#and like five dahlia fans. what the fuck.

[starboundsingularities]

god remind me one day to go on like. a proper rant about how people in the fandom treat dahlia vs how they treat kristoph. kristoph is seen as some mastermind who has some deep secret trauma because it’s vaguely hinted at while we KNOW for a fact that dahlia definitely has a fuckton of trauma between what we see in the flashback case and just, her involvement in the fey family in general but especially how she specifically was treated but????? nobody fucking cares??? like sure she’s not justified but neither is kristoph and i’ve still seen people arguing that he is. he’s so babygirlified by the fandom and i fucking hate it. people are tagging him in posts about evil WOMEN. dahlia is RIGHT. THERE. like my fault for expecting people to give basic respect to women but good fucking lird i could not make this kind of shit up if i tried you people are ridiculous

[findingnemosworld]

𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬. ( 𝐇𝐢! 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 )

[ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 ]

( flex bby boy, we love you )

She stares at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her hair was curled to perfection in beautiful waves, soft features enhanced by the makeup that adorned her face, she topped off the look with a casual floral printed dress, tonight she was going to have dinner with Rúben and his parents, Joao and Bernadete seeing as they were in Manchester visiting for a few weeks, she blinks then shakes her head; grabbing the lip stick to readjust it.

" Baby "

Her gaze travels up to see Rúben standing near the doorway from the reflection of the mirror, he was adjusting the buttons of his shirt then gave her a soft look, " Listen, you'll be fine " he assures her, " My parents already know about you, and they're excited to meet you "

" What if I slip up? or say something that's weird " She huffs, " I don't want them to think I'm too much or that I'm only with you for your money "

Rúben sighs, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. " I love you " he murmurs. " You will be fine, and they'll see just how happy you make me, and besides " he smirks, " I love spending my money to spoil you because seeing you dressed in all those dresses, all those nighties and those damn delicious lingerie sets " he whispers before gently tugging her ear with his teeth. " It's very, very fucking hot "

" Rúben " She gasps, swatting his arm as he chuckled, before finally getting a good look at her when she stood up, " so? "

" Baby, I'm starting to think we should postpone the dinner cause right now " Rúben drawls, wrapping his arms around her waist to tug her closer. " I'm hungry for something else entirely, something far delicious than any food "

Her face grows red, " We're going to be late, so ... if we go through this dinner properly " she said with a seemingly faux innocent smile that had a hint of a deviousness. " Maybe we can try that thing you were telling me about yesterday "

A wicked grin appears across his lips, " You serious? "

" Behave during dinner and ... " She leans closer to his ear, " I'll sit on your face like you always wanted "

Rúben beams, " You got it baby "

His parents were as sweet as he had told her about them, a truly humble and loving couple which affirmed to her just how much Rúben takes after them, Bernadete asks her, " So Dahlia, what do you do for a living? "

She takes a sip of her water glass and smiles, " I am a paediatric doctor, I work with kids "

Joao nods impressively before noting, " For how long? "

" Five years and a half, before that I've completed my internship and residency in America " She responds.

" And how did you meet our Rúben? " Bernadete smiles, " I can't tell you how happy I was when he told us he found someone "

She beams at the remark before responding, " It's quite funny " she recalls that day like it was yesterday, " The kids I work with were massive Manchester City fans, so one day the hospital had contacted the team to make a visit and bring a smile to their faces, that day I decided to dress up as a clown to cheer them up as well, and erm ... " she laughs.

" She literally fell into my arms " Rúben grins, " Best day of my life "

" He helped me up, made sure the kids were thoroughly entertained all for him to come the next week alone with gifts and he not so subtly asked for my number, and the rest is history " She said.

" That's so sweet, you know he never stopped talking about you whenever he calls me " Bernadete cooed, " It's so cute just how much he would boast about you "

" He did " She smiles looking at Rúben who was blushing.

" You really have made him happy and we are very thankful for that " Bernadete nods with a soft smile.

Rúben takes her hand, " Mãe, I'm the one who's happy "

Suffice to say that dinner went very well, his parents promised to pay them a visit sometimes; then they were on their way home, and when they got home, they undressed, showered and got ready for bed - Rúben was quick to pull her onto his lap and smirk, " I believe you owe me something "

She giggles and pressed a soft kiss to his lip, " I do, you're right "

" Come on, we have a long night ahead of us "

[fallingthruspace]

Started a post regarding my thoughts about the season 2 premiere of Carnival Row, but it was getting way too long. So here’s the cliff notes version

🚨SPOILERS AHEAD🚨

- I’m really loving the variety in types of Faun that they’re introducing this season. So far my favorite is the man running the street fighting ring who looks like a bull

- That fae disease is fucking BRUTAL and I love the makeup and effects they did to show it. Watching Oona try to fly was heartbreaking

- Vignette and Philo are cute as always but seriously need some sort of relationship counseling. Or at least better communication skills

- Seeing Imogen and Agreus being happy for five whole minutes before shit hit the fan was nice. Also the fact that they apparently need to be touching/kissing 90% of the time is so sweet. Their love language is physical touch and we love to see it

- Nice to see that Dombey continues to be an insufferable piece of shit. I know he’s just there to be the racist asshole that everyone hates and I hope this seasons monster eats his face

- Speaking of insufferable pieces of shit: Ezra Spurnrose. I knew he’d make up some story about Agreus “kidnapping” Imogen to avoid a scandal or some shit. Still pissed me off

- And speaking of Ezra, that nightmare Imogen had about him was freaky as FUCK. Enough that it made me wonder if there was a reason, other than being with Agreus, that Imogen wanted to run away from Ezra specifically. (NOTE: no, I don’t think he touched her or anything like that, but he is a creep and maybe he did say or do something that had Imogen picking up on his creepy vibes)

- Please, for the love of god, let Tourmaline get over Vignette. Vignette is clearly choosing Philo over her again and again, Tourmaline deserves better

- I was wondering if Tourmaline would be the next Haruspex since a few of the trailers showed her eyes glowing blue just like Aoife’s were in The Gloaming. Guess I was kind of right

- i simultaneously love and hate Sophie Longerbane lol

- interested to see how Agreus knows that faun Imogen was talking to in the kitchen (Leonora? I can’t remember how to spell her name)

- I fucking KNEW that the Ravens would burst into the room before Philo could make his big announcement. It’s waaay too early in the season to spill that tea

- I did not expect Dahlia and that other Fae to be killed, seeing their heads nailed to the wall genuinely took me by surprise

- Does anyone know what the critch who look like a tall, upright version of Gollum from LOTR are? I’ve rewatched s1 multiple times and don’t remember them being mentioned.

- New Dawn feels like a thinly veiled Communism metaphor

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter 3: Rejection

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, talks of Dahlia dying, mentions of stabbing and scarring, Mickey being an asshole, smut, p in v, jealousy, angst

Chapter 3! It isn’t as long as I initially planned but it just ended at the perfect spot I didn’t feel the need to drag it out any further. God I love this series so much it’s ridiculous but I’m really going to be putting poor Dahlia through it. Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading this once again! My fucking star!

God, what the fuck was wrong with me?

I stood a foot or so away from the door, many people chatting and drinking away cheerfully around me in a haze of noise and blurred figures as I remained hesitating. How long have I been here? A minute? Five minutes? An hour? Time seemed to have no meaning as I listened to the bouncing music coming from inside Sid and Hallie’s dorm room, the loud laughter and shouting.

It was all uncomfortably familiar.

Suddenly the door swung open and out stumbled Hallie, evidently already plastered, who grinned eagerly when she saw me.

Hands out she exclaims with a smile, “Dahlia! You came! Randy owes me twenty bucks.”

I was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace by Hallie the minute I walked into her dorm room, unable to stop my body from automatically tensing defensively. I consciously knew she wouldn’t hurt me, but my subconscious was immediately put in self preservation mode. Hallie seemed too drunk to notice as she pulled back, an even bigger smile on her face.

“Come in, have a drink!” Hallie finally released me after what felt like an eternity and I smiled half-heartedly at her. I definitely needed a drink if I was going to get through tonight.

I hadn’t been to a party since Stu’s in Woodsbro the night everything changed. In that moment glancing at all the unfamiliar faces I felt painfully aware of that fact, half expecting some jackass in a Ghostface costume to leap out at me no matter how ridiculous that may sound.

Hallie had wandered off to greet more guests, leaving me alone to make a beeline toward the large table full of drinks, eyes scanning the array of booze for whichever would get me drunk the fastest.

“Look who actually turned up.”

I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I hadn’t even been here two minutes and he’d already found me. I refused to turn and look at him, lifting a red solo cup from the stack and tapping the tops of the bottles for something that sounded at least appetising.

“May I?” His voice floods my ears and I suppress the urge to sigh. This time I did look up at him with a slightly raised brow. “You the connoisseur of cheap booze?”

Mickey laughed a little, shaking his head at me before replying, “I just have an idea of what people like. See,” My eyes followed his finger that now pointed over to Randy, who was sitting chatting to a group of people with his drink gripped in one hand as he waved his other hand around in manic gestures clearly in a deep discussion, “I made Randy a Gimlet.”

“What the fucks a Gimlet?” I muttered, toying with the cup in my hands.

Mickey laughed again, dropping his hand and looking back at me before explaining, “Simple syrup, lime juice and gin shaken over ice. He can’t handle his booze but likes to make it look like he can so it’s pretty perfect for him. Sidney-“ His eyes flickered over to where Sid was standing in the corner with Derek, laughing at something he said, “- Whiskey sour, of course. She’s complex.” I nodded my head, somehow that made perfect sense for her.

“Okay, what about Hallie?” I asked, squinting my eyes to try and make out what she had in her hand as she stood chatting to a few girls. I loosely registered the smell of rum and lime on her breath before her unwelcome embrace.

He made a move of his hand towards her direction as he said, “Hal? I made her an AMF.”

Eyebrows pinched together as I questioned him curiously, “AMF?”

“Adios Motherfucker.” He smiled slightly as he leaned closer.

I couldn’t help but smile back. That was somehow absolutely perfect for her even without context.

“And Derek?” I asked, nodding over in his direction.

“Are you kidding? Beer. He’s a frat bro, you think he’s gonna let me make him a fucking cocktail?” Mickey rolled his eyes, lifting his drink to his lips. It was hard to look away as he took a sip, his tongue darting out and licking the leftover liquid from his lips. I couldn’t help but ask, “And you? What have you got?”

He offered his drink to me and I hesitated for a moment. A soft laugh before he said flatly, “I haven’t got the fucking herp, Dahl.”

I felt my cheeks heat up at his nickname, quickly taking his drink so I could hide my face in it only to be taken by surprise at the overwhelming but delicious taste and aroma of mint, “A Mojito?”

“You look surprised. What, a man can’t enjoy a cocktail?” His hand rose to his chest in mock offence and I couldn’t help but smile again, handing him his cup back.

“You think you can make me one then?” I asked curiously before pressing on further, “You hardly know me.”

He sounded confident as he asserted, “I’m intuitive, I’m sure I can work out what you like even with our limited interaction. Unless of course you want me to get to know you better first?”

Was he flirting with me?

I looked at him blankly for a second before diverting my eyes down. He didn’t miss a beat, immediately changing the subject back to the drink, “You know what a Paloma is?” As he spoke, he took the cup from my hands, his warm fingers touching mine for just a second making my hand jolt back, an action he seemingly chose to ignore, “Tequila, lime juice, grapefruit soda,” With every ingredient he listened he free poured them into the cup until the drink was prepared, handing it to me with a flourish, “Can't exactly salt the rim but here.”

I took the drink from his hand, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a small sip, only to be surprised at how delicious it was.

“Wow.” I mumbled, taking a larger sip.

“Easy,” He chuckled, moving to make himself another drink, “I’m already gonna have to end up carrying Randy to bed. I don't want to have to carry you too.”

I paused for a second before forcing myself to look up at him and meet his eyes, asking with sudden bold curiosity, “What did you mean earlier?”

He looked genuinely surprised at my question, his hands pausing over the bottles as he glanced at me before asking, “What?“

I explained, “Earlier today, you said I’m not going to be able to stay away from you. What did you mean?”

He was quiet for a moment, returning to assemble his drink before walking to the free couch next to the table, raising his hand to the side for me to sit beside him to which I did so.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, just that we’re in the same social circle. I admit to being an ass when we first met, so I do apologise for that. It was just… interesting to meet you.”

I didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the word “Interesting.” It made me pause, eyeing him suspiciously. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes set into the corner of the room as though I wasn’t even there. “What do you mean interesting?”

He blinked, drink rising up to his lips again as I waited impatiently for his reply only to wish I never asked, “Not everyday I meet someone like you.” He responded simply with a subtle curve of his lips.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Mickey leaned back on the couch, hand resting on his knee as he turned his head to look at me, eyes doing that stupid once over on me that I was growing to hate. Then he said it. “Someone who's supposed to be dead.”

My mouth fell open with a plop at how candidly he said it, staring at him in disbelief. Just when I thought he could be sweet.

“I’m sorry, supposed to be dead? The fact I fucking died is interesting to you?“ I snapped, the alcohol making me bolder than I usually would be.

Or was it the alcohol? Or was it yet again Mickey somehow awakening the parts of me I thought would never see the light of day again? The anger bubbling in my stomach was distantly familiar and honestly, it felt really fucking good.

Mickey groaned, head falling back against the back of the couch. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. Fucking hell you’re so sensitive Dahl. Bit of a lightweight, no?”

“Dahlia.” I wanted to shout at him, not appreciating the new nickname he seemed to have branded me with.

“Jesus, fine. Dahlia.” He said my name dripping with sarcasm before he quickly finished his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing, “You’ve gotta stop being so damn oversensitive about shit. Your little broken bird act is kind of getting old to be honest.”

“Oh God, Mickey! I’m so sorry that I’m not living up to your fucking expectations. What do you want from me? Your fascination with the fact I died is really fucking creepy.” I couldn’t help but spit the words out at him. I was only slightly aware that people were beginning to look at us but for once, I didn’t care. I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me and fuck, it was working.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, a real laugh, raising his palms up, “You walk around campus like a ghost, you hardly speak to anybody except Sid and Randy, why?”

What was the use in trying to argue with this guy? I sighed, slouching back on the couch and closing my eyes, anger lessening, something more akin to sadness overtakes while I answered him, “They’re the only ones who understand.” I said quietly.

I felt him move to sit back next to me, feeling his eyes on my face although I refused to open them. He stayed quiet for once, waiting for me to continue.

“I don’t like you but I’ll be honest with you-“ I heard him let out a stifled laugh before I continued, “- I’m assuming you know Billy Loomis was Sidney’s boyfriend. Well, it’s lesser known who his accomplice was to me. We don’t share a last name and hell, we look absolutely nothing alike, but Stu Macher was my cousin. I loved him like a brother so when he just stood by and watched that stupid asshole drive a knife into my stomach-“ My fingers automatically touched the healed over wound over the material of my shirt and I winced, not in pain but at the memory before I continued, “- And I died, I’m pretty sure the part where I can… Feel went with me.”

Mickey was silent as he intently listened to me speak before I felt his hand clasp over mine that was still tracing my scar through my shirt, making my eyes snap open and look at him as I asked him in an undeniably self conscious tone, “What?”

“Nothing, I just think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since I’ve known you.”

His face was close to mine, slightly tilted back as his head rested on the cushions behind him and mine did the same.

Now this feeling was new.

I saw his eyes drop to my lips for a brief moment before looking back into mine. Did I want this? Did I want him?

My mind started to race and my heart began to thud unsteadily in my chest as I watched his tongue swipe his bottom lip as he leaned forward. I could feel the pulse in my ears as I froze in place, unable to make my body move.

Fight or flight, fight or flight?

In a second, I made a decision.

I shot to my feet, dropping my empty cup to the floor and stumbling back a little, my eyes wide and his shown surprise. For the first time I saw a flash of an emotion that wasn’t sarcastic or pissed but I couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

“Dahlia?” He asked, looking slightly concerned.

“You can’t just do that!” I hissed, hands shaking a little as my eyes flickered around my surroundings. Thank God, nobody was looking.

He leaned forward, his posture significantly less relaxed as he questioned, “Jesus, do what?”

You rushed out, “Lean forward and try to… Kiss me like that!”

Mickey looked at me blankly for a moment before his head fell back and he let out a loud, obnoxious laugh before managing to get out, “Are you fucking kidding me? You thought I was trying to kiss you? We were just having a conversation, Dahlia. How self involved are you?”

Of course, I know now Mickey isn’t used to not getting what he wants. He had grown accustomed to girls tripping over themselves to fuck him and the fact I didn’t, the fact I went out of my way to get away from him? He hates it. I could tell in that moment with the way he laughed but his eyes were blazing that he had an edge to him. I suppose that should’ve been one of many red flags.

Instead I scoffed at him, grabbing a random bottle of booze from the table before stalking off to go drink in peace.

I settled down on a chair in what I guess was supposed to be the communal living room, crossing my legs and eagerly knocking back the rum in my hand straight from the bottle.

“Jesus, Dahlia.”

I glanced up and saw a tipsy Randy flop down beside me, his drink spilling over the side of his cup as he did so but he didn’t seem to notice, eyes on me as he spoke, “Going hard, huh? What’s up?”

“Mickey.” I muttered simply.

“Ah.” Randy was quiet for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully.

Randy and I had what you would call and sandbox friendship. We met in kindergarten when he’d attempted to snatch a toy from my hand and I’d smacked him over the head with it in retaliation. I can’t really remember what led to it, but after that we became inseparable. We got “married” at recess with Sid and Tatum officiating but it was just childish fun and games. I of course loved him, but it was never romantic in any way.

During my time in the hospital, he visited every single day. During this time I wasn’t talking much so we just watched movies until visiting hours were up, he’d go home and then come back the next day to do it all over again. Never horror. He knew me well enough to know that after everything with Billy and Stu, for me at least real life was scary enough.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” Randy asked, rolling his head to look at me, he said in a more serious tone, “Ignore him, okay? Mickey can be an ass.”

“Oh, I know.” I muttered, bringing the bottle to my lips once more, “Such a fucking ass.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Randy’s eyebrows shoot up and I sighed, “What?”

He shrugged, “Nothing. It’s just I haven’t heard you speak with venom like that in… Fuck, forever. It’s disconcerting.”

I looked at Randy, a deep frown on my face as I asked, “What do you mean?”

“No, I don’t mean anything by it. I don’t know what Mickey did or said but I’ve gotta say, he really brings the fire out in you, you know?”

I dropped my eyes to the bottle in my hand, fingernails tapping lightly on the glass. I knew Randy was right. Whenever I was around Mickey he just revived me somehow. As annoying and infuriatingly difficult he was, there was no way I could dispute that fact.

In the space of a month I’d felt more irritation and fire than I’d probably felt in my entire life. Honestly, I never thought I’d feel anything again.

What was it about him?

I lifted my head as I heard footsteps approaching Randy and I and looked up to see Sidney hastily walking over to us.

“Dahlia, Mickey’s looking for you. He’s in my room, said he wanted to find you to apologise or something?” She shrugged a little, hand waving down the hall and toward hers and Hallie’s shared room.

I frowned, my grip on the bottle tightening which Randy seemed to notice as he asked, “You want me to come with?”

“No, no.” I mumbled, starting to stand up before the room spun a little. I blinked, feeling myself fall back on the couch and Randy quickly gripped my arm with a small, nervous laugh. “How much of that have you had?”

I shook my head as I mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Sidney looked at me, soulful brown eyes doubtful. “We all know you’re a lightweight Dahlia. Maybe Randy and I should take you back to your dorm.”

“I’m okay, honest.” In truth, I really just wanted to hear Mickey apologise to me. Who knew he was capable? “What number is your dorm?”

Sidney told me her dorm room number and I felt both her and Randy watching me cautiously as I slowly walked away, trying my best to walk in a straight line. Fuck, I really was a lightweight. Was it down to Mickey’s strong ass cocktail or the straight rum? Probably the straight rum.

My hands both rested on the walls as I walked down the corridor, eyes blurring as I blinked unseeingly at the number of the doors until I found Sidney’s.

I heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the door and infringed a little, hand hesitating on the door knob. Even hammered, something felt off. I didn’t know Mickey that well, but I did know he wasn’t one to apologise.

Fuck it.

I turned the door handle and pushed the door open, eyes widening and mouth falling open and the sight before me.

A blonde girl was lying face down, ass up on what I assumed to be Sidney’s bed without a stitch of clothing on her. She was gasping and moaning into the mattress beneath her, and who else would be behind her? Mickey.

He had her arms behind her back, one of his hands circling her wrists and the other gripping her hip, pulling her back as he thrusted into her. His head was back, groaning softly before it fell forward and he released her wrists, moving his hand up her back until it found her hair and twisting it around his fist, yanking it back so she was sat up, her head leaning on his shoulder as she gasped out, “Oh my fucking God Mickey, please don’t stop!“ with her eyes screwed up tight and her chest heaving. I saw her face and for some reason it seemed to bother me to see how attractive the girl was.

His eyes opened and met mine from over her shoulder, quickly roaming over my stunned form before he smiled.

He fucking smiled, a sick and almost depraved smile directly at me, a slight upturn of his shoulders before he mouthed, “Fuck you” to me as he pushed the writhing, moaning girl down on her stomach. His fingers kneeding the soft flesh of her ass as he continued fucking her, his eyes now never leaving mine as I remained frozen at the door.

Walk away, walk away! Why the fuck are you stood watching this shit?

The voice in my head was screaming at me until she was finally loud enough for me to listen. I turned on my heel, quickly slamming the door behind me.

What the fuck?

Why would he tell Sid he wanted to apologise to me if he was busy fucking some slut in her bed? Why would he want me to see that?

I was clearly drunk because I could feel tears burning my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if they were out of anger or something else. I shook out my head, hands coming up to tap on my cheeks lightly in an attempt to snap myself out of it as I heard Mickey let out another loud laugh and the girl let out an even louder cry of what I could only assume to be pleasure.

Guess this is how he acts when he gets rejected.

What a fucking asshole.

Chapter Four HERE

[creativeashproductions]

Healed by the Music // Luke Patterson

Summary: After the fallout of reckless behaviour and forced to return back home the reader had rediscovered her love for music. Close with her family once more her band Graveyard Petals receives an offer that could turn around the band’s tarnished reputation. The only issue is not wanting to hurt those close by leaving.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of death, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

A/N: The second and final part to a lovely little series I had grown to love, the first part is Drowning From the Past. I came up with the band name so if you want to use it send an ask and we talk about it. This is set after the first season and Ray can now see them after the whole Golden glow thing.

Part One - Drowning in the Past

Masterlist

In the months you retreated back to Los Feliz the band had grown exponentially bringing in more revenue with merch. The social media followers grew as well with the hope of a new photo posted of you and the band. The most recent teased new music coming.

Speaking of music, it seemed to pour out of your body into two notebooks unknown to both your sister and her band—the band of ghosts that become massive fans of Graveyard Petals when Julie played full-length debut album Dahlia. Luke had even collaborated on a song for your band; his name the first of writing credits.

Now, seven months after the shameful return the band had gotten the offer of a lifetime to open for 5 Seconds of Summer on a world tour. The issue came with talking with Julie, and the guys gave you had shown your father you had healed.

"Hey, what's been up with you lately?" Julie asked, seating herself in the swing right beside you. Her hair pulled away from her youthful face.

Whenever you looked at Julie, you saw Mom with the gorgeous hair and gleeful smile that brightened a room. Even on your mom's death bed, the room flared with that same smile in every picture in albums and on the walls. Sometimes you swore the piano in the studio bath in the warm light brought by the one person that taught you and Julie to play.

"I've been thinking." You simply spoke eyes focused on the park that had been a massive part of your life.

Every year Rose and Ray Molina had brought their three children to the very park the two had met years before. Rose would bring flowers to a specific bench, and every time you asked why she had the same answer.

Little Y/N was a precocious child inquisitive of the world around her held at an arms life by her parents. Skilled at singing and natural affinity for music it worried Rose, in her eldest child she recognized something. The intense passion and talent that a particular guitarist had once displayed on a stage that would have changed everything.

"It a place of absolute joy and acceptance. Four legends came together in front of that very bench."

Rose would never know about the place had Bobby not subconsciously led her there for the first time mere hours after the devastating loss. He had collapsed to his knees, pleading for his best friends, his brothers to return. In broken sobs, he had told Rose that this park, this bench was the first place Sunset Curve played. Band fresh and still unnamed they had gotten confident enough to set up near the bench to start building a following.

Now it was eight years after the first visit with Bobby who started going by Trevor a year after the loss. The fresh-faced boy that had flirted with Rose had changed, and at that time, Rose wasn't sure it was a good or bad thing.

"It was the guys Mom left the flowers for." Julie started following your eyesight to the bench that had a fresh bouquet. A single dahlia in the middle of the flowers for your mother.

"Yeah." You softly spoke, turning to focus on the girl that had healed through music. Seeing how grownup Julie had become hurt your heart. Julie wasn't a child anymore, and you wished she never went through what you did for months.

The two Molina girls sat in comfortable silence with minds thinking the most opposite things possible.

"5 Seconds of Summer is going on tour. We should try and score some tickets when they come to LA." Julie spoke, raising one leg to rest her arm on it. The high waisted light washed jeans with paintings on them.

Your heart clenched at her excitement for a band you both adored for years.

"I know. 5SOS gave Lucy an offer for Graveyard Petals to open for them worldwide. The others are down to join, but if I'm not ready, we won't." You avoided the brown eyes burning your cheek for a second.

Julie's warm hand clasped yours in hers to jog to your car you had bought with your first paycheque. Unable to figure out her state on the possible tour, you quietly drove back home with no sound other than breathing.

"Hey!" Luke beamed as his two favourite girls, came wandering into the studio with pensive expressions and stooped shoulders.

Alex picked up on their moods almost instantly, "Are you okay?"

Your mouth opened before the loud yell of Flynn cut off your opportunity to respond and a slap smack to the back of your head. The sharp cry of pain stumbled from your chapped lips and Flynn's frustration rolling off her form.

"Flynn!" You sharply called rubbing the stinging spot with a glare outmatched by Flynn's fire. The look unlike you had ever seen on the girl with a sharp sense of fashion and unapologetic personality.

"You got asked by 5 Seconds of Summer to tour the world as an opening act!" Flynn elaborated at your confused expression, "Jules texted me. You need to do this! The amount of questions of if GP will return is outrageous! In the last two days, the band's Instagram got five thousand new followers."

The ghostly trio stayed silent as Flynn reprimanded her best friend's older sister with crazy talent. Flynn was your self appointed biggest fan with buying the first album at the store to demanding to wear newly designed merch before the drop.

"I'm enjoying being at home. I'm on good terms with Julie and Carlos, Dad doesn't look like he's gonna drop dead in disappointment when he sees me." You shrugged focusing on the discoloured mark on the ground.

"It's okay to be scared." Alex supplied smiling as Flynn nodded her thanks as the tall drummer stepped in.

After escaping the Hollywood Ghost Club (HGC), a handful of people gained the ability to see them, including Flynn. It was rather refreshing for the girl to finally interact with the guys with Julie being the middle man.

"I'm not-"You cut yourself off at the disbelief on Julie's face with her arms crossed just as your mother had done, "I nearly lost myself in the bottom of a bottle. I fucked up my relationships and tarnished both mine and the band's reputation."

Luke's warm hand came down on your shoulder in the act of support, the touch a new factor to the ghost. Your hand came to rest on his with a smile of gratitude cast to the dead boy.

"You have healthy coping mechanisms to fall back on. You'll have us to visit with the poofing ability. If you stumble, we will be here for you." Reggie informed you with his toothy grin and kind eyes.

The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, feeling the wound close up, leaving a scar that had blistered and reopened since last year. The cheers enveloped you like their arms as you texted Lucy and the band your decision.

Dublin, Ireland 2021

"Hello, Dublin!" Your voice amplified in the large stadium of fans cheering for your band—the thud of Iris on her drum kit.

James idly stroking the strings on his dark green teal guitar your band had pitched in as a gift to him. On the opposite side of the stage was Sawyer with their custom-made gorgeous marble green and white colour.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself so far! It is our last song before the real act comes out!" You exclaimed to the boisterous crowd.

Just barely in the wing of the stage waited the band that had quickly become older brothers to you. A band that had given you a chance after the madness of your downward spiral.

"This song came out in 2018 and quickly became one of my favourites. It wouldn't be right to sing it without some friends." You continued as the guys walked onto the stage, "Without further adieu, this is Lie to Me by 5 Seconds of Summer!"

Luke Hemmings along with Calum, Ashton, and Michael ran to join your band as Iris started a sick beat. Calum and Michael already joining Sawyer and James in absolute perfect sync leaving Ashton to rock out by Iris. Hemmings, to not confuse him with Luke Patterson, came to stand next to you with a guitar.

[Verse 1: Hemmings]

I saw you looking brand new overnight

And I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice

You look happy, oh, mmm

You look happy, oh

Hemmings angled his body to face you but not cut off the fans behind him, creating the vivid story you had done each rehearsal. The blue clashing your own eye colour holding your personalized sparkly emerald green mic.

[Pre Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

Flashing back to New York City

Change your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

Only adding backing vocals as Hemmings retreated to jam out with Calum leaving you to jump around the stage. Landing next to Sawyer they beamed with the loud stadium heard even through the in-ear monitors.

[Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

And now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While I'm cleaning up your mess

I know he's taking off your dress

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Raising the mic to your lips, you came into your cue returning to the middle of the stage with Hemmings.

"Give it up for Y/N!" Ashton yelled into Iris' personal microphone.

[Verse 2: You]

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me (Ah)

I know that you've been holding on to someone else

And now I can't sleep (Ah)

I ain't happy, oh

I ain't too happy, oh

[Pre Chorus: You]

Flashing back to New York City

I was done, but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

The stage was charged with the chemistry the two lead singers of their respective bands all sharing grins. The cheers growing as Hemmings came closer to share the green microphone, the tech guys skillfully turning Hemmings off; no feedback sounding.

[Chorus: Hemmings & You]

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The Australian singer stepped closer to hug you quickly before finding his way to your bandmates too. The crowd all having their phones out in which the hugs would be made into edits, and the shipping would intensify.

"Dublin! You have been incredible to play for. Enjoy the rest of the concert and rock out because I will be doing so backstage." Your voice echoed over the fans with a beaming grin feeling comfortable on stage again.

"This is Easier!" Hemmings shouted as the rest of his band commenced their part of the concert just as they had the last few months.

Watching the guys perform with your own band with you was incredibly bittersweet after touring worldwide for months. The media had eaten up the sudden reappearance of the band with positive publicity increasing the popularity.

"I love this song," Sawyer spoke with a twinkle in their eyes tapping their foot to the beat. James was just barely moving his head to beat while Iris was jumping around uncaring of the people around.

"You love it because we got to collaborate on the song!" James exclaimed, tapping his hip on her thigh. Iris' 5'11 form towered over James' 5'7 height but that never caused issues with them.

James's black hair gleamed blue in the strobe lights tinting his pale complexion as well. Sawyer's hair dyed bright red pairing well with their tawny skin colour with their mocha brown irises. Iris had changed over the break abandoning her past style for a more laidback skater style.

"I'm gonna head to the bus. Grab a shower and change." You informed the band as you started retreating to where the bus was parked.

"See you soon!" Sawyer yelled with their attention halfway back on the band of guys that had given you all a second chance.

Walking down the hall with employees milling around, you barely acknowledged them other than a smile. The performing had taken a lot out of you after a fitful sleep. Carl, your band's security detail and current bouncer to the backdoor, nodded at you.

Carl's colleague would be stationed at the bus as per usual with your routine of catching one song and then leaving. Bea's hardened gaze relentless on scouring the area with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hey, Bea." You spoke earning a grunt in response from the jaded security detail hired after adjusting back to civilian life.

You didn't have the entire story other than Bea had been in the military, but due to an injury had been medically discharged. Your manager Lucy had been the one to hire her as per the new policy of having two people of different genders on detail.

The bus was quiet as you entered flinching at the sight of your father sitting on the couch with Julie and Carlos beside him. Your mouth gaped at seeing your family after months of only FaceTime and calls.

"Oh my gosh!" You yelled lunging to hug your siblings with wide eyes matching.

Carlos had definitely grown at least two inches since you last saw him, and Julie's hair was pulled back in an intricate style. Her outfit screaming Flynn's advice but her ring was on show that matched your own.

"Surprise!" Ray exclaimed to his eldest child with pride written clear on his face, "I missed you, Mija."

"So, did I!" The cheerful voice of Luke interjected as the three boys of Julie and the Phantoms made their appearance.

Standing further back in a band shirt with Graveyard Petals was Alex's boyfriend Willie with a shy expression. He still felt incredibly guilty of delivering the boys straight into Caleb's hand and often voiced his feelings of not feeling he deserved to be friends.

"Hey, Willie. I like your shirt!" You told the tall skater who sent a shy smile.

"Still weird," Ray muttered having walked in on Reggie towel drying his hair the month before you left for tour.

It had been a very confusing and emotional time for Ray and Carlos to adapt to the new information. After Julie saved the boys and that weird golden glow happened, they had been able to make themselves visible; just no poofing in the vicinity of Ray after he nearly fainted that one time. The details hadn't been worked out yet, but Caleb was out of the picture.

"Did you catch the concert?" You questioned the group tugging on the damp t-shirt you had worn on stage. The fabric was drying after being drenched in the sweat after spending an hour under hot lights and continuous movement on stage.

"We stayed for the one last night. We stayed for your set tonight before we got Bea-"

"-she's terrified by the way," Alex interjected with a grimace on his face at the stoic young woman. The glare at focusing on her scars had truly scared the anxious drummer.

"-to let us on the bus. We wanted to surprise you and congratulate your success." Luke informed the group, "You're insanely talented by the way."

His left hand coming to intertwine with your right hand just as it had before you departed for the world tour. You had grown incredibly close to the guitarist firstly as best friends before developing into a relationship.

"We did explore Dublin for the morning. I'll forever be in Lucy's debt for sending the tickets for us." Ray happily sighed, thinking of the lovely woman that had helped Ray guide his daughter back to herself.

"I'll just hit the shower quick." You swiftly jogged to the back of the tour bus where the shower was situated near the five came rooms. The entire band each had one room and a spare for the driver.

Los Angeles, 2021

Your hair pulled away from your face you sat beside a willow tree in contemplative silence with only your guitar and notebook. You knew that in a few seconds Luke would appear for another writing session.

"I love you." Luke breathlessly spoke as he ran up to you with a great big smile.

The awe at his words blinding your thoughts from the hope you had been feeling for the last week. Luke's hazel eyes glittering in the sun and the smile bubbled onto his face.

"I love you too." The words slipped quickly off the tip of your tongue as the guitarist tugged your form into his body. Supple lips quivering on the skin of warm neck all Luke felt was gratitude.

Luke leant back to brush his calloused fingers on your cheek, "Julie got a call. Someone little birdie sent in a demo to a label."

"I wonder who that happened to be." Your smirk revealing just precisely who had sneakily grabbed the freshly recorded demo.

Lucy had always had an interest in Julie's talent in music but tabled in during the period that Rose died. The grief stealing Julie's voice and leaving behind stage fright hadn't been something Lucy would chance. The manager had always hoped Julie's voice would return.

"You gave Lucy the demo, and she passed in on to the Red Bedroom Records!" Luke was quick to tug you into his arms with a huge grin, "Julie and the Phantoms are getting signed! The owner is personally flying over on Monday to go over the contract and sign it!"

Your words muffled by his chest, "Lucy informed me about that, and she offered to manage you as well."

"Lucy is the best. She gonna mentor and give Flynn an internship to still work with the band. Thank you so much, baby." Luke whispered against the warm skin of your forehead.

"I just decided to speed up the process. Can I tell you something?" At Luke's nod, you continued, "I'm thinking in a few years to open a label of my own. I was hoping you guys and Julie would be interested in doing that with me?"

"I am so down to do that. We're gonna hire an investigator to make sure what Trevor did isn't able to happen at our label." Luke was already passionately thinking of what the hypothetical future label.

"That's perfect!" You beamed, "We could give a workshop to aid songwriting too! I thought that we could name it A Rosie Sunset. My dad called my mom Rosie most of my life and Sunset for your first band."

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did a minute ago. You proved me wrong." Luke breathless laughed before humming when your lips made contact with your own.

The warmth that had been missing the year after you mom passed away had returned, and sometimes you swore the sun shone down on you. You had no doubts it was your mom's way in heaven to hug her children. You and Julie had come to the conclusion that your mom had sent the boys into your lives.

Rose Molina, even in death, did her best to make her children happy. The three remaining members of Sunset Curve the absolute best part of her two daughters lives.

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[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 81 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Sutan and Violet skipped out on their party plans, Bianca’s friends deeply disapproved of her new relationship, Adore struggled to get over Pearl, and Alaska harbored a secret unrequited crush on her best friend Jinkx.

This Chapter: New Year’s Eve continues, full of love and betrayal.

***

“Well? What do you think?” Bianca asked, when Courtney stepped away to greet Alaska. Her voice was low, and she was trying extremely hard to appear casual, but Jinkx could see the anxiousness in her eyes.

Jinkx grinned. It wasn’t very often that she had any kind of leg up on Bianca Del Rio, and she was prepared to milk it.

“Hmmm…”

“Come on!”

“I think she’s incredible. Gorgeous, charming, and she clearly has good taste-” Jinkx batted her lashes, framing her face with her hand, in an obvious reference to Courtney gushing all over her about what a big fan she was. Then, she gave Bianca a once-over. “Well, good taste about some things.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bianca grumbled, bumping Jinkx with her hip, suddenly looking more like herself than she had all night.

Jinkx laughed, feeling quite pleased with herself. The truth was, Courtney was everything she’d been expecting, based on what Alaska had told her: vibrant, fun, bursting with warmth and positive energy. The only surprising thing so far was Bianca. She’d known her for almost twenty years, and hadn’t ever seen her so sparkly-eyed and doting. This relationship was clearly making her happy, giving her a new kind of brightness, and that was lovely to see.

“No, but seriously,” Jinkx continued, linking her arm through Bianca’s. “I think you guys make a great couple. Sugar Mama is a good look for you.”

“I...” Bianca opened her mouth, at first looking like she was about to protest that characterization, but then seemed to think better of it, her lips twisting into a smirk. “Yeah, well…”

Jinkx laughed, watching as Courtney gave Alaska a hug and skipped back to them, arms immediately winding around Bianca’s waist, eyes shining with love as she gazed up at her. Bianca whispered something into her ear, too soft for Jinkx to hear, before kissing her gently.

It was all disgustingly cute, Jinkx noted, nose wrinkling just slightly.

***

Raja held Raven’s hand as they slowly moved through the Henri De Toulouse-Lautrec exhibition at MoMA, the evening's guests all holding little glasses of champagne, the low tone of constant chatter all around them.

The dinner had been lovely, Raven taking obvious delight in the decadence of it all, but Raja had to admit that she missed her brother, Sutan’s absence on New Years like a little hole in her heart.

She knew he was sick, knew that it made sense that he was spending the evening at home with Violet, but Raja couldn’t help but feel forgotten.

Sutan had confided in her that he told Violet he loved her, and Raja wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t, because Sutan and Violet had only been together for about 6 months, and she had been his best friend since before they were born, their history spanning literal decades compared to Violet’s months.

In all honesty, Raja had been wavering about whether or not she wanted Violet to come along for Aspen, Kahmora a complete disaster when she had joined them. After the ‘love’ reveal though, she was happy for the opportunity to spend a few days with her brother’s girlfriend, and figure out her exact motivation for being with him, to scratch deeper and see what was hiding underneath that polite surface.

“Ooh” Fame turned around, a smile on her lip. She was wearing all white and looked positively radiant, her hand on Patrick’s elbow. “What about this one?” She pointed at one of the pieces, a group of women all standing together. “Don’t you think that would look fetching in the master bathroom?”

“Well,” Patrick looked at the painting, his other hand in his suit pocket. “Where else would you put a late 19th-century avant-garde?”

“Oh please,” Fame slapped Patrick’s arm, and Raja had to quickly take a sip of her drink, hiding her smile. “It’d be a print. You can’t hang actual art anywhere near a shower. Don’t play smart.”

“Of course, love.”

Raja had to admit that she loved how much Patrick adored needling Fame, giving her small pushes towards the edge a game they often played together, since Fame was so easy to toy with. If it had been anyone else, Raja would have stepped in to stop them, but with Patrick, she knew that he’d always be there to help put everything back together.

“I like that one-” Raven pointed to a large painting of a woman in a low cut blue dress, brown curls spilling down, two other women at her side.

“You would,” Raja pressed her lips against Raven’s temple, lowering her voice to a growl, the woman in the painting basically showing off her breasts, “wouldn’t you, you dirty girl.”

“Raj!” Raven gasped, slapping her chest before giggling.

***

Dahlia smoothed down her scarlet-colored velvet gown, surveying the club with a smile. She would never have admitted it, but when Pearl invited her to this party just yesterday, she’d immediately gone out and splurged on a new dress--and she was glad she had, because she looked like a million bucks. The top was draped, held up alluringly by delicate straps that threatened to slip down her shoulders at any moment, the waist fit her like a glove, and the slit showed off her long legs to perfection. She tossed her glossy dark hair over her shoulder, loving the many pairs of eyes that were so obviously drawn towards her.

“Can I get you a drink?” Pearl asked, voice low and sexy in her ear.

They’d started their own party earlier, pre-gaming and fooling around in Pearl’s apartment as they got ready. Dahlia had been in the middle of straightening her hair when Pearl’s fingers slid up her thighs, which nearly caused her to burn her ear. At this point, they were each about five (or so, they hadn’t really counted) drinks in and fully ready to have the night of their lives.

“Sure.”

“What do you want?” Peal asked, lips grazing her neck.

“Surprise me,” Dahlia said, biting back a whimper. She turned to Pearl, cupping her cheek and saying, “I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

She continued to feel her fantasy as she walked across the dance floor to the restrooms, humming slightly to herself as she stepped up to a sink, hips swaying as she washed her hands. She was just about to reach for a paper towel when she glimpsed a figure in the mirror behind her, coming out of a stall.

Adore.

Dahlia felt her heart sink. What on earth was Adore doing here, looking at her with that hurt puppy expression, completely destroying the delightful buzz that she’d had going on?

Apparently wondering the same thing, Adore burst out, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m...it’s a party.”

Adore swallowed, and for a second Dahlia felt the guilt tighten in her chest. They hadn’t seen each other since that awful gig, when Dahlia had ditched the band and left with Pearl. She’d spoken to the others a few times, intentionally failing to mention that Pearl was more than a one-time thing.

She and Adore had been friends since high school, but for the first time in almost ten years, looking into her face was like looking at a stranger. Dahlia didn’t like to think about how much she’d hurt her, their friendship now probably beyond repair. For a few days after their fight, Dahlia had held out some hope, but when more than a week went by, and then two, and then three and no communication from Adore, she realized that it was truly over between them, despite Aja’s insistence that there was still hope, that she’d be fine after she nursed her wounds for awhile.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Dahlia said, feeling defensive as she added, “Believe me.”

“Yeah, but how did you-”

At that moment, the door to the bathroom banged open, and in waltzed Pearl, still turnt up to 100, holding two drinks in her hands.

“Heyyyyy, D, are you ready to fuck this party up?!”

Adore turned toward her slowly, a look of horror on her face as the situation dawned on her.

Pearl looked hot as sin, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, a black long sleeved crop top clinging to her fit arms and shoving off a tone stomach, a skirt tight around her hips and ending just above her knees, a gold chain digging into the skin on her waist, her heeled boots making her ass look amazing. But Adore didn’t appear to be admiring her beauty or chic fashion sense. Instead, the look on her face was one of pure disgust.

“Are you…” Adore turned back to Dahlia, asking, “Are you here together?”

“Hell yeah!” Pearl exclaimed, before Dahlia could respond. She shot Pearl a look, trying to tell her to shut up with her eyes, but it didn’t do any good. “It’s good to see you, Delano. You look hot as fuck tonight. Want a drink?”

Adore blinked, clearly trying to figure out how Pearl could be such an absolute fucking idiot. (Dahlia was wondering the same thing.)

“...No. No, I don’t want a drink. I want you to leave. Both of you!”

“Why should we leave?” Pearl asked, sipping one of the cocktails. “We don’t have the problem here, and you don’t have to have one either.”

“Because! I’ve known Jinkx since I was a kid and my sister’s here and you’re just here to...why are you here? This isn’t even your scene!”

“I thought it would be a nice change of pace,” Pearl said. “You seriously need to relax, I thought we said we were gonna be friends.”

“Friends? Are you fucking serious, Pearl?”

“Yeah? Why not? It’s not like we ever really worked as a couple.” Pearl held out the other cocktail glass, which Dahlia assumed was meant to be for her, shaking it slightly, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. “Jack and ginger…Isn’t that your drink? Consider it a peace off-”

“Pearl! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you have brain damage?!” Adore cried, slapping her hand away, liquor sloshing over the side of the glass. “You cannot seriously be fucking one of my oldest friends and think everything is gonna be cool! Or that you can buy me off with one cocktail from a fucking open bar!”

“This is so boring.” Pearl groaned slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’re totally ruining my buzz.”

“Good!” Adore yelled, voice hoarse, the tears filling her eyes telling Dahlia that they had about 30 seconds before a full emotional meltdown. She put her hand on Pearl’s arm, trying to signal for her to shut the fuck up so they could get the fuck out.

“Adore, there’s no need to make a scene. Why don’t you grow up and come do shots with us-”

“Do shots with you?!”

“Yes! We can all have some fun, and - what?” Pearl finally noticed Dahlia’s nails digging into her wrist, turning to her with an annoyed expression, which Dahlia ignored.

“I’m sorry,” Dahlia said instead, directly to Adore, as sincerely as possible.

Adore took a deep breath, eyes dull and glassy as she said, “Whatever. I just...please, just-”

“We’ll leave,” Dahlia assured her. After everything that went down, it seemed like the least she could do.

“But-” Pearl began, still not getting it.

“Pearl! Enough! Come.” She grabbed Pearl’s arm and pulled her towards the door, turning at the last second to give Adore one last, “Sorry.”

Adore nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. Her sorry clearly wasn’t enough. It probably never would be. She held her gaze for one more split second before she couldn’t stand it anymore and pushed the door open, shoving Pearl through.

***

“Hurry up lovely eyes!”

“I am, calm down-”

Sutan grinned as Violet grabbed yet another stack of papers from the living room table, moving them out of the way as quickly as she could, the table not at all ready for dinner, since neither of them had expected to be home. They were waiting for their food, the local Chinese restaurant nearly groaning on the phone when Sutan had placed his order, so he had promised to tip generously, though he always did anyway.

Sutan watched Violet, a small smile on his lips as the ends of his girlfriend's hair was still damp, the blue wrap dress and the thick socks so unlike the gown Sutan knew she would have otherwise worn, not that he himself wasn’t in a pair of loose sweats and a sweater.

Sutan didn’t normally pay much attention to what Violet was doing on the living room table, since they both preferred to either eat in the kitchen or at the TV, but it seemed like he should start checking in more, everything he stumbled upon utterly fascinating.

So far, he had seen completed patterns for skirt embroidery, all marked in Violet’s neat handwriting and completely idiot proof, his girlfriend clearly still not trusting the tailoring department to do their job while they were away in Aspen.

He had spotted what he assumed was the beginning of Raja’s MET clothes, seeing his twin's face stare back at him highly amusing. Violet had already done several small collections, fabrics and sketches all stapled together in little collages that gave a quick overview of her thoughts.

“Where do you want me to-” Sutan took a stack of paper from the table, wanting to help Violet, but all he managed was to make his girlfriend whip around, her eyes wide.

“Careful!”

“I am!” Sutan laughed, hooking his thumbs on top of the layers of fabric so it wouldn’t go anywhere as he walked over to the chest of drawers, putting it down to the side. “I didn’t realize you were so messy, Violet.”

“Please,” Violet snorted, leaning on her crutches with a raised eyebrow. “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Kitchen Table.”

“Ha!” Sutan grinned, the taunt hitting exactly right, though he hadn’t actually thought about the kitchen table in forever, the surface somehow always clean when he needed it.

***

In the elevator, Dahlia fumed silently as she slipped on her coat. She’d been expecting an epic and glamorous night, not the shitshow that had just occured. Even more annoyingly, Pearl seemed unfazed by the whole thing.

“So, where to?” Pearl asked, her voice obnoxiously chipper.

“I don’t know,” Dahlia replied sullenly.

Completely oblivious to her tone, Pearl soldiered on. “There’s this great dive bar a few blocks from here, it’s-”

“A dive bar?” Dahlia cut in bitterly. “Dressed like this?”

Dahlia had not dropped nearly $300 on a new dress and spent two hours getting ready to end up in a dive bar. She crossed her arms.

“Well...I... Okay, if you want another fancy party, I can find one.” Pearl pulled up Twitter on her phone, scrolling through her feed. “I know my boss is at that MoMA thing, but I bet we can find something better-”

Suddenly though, even the thought of another extravagant party left a terrible taste in Dahlia’s mouth.

“Maybe I should just go home,” Dahlia sighed.

“What? Why?” Pearl’s head was tilted, confused, and looking at her big blue eyes, Dahlia couldn’t hold in her exasperation for a second longer.

“Because! I’m not really in the mood to sip champagne after all that! I know you’re like, hashtag unbothered by the whole thing, but it kind of sucks that I lost one of my oldest friends!” she burst out, just as the elevator reached the lobby.

Pearl touched her gently on the hand, saying sincerely, “It’s her loss, D.”

Dahlia sighed. She appreciated that Pearl was making an effort to be all ride-or-die, but it just felt too much like dismissing her feelings. She had lost something, something important, and she felt like shit.

“I just...wonder if it was worth it…” Dahlia admitted, and Pearl’s brow creased, finally bothered for the first time.

“I didn’t force you to come out with me,” she said quietly.

“I know,” said Dahlia.

“Or to fuck me.”

“I know.”

They stared at each other, a few moments of awkward silence passing before Dahlia finally looked down. It wasn’t fair of her to put all of this on Pearl, she knew that. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit resentful.

“If you really want to go home, I can get you a cab,” Pearl finally said.

Dahlia swallowed, a deep sigh leaving her. “Okay…”

So much for her epic, glamorous New Year’s Eve.

***

Still shaking a little from that awful confrontation in the bathroom, Adore walked towards the bar to order a drink. She’d been doing her best not to think about Dahlia or the whole mess with Pearl over the holidays, but Aja had asked her a few days earlier if they were gonna work things out, for the sake of the band.

Adore was thinking about it--after all, she loved her band. She loved writing music and she loved performing, and Dahlia had been part of it from the beginning. So she was trying to work up the energy to talk to her again. Or, she had been until tonight.

The fact that she was still dating Pearl was the last thing Adore expected. From Dahlia, that is. From Pearl, at this point nothing would surprise her.

Ugh.

She glanced around the room, wondering where the fuck Courtney was. Of course, she finally spotted her with Jinkx and Bianca, perched on a sofa, hanging on her sister’s arm...and likely her every word, if the look on her face was any indication.

Adore rolled her eyes, in no mood for Courtney’s slavish puppy love at the moment.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender.

“Double Jameson,” Adore replied immediately, then after half a second added, “Actually, make it a triple.”

“You got it.”

Adore put her head on the bar and groaned slightly. Beside her, someone chuckled drily.

“Sounds like your night is going about as well as mine.” The tall blonde grinned at her sheepishly, recognition dawning in her eyes. “Wait, aren’t you Courtney’s friend?”

Adore puffed out her cheeks. She’d been known as ‘Bianca’s sister’ for most of her life, and she was resigned to it at this point. But now, she was gonna be ‘Courtney’s friend’? When would she just be herself? “Yeah. I’m Adore.”

Thankfully, the bartender set Adore’s drink down just then, allowing her to take a giant sip.

“Alaska,” supplied the blonde. “I work with Court at Galactica. I love her so much, she’s just the sweetest thing ever. She talks about you all the time.”

Frustration reaching a boiling point, Adore burst out with, “Yeah, Courtney’s the fucking greatest. My best friend. Although you wouldn’t know it tonight, since all she cares about is my fucking sister and the moon that apparently shines out of her ass.”

Alaska looked taken aback for a moment, and Adore squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just...yeah, I’m just having a real shitty night, and I...please forget I said all that.” She couldn’t help finishing with, “Even though it’s true.”

Alaska laughed, a long infectious laugh that made Adore smile in spite of her wretched mood. “Consider it forgotten…But are you okay? Feeling a little left out?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know. I just saw my ex, who is now dating my former friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Why don’t we talk about you instead? What’s your story?” Adore asked her.

Wincing, Alaska sipped her drink. “Let’s not. I’m…sort of going through it tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Is it worse than your friend of ten years fucking your ex right after you broke up, and then the two of them showing up pretending like everything is normal and your ex asking you to fucking do shots with them?”

“Uh…no…not worse than that. Jesus.” Alaska shook her head and gestured to Adore’s drink. “You sure a triple’s strong enough?”

Adore laughed and shook her head. “It’s not. But I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I hear that.” Alaska reached out and put a hand on Adore’s. “They both sound like assholes, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Adore said gratefully, looking into Alaska’s kind brown eyes and feeling seen for the first time all night. She cleared her throat. “...Okay, I just told you my shit. Wanna tell me yours?”

“Well…” Alaska chewed nervously on the straw in her own cocktail. “I have this friend…”

“Yeah…?” Adore prompted.

“I’m in love with her, and she doesn’t feel the same way, so I come to these things to torture myself.”

“Fuck.” Adore nodded, completely understanding this girl’s pain. She tossed back the last of her drink, then slammed the glass back down onto the bar, thinking that they may as well have some fun. “Fuck it. Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure!” Alaska said, a beautiful smile blooming on her face.

*

It wasn’t until they were on the dance floor, Adore’s hands circling Alaska’s waist, that she began to feel how tipsy she was. She hadn’t intended to drink, and certainly not to this point, but here she was. Thankfully, Adore didn’t seem to mind supporting her weight.

She leaned in close, mouth right up against Alaska’s ear, and said, “Your friend is a dumbass.”

Alaska giggled. “Thanks, I think?”

“I’m serious! You’re totally hot.”

“Shut up.”

“Fuck you, I will not!” Adore held her tighter. “Is she here?”

Alaska glanced to the side of the room, where Jinkx was laughing with someone. She nodded.

“Wanna make her jealous?”

“How are we gonna–” Alaska was cut off by Adore’s soft, warm mouth against hers, plush lips pressed to hers, hands pulling her closer. After her initial surprise, she relaxed into the kiss, winding her fingers in Adore’s long, messy red hair and opening her mouth, letting her tongue inside. It had been so long, and she maybe responded a little too ardently. Maybe let it go on a little too long. Maybe pressed against her too hard…but damn, she felt good.

Adore pulled her head back, grinning wickedly, and whispered, “Is she looking?”

“Is…what…oh, shit.” Alaska suddenly remembered what she was doing and glanced to the side without moving her head. “Yeah, she’s looking,” she answered softly.

Adore kissed her again, sliding her hands down to her ass. Alaska’s heart raced and she whimpered slightly. Adore released her again and winked. “Happy New Year,” she said, sauntering away.

Alaska brought a hand to her mouth, watching her walk away with a slightly dazed expression. She caught Jinkx’s eye for a split second and then looked away, blushing.

***

[twilightprince101]

Mafia!Wiggle AU

So yeah, I came up with the idea of Wiggle being a mob boss a few days ago and I succumbed to the brain rot. Wrote an entire fic for this idea, introducing her and what she's like.

I got flustered myself writing the tall crime lady. Enjoy!

Mafia Boss Wiggle

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF’A ME YOU MEATHEADS!!” A lanky, roughed up grumpus struggles in the beefy arms of two well-dressed goons. They grip his arms tight with their paws, dragging his body along behind it like an afterthought. “You have any idea what my family will do when-?!”

“Shut your trap already,” the purple goon groaned. They adjust their ornate mask, brushing the sunset and emerald colored feathers out of their eyes. “Honestly, you’re lucky we caught you before openin’ hours, else we’d have to knock your teeth in to keep you from disturbin’ the patrons.”

“Don’t act like yer better than me!” The red grump kicks over a velvet chair from a nearby table as they pass. It clatters against the polished wood floor, echoing through the well-lit nightclub. A bartender--wearing a similar feathered and jeweled mask to the goons--gets up from polishing glasses to set it right. “Don’t you know who I am?! I’m from the Turnpipe family!! My boys’ll storm this place once they hear what you’se done to me! They’ll roast you all over open flames until every last strand of your fur is singed to the flesh!! You’ll be nothing but a naked mole rat for the rest of your lives!!!”

“Heya Cold-Brew, how was your kid’s party last night?” The blue goon holding Turnpipe’s other paw waves to the bartender as he sets the chair upright.

“Went okay. Park got rained out midway through the picnic, so we went to Slaker’s for ‘shakes.”

“Ah, shame. Need any help after I’m done here?” He gestures to their victim as if it were a sack of potatos. The red grump wiggles and yells while scuffing the floor they’re dragged across.

“Nah, should be good here, thanks ‘Stein. Fifteen until the doors open.” Cold-Brew waves back to the goons as he returns to his station, both wave back and smile.

“I SAID LET ME GO YOU INVERTEBRATES!!!!”

“Ugh, honestly why can’t you all say anything original?” The purple grump shakes their head. “Always just ‘let me go,’ ‘I’m with this family,’ ‘You’ll pay for this,’ if you’re gonna keep yappin’ at least say something interesting.”

“I’LL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!!!”

“Hehey, he tells jokes!”

The nightclub’s attendants laugh together under the neon spotlights as the intruder’s yells fall on uncaring ears. Past the bar lined with high class alcohol and the grand stage lined with spotlights and the band pit, the three grumps make their way to a door labeled “BACKSTAGE: EMPLOYEE’S ONLY.” With a quick knock and faint response from the other side, the two gently push open the door and leave the main area behind.

“Heya boss,” the purple goon speaks, his voice much more formal. “Found this one tryin’ to bash the front lock open with a brick. Got him before any major damage was done, don’t worry.”

Both grumps lift the intruder up by the shoulders, leaving his legs kicking in the air. It takes the Turnpipe a moment to adjust to the dimmer lighting and he coughs from the lingering cigarette smoke in the air.

“Thank ya’ darlings,” a sultry voice speaks, facing away from the three. The grump thinks that the boss is some shade of pink, but poking above the large mass of pink fluff a sort of golden orange pokes out. Despite being held in the air, the orange grumpus sitting at the table in front of them reaches just below the Turnpipe’s height. “Wouldn’t want him making a mess before our loyal customers come in.”

“Are you these goons’ boss?!” The Turnpipe screams, pointing at the grumpus. “You fucked up now! When the Turnpipes hear of this-”

“They’ll tear us limb from limb, yes hun I know.” The boss speaks calmly, comfortably while applying purple eyeliner via pocket mirror.  “I could hear you all the way backstage, making me consider sound proofing.”

The red grumpus blinks. Despite the goons disregarding his threats earlier, for some reason his mind expected her to take him seriously. He takes a moment to look around the employee’s area, finding various other grumps of size and stature. Some more fancily-dressed grumps put on makeup and practice vocal exercises in large vanity mirrors, while toned tux-wearing grumps check their suits before walking out to the main club area. All of them are wearing the same mask and haven’t given him so much as a glance.

“Now tell me darling,” the boss angles the pocket mirror to address her intruder. Her ice blue iris gives off a sharp, cold gaze that clashes with the warm and comforting atmosphere before. “Why were you trying to break into our lovely establishment? Just couldn’t wait to have some fun, wanted to steal some of our booze perhaps?”

“Wh-no I’m, I don’t care about your stupid club!!” The Turnpipe yells, finding his fury again. “One’a your meatheads shook down my brother! They were on my family’s turf, and I don’t take these insults lyin’ down!”

“I can see that. So you’d rather take it in the air instead?”

Some of the other staff members chuckle as they check themselves for the third time over.

“Du-buh?!” Did you even hear what I said?!” The turnpipe explodes, his enemy’s eyes narrowing in the mirror. “YOUR goons-”

“I heard you clearly.”

The CLICK of the pocket mirror cuts through the smoky air. She places it on the table alongside the bills, fan letters and knives and begins spinning her chair around. It swivels as she sweeps her long legs along with the momentum, poking out of her dark emerald dress. The dark emerald dress’s frills flutter from the sudden movement, draping the boss from her knees to the straps on her shoulders, hidden under her flowing pink mane. With a CLACK of her deep purple heels on stone she sets her crossed legs down and stops the chair in place. Her previous playful gaze is now replaced with one of annoyance, both her icy and greyed eyes narrowed in contempt.

With her clean scar sweeping across her right eye, the boss of the Gilded Dahlias, Wiggle Wigglebottom, sits up fully and rests a paw on her chin while gazing down at her prey.

“I’m just curious as to how you thought you could barge in here and get revenge against my boys, my gang, even me, all by yourself. You certainly don’t have the physique or firepower to do the job, so my first guess is that you’re either full of yourself, or just plain dumb.”

The performers all “ooooooooh~” between them, like a class of 8th graders hearing their fellow classmate called up to the principal’s office.

“I mean-well, I…” The red grumpus searches the floor for the right words, then balls his fists and puffs out his chest. “I’d assume YOU would pay us with respect! Us Turnpipe’s been around longer than you newbies have, so we outrank you!”

“It’s stupidity folks!!” Wiggle cheers and flicks up a paw to announce the results. A few goons groan and dig into their jacket pockets, handing their smiling associates a fat wad of bills. Turnpipe’s hot air dissipates and he deflates once more.

“Damn, third in a row… I’ll treat you to a drink later Wiggle.” A brown-furred performer in a glittery red dress crosses her arms.

“Maybe a milkshake,” The boss peeks over her shoulder, “I overheard Brew talking about Slakers and my sweet tooth’s been acting up lately! Them icy sweets are ‘Callin my naaaame~’.” She sings in a wide vocal range with complete ease, giving her paw a flourish and leaning back as she hums.

“You… You know, just because you’re new it doesn’t mean you’re better than us! Don’t act like you’re a hotshot just because you did a few successful heists!”

“A few? Oohohoho!!” Wiggle peers back, sitting up straight once again. “Goodness darlin’, you are not helping your case right now. Tell me, how many bank heists has your little family done in the past year?”

“Uh… twenty five?”

A tuxed grumpus snorts as he walks out.

“Oh darling…” Wiggle places a palm against her cheek with a pitiful smile. “That’s not even cute, it’s just... sad.”

“Yeah?! Well, I’d like to see you-”

“Fifty three.” Wiggle interrupts. “In the past three months.”

“...wha-”

“Around… how much was it Abra?” Wiggle calls behind her.

“Passed the million mark just last week!” A green grumpus, wearing more casual clothing, peeks out from around a corner leading to an employee hallway.

“Got so much excess profits that even after giving everyone a bonus, I got to turn the rest to my own personal bed!” She waves a paw in the air. “Certainly wasn’t the comfiest experience, but I at least got to check it off my bucket list!”

“I… I don’t…” The Turnpipe’s words do their best to try and search for any rage or anger to grasp onto, but any attempt to feel above her hasn’t worked, not helped by the fact he’s still being held up by the shoulders like a small child. After around ten seconds of stammering, Wiggle sighs and shakes her head.

“You don’t gotta try and act tough anymore darlin’, I think I get what you’re about now…” The sunset grumpus uncrosses her legs and lets her other heel clack on the floor. The Turnpipe’s gaze goes from eye level to slowly upwards, and upwards, and upwards; the boss’s body obscuring the light from one of the vanities. She wraps one of her paws around the grip of a knife lodged into the table and yanks it out. Her prey freezes up in the arms of her trap.

“You didn’t come here so you could avenge your brother or any sappy nonsense like that.” Wiggle circles around the Turnpipe, her heels echoing their clicks with each step while fiddling with the knife in her paws. “You came here so you could try and make yourself feel big and stwong, flaunting your family name as if it were a gun in of itself.”

“I…” Clack. Clack. Clack. It becomes hard to think as each step feels like a hammer and chisel against his brain. Wiggle looks the red grump up and down, drawing invisible lines up and down his torso.

“Since you came in you’ve been talking about your little gang as if you ran it. ‘My boys,’ ‘My gang,’ ‘My my my my my.’ But all that time, being caught up in your own head? It just made your skull more dense. All you are is just some lowly lackey that probably joined, say…” She plants an elbow on the Turnpipe’s head, checking her makeup one last time in the reflection of her knife. “A month ago? Maybe less?”

The frog in her armrest’s throat nearly leaps out of his mouth. His head shrinking down is the only confirmation Wiggle needs.

“You’ve been so caught up in that little bubble of yours, thinking you’re the hottest grump on the block, just because you’re part of a gang. Think just because you have a name to flaunt around and access to guns it makes you powerful. But I’m gonna let you in on a secret little man.” The Turnpipe’s body clenches as Wiggle stands back up and Clacks her way back to his front, eyeing the knife she paws in her hands as intensely as possible.

“Having a name to flaunt around doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.

“Having guns and knives to hold against people’s throats doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.

“Having enough money to buy out all of Grump Vegas doesn’t bring you power.”

Clack.’

“But you know what does?”

Wiggle towers above the Turnpipe, patting her razor-sharp knife in her paw. All different rays of light are obscured by her roaring mane, leaving the grump to cower in the arms of her two goons. She Clacks forward, and her goons take a step back. Not out of fear or trepidation though; a quick glance to both of their faces shows the same devilish smile that their boss wears. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Every single step is like a jolt of ice to his heart, dragging every last little step for an eternity as his entire being trembles in the arms of the two goons. Just the slight bump of the wall on his back knocks out every bit of air in his lungs and he fights to just inhale as his natural predator CLACKS just inches away from him, casting a toothy, ecstatic smile. Her single, silver iris seems to glow in the limited light.

Wiggle grips the knife in a reverse grip in her left hand and begins to raise it. The grumpus tries to close his eyes and look away but she grabs his chin with her other paw and forces his gaze back to her. His attempts to shake his head in a desperate plea are pointless, her paw digging into his fur and keeping him from moving even a centimeter out of place. The glinted metal shines as it finally reaches the zenith of its arc, hungry to tear through red grumpus fur. With nothing left to do all the Turnpipe can do is let tears stream down his face.

With the speed of a bullet and barely giving the Turnpipe a moment to flinch, Wiggle swings down the dagger. Her victim closes his eyes and blurts out a whimper and-

THUNK!!!

…

He’s not dead. His eyes are still fuzed shut but he’s still not dead, he can hear the sounds of the backstage area around him. The Turnpipe forces an eye open to peek at the knife and his skeleton nearly leaps out and books it at the sight. The knife is only a hair’s length away from his cheek embedded into the wood beam he’s pressed against. A sting in his cheek and the running of a warm liquid helps him fill in the gap of what happened. But just a little bit away, the Turnpipe finds something else that makes his body completely shut down

It’s Wigglebottom’s face, just as close to his as the knife.

Her icy and greyed eyes peer into the Turnpipe’s irises, flickering around while high on adrenaline and terror. Her gaze looks past his false-bravado exterior and reaches further, deeper inside him into a dark pit he had tried so desperately to hide. A black, slimy, jittering piece of disgust comes out. Letting the grip on his chin go she traces his chin and speaks in a tone fitting of her now-sultry gaze. Wiggle leans in close, so close that the Turnpipe can smell her rich floral perfume, and whispers into his ear.

“Fear~”

“...”

The Turnpipe’s mind has gone blank. Despite the pounding jackhammer in his chest, the final whisper and breath of hot air from the Gilded Dahlia boss erases his mind, leaving him a whimpering and stuttering mess. A few of the remaining employees from backstage snicker and point at her latest victim, though he isn’t able to process the fact that he’s being mocked. Seeing that the usual routine has worked yet again, Wiggle leaves the knife implanted in the wall and pulls back with a satisfied smile.

“Boys,” she snaps a finger in the air, her tone returning to the playful nature it was before, “drop our newest employee. He won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, should be good to leave him back here for the day.”

Both goons do as they’re told without question, letting the grumpus slump to the floor, his knees having completely given out. He continues to stare at the ground and shake his head, crying as he trembles from the terror just inflicted.

“So what’re you gonna make this one boss?” The purple grumpus asks with a playful smile. “Waiter? Bartender?”

“Nah.” She shrugs with little effort. “He doesn’t really have the looks for either of those. Probably’ll make him our new janitor, been needing a new one after our last one squealed. Feel free to give him the old guy’s uniform, I feel it should fit pretty well.”

The purple goon nods and takes out a sketchpad, writing “Find old janitor’s uniform” at the bottom of the list as they walk past and out towards the main area.

“Alright everyone, hopefully this little show of mine was able to help you get fired up! We got five minutes ‘till the doors open, get those finishing touches done!” The boss claps her hands in the air to her employees, resuming business as usual. “If we’re able to double our profits today I’ll treat everyone to Slakers at the end of our shift tonight! Let’s make tonight a good one darlin’s!”

The warm and familiar chatter of the backstage area continues once more. As every last well-dressed employee strolls out to prepare for the afternoon they pass by their new coworker, neither giving the other a glance. As the front door opens and the excited clamoring of a new audience begins to fill the club, Wiggle peers down at her latest victim, slumped up the hole-ridden wood post on his back. She smirks and gives a content sigh.

“Maybe one day you’ll all surprise me… but until then, I suppose this is just as fun~”

Wiggle ruffles the head of the former Turnpipe like an affectionate puppy, and then walks back to her main office, her heels Clacking and echoing throughout backstage and the red grumpus’s empty mind.

[amphtaminedreams]

Farewell to Spooky Season, AHS Style: Lookbook no.12

Hi to anyone reading,

Happy belated Halloween!

I capitalise it because if I'm gonna recognise any day as sacred, it’s the spookiest one of the year! Halloween 2020 obviously hasn’t been as exciting as usual, parties and club nights being banned has meant there’s been far less opportunities to dress up, but I still managed to get out for the night before they announced the upcoming second lockdown and do a couple of spooky movie nights (and carve a pumpkin!)!

I originally intended for this lookbook to be last minute halloween costume inspo but I was lazy and didn’t manage to get it out on time-a lot of these looks minus the makeup and maybe an accessory or two could work on any day or night out so I thought I’d go ahead and post it now anyway. Celebrating the fashion moments of American Horror Story is something I’ve wanted to do for a while; it’s probably not the first show you’d think of for sartorial inspiration but Mr. Ryan Murphy has fucking fantastic taste in stylists and the first five seasons of AHS in particular, which I’ll be focussing on in this post, have given us SO many amazing looks. The man may be guilty of many things-subjecting us to the character of Will Schuester, trying to turn Richard Ramirez into a thirst trap, embarrassing everyone who raved about how good Scream Queens was when he wrote season 2-but costume related laziness is not one of them. We see more consistency in a Ryan Murphy character’s wardrobe than we do in their story arcs and I respect that because honestly, as much as I love joining in when it comes to ripping into his ability to cohesively bring an AHS season to a close when it airs, I’d probably be the same; if you put Lady Gaga in front of me and told me to write her lines I’d probably end up getting overly invested in what her character was going to be wearing in the scene too. 

So! Enough Ryan Murphy bashing from me! I’ll get on with it! Starting with 3 season 1 inspired looks:

Murder House: Elizabeth Short, Tate Langdon and Violet Harmon

-striped jumper from caitlinlark on Depop, kick flare jeans from ellagray-

When it comes to reflecting on season 1 of American Horror Story, all I can say do is thank the internet overlords that Tumblr has moved on from the romanticising school shooters and wearing normal people scare me tops phase to instead collectively taking the piss out of the “GO AWAY, TATE!”, “YOU’RE ALL THAT I WANTTT! YOU’RE ALL THAT I HAVEEE!” exchange. 

In terms of fashion *moments*, whilst season 1 doesn’t stand out as much as the seasons that come after, Violet and Tate’s wardrobes did give birth to a bit of a 90s grunge renaissance with their oversized knits and faded jeans and layering of textures. It did also give us good costumes in the form of Alexandra Breckenridge’s Moira O’Hara and Mena Suvari’s portrayal of the Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short; unfortunately, I didn’t have a slutty maid costume lying around so I did the best I could at giving the outfit Elizabeth wears when she makes that fateful visit to the Murder House a modern, more party appropriate update.

In terms of season rankings, Murder House isn’t my favourite. It starts off really great but lulls a bit towards the end and I could never get behind Violet and Tate as a couple because you know, one of them is a school shooter who sexually assaults the other’s mum, and that’s a hurdle that I think most couples might struggle to get over irl. That being said, it was the season that started it all and showcased some of the most innovative writing and directing on TV, and it opened up a spot for horror on primetime television which as far as I know was kind of unheard of before then. Back when I first watched it, I had no idea what to expect not only because I’d never seen horror in a serial format but also because it seemed to be able to get away with the kind of storylines you’d expect network executives to fire people over. It introduced us to Jessica Lange and Sarah Paulson and Evan Peters and Denis O’Hare who would go on to make the show what it is today and more importantly, through Jessica’s glorious portrayal of Constance Langdon, provide us with an endlessly versatile meme format for this trying time.

Asylum: ‘60s Lana Winters, ‘70s Lana Winters, and Sister Mary Eunice McKee

-afghan coat from louisemarcella on Depop, red AA skater dress from julietramage, pink gingham co-ord from zshamim-

I think we can all agree: Asylum would’ve been a perfect series of television if it wasn’t for the completely unnecessary alien storyline. Like, I get that they fit in with the whole good vs. evil theme as a kind of non-biblical alternative to the idea of a higher, all-powerful being but there was already so much going on that it just wasn’t needed. Aside from that, I think the general consensus amongst watchers of the show is that Asylum has the best writing of any season and I think I’d tend to agree. It’s not my favourite because it’s too depressing to rewatch but if we’re talking the first time round, this is the series that had me hooked. Lana Winters?

Iconic. 

Sister Mary Eunice? Iconic. The Name Game? Iconic. Remember when you couldn’t go a day on Facebook without seeing that one photo of Naomi Grossman as Pepper used as the go to “what I really look like” photo in one of those “expectation vs. reality” style posts on your newsfeed? Those were simpler times.

Because this season was mostly situated within the hospital, we didn’t get that many proper outfits but when we did, they were stunning; if I had to state my absolute favourite AHS character of the entire show I’d probably go with Lana Winters and the part her wardrobe played in her characterisation would 100% play a part in that. The late 60s/early 70s was such a wonderful period for fashion and through her character we get to see both of those explored a little. Of course there’s also *that* Sister Mary Eunice scene with the red slip dress and suspenders too which yes, could be a perfect halloween costume, but I also strongly believe should be a perfectly acceptable outfit for any day of the year. 

Coven: Misty Day, Madison Montgomery, and Zoe Benson

-chiffon dress from rags_to_riches on Depop, pinstripe corset from hanpiercey, and tennis skirt from mollie_morton-

I hate to be a basic bitch but I have to say it: Coven is my favourite season of American Horror Story. Once you get over the complete waste of Evan Peters’ acting capabilities that resulted from the *choice* to have him play Kyle, the unnecessary rehash of the Evan/Taissa pairing from season 1 in what I can only assume was an attempt to capitalise on the popularity of the questionable Tate/Violet relationship, and the subsequent sacrifice of any interesting character arc we could’ve foreseen for Zoe Benson beyond her obsessing over a resurrected, non-verbal frat boy, it’s a perfect season. A supreme (heh) balance of horror, humour, and character drama, as well as the stunning aesthetics and forever quotable dialogue, make it my go-to season if I’m ever considering a rewatch. And if you disagree, let me jog your memory with the most mainstream (not to get all “normal people scare me” and suggest AHS is not a mainstream show, I literally just mean in the sense that even those who have never watched the show will have seen this)  reaction GIF set any FX show has even spawned:

Buzzfeed employees had a field day, Emma Roberts enthusiasts (I mean me) finally saw her cemented as the pop culture icon Scream Queens has since showed us she deserves to be (because not enough people have seen Unfabulous, Nancy Drew or Scream 4) and the gays everywhere rejoiced at the year’s worth of meme fodder they’d been provided with. It was Madison Montgomery’s world and we were truly just living in it.

And the fashion! I mean, Stevie Nicks meets 21st century teenage witches! Come on! 

Freakshow: Dandy Mott, Maggie Esmerelda and Elsa Mars

-olive green satin skirt from morganogle on Depop, headscarf from tonijordan, platform sandals from elliefewt, PVC skirt from bethpin_, corset top from sadieflinter, beret from house_of_erotique, flame detail platform boots from mad_rags_vintage-

When people talk about the declining quality of AHS, they usually point to Freakshow as the beginning of the end, but I have to completely disagree. I wasn’t a fan the first time round but on rewatch it’s probably the most emotional season of them all; no, there aren’t as many “horrifying” moments as in other seasons and Elsa is probably Jessica’s worst performance (which is still an incredible one by anybody else’s standards), however it makes up for it with the most sympathetic bunch of characters yet, and on the flip side, also one of the most amusingly depraved with Finn Wittrock’s Dandy Mott. Fans usually argue that the season went downhill once *SPOILER* Twisty the Clown was killed off but for me, he really primarily served as the catalyst for the far more interesting devolution of Dandy, who, imo, is the show’s strongest villain to date, rivalled only by Bloody Face. Then there was the episode Orphans too which made me cry buckets, the sole AHS episode to do so. 

We got a lot of great fashion content in this season too: the theatrical opulence of Elsa Mars’ wardrobe, “Maggie”’s nomadic fortune teller costumes, and all those twee suits we saw Finn Wittrock in. Highly underrated if you ask me. It seems an odd choice for me to use Elsa’s Dominatrix look as an inspiration for one of my looks here when we have that Life on Mars performance outfit and all the extravagant robes Jessica got to waltz around in for reference buuuut I didn’t really have anything to do the vibrancy of either of those justice so I went with the black leather option which is much more me. Am I saying I moonlight as a dominatrix? Maybe. Lol, no. I wish. It’s not for lack of trying. WHERE ARE ALL THE GENUINE TWITTER PAYPIGS AT!? Your girl wants to insult creepy men and get some new clothes out of it xoxo

Hotel: Hypodermic Sally, Liz Taylor, and The Countess

-silk white bralet from xlibby_maix on Depop-

Hotel is another season that I liked a lottttt more upon rewatch, once I knew I was okay to tune out the (completely predictable and utterly nonsensical) Ten Commandments Killer storyline that so much of the season initially seems to hinge on. I love Chloë Sevigny but the fact that her and Wes Bentley’s wooden John and Alex Lowe are positioned as the protagonists at the expense of the far more interesting Liz Taylor, James March and Hypodermic Sally really does a disservice to what is an otherwise great season upon initial viewing.

The visuals this season are magnificent and I think if I had to pick one character’s wardrobe to steal from the entire cast of AHS characters, it would be The Countess (a toss up between her and Misty Day tbh, so I kinda just settle for low-key channelling both). No fucking idea where I'd wear any of her clothes to but I’d make it work. Liz Taylor and Hypodermic Sally have some amazing looks too-there’s just honestly so much to choose from; that being said, this post wouldn’t be complete without a specific ode to the vampire goddess Elizabeth Bathory, who is everything I want to be in life minus the murderous qualities:

Everything. EVER-Y-THING. LOOK AT HER!

Lady Gaga is really a fucking goddess isn’t she. And people were claiming before they’d even seen it that she couldn’t act? A patriarchal society doesn’t like women that can do it all. Just saying. 

Anyways!

That’s it for now! I hope you enjoyed the post if you did read til the end! Sorry I couldn’t get this out before Halloween, I was typing and Picmonkey-ing madly from 2 in the afternoon on the 31st but I taking fucking forever to get ready and had to abandon all hope of getting it out on the day by 4PM. I’ve got so much content planned and it sucks because a couple of them are lookbooks which now feel completely redundant given we’re heading into a second lockdown, but maybe I should just do it anyway? The grunge inspired moodboard I just did seemed to get a good reception too so I’ve got some more of them planned. 

As always, hope everyone is keeping well, and feel free to inbox me with any suggestions, queries or even just to say hi if you need someone to talk to! I check here quite a lot so I should see it. Lots of love to everyone in this time!

Lauren x

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

42. "This isnt going to have a happy ending" (Seven)

@youbloodymadgenius

(Sorry this took so long.)

[Ala Alice in borderland on Netflix. ]

Oscar stared at the ceiling of his latest dwelling - a small, studio apartment no bigger than a hotel room. A fan whirled quietly, pushing a small breeze throughout the space. He let his eyes drift to the singular window and out to the roadways and parking lots the complex surrounded. Thin walls allowed him to hear everything his neighbors went through, day in and day out. Drab colors covered the walls making the space even more depressing.

What a shithole.

However it wasn't the worst place work had sent him over the years. Given his station in life he had been required to live in some of the shadier places on Earth. Being a hired hand for the most powerful players meant you went where they sent you. No questions. If he had known his experience in spec ops would turn him into a glorified errand boy he would never have replied to his recruitment.

They're lucky they pay so well.

He sat up with a sigh and forced himself from the futon. A female living to his right was on the phone with, whom he could only assume was a friend, complaining about her most recent bout of dieting. Her cat ate better than she did according to her.

Oscar shuffled to his small bathroom and splashed cool water across his face. He'd been there a month already and his target had yet to show up. He huffed silently to himself. He tried to warn the powers that be to move on from their obsession. After the doctor's botched experiments, they turned all of their attention to a nobody, twenty something.

A fucking kid.

As he dried his face two male voices drifted through his walls, catching his attention. They stood just down the hall and were easily heard. He listened as they discussed benign details of their day and, judging by their voices, they were 409 and 411.

Buzz. Buzz.

He glanced into his apartment at a small kitchen table that doubled as a nightstand. His phone lit up before buzzing once more indicating a text had come through. He tossed the towel onto the edge of the sink and went for his phone.

He swiped up and unlocked his phone to see a picture of Dahlia smiling brightly on the beach. Followed by the question:

[sms: jealous?]

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he saw it was his sister. And yes, he was jealous. He huffed quietly and sent a picture of his current view.

[sms: not really]

[sms: stop bragging] was her reply.

A hard, loud series of knocks at his door pulled him from his phone with a slight start. He wasn't expecting anyone. No one knew he was there, save his sister. And his 'boss' never frequent his residences. They did all their business virtually. The less connected they were physically the better.

The knocking repeated itself and he went to check his doorbell camera. Oddly no one stood there. The hall was empty. Silence began to creep in from all around. Then all power crashed.

All power.

The lights, the camera, the ac, the hall lights. Everything electronic had gone down. Not even his phone was working.

'What the hell?' he asked no one as he tapped the screen and shook it a little. 

He wasn't sure what he hoped would have happened by doing it. It was like blowing on the game system when the cartridge didn't work - useless, but somehow hopeful. When nothing else worked he carefully opened his door, peeking through the hall.  His unknown knocker was still at large.

Seeing that things were all clear, he went to neighbor's and knocked. Maybe they knew more about what happened. Silence followed. He waited a minute and tried again. Still nothing.

"Hello?" he called through her door.

He knew she was in there. She'd just been bitching to her cat, jealous of his superior meal plan.

"I'm from 408."

Silence.

Odd, but maybe she was cautious of unknown males. Although neighbors they knew neither beyond a simple greeting in passing. Something that happened rarely since he'd arrived.

He left her door and went to his other neighbor's. Repeating the same process, resulting in the same response.

His heart began to race as each and every door on his floor resulted in nothing more than silence. He seemed to be the only person there which was impossible. He rushed down the stairs and to the lobby, finding it eerily empty.

"Hey!" he called throughout the lobby as he searched for someone, anyone. "Hello?!"

Oscar left his complex and headed for the streets - which he found littered with abandoned cars and deserted.

What the fuck?!

"Hey!" he yelled louder, darting from car to car, his search still coming up empty.

At this point it felt as if his heart would break through his chest it was beating so hard. His mind raced. Panic was not something he was used and he handled it very poorly. The only one who was ever able to calm him on the rare occassions it did hit was his sister.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the black screen. It still wasn't working. He glanced around to try and find his bearings and noticed something.

The marquees had gone black. the street lights were out. Even the cars wouldn't start. Everything electronic was down. Like an EMP had hit, rendering it all useless. But that didn't account for the lack of people. Oscar had no idea what could have caused that since he remained. His mind went to the only explanation he could think of.

This was hell.

But he didn't remember dying. He'd been in his apartment minding his own business. The knocking was the last sound he heard. Not a gun shot or explosion. Just loud, hard knocking.

A month had gone by. In that time he'd searched nearly every part of the city and found nothing. No one. Each building was just as empty as the last. He scavenged supplies as needed and continued searching for anything to explain away this very real feeling delusion.

Suddenly a small tv screen lit up nearby - a lone light in the darkness. He squinted to see it clearer as he neared.

'Game arena this way.'

Game arena?  What the hell? 

A large arrow pointed to the right and looked where it pointed. As if on cue, a spotlight shown into the sky, illuminating a building a few blocks away. A glance between his phone, which still wasn't working, and the screen was all he took before heading where directed. This was the only thing different to happen since arriving.

He came to an apartment building slightly smaller than his. It too was dark save for the spotlights and some emergency lights running on a gas powered backup generator.  It was just as abandoned as the rest of the city.

Cautiously he entered the building. He'd been through a lot of shit in his day, but this was eerier than hell. The silence was nearly driving him mad. Nevertheless he made his way through the hall, arrows leading the way. He finally came to the end of the hallway. A small table with cell phones and an elevator were all that greeted him. The elevator was down and the phones were off, just like the rest of the city.

Great. More nothing.

He tried the nearby doors and found them all locked. He left to backtrack out when he finally ran into others. Instinctively he grabbed one up and held him against the wall, holding his hand out to keep the others at bay.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you?" he asked glancing between the three of them.

They remained silent, but by the looks of thing he wasn't going to get any answers from them. He could almost smell their fear. Once Oscar actually took the time to actually see them he realized he'd overreacted. They were young men.  In their mid twenties at best. Kids. He was an ex military turned merc who had done a great job of staying fit. He must have looked like a monster to them. He relaxed his grip and held up both hands in apology, taking a small step backward, keeping them all in his sights. 

"Sorry. You're the first people I've found since...getting here and I thought you might have been responsible for whatever is going on," he explained.

They silently shook their heads once they were able to overcome their surge of fear. "We are just as lost as you," one of them said.

He looked at the three of them, studying their body language - which told they were being truthful.

"Do you know what is going on?" a second one asked when the silence became too much for him.

Oscar simply gave him a look to convey how stupid he thought that question was considering their initial meeting.

"Right. Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"We don't know anything," the first one admitted. "We were goofing off and then everything disappeared. It wasn't until dark that we were showed the way here."

Oscar nodded slightly. Aside from the length of time they were here, it was the same as him. "I've been here a month if my count is correct and haven't found shit. Except you guys," he said glancing between them.

The one with the stupid question took a few steps, peeking around the corner. He saw the elevator and table full of phones. His demeanor seemed a bit more hopeful at the sight. "There are phones down here," he said to his friends before taking off for them.

"They don't work," Oscar called out, but the other two had already rushed to join their friend.

When they picked them up the screens woke up. Their faces were scanned and a woman's voice came through - explaining registration was closed in five minutes and the number of participants, which as of now was the three of them.

"What the fuck?" Oscar said picking up a fourth phone. It scanned his face and replayed the same message. "These weren't working when I found them," he said more to himself.

Before they could discuss the recent turn of events a woman emerged from around the corner. She was dressed in business casual attire and looked vastly out of place. She calmly walked toward them and picked up a phone, repeating the process as the rest. This time however the registration time had gone down by two minutes.

"What does that even mean?" the third guy asked when he heard her message. "Registration?"

"Its a game," the woman said, breaking her silence.

"Game? What do you mean game?"

Without a word she pulled out some kind of ID badge and threw it down the hall. They all watched as a lazer shot out and precisely hit the tiny card.

"Once you cross the barrier you have now choice but to play."

"What game?!" the first guy asked again, frustration and worry in his voice.

"We are all in this game," she began to explain. "Each one is different and if you don't complete their tasks you die."

"Their?" Oscar asked.

She shrugged her shoulders "Whoever is running it."

A second girl showed up and when she saw the groups of them she rushed forward, happy to find other humans. The trio of guys tried to stop her, but it was too late and she'd crossed the threshold. Quietly Oscar handed her a phone. After scanning her face the voice rang out that registration was closed and there were six participants. It continued stating the game's name - Dead or Alive - the difficulty - three of clubs, whatever the hell that meant - and the one and only rule:

Pick the right door and exit within the time limit.

Just then the elevator door opened with a sign on it's back wall simply stating 'Start'.

Oscar sighed and quietly told himself "This isn't going to have a happy ending" before heading inside it with the others.

[alienjock]

MY MUSIC

before i start this off id like to say that i fully acknowledge my music taste is not the end all be all of music taste, that being said i like to think that ive got a pretty decent music taste! none of these playlists are Finished. Ever. as my special interest, im constantly in the search for more music. its my lifeblood. its how i express myself. its my love language. i hope you enjoy!

(bolded are favorites, italics are potentially “outdated” or “unfinished”, meaning i need to clean them up.)

MISC:

bratpop - my BRAND. bratpop as a genre term was coined by holychild, and its this really good like front of the bleachers cymbal crashing pep rally LOUD noise pop that i LIVE for 

bratrock - bratrock but make it cherry bomb by the runaways. gritty. little bit of riot girl.

SKATE OR DIE - songs i know by heart <3

a suitcase full of summertime - just a random grab bag of whatever!

songs i discovered through pokemon amvs - what it says on the tin. 

psychic: what the fuck - sometimes u just have songs stuck in ur head constantly

candyland - songs with sugary titles.

dont forget the pack - songs about wolves

songs with people names - songs with people names

love is fun! - 100% uplifting happy positive love songs to remind you you shouldnt be suffering in love.

record wet summer - 2019 summer was SEXY.

i dont wanna be alone with me - an anxiety playlist that is uplifting or detrimental depending on ur mood.

this is my home - some of my favorite instrumentals.

post traumatic ennui - my favorite songs from izombie

shut up and (slow)dance - slow love songs i like

press ! to continue - chiptune!

CONCEPTS:

songs that hit different as a trans guy - yes there are two versions of girls just wanna have fun. yes it is a deeply personal playlist. love u all.

watching the ceiling fan spin - when youre filled with the emotion of What Can You Do But Lay In Bed For Hours. low energy but not like Slow. 

the world’s gonna end. wanna hang out? - it's the end of the world and you go to spend the last few hours of your life with the person you love most.

where the sky meets the sea - oh you know. the ocean. 

bury me in the ocean floor - see above, but darker.

girl of the future - one of my ocs but make her even more hatsune miku than she already is.

the divorced energy of it all - what it says on the tin.

mixtapes and landlines - when youre a gay high schooler in the 1980s and in love with your best friend

nose rings and cigarettes 2012 redux - when youre in love with the punk girl in your english class and its 2012

i’m an expert just like you - obligatory mad scientist playlist

MICHAEL AND HEATHER TAKE ON THE WORLD - my best friend drove me to college once and i made us a playlist to listen to during the ride

dc trip playlist - i met up with a bunch of my best friends at dc and these are all the songs we had stuck in our head that weekend (shout out to @taakitz @release-the-sheep @rearviewrosary)

high seas and childish dreams - my VIBES

ode to singing trees - concept playlist for my dnd campaign

FANMIXES:

and you are mine - symbrock babey. sometimes being possessed by an alien gets you an alien spouse.

LIMA VICTOR-426 - ONE OF MY FINEST CREATIONS. KAIJU!NEWTON. sometimes being possessed by an alien turns you into a rock star.

write you letters (in multicolor!) - newmann. its about the pen pals to lovers to enemies to lovers.

sharkflick! - my animal crossing island vibes! <3

SHARK PUPPY - i dont know who stephen king is. stream betty ripsoms torso

stray kittens - very gooey fanmix for kyo sohma and tohru honda.

🌻 🕷 - miles morales/itsv

dahlias and roses - jupeter from the penumbra podcast

tale as old as time - botw zelink. theyre complex

hero - botw link. hes out there in the woods.

justice, scorned by gods - lawful evil!keyleth of critical role

MADE BY OTHERS: 

o.O - made by @realanimeboy​, lu if youre not okay with me sharing this playlist let me know but it might be one of my favorite playlists someone else has ever made. if youre going to check out any playlist check out this one!

hozier’s influences - made by @fluoresensitive​. VERY VERY good if you like hozier you HAVE to know his roots and inspirations

what if we kissed in the cold war - made by @viciousmaukery, a fanmix for curt mega and owen carvour

late night driving - made by @viciousmaukery. a secret fanmix. its about being in love with your best friend

monster mash (horny edition) - made by @crowlore. exactly what it sounds like.

ssc; chill cave - compiled by @crowlore. one time my server just like sat in vc for like five hours listening to the chillest music.

[a-spectacle-in-the-morning]

“Right in Front of You” -- Rafael Barba

Because I’m in the mood for some sweet stuff here’s a date with Barba that doesn’t go as anticipated, incredible street food, and Barba being the grumpy gentleman that he is.

Notes: This is a *sort of* follow up for this fic (not a necessary read for this one!) since people had very kind things to say about it despite all the grammar errors. Not that this is in any way free of grammar errors. Is this a weird jump in the relationship from the last one? Perhaps. Are you suddenly and inexplicably more sardonic in this one? Mhm. Did I give myself the time or have the energy amidst all my school work to fix these discrepancies? No, not really. In other words: apologies in advance.

--

It takes you a while to decide what to wear when you go out, and that decision is only worsened by the fact that your nights are usually unpredictable as a professional bar hopper. It’s a science, really. The block you start on, the weather, the friends you’re with; all factors. Tonight, however, you know exactly what to wear.  

Mostly because Barba sent you a very detailed itinerary for the evening. Dinner at a ridiculously expensive restaurant, Broadway show at six thirty, and home by ten. You both have work tomorrow and that means an early bedtime. After sorting through your pile of button-ups and dress pants there was really only one option.

It’s a gamble of an outfit and could easily be over the top, but it’s the most expensive thing you own. And if you’re being honest with yourself you’ve been hoping for an opportunity to wear it.  

Despite how incredible you look on the outside you’re a complete bundle of nerves on the inside. By the time Barba rings the doorbell to your apartment you feel like you’re going to throw up. Who takes a raincheck on drinks and turns it into dinner and a show? The kind of man that waits outside your building in a three-piece suit with flowers, apparently.  

“Hey,” you say, nodding your head towards his suit. “You look nice.”

“That was going to be my line,” he replies, standing a bit stiffly. He holds the flowers out for you to take.

“Thank you, sir.” You take the bouquet from him and press it up to your nose. “I’m a little afraid to ask how you knew that I like dahlias more than roses.”

Barba reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck as he says, “You just seem like a dahlia kind of person.”

“What? A little spiky but with beautiful and deep coloring?” you joke.

“Something like that,” he smiles and relaxes a bit.

“I’m gonna run these up and put them in a vase. Do we have enough time?”

“You’ve got five minutes,” he says, fiddling with his watch like he’s going to set a timer.

“I’ll be back in four,” you nearly yell over your shoulder as you rush back up to your building. “I ran cross country in high school!”

You’re back in seven and out of breath, but Rafael wasn’t really counting. He just grins when you return and the two of you begin the walk to the restaurant. When you get about a block away you start to worry.

“Is that a line for the place we’re going?”

“Probably, but I made a reservation weeks ago.”

So that’s why this date was so delayed.

When you get indoors Rafael goes up to the hostess and confidently says, “I have a reservation for two under Barba.”

The woman scrolls through her tablet and shakes her head. “Sorry, nothing under that name.”

Barba presses his brows together. “Oh, well, they should have been made around two weeks ago.”

She shakes her head again. “Sorry, sir. I don’t see anything here.”

He nods curtly and thanks her, turns, and leads you back outside by the small of your back. Once you’re on the sidewalk again he starts to rub at his right temple.

“I’m sorry. I thought I made the reservation. Damn it...”

He starts to mumble something about Carisi and intrusions so you grab both of his hands and squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone.”

When he nods his head but doesn’t respond you add, “That was nice of you not to badger the hostess. Harvard douchebags have a tendency to do that when things don’t go their way.”

He shakes his head at your quip. “I’ve worked plenty of part time jobs. I know not to be an asshole when someone doesn’t deserve it.”

“But you were an asshole to me the first time we met,” you shoot back.

“Exactly.”

“Hey! I was perfectly-”

“I know, I know. There's another place I’m thinking of, but it’s in the Bronx. We’ll have to take a cab.”

“Lead the way.”

In under half an hour you are once again following Barba’s lead as he swiftly presses through the streets. He walks like everyone you pass is trying to get in his way even though the foot traffic isn’t particularly bad tonight. The smell of garlic and spices suddenly overwhelms you and your stomach grumbles.

“I hope that smell is coming from wherever we’re going and I hope it’s close,” you whine a bit exaggeratedly.

He laughs. You’ve never heard Barba laugh enthusiastically. It’s kind of beautiful. “Right in front of you.” He points to a food cart across the street.  

La Kubanita, you read. There’s a short line, but nothing like the one from earlier.  

“How do you know about this place?” you ask, making some conversation as you wait.

“I grew up a few blocks from here. My mom would give me some money every once in a while and I would bring her back tamales.”

You give Barba a sideways glance. “I didn’t know you grew up in the Bronx.”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t tell you,” Barba says sardonically. “And nobody ever asks.”

“Rafa!”

Rafa?

“Dios mío,” Rafael mutters. “Cómo estás, Isabel?”

You look up a bit to the window of the truck to find an older woman absolutely beaming at Barba.

“Tú sabes que estoy bien. Quién es?” she asks, pointing in your direction. “Por fin conseguiste una cita?”

“Stop it Isa,” Rafael lightly scolds. “This is my coworker.”

“Alright,” she relents with a grin. “You want the usual?”

“Por favor,” Rafael responds.

You’re handed a couple take out boxes of warm food within minutes and you thank Isabel with a smile. You find a picnic table to sit at nearby and open the food to find three steaming hot and perfectly wrapped tamales.

As he opens his own box Barba says, “I’m not a huge fan of street food-”

“Shocking.”

Barba squints at you then continues, “But, I love this cart. I even brought some of their arroz con pollo home to my abuela once and she gave it her stamp of approval.”

“Alright, that is really high praise. I don’t think my grandma has approved of anything I have ever cooked or bought her. Or really anything I’ve ever done. You should have seen her face when I told her I wanted to work in law enforc-”

“We can unpack that later,” Barba interrupts, “but right now you’re going to stop thinking about your problems and try that tamale in front of you.”

You throw him a look, but pick up your fork and dig in. It is, undoubtedly, the best tamale you’ve ever had.  

“You win this round, Barba,” you concede between bites.

He looks up from his food. “I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”

“It’s always a game with you.”

“Is it?”

You pause, trying to decide if you want to maintain your nonchalance or admit something a little more personal. Fuck it.

“You’re tough to keep up with sometimes. Everything is in order. No nonsense. You’re effortlessly and brutally sarcastic- which is very sexy, by the way. Every conversation is a mini battle. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It’s just new. I’m not used to guys like you.”

You hold his gaze for a second longer, then busy yourself with unwrapping your second tamale.  

“Very sexy, hm?”

You snap your eyes back up to him to catch his shit-eating grin. “Really? That’s what you picked out of that?”

His smile somehow grows, and you can’t help the one spreading on your own face.  

“You should know after today that I don’t have it all put together,” he says, going back to his meal.

You gently kick one of his feet under the table. “Yeah, I finally have some proof that you’re human.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m fueled entirely by coffee like the rest of you?”

“Yes,” you nod in agreement. “Aside from the coffee.”

The two of you finish your meal while making casual conversation. When Rafael returns from throwing the garbage out he stops to look at his watch.

“It’ll take us about 30 minutes in this traffic to get back to Manhattan. We should probably head out. Are you ready to go?”

“Damn. I was just starting to get comfortable being totally, inappropriately overdressed. Maybe we should just skip the show.”

Barba rolls his eyes but holds out his arm for you to take. “I’ll leave you here if that’s what you want. I’m not missing Anastasia.”

You laugh, taking his arm and walking out towards the street to hail a taxi. As you wait you notice the sun is beginning to set and is casting the loveliest shade of yellow over everything. You catch Barba looking at you with an entirely contented expression and a slight smile ghosting his lips.  

That look alone is better than all the whiskey in the world.  

--

Here’s the thing folks, I haven’t written anything in Spanish in probably three or more years. I know there have got to be mistakes. I apologize. Blame my senior year Spanish teacher for making us watch soap operas more often than actually teaching us anything. And the name of the food cart is borrowed from a real Cuban food cart that I have never been to. I wasn’t creative enough to think of my own.  

Hopefully this was a decent follow up for “Woeful Wins and Whiskey”. I’m trying to get more confident with writing Barba. Trying being the key word. I’m always happy to read feedback, comments, and criticisms. And if anyone wants a third part let me know! I’m thinking more shenanigans with the SVU, maybe some struggles with defining the relationship..... 

[btflglitch]

HI! I’M CORY!

WHO AM I?

Hi, I'm Cory O'Brien! I got this job because I spent five years writing mythological dick jokes on a wordpress blog, and I have probably done more research on swearing than anyone without a PhD in linguistics. I'm decent at juggling, terrible at lying, and a fucking GOD at karaoke.

WHAT DO I DO?

My job is to write most of the events you see when you play the game, and to direct and edit the other writers. I love reading another writer's events and suddenly cracking up because they came up with something I didn't expect. My favorite thing I've personally written for the game is probably either Zoe's Cultist plotline from Second Term, or the very end of the Prank Masterz Halloween Plotline (the VERY end. Like, wait for the credits.) Overall, though, I really like writing Scott, Calculester, and Dahlia because they're so pure and I am a good boy at heart.

HOW’S WORKING AT MONSTER PROM?

I've been blown away by the fan response to Monster Prom. I was so worn out after doing so much writing for the first game that I kind of checked out for a while after release, and when I checked back in, I was like WHOA, WHAT HAPPENED?! Since then I've gotten the opportunity to meet fans in person, see people cosplaying characters and all that, and it's been fantastically surreal. The whole community is so lovely and supportive -- of us, and of each other -- and that's great to see. I also really like reading the Discord and seeing the ideas fans are pitching for the sequel. There's this one person in the discord, "clorpy", who is really blowing me away with their creativity! Keep up the good work, everyone!

[isolctions]

KIDADA ALANI WHITE + writing.

from a young age, kida had always loved reading and writing — to the point that she recalls her father saying that it’s what she picked up the most. and as a child, her parents always hauled her and her siblings to the library to pick out books for the week.

aside from library trips, kida also loved story time in grade school, and absolutely fuckin’ KILLED IT at popcorn reading. when lessons came for making little booklets to describe things in elementary school and writing up book reports in middle and high school, her teachers always noted how gifted she was with words.

while reading keeps the mind sharp, kida was largely interested in poetry and story telling. she even got the chance in high school to attend a seminar at NYU over the summer — but unfortunately, her mother’s diagnosis and sickness came shortly before, so money went instead to the treatments and hospital bills.

up until her mother’s passing, kida recalls bringing books to read for her and occasionally, reciting whatever grade A writing she’d done in english class to her mother. and for her birthday, the last gift her mom gave her was an empty journal to write her thoughts on. after her mother passed, though, and kida became involved with now ex-boyfriend / current nba superstar dominic stephens (see: the high school basketball player & head cheerleader girlfriend trope. see: prom king and queen trope. see: dom, the insecure & abusive little shit. see: traumatic loss, even more traumatic escape / subsequent break up. see: the shit is one DM away from the fan, but she’s better than that. on a good day.), she simply lost her shit for a little while. writing was the last thing on her mind, and neither was school. so she dropped out. not entirely by choice...but she did.

bartending had it’s moments and all, but it wasn’t a career for kida. like, she actually really hated it. she hated coming home smelling like different kinds of alcohol every night, hated the sun beating her home and having to adjust her schedule — dinner at 5am, bed time at 7am, sleeping until 3pm, rinse and repeat. and most of all, she hated the way people spoke to her, making her feel as if she were below them or uneducated. after spending years stuck in the same shitty apartment with the same shitty job, kida decided to lessen her shifts and embark on night classes: first to get her GED, and then, to take writing courses.

between ages twenty-two and twenty-three, kidada’s been studying her ass off to pass her courses and meet the requirements for the standard writing program at a local community college. sometimes, she’d be pulling back to back classes and bar shifts, running on little to no sleep when it came to school and work. in addition to her courses, she also wrote a short story, called ‘i wrote this for you’ — it was a collection of shorts and prose, dedicated to the memory of her mother, and speaking in first person to the person that kida wanted to be. it made it to a few literary blogs before being showcased on a magazine highlighting rising authors. highlight of her life!

because of the success of i wrote this for you, now at the ripe age of twenty-four, kida got invited (again) to study a master course in writing. it costs a fuck ton of money. but, it is her dream. so while she cannot stand to pour drinks and cater parties another day...sis gotta do what she’s gotta do. so while she’s not full on bartending at your local dive bar anymore, she’s kind of stuck in between attempting to publish things here and there to multiple publishing companies (it’s not 100% effective), studying and attending her courses, and freelancing her drink services out to people who need mixologists for weddings and parties and events and whatnot.

so yes. that is where we are with kidada. it took me well over five years and multiple changes to her backstory and character to achieve my desire to write her further, but we finally here! truthfully, there are some things i omitted for the sake of consistency (such as: she still has like, five siblings and very big on family. but her would be eight years old, i think?? daughter with dominic is something i battle with writing and keeping up with so yes, i’m re-writing that entirely & more than likely doing away with it. will arin be relevant to certain ships, mainly those from past blogs? absolutely. but in main, i’m not very sold on continuing to make that a known thing — and dominic himself was not as fleshed out of an npc as i’d like for him to be, and this re-work basically doesn’t align with what i wrote in 2016 so we re-writing him too.), and the dahlia verse where she’s a former assassin that nearly got murdered is still an AU i’m trying to write at any time ‘cause that was cool as shit, but for now? this is the peak of my galaxy brain for her world, and i’m content with keeping things simple.

in short: write with kida pls. she’s cool now, i swear.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Eleven: I Think I Knew

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Lanaguage, smut, oral, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, brief ass eating, (like REALLY brief) a little angst, fluff, lying, harassment, gaslighting, praise, a little dirty talk

A/N: smuttiest chapter yet! This was so much fun to write, I ended up completely losing myself in it. Shoutout to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading and also for helping me get this done! I was really doubting myself on this chapter and you really talked me through it and helped me do it so much. You’ll never know how grateful I am dude!

@lizey-thornberry as your wanted to be tagged.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, before his hand pulled away, now watching as I stood up, my cell clenched between my fingers a little tighter than necessary as I stared at the now blank screen. Anger and confusion shooting through my brain at a million miles an hour, heart pounding in my rib cage and palms more damp than they should be. Who the fuck was doing this? Why were they doing this? How did some stranger have my phone number?

“Dahlia, who was it?” He asked again, struggling to untwist himself from my comforter to sit beside me, running his hand over his dishevelled bed hair. Any other night I’d find how his messy dark hair fell into his eyes sexy, or how cute he looked when he was still half asleep, but not that night. No, that night I felt an overwhelming sense of unease.

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering closed as I tossed my cell back onto my bedside table, “They hung up when they heard your voice, though.”

A small pause as he absorbed my words, a small cock of his head as if working out some kink in his neck, a minor clearing of his throat, his voice was clearer as he asked, “Okay? Are you implying something?”

I turned to look at him, teeth sinking into my bottom lip before letting out a sigh, turning around, so I was facing him entirely before speaking, “You know Gale Weathers’ stupid book? Sid, Randy and I were told it might be being made into a movie. If it does, it’s releasing sometime next year.”

“So…” Mickey’s voice trailed off as he looked at me expectantly, one eyebrow slightly arched.

“So, since the possibility got announced, Sidney’s been receiving a lot of weird phone calls, but they’d talk to her using that…” I swallowed a little, shaking my head, as though I was trying to shake the memory of Billy Loomis calling me using that voice, “Modulator. But they speak to her, whoever this is doesn’t actually speak to me. Just kind of breathes until they hang up.”

“Sweetheart, I think you’re overthinking this a little. How do you know it’s someone trying to prank you? It could just be someone calling the wrong number. How many of these calls have you had?”

I hesitated, looking down, so my hair covered my face and mumbling, “Five or six?”

I heard Mickey’s teeth lock together, and my head snapped up at the sound to see him staring at my wall, looking more pissed off than I’d ever seen him. “Jesus, what?”

He looked back at me, expression quickly smoothing out as he sent me a half-hearted smile, his hands moving to rest on the back of my neck as he said as softly as he could manage, “I don’t think it’s the same thing as Sidney’s getting.”

“You don’t?” I asked hopefully, hand flying up to rest over his hand, my fingers curling around his.

“No, I don’t. Maybe we should get you a new number.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I dropped my hand, picking up my cell and deciding to turn it off. Ghostface was gone, I didn’t need to live in fear anymore. Of course, with the rights to the book potentially being made into a movie, people completely detached and uninvolved are going to try and harass the survivors, it was in human nature to be curious. It was still bullshit and unfair that anyone tried it, though.

But as it would turn out, Mickey would be right. It wasn’t the same calls Sidney was receiving, or Randy for that matter.

“You’re stressed.” I felt his hands move to rest on my shoulders, pulling me back against his chest and his lips pressing gently to my pulse, making me sigh and my head fall on his shoulder. I could feel his smile against my skin and I turned my head, my forehead resting against his cheek, “This overthinking isn’t healthy, Dahl.”

“Tell me about it.” I muttered, making him chuckle under his breath, lips gently kissing my neck. I lifted my head, so I was looking at him, watching as his head tilted slightly as he took in my gaze with a questioning hum. “I really like you, Mickey.” I said softly, and he smiled at me, expression softening as he said sincerely, “I really like you too.”

Looking back now, I don’t know if he meant it, at least at that moment. But with how he looked at me, how his brown eyes softened like melting chocolate and his heart stuttered against my back as I said the words, I like to think he was telling the truth.

Before long, I was kissing him again, adjusting myself, so I was straddling him on my bed with my hands knotted in his thick, dark hair and grinding myself down against him, desperately needing him to take away the memory of that stupid phone call in a way only he could.

“Dahl- Dahl, stop.” He breathed against my mouth, his fingers gripping my hips tightly. I pulled back straight away, attempting to remove myself from him and mumbling apologies, but he quickly shook his head, his hand moving to tuck some stray hair behind my ear, “No, no. I was just um… going to ask if you wanted to try something?”

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him skeptically. “What?”

“We don’t have to do it, but I just wanted to do something for you. If you’re ready, no pressure.”

His smile was so charming, so beautiful, I couldn’t help but smile back. I knew already what he was implying, his eyes kept dropping down as he spoke, and I nodded my head, feeling a little nervous. This was a good way to take my mind off of stuff, and I cared about him. Cared about him more than I thought possible. It was weird, considering I hated this cocky asshole four months ago and now here he was in an instant, laid between my legs with his fingers dancing under the elastic of my panties, his brown eyes looking up at me for confirmation to which I quickly granted with a nod and a nervous smile which made him laugh again, though this time it was a little less playful and a lot more serious.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, kissing my inner thigh gently as he looked at me as if he was studying my face.

“I’m sure.” I said confidently, surprised at my own voice. It sounded different, maybe it was the excitement. Maybe it was because I could already feel how wet I was. Maybe it was because I had the man who was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen kissing my inner thigh, desperate to taste me.

He gently, slowly, pulled my panties down my legs, eyes leaving my face to settle on my pussy, his head resting gently against my thigh, his hair tickling my sensitive skin.

“Beautiful.” He said softly, and before I could respond with some kind of sarcastic come back, I felt it.

I felt his broad, flat tongue lick up my slit, making me gasp and move back instinctively, regardless of how nice it felt. He chuckled slightly, eyes darker than ever as he asked if I was okay, pulling back to look at me.

“I'm fine, I’m sorry!” I breathed, urging him to do it again, to which he obliged with a small chuckle, this time hooking his strong arms around my knees, placing them over his shoulders for better access.

His lips grazed up my thigh again, the sensation making me want to drop my head against the pillow, but I didn’t want to miss watching him.

I felt his tongue before I saw him move, he was much gentler this time, using the tip of his tongue to gently drag up my slit and stopping at my clit, softly repeating the action until I was beginning to writhe and sigh.

He smiled up at me, his fingers stroking my thigh gently as I felt his lips wrap around my clit.

“Oh!” I couldn’t help but gasp out, body jolting and my hands moving to thread through his hair as I felt his soft lips suckling at my clit, looking down at him to see his brown eyes fixed on my face.

He hummed around my clit, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through my body and making my back arch off the bed, my fingers tightening in his hair as I whispered out his name under my breath.

He pulled back a little, chuckling as his hand moved from my thigh to press against my stomach, forcing my ass against the bed.

“You gonna try and stay still for me?” He asked, resting his head against my leg as his fingers dragged down my torso. He pressed the pads of his forefinger against my clit, applying a small amount of pressure that made me instantly eager for more. I nodded my head, feeling myself clench around nothing, and he slid his fingers toward my hole, eyebrows raising a touch as he commented, “Look how wet you are for me. You're fucking drenched and I’ve hardly touched you. Feeling a little pent-up?” His tone was playful, teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Do you always talk this much?” I mumbled, wanting nothing more than to push myself against his face, needing to feel more contact. His fingers were nestled just inside of me, feeling the bare heat of my arousal coating the tips of his fingers.

“What, you don’t like it when I talk to you?” His fingers moved a little, making me let out an agitated whine when it wasn’t enough.

“Mickey-“

I was cut off by the sensation of two of his fingers plunging into me, the feeling making me gasp loudly, eyes fluttering closed as my head tipped back. I could practically see his smile behind my closed lids as he curled his fingers upward, his mouth attaching back to my clit and beginning to suck indulgently and making my pussy clench his fingers tightly.

“Fuck, d-don’t stop!” I begged him, trying to remember not to move, not to adjust myself or force him to apply any more pressure. He knew exactly what he was doing, somehow already knowing my body better than I knew it myself.

He pulled his lips back for a second just to mumble, “Think I’m gonna?” before the strong tip of his tongue danced over my aching clit again, making me let out another cry of pleasure.

My heels dug into his back as I whimpered and panted out his name, feeling the tightly wound coil in my stomach about to snap. He was right, I was more pent-up and stressed out than I’d realized, and Mickey’s fingers and tongue were already starting to make it melt away, twisting the agitation into pleasure and stripping the thoughts away and turning them into nothing short of ecstasy.

I knew I wouldn’t last long the first time he did this, but how fast I was about to fall apart was fucking ridiculous.

I felt his lips abandon my clit, but his fingers didn’t stop pumping and curling as he looked up at me, watching my chest heave and my stomach tighten, unable to stop myself from arching off the bed.

“Not yet, Dahli.” I heard his voice, heard his command, but I didn’t want to listen to him. I needed this, needed to feel this. I ignored him, so fucking close, and immediately felt his fingers abandon me.

“Y-you- why the f-fuck did you-“ I stumbled over my words pathetically, forehead creasing as I clenched helplessly around nothing.

“Trust me.” His voice was even, melodic as I lifted my head to glare down at him. I opened my mouth to protest, but when my eyes touched his face, fuck. He looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen him. His lips and chin glistened in the dull light flooding in from outside with my arousal, his eyes were dark and almost manic and his wet fingers were gripping my thigh tightly, “Beg me for it.”

I let out a confused laugh, heart still hammering in my chest as I questioned him, “B-beg you for it? I’m not gonna-“

“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asked, dropping my legs from his shoulders and making me frown at him again.

I nodded my head once.

Mickey’s fingers moved again, dipping inside of me then rubbing over my clit, using my wetness as lubricant and being nowhere near as gentle this time as he repeated his words again, smiling cockily as my mouth fell open with a loud moan.

“Beg. For. It.”

I was stubborn, but I’m only fucking human.

My legs were shaking, he used his other hand to push my thigh down until it hit the mattress as he used his fingers to rub over my pussy, the action making me twitch and groan like the pathetic mess he was turning me into, the one I didn’t know I was capable of being for anyone.

I obliged him without much more prompting.

“Please- please.” I whispered.

“What? Can’t hear you.” He bent his head down, licking up a long stripe from my ass to my clit, my body jolting sharply at the action as I cursed out loudly and begged again, “Please, please let me cum! I can’t- I can’t take it.” I rambled out pleas and begged him incessantly, on and on, a fucking broken record, until he smiled up at me, moving his hand to my other thigh and forcing my legs as far apart as I could manage.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He said softly, and before I could respond, his mouth was attached to my clit and he sucked.

“Oh, fuck.” I practically shouted as his mouth and tongue attacked my clit, sucking forcefully and harshly, the pressure so good it was almost painful. It is that kind of burning sensation that makes it impossible to string together a sentence, that makes my eyes unfocus and numb tingling pins and needles radiate in my limbs. My hands yanked and pulled at his hair before finding his shoulders, my nails digging into his back and cutting into his soft flesh, making him hiss and moan against my throbbing cunt, urging him on to suck harder, his tongue dancing across me.

He pulled back for the briefest of moments to nod up at me before continuing, I took the nod as permission and I came. God, at long last I came, and I came harder than I ever had before on his face, almost sobbing out his name as my body shook and spasmed as I felt the coil completely snap and with it, me as well. Throat felt thick and heavy, eyes felt glassier and wetter than they should, hips moving the smallest amount, wringing out every single bit that I could on his mouth.

Mickey kept going, even after I tried pushing his head away. I felt his tongue move to dip into my cunt, practically drinking my juices as I continued to twitch and writhe under him and had to beg him to stop.

He did stop, when he was done, not when I wanted him to be. Something about it was so hot, the fact that even this act that was meant for my pleasure was still done in so many ways on his explicit terms, making me beg and not stopping until he had his fill. He was lifting his head from between my legs and smiling at me, not bothering to wipe his mouth before he crawled up on top of me, his lips attaching to mine. I moaned as I tasted myself on his tongue and mouth, unable to not notice how hard he was as he pressed himself against my thigh.

“Good girl, Dahli.” He said softly against my mouth, the praise making me preen from under him and press my bare core over his clothed erection. He let out a faltering grunt as I did so before pulling his head away, his hand coming up to press against my shoulder and push me into the bed. “Not tonight, I know you’re not ready.”

“I’m not,” I confirmed, my voice still trembling before I quickly added on, “But I want to… Help.”

His eyebrows furrowed a little before he caught on, eyes widening in realization.

“You really don’t have to, baby.” His forehead rested against mine as he spoke, and I could feel him against my bare pussy through his briefs, throbbing and hot. I knew I wanted to, I wanted to more than anything.

My shaking hands pushed against his shoulders and he moved off me, rolling onto his back, so I could move on top of him, my hands resting on his chest as I knelt over him, my knees either side of his thighs.

“Let me.” I insisted, and he raised his hands, palms up, and grinned up at me.

I wanted to return the favour. He made me feel the best I’d ever felt. I know he’d had more than his fair share of girls do this for him, but I didn’t care. I knew he cared about me, in his way anyway, and I knew how long it had been for him.

I edged down the bed, fingers tugging down his briefs quickly before I lost my confidence. He raised his hips to help me and I quickly discarded them to the side and my teeth bit down into my bottom lip as I sucked in an uneasy breath when I took him in.

It dawned on me that I’d never seen Mickey completely naked until that moment, and if I'm being honest I was mad that it had taken me this long, especially after seeing what he was packing.

Mickey was a solid seven inches, above average and slightly intimidating in terms of thickness. I knew not all dicks looked the same, just as not all pussies looked the same, but I doubted anyone in the world had one as pretty as his, not that I’d ever want to find out regardless.

“Are you okay?” I glanced up at him, he looked a little concerned. He sat up in my bed, leaning toward me and pressing his hand against my cheek gently, reiterating that I didn’t have to if I wasn’t ready.

I shook my head with a small smile, my hand moving up to press over his. “I want to.” I said softly, my other hand moving between us to gently grasp his length, laughing a little as he jumped at the feeling of my cold hands and I whispered, “I’m sorry,” before pressing my lips against his for a second.

He knew I was nervous, but guessed as to why incorrectly. I had no idea what I was fucking doing. He caught on fairly quickly, though, his back resting against my headboard and his hands moving to settle in my hair as I experimentally slid my hand upward from his base.

I heard his breath hitch, his fingers tightening a little, and I smiled, “Like that?”

He laughed a little, eyes fixed on my hand, and he nodded, “Yeah, like that. Don’t be scared to add a little pressure.”

I did so, flexing my fingers and silently relishing in the soft hum that left his mouth.

“Give me your hand.” He took my hand off him, bringing it to his mouth where he kissed my palm before licking it, from the bottom of my palm to the ends of my fingers while looking into my eyes, and carefully settling it back around his cock, nodding his head for me to continue.

Fuck, why was that so hot?

I wanted this now, more than before. I continued to gently pump his cock in my hand, watching his reactions carefully as his chest unsteadily rose and fell, and his hand fell out of my hair as he settled between his legs, still carefully moving my hand as I softly licked over his tip.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling encouraged as I moved off the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously, eyes opening when he felt my hand leave him, adjusting himself, so he was now sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor, I dropped to my knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his as one of my hands rested on his thigh and the other held his length in my hand.

“I want to do this right. You’ll tell me if I'm doing it wrong, right?”

“Sweetheart, how many ways do you think there are to suck a dick? Do whatever feels right, don’t worry. I’ll talk you through it.” His eyes were dark, dripping with arousal. He felt painfully hard and hot in my hand, throbbing from lack of stimulation, and all I wanted was to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.

I didn’t respond, instead tentatively taking him into my mouth, my hand sliding down to his base as I took in as much of him as I could. I hummed around his length, eyes open and watching his face as I slowly began to bob my head. I’d seen porn, I wasn’t entirely clueless. But this was completely different, and I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed feeling his pulsing, hot cock filling up my mouth.

“Jesus, fuck!” Mickey gasped out, hand falling into my hair and gripping it tightly. I felt him tense a little as my tongue made contact with his cock, and he said softly, “God, you look so fucking good right now. Grip it a little harder, it’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle- fuck.”

His fingers pulled at my hair a little as I experimentally took him a little further, gagging softly as his dick touched the back of my throat. His hips unconsciously bucked, making me splutter a little around him, and he began apologizing, “Shit, Dahli, I’m sorry.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at him, here he was, telling me I didn’t have to be so gentle with him, and he was doing the same with me. I wasn’t glass, I wasn’t going to break.

I tried to get myself into a rhythm, my hand moving along with my mouth as he cursed a little, praising me as he told me, “Your mouth's so fucking hot, fuck baby.”

He was holding back, something he clearly wasn’t used to doing. I could tell, and I really didn’t want him to. I knew I was inexperienced, and I also knew that that knowledge is what turned him on even more, his hands were resting on my head, his eyes fixed on mine as I gradually grew more confident.

“It’s good, fuck. Relax your throat a little, breathe through your nose and- Oh, God.” I did as he told me, then being able to take him down my throat and make him tense as I did so. I gagged softly around his cock, my fingernails digging into his thigh as I did so.

He couldn’t seem to help himself, pushing my head down roughly while his head fell back, making me choke and splutter again as he took me by surprise.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, here I- I’ll- hands up here, see,” his hands left my hair, raising them as if in surrender. I wanted to laugh, but I just rolled my eyes up at him as he continued to talk, “-Just, Christ, please don’t fucking stop, your mouth is so-“

His voice trailed off as I continued to suck and squeeze my fingers around him, finally finding my pace as I took him eagerly down my throat, hollowing my cheeks and sucking slowly, from his base up to his leaking tip.

“You’ve done this before, fuck, you must have.” He commented, hands falling to rest on the mattress, “You don’t gotta rush, baby, take your time-“

It was obvious he was worried, I could tell by his strained tone that he was afraid of doing the wrong thing, afraid of pushing me too far. I also knew I was not giving the best head he’d ever had. But I knew him, I knew that because he cared about me, this was different for him, more intimate.

I pulled him from my mouth, looking up at him and saying, “Mickey, I’m fine, shut up,” before grabbing his hands and placing them back into my messed up hair, taking him back into my mouth hungrily, hearing him laugh down at me breathlessly.

He mumbled something I didn’t quite hear under his breath, something like, “Hungry little whore,” but I ignored him. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue as I continued to blow him, growing more and more confident by the second before he let out a loud grunt, beginning to slowly grind his hips against my mouth, halting when my nose touched his pubic bone.

I knew he was close.

“Fuck, Dahlia.” He whispered, hands holding onto my hair so hard it was a surprise he didn’t rip it out from the roots as he gasped out my name a few more times, his hips gently grinding against my face. Without warning, I felt the hot ribbons squirting into my mouth, filling it up rapidly with the salty taste. I reminded myself to breathe through my nose as he came, trying to swallow carefully, but some spills from around his cock and out my mouth, dribbling down my chin, my eyes beginning to sting with tears as he finished.

“Fuck, baby.” His hands let go of my hair and I pulled him out of my mouth, looking up at him proudly.

“Look at you, all proud of yourself.” Mickey’s voice was a little breathless as smiled down at me, his thumb wiping my cheeks and chin gently, “Come up here and kiss me.”

“But you just… you know, in my mouth.” I protested, struggling to my feet, so I could go and brush my teeth.

He rolled his eyes, pulling me to him by my hips as he mumbled, “Don’t fucking give a shit,” and pulled my head down to his, pressing his lips to mine roughly, his blunt fingers digging into my flesh. I moaned against his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled me on top of him, my legs wrapping around his waist as his tongue swirled around my mouth hungrily, tasting himself and sighing softly before pulling back to look at me carefully, eyes still bright and almost manic.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand brushing some of my hair from my eyes as I nodded, a shameless grin on my face.

“I’m better than okay, Mickey.” I confirmed, pressing my forehead against his, “That was amazing.”

“It was.” He agreed, his eyes fluttering closed before he continued, “I’m glad I’m able to make you feel better.”

I hesitated for a moment, pulling back to look at his face, my hand trailing across his cheekbone. He hummed softly at the contact, eyes remaining closed and his fingers dancing across my back.

I think at that moment, I knew I loved Mickey. I knew just how much I adored him, craved him and just how far I’d be willing to go for him, but I didn’t say it.

Maybe it was a fear of not knowing if he loved me too, a part of me remaining scared and doubtful that any of this was real, so I kept my mouth shut.

Or maybe I was terrified that if I said it, it would be true, and I’d be opening myself up to have my heart completely shattered by the person who’d been the one to put it back together again.

[hecohansen31]

Preying On You:

(Vampire! Sojourn! Michael+Reader):

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I have a lot to say before this fic so please excuse my sorry ass, for blabbering and let’s get this over with!

First of all this fic is dedicated to the lovely @sojournmichael (she is literally the sweetest person ever, and like I believe that humanity has a chance because she is alive) since she is actually a fan of vampire Michael so... hope you’ll enjoy this babe!

(Also big shoutout to @moonanonwriting who ispired a lot of vampire asks, Eva’s page, she is amazing and an aesthetic goddess, so be sure to check her out!).

(And also to @dyns33 who has a vampire foursome which is *chief kiss*, love you babe!).

Now personal thing: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOU FRIENDS ALONE AT NIGHT (both males and females)! I have been left a shit ton of times by my friend alone and although I am still here to tell the tale, it costs you nothing to accompany your friends and avoid them being alone and you might save a life.

Also the vampire society in this fic is inspired to the one of “The Black Dagger Brotherhood” (those are my favorite vampires books, highly suggested, if you are looking for smut and hot males!); if you need any more info on this world, please let me know both in asks or DMs.

I would love if you could leave an heart or a reblog (mostly because lately my fics are dying so...) and if you ever want to talk with me about it, my DMs are eternally open and my asks can also be anonymous, I love my shy babes!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a girls’ night out turn out much more bloody than what ou expected, but there might be some advantages to meeting a vampire...

WORDS: 6,6 K

WARNINGS: Unprotected (DON’T FORGET CONDOMS, KIDS), Rough Sex, Dub-Con, Blood Consumption and Blood Kink (THERE WILL BE BLOOD, KIDS!), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Kidnapping (and mention of sexual trafficking, alongside use of drugs to kidnap), Michael being a bit of a stalker...

She wasn’t supposed to be alone on her way back to the train station, after her girls’ night out she had had.

Her friends had promised her that they would all be taking the train and then go back at home, at a decent hour of the night.

But what actually happened was that her friends actually leaft her alone, because of boys they had just met.

She had thought that the magical experience of fucking somebody at a beach party would be less entertaining than actually bringing your friend, safe and sound at home, avoiding her the walk of shame, between drunk and high people, not to talk about the perverts that without no alcohol would have taken her in an angle and pushed an hand over her mouth…

She tried not to think about what might happen to a girl in a party dress, a bit too short and provocative (still she was sure she could have worn her most conservative dress and she would have still gotten idiots whistling at her) with nothing in her little purse (she damned the choice, certainly comfortable for dancing but she could have barely fitted inside the little clutch a little bit more than her ID, a box of tissues, her keys and her phone) that she could use as a weapon.

At first she had tried to beg her friends but they had just waved her away, a bit plastered from all the alcohol they had in their veins, clinging to the guys they had chosen for the night, exchanging glances which clearly said “we are getting laid, tonight”.

“Girls, I seriously don’t feel like I can go back to the train station, alone” she had tried to insist, pleading with her eyes her friends and their one-night-stand, trying to do her best to get them to understand her own worries…

… but apparently being drunk took all the compassion away from your soul.

They had denied immediately her request and the two guys had told her to “shoo away” and find herself somebody, which she wouldn’t do, since not only she had some respect for herself but she didn’t feel attracted by any of the guys there, alongside being unable to enjoy herself at those parties.

But she had decided to give it a chance after her friends had begged her to go, calling her “an asocial dumbass” and she had decided to try it, just to make her friends happy.

Now she realized that the next time she would have closed the door in their faces gladly.

…if she lived to see another day.

She knew she was being dramatic: nothing would be happening to her.

But still she didn’t feel, safe in the slightest.

The journey was in plain light and it was barely ten minutes if she walked fast, alongside being crowded because of all the clubs in it.

But she still felt threatened by even the slightest smile sent on her way, judging it was better just to fake being on her phone with her headphones on.

She was halfway through a very serious recount of her day to her imaginary friend, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

She honestly didn’t want to turn around, expecting it to be either some guy wanting to flirt with her, or some drunk guy asking her if he had seen his friend, when he was right behind him.

But she reasoned with herself too late and as soon as she got all those ideas on who it might have been, she just turned around to be met with an elegant middle-aged woman, sporting grey hair and  wearing an elegant vintage outfit.

She seemed so out of place, both for the fact that she was much older than the guys she was with, but her entire outfit gave the idea that she wasn’t there to dance the night away.

She had this dark and off vibe that clearly shouldn’t have belonged to a middle-aged and smiling woman, but she blamed her paranoid brain for that sensation (she had even felt like a tree was threatening her with its shadow).

She smiled shyly at the woman, who instead was extremely open and straight up assumed the lead of the situation, grabbing gently her arm.

-I am so sorry to bother you, but my dog has run away and won’t come back to my car… so I was thinking that you might help me with guiding him back to it…- although it seemed ridiculous the lady smelled of dog, and she looked over her car, which was right in front of the crowded club she had been stopped at.

It didn’t seem a dangerous situation, in the slightest, mostly because she tried to release any tension in her body, thinking she was just being too paranoid.

Nothing would happen… and even if it would… she had her phone, she was in crowded and illuminated place and her attacker was an old lady, which she could easily overpower if she turned out to be a drug-dealer.

-… oh ok, but…- she looked at her phone to check the hour, realizing she could spare only five minutes for the “dog mission”, since she wanted to arrive at the train station a bit early in order not to miss the last train of the night -… I am a bit … late to a thing-.

-It will take you just a minute! – the old lady smiled, pleading her with her blue eyes -… and I will be eternally grateful to you for saving my little Dahlia-.

She just took a deep breath and followed the woman which swiftly walked over to the next side of the road, meanwhile she kept on checking her phone and she was immensely relieved to see the dog, a small white poodle, who looked more scared than her, and which immediately the woman tried to calm down.

The woman moved on his other side, meanwhile signaling to her to keep her position, trying to distract the dog from her, and when the dog started slowly barking towards its owner, happily and with too much energy, she snatched him up, almost dying under its weigh.

The poodle might have seemed small, but it actually weighted much more than she had imagined.

But thankfully the woman, its owner, was in front of her, holding out her hands in order to make her leave there the puppy which, although moved a bit, clearly uncomfortable, seemed unthreatening and didn’t try to escape again in her owner’s hands and neither to bite her.

She smiled at the old woman and made to turn around, but the woman just grabbed her arm, this time more roughly and immediately she felt the bad feeling in her gut return.

-Would you stay for a few minutes? Just to make sure that Dahlia won’t run away- she mumbled, meanwhile smiling gently at her, easing the bad feeling in her stomach, which got her to nod, since she was already in time to arrive early at the station, and moved on the other side of the car, the dark one, near the bushes, to open the door and let the woman put the dog in its cage.

The music was a bit too high and the choruses of drunk people didn’t help: she herself found at unease and a bit hazed by the entire atmosphere so she didn’t see the hand that came to her face with a tissues smelling weirdly.

It suffocated her immediately and she wasn’t able to do anything else but try to fight weakly, but quickly darkness took over, all of her senses shutting off and she fell in her worst nightmare.

As she woke up, she soon realized two things: she was blindfolded and naked.

Perfect: now old ladies were kidnapping people for sexual trafficking.

Was she on a “Law & Order SVU” episode?

But most importantly… was she seriously humoring this entire situation?

She had just been kidnapped and worst of all she would probably be used for sexual stuff she had seen on TV, and she was restrained to something which looked like a bed, without the mattress on it, since the coldness of metal bit in her skin.

She started hysterically crying, alternating it with laughs, at the absurdity of the situation and damning herself for not having trusted her guts.

If she ever came out of this, she would absolutely only trust her damned gut.

After the hysterics downed, she started trying to test the restrain, trying to do the movie thing of thrusting up her hands, but she immediately realized that they weren’t chained with rope, but with metal again, trying the same with her legs, which were more powerful but she was only able to thrust up a bit.

After this, she tried getting her hands out of the handcuffs but she was only able to scratch her skin.

This got her to stop anything and go back to her crying, immediately falling down the rabbit hole of overthinking, completely losing her mind, and tears spilling over her cheeks, her make-up ruined, meanwhile she tried to at least to avoiding sharing her shameful naked state, clinging her legs closer, and trying to crunch herself on her side, to ease her breathing.

She was just a few step away from a panic attack.

And then it all got worse, because she heard voices outside the room she was in.

She immediately got quiet, pushing up her ears in order to listen what was going on, thinking it might help her.

“My lord, the girl is waiting for you” perfect she was in a high-end brothel…

“Madeline, I already told you…” the tone seemed annoyed and tired and she almost cheered at the thought that he wouldn’t maybe… do what he was supposed to be doing with her…

“I know!” the tone of the woman was clearly saying that she knew they already had this conversation, but she wasn’t done “… but you will grow more and more weak if you don’t feed”.

Wait! Feed?!

Where the heck had she ended up being at…?

Was this a cannibal family?

She honestly preferred the high-end brothel option…

“I… am scared…” he mumbled shyly, almost childlike “… I have never done this before, with an alive being and not a blood bag”.

This was getting even more creepy.

She tried to close her eyes and repeat continuously “I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up…” but she didn’t open her eyes in her bed, and the feelings of the metal burning in her legs and hands hurt her, meanwhile the roughness of the blindfold pinched her and irritated the skin of her lids.

She couldn’t see much with the blindfold but the room in which she was in was immersed of red light, which brought her back to the hypothesis about it being all an high-end brothel… for clients with peculiar taste.

“She is restrained, my sweet boy, she won’t hurt you” the woman seemed to have moved closer to the boy, who instead just yelped softly “… just go and satiate your need, my lord”.

And with this being said she heard the swishing of the door and the soft steps of the old lady, Madeline and the stumbling of the boy, who quickly came in front of her, since his breath seemed closer.

She heard him take a deep breath, after having sniffed for a bit the air in the room (she was sur it was pretty stinky because she had sweated off all her anxiety and body liquids).

“I can see that she is to your liking” mumbled the woman, proudly and she just felt even more ashamed by the entire thing; she was almost angry for being treated like an object, being judged in her most vulnerable form by two strangers “… I thought you would have loved such a virginal look”.

Hadn’t she thought it was better to be unresponsive and hadn’t she been restrained she would have gladly fought against the two of them, for that treatment.

“Madeline, leave us” his voice from bothered and childlike had grown much darker and deeper and she couldn’t help a thrill from disappearing under her skin.

The worst thing was that she didn’t know if it was because of fear or arousal, which had started growing between her legs.

Perfect timing.

She heard the door closing and almost wanted to scream for the lady to come back, knowing perfectly that nothing good would be coming.

He moved closer to her on whichever surface she was propped on.

She immediately shrank away from him, pulling on the restraints, to push herself away to avoid any contact with him and he sensed it, an hand swiftly pushing herself on her face, caressing it gently to calm her down, but she just started sobbing, feeling like it might just make the things seem just worse.

-…. I am not going to hurt you, little thing- he mumbled, his hands moving gracefully, his other one joining his twin on the other side of her face, cupping gently her cheeks, as if he was trying to take a good look at her face -… you are so beautiful-.

She tried to take deep breaths, but the constriction of the restraints made her feel too caged to breath properly, meanwhile a panic attack was shaking her body, colors exploding under her eyes and she scrunched them closer, trying to avoid taking a glance to her assaulter.

-… but the fact that you are scared is making your delightful smell appear much more bitter, and I have a sweet tooth-.

How could he joke on something so dangerous?

This got rage coming oozing from her.

She fought, twist her hands and crunching her legs closer so that she might hit him with them, but nothing seemed to work, his hold became powerful, squishing her cheeks and he maneuvered himself so that he could stay on her and stop all her possibility of movement.

-… and now rage… it has a salty smell- he mumbled, meanwhile he tried to restrain her more softly, noticing (or maybe smelling?) her discomfort -… we need you to relax, little bird-.

-Don’t call me pet names- she gritted between her teeth, spitting out, thankful they hadn’t shut her mouth, although she feared he might after her little stunt.

-I don’t think that you are on the position to make demands- he intimidated her, his body suddenly being pushed on her naked one, the soft fabric he wore gently tickling her body and again… arousal shot through her veins -… much better, little fledging, I like the thought of my preys being in the throes of pleasure, meanwhile I feed from them-.

-Whatever you have in mind dirty bastard, I will make your life a living hell, when I get out of here- she pushed again, the chain not relenting, but he gently very gently moved some of her hair away from her face, a gesture which took her breath away.

-I am not the bad guy here, pretty girl- his tone had lowered an octave -… I don’t intend to make you feel bad in the slightest, I want you to actually enjoy this-.

-Untie me and let me kick your balls- she ordered her voice becoming much more high-pitched, hearing a laugh rumble on his chest which was pressing against hers -… that would make me feel much better-.

-That seems pleasurable only for you, my dear- he was now completely laying on her, his body pressing softly into her, with much more insistence than she was used, but her body didn’t seem to mind it, her entire features relaxing under him -… and I am actually working on our conjoined pleasures-.

-I am restrained, taken here against my will and scared as fucked- she replied, her hands making compulsive moves to accentuate her situation -… I don’t know how I can enjoy any of this-.

-Some people enjoy restraints- he said with a tone which said that he clearly did, and a smirk she could hear hinted in his words -… and I assure that no harm will come to your way, and to prove this I will unlace your blindfold, so you might calm down a bit-.

-What about my handcuffs? – she tried, smirking slightly or trying to, unsure of what getting her blindfold off might mean; he could try to kill her now that she knew his face, but also it brought some relief to her panicked state, although she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see whatever her assaulter looked like -… you are not going to kill me if I see your face?-.

-I stated that no harm will come your way and I will swear on anything unholy I know in my heart- except the “unholy part” of the discourse, everything seemed honest and sacred, enough that she let herself trust him, since her body was already on its way to succumb to him.

He unlaced the knot behind her blindfold, which she soon realized was just a rough piece of fabric, but she still kept her eyes closed, breathing slowly, trying to regain her composure and finally face him.

Her eyes slowly opened, adapting themselves to the soft red light in the room, which filled the room, sculpting even more his elegant traits.

Because what she had in front of herself was a god.

Perfectly soft blond hair, which gained a strawberry dye in them thank to the red light, meanwhile his face was elegantly sculpted, with traits soft and sharp, highlighting its perfect skin, smooth enough for her to want to touch him, her hands pushing against the chains, and he smirked at her impatience, his plump mouth immediately coming to her focus.

-You have the prettiest eyes- he breathed out, and a gentle kiss was pushed between them and she mumbled dizzy, on the affection he was showing her, cradling her gently:

-… you are so handsome- had she been drugged?

Her voice had come out in a rough gasp, arousal in it.

His eyes, two pool of azure eyes, famished and hurt, looking at her as if she was his only source of hope, the intensity in them made her blush and coat her thighs even more with her arousal.

He lowered himself and gently he kissed her.

Apparently his assaulter had a sweetness to himself she didn’t believe in, grabbing her face, being so careful that she might break and his lips gently caressed hers, just a little pressure, leaving here asking for more and as soon as he pushed himself away, she pouted up her lips to ask for more, hearing a giggle being pushed on them.

-… see… you are enjoying it- he laughed, before grabbing her legs gently, caressing them from her calves to her thighs, just a breath away from the true center -… and it will be only better from now on-.

-I’d still prefer to be free, and not restrained- because she couldn’t seriously deny what her body was asking for, and somehow his promise seemed genuine and true.

-As much as I believe that you would be on your best behavior if I release you from the hold of the chains…- his tone was joking and everything in him was teasing her, coming closer to her neck  -… I don’t believe that would be a good idea for me-.

He dosed kisses on her neck, giving her collarbones special attention, nibbling on them, meanwhile she moaned softly, her nails biting in his skin, meanwhile he slowly became more unhinged, bites being laid out and his clothed manhood pressing against her center, which had slowly started to leak on him.

-… but I feel uncomfortable- she complained, but the last part was quickly turned into a moan, when he started sucking on her neck, before his light stubble brushed over it and thrills started shrinking on her spine.

-I will make you feel much better soon, angel of mine- he promised, a kiss being laid on her forehead, before gently his nose started moving down her body, his lips marking each space he liked (which was anywhere) before he just stopped over her little Venus mound, staring at it with an intensity that made her close her eyes and whimper, unsure of herself.

Till she saw his amazed face, like a kid put in front of candies.

His tongue darted out between his lips, flicking teasingly between her folds, just searching a tiny taste of her, which brought immediate ecstasy to him, scrunching his eyes closer and smiling gently, as if he hadn’t expected less from her: sweet outside and inside.

And she gripped the chains to get some balance, unprepared for what his tongue promised and kept doing as soon as he got the hint that she enjoyed it.

He pushed himself closer to her, his tongue gently mapping her out, avoiding carefully her pearl of pleasure, and just exploring her folds, collecting the wetness on it, before laying gentle wet kisses on her thighs, letting her enjoy a moment of peace.

-… feeling better? – he looked slowly better at her, between long lashes, and she couldn’t help but feel a mess, tears and red cheeks on her face, not to talk about the state of her hair, which had brushed ungracefully against the surface, but he just looked at her as if he was seeing a masterpiece -… because you just made me even more hungry for you-.

And to point it out, he sucked a hickey on the frail skin of her inner thigh, his teeth pushing and pulling on her skin.

He then breathed on her pearl, delightfully engrossed, pushing through her folds and revealing itself softly to her assaulter, who then latched himself on it.

He started sucking and gently his hand reached out for her right nipple, twirling it between his fingers, pulling it and pulling out a moan, from her.

Then his tongue moved between the folds , again, patterns being delicately described on them, before he just started licking as if he was following his own pleasure and not hers, feeding himself on her excitement and ambrosia, and she pushed and pulled on the chains, just to get her hands in his soft hair to pull them and push him away, her sensitivity increasing with each step that brought her closer to her orgasm.

And it was in this situation of extreme pleasure that she was brought back by a sudden bite down her left inner thighs, almost as painful as the prick of a blood test, but a finger pushing on her clit brought her back in an ecstasy state again, although she wasn’t in the hazy atmosphere of the pre-orgasmic pleasure.

She tried to push herself up to understand what was going on, but the hand on her nipple, pushed her back, keeping her anchored down, but she soon heard other than the prick, sucking on her thigh, different from the one that had left the hickey, as if he was sucking something out of her.

She lost all her breath as soon as this sensation moved from pain to pleasure, with the lazy stroking of her clit and the kneading of her breasts, and she closed her eyes, to focus on the sensation, trying to understand what was going on between her thighs, mostly because the sucking was becoming more violent and she was slowly slowly feeling tired, although soft adrenaline run through her veins.

She was sure that five minutes had passed when he broke away, a kiss delivered on the sore pace on her thighs, a gasp and whine of pain leaving her mouth, meanwhile he gently breathed on the bruise, bringing some relief, before moving closer to her, and when she came face to face with him she saw that his teeth and lips were smeared with blood.

The sight terrified her, but also a part of her wanted to lick off the blood on his lips.

He had a crazy light on his face and he looked at her with the biggest smile she had ever seen, and although she knew it was crazy, she smiled back, meeting him halfway for a kiss, blood being smeared on her face and the tang of iron immediately stuck out in her mouth, meanwhile it all smeared on her lips as a messy lip-gloss and from the face she got…

… it turned him on.

-Look at you being all messy, angel of mine- and he licked her blood off her lips, much to his gluttony than to clean her.

She honestly wanted to think this was all fucked up, but… also… she just felt too excited for any thoughts that didn’t involve him and pleasure.

He had also proven himself unable to cause her true pain (the bite to her thigh only proved to be a precious aphrodisiac) so she somehow trusted him, fascinated by the damnation of his beauty and now that they were closer she saw that his eyes held a blunt hurt.

Tiredness satiated by her and adrenaline swiftly came over him and she soon found her legs around his waist, meanwhile he disrobed himself of his slacks.

She gently spread even more her legs, making sure to make him accommodate much better between them meanwhile she helped him out of his silk shirt, pushing it over his head, a joking smile being passed over his lips, immediately matched by hers.

When he was equally as disrobed as her he gently teased her folds with his manhood, spreading slickness around it, before pushing inside her unkindly, but it didn’t hurt for more than a few minutes, when he started moving savagely in her, a rhythm she had never had in her and a length which hit points she never knew she had.

He pushed an arm on the side of her face and the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head up to meet in a kiss, meanwhile she tried to grasp better her legs around him to secure herself better on him, in order not to lose her grip so easily as she was doing, bucking up at its pushes.

Her hips trying to follow his patterns, in order for him to brush against that special spot which made her gasp in true pleasure.

And he found it… again and again…

Which got her screaming of true pleasure, meanwhile he growled in her ears, before pushing his mouth on her neck, again something sharp on her neck and she slowly turned her head to it, finally understand what the pain was about…

… fangs were piercing her neck.

And the pain and the true madness didn’t hit her till that moment.

She came with a loud scream, fear pushing her over, but it didn’t end up there, he kept pushing in her, meanwhile he pulled out blood from her till she felt too dizzy to do anything and soon… blackness welcomed her, but only after her third orgasm of the night.

When she woke up, she was clothed in what looked like a silk slip and although she was still restrained, she wasn’t chained to a platform, instead her hands were “just” tied back, meanwhile her legs were gently linked together with a silk ribbon.

She was able to wriggle in order to get her back against the wooden headboard, meanwhile her eyes gently adapted themselves to the soft dark, much healthier than the red light in which she had been immersed for her nightmarish (although she could also swore that it had all been a very interesting and confusing wet dream) night with a vampire.

She immediately recognized a room which wasn’t hers, but it had such a good taste that she couldn’t help but take a second look to stare at everything, from the elegant shelves full of books to the curtains of a dark royal blue, velvet and heavy enough to avoid sun filtering there.

Was this another dream?

Or had it all been reality?

She was scared to discover more.

… but it wasn’t her decision to make.

A little cough alerted her that she wasn’t alone in the room and soon her eyes met her assaulter’s, the vampire’s eyes, which got her immediately shivering in her place, moving away even more in the bed, which only got a soft chuckle from him.

But now that adrenaline didn’t cloud his eyes, she could see that her rejection took a toll on him.

-I didn’t harm you before, and I won’t harm you now- he repeated, watching her as an annoying and never-learning child.

-Oh yeah… your bites were the softest thing my skin has ever experienced- she screeched back, feeling the place on her thigh, where he had bitten her, immediately become sore and aching, a bruise blooming on it, meanwhile his neck was extremely stiff.

And through it all, she felt tired.

But she was keeping on utter anger.

-… I didn’t think you minded the pain, little angel, when you were coming around  me, with those delicious mewls- he retorted back and she was the closest to punch him, but also his face looked so sad and destroyed, definitely tired that she…

… she somehow wanted to hug him, bring him closer…

… maybe closer between her thighs and push him…

-I really hope that you didn’t continue fucking me like an animal, after I passed out- she just mumbled, getting a little smirk from him who immediately raise from his place on the armchair to come closer and although she shrank out of fear, something in her told to lean closer, follow him -… and I hope it wasn’t some stranger who put me into this thing-.

The tiny slip of silk looked, now that she had just taken a good look at it, pretty expensive and not of her time, clearly a bit old style but she enjoyed the way it flowed around her, and she knew he felt the same about it, by the way he looked at her.

But it seemed there was much more: it was… as if she could sense it…

-I personally cleaned you, after you passed out; I took too much… I am sorry- he seemed sincere, and as soon as he was close to her, he gently pushed a kiss on the side of her legs, electricity being pushed in her entire body -… but… you taste so good-.

She couldn’t help but piece up all those pieces together to one single conclusion, the one she knew, but scared her:

-You are a vampire…- although she said it, she didn’t sound even in the slightest confident in her solution, knowing how crazy it sounded.

-… do you want me to start sparkling? – he smirked, confirming her words, meanwhile she just glared at him, seriously trying to free herself from the rope’s hold.

-Please don’t joke on this! – she choked on her own words -… this is all so scary! And new! -.

-Would you prefer an explanation? – although he was teasing her, there was some truth behind his affirmation, and she could see in his eyes the wanting and willingness to share his burden with someone else.

-That would be nice- she pressed her lips together to assume an even more serious tone -… I have been nothing but manhandled this entire night, so some explanations are much needed-.

-Well I am indeed a vampire, I have to confirm your hypothesis- he assured her as if it might bring her some comfort -… we are real, but we don’t hurt people… usually…-.

-Oh yeah, tell that to my thighs-.

As if to apologize he gently caressed her bruise, but she could see he was somehow proud of having left a mark on her.

“What an egotistical bastard” she found herself thinking, with a light smile.

-… we don’t feed straight up form humans, usually… blood bags are preferable, but the person who brought me my blood bags is actually dead… so… I don’t have that option anymore- he looked truly sad at that mention, but tried not to let it show too much on his face -… usually vampires have mates; mates can be romantical partners, but usually it’s just a blood thing; any other vampire’s blood might kill another vampire, unless they are your mates, bringing nourishment-.

He could see that she had been shocked by it, no matter the fact that she tried to hide it.

-I know that it might not be… believable… but… I felt that I owed you an explanation-.

It could all be a crazy idea of a crazy man, but she somehow trusted him, even after he had taken her blood without her permission.

-It is crazy, but somehow… believable- she honestly would have accepted anything those angelic lips might have delivered -… so will I be kept there as your blood bag? -.

She was a bit scared about the prospect, but her assaulter seemed interesting and if she would be getting a mind-blowing orgasm, each time.

-… no, tomorrow you will go back home, with no memory of it- he replied, again his face becoming sadder, as if during that night he had grown fond of her.

-And what will you do? – she asked, not really out of curiosity, but a strange jealousy brewing in her chest -… kidnap another girl? -.

-Are you jealous, little angel? – he immediately caught up her annoyance, and she rolled her eyes, to hide her embarrassment -… because I don’t think that I would want another other than you after tonight-.

-Then… how? – she honestly didn’t see many options and didn’t understand why he couldn’t be a bit selfish and just use her.

Had she honestly thought that?

-Blood bags- he mumbled out, and she understood that clearly they didn’t satisfy him enough -… this was mostly to show the new people I am with that I was able to use my fangs still, they see the usage of blood bags as… -.

-… you being weak? – she honestly couldn’t believe that he could be mistaken for weak or anything else in that department with his slim but strong arms and thick thighs.

-Kind of… and don’t tell anybody…- he leaned down to whisper with conspiration in her ear -… but I am supposed to be the boss here-.

-You certainly know how make a girl feel special- her nose slightly brushed against his.

-… I thought the first orgasm was enough for that- he made her blush and she honestly couldn’t help but feel like she might have enjoyed this entire atmosphere, had she not thought about the fact that he was a vampire…

And he immediately pushed himself on the bed, again between her thigh, a place he liked enough, and she couldn’t help but feel like he might just belong there.

-… I can give you some more convincing, favorite angel of mine- he mumbled meanwhile he raised her slip -… just one last kiss and then I will tell you goodbye-.

She woke up the following day in a hospital bed: no memory of the previous night, if not a few sparks of that bloody night being shot under her pupils, soft bites on her skin and soft words, including the imaginary whisper of “angel”.

So, when she woke up, nothing made her feel nervous or anything, unlike her friends, sitting on those uncomfortable hospital chair next to her bed, immediately getting up with her and immediately they breathed for the first time, during that long night.

They later explained to her that last night she had gone missing; they had felt bad for letting her go alone and expected to find her at the station, but not only she wasn’t there but she wasn’t also picking up her phone, and this had gotten them worried enough to immediately search for her in each place of the small center, before moving to the nearest police station.

They had found her later in the morning, passed out, her arms and legs a bit scratched by what looked like rope or chains, burning soft marks in her skin, but nothing broken.

She just wasn’t waking up.

“We were so damnably worried, (Y/N)!” had almost screamed Layla, meanwhile she had cried.

“,,,where have you been for the entire time?! What happened?!” Kathryn, her other friend, backed her up, but she was unable to answer in any way, knowing only that she hadn’t been hurt, something was instilled in her brain about her having been safe the entire night.

Her friends had insisted that she did a rape test, mostly because of the bruise on her thigh, which couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, but she had wanted to avoid the entire thing, since it seemed like she had nottrauma and she felt a little voice in her mind telling her not to look into it too much.

So, she tried to forget, although in dreams she sometimes heard loud gasping and something piercing her skin meanwhile she was roughly hoed down, something pushing in and out of her, bringing pleasure, meanwhile she breached the highest of ecstasy, waking up with arousal between her thighs.

She honestly felt curious about all those ideas, but every time she tried to look into those memories she started panicking hard, her brain stopped working and she just started feeling bad, enough that she stopped working on it, focusing on moving on with her life.

But she just couldn’t help but feel like something was lurking in the shadows, waiting just for her, preying on her.

And she wasn’t wrong…

Michael Langdon had said he would have let her go, but he hadn’t mean it.

He had never meant it, since he had first tasted her blood.

But he hadn’t been able to keep her when she had so many links in the human world; she wouldn’t forgive him, no matter her begging of staying with her, after he had told her he would make her forget about it all.

“If you knew about us, you might be a hazard to my community” he had explained, softly watching her bright eyes become dull with pain, meanwhile endless tears spilled from them.

He knew that exhaustion and the blood bound between them brought those emotions out of her, intensifying anything she felt and making her feel more and more attached to him, which made him seem a true bastard, since he had taken advantage of that drunken stupor.

He had longed for her, the moment after Madeline had taken her back where she had found her, after he had gently cleaned up each inch of her skin, to make sure nothing of his would be staying on her skin, although the police would without a doubt not find his fingerprints.

And he still longed for her, but there was no use into crying on spilled milk and slowly he had started elaborating a plan on how to get her back.

Because, although for the moment she belonged to the human world, she wouldn’t be there for much more time, had the revelations he had found about her been true.

He had felt in her blood something different from human blood, swiftly realizing that she was a bit like him, and that was why her blood sang to him: she was his mate.

She was a half-blood, she had a clear vampire genealogy in her blood, and swiftly he had made sure to discover more about it, till he was sure that that vampire blood in her veins might be enough to make her turn, had she wanted it.

And he was waiting for just the right time to claim his rightful mate, slowly spying on her and checking that no harm came to here, spying her meanwhile she turned in her bed, her fingers between her legs, trying to satiate the arousal between them.

But he knew already that she never would…his own hand didn’t help him in the slightest.

He had just to have faith in the plan.

After he had lost Mrs Mead he had thought that he would be forever alone…

… but destiny had brought them together, destiny had given him a mate.

And now he was preying on her.

---

I really hope that you liked it and in the future, there might be more chapters of this, since me and Michael aren’t done with reader...

And here it is all the lovely people who wanted to be tagged!

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Love you, lovelies!

-Heco Hansen.

[mxliv-oftheendless]

The Mysterious Disappearance of Heather McMann

I have... no explanation for this story lol. Well, actually I do: I was thinking about how Heather quit the band, and I suddenly thought about how in the eyes of the general public, that have no idea of who she really is or what really happened, this would be incredibly weird. And since I’ve been Buzzfeed Unsolved trash for a while now, this made me consider the possibility of there being an Unsolved video about Heather. And... that’s how this came into being lol. It also serves as a way for me to figure out Heather’s Earth timeline a little. Enjoooy! 

Commentary text:

Ryan

Shane

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[camera opens on Ryan and Shane sitting at their desk in their office set]

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we take a look at the case of Heather McMann, a former member of the band KISS who played with the band for only three years before disappearing without a trace. This will also be the first time we look at a case involving a famous rock band.”

Shane nods. “Very famous. KISS—everybody knows KISS.”

“Yeah. Honestly, they’re not my preferred type of music, but I did listen to some of their songs while doing my research, and they’re pretty good.”

“They’re very good! I mean they’re pretty iconic, I think. I will say, though, I have never heard of Heather McMann.”

“Not many people have. She’s kind of this forgotten fifth member of KISS.”

“Well, I’m interested. Let’s hear about it, Ryan.” [Ryan opens his case file, and the camera cuts to the slideshow. Music begins as Ryan narrates]

“In 1980, KISS was beginning to rapidly decline in popularity. Although they still had a massive fanbase, they were facing problems. The original drummer, Peter Criss, had left the band after filming the music videos for the singles off their album Unmasked, and was replaced by Eric Carr. In following KISS tradition of having makeup and a stage identity, Eric Carr became the Fox, replacing Peter, who had been the Catman.”

yeah this was the thing that always interested me about KISS, that they had these alter egos and their heavy makeup

yeah that’s

it’s very cool

you don’t usually hear about a band going that extra mile ever

“Remaining KISS members Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, and Ace Frehley decided to introduce Eric Carr as their new drummer during their television appearance on the show Kids Are People Too. And it was also on Kids Are People Too that they would surprise everyone, by introducing their recently-added fifth member, Heather McMann.” [with narration: stock footage of Heather McMann in full costume stepping out onstage, smiling and waving as she goes to sit with the band]

they introduced her, and no one knew it was going to happen?

yeah. the way it happened was, they brought out Eric Carr, the Fox, and then they were suddenly like, “there’s one other person we need to introduce.” and then they brought out Heather McMann.

oh. that’s kinda cool. did she have a stage persona?

yeah, she did. hers was the Black Dahlia.

nice. reminds me of the murder.

it probably reminded a lot of people of the murder

“The unexpected introduction of a fifth member came as a shock to the music world, as well as the KISS Army. Their inclusion of a fifth member, who also happened to be a woman, quickly received criticism from fans. An article of Rolling Stone on the event said, quote, “This will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back for the KISS Army. First KISS turns to disco for their album Dynasty, then pop rock for Unmasked, then Peter Criss either quits or is kicked out, and now they introduce two new members at once, one of whom is a girl. KISS has made many blunders, but this is by far the worst. It is the opinion of this author that KISS will be long gone within five years.” End quote.”

now that’s a bunch of bullshit.

eheheheh, I know.

“oh no! a woman is playing rock music! she’s insane! this is the end for KISS!”

hahahahahahaha

joke’s on that guy, ‘cause KISS has been around for how long now?

over forty years, I think

thought so. get rekt, asshole.

“Though, KISS mostly ignored the criticism, and regardless of it, Heather McMann was introduced into KISS as the Black Dahlia, their self-appointed “harmony guitarist.”

I didn’t even know “harmony guitarist” was a thing

heheh, yeah, neither did I

that’s kinda cool

but it is indeed a thing

“While on the Unmasked tour, Heather would work well with the band. Fans who went to shows on the tour felt that the band’s sound was enhanced with Heather playing with them. One fan said, quote, “I’ll admit I was on the fence about Heather being in the band. But the show was amazing. Her harmony playing mixed in with the rest gave the sound something extra that I really liked. It was mind-blowing.” End quote. Also observed was the close friendship of Heather McMann and Paul Stanley. Though many gossip magazines would claim they were romantically involved, both friends denied the claims, sometimes even laughing outright at them. [screen shows footage from an interview, of Paul Stanley and Heather McMann in makeup, laughing together]

Stanley himself said of McMann, quote, “She’s one of my oldest and best friends. We’re practically siblings. I really think that if Heather hadn’t been there to encourage me and my music, there would be no KISS.” End quote.”

gotta be honest, it’s pretty great that they were such good friends

yeah that’s really sweet

it is

are they still best friends?

well I don’t know, because she disappeared

oh yeah (wheeze) I forgot about that

you were so wrapped up in how lovely their friendship was

(wheeze) that for a moment I forgot what we were doing here

heheheheh

“Other than Stanley, many others who knew McMann described her as a friendly, likeable person. Gene Simmons once described her as, quote, “an incredible woman who will call you out and then help you be better,” end quote. Ace Frehley has praised her as well, saying, quote, “She’s the kinda woman who’ll say she’s okay even when she’s great, but then bash you over the head with her guitar if you give her any bullshit. She’s a force to be reckoned with.” end quote. Heather McMann would play with KISS for their Unmasked tour, and was reportedly also a guitar player on their 1981 album, Music of the Elder. Though KISS made many promotional appearances for the album, McMann included, in the end, there was no tour for it.”

why wasn’t there a tour for it?

it did really bad. like really super fucking bad.

oh

like, it tanked

is it that bad?

I dunno, I’ve never listened to it.

we should listen to it after this

“Ace Frehley would leave the band in 1982 while they recorded their next album, Creatures of the Night, and although he appears in all promotional aspects, he didn’t actually play on the album itself. Most of the guitar playing on the album was done by McMann and Vinnie Vincent, who joined the band as their new lead guitarist and adopted the persona of the Ankh Warrior.”

if he wasn’t on the album then why did they do that?

I don’t

seems like a waste of time, honestly

I don’t know. maybe his contract had something to do with it… I really don’t know.

weird decision to make

“It was during the Creatures tour that McMann began to show out of the ordinary behavior. During interviews, she would be completely quiet and not say a word unless prompted to. Paul Stanley would often sit beside her and try to engage her in the interview. People who encountered her often said she looked troubled about something, even depressed. She would also stay off to the side during shows, and according to online accounts would actively try to stay out of photographs. Heather would play with KISS as the Black Dahlia on the Creatures tour up until February 23rd, 1983, when KISS played a show at Cobo Arena in Detroit, Michigan. And then, Heather McMann was never seen or heard from again.”

she didn’t even last until the end of the tour?

nope, she did not

I mean they’re just asking us to investigate this at this point

(wheeze) they might as well just hold up a sign that says INVESTIGATE US

HEY GHOUL BOYS, WE’VE GOT A MYSTERY FOR YA

hahahaha

I love it

but in all seriousness, it is very odd to just drop out of the band you’re in halfway through a tour

yeah, Ryan, it is very odd

“Since Heather McMann was only a member of KISS for three short years, and since no one has ever seen or heard any sign of her, she has since her disappearance fell into obscurity. However, that being said, there are many debated theories on what happened to the former member of the hottest band in the world. The first theory is that Heather McMann suffered a mental breakdown, quit the band, dropped out of the public eye so she could recuperate, and simply never came back. Proponents of this theory point to her odd behavior during interviews while on the Creatures tour, and how she seemed troubled and depressed about something. According to one source, during the night when KISS was staying in their hotel in Syracuse, New York, a cleaning lady was walking down the hallway when she encountered McMann, who was, quote, “sitting out in the hallway with her face buried in her knees, looking like she’d been crying,” end quote. The cleaning lady also claimed Stanley was outside with her, with an arm around her shoulders and appearing to be comforting her. Though, this is from a known tabloid magazine, in the context of them claiming McMann had been dumped by a supposed boyfriend, so take this was an enormous grain of salt.”

regardless of whether or not this theory is true, it is nice that Paul was willing to comfort his best friend like that

yeah that is very nice of him

that’s a true friend right there

like the saying goes, “if you don’t love me at my worst, you can’t love me at my best”

deep

yeah, I know

“That being said, however, critics of this theory point out how, when she was engaged in conversation and when she was onstage with the band, McMann behaved normally. The second theory is that Heather was fired. Proponents of this theory cite her odd behavior during the Creatures tour, and how she would appear to get into arguments with the other band members onstage. Footage recorded of the show in Atlanta shows Heather in the background with Vinnie Vincent, seemingly in a heated discussion. People also point to the story of how, a week before the show that would be Heather’s last public appearance with the band, she and Paul Stanley had a violent argument, yelling back and forth at each other and even insulting one another. People claim that this argument and her odd behavior supports the possibility that Heather was simply fired, and out of respect to the band decided to never appear again.”

wait, what? the best friends were arguing?

yeah, apparently they were

aw man… that’s no fun

“Though, this theory has been criticized, with many people pointing out how these alleged “arguments” cannot be confirmed as such, and that Heather’s behavior could also be simply pressure from the long and intense touring. Accounts of her argument with Paul Stanley also vary in what happened, and were mostly found in tabloid magazines. This theory is also criticized by members Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons, who have both individually stated that Heather parted ways with them on good terms. Of the argument, Stanley said, quote, “There was yelling and there were insults. But the idea that it has anything to do with why Heather left is not true. The fact is, she didn’t want to be a burden, she couldn’t be in the band anymore, and asked us if she could quit. And while it was sad to see her leave, it’s what she wanted to do, and I would never make her stay when she wanted to leave.” End quote.”

I can see why people would believe this theory

yeah it definitely is a solid theory

also because from what I could gather, KISS seems to have a history of ambiguous departures

ambiguous how?

well you’ve got Peter Criss, Ace Frehley, and Vinnie Vincent, who all left one after the other, and either they were kicked out or they quit. it’s unclear what actually happened.

you mean like one person’s like “they were kicked out” but then another one’s like “they quit”?

yeah it’s like that

I suppose that’s true. my only hang-up here is that she seemed to get along so well with all of them.

yeah, if she got along so well with all of them, it doesn’t make sense for her to suddenly be fired

they probably would’ve been willing to work with her to figure out any problems, instead of just straight-up firing her

“The third theory is that Heather continued to tour with the band, even after she quit. Former roadies of KISS claim that throughout the 80s, up until 1988, there was a woman with long blonde hair travelling around with the band. One of these roadies stated in a KISS Army forum, quote, “She was a woman who looked like she was in her early thirties, with long blonde hair. She would volunteer to help us load in or load out equipment, and some of us would see her hanging out with the band backstage. One time I even saw her watching from backstage. None of us ever learned her name, because she would always answer with, “It’s not important.”” End quote. There are also pictures from the 80s of a blonde woman interacting with the band. Many people think she was simply a groupie, or a girlfriend/wife of one of the members. Others, however, think that perhaps this woman is Heather McMann.”

I don’t believe this theory

why not?

because it just—if I’m a person who was in a band, and then quit for whatever reason, I’m not gonna continue to travel around with them. I’m not homeless. it doesn’t make sense for her to travel around with them.

that is true. it doesn’t make sense that she would do that.

no, it doesn’t.

then again, it also doesn’t make sense that she would disappear halfway through a tour.

(wheeze) well I guess that’s also true

“The fourth theory is ridiculous.”

hahahahahahahah

hahahaha

right out the gate, you say it’s a ridiculous theory, that’s great

well it’s a pretty fucking ridiculous theory. even for the internet, it’s a pretty ridiculous theory.

well keep in mind, people on the internet believe lizard people exist and that Tupac is still alive

well that’s true

“A handful of fans on the Internet have supported the theory that Heather McMann, as well as all the other members of KISS, are superpowered intergalactic beings who came to Earth to form KISS. According to this theory, Heather McMann is really a witch as she claimed to be, and that she left KISS to return to their true home, which explains why she seemed to disappear without a trace. Now, as to my opinion of this theory? No fucking way.”

yeah, no shit.

(wheeze) it’s so stupid. this theory would only be believable in one of their comic books.

KISS had comic books?!

(wheeze) yeah, they did. they’ve got a ton of weird merchandise.

I mean I knew that, everyone knows about the KISS merch, but comic books?! (wheeze) they know their brand.

hahahahahahah

also, did you say she claimed to be a witch?

yeah, their thing is they have these backstories for their personas. hers was that she was a witch from an intergalactic coven.

I mean… that’s kinda cool. but maybe she shouldn’t have said that

(wheeze)

if it’s going to make people on the internet say “she’s an intergalactic being who went back home to her home planet… Jupiter!”

hahahahaha

what is this, Jupiter Ascending? c’mon now

“Although she was only in KISS for a short period of time, Heather McMann’s mysterious and unexpected departure continues to confound members of the KISS Army. Though Heather McMann has been forgotten by the world, save dedicated KISS fans, many questions still remain: who was the woman fans knew as the Black Dahlia? Why did she suddenly leave the band? And why has she never been seen since? For now, and perhaps forever, these questions will remain… UNSOLVED.”

WHAT UNSOLVED MYSTERY DO YOU WANT TO SEE NEXT?

[we cut back to Ryan and Shane in the office set]

“Final verdict,” Ryan asks, “which one do you think it is?”

“I definitely think the first theory is the most plausible. The rest just don’t make sense.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Though I’m still not certain about the third theory…”

“I still love the fact that she and Paul Stanley were such good friends.”

“Yeah, that is really nice.”

“They were bros,”

“Yeah. Well, Heather, if you’re watching this…”

“Ya got us! We’re stumped. We don’t have a clue what happened to you.”

“Also KISS, if you’re watching this, hope we didn’t offend you in any way.”

“Yeah, that too. I think I’ll go listen to some KISS, actually. They’re a good band.”

“They are a good band. I’ll go listen to some KISS with you.”

“They are, after all, the hottest band in the world.”

-KISSTERIA-

“No, Gene, I’m serious, get on YouTube and put in ‘buzzfeed unsolved’. It’s a new episode, it should be at the top. I swear I’m not making this up!... Did you find it? Okay. Watch it, then call me back. Okay. See you later.”

Paul got off the phone and went over to Heather’s couch, where she was sitting and grinning widely at her laptop, which had been set up on the coffee table. On the screen was the most recent episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved, entitled “The Mysterious Disappearance of Heather McMann.”

“Now, as to my opinion of this theory? No fucking way.”

Heather burst out laughing, falling back on her couch. “Did you—Did you hear that?” she guffawed. “That’s so funny…”

“What’s so funny?”

Heather sat up and rewound the video while Paul sat down next to her.

“A handful of fans on the Internet have supported the theory that Heather McMann, as well as all the other members of KISS, are superpowered intergalactic beings who came to Earth to form KISS. According to this theory…”

Paul’s eyes went wide. “What?!”

Heather giggled. “I know, right?”

Paul shot to his feet. “I need to call Gene.”

“No.” Heather’s hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve. “You don’t need to call Gene. Sit down, and watch the video.”

“If they legitimately think this theory has enough merit to go into their video, then that means we have a problem,” Paul argued.

Heather snorted. “It really doesn’t, Paul. You all have been claiming you’re intergalactic beings since you formed KISS, and no one, apart from fanfic writers on the Internet, has taken you seriously. Relax. Do you want me to rewind the video so you can watch it?”

Paul was silent for a moment, then sighed and sat back down. “Fine…”

Smiling, Heather paused the video and rewound to the beginning. When Velma had messaged her about the video, she’d admittedly been apprehensive of watching it at first. But as she watched the video, her enjoyment of it only rose.

They would no doubt have a postmortem for this episode, Heather thought to herself. She smiled as she wondered what would happen if she got a YouTube account and left a little comment for the boys to read…