretend you don't know what's being hidden from you. You could figure out, and in the back of your mind you have figured out. But surprise is an emotion you like trying to fake.

Sometimes you wish you weren't faking it.

Crowbar walks up to you, with some off-handed comment about how he didn't expect Itchy to get you there on time. Or at all. He can never tell. Nonetheless, he's slightly more gentle when he offers you his hand, like he's not about to effectively drag you across an entire manor.

You don't remember the last time you've had actual contact with someone in a way that wasn't violent. You're not sure it's ever happened, honestly. (In reality, you know that isn't true. You were an indigoblood once, you recall. It's not as clear as the other memories, though.)

Crowbar's hand is felted, unsurprisingly, almost like a pool table. Again. Unsurprising. It's never surprising, but you commit the texture to memory anyway, all but ignoring what he's actually talking about. Something about a celebration.

He says they got the table stickball table fixed, and your attention is drawn again.

"Just call it a pool table."

He says he doesn't feel like it. It's a ball you hit with a stick on a table. Ain't a pool in sight. You agree, silently. The Alternian names for things were as foreign as they were ingrained; you knew them as much as you didn't know them.

Eventually, you're led into what you believe is the living room, and Crowbar lets go of your hand. You don't immediately adjust to the lack of feeling in your hand, almost like you were... severely touch-starved, actually, or something.

That's ridiculous, of course. You aren't technically alive, even if you're not as "soon to die" as you once were.

Someone, you think it could be Quarters, explains that all the Felt knows it isn't technically your birthday, and that it's only such by a few tangents. (You mentally add on that you weren't even created today).

But, Quarters adds, you've been stuck in a rut of sorts for a while. It wasn't really anyone's idea, he says. But it was agreed that it might get you feeling better for a while.

And, for once, you feel surprise. You never thought that they actually cared. Or even noticed. You're just their boss, of course. You're hardly even there.

(You have spent the past few months only leaving the Manor when you absolutely have to.)

You can't say it makes you feel alive. Or better, really. But it made you think. It made you feel something.

And, as you're dragged to play table stickball with Trace and Sawbuck, you decide that's a start.

[galexis-void]

"Down in the Dunkities" (RatMeat)

A/N: Second fic! I'm having trouble trying to write a prequel to Something Sweeter, so in the meantime, have this. Again, the characters may be out of character.

Also, quick note - please don't criticize me if my stories make no sense. My intention is to entertain, not to be logical.

Summary: Dexter's feeling down on life, and of course Bob won't have any of that.

Trigger warnings: Angst (maybe?)

Credit goes to @eunchancorner and their anonymous askers for the idea!

(fic below the cut)

     Dexter had been staring at their hands for the last ten minutes, almost entranced by their own inner monologue. The aftereffect of their needs wasn’t nearly as intense as the actual anticipation itself, but it may have been worse - because now that they were in a relatively stable state of mind, they had all the time in the world to reflect on the horrible things they had done. God, they hated this feeling…

     A low voice behind them snapped them out of their own thoughts. “Dex?”

     Even if the person’s drawl wasn’t a dead giveaway, the pet name definitely was. With a heavy sigh, Dexter glanced over their shoulder to see Bob hovering over them. The large man was leaning on the couch, glancing down at his partner with clear concern. There was almost nothing that unsettled Dexter more than seeing Bob Velseb without a smile.

     “Hey,” Dexter muttered, glancing away. The last thing they needed was to make Bob worry about them.

     “Are ya havin’ those moods again?”

     For a moment, Dexter considered lying. But that would be stupid - they were a terrible liar, and even if they were good at it, Bob seemed to have some kind of built-in lie detector. And even if they didn’t outright say what was wrong, Bob would fuss over them all day until they finally cracked from his kindness.

     “Sort of,” they mumbled in defeat. There really was no point. They were damned if they did, damned if they didn’t. All they could really do was hope Bob wouldn’t be too up in arms about it, and not ask a lot of questions.

     But of course, that was wishful thinking. “You look like ya haven’t slept. Is it that bad?”

     Dexter sighed. They’d tried to explain the nature of their needs to Bob before, but the big guy never seemed to truly understand. But even so, he made up for it with his actions. Dexter used to say Bob had a big appetite and a bigger heart, and it really showed.

     Next thing Dexter knew, Bob was seated next to them, with an arm around their waist. Bob wasn’t even that much bigger than Dexter, but he was definitely stronger by a long shot. Dexter soon found themself with their head on the larger man’s shoulder, and felt so tempted to fall asleep right there.

     “There, there. You know I’m here for ya.”

     While Dexter did feel better than they had before, they still felt awful. And clearly Bob could tell, too, because now he was pulling his flustered partner even closer. He shifted position, resting his chin on top of Dexter’s head. “Dex… you know this ain’t gonna fly. You know I’m gonna hafta’ do somethin’ about this.”

     “Like what?” they mumbled bitterly.

     “C’mon… don’tcha remember what happens to grumpy lil’ beans like you?”

     Dexter tried to think. What did Bob do if they were down in the dunkities? Usually he’d spoil them, make their favorite food and whatnot. But for particularly bad days, Bob had this very… different way of handling things…

     Wait.

     Oh no.

     He couldn’t possibly be thinking…?!

     Dexter took a second to look upward, and catching a glimpse of Bob’s smirk confirmed their suspicions. “H-hey, listen… you don’t have to do this…”

     “Oh, but I kinda do.”

     “Y-you’re actually gonna-?!”

     “Ya know the drill. Grumpy folks get the claws.”

     Oh god. Not the claws. Anything but the claws!

     Dexter didn’t even have a chance to retort before their larger partner viciously dug his claws into their ribs, eliciting a high pitched shriek. Then the shriek dissolved into giggles, often interrupted by loud snorting. One by one the claws unclenched, and each found their way to one particular spot on Dexter’s ribs.

     “I know I’m doin’ this to cheer ya up,” Bob noted, “but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t love that laugh of yours.”

     Dexter buried their face into Bob’s sweater, not wanting him to see them blush from the flattery. But they knew it was probably too late - nothing escaped Bob Velseb, whether they were prey or details.

     The claws were going to town, skittering and scribbling all over the flustered exterminator’s ribcage. It had only been a few minutes and they were already going insane. “NOOOO *snort* HAHAHAAH! NOHOT *snort* THE CLAWHAWHAWHAWS!!”

     “Yes, the claws. Don’t tell me ya can’t handle the claws?~” He raised his other hand from Dexter’s back and playfully wiggled the digits over their head. “Well, the left claws are a bit lonely, so they got a new best friend - the right claws! And they’re just dyin’ to meetcha…”

     Dexter dared to look up, and immediately hid again once they realized their mistake. One set of claws was bad enough, and only serious situations called for both pairs.

     “…so make sure ya give them a warm welcome, hey?”

     And both pairs of claws made contact with Dexter’s sides, wiggling and scribbling wherever they could reach - which was almost all of the poor exterminator’s torso, given how long the claws were. All Dexter could do was laugh and squeal their heart out, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

     Eventually Dexter slapped their hand against Bob’s sleeve, which was their designated sign for when it was time to stop. Bob immediately released them, relocating his hands to their back and allowing them to rest. Poor Dexter was practically breathless by this point, and very tired, but also quite euphoric. They’d never admit it aloud, but this was exactly what they’d needed.

     “Ya feel better now?” they heard Bob say to them, very quietly and gently. They couldn’t respond verbally, but instead nodded, and Bob gently squeezed their back in return. “I could’ve wrecked ya for so much longer. Maybe some other time, when you’re feelin’ up to it.”

     Dexter thought that sounded wonderful. They laid their head on Bob’s chest before starting to drift off, cradled by him and finally able to relax.

     “Thank you…”

-END-

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Somethin’ Stupid: Bo Sinclair x male!reader

Warnings: homophobia, angst, nickname usage.

A/N: And to your right you’ll see “ The Hardest Sinclair Confess your Love to” :) I started writing this one before Vincent’s and finished it after ;) go meeee

“So, my house tonight?” You look over at your classmate, he smirks and nods.

“Sure, we’ll meet at the front, gotta drop my keys off to Vincent.”

You’d known Bo from a distance your whole life, always watching and observing him and his twin from afar. Mom and dad always told you to be careful with boys like him. They’d get you into a lot of trouble and up until your sophomore year you agreed with them. Bo always started fights, he was always threatening someone or making sure they regret everything they said and then some.

He was a complete dick to everyone. Even people he deemed his friends.

You always avoided him until he became unavoidable your sophomore year, when he was sat right next to you for being a trouble maker.

You thought you’d been cursed or some shit. Bo was always thought to be dumb, that he made his brother do the work and he sat around waiting for the answers.

Well, that wasn’t a true, not even a bit. Bo had engaged more with you than any of the partners you had in the past. He communicated, joked, did his work. Everything you needed in a partner.

So like Bo and Vincent you two became inseparable.

-

“Nah Sarah’s just always a bitch. Tried to say some shit to my brother last week cause she was walking too slow in the halls and Vincent went to pass her. It’s been how many fuckin’ years? Still don’t know how to walk in the halls.”

You chuckle as you write down what you and Bo are gonna say for your history presentation.

“You should see Amanda and Jack. They walk slow and if they aren’t walking they’re all this.” You jokingly stick your tongue out and fake making out with the air. Bo let’s out a laugh you’re sure all of Ambrose could hear, his laugh is absolutely contagious. Not even a second later you’re laughing too.

“Oh god yeah. Should see them at parties, holy shit you’d think they’re exhibitionists or some shit.” Bo scrunched his nose, you squint and raise a brow.

“What’s an exhibitionist?”

Bo drops his face and you swear your see him blushing. He coughs awkwardly. “You really wanna know?” He asks, you nod.

“If I didn’t wanna know I wouldn’t ask. I mean I’m guessing it’s something to do with sex.”

“Yeah, they like, get off on havin’ sex in public. Fuckin’ each other, fingerin, suckin’ dick. All that.”

You nod your head, officially grasping the word.

“Where the hell do you learn these words Bo?” You slightly joke as go back to your work.

Bo shrugs. “Books.”

You stop again.

“Really?”

You knew Bo was actually extremely smart, he just never seemed like the type to have time for books, especially with him job shadowing at the gas station more it just seemed like he had his head in the hood of a car more than in a book.

“Yes, and stop looking at me like that I find time. Usually when I’m about to go to bed.” Bo shoves you lightly, your pencil runs across your note card and you frown.

“You’re rewriting this one.” You say.

“I absolutely am not, I have to finish writin’ down things on our poster. Your fault anyways for thinkin’ I don’t read.”

Your lips purse and you shove him back. He laughs and you two continue working on your project.

-

Dinner had already passed and now you and Bo were sitting in your room watching a movie on the TV your parents spoiled you with for your birthday.

“You gotta college picked out yet?”

You shrug. Bo’s been on you more than your parents about college. Saying how far you could go and how you’re more than smart enough for it. “Just waitin’ on acceptance letters s’all.”

“Least you got a few you applied to. You better send letters and call when you go.”

You look over at Bo and smirk. “What? Are you gonna miss me or somethin’?”

Bo looks away. “Don’t make me talk about my feelin’s I ain’t good at that.”

You let out a laugh tilting your head against your mattress and shake your head.

“I guess I’ll just have to admit I’ll miss you then. Unless…” You trail off, your heart clenches a little at the thought.

“Unless?” Bo moves his face in your view, looking at your face as it’s lost in thought. You look back at your friend laying on his stomach.

“You wanna come with me? I mean everyone needs a mechanic! We could be roommates and you could work for someone then end up opening your own shop, I can graduate from computer sciences and do what the hell I’ll do with that! Can move to a house too cause God knows if I’ll ever get a wife, maybe you will though you seem like you would and-“

Bo puts his hand on your shoulder, he smiles, but something about it is off and your stomach curdles. You wanna puke up tonight’s supper.

“Let’s slow down a bit yeah? You don’t need me going out there with you, wherever the hell you’ll be- don’t say you will cause it ain’t true. Also I gotta take care of Vincent and Lester, you know my Ma ain’t doin’ too well, especially after Victor past. I would wanna go with you more than anything but I can’t. I’m sure John is gonna give me the mechanic shop too after he retires. Don’t think that I don’t care for you after all this cause I do and everything you said sounds amazing, I just can’t leave and I don’t want you stayin’ either. Your life doesn’t revolve around me and I’m trying not to be selfish and wanting you to stay.”

You frown and look down at your hands, Bo takes his hand off your shoulder and gets up, the bed groaning as he stands. He moves around the bed and to your side, sitting with his knees bent and arms on them, playing with his dad’s ring.

“Bo.”

You two look each other in your eyes, your mouth opens, then closes. You can just say it. You’ll say it and get it over with. You basically already confessed. But he rejected you and he’ll reject you again. He’ll probably make fun of you. Think of you as an idiot and you’ll be embarrassed. He’ll tell someone and it’ll spread around and everyone will look at you in disgust, you’ll be ridiculed and hanged. Your corpse kicked around.

“Blue?”

Your eyes focus back in on him. “I love you.”

Your voice can’t go above a whisper, it’ll falter and break. Bo keeps staring, he won’t stop staring, why won’t he stop. Say something fucker. Anything, so you know your fate.

“Why?” His eyes are glassy. “Why do you say things like this? You’re gonna make it so much damn harder when you leave. Don’t you understand that?”

You look down but Bo is quick to take your face in his hands. “Don’t look away from me Blue. You said it and now you’re gonna deal with it.” Bo leans in, kissing your lips. You kiss back and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m gonna come back for you Bo. I’m gonna call you every day until I come back and your brothers can come with us too and we’ll live in some big house in buttfuck no where and we can be us.”

Tears escape your eyes and Bo quickly tries to wipe them away.

“Sounds like a plan. Then no one has to know.” Bo holds out his pinky

You take your pinky with his.

“No one has to know.”

[maladjust3d]

Hey doc, it’s me Audrey. Just got back from the shop. I found out some strange and interesting things about that plant today- and, I’m not sure if I was hallucinating or not, I think I should go see a doctor but—

I swear, that thing was talking to Seymour…it even slammed him against the wall, I couldn’t do anything because I was too afraid but I made sure to talk to Seymour later that day.

He seemed fine, his glasses were broken, maybe that means what I saw was real— I don’t know. I’m thinking about going to a psychiatrist, maybe even staying out of skidrow for a while, with all of that psychosis going around…

Hey, Audrey.

It’s nice to hear from you. I was getting real worried, since all that stuff is happening down there on Skid Row. I think someone’s ought to give that Seymour kid a medical examination or something.

Maybe you should come uptown sometime and stay a few days with me. My couch is always open, and I’ve been havin’ trouble finding a new receptionist after I fired my old one. She asked for more than one sick day a year! Can you believe that?!

I don’t think a plant could throw someone across the room, doll. Trust me. I think you need some time away from that Skid Row dump and some fresh air. I can pick you up later tonight, and we can cruise around on the bike. I know how much you like ridin’ her.

Stay safe and stay away from that little shop, okay? I promise everything’s gonna be alright.

[cheiyunn]

Kimisute main story [3部 ] Part 5

Chapter 5

Side: EpsilonΦ

[Street]

Reiji: Shu, where do you intend to go?

Shu: Does it matter? It just felt suffocating to be holed up like that

Shu: I’ll take a walk out for a bit and maybe when I get back Haruka will be somewhat better

Reiji: …that's new then

Reiji: If you were really concerned about Haruka, I don’t think it was the best choice to leave those 3 together 

Shu: What? Reiji, aren’t you misconstruing something here?

Shu: It’s not that I’m being considerate to Haruka 

Shu: I couldn’t care less if he got pushed back by Kanata and suffered more for it

Reiji: …then, you’re looking for a sort of dissonance?

Shu: Haruka’s music and voice heavily depend on his mental state right? Then wouldn’t it be better if he just broke, is a thing for thought

Reiji: (...he and I are the same, sort of justification then)

Shu: Plus, I’m quite looking forward to what sort of music Haruka and Tadaomi can muster up

Shu: Maybe at this moment, Tadaomi is also joining in and putting pressure on Haruka too

Reiji: It seems that they’re having trouble with the songwriting process at the moment, so are you intending to just watch it go over?

Shu: Yup. Isn’t it more fun to see someone get overwhelmed and sink down in something they thought they had sturdy footing in, right

Shu: And I think the harder he gets stuck in a slump, the better the resulting product will be

Reiji: I understand

Reiji: …my condolences to Haruka

.

[Practice room]

--[Door opens]--

Tadaomi: Haruka-kun, welcome back

Tadaomi: I was thinking about some things, are you willing to listen?

Haruka: ….what is it

Tadaomi: I regret saying things that made me sound like I was waiting on you earlier

Tadaomi: When I thought about it for a bit, Shu-kun did say that he wanted the both of us to create something

Tadaomi: So, rather than having both of our ideas laid out, how about we think this through together

Tadaomi: That way, there's a chance that better ideas can come to fruition

Haruka: …you.. What are you thinking

Tadaomi: I’m only thinking about what I just said?

Haruka: …………fine

Haruka: I’ll join that

Haruka: I have no idea what you’re thinking about but, it’d be faster this way too…

Tadaomi: Fufu, that’s lovely. Then, from the top again, I look forward to working with you, Haruka-kun

.

--[Door opens]--

Kanata: Sounds like you’re havin’ fun. Whatcha chattin’ about? Songwriting?

Haruka: You have nothing to do with this.

Kanata: Aww don’t say that, aniki–

.

--[Door opens]--

Shu: I’m back. Lets restart practice~

Reiji: Haruka, is everything okay now

Haruka: yeah

Kanata: Boo~~ I got interrupted 

Tadaomi: Shu-kun. We’ll work hard on the songwriting okay

Shu: Why are you repeating yourself. Well, I’ll look forward to it then

.

[Skyfox record office]

Reiji: I would like to apologize for taking up your time despite being so busy

Sosui: No, don’t mind it. Lucky timing though, since there was also something I wished to discuss

Reiji: And that is?

Sosui: I want you to relay this to Shu-kun

Sosui: A little while back, this sort of project information started circulating

Reiji: …a 「Sales ranking game」?

Sosui: GENESIS TRAX, where Iryuu Koga is under,  is a worldwide known music label

Sosui: I’m not sure if what’s written there is pure fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that this project has great benefits attached

Sosui: A bunch of labels have already announce their partnering to it as well

Reiji: So EpsilonΦ is to join this too?

Sosui: Yes. I also indeed to offer this to Fujin RIZING! as well but at the moment they’re a little rocky

Reiji: Fujin RIZING! as well?

Sosui: Hm? What do you mean by 「as well」?

Reiji: …To tell the truth, this is what I wanted to discuss today as well but, we’re also a tad rocky these days

Sosui: Is that so

Reiji: You don’t sound very surprised. Possibly you’ve already noticed Haruka’s slump?

Sosui: I did have a thought. But, I didn’t know the exact reasoning as to why. Do you have any ideas as to why, Reiji-kun?

Reiji: …no, there wasn’t anything that stood out to me in particular

Sosui: I see. If possible, I want both EpsilonΦ and Fujin RIZING! to participate in this promotion project and release a single, so maybe just keep this in mind

Reiji: I understand. I’ll relay that to Shu as well

[strawberry-barista]

⚅ — @unfathomablebeings​ asked: — ⚅

⚅ — 😊~ — ⚅

Dream a Dream Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

Hanekoma opened his eyes and the first thing he became aware of was the warmth beneath him. He was laying on his stomach against another, and it confused him even if it did feel familiar. He hadn't slept this way in years...

"Good morning, tiger."

Hanekoma's throat tightened at the voice, and he opened his eyes to find himself gazing up at his father. The man ran rugged fingers through his hair and smiled down at him.

"Nn... Dad...?" He could barely find his breath as he reached out, ran his own hand along his father's jawline. "What are ya doin' here?"

A gruff laugh emerged from the man, and Hanekoma almost melted to hear it again, after all of these years. As if he weighed nothing at all, those rough hands pulled him up closer, and Hanekoma's father pressed his forehead against his. Hanekoma sighed with relief and joy at feeling the touch of his parent, a comfort in all this time of strife.

"You've been struggling, haven't'cha, tiger?" His father whispered, and he pet Hanekoma gently. "You've been havin' some trouble, eh?"

"Yeah," Hanekoma whispered, and he lowered himself down to nestle into the broad chest. "I've been having a lotta trouble. I've messed up a lot, an' I'm scared, and I dunno what to do anymore. I'm gonna lose everyone I love if I keep this up and I... I just... I just miss you so much, Dad. I miss you an' Mom so much. I don't-- I don't have support like this anymore..."

While he spoke, tears welled into his eyes, and before long Hanekoma was unravelling against the older man. He sobbed into his chest, and his father wrapped powerful arms around him to squeeze him into a tight hug. It felt as if he were being held together by his father, like he might literally come apart into ribbons should he be released. But in an eternity and in no time at all, Hanekoma could feel the sunlight from outside of a nearby window shining over him, and he felt more comfortable than he had in months, in years. He felt happy and safe and loved, so loved.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, rolling away so that he could sit up. His bed, but not his house... “I shouldn’t have...”

“Hey, it’s alright,” his father sat up as well, and he reached out to rub small circles into Hanekoma’s back. “You’ve been going through a real rough patch. You really need to cry sometimes, ya know? An’ you need to breathe. You can’t keep goin’ at this pace, ya know?”

Hanekoma nodded, and he leaned over to rest his head against his father’s shoulder, “I know... I’m gonna go get some help. Things are just... a lot harder than they used’a be. I don’t know how to handle myself anymore. An’ I don’t... I don’t have anyone to lean on. Every time I try I end up hurting them... Just wish I could have you guys back. Someone to lean on when it’s hard.”

“Aaaagh,” his father gave a skeptical groan and leaned his own head against Hanekoma’s. “You don’t need us, tiger. You just gotta learn how to adapt with the new environment. This sorta thing takes some time, but you’ll be alright. Why don’t ya just take a break for now, hm? Mom’s making some breakfast if ya want some.”

“Y-yeah... Yeah. I wanna see Mom... I... I want my mom back...”

He could feel tears springing into his eyes all over again as he got out of the bed and wandered out of the room. As he came out into the hallway he realized it was his childhood home that he was in, and his mother was right where she always was in the kitchen. The sunlight outside seemed overly bright, enough that he couldn’t make out any details through the windows. But he wasn’t concerned about it. He couldn’t be. His mother was standing in the kitchen and the whole house was filled with the smell of her cooking and he was so so happy. He didn’t even question how little sense this all made. He was too at peace to even try. When he took a seat at the table, and his mother greeted him like she always had and pressed a kiss to his temple as she served him a plate of food, he felt so at home.

They ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company, and Hanekoma forgot about all of the things stressing him out. None of that mattered when he was sitting with his family on a sunny morning and laughing at his father’s terrible jokes and listening to his mother speak in a voice he’d thought he’d never hear again. It was beautiful, and as the breakfast was winding down and his father got up to take up the plates, Hanekoma’s mother came to him and hugged him tight, wrapping him in her warmth and kissing his head gently.

“It’s almost time to go,” she whispered. “You have a lot of work to do. But don’t worry. I know you’ll be alright. You have always been my brave little lion, and I know you can take on any challenge presented to you. You always have. Don’t worry so much, Sachan. I know you’ll do just fine.”

“But what if I mess up?”

“You’re adaptable. You’ll be okay.”

Hanekoma opened his mouth to talk again, but found himself opening his eyes to darkness this time. It was cold and he was alone and there was silence all around him. He was jarred for a moment as he tried to figure out what had happened, but it finally dawned on him. He’d been dreaming. Of course he had been. There was no way to really see his parents again. But he wasn’t so torn to wake up without them. He was just glad he got to have such a wonderful dream. And so he leaned back and closed his eyes again, and breathed deeply. He just needed some time. Everything would be okay. He just needed some time.