#i doubt anyone actually follows me closely anymore on here

[mulder-fight-him]

We lived through Ian. Husband leaves tomorrow for our new home in Kettering, UK.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader imagine

It had been really difficult to blow Bucky off each time he asked to hang out. In fact it had been really difficult to ignore the whole friendship group. If you went out with Steve, no doubt Bucky would be there. If you went out with Nat, no doubt Bucky would hear and ask you to meet him the following day. The same goes for Sam, Wanda and, fuck it, even Tony.

So you all but secluded yourself in your room. Which wasn't your choice really but your boyfriend Alex hadn't taken kindly to your close relationship with another man. He wasn't convinced that even though you two grew up together you could be 'just friends'. And to his credit he wasn't really wrong. You had harboured a fat crush on your closest friend for a while but it was unrequited and then Alex came into your life and he was the first guy who actually showed an interest in you. It wasn't something you were used to in the slightest. Being friends with beauties like Natasha and Wanda you were often looked over by those not in the friend group but Alex had sought you out.

So here you were, on a Saturday, missing out whatever fun shenanigans were going on. Scrolling through various apps in your pjs like a party animal.

A knock at your door startled you out of mindlessly scrolling.

You sat yourself up and hoped to god you weren't nose blind and the room smelt okay.

"I'm decent." You joked.

The door opened and the very person you were avoiding ducked his head in. Fuck Bruce. You had told him not to let anyone in.

"Oh my god. You're alive." He joked back shutting the door behind himself. Bucky sauntered into your room, with the same swagger he always had, plonking himself down on your bed.

Not sure what to say in response, you go to the diplomatic, "You okay?"

He gives you a half shrug and leans backwards. "Missing my partner in crime. Thought I'd visit you."

You merely nod in reply.

This is the first ever awkward silence you and Bucky had sat through. It spread out horribly, stretching until you gave a very fake cough. Hoping any noise would solve it. It didn't.

"Right, okay, just go straight to the point." Bucky muttered. "Look, why are you avoiding me, angel? What did I do?"

Bucky's gaze was always piercing but today the intensity winded you. Why were you avoiding him?

There was no use lying anymore. You'd used up all your excuses anyway. You couldn't be sick again or have work again you just needed to tell him. He deserves honesty. "Alex isn't our biggest fan."

"Yeah, I knew that." Bucky chuckled. "I just didn't realise his dick was worth all your friends." You tutted at his crude remark. "He told me off for piggybacking you at the fair. 'she doesn't let me carry her, why are you'." His impression was eerily good.

You chuckled a little at the idea of Alex confronting Bucky. "He was not pleased that evening."

"He doesn'-" Bucky shook his head.

"Doesn't what?"

"Nothing." He ran a hand through his locks. "Where is he anyway?"

"He's at a friend's birthday."

Bucky's eyebrows were in his hairline. "And he has taken you?"

This was a sore topic. But you'd been honest so far... "I didn't fit into the dress."

Now he was frowning. "What dress?"

You motioned to your wardrobe. "He brought me a dress, I've been working to get into it but."

"Been wor-" Bucky's frown somehow got deeper. "Why would he buy you a dress that doesn't fit you?"

Your mouth opened and closed but you didn't have an answer.

Bucky stomped over to the wardrobe and opened it. There was a dress resting against the door, it was enclosed in plastic so he had to unzip it. The dress was tiny. It was a little strappy thing with far too many holes. What were the holes supposed to- oh they were going to expose your sides and back.

"This i-" He turned to you. "You'd never wear this. It's not even your colour."

You couldn't agree more. "I know, it's been a little arguement between us." That was an understatement.

"I still don't understand why he buys you something that didn't fit." You shrugged but before you could respond he continued, "what's this?"

Your eyes flicked down to the pile he was caught on. "Oh, those ar- those are your hoodies."

Bucky gave you a confused face. "Bu- these are yours, angel."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Alex wasn'-"

"I don't care about him. He buys you shit that doesn't fit, he goes to parties without you, he isolates you from your friends." Bucky sat back on the bed but much closer, just by your hip. "Why are you with him?"

You didn't know. You liked him. You think you love him. But when you really think of it, you don't know. You're not any happier with him than if you weren't. Sometimes he says things and you feel fat in a bad way. You'd be the first to say you weren't thin but the way he says it makes you feel wrong. "He's the first guy to actually show an interest in me, I suppose at first I enjoyed it but when you say it like that."

"He is not the first guy to show you an interest." Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "You're gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks. But when I'm out with the gang I'm not really being looked at."

"You are." Bucky vowed. "I- people do look at you. I-I sometimes don't like the way they look at you and maybe I dance with you and maybe I take you on the Ferris wheel."

Why wouldn't he like the way they looked at you? Your brows pulled. "The way they look at me?"

"Like you're just a quick fuck." He instantly regretted that. "No, they look at you with lust but I know they would leave. They wouldn't treat you right. They wouldn't care for you." His eyes were bright and honest. He wasn't embarrassed by his confession.

You had nothing. No response. What could you say that wouldn't betray the crush? You didn't still like him, no, well ... When he looked at you like that...

"Come on." He clapped a hand on your knee. "Get changed let's get pizza." The look on your face must've shown your obvious debate. "I don't care if you don't fit into that dress, you look like you haven't eaten anything good in ages."

[yuri-is-online]

Hi, there! :D 🌼 Congratulations on your new followers, you deserve them!

I hope to be on time for the event can I request :

"Someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to have a bit of fun and tease them.

With Silver , Deuce and Ace?

Take your time and no pressure, thank you very much 💗💐🌠

2. "Someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to have a bit of fun and tease them.

Hello treasured friend! I was hopeful you would send a request, you picked a nice combination of prompts and characters last time and your comments have been very helpful. You also really helped me out by picking Ace and Deuce, I had a second person who really wanted all of the first years with this prompt and between you both I have them all. I hope I can continue to please with these next two requests ♡ ～('▽^人)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Yuu is kind of... mean to Ace (I love him I promise), Silver and Deuce should be besties with how much wii shop music is bouncing around in those skulls. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Silver

"You are in love. And don't act so ashamed of it, young love is a precious thing, you should treasure your time with it for as long as you can."

It's not advice Silver would characterize as bitter, nor is it a point he wishes to ignore; he trusts his father to know him more than anyone so if he says what he feels for the prefect is love, then it must be true. Not that he exactly needed Lilia to voice it, Silver would like to think that he would have realized it if he had been given just a bit more time in your presence alone. But that was hard to come by when you are prone to sleeping randomly, or when your beloved's dreams are so difficult to find.

"Thank you for helping me earlier." The mask Malleus gave him hides his face well enough for him to pass of his nodding off near the star railing as simply tripping on his cape. At least, that's what Silver tells himself as you give a generic you're welcome and turn back to the party. He would like to think if you knew it was him here you would stay, but he doesn't actually know that does he? "Say-"

You turn back to Silver confused. Doesn't he need to get back to Malleus? That's what you had expected, the entire reason you had gotten to hurrying yourself away because you thought you knew if you turned around he simply would not be there anymore. But he is, his hand is extended as if it was reaching for you before falling dejectedly back to his side like you were the one out of reach.

"Have you seen Silver anywhere? Lilia is looking for him." He says it so seriously, and even though he technically says everything like that it still sounds funny to you. Really, who put him up to this? Because you somehow doubt pretending to not be himself was not what he woke up expecting to do.

"I think I saw him earlier," your hand comes up to your mouth to remind you not to laugh, Silver's relaxing now he really must think he's doing a good job lying "these masks just make it so hard to tell who is who."

"They really do." Says the one who really does not. "Do you... often look for Silver at places like this?"

"Oh only sometimes." You walk just a bit closer, it's so hard to gauge Silver's reaction to anything, he is already such a stoic person, and his training encourages an even temperament. "Really, it feels like he's the one looking for me most of the time. Why I bet if I closed my eyes right now," you make sure to do just that as soon as you are stood in front of him once more "he would appear right in front of me, just like he does in my dreams as soon as I counted to ten." Silver's in take of breath is sharp, delighting the trickster within you as you count dutifully down preparing to tease him for his attempt at fooling the master.

But Silver is honest and blunt, your eyes fluttering open in surprise at the kiss placed quickly to your lips and the maskless face before you beaming in joy as if you really had summoned him forth and not been talking to him this whole time.

"May I have this dance, Yuu?" And something about the way he says your name makes you almost believe you were still at home dreaming, no matter how real the safety of his embrace makes you feel.

Deuce

Riddle had told you once, in confidence with a great deal of pride, that when Deuce had been placed in Heartslabyul he had announced his intentions to be as "diligent as the card soldiers." Something you both agreed he certainly lived up to, even if that diligence did not always produce the results he wanted. Take tonight for example, he had asked you to dance earlier in the night, clearly intending to mask his identity to try and follow along with what he perceived the rules of a Masquerade Ball to be.

As in he intends (you assume) to pretend to be a stranger to you until midnight when the masks get removed even as he brings you all your favorites from the buffet table and just generally is content to stay around you. Some might call it hovering, but Deuce has never really been uncomfortable with you; from the first moment you and Grim had asked for his help with Ace he has been a solid presence in your life. Which is why when he starts to get shifty and nervous you immediately notice.

"Something on your mind?" You try gently, knowing that he will only feel better once he's unburdened himself, frowning slightly when he startles further.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." He sounds almost sad, but not in a way that's causing him any pain. Nostalgic, longing, it's as if there is a picture in his head overlapping the actual scene in front of him. It worries you. "I have this... friend. And I was wondering if- well you seem really smart." Your smile returns, small and tentative, waiting for him to finish thinking before you commit to your happiness. Cute, so cute Deucey seems to be worried you don't know you're dancing with him. "Do you know Deuce Spade?"

"I think so." You hum and Deuce swallows, his hand holds yours just a bit more tightly than is necessary for a ballroom dance. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering I- he- has this other friend." If Ace could hear the way Deuce was stammering right now he would whine for you to end his suffering, but you want Deuce to have his moment. So you simply nod to encourage him to continue, watching in delight the shuddering breath he takes to steady his confidence. "Is he someone you would want to get to know better? He has this... friend he wants to ask out, but he's worried that he won't know how to treat them right."

"Are they good friends?" You say, really trying to play along. Deuce nods, his mask prevents you from really knowing but you think he is not looking you in the eyes. "Besties?"

"Uh the bestest besties." He nods, all too seriously.

"Bros even." You nod too and Deuce sputters, half tripping over your feet as you decide to heed Ace's phantom advice and put an end to the charade. "Oh come on Deucey, you said that's what we were before. So what's changed?" It comes out as a joke, but it's really not. You gave up on getting a confession from Deuce so long ago you can barely believe the sheepish smile on his face is real and not some fever dream.

"I got tired of lying to myself." He steps back away from you and steadies himself, taking a deep breath before bowing, the perfect picture of loyalty and diligence. "So Yuu, will you please take my hand? And never let go."

Ace

"Say have you seen Ace?" A "mysterious" figure leans against the door frame of the ballroom, the moon highlighting his red eyes that are centered purposefully on you. It's breathtaking, your heart is already halfway up your throat keeping you from speaking aloud. You shake your head quickly, intending to taunt him in to taking off his mask but startle as his grin only widens. "Guess that means I'll have to satisfy myself with you then." And just like that you remember yourself again, is he seriously pretending not to be himself? Does he think you do not know him well enough to spot him in this sea of literally faceless people?

"Well nice to see you too I guess." You cross your arms and he has the audacity to laugh at you like you're "pouting" or something. Like he thinks your cute. "I'm not here looking to satisfy anybody."

"Aw don't be like that." Ace moves, inviting himself into your personal space as you regrettably let him. "You know how Ace is," you do, it's almost like he is in the room with you as you speak "or maybe you don't and just didn't want to admit you can't remember what he looks like." This looser, well play stupid games win stupid prizes! Since you know him so well, you know Ace will understand.

"Oh please," you straighten up and give your best neutral face of disappointment "as if I could ever forget his ugly fucking face."

"Wait-" Ace clearly was not expecting this, his shock is delicious and you are exceptionally thirsty.

"Seriously who does he think he is? Walking around like he isn't annoying everyone with his stupid half smile smirk thing, smouldering went out of style years ago dude! It's creepy now." You mean none of these things- well most none of these things. It would be extremely helpful to your sanity if Ace could explain just who he thinks he is to you specifically, because you know what you want that answer to be. "And I mean have you seen how weird he is about that prefect? Who cares if they don't have magic, if anything that makes them more ann-" surprisingly, as if he wants to prove your hypothetical whining right Ace slaps a hand across your mouth with protests bubbling out of his mouth.

"Look look ok you got me I deserve that." He says with a nervous laugh. "Shit talk me as much as you like, but don't you ever talk about yourself like that. Not around me, not around anyone." He leans forward, some of his boyish confidence returning now that he really knows for sure that you knew it was him all along. Gently, he moves his body closer to yours as he removes his hand from your mouth, moving his fingers to support your chin, not taking any chances on your looking away. He opens his mouth as if he means to continue talking, but his eyes settle on your lips for just a moment too long and the thought leaves. You stand there in ambiguous silence, masks suddenly making their presence heavy against your skin. It's a visceral reminder of how artificial the barrier between you both is, how little effort it takes to break it as you reach for his and pull at the thread as Ace closes the gap to finally answer your stupid question from before.

Sure, there's a chance you will both deny this tomorrow, take those two steps back into the grey that infuriates you both, but so long as you're in this dance together, can you really complain? Not out loud at least, no not out loud.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, snark, violence,

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: Guess who was waiting for you at the Wiggle Room, Besties! D:

A/N: THE POCKET v CUNTHRAGE SHOWDOWN BEGINS

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You came to slowly, taking in one thing at a time in order to make sense of your current predicament. First, your head was pounding. You were going to need to get that under control if you had any hope of keeping your wits about you. 

Second, you were sitting upright, but you couldn’t move. A gentle pull of your wrists and ankles met with resistance, and you knew from the cold metal beneath and behind you that you were mostly likely tied to a metal chair. 

Third, you were so cold, your teeth were practically chattering. Carthage hadn’t taken the time to change you out of your dancer’s outfit, and you weren’t wearing shoes, making escape a bit more of a challenge. 

Fourth, the room you were in was artificially bright, with no windows, white walls, and no distinguishing features. It looked so much like the rooms you had seen in the Hydra security footage that you would have bet all the money in your swear jar that you were underground. 

Fifth, you still wore your bangle. While you didn’t have the range of motion to press the beacon with your other hand, you could still maneuver to press it into the arm of the chair. You were going to have to be very subtle about it. You just needed to keep whoever was guarding you distracted long enough to engage it.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Jade’s voice drew your attention to where she sat on a chaise lounge in the corner of the room. It was so out of place in the otherwise bland space, you had no doubt she’d brought it in specifically to wait for you to wake up. 

“It’s very rude to keep your hostess waiting, you know,” she simpered. “And here I was being so nice by not killing you outright.”

“It’s even more rude to kidnap people,” you murmured to yourself. You shook your head groggily, putting a bit more disorientation into it than you actually felt. Let her underestimate the current state of your mind. “I don’t understand, Jade,” you moaned, as though you were significantly uncomfortable. “What am I doing here?”

Jade laughed and leaned forward, propping her elbows onto her knees. “Come on, (Y/L/N). You and I both know you’re not stupid, so don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you have no idea.”

You raised an eyebrow, calculating the risk of your next words. “There’s plenty of ways I could insult your intelligence, Carthage,” you said. “You make it exceptionally easy.” 

Her eyes narrowed as she stood up and stalked toward you. Bending down, she gripped your cheeks in her hand, squeezing your face uncomfortably. “There’s that mouth,” she murmured. “Can’t understand why Jamie likes it so much.” She violently jerked your head to the side. “Not that it matters. He’ll forget all about it once he hasn’t heard from it in a while.”

“So, your plan is to, what? Annoy me to death?” you asked, with far more confidence than you felt. 

Jade laughed. “Oh, no, no, no, sweetie. I’m not going to kill you. That’d be too… easy.” She began walking around you in slow, deliberate circles. “No,” she said eventually, as she paused in front of you. “I’m going to sell you. As much as I hate to admit it, you are pretty, and you’ve managed to keep yourself tight in your old age.” Old age?! Pfft! You were just over a month into thirty-five. Fuck this girl! 

“Granted, though,” she bent down and leaned in to whisper to you, conspiratorially, “you are very, very used goods. But I don’t see any need to let your future owner know you spent a chunk of your childhood as a disgusting whore, do you? Honestly, I’m amazed Jamie didn’t go sliding right out of you, with how loose your cunt must be by now.”

You felt yourself tug at your restraints, your anger raising. “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” you seethed, knowing that losing your cool wasn’t going to do you any favors, but not really caring in the moment. “I know Bucky didn’t tell you that,” you spat. “He wouldn’t.”

Jade caressed the side of your face, the gesture almost loving in its gentleness. “Oh, no,” she purred. “Jamie didn’t have to tell me anything. I learned everything I needed to know by listening to you tell FRIDAY all about your sad little past. An AI for a therapist?” she scoffed. “That’s a bit pathetic, even for you, don’t you think? What’s the matter? Couldn’t get a real doctor interested enough in giving a shit about you?”

You felt your blood begin to boil at the sheer violation of your privacy. “How the fuck did you even get access to those records?” you spat. “I checked your logs; the only thing you ever accessed from the Tower’s system were Bucky’s open files.”

Jade gave you a look that was almost pitying. “Oh, Pocket,” she mocked. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. I knew you’d be checking my logs. But I’d bet you’d never thought to check your beloved boyfriend’s.”

“No,” you protested, shaking your head. “Bucky would never go into my personnel files and he certainly wouldn’t share any of it with you. He wouldn’t.”

“Well, no,” Jade admitted. “He wouldn’t. I mean, I love him more than anything, but that beautiful fool is so technologically illiterate. I mean, really. Did you know he just leaves his system password written on a fucking Post-It note on his desk? Just sitting there, where anyone who happens to venture into his room can see it. Why, if he’s not in there, anyone could just walk in and get access to his credentials. And if they were, I dunno, a trained Hydra operative, they could access all kinds of goodies with them!”

“You don’t love him,” you spat as you tried to subtly trigger your bangle. “They programmed you to be obsessed with him. A person doesn’t do the things you’ve done to someone they love.”

Jade reached forward and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to flinch at her touch. “And I suppose a person who really loves you would think it was totally fine to call you a slut, a whore, and… what was the other one? A fucktoy!” She laughed and the sound turned your stomach. “I gotta tell you, Pocket, it was almost too easy to feed him the right words to trigger you. I just pulled them straight out of your sessions. The poor boy was so afraid of losing you, he was willing to eat up every single thing I spoon fed him.” She pulled back and sighed. “Almost a little too easy, actually,” she lamented. “He was so desperate, so unsure of himself already, he’d believe anything I’d say. I gotta tell you, though, you obviously weren’t loving him enough if he was always questioning whether or not he was good enough for you.”

You swallowed at that, wondering if there was any truth to it. Had you not loved him enough if he had been doubting himself so much, even after all that time? No. You shook your head. She found cracks in him and she filled them with air, expanding them wherever she could, weakening his foundation to her advantage.

“So, what?” you asked derisively, “you think the two of you are just going to ride off into the sunset together? Please. He’ll never pick you, Jade. Never.”

“It’s not even going to be a decision for him, honey,” she said, voice sickeningly sweet. “I’m going to take away the option. If you’re gone, he’ll have no choice but to get over you, to forget you. To finally stop being SO. FUCKING. OBSESSED. WITH. YOU.” She shouted the end of her sentence to drive home her point. “If you’re gone, and I’m the only one left to comfort him, to pick up the pieces, he’ll have no choice but to realize he loves me.”

You barked out a laugh. “You can’t be fucking serious,” you wheezed. “Honestly, you’re not that fucking delusional, right? He doesn’t want you. He never will.”

Jade was before you in two steps, slapping you hard across the face. “You don’t know that!” she shrieked. “You can’t know that! I am going to be the best thing that ever happened to him!”

You spat out a mouthful of blood from where your teeth had cut into your cheek when she hit you. “Sure thing, Don Quixote. You keep poking those windmills.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW!” She shouted.

“I know you’re a Hydra murderer,” you countered. “Bucky knows it, too. We’ve seen the footage of you, you know, in your little base, with all your little Bucky cutouts. How you drew hearts in lipstick around them before you went off to touch yourself. We fucking laughed at you. How absolutely fucking pathetic you are. We saw what you did to the other operatives. Do you honestly think Bucky’s going to want to be with someone who has so much blood on her hands? Please.”

Jade reached over and grabbed your wrist, squeezing, and though it hurt as if she were trying her damnedest to crush your bones, you nearly wept with joy when she accidentally pressed the button on your bangle that activated the distress signal. The relief that washed through you at the familiar warm vibration as the signal began to transmit was palpable. 

“We’re the same,” Jade seethed. “Him and I, we were made for each other. He’s going to see that. I just need to get him to come home, back where he belongs, and he’ll remember.” She let go of you and began pacing the room. “He’ll remember how much he loved having blood on his hands, too.”

“The Winter Soldier’s gone, Carthage,” you called after her. “He’s gone, and he’s not coming back. And Bucky is never going to want you. He’s not a killer, and he sure as shit doesn’t want to be with one. The sooner you come to realize that, the better off you’re going to be.”

In a flash, Jade was snapping her forehead into your face, sending your head spinning with pain. You felt blood begin trickling down your nose, and wondered briefly if she’d broken it. “He wanted me enough to fuck me, Pocket,” she murmured maddeningly, reaching to grab her phone. “Or have you forgotten?”

She flipped through the screens before opening up a video, and you realized with a sickening sensation that it was a video of her and Bucky in the safehouse in Russia. “Does Bucky know you recorded him?” you asked, disgusted. “Or are you that much of a sick freak that you’d do it without his consent?”

Jade slapped you again, though it didn’t hurt as much this time. You must be going numb to the pain. 

“You’re gonna watch it,” she said, putting the screen in front of your face. You tried to turn away, but she gripped your chin, forcing you to face the screen. “You’re gonna watch how much he wants me, how good I make him feel. And you’re gonna watch when I make him come inside of me.”

You wanted nothing more than to fight her, than to close your eyes and ignore what she was about to show you, but a sick part of yourself demanded that you look, to face this final act of Bucky’s betrayal of you, once and for all. Grinning, Jade pressed the play button on her phone and put the screen to your face, so close you could see nothing else. 

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[heartthrobin]

yellow light (1)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 2.0k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is emotionally constipated, angst

an: i've been dying to write a villain!reader for a while now and i actually have a lot planned for these two if y'all want to see more let me know <3 remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: Miguel could find you across worlds, across dimensions. he'd only need to look for his yellow light.

part two

evenings at HQ are quiet.

by eight, most spiders have crawled back into the arms of their MJs or their Gwens. and by nine, only Miguel’s heartbeat rings louder than the buzz of computers.

Lyla pops in with an occasional “you should go home” and he ignores her like he does every night. she doesn’t do it so much anymore.  

a light flickers against the computer, it pings softly. alert urgent enough to assume he’d received an email. Miguel’s eyes find the notification.

Anomaly detected! Earth-8901!

it wasn’t that anomalies clocked off, like the spiders did.

Miguel sighs, tight and curt. he glances over his shoulder as if there stood a row of spider-people itching to go fight. he finds only his shadow stretching far down the empty office.

Lyla glitches into form, leaning against a mug that had been growing steadily colder since he’d made it and abandoned it an hour ago. “you’d think even anomalies need sleep—”

she taps a couple times on the screen and live feed from Earth-8901 streams across the monitors. it’s a generic scene: police car lights flash, there is the steady rumble of people talking in frantic voices. they’re, unoriginally, in front of a bank.

Miguel rolls his left shoulder back, it’s fruitless in easing the tension there. “go see if there’s anyone still around. they can come help with this before they leave.”

there’s a flash on the screen and Miguel’s hand falls off his shoulder. his eyes find the screen again, they flicker frantically over it.

“wait.” he directs Lyla, hand held out.  

between the sirens, he hears it. he could pinpoint it over dimensions and in the crowd of a rock-concert if whispered. that giggle.

yellow light flashes again, a crack of lightning, and you appear on the hood of a police car. you’re keeling over laughing – Miguel doesn’t find it villainous, like he should. instead it warms a pit deep in his stomach.

“oh look,” Lyla folds her legs over each other, glancing back at him amused. “it’s your little girlfriend.”

he doesn’t grant her an answer, he’s focused on your miniaturised figure. it’s blurry, but it’s undoubtedly you.

there’s another crack and you’re gone, bullets fly through the spot you’d just occupied and the police car is a pile of smouldering ash.

“i’ll sort this out.” Miguel says. it’s strained, gruffer than most of what he says is.

 “you don’t want back up? i’m sure there’s still some Peters hanging around?” but Lyla’s grinning that wide grin she does when she knows she’s pushing her boss’ buttons.

“no.” the portal spills orange and red and pink light into the dimly lit room. “and you stay here.”

her little hand came to her face, eyes rolling when she offers a half-assed salute. “whatever you say, boss.”

the air is sticky where he steps out onto a rooftop. Miguel feels where the humidity crowds over his face and against his palms, it’s the syrupy warmth that follows where you go.  

down in the street below is the image he’d been watching off the monitor. heavily armed policemen were drawing closer to the doors of the bank where you were no doubt inside wreaking havoc.

you had no inclination for money, he knew that, but your chase for chaos? endless.

overhead, a chopper is flying low over the scene. cameras and news-women flock the barricades blocking the street. Miguel rests a hand over the railing, mask crawling up over his head. he is quietly assessing the easiest way past meddling cops when his thoughts are dissolved by a crack. it’s so loud, so close, and the brightness of the light screws his eyes shut.

“what’cha looking at?”

when his eyes open, you’re leaning over the railing. you’re grinning down on the street as if you aren't the cause for commotion.

your dress shivers where you bounce on the balls of your feet. that goddamn yellow doll dress, the villain uniform you insist on donning. it did unspeakable things to Miguel's psyche. the way it fluttered at the tops of your thighs, that your whole clavicle was exposed and just fucking begging for him to run his lips across your shoulders.

your mask is hanging loosely in your hand.

"i thought i told you to stay in your dimension."

you shrugged. your hair was held up by bows of canary ribbons and they swayed where you tilted your head petulantly at him. "c'mon, Miggy, where's the fun in that?"

he's still made no effort to move, head cocked to watch you. your figure swims in his shadow, small beneath his frame.

you were glowing like you did most of the time. a golden light that permeated the dark night air. Lyla once commented that you were a walking lightbulb.

but it's dimmed. you were losing power, wasting it by flashing up to bother him on this rooftop. Miguel knows more about your condition than he needs to.

"they happened to fix the super collider on my earth, so i thought i'd take it for a spin." you speak again.

Miguel's eyes narrow.

you cave, whole body loosening and eyes rolling. "fine. i held a couple scientists against their will and forced them to fix it, but that's hardly what's important."

your words chase each other around his brain. your smile is fracturing, he hasn't heard your little laugh once since you'd appeared beside him.

"why?"

little ribbons swinging, you ignore his question.

"take off your mask for goodness sake." your head lolls to the side, almost against your shoulder. "haven't seen you in ages."

the red and blue mask slips back.

half because Miguel found he could never find it within himself to say no to you and half because he wanted to soak in the view of your face with his own eyes and not through his grainy visor.

he finds it was worth it because you smile again, that smile that could call him home from dimensions away.

"pretty as ever, O' Hara."

"why did you fix the super collider?"

you recoil, like he's lashed at you. your eyes find the street again and you shrug but don't answer him.

Miguel lets the silence permeate. even the ruckus in the street quietens, but he thinks that maybe all sounds do when you're around.

you shuffle your feet until your shoulder finds his side where his arms hang purposelessly. when your skin finds his, there's an electrical snap and he flinches just slightly. you don't mention it.

"don't the lights look pretty?" the commotion still holds your gaze.

trying desperately not to cave into your touch, not to pull your glowing face into his palms, Miguel sucks in a breath of composure. "to rob a bank, is that why? couldn't rob a bank on your own earth?"

"you wouldn't come if i robbed a bank back home."

the sentence hangs. your head finds his side.

"what?" it's barely a whisper, barely a sound, but you catch it.

"i mean," you push yourself off him, voice relighting with that theatrical quality that hid the tremble beneath your words. "i got the hint, you don't like me - you made that clear - but i just wanted to see ya' one last time. you know?"

Miguel hated the voice you put on. it was ungenuine and you used it on cops and other spidermen. not him.

"so i thought i'd do a quick pop in, see if you were around--"

"when did i ever make that clear that i didn't like you?"

gravel of torn brick crunched beneath your foot where you turned to face him again. Miguel found that your eyes were wet, the same eyes that blinked at him when he closed his own.

"i asked you to come." your voice wobbled and it was like a scalding poker meandering between his organs. "i asked you to come. to visit me."

of course he remembers when. it was the last time you'd been dragged from an earth that wasn't yours, when you'd gone for a joy-ride between dimensions really just for the fun of it.

Jessica was clipping some handcuffs around your wrist, the kind that Miguel invented to subdue powers. he remembers how your light flickered all the way out, leaving only the shine that could never rub off your eyes.

despite the metal clipping your wrists, you'd grinned up at Miguel.

"you gonna come visit me, Miggy?" Jessica huffed, tugging you in the direction of the portal.

Miguel didn't like how rough Jessica was being, despised the thought of dark bruises around your wrists, but didn't say anything on it.

he settled with: "it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

your eyes twinkled. "just once?"

he almost smiled.

"i'll think about it."

you weren't satisfied. "promise?"

he'd nodded. he thought it'd make you go easier. "i promise i'll think about it."

he realised now that it had only made it easier to watch you go.

your shine flickers like a lamp in a haunted house. "i waited. you never came."

it wasn't true.

"yn." he calls out gently across the space dividing your body from his. he takes a cautious step.

it wasn't true that he "never came". Miguel visits your dimension more than his own apartment.

in the moments where Lyla ushers him home, her static voice echoing over his shoulder: "you need sleep", he'd slip out quietly.

sometimes it's morning already, he watches you trip over your feet out your apartment building. you're consistently late to your first class.

other times it's Friday night and you're dolled up, primped in a short skirt and dirty sneakers. you're with other girls, you all stumble together to and from the bar down the street.

Miguel's never had the balls to announce his presence. he quietly enjoys you in the moments you're just ... yn. physics major and perpetual night owl. enjoys watching you at three am when you tinker at your desk with copper cables and wires and entertain yourself with a loose lightbulb where you flicker it on and off and on and off with just a brush of your finger over the glass.

when you've made it home - drunk, but safe - or grown bored of your trinkets and crawled into bed with slow blinks, only then does he conjure the portal and return to his own lonely apartment.

"that's the answer to your question." you're not facing him again. "i just wanted to see you one more time."

this time he tucks his cowardice in his pocket and Miguel moves to you, out from the shadows into the warmth of your light. his chest presses to your back, head finding the side of yours.

you nuzzle his temple with your own, melt against his frame like you were built to be slotted against his chest.

"lo siento, mi amor." words scramble in his mouth. he chokes on all the sentiments he could share. mostly i love you, please ask me again to come with you.

his hand finds your hip, he squeezes the fatty tissue there. you sigh.

your palm finds his cheek, it sparks but Miguel is ready for it this time and doesn't flinch. you nudge his face so it hovers over yours.

"i thought you might say that."

the soft pad of your finger runs over the edge of his jaw. you twist so you're facing him, jailed beneath his wide shoulders and Miguel realises that your lashes are even longer up close.

he nudges his nose against yours. "it's the truth."

your eyes flutter shut, you shake your head.

warm lips press up into the apple of his cheek. his stomach curls dangerously at the wet touch.

"maybe one day you'll prove it then, Miggy." you whisper against his skin.

he leans further down, desperate and itching to catch your lips against his this time, but your palm finds his chest first.

electricity chases down his veins like blood on fire.

Miguel's body is launched with the volts of a bolt of lightning and barely feels where his shoulders crumble through brick and plaster of the building over. he wrestles with unconsciousness and loses, body twitching and spasming from the surge of your power when the darkness envelopes him.

when he comes to, the sun is peaking over the nearest building and you are long gone.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@lovely-vamp-princess @yeetmetothesky @mdsbabygirl @wyldeflovver @literally-a-god @the-great-ladyg @yerimsho @kerbulkdystchan @sandwich-picklebelly18 @ghostingtheinternet @readinghoes @stqrlightrs @vampiremiguel950 @snowdrop987 @vikingqueen28 @dakumoon-00000 @ilovewoc @sparklytoaster @animequeen4 @neytirisgfreal @shinononstan @queerponcho @edgaluten @mxn14 @jollycandybanana @jxnnav @mik-bxrnes @hotbisexualmess @judeeduartte @omg-kitzia-blr @over-the-moon-for-you @daedaep69 @snailss @mysteriouserrorrr @dazeydelrey @16bruises @brownskin-bunny @littlelfreak @simeon-lovergirl @sticksheaad @miguelslefteyebrow @crazy-ravioli @sweethxneytea @starsluver @obi-mom-kenobi @that-freaky-mysterious-one @cheermoon @lipstickmarks @vaporwave8chan @chiyoyooo @agentr13 @stargazingcarol @keeninternetchaos

[raz-writes-the-thing]

perhaps a lil crowley x reader req?

inspired by strange love by halsey?

as a treat?

not me going into this song for the first time (never heard it before) expecting something super melancholy. anyway! here you go, cutie!

Requests are: OPEN

No Pity for the Wicked (18+ ONLY)

Masterlist

Crowley x GN!Reader

No use of Y/N or pronouns (They/Them used only)

CW: angst, angry fucking, hair pulling, Crowley ignoring his feelings (canon honestly)

It's been six months since he left. Crowley's Angel. His best friend. His other half. It's been six months since he's heard a Goddamn peep.

And yes, he doesn't care so much anymore about blaspheming against the name of God. He was always so careful about it around his Angel.

Now? His Angel is gone. His Angel isn't there to care what he says.

Gone to follow along with the Metatron's plan all the way to his and everyone else's destruction, no doubt. How could Aziraphale not see that? How could Aziraphale not see past the surface to the rot underneath? And they called Hell ruthless.

Nevertheless, the last six months had been Heaven on Earth for Crowley. His only Hellish piece of reprieve was his favourite pet. His mortal. They'd all been friends before Aziraphale left.

Well, this moral had accompanied him and his Angel around despite their warnings against it. A Demon and an Angel could be discorporated and come back, but a mortal? Well, one little mistake and they were gone for good.

This little human. This pet had stuck extra close to Crowley since Aziraphale had left. Crowley hated to see the pity and concern painting their face when he was having a particularly awful, nice day. Not that any of them were all that... Hellish any more.

But it was the pity that really irritated Crowley- a Demon already prone to frustration and mild to moderate anger issues, mind you. And if this human- asked him one- more- time, if he was okay; he was going to lose it.

Of course, as humans were always going to (a flaw in the design if you asked Crowley)- this particular mortal would push, and push, and push until Crowley's metaphorical buttons were all but snapped in half. And Crowley had had enough.

And that's how Crowley found himself balls deep inside his pitying little mortal, doing his damndest to convince them that, actually, no. Crowley did not need their pity.

Crowley snarled above them, pulling at their hair, yanking their head back away from the Bentley's door. His mortal's breath fanned across the windows, streaking the glass with damning evidence of the acts being carried out within.

"I- am a Demon," he snarls, teeth flashing dangerously by the mortal's ear. "I am not to be pitied." This is emphasised with a hard thrust from behind, causing the mortal to yelp, hand slapping up against the fogged glass to keep themselves steady.

Crowley lets out a deranged throaty chuckle, hand coming down to grip harshly at his pet's hip.

"I've lived eons on this pathetic excuse for a planet. This Earth-" The hand wraps harder around the mortals' hair. The hand on the glass slips, smearing through the fog marks. It's a wonder they can hear Crowley over the sounds of their own whimpers and moans. "This breeding ground for sin. I have seen eons of pain, and I'll see eons more!"

Crowley's head tips back, baring his throat's apple. A little lock of hair falls over his forehead- the only indication that he was at all affected by the pleasure of his hips snapping forward into the tight heat before him.

His mortal whines out Crowley's name, lost in the haze of being fucked by a Demon. Crowley had had thousands of years to learn how to fuck the way Humans liked it. More than enough time, clearly, given the fact they'd already come twice and another was well on the way.

Of course, the mortal knew deep down that this was not a convincing way for him to show them that Crowley was okay. That was obvious to anyone with half a brain cell, but this didn't mean they were going to argue- what with Crowley's decidedly not entirely human-feeling dick buried inside them.

"Fuck- Crowley-" They whined, eyes squeezing shut.

"No," Crowley hisses, twisting their hair so the mortal could just see him over their shoulder. They couldn't see his eyes though, sunglasses still hiding those from them. A coping mechanism, they suspected. "Look at me, pet. Look at me when you cum."

The mortal whines, hand reaching back to brush Crowley's hip in warning. They were sure the human body wasn't quite meant to be this flexible, but Crowley didn't care. He needed this, whether he knew it or not.

Crowley's thrusts increase with urgency, both for himself and his mortal. They're both close, and they know it. Crowley lets go of his pet's hair, allowing their head to flop forward and their cheek to press against the Bentley's leather backseat.

With his other hand free, Crowley is able to grip both sides of their hips and pull them back against him, thrusting hard and fast to reach that blissful peak where he might be able to forget. Just for a moment.

His mortal finishes with a cry, fingers grappling with the leather as they try to work their way through the assault. Crowley fucks them through their orgasm, prolonging the pleasure they're feeling without mercy.

It takes only a few more thrusts before he finishes too, coating their insides with ropes of his cum, an almost-roar ripping its way through his throat. The pleasure hazes his brain for a minute or two, courses of pleasure wrapping around his nerves.

Slowly, he pulls out, watching the way his mess starts to drip out of his mortal. He chuckles breathily and waves a hand to miracle away the mess. He's kept the Bentley in such pristine condition all these years. He's not going to let it go now.

"I- do not- need your pity," he pants, pointing an accusatory finger at his mortal who promptly nods and collapses against him, snuggling up close. They know it's not true. They know he needs them right now.

They're happy to wait as long as it takes though.

Crowley's worth it.

[annie-creates]

Finally home

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1400

Note: So this is my 30th fic and it's also the first day of spring so I wanted to put out this little thing that's been living in my head rent free lately. It is far from the fandoms I normally write for but here we are. I'm warning you the events of the game are kinda swithed around to fit the story. I hope you'll like it anyway.

Life hasn’t been easy on you. From the moment your mother sent you to a Firefly base when you were still just a child, you had to fight and fend for yourself. Earning everything you had, contributing to be fed, helping to have a place to sleep, growing up has been tough. And still you could thank heavens you were placed with the Fireflies who protected you and took care of you in the apocalypse. You imagined the worst thing that could happen to someone was to be left alone. You had friends amongst the other children, adults who brought you up, and Abby.

Abby was never too close nor too far from you, having closer friends but always keeping an eye out for you. You were inseparable back in the Salt Lake City, and even when your group disbanded, you followed her anywhere she wanted to go, your next refuge being the WLFs. You never questioned her, never doubted her decisions. Not until she killed Joel Miller. You understood, Abby’s dad being the closest thing you had to your own, but even after she leveled the score, the hunger for revenge didn’t settle. The more ruthless she became the more you drifted apart.

All the tension or fondness was lost in the days and weeks she spent away hunting down members of Ellie’s group. If you were once friends, now you were hardly two people who used to know each other. Yet you never lost your hope in her, believing she’ll come to her senses and actually live her life focused on herself and not the blood of others. The rumors of Fireflies regrouping gave you hope. You’d finally find a home again together.

“Abby please, fuck this WLF shit and let’s just go back.” You reasoned with her, when you met by luck after another few months not hearing from each other.

“I still have shit to do here.” She argued unwavering in her stance.

“Like what? We both know Isaac’s plan is trash.” You furrowed your brows at her.

“Just because you’re not at the top of the game doesn’t mean everyone else is dumber than you Y/n.” She scoffed at you.

“Excuse me, I don’t give a shit what ranking he gave to anyone!” You folded you hands over your chest.

“Yeah yeah, just because you’re low. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t like being a commander.” She taunts you.

“Now you’re just being mean. You know I don’t give a fuck about that.” You weren’t going to let her off that easily this time.

“You’re just jealous. Go run back to the Fireflies where you’re cared for like the lost puppy you are and leave the real job to the big girls.” She levels you with a look of cruelty and disdain.

“Fine. But don’t run back to me when you get lost again.” Shaking your head you leave to pack your backpack so you can have a head start for when the WLF finds out you’re a traitor.

You didn’t give a shit anymore for any one of them, you didn’t want to join any petty fights for territory of supplies. You wanted to live as close to a normal person as anyone could and maybe, just maybe try and help save the world somehow, or make it just a little bit better. You couldn’t do that at the WLF, but with the Fireflies you could at least try. They weren’t saints, but in comparison to the WLF and Seraphites they were your safest option. Maybe it was finally time to let Abby go her way after the countless times you tried to save her from the fate she was choosing for herself.

As you’re packing to leave, you hear Abby in an argument with Mel. You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. “You’re a piece of shit, Abby.” Is all you can make out before Mel slams the door and you leave in fear of being discovered watching their moment. You didn’t agree, but you couldn’t argue against it either. The more time passed on the more questionable choices Abby was making. The last thing you wanted to do was abandon Abby, yet that’s what she was continuously forcing you to do. Maybe you needed to listen to your own advice and start focusing on your own life instead of others.

While she runs off to do god knows what with god knows who, you travel to the Catalina Island alone. It was a loose thread, but it was still a better shot than nothing. Plus it wasn’t like you could turn back and crawl back to the WLF begging for their forgiveness, if there even was any WLF anymore. And to your luck, the Fireflies excitedly accept you back, happy to regain one of Anderson’s medical students you used to be back in Salt Lake City before your mission to save the population and find a cure went to trash. For months you watched out for any rumors of tracks of Abby but all the leads run cold. The group couldn’t contact her even when she made a contact with them some time after you joined, promising to arrive in a few days. But few days turned into months and Abby Anderson was considered lost and dead, even though no one talked about it or mentioned it.

Until you found her. She and one of the new boys she met, Lev, in a boat arrived at the island in a pitiful state of barely living. Being part of the medical team now, you treated their injuries and took care of nursing them back to health. While you left Lev to be watched over by the team, you couldn’t stand leaving Abby in such cold and unwelcoming place unknown to her. So you took her to rest in your own apartment not too far away, laying her down on your washed out pillows but in warm sheets and clean duvets none the less.

“Y/n.” She states with a horse voice she clearly hasn’t used for some time.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” You assure her cleaning her bleeding wounds.

As she falls back into her delirious dreams you treat her injuries dressing them up in a clean white gauze, finding many new cuts and bruises, some of which you could hardly imagine what caused them. Even her face was littered with wounds deep enough to leave a nasty scar. She lost a noticeable amount of muscle and her once toned arms seemed weaker now cover in blood. Her dirty blonde hair you often braided for her were messily cut off too short and covered in layers of dirt and soil.

“Hey, you need to drink something.” You carefully wake her up to get her started back on some fluids as soon as possible.

“Hmh...” She clearly wanted to say something but she hardly had the energy to even stay conscious.

“Don’t, it’s gonna be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” You pacify her after you half force some water into her.

“Don’t leave!” She catches your arm weakly with the most scared and vulnerable look you’ve ever seen on her.

“I won’t.” you assure her as you lay down in bed next to her, careful not to touch any of her wounds to not cause her any more discomfort or pain.

“Just hold me.” Abby pleads with you, but she didn’t have to ask you twice.

“I’ve got you. You’ll be okay.” You comfort her as you stroke her short hair and hold her shivering shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Abby whines halfway unconscious again.

“Don’t be. You’re home. You are cared for.” You whisper to her as you rock her weakened body back to sleep.

You give her a little kiss into the crown of her hair. She was still the most beautiful and precious thing to you, no matter her crimes and punishments. It will grow back eventually. Her injuries will heal, and all of this will become just a faded memory over time. You’ll help her fight off any scarecrows and demons of her past, in her dreams and in the reality. She was finally back, and you won’t ever let her leave again. You both already lost too much in your hunt for revenge and justice. You finally found your home.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Sixteen}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

"N-No..." I mutter. I didn't want anything to do with anymore overlords. Velvette scoffed. "Don't lie to me. I don't forget faces so easily. What the fuck is your name even?" She asks, putting a hand to her hip. My voice was shaky as I spoke. "Y/n."

"Hm. And how did you get so close to that old ass radio guy?" She raises an eyebrow. "He isn't exactly friendly. Don't tell me your his girlfriend or something." I quickly shake my head. "No! Nothing like that!"

"Then what is it? He just suddenly have a change of heart?" I took a hesitant step back. I really, really, didn't want to be having this conversation with Velvette of all people. As I moved, my back hit against something.

I look behind me to see Alastor. "Velvette. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop interrogating miss Y/n, here." Velvet scowled and crossed her arms. "Excuse me, but who the hell are you to order me around, old man?" Alastor's smile thinned. "Are the other two V's with you? Or are you just out looking to start trouble?"

Velvette scoffed, shifting her weight onto one foot. "No, just me. And if anyone is looking to start trouble, it's you. I'd watch yourself, oldie."

"Oh, he isn't so old." Came Rosie's voice as she joined Alastor's side. "Now, young lady, I suggest you go about your business. I'd hate for such a lovely café to be destroyed because of a slight...argument." There was a slight hiss in her voice towards the end.

Velvette glared at the two, Alator and Rosie returned the harsh stare. I felt my heart sink. Were they about to fight? And I would be caught up right in the middle!?

Thankfully Velvette backed off. "Whatever. I'm not wasting anymore time with you two fossils." She says as she walks past them. I sigh a breath if relief.

"My, I will never get use her attitude." Rosie says with a shake of her head. "Y/n, are you alright honey?" She asks me. I only nod my head. "Rosie, dear, I hate to cut our day short. But I'm afraid I have to get Y/n back to the hotel." Said Alastor.

Rosie waved her hand. "Oh don't worry. We can reschedule for another day, when the undesirables aren't roaming the streets."

"Of course." Alastor grins. "Shall I send your order to your residence?" Asked Rosie. Alastor nods his head. "Please do. Come long Y/n." He says, turning to me. I follow him silently.

"You two dipshits won't believe who I just ran into." Velvette says as she makes her way into Voxtek studios. The two "dipshits", she was referring too, were her fellow overlords. Valentino, and Vox. Vox, rolled his eyes before speaking. "Oh, do tell."

"Radio Bitch and his pal Grandma Rosie." She starts. "Not only them, but you remember that woman Alastor had with him at that ball? She was there too." Vox's previous disinterest quickly diminished, his look of surprise slowly turning sinister. "So, Alastor does have it in him to be friendly." He chuckles. "Now, what in the fuck could be so special about her?"

"Perhaps he's finally found someone who can get his rocks off." Valentino smirked. "Doubt it." Vox shrugs. "That motherfucker would kill someone for accidently brushing up against him."

"She might be just another dumbass who made a deal with him." Said Velvette. "But..." She mutters. "But?" Vox raises an eyebrow. "He did get awfully testy when I was "pestering" her." Velvette finishes. Vox laughed. "Oh don't tell me he's actually gotten attached! That's fucking precious!" Vox then smirks. "I think we all know what should be done now. Only question is, how are we going to do it?"

"How does she look?" Valentino asks. "You were there at the ball, how did you not see her?" Asked Velvette. Valentino just shrugs. Velvette rolls her eyes. "She's pretty decent looking, if you must know."

"Maybe I'll hit her up sometime. See if she's looking for work." Valentino chuckles lowly. "I'm always looking for new flesh."

"Gross." Velvette mutters. "Nah, I don't think we should do that. Not yet anyway." Vox spoke up. Valentino sighed. "Why?" He asked. "Use that brain of yours for once. If Alastor is as attached as we think he is, we could use that broad as leverage. Then, we do whatever the fuck with her after we get what we want." Vox explains.

"Also, Velvette, don't go spreading any word about this right away. We want to be sure before we actually go through with this." Velvette shrugs. "Whatever. I'm not trying to catch any flack for spreading misinformation, especially on something I don't really give a shit about."

"Think you can hold off too Val?" Asked Vox. Valentino nods. "For now."

"Then we're all in agreement." Vox smirks. "Better be ready Alastor, cause you're about to get royally fucked."

"I think I've had my fill with overlords." I mutter as Alastor and I approach the hotel. "That would be the third one you've met face to face. Fourth, if you include me. I understand, though, you're in hell now. You see us overlords everywhere." Alastor tells me.

"It will be one of the many things I will not miss when I leave this awful place." I say with a light sigh. Alastor went silent. As we made our way up the steps to the doorway, I look up at him. "How did you end up in hell?" I asked. Alastor glanced down at me.

"Are you sure you can handle the answer you'll get?" He says with a smirk. "I mean...I've been to a city full of cannibals and watched someone be murdered and devoured in the streets like it was nothing. I think I'll be fine." Alastor chuckles at my response. "Fair enough." He paused for a moment before speaking.

"I was a murder in my living days." Not surprising. "As well as a cannibal." Unnerving, but also not surprising. "My first kill was at the ripe age of twenty seven. Yes, I still remember it like it was yesterday." He said with a longing sigh. "Though, I didn't start the who cannibal thing until my third kill."

"How many did you kill exactly?" I ask, unsure if I really wanted to know the answer. "Got away with twelve, and unfortunately my fun was ended on my thirteenth."

"You were caught?" I tilt my head.

"I was killed." Alastor corrects. "Shot dead by a hunter. Right in the ol' bullseye!" He says, pointing to his forehead. "I see." I nod my head. "Alright, I told you how I died. I think it's only fair you tell me yours." Said Alastor.

We walk inside of the hotel and make our way through the halls. "It's...not a great death. You'd be bored." I mutter. "Come now, I'm sure it's not that bad." Alastor waved his hand. I look away from him before exhaling. "Fell down a flight of stairs. Broken neck." I mutter. "Is that right?" Alastor asks.

I nod, trying to fight back the tears gathering in my eyes. Unfortunately for me, Alastor noticed. "But that's not quite the full story?" I shake my head.

"It wasn't a fall...I was pushed." My voice cracked. "I see. Murder then." Alastor nods. "I assume you know who did it too."

"My fiancé. Only a month before we were going to get married too." Alastor stays quiet. "We...weren't in love. We never were. I thought we were, but...I was blinded by nice gestures and empty words. He convinced me he actually loved me, and in the end, it resulted in my death. I...kinda always knew it would too. And I knew he would be the cause of it...It's my own fault. I should have left sooner. It's like I was asking for him to do it."

"Nonsense."

I look up at Alastor, despite the sharpness in his tone. His expression was neutral. "What?"

"People can be deceiving. They'll break your heart and piece it all back together with the bare minimum. And sadly, it works in most cases. You're right. Unfortunately for you, and for many people, it can result in someone ending up dead."

"Alastor?"

"I believe this is your stop." I look ahead to see the door to my room. "Goodbye for now Y/n." Without another word, Alastor left. I only watched as he walked away.

[kelcemenow]

Your Voice - Chapter 1.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1118

Warnings Strong language, that's all.

This Anon request piqued my interest as I used to read a lot of Soulmate AU fanfiction 'back in the day' and I really liked this idea! AU's give me so much creative freedom...and a chance to go back to college Travis!! Now, I wasn't going to make this a series but as I was writing, I realised it is going to have to be as I had a great idea for it! I hope you enjoy! "Can I request a Travis k x soulmate au? pls 😩"

CHAPTER 1

"What did your Soulmate say today?"

You looked up from your lunch, pausing from pushing a piece of lettuce around the plate with your fork.

"Go long, man." You rolled your eyes as you repeated what you had heard earlier that day, "I'm honestly past caring at this point."

Chloe clapped her hands and jumped a little in her seat, "So, he's a sports guy? Maybe we should scope out the teams and see if you recognise anyone's voice?"

You sighed, "Chloe, I really don't care anymore. I've been hearing his voice for 3 months now. This college is huge, it would take me forever to find him here. Plus, some days I can't even make out what he's saying, it's so faint and muffled, I doubt I'd even recognise it."

Chloe twisted her mouth as she thought, "I could get us some invites to the jock parties?"

"You're not listening to me at all are you, are you?" You returned to your salad.

"We'll get you looking super hot, see if the voice gets louder at any of them, get talking to guys and then before you know it, you've found your Soulmate!"

"No, then." You said whilst chewing on your chicken.

Chloe reached across and held your hand, "But this is so exciting. Think of poor me, Y/N. My Soulmates voice was so loud back home, I come here and now I can't hear him at all. You've actually got a chance of meeting yours, he's obviously here! So, let's go and find him."

You stared across the lunch table at her, your face unchanging.

Chloe slowly retreated back into her seat and picked up her Diet Coke can, "Okay. I'll try again later."

______________________________________________________________

You stretched in your seat, rubbing your eyes and looking down at your watch.

10.15pm.

You ran your hands through your hair and closed your study books and files, calling it a night. Looking around the library, you noticed that you were now the only one there. You packed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. The campus was relatively quiet as you walked back to your dormitory, the night sky quickly darkening with the dusk. Your footsteps rang out into the night, accompanied only occasionally with muffled music coming from the nearby houses. Suddenly, a tall figure appeared ahead. You instinctively grabbed the strap of your backpack, ready to launch the heavy contents if needed. Each step seemed to get louder in your ears and the sky darkened further.

As you got closer, the figure turned to face you and the dim streetlights revealed the stranger.

"Oh, Travis. It's just you." You sighed in relief.

Travis Kelce wasn't a complete stranger to you. He was a pretty big character on campus, but didn't exactly run in your circles. He was holding a bottle of beer and was stood on the steps of one of the sorority houses, presumably having stepped outside from a party.

Travis smiled as he saw you, "Hey, Y/N. You coming in?" He pointed towards the front door with his bottle.

You shook your head quickly, "Oh no, I've been to the library."

"On a Saturday night?" He snorted a laugh, "Man, you know how to party."

You quickly raised your eyebrows, "Yeah, anyway. I'm just heading home."

Travis wrinkled his nose, "On your own? Nah, fuck that."

You held a hand up, "Really, it's fine. It's a short walk, like 2 minutes. I'm okay walking by myself."

"To hell you are. Come on, I'll walk you back, make sure you get there safe." He began to walk away from you.

"Travis, really-"

He stopped and turned back slowly, "Either you walk with me or I follow 20 yards behind you."

You smiled and sighed, "Okay, okay. Fine."

As you caught up to him, you heard the front door of the house open and a high-pitched voice shouted out.

"Travvy, baby? Where are you going?"

Tiffany, Travis' girlfriend was gripping onto the side of the door frame, seemingly to keep herself upright. She had bleached blonde hair, a modelesque figure and the reputation as one of the most popular girls on campus.

You stayed looking ahead to the sidewalk as Travis looked over his shoulder at her, "I'm just walking Y/N back to her dorm."

"Why?" Tiffany squeaked.

"Why? Because she's walking on her own and there's creeps out there." He shouted.

You glanced quickly to see Tiffany pull a face before slamming the door closed.

Travis turned back to you and raised his eyebrows.

"Really Travis, you go back to the party. I don't want to cause any issues with you and Tiffany."

"What issue? I'm just walking you home...to make sure you're safe." He cleared his throat, "Besides, Tiffany has an issue with everything I do."

You walked together in a slightly awkward silence, Travis taking a sip of his beer every now and again.

After a while, Travis turned to you, "Can I ask you a question?"

You nodded.

"Can you hear your Soulmate's voice?"

You smiled softly, "Sometimes yeah. Sometimes it's really loud, but it's mostly muffled so I can't make it out easily. Sometimes it's really quiet and it's impossible to figure out."

He looked down at his feet, "That's weird. I wonder why it's muffled."

You shrugged your shoulders, "No clue. I wish we got more, it would make it so much easier."

"Yeah, one sentence a day sucks."

You walked in silence for a few more steps.

"Is Tiffany your Soulmate?"

Travis laughed, "Nah. She's cool and all...but she's not...no."

"Are you looking for your Soulmate?"

Travis tipped his head to the side, "In a way. I mean, I hear her voice. And I listen for it as much as I can. But I'm so busy with class and football that sometimes I miss it. That's why I was outside of the party, I needed a bit of quiet time to see if I could hear her."

You looked ahead to the tall building, slowly your walking pace slightly, "This is me."

Travis looked up, "Oh, that was fast."

"Yeah, I told you it was two minutes." You giggled.

Travis rocked back on his heels, "Well, goodnight. I'd better get back to..." He trailed off as he looked back in the direction of the party, a slight frown on his face.

"Yeah. Thank you...for walking me back." You awkwardly held your hand out to Travis.

Travis looked at your hand and smirked, grabbing it tightly, "No sweat. I'll see you around?"

You nodded and headed to the front door, turning your key in the lock and stepping in. Travis watched as you disappeared into the lobby, smiling to himself.

______________________________________________________________

I'll warn you now, this fic is going to get real fluffy, real soon. I've had the idea of the chapters alternating between the point of views. So, the next chapter will be from Travis' perspective and then from the readers, and so on. If you want to be on my Taglist, just let me know!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989

[circular-bircular]

I'm putting this blog to rest.

I'm done. I'm out. And god, is it a relief.

You might notice I'm posting this around the same time that SAS is posting a major post in an effort to light the tag on fire. I highly doubt it'll work, but it's the best attempt. Me and SAS are close. Nearly one in the same, some days...

You'll notice the end of the post says, "just wait for what happens next."

This is what happens next.

I'm deleting my syscourse blogs. Finally. No "maybe I will" or "I've been considering it." I've been considering it for a loooong time, and I've actually been intending on getting rid of Circular's-Reasoning for awhile now. I just... haven't had the energy to.

But now... My life is moving on. I'm moving on, quite literally, I gain possession of my new house... probably today when I end up posting this. I'm not sure, it's my first draft, we'll see how this goes. That's terrifying to realize. I'm like... an adult. I'm an adult who's craving good conversations about my disorder, about systemhood and how it's conceptualized, and more intricate parts of my selfhood. And... Syscourse just is not that.

I've done this sort of thing before, if you all know MotCR -- @memoriesofthecircularroom, for the uninitiated. That's the OG Circular Blog, and is an archive of the first few years of syscourse. But... Now, it's going to become a bit more. Here's my game plan.

I update MotCR to be the Circular Archive. Anything I think needs archiving -- good posts of mine, silly reblogs, or just good posts overall where I added something of my own -- will get reblogged there. It's gonna be busy for a bit.

In the meantime while I start that process, I answer any and all final questions/asks or drafts that've been in the works. I don't want to leave people hanging.

I delete a lot of blogs. And... I do mean a lot -- not even just the syscourse ones. Just the ones I think it's time to let go of.

I've often teased how many blogs I have. It's fluctuated wildly in the past. But here's the down and dirty. Here's what I own, and what I'm planning on removing.

@circular-bircular (Hi, Hello, You're Here)

@circulars-reasoning (Already planned to be gone awhile ago)

@systemquirks (I just don't have the energy to run it, and I'm so sorry for that)

@yourfaveissecretlysas (Yes, I am the one running that)

@system-confessions (Surprise! No name blog that barely exists, again, I don't have the energy)

@debunkingsyscourse (Look, I make these too easily)

@equalsys (Not sure how this is a shocker to anyone)

@ricejustdidthings (An old system-no-syscourse blog I have that I don't use anymore)

@my-systems-cringe (Been meaning to delete this for ages)

@circulars-answers (Unneeded)

And potentially one other, unnamed for now blog -- that's the one I've never told people I have outside of select discords...

So that's 11 blogs I'm getting rid of, potentially more. And that's with me still keeping 2 syscourse blogs and an 18+ system blog. Jesus christ.

It feels good to get it off my chest, though. It feels really good to be leaving.

"But Circ! Your posts make me happy!"

Fantastic! You can follow the new system blog I'm going to be making, @thecircularsystem (is that link working? I don't know, it's a brand new blog.)

Try this link out instead if that doesn't work!

I'm still going to be posting system related content there. I'm still going to be doing my normal random shit that I always do. I may even dabble in syscourse -- and definitely in sysconversation. I like that tag! But I'm not going to be doing syscourse nearly as often, and I'm going to try and stay out of that tag in search of reblogs and such. Too often, it results in me getting aggressive with someone, rather than just... spreading good information about systems, or existing online as I want to exist.

I just need a refresh. A new step, a big change. I'm moving on.

I really hope you all can too <3

[osaemu]

mini-announcement, i probably won't be posting/interacting over the weekend because i have a big tournament and i'll be spending time with my team !! just a heads up in case you're wondering why i haven't replied to you or your ask yet :,) sorry about that 🤍

cw: discourse under the cut.

i didn't want to have to make this post, but lately i've been receiving a lot of anonymous asks about a certain blog and unfortunately, it's gotten to a point where i feel like i have to address it. don't take this post as being hateful in any way—this is just something i just wanted to get off my chest. this isn't a big deal, so no reblogs either, thanks.

the bottom four asks all came within a span of five minutes, so i think it's a reasonable assumption to make that they were all sent by the same person. as for who that is, i'll get into that at the end of the post.

but first of all, i can say without a doubt that i have a personality of my own. case closed. nobody's actually said how we're similar in any way, so i'll assume these are all from no-lifes who couldn't find anything better to hate on.

second of all, my netflix banner was actually inspired by another blog, who i won't namedrop for the sake of their peace. and either way, our banners don't even look similar, nor do either of us own netflix. x x

and finally, those are actually the two most braindead asks i've ever received. are we copyrighting letters now? does anyone own the letter e?

don't compare blogs/writers—it's never ended well, and it never will.

even after getting these asks, i still didn't say anything about it because.. i don't really care. everyone's entitled to their own opinion, and what you think of me is up to you.

moving on, i think tee left tumblr sometime in between that time and now, and i was told by a mutual that i was mentioned within the post. if i'm being completely honest, i didn't read all of it because we have each other blocked anyways and it was a lot to read through.. so i skimmed over the bit about me, but didn't really see anything of interest, which is why i didn't address it.

i also had anons on at the time, and i did think it was interesting how i didn't receive a single ask about tee from then up until today, about a month later. up until a couple hours ago, i hadn't even thought about her because, again, i don't care. this is tumblr dot com, not my love life. most of the drama here is over pixels anyways, so i don't waste my day thinking about it.

neither of these are particularly interesting, but the fact that you weirdos are still associating me with someone who i'm not even mutuals with is.. not to my liking.

idk what false accounts the second anon's talking about, because i don't go looking for drama. if you need proof, here's how many sideblogs i have... (click the image)

zero!

as for the idea that i'm jealous of tee, i'm perfectly fine with the amount of followers i have now. i've always been open about my satisfaction with my interaction rates, and that hasn't changed.

and obviously, tee's a good writer—when have i ever said otherwise? if it was based solely off of writing, i would say that she deserves every single one of her followers, maybe even more. i don't think anybody on this app would disagree with me when i say that she's genuinely one of the best fanfic writers i've come across.

however, i won't support someone just because i like their content. i've stopped listening to many artists because i didn't like who they were as a person, and similarly, once i read the reblogs on a certain callout post, i stopped consuming tee's content as well.

there's a reason i avoided making this post in the past—because i don't really have anything to say. tee and i have never had a directly negative interaction, as i'm sure you all can see in her archival post. the reason i don't support her anymore is because i didn't particularly like how she never spoke up about her followers sending death threats to other followers. that's it.

while i have my guesses as to who sent those anons, i don't care enough to find out. and i think it's better that way. this conflict's been dragged on for long enough, and this is my way of saying that i'd like to be excluded from this narrative from now on.

tee, if someone sends you this post at some point, feel free to contact me if you'd like to clear anything up. we're both adults, and i think we can agree that nothing monumental has happened between us to cause any of this. honestly, the only people dragging this on are the weirdo anons in my inbox.

to whoever's reading this post, thank you for listening to my side of the story—it was nice to be able to get this off my chest. wish me luck at my tournament, and i'll be back after the weekend !! 🤍

[rulanarinrush]

drdt ch2 ep 14 spoilers. just general thoughts. also, i express a bit more opinions in here than normal, but I don't mean it as criticism. It's just personal preference, so please don't feel offended if you disagree.

So Ace vs. Eden huh... if I hadddd to bet on those two and not a third option it would be Ace? Just purely from an evidence standpoint. David is kind of right that this "bda" rule is incredibly flimsy not just for the scenario he pointed out, but because Eden could have closed her eyes and flinched right at the moment of Arei's drop, because even if she could do something if the mechanism went wrong i severely doubt Eden is faster than gravity. Not much to be done there even if something doesn't go according to plan. Like with the "all murderers must be punished" rule im sure that will be used in a murder plan at some point.

There is one thing I think that wasn't discussed in Nico's attempted murder plan, and that's how did they get Ace in the gym? I don't mean "how did they knock him out." I mean that the plan is very specific, and the playground and relaxation room don't exactly have things that are easy to hang someone from(without a rope, obviously.) I can't measure the length of the wire but considering that the playground is two-storeys tall if Nico's plan could've also worked in the playground, does that thing even count as a wire anymore or is that just a sharp whip that was condemned by god.

Back to the main point, how did Nico just happen to get Ace on the right floor? I don't think they had to knock him out in the gym specifically, but it is WILD to me that anyone would take the risk of knocking Ace out on the first floor and dragging him to the elevators like at that point just stab the guy and be done with it. So it makes more sense to me that Ace went to the second floor of his own volition, and Nico followed him. But this is where I think Teruko and Nico might become pivotal in defending Eden. I can't remember the episode she says this in anymore, but right before they hear the fan break, Eden says "I know you've been following me!" She could of course just be paranoid that someone watching her prepare for a murder,(starchy ball of clothing, esp with teruko's clothes right there and teruko) but it could mean that she sensed someone following her right after the Arei-Arturo thing. Ace can of course easily defend this as saying he went to the gym to work out(makes sense tbh) but if Nico says they caught him off guard with the chlo-- turpentine because Ace was hiding and watching something, that may definitively prove that he is at least more suspicious than Eden. After all, this guy is no stranger to eavesdropping on people's conversations, and it is an ... interesting coincidence to be both where the victim was right before she was lured out and the person the killer intended to frame. Also for this to work, he was probably the one eavesdropping on at least the first half of the infirmary conversation(this part still gets me confused, but im going to assume he ran into the cafeteria after hearing arei coming) and that he saw Arturo leave, but guessed the part about "Arei promising to do anything." Then it makes a bit of sense for him to stalk eden that day, stalk arei the next day, then commit his murder in the morning after gathering all the information he needs. It also makes sense for him to be waiting for the right time to get the fish. He and Eden are also the only ones that could've grabbed the tape before the gym closed, because apparently it closed right after they left and I missed this detail. so Levi couldn't have investigated it immediately after.

As for Hu and Nico I do like the themes of infantilization and self-worth and helplessness. Levi is taking being judged with very neurotypical condemning language pretty well actually, but I assume he's probably heard worse in his life. And also knows there's more on the line now than his feelings, or Eden's. I never really assumed Hu was the killer because so much of her alibis would need to be waved off for this plan to work, and that feels kind of sloppy to me. I believe that any talented writer can make any twist work but it would be very hard to do I think, and perhaps more effort than it is worth.

I don't hang around here much(I say this too often but it is true. Social media does not make me feel particularly great.) so I don't know everyone's big theories and all but from what I do see the main rebuttals to Ace being the killer is that his intelligence is too low and that he doesn't fit the theme of the chapter. The first point is somewhat fair to make I think, but I do think that "someone is too dumb to commit murder" is a poor argument to make when it applies to people like the ultimates. All talents require a level of strategy, sports are no exception. And lets not forget he did have a model murder to use(Eden too).

As for the second point, after doing some thinking, I think he does actually fit the theme of this chapter very well, especially as a foil to the victim, Arei. Maybe at first glance it doesn't make sense for someone who hasn't tried very hard to be a good person at all to be the murderer, but he and Arei have both had someone they deemed to be a "good person" watching over them, always willing to extend a hand despite the poor treatment. These are of course Levi and Eden, in that order. It turned out that Levi isn't exactly Ace's perfect idea of a friend(I mean at this point who is, no one can replace Taylor that's not how people work...), but he still, like Eden, was willing to overlook Ace's faults time and time again. Ace has a right to be upset, but he is cruel without trying to perform kindness like Arei was. Arei died trying to change herself into a better person. Ace never tried. By killing someone willing to put themself at risk for others, who ironically enough is like Levi in that way, he affirms his own worldview. Eden is also implied to be not exactly perfect as well, but the theme of this whole chapter challenges the idea of inherent good and evil. But you can always try to better yourself.

Eden being the killer also fits the theme of the story well and I think that it's not really a bad writing decision for her to be the killer, even if the parallels tug at your heart(they don't really for me truthfully, but if I wasn't moved by Min's I guess I won't be moved now either). It would be hard but not impossible for Teruko to trust again even if Eden is the killer after that performance. But that still doesn't change the fact that imo, no one has a motive to be her accomplice. How could she have gotten the fish then?

There is one more thing I'm thinking about with regards to the "intelligence problem" in that I still believe this case feels a bit sloppy, not narratively, but for the killer. 7:30 is a really tight time to pick, especially when you know that everyone is meeting up 30 minutes later, whether they want to or not. If it were me, I'd at least pick 7:00, not an unreasonable hour, but more time for the water to dry. Also, what if it turns out Arei is chronically late for things lmao? There is also the note. There is no way the killer could have predicted David's um. Fun exercises of one's patience, so trying to make an alibi for yourself by banking on the "in the evening" time of death is so very risky. Not to mention what if someone had gone to the playground at night with a group of people? Then it has to be in the morning. This leads to the note. I've talked about this before, but I wonder why it was discarded that way at all. The obvious choice is that they didn't want to risk the note being found shoved down the killer's skirt or pants when they had to meet up in like five minutes, but you can eat the note. That is just something you can do. But that might not occur to someone with an eating disorder.

(Thoughts on the episode are done, next part is just me kind of promoting.)

For my friend who knows who you are: i cannot believe the day i have to draw horseace draws closer. I can't even draw normal horses, how am i supposed to do this. born to write forced to draw.

For everyone else: I am doing drabbletober this year, and am open to requests. My ao3 has the same name as my tumblr if you want examples. Feel free to shoot me an ask here if you want me to write something. I don't take nsfw requests from anyone who isn't 18+ tho. Also, I'll try to write it when I can, which may be before October, but I will place my trust in you- please do not claim my writing as your own before I post it to ao3. pretty please okay.

[modelbus]

Congrats on 1000!! I’m here for the event :)

Tommy, band and broken

I kinda did this with my last Tommy band AU, but yknow what I like Band!Tommy okay. And he’s a drummer this time because I said so :)

Pairing: Cc!Tommy x Gn!Reader

Band AU - Broken

“They’re all broken!” The shriek tears through the house, jolting you awake.

Living with your bandmates was constant hell, but you signed up for it. It seemed like someone was always practicing, but you learned to ignore that. The late-night karaoke sessions you didn’t actually hate: they could be fun. But the number of times you’ve walked in on someone live-streaming to fans? Too high for comfort.

But your bandmates were your best friends. You wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, or with anyone else. Even if you did sometimes question that choice.

“Who the fuck did it? Who broke my drumsticks?” Tommy screams. Resident ball of chaos and drummer, he’s the basis for 90% of the bad ideas in the house. Including the hole in the kitchen wall.

With a loud groan, you drag yourself out of bed. Tommy’s room is just down the hall from yours, but he’s already at your door when you open it. His hair is an absolute mess, and clutched in his hands are broken drumsticks.

“You.” He snarls, jabbing one at you.

“…what?” You yawn, blinking blearily in return. Did he break his drumsticks? Why is he so mad about that this early in the morning.

He gives you a suspicious squint, then nods. “I bet it was Tubbo then, if it’s not you.”

“What?” Is all you can repeat.

“My sticks, you idiot!” He exclaims, waving his fist in your face. “Someone broke them!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t you?”

He does have a habit of breaking them. Especially on stage. Granted, he tosses them into the crowd at the end of every show, but you’re pretty sure half of your expenses are just drumsticks.

“I’m going to get Tubbo to fucking admit it, and then you’ll regret ever doubting me.” Tommy informs you, turning away and storming off down the hall.

You’re easily entertained, so you follow along quietly behind him.

“This feels like a bad idea.”

“Shut up.”

“Why would he break your drumsticks?”

“Fuck off, I don’t know!”

“Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t—“

He spins around, throwing half a drumstick at you. “It wasn’t me!”

It flies past your head, hitting the wall. Thank fuck he never learned how to actually aim.

“Now are you on my side or not?” He asks.

On one hand, being on his side would be funny. On the other, if Tubbo actually did break them all as a prank, you want nothing to do with their prank war.

Funniness wins out.

“I’m on your side.” You reluctantly say.

“Then knock on his door.” Tommy points at Tubbo’s door. You send him a glare, but do as ordered and knock twice.

Nothing.

Tommy shoulders past you and bangs loudly on the wood. The entire door shakes in its frame, and you wince. If you have to buy a door next because of him, you’re killing him.

After a long moment, the door swings open to reveal a disgruntled Tubbo. There’s pen on his cheek, and his hair is sticking directly upward. Definitely someone who just woke up.

“You did it.” Tommy says, not allowing Tubbo to say a word. “Admit it. You did it.”

“Did what?” Tubbo yawns, looking past Tommy at you.

And then the fucker winks.

“You bastard! You fucking bastard!” Tommy screams, noting the movement. Before you can stop him, he lunges forward and tackles Tubbo.

They crash backwards, with Tubbo shouting in pure fear. You watch them tumble around, Tommy trying to shove his broken drumsticks down Tubbo’s throat. Or something like that, you couldn’t figure out what was going on between the shouting and fighting.

“Die! Die you bastard!”

“I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!”

Slowly, you step forward, and close the door. You can still hear their muffle cries from behind the door, but you can’t see them anymore.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

[ofmdee]

MAN i am so close to getting the next part of BU written, im like at the very end of the chapter but im having a hard time wrapping it up, i think because i Know that means then i have to do the pictures 😂

the chapter kinda started off as a freewriting thing, a pwp i wasn't planning on sharing, but then i realized it Could actually be a good filler chapter, and once that happened i was like oh i can't write anymore 😅

but i added a few plotty things, including a conversation i wanted ed and stede to have re: ed's transmogrification which i think is important, and ed giving stede a pearl he finds. he's bringing stede little trinkets like a kitty bringing gifts. mermaids are just big cats 2 me.

and then stede starts calling ed his pearl, etc etc

i WANT TO want to write, i want to keep creating this fic, i love it so much, it's my passion project etc, but i am just having such a hard time with it lately! i am rly trying to follow this advice and be gentle w myself and not push it, but it's hard! i worry that by the time i Really feel like doing it again, anyone who was interested will have moved on. i compare myself to other ppl too often, and i feel like holy shit ive been working on this for over 2 years, i should have SO MUCH more to show for the amount of time i put into it 💀

and then ofc i always doubt myself, like this isn't good, ppl are just reading it because they are my friends/feel sorry for me, the sims stuff is Cringe and im so amateur and embarrassing and everything i do sucks!!!

but also ive been rereading the fic during downtime at work, just to try and get a feel for it again, and im like oh, this is actually NOT awful? and it's making me like hmmmmm maybe i WILL get back into this....... i really do love it. i love reading it. and that's so important, i think. i like what i create, even tho i am also convinced no one else will. idk when my self confidence fuckin TANKED man but i think so little of myself and i hate that! i wanna think im the shit. or at least okay.

anyway idk what im even talking abt anymore, lmfao, just. fic stuff!!! being obsessive abt stuff. fandom stuff! i'm thinking abt taking an edible later and then trying to churn out the rest of the chapter so i at least have the framework to edit but idk, i rly AM also trying not to force it. i have ts4 open still from making my new icon/header and im like hmmm i could load my photoshoot save and start working on the pics.... but idk.

i HAVE gotten really into diamond painting over the past month or so, tho, and i think having another hobby, one that isn't tied to the internet in general, is rly helping me balance some things a bit more. here are a few pics of things ive made:

ive even ordered a custom ofmd kit, using one of ann's edits as the picture, im soooooo excited for it to arrive!!! ive been rly obsessive abt this since i started, but it's rly relaxing? it makes my mind go (white noise static sound) and rly helps me forget abt being anxious. but then i can also end up getting anxious about doing it Too Much, but that's a whole other can of worms re childhood trauma etc etc w/e

this turned into kinda a life update post lmfao, i just wanted to untangle some fic thoughts but it got away from me. oh well! idk thanks if u read this and thanks if u read my fic, i promise i haven't forgotten abt it 🧜‍♂️

[peachy-panic]

Family Line - Chapter 1

Remember a couple of days ago when I put out a poll asking if anyone would be interested in a whumpy wlw/sapphic story? Well, here is this thing.

Tagging a couple of people that expressed some interest - but let me know if you want to be on an actual tag list (assuming this story goes somewhere :)) @hold-him-down @thecyrulik

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, predatory men, death in the family, fucked up family dynamics, rich people shit

Against her better judgment, Dallas Radley stepped into the elevator. Watching the metal doors slide shut grated on every survival instinct in her body, but taking twenty-seven flights of stairs was out of the question—not that she hadn’t briefly considered it—and the longer she drew this out, the more time she put between herself and a flight home. So she took a breath and did her best to ignore the hair-raising prickle on the back of her neck.

She just wanted to get this over with. More than that, she wanted to have never been involved in the first place. But of course, even in death, her brother succeeded in dragging her down with him. 

“This place is a shit hole.” 

She didn’t need to turn around to sense the sneer in her stepfather’s expression. Dallas flicked her eyes to the side, though, just enough to catch the line of him in her periphery. She rolled her neck, hard enough that a ripple of cracks were audible in the small space, but she didn’t grace him with a response. 

One hell of a shit hole, she thought. The luxury apartment building was a glittering circle jerk of sterile-sleek decor, a doorman in a suit worth more than Dallas’s entire wardrobe, and amenities that no one ever used. And she had only just seen the lobby. But of course, in his eyes, it was beneath her brother’s name, and therefore a disparaging mark on the whole family. 

Dallas had no doubt her mother would have agreed. The two of them were probably duking it out in hell about it that very moment. Really, Jared, they’re going to mention that godforsaken embarrassment of a place in the obituary. What will people think?

Never one for reading the room—or for giving a fuck what the room had to say—Charlie continued. “He could have taken over any one of our properties. I told him a hundred times.”

The problem with the penthouse being on the twenty-eighth floor was that this elevator ride took for-fucking-ever, and she was increasingly doubtful they would both make it out alive. 

“Have you considered,” she said as flatly as she could manage, “that his distance was intentional?”

His answering silence was somehow worse than his speaking. It was the kind of quiet you felt like the tip of a blade at the back of your neck. Still, she resisted the urge to turn around. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

She was sure it was just in her head, the way his voice sounded closer. There had been no shuffle of dress shoes on the tiled floor, no warmth at her back, but she could feel it anyway. 

Don’t turn around. Don’t give him that. 

The elevator bell broke whatever seal that had vacuumed the air from her lungs. She pulled in a breath, forcing her legs into unrushed, even strides through the open door. The clinking of metal on her boots followed her down the short hallway, making it easier to ignore the soft pad of dress shoes trailing behind her. 

Jared’s apartment was hard to miss; it was the only entrance on the floor. Dallas reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, fingers closing around the key card the building manager had given her. Despite the rush to get this done, she couldn’t help but pause. She had never seen Jared’s home. She hadn’t spoken to her brother in years, and it was even longer since she’d seen him in person. She didn’t let thoughts of her family bother her anymore—at least that’s what she told herself—but there was a haunted feeling in seeing the place he lived for the first time once he was already dead. 

No point in stalling, though. Before Charlie could come to a stop behind her, Dallas swiped the key in front of the sensor and pushed inside. 

Jared’s apartment was, unsurprisingly, massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up three out of the four walls, with a spiral staircase near the center leading up to a lofted space. The only real blessing was the bare-bones approach to minimalist decor. The place looked barely lived in, like the museum of a home rather than someone’s actual apartment, but that would prove helpful in the unloading process. The less time she had to spend in the same room with Jared’s father, going through her dead brother’s shit, the better. 

Charlie wasn’t even supposed to be a part of this. The only reason Dallas bothered flying home in the first place was because she was almost certain that Charlie wouldn’t. He had been overseas on a business trip when the hospital called him, and had so graciously passed along Dallas’s contact information. (She still didn’t know how he got it in the first place, but she made a mental note to change her number the second she landed in Vancouver). Jared was dead before Dallas even got to the airport, and Charlie had surprised her by showing up at the funeral. 

Sure, in a perfect world, it wouldn’t be surprising for a father to show up to his only child’s funeral. But the world was a far stretch from perfect, and her family was even further. 

And now, despite not helping with any of the arrangements—the cremation, the ceremony cost or the planning—he insisted on helping manage Jared’s estate. Dallas shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It shouldn’t take long,” Charlie commented with the air of someone who knew what the fuck they were talking about. “I can have Miguel arrange the transport of the large furniture pieces tomorrow morning. We’ll take it to the upstate property. It can go in the guest house.”

“What about the furniture that’s already there?” she asked, running her fingertips over a cashmere throw blanket on the back of the couch. 

Charlie shrugged. “We’ll throw it out. It’s a few years old, anyway.”

It really should have been none of her business. She shouldn’t waste her time engaging in conversation that wasn’t entirely necessary, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“There’s a donation center twenty minutes away. They do their own pickup.”

He wrinkled his nose in a way she really should have seen coming. “So a twenty-five thousand dollar sectional can go to a secondhand store? Seems a bit of a waste.”

She didn’t bother pointing out the hypocrisy. Instead, she rolled her eyes and made her way toward the spiral staircase to check out the bedroom. As she stepped off the last stair, her feet skidded to a halt beneath her, nearly knocking her back down. She grabbed onto the railing to balance herself. 

“Holy shit,” she yelped. Because there was a person curled up in the center of Jared’s king size bed. The woman had her back to the doorway, long, red hair strewn behind her like a flood of fire. Her form was still and silent, the only indication of life in the steady rise and fall of her ribs. 

“What is it?” Charlie trailed up behind her a few seconds later, more curious than concerned. He came to a stop by her side, taking in the discovery for himself. “Oh.”

Dallas blinked, calling on a distant memory. A piece of mail. A wedding invitation. A flash of bright red hair in a photo with her brother, looking up at her from the trash can before the lid dropped shut.

“Jessica?” she said.

“No,” Charlie said. “Jessica died. Three years ago. I’m glad to see that the therapy I paid for went to good use. He clearly found some… uncreative coping mechanisms.” With more force than necessary, he tapped the leg of the bed with his shoe, jolting the girl. “Alright, sweetheart. Time to get up. Free stay is over.”

The girl startled awake, the line of tension in her back pulling taut like a puppet in strings. She scrambled up and onto her knees, and when she turned to face them, a stunned silence fell over the room. Dallas’s eyes narrowed in on the thin, metal band around her neck.

This girl in her dead brother’s bed was a Companion.

His Companion.

“Jesus, Jared.” The breathy sound Charlie made could only be described as bemused, and it set Dallas’s blood on fire. “That makes more sense, I suppose.”

The girl didn’t say a word, but the panic emanated from her like heat from a furnace. Her eyes—a preternatural green behind copper lashes—were wide and terrified, rimmed in red and puffy from crying. She was wearing one of Jared’s oversized Cornell tees, which draped to the tops of her thighs. 

“It’s okay,” Dallas said without really knowing why. She supposed she just wanted to say something—anything—that might take some of the fear out of her expression. “You’re okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke, but they retreated back to Charlie as she parted her lips, opening and closing them twice before pressing them tightly together.

“Hey,” Dallas said, pulling her focus back to her. It made her stomach turn to say the words, but this was far from the first time Dallas interacted with someone in the system. Unfortunately, she knew how this worked.  “It’s alright,” she said. “You can say whatever you want to say.”

She hesitated another couple of seconds before she softly cleared her throat. “You… Jared? You know Jared?” Her voice had a rough, raw edge to it, as if she hadn’t spoken in days. 

“He’s my brother.” Dallas caught herself, grinding her teeth. Was my brother, she corrected internally. 

“He…” The girl blinked, dazed. “He didn’t come home. He hasn’t… he didn’t…”

“You didn’t call the police?” Charlie snapped. “Or anyone?”

The girl shrank back from his tone. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He doesn’t allow—I… I don’t have a phone. I’m not allowed to leave without him.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dallas said quickly, stepping between her and Charlie. She shot him a glare he didn’t seem to notice. “But there is something I need to tell you. About Jared.”

****

Dallas sat on the couch across from the red-haired stranger, the quiet heavy between them. The only sound was the faint carry of Charlie’s voice from the loft as he spoke with whatever fucking WRU representative he had on speed dial. 

He hadn’t seemed surprised, exactly, to discover an enslaved woman in Jared’s apartment, but he didn’t clearly hadn’t known about it in advance. In all likelihood, he was probably a little bit proud.  And Dallas… Well, it was hard to be disappointed in someone for whom your expectations were already below ground level, but some part of her had wanted to hope for more from her brother. They had grown up around Companion workers—in their home, in their parents’ company—and they knew how fucked up the system was. Even if he never admitted as much out loud. 

Dallas had been involved in the anti-contract system as a teenager. Never as much as she wanted; a protest here or there, a few letters to congressmen and reposts on social media. She had tried to get a little more into it in college. But since graduating, work kept her busy. And, as ashamed as she was to admit it, moving to Canada had been something of a mute switch for her. The system had been outlawed there for more than a decade, and it was easy to become complacent in a place like that. To pretend it wasn’t happening at all just because it was no longer happening in your own backyard. 

This… made her reevaluate that inaction. 

The girl was curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her legs in the corner of the sofa. Dallas had found a pair of joggers in Jared’s closet and shed her own leather jacket for her to wear. That particular pairing looked a little strange, but it was better than having her sit half-naked in the living room. In front of Charlie. 

“Are you hungry?” Dallas asked, unsure of how to fill the silence. It had been years since she was in the same room as a contracted Companion, but it filled her bloodstream with the same uneasy buzz as she remembered. 

She looked up at her, blinking her red, puffy eyes. The answer was apparent in her silence. 

“Have you eaten?” Dallas tried carefully. “Since Jared’s been away?”

Her pale fingers tightened in the fabric around her knees. “No, Miss Radley.”

“Dallas, please,” she corrected gently. “Or Dal. Let’s find you something to eat, yeah?”

The girl unfolded herself and trailed softly behind her to the kitchen. She swayed on her feet, leaning one hip subtly against the counter as Dallas scoured the pantry for something more than olive oil and seasoning. She could see her brother never quite got over his tendency to order out for every meal, but at least she was able to scrounge up some bread and peanut butter for a sandwich.

“Am I going to be taken back to the facility?” The question from behind her was so meek, Dallas almost didn’t hear it. 

She set the butterknife she had found slowly down on the counter, turning to face her. “I…” She swallowed. “I’m not sure what the plan is right now.”

At that moment, Charlie’s footfalls descended on the stairs. The girl’s posture went rigid. 

“Well,” he said, walking over to join them in the open kitchen. “This certainly makes things more interesting.” He spared a glance to the girl, then turned his attention back to Dallas as if she wasn’t in the room at all. “Apparently he has been contracting this girl on a rolling basis for the past two-and-a-half years. They’re only three months into the current six month term.”

The girl’s eyes had found a spot on the countertop and hadn’t deviated since Charlie entered the kitchen. Dallas eyed her dubiously, the sense of dread crawling higher in her throat. 

“What is their policy for this kind of circumstance?” Dallas asked.

“They have a couple of options. The first is a mortality clause, where fifty percent of the remaining contract fee can be recouped to the Keeper’s family upon early termination. The second is a transfer of title on her contract for the remaining duration. It only applies to legal or blood relatives and spouses, unless someone else is named in the initial contract. In Jared’s case, there was not.”

And there was the peak of the dread. 

Their options were to return this girl to the nearest WRU facility to be abused and assaulted and repurposed for a new sick fuck to take her home, or for one of them to claim her for themselves like a piece of expensive art in someone’s will. 

Charlie leveled his charming grin in Dallas’s direction. “I don’t suppose there’s any purpose in asking if your views on the system have changed since last we spoke?”

“Fat fucking chance,” she said. He laughed like she’d said something funny, then trailed his gaze back to the girl, who curled even further into herself. 

“What’s your designation, sweetheart?” 

Dallas tensed at the prospect of him speaking to her directly, but the girl answered smoothly and immediately. 

“Domestic, sir.”

“And how old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

That may or may not have been bullshit. WRU was known for not being entirely truthful when it came to the matter of age—in either direction, depending on the type of Keeper they were trying to appeal to. 

“Have you been in the system a long time?”

There was the slightest pause before she answered this time. “Since I was nineteen,” she said quietly. Dallas’s fingers squeezed down around the handle of the butter knife.

“Hm.” Charlie pushed back from the counter, nodding decisively. “That could work out. Molly’s contract is up in a month, and I wasn’t planning to renew anyway.” He was no longer addressing her directly. “Some overlap could be good. She could show her the ropes. Okay. Yeah. I’ll have Miguel handle the paperwork.”

What happened next was never the plan. Was never even the realm of possibility until she suddenly felt her mouth moving without her permission and heard the words in her voice as if spoken by a stranger. 

“I’ll take over her contract.”

Both sets of eyes turned to her, one full of apprehension, the other full of delighted surprise. 

“Oh, will you, now?” Charlie lifted an eyebrow, and Dallas swallowed back the urge to fling the butter knife into his jugular.

Instead, she fixed her eyes on his, refusing to back down. “Are you going to fight me on it?”

He held her gaze for a few long seconds, and she was prepared for the likelihood that the answer was yes. It wouldn’t be a hard-won fight, and they both knew it. He was a wealthy, respected regular customer of WRU’s services, and she was an outspoken protestor who lived outside of the legal zone. 

But then he broke with a chuckle. “Of course not,” he said. “I’ll even help you with the logistics, if you want. It can be a bit of a headache the first time around.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“If you insist.” He raised his hands, backing off. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Let me know if you need any help jumping off a fucking cliff, asshole.

As Charlie walked toward the staircase again, Dallas turned to the woman who would soon become her legal—if temporary—property, desperate to explain herself. But before she could, Charlie called out to her from across the room. 

“Dal?” He smiled, his white teeth showing in a viscous smile. “Your mother would be proud.”

[yourcarnevoreuspal]

(A continuation of my monster farmer story, just didn't want to keep reblogging it)

I've been finding myself here, nearly every night since I followed him. Staring into the dark room, so close to the glass, I can feel it's chill. He's clueless, the drunk, sleeping away in his messy bed. I doubt he'd notice my shadow darkening the moonlight if I were to stand, and if I were to open his window, would he notice the wind flying into his room?

My cravings have only gotten worse, yet I've managed to keep myself contained thus far. I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Desperately, I've been trying to come up with an alternative- slime nor fish have helped, so I thought to try my hand at hunting a larger animal, but unfortunately my instincts are less interested in helping me catch such prey. No, they only hunger for that which lies sleeping inside the room, the creature I can't tear my eyes from: a human.

The only option I've turned up is to simply eat. But I dare not bring harm to anyone in my new home; not only would such a disappearance be devastatingly obvious, I care for my fellows who live here. I don't know if it's the hunger plaguing my mind, but the idea that I can 'just have a taste' and not actually hurt him seems to have wormed into my skull. Even if I eat him, then release him later, would that do anything to ease my cravings?

Unsure if I'm in control anymore, my claws reach towards the window...