#it is currently 9:30 pm and with how things are going at the moment i think 2024 is going to be shitty

[sk3l3t0n444]

2024 please have mercy on me, 2023 fucked me up BAD

[strawberrystepmom]

old flame, same glow

pairing: sex worker toji fushiguro x f!reader

word count: 6.1k

about: old feelings spur you on a wild journey of paying for sex with your high school crush but you find out in the process that maybe those feelings aren't as long forgotten as you thought.

contents: nsfw - mdni. no curses au, reader and toji are similar in age (i imagine reader to be late 20s/early 30s and toji to be early/mid 30s), oral sex (f receiving), lots and lots and lots of pining from reader, reader is very pathetic it's very sad but she's my most special meow meow.

notes: this is a repost of the sex worker toji au on my old blog - full and final, with pretty extensive edits to make it flow better. i was personally asked to repost and who am i to say no? be warned tho, for being a fic about sex work this is surprisingly sexless and for that i apologize but i wanted to focus more on the feelings rather than the smut.

thank you for your support and for reading and i hope you enjoy it!!!

dividers are thanks to @/saradika

“Is it because I’ll never be him?” 

The words your now ex-fiance spit at you during that fateful last fight echo in your mind as you splash cool water over your face, the strap of your purse sagging over your shoulder. A sigh escapes as the droplets run down your nose and lips. 

Him. Toji. The man became a constant issue in your relationship that never seemed to reach resolution the moment you admitted to a one-sided crush you had on him years and years ago, long before your fiance entered the picture. You hadn’t spoken to him since before his first marriage and only knew about his life through social media and occasionally running into each other at the grocery store but your ex took exception after a single cursory glance through Fushiguro’s photo sharing app feed, each picture one of him with his shirt either lifted at the bottom or so tight you can make out each and every divot of his defined core.

Exhaling out of your mouth, droplets go flying against the surface of the bathroom mirror and you fight the urge to scream or cry or maybe both looking at your soggy reflection. You’ve never felt more pathetic in your life and now the outside matches the inside.

The memory couldn’t have surfaced at a worse time and it forced you to excuse yourself from the polite man sitting across from you in a crowded restaurant, shifting through the too small gaps between tables and refusing to make eye contact with anyone else currently sitting in the restaurant as he watched you retreat. 

He was introduced to you by a coworker who spent most of the week wondering why you haven’t put yourself back out there after a year of single life, but you regret saying yes. Not because you don’t enjoy his company - he’s smart, quick witted, and handsome which are all things regularly you’d be enchanted by. 

Truthfully, you know it’s because he isn’t him either.

Digging your phone out of the pocket of your dress, you sigh and open your most recent conversation thread. The bold letters of his name stare back at you, an F in a circle above his last name. Fushiguro.

Free later?

Toji texted you earlier today, while you were still at work, and you opted to ignore him in preparation for tonight. The intention was to clear your mind of distractions or any entanglements you may have lingering, even those with almost unimaginably broad shoulders and green eyes that twinkle mischievously with every salacious wink and smirk he tosses your direction but you didn’t realize you’d fail your mission before 9 pm. 

The sun has only barely set and here you stand in the bathroom of one of the nicest restaurants on this side of the city planning to meet up with your high school crush to pay him for sex. 

Perhaps pathetic is too light of a word for how you feel but you don’t make eye contact with yourself in the mirror for long enough to think about it, gaze darting back down to the backlit screen in your palms.

Your thumbs begin to work before your mind can catch them and you stop yourself, brows furrowed as you press down to highlight the text and delete it altogether. Rubbing your free hand over your face, you sigh and glance down at the text bubble indicating he’s typing on the screen.

You know I can see you typing and deleting?

A knock on the bathroom door makes you yelp as you look over the message, dropping your phone in the still damp porcelain sink with a clatter while uttering low curses under your breath. You hear your name from the other side of the door and in your rush to grab and dry off your phone, you slip the droplet covered device back into your pocket and rush toward the door to see the waitress assigned to your table standing there.

“Uh, he asked me to come let you know that he paid the tab and you can go.”

Panic rises in your chest and your stomach turns as you gaze around her shoulder and look around the restaurant, spotting the table you were just sitting at with its unoccupied chairs.

“Fuck,” you spit before gnawing on your lower lip and the waitress watches you as one would witness a slow motion car crash - incredulously, as if this is something she has never seen before. Part of you wonders if she hasn’t ever seen a woman struggling this close to her, the youthful round of her cheeks convincing you she can’t be old enough to have a lot of life under her belt. 

You shoot her an apologetic glance and she nods curtly.

“I’m sorry you had to do this,” your voice is muffled by your own shoulder while you dig through the purse and pinch out a banknote with enough zeroes to make her happy. You think it’s a 10,000 yen note but you can’t be certain and the embarrassment of the evening is carrying your feet toward the door too quickly to verify.

The door spits you out into a balmy evening but you don’t notice, filling your lungs to the brim with fresh air that feels restorative despite the heat. Patting around your body, you ground yourself with the knowledge that your phone is in your pocket. Pulling it out, you click your tongue at the new notification alert on the left side of your screen and exit your conversation with Toji to look at it.

The number isn’t saved in your phone but the words make you hiss as you look over them, shame making your face heat in a way that a warm summer night cannot even begin to replicate.

Hope dating gets simpler for you. Have a good night.

Sighing, you dawdle for a moment wondering how to respond, shifting your weight from foot to foot. People pass you on the street and you worry they’re going to start to wonder why you’ve been standing in front of the restaurant door for so long, dejectedly staring at the glowing screen in your palms.

Taking a few steps, you begin to walk in the direction of the train station and exit out of the conversation with your date, opening Toji’s contact info and holding down on his number until you hear your phone dialing him.

“Was wondering when you’d get back to me,” he doesn’t hesitate to speak as soon as he picks up the phone and you feel a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut the moment you hear him. This is so bad, you contemplate with the click of each of your steps. So so bad. “Where you at?”

Humiliated, you dare to feel almost a little comforted by how happy he sounds to hear from you. You’re certain that this is how he sounds with all of his clients, everyone who hires him for a good time, but you want to believe so badly it’s just for you. The lilt at the end of his sentences that you know mean he’s smirking, one corner of his mouth turned up. 

“Do you want to hear the truth or to hear a carefully made up lie?”

He chuckles on the other end of the phone and you wish you could listen to no other sound for the rest of your life.

“Tell me the truth. You’ve never been a great liar.”

A deep exhale deflates your posture and your gaze snaps to your feet as you make your way off to the farthest part of the sidewalk, your voice lowering to keep some shred of your dignity intact. It’s bad enough you’re venting your frustration to the man you pay for sex, you don’t want to think about how mortifying it would be to have a stranger overhear your woes.

“Well, I was on a date and got walked out on so now I’m heading toward the train station.”

A sympathetic hum and shuffling come from the other end of the line, Toji absentmindedly flicking the lighter he keeps in his pocket while you speak. The silence, no matter how momentary, makes you feel awkward and your brain leaps to overcompensate.

“Did you still want to meet? I don’t have a ton of cash but I do have time.”

Another chuckle. You hate that you feel like it’s directed at you rather than to be shared with you and the hot flush of embarrassment makes you reach for your sleeve with your free hand uncomfortably. It was too hot to wear this dress. It was a stupid idea to even come out but his voice keeps your rapt attention, his next words making you genuinely smile for the first time in hours.

“I can’t make you pay full price after getting walked out on. Come over, we’ll work it out.”

Thanking your lucky stars, you shut your eyes tightly and use every ounce of willpower inside of you to keep yourself from crying. Moisture pools at your lashline and you choose to ignore it, relaxing your jaw as you respond.

“You mean it?”

He hums affirmatively and you feel the butterflies in your stomach travel further south at the sound.

“Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t. See you in thirty.”

The call drops from the other end, your phone beeping to signify the ending but you can’t keep a giddy smile from creeping across your face as you press your phone against your chest and open your eyes. Looking up at the twinkling stars above, embarrassment gives way to something you haven’t felt in so long outside of these meetings with Toji that you wonder if you’re about to have a heart attack or something equally disturbing - the familiar flush of affectionate love. 

The unimpressed gaze of your coworker follows you all the way to your desk as you make your way through the rows of desktops on Monday morning. You shrink beneath the weight of it, the wool of your pencil skirt suddenly itching more than it ever has while brushing against your legs with each step. 

She must have heard about how well your date went.

The text message sent from the man still sits, unanswered, in your phone. Shame sits like a brick in your stomach and you keep your head down, even as you sit and the hydraulics of your chair squish beneath you with a “whoosh”. Bouncing back up, you refuse to make eye contact as you get settled, logging in.

“I am never setting you up again,” she spits in a hushed whisper as soon as you sit down next to her, pulling her can of coffee away from you and setting it on the opposite side of her keyboard. 

“If you weren’t ready you should have just said so.”

It’s not like you can defend yourself. You weren’t and remain unready to see anyone else yet it didn’t stop you from immediately stuffing bills in Toji’s hand, legs still shaking while he helped you button your pants and sealed your goodbye with a wink and a kiss on the forehead.

This time, though, was the first time the two of you kissed outside of sex and you’re still reeling. Head fuzzy as you recall the way his scar felt brushing against you for more than immediate sexual gratification. Soft lips, firm flesh, warmth. You swear you feel a ghost of the kiss itself as you sit, surrounded by buzzing overhead fluorescent lights.

The two of you have had sex a dozen times now, once a month your usual schedule, but this time felt different. Maybe it’s the fact that you paid less than usual, maybe it’s the tender way he placed kisses from the underside of your breast clear down to your mound, watching your every move with those glimmering peridot eyes. 

“Are you going to say anything?”

The accusatory voice of your coworker interrupts your reverie and you blink before turning in your direction with your head bowed. Words stick in your throat and you aren’t able to swallow so you mumble a simple “sorry” with nothing further. She scoffs and turns back toward her computer, typing loudly to indicate her annoyance as you click around your desktop.

“He walked out on me, to be fair,” you finally come up with after falling short on a near infinite amount of apologies in your head and she turns once again to stare at you. Her gaze burns and you shift in your seat, the same shame you felt at the restaurant weighing your limbs and keeping you pinned in place.

“He left because you were in the bathroom for 15 minutes with no explanation.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, typing away for a moment before turning toward you again, still unfinished with her thorough lecture about the wrongs you’ve committed. Your body still feels heavy, frozen with embarrassment of your own making, but you manage to sigh and fold your arms over your chest unenthusiastically.

“I was hoping you’d at least tell me you had an accident or something.”

Without thinking, you laugh the hardest you have in awhile and several heads peek above their desktops to glance at your unusual display. They probably think you’re losing your mind and if you were to be frank with yourself, you aren’t convinced that isn’t exactly what’s happening.

You are fantasizing during work about a man you pay to have sex with, pretending you’re anything more than a client with a little cash to blow and he’s a man with a lot of free time and a natural gift for cunnilingus.

Hiccuping, your laughter subsides and your unimpressed coworkers return to their tasks, the one sitting next to you still eyeing in a way that is borderline venomous at this point. You don't blame her, though. You fucked up and can't bring yourself to own up to it when your head is too wrapped up in remembering every peak of Toji's arms wrapped around you.

How the fuck did this happen?

She says nothing further, instead turning to her computer and leaving you to sit staring at the blinking cursor on the screen in front of you. You can unpack every single choice you've made since 16 right now and it still wouldn't lend any clarity as to why you are willing to fuck up every relationship around you for the sake of sleeping with a man who you mean nothing to.

Of course, you don't know that, but it's a safe enough assumption given the dynamic itself.

You swallow thickly, pride sliding down your throat like something you may choke on, and turn your chair toward your coworker.

"I handled it poorly and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

She scoffs, dipping her head low.

"The only person who should be embarrassed here is you."

Accepting the criticism, the truth, you plaster a smile across your face and nod once. Any argument you may have tied together at another point in your life dies and you instead turn back to your work, looking at the little clock on the bottom corner of your screen.

9:15 am.

So many hours left for shame to simmer between your ribs, a molten pool of your own failure to swim around in until you drown.

The lewd pop of Toji releasing your clit from between his lips and your panting are the soundtrack playing through his otherwise quiet apartment. Darkness envelopes both of you, so insatiable by the time you made it back here there wasn’t time to turn on the overhead lights. 

I need to stop, you think in the afterglow of another orgasm delivered by the impressively skilled mouth of the man whose green eyes are fixed on your face. You take in the sight of him, chin and lips soaked from your last release that drenched him. 

“Never seen ya do that before,” Toji remarks from between your thighs. Your muscles twitch on either side of his face and you giggle weakly, tired from being thoroughly fucked and devoured. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he does so. 

You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, softening with every ounce of care he gives; the way his thumbs assuredly massage the outside of your thighs. It’s all so…tender. It feels like it's meant for a lover, someone you wanna fall asleep beside and rise with in the morning.

Something meant for you and someone else.

If you weren’t so tired you’d already be gone. Instead you groan softly as he rubs a final pair of circles on your skin and sits up, wiping his face across his bicep. He stands and he feels you looking at him, scoping out every nude sculpted inch of him. How is it fair that he not only fucks like a god but looks like one too?

Truly, some people get all the luck.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

Shrugging flippantly, you let yourself melt into the comfort of his bedding, getting too used to feeling it beneath you at this point. You've increased your visits from once a month to once a week, twice if you're particularly stressed, and he certainly will never turn down a chance to make some good money.

"How many clients do you have?"

The question leaves your lips before you can really think about the implication of what you're asking but he chuckles, pulling a pair of athletic shorts and nothing else over his softening cock. You can still make out the print of it clear as day and it makes your face heat, looking away and feigning interest in the peeling skin around your unkempt cuticles.

"I'm sorry, that was intrusive," you clarify, gaze flicking up from your nail beds to where he fills two glasses of water from a pitcher on the bedside table. You dare to indulge yourself by continuing to look at him rather than away, his hair falling in his face.

For the briefest moment, you think you'd like to be the person to brush it off his forehead forever but he turns to you with a smirk and holds out a glass of water before you can go any further into the delusional fantasies your mind keeps providing to you without asking.

"Why are you asking?" He drinks after asking, finishing his glass in one gulp and setting it back down next to the pitcher. You take the glass extended in your direction, sipping to try and wash down the lump in your throat before it can fully form. "You like me or something?"

Immediately you shoot up, hauling the blanket over your naked form ready to explain away your questioning and he sits down on the edge of the bed with a smile, reaching out and grabbing your covered thigh with one of his hands.

"I was just kidding, don't get jumpy."

Fighting the urge to fidget, you stay sitting up and sip from the water cautiously again, small mouthfuls at a time to keep from feeling overwhelmed. You're so anxious despite having cum so many times you truly lost track and Toji wishes he didn't find it so amusing that after all these years you still manage to be as neurotic as he remembers.

You were a good girl back then, scared of getting caught running around with the delinquent, but you still puffed each time he'd hold the cigarette to your lips. You still tagged along when he would skip class.

He wondered what happened to you when the two of you lost touch. Figured you'd ended up married with a kid or two like him, waiting for the next day and getting through it to the best of your ability.

He was shocked when you messaged him from your social media profile, the photos displayed on your page less than interesting. You standing in front of a shrine on vacation, you smiling next to your family on your grandma's birthday, you looking lonely with a smile that never reached your eyes in photo after photo.

The rest is history, as they say, and you rush to fill the silence.

"Curiosity got the best of me, that's all."

"Five."

You look up, reaching across the bed to slide the water onto the table beside it and he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

"Four occasionals, one regular."

Eyes widening at his words, you point to yourself.

"I'm your regular?"

He hums and nods and you take a moment to process the information for what it is. A surprise, certainly, and you can't quite figure out how you feel about knowing he sees four other women even if it is just occasionally. Logic smacks you in the face as you realize you hardly have the right to feel jealous over him doing his job but you let that feeling turn in your head for a moment, wondering what he'd do if you admitted how you felt to him.

Would he stop seeing his other clients? Would he let you take their occasional spots, making sure he's making the same amount of money regardless if it's all coming from you?

"My occasionals don't live in the city so we only meet up when they're in town."

Why he feels the need to explain himself is as lost on him as it is you, your head tilted to the side in confusion. Can he tell this is what you need to hear to quell your own wandering mind or is he simply indulging you to ensure that his regular stays a regular? You hate to think the worst of him, knowing he's a good man beneath the antics he has always managed to get wrapped up in, but the ever shifting boundaries between the two of you get less and less comfortable with every session.

"How about you?" He asks while you slide your knees up and tuck them into your chest, his hand falling to the side in the process. "You paying anyone else for sex?"

Giggling, you shake your head. It's embarrassing to even be asked, your desperation as apparent as your skin itself, but you feel like if there's anyone you can joke about it with it's the man whose face is still sticky with your release.

"Nope, one is plenty. I'm not rich, you know."

He quirks a brow and crawls onto the bed, making his way to hover above you with a smirk and that same hair hanging over his eyes the way you always seem to see it in your daydreams.

Without thinking, you reach up and brush it off of his forehead, your fingers gliding across the sweat slicked skin of his face. You look at him for a moment, the way he looms above you, and your stomach turns.

This is too much. Your fingers tremble gently as you trace them over the bridge of his nose while dragging them off of his face, hand flopping down at your side while you struggle to shift from beneath him to get out of the bed.

"You alright?"

You nod and he backs away, sitting across the bed rather than lingering over the top of you. Sliding your legs off of the bed, you stand and feel him looking at your back as you bend and scramble to grab your clothes.

"Yeah, just realized it's super late."

Hurriedly pulling your pants up over your legs, you stop when you realize he hasn’t stopped staring at you since the moment you left his bed. His gaze burns and you wither beneath it, burning out like a shooting star as you stand still as a statue.

“Just stay,” he offers as if it isn’t the most self destructive option you could possibly choose. Stay and what? Chew on your nails the entire night until the sun finally rises and you can blissfully leave? Watch morning cast a warm glow over his sleeping body while birds chirp outside?

A persistent echo of the word idiot dances through your head as you briefly consider his suggestion, wondering if it would truly be so terrible to bury your head against his side and sleep soundly for the first time in months.

You can’t do this. The night feels suffocating, like it’s smothering you rather than enveloping you gently, and you pull your pants all the way up and fasten them while throwing your shirt over your head and pulling it on in a surprisingly fluid motion.

“I gotta go. Thank you for everything.”

Bustling out of his apartment, Toji watches your back head toward the door and can’t help but feel as if that was your final goodbye, gone in a flash the same way you returned to him.

Hey stranger, what's up?

The latest in a series of ignored messages pops onto your screen before you can close out the notification, today marking 21 days since the fateful night you cried in the back of an overpriced car the entire way back to your apartment leaving Toji’s behind you.

The messages are all the same - nonchalant and non committal, unspoken business proposals - but you scroll up through them anyway with a broken sniffle. How you’re still managing to cry over this three weeks later is beyond your own understanding but your fingers reach out to brush the screen of your phone regardless, just as they did the smooth skin of his forehead that fateful night.

Life has been normal without him, you reason. You go to work, keep your head down, come home and fall asleep in front of the TV. You’ve been too depressed to even masturbate but you’ve tried, crying through the measly two orgasms you’ve managed to pull out of yourself halfheartedly.

Part of you wishes you’d just die and end this misery once and for all, the other wants to die thinking of how someone would feel looking at your browser history. “Green eyed guy big dick”, “big dick DILF” , “toji big dick”, the terms thay would haunt you enough you worry they’d emblazon them on your headstone if you were to perish.

It’s dramatic, sure, your world has imploded in on itself more than once already but this hurts with the intensity of three broken engagements. Your heart feels like it could give out at any moment and it nearly does when your phone begins to vibrate and ring. Dropping it to the floor below, you sniffle again and feel another round of sobs bubble up in your throat at the name on the screen.

Toji Fushiguro. Clear as day.

You let it ring and ring until you know your voicemail will pick up and you’ll delete it. Fuck, you should really delete his number as a whole but even that feels too permanent.

How did it hurt less when you left your old apartment with an empty ring finger and a few boxes full of your meager belongings than it does to ignore a man you paid for sex?

Truthfully, you know it was never about the sex and you were treading in deep dangerous waters from the start.

You love him.

You loved him back in high school when he was a bad influence, you loved him when you’d open your hidden photos folder to stare at pictures you screen captured from his social media as soon as your fiancé rolled over to fall asleep, you loved him hovering above you with moonlight illuminating every shadow of his face.

This is the worst thing that has ever happened to you and through a flood of hot tears, you close out the open adult website on your phone and pull up a search tab, typing the words that will lead you to listings for apartments for rent as far away from here as you can possibly get.

Your time here is done and you know it, the ding echoing from your phone letting you know you have a voicemail almost sounding exactly like a timer would but you look at the notification anyway.

It's curious he left you a voicemail but you watch as your screen loads from the browser to the one unopened message in your mailbox. Taking a deep breath, you press play and hear his voice drifting through the speakers.

"Hey, uhh...I dunno what I did to piss you off but maybe we should talk about it. I'll be at the usual spot tonight if you wanna meet. Hope to see ya."

It ends as unceremoniously as it started and you cry harder, rewinding to start it over again. Listening to his voice, you trace your fingers along the screen of your phone a final time before deciding to take him up on his offer.

Closure will only help this process, you think, ending it all and closing this chapter for good.

“Look who it is.”

You recognize the voice coming from behind you but refuse to turn in your chair to greet its owner, instead sipping from your cocktail before tossing your napkin down unceremoniously. 

This isn’t your first time at this less than reputable establishment but you hope it will be your last, ready to get away from the shit in this city you wished you would’ve left behind a long time ago. Him included.

“Toji,” you toss from over your shoulder and the man himself enters your peripheral vision. Refusing to give him the smug satisfaction of turning to look at him, you simply nod and begin to tear the napkin you tossed down into little pieces. You’ve always loved how easy it is to transform things with your hands, from whole to broken and back again. It reminds you of yourself in a strange way.

“I could make some time for you,” Toji sucks his teeth and you roll your eyes at the sound. “If you want.”

A shake of your head is all you offer as you continue to throw bits of paper in front of you, a small pile of bits, all that remains of what once was whole. The metaphor dies as you think about it and you sit quietly as he settles in beside you.

“What would it cost me this time?”

Toji shrugs, the already clinging fabric of his short sleeved shirt gripping him tighter with the motion. You swallow thickly seeing the muscles move from the corner of your eye. He’s gorgeous and you hate it, reminding yourself that loneliness is what led you in his direction in the first place. Or at least you’re still trying to convince yourself of that.

You wish you could have stuck to your guns when you promised yourself you’d stop seeing him.

“I can make a deal for my favorite even if she has been avoiding me lately.”

A laugh escapes before you can stop it and you turn to look at him, taking in the deep jade color of his eyes and the dark lashes that frame them.

What point did you start looking for the mischievous little sparkle that lives inside of those irises? What point did this become more than transactional?

You always have and it never was.

You sigh, tipping your head back to look at the dim modern-attempt-at-vintage overhead lighting and he sweeps his large hand across the bartop to sweep your bits of napkin into his palm. 

“No charge, actually.” 

Making a show of considering his offer, you squirm uncomfortably at the boundary that has been firmly broken by it. He has given you discounts, sure, but to offer a completely free no strings attached session is almost more than you can reasonably deny. You have been suffering in his absence, self imposed exile keeping you locked inside of your apartment when you aren’t at work. You aren’t dating, you aren’t fucking, you’re just trying to exist as simply as possible.

Even the most upright girl needs to have a little fun sometimes, though, you think. Especially since this will be the last time before you go and leave him to his life. You have no place in his world and he no place in yours, two paths that intersected briefly but have to diverge eventually the most the two of you will ever be.

Despite your better judgment, you look at him with a bittersweet smile and he finds the look puzzling. There’s still the ever present softness you hold for him deep in that gaze but there’s something else he hasn’t seen before. 

His heavy stare makes you interrupt with a question. 

“What did I do to deserve a free one?” 

He shrugs, dropping your bits of napkin into your drained lowball glass where they soak up what’s left of the water. The cycle into something new begins again. 

“Feelin’ generous. You in or not?”

Dragging it out for a moment longer, you wonder if you should tell him this will be the last time. You’ve known him for such a long time there’s an element of obligation but you shrug it off and rise from the barstool, smoothing down the fabric of your pants.

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Toji doesn’t bother to hide his smug half smile, tossing down a few bills to cover your drink. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you start and he cuts you off as the two of you walk so close your shoulders brush. “Told you I’m feelin’ generous, quit making me regret it.”

He’s teasing but you flinch a bit at his words despite yourself. 

What if he regrets this? What if it hasn’t been as mutually beneficial as you originally thought, you’re just another face with disposable income that wants to see what it feels like to fuck a man with reckless abandon? Isn’t this why you walked away in the first place?

The what ifs will drive you crazy if you keep it up so you let the cool night air clear your mind, gasping as he pushes you against the driver side door of your car.

“Toji,” you warn but his hands glide up your sides and you lift your chin to expose your neck, his lips and teeth easily finding the column of your throat. The vibrations of your voice feel good against his mouth and you yelp as he scrapes at your skin using his front teeth. “Someone could see us.”

He scoffs and lifts his face away from your neck, lips mere inches away from yours. 

“Would that be so bad?” You nod emphatically and he rolls his eyes, dark brows knit together as he considers what you’re saying. “Ashamed to be seen with me?” Your shoulders slump and he presses his lips against yours so quickly you wonder if you imagined it and you sigh.  “No, I’m not. Just would rather people not know I’m paying some dude I used to go to high school with to fuck me.” 

There’s too much truth to your words for him to argue so he simply leans in against, pressing his lips against yours for a moment longer than he previously did. You feel the corner of his lip rise, a little smirk, and you wonder what’s on his mind.

“Don’t seem so ashamed when you’re screamin’ about how you can feel me in your….” he feigns thought for a moment and you feel your face heat, knowing what he’s about to say next. “What is it you always say? Ah, yeah…tummy.” His lips press against yours again and you kiss him back this time, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and wrapping his dark hair around your fingers. The two of you separate before the dry humping starts, catching your breath as you wipe remnants of chapstick and saliva from your lips.

“Get your ass in the car before I change my mind, Fushiguro.” 

He smiles at the sound of his name on your pretty lips. There’s no going back now and he knows it as he squeezes your ass once before rounding your car to enter the passenger side. A glance up at the night sky allows you a moment to clear your mind before you enter the vehicle yourself, shutting the door behind you as you fire up the engine. 

Something new begins again, the night revealing thing you know to be true.

You love him too much for this to be the last time.

[lolasimms]

a lots gonna change pt.15

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues, and things change.

next chapter

“It’s currently 9:45 pm, we have a code 245, there’s been a stabbing. Female, age 24, Name; Ellie Williams”

8:00 AM

Ellie had been having a shitty past two weeks, ever since the fight at Joel’s. Part of her longed for your forgiveness, she’d worn her heart on her sleeve, tried to reconcile with you and it all went down the drain because she couldn’t control her anger. She knew a sincere apology would earn her your forgiveness, but she couldn’t bare facing you at the moment.

Sat on the alfresco, basking in the fresh spring air, Ellie sat nursing a warm latte. The backyard that once housed Lila’s playhouse and the swing-set that she and JJ had played tirelessly on, were now gone. The vast lawn only being home to a few stray lawn chairs and the unused barbecue. It was only recently that Ellie had realised how lonely she was. Without Lila here for most of the week, the only company she had was her own, and that was her biggest fear, being alone.

Immediately thoughts of nostalgia flooded her brain, the first time you and her had set up a slip and slide during a hot summer day for Lila to cool off on. The vigorous get togethers you and Dina would put together during the holidays, The time she’d built Lila’s crib in this very backyard with Joel’s help. It was all too much and yet not enough. She yearned for that back, it was all she wanted, no matter how long it would take. Her brain kept repeating the words “Atone, Atone, Atone.”

11:45 AM

“Ellie, look at this shit.” Vic hands her his phone, showing her some meme that usually she’d crack up at. Instead she just glanced at it, let out a fake chuckle and shifted her focus back to the movie that was playing on Vic’s television. Having known her since college, Vic knew her reaction was fake. From the corner of her eye she could spy him placing his phone down and turning to her with a questioning face.

“Alright, what’s with you, you’ve been sulking ever since you got here?” She looks at him in annoyance, who was he to be pestering her?

“I’m fine man, just tired.” She wastes no time turning her attention back to the television, having had enough of the short conversation.

“Els, as much as I’d like to believe that, I don’t. Just telling me what’s wrong?” Vic and Ellie’s friendship had always been the same since freshman year of college. They never got emotional or sappy with each other, they were just those kinds of friends who enjoyed hanging together and most times it was in comfortable silence. So to see Vic so concerned for her made Ellie feel weird. Maybe she did have people on her side, maybe she wasn’t all alone.

“I’ve just been thinking man. I’ve been feeling really alone lately and I” she pauses, taking a breath as a lump forms in her throat. “I just miss my family, I want them back so bad Vic” She didn’t know why she felt so emotional all of a sudden, but she broke down into tears, something unusual for her. Vic didn’t know what to do, so instead he enveloped her in an awkward but warm embrace.

“You’re not alone Ellie, you’ve still got them. No matter what happens you’ll always have them”

2:30 PM

After her heart to heart with Vic, Ellie decided she couldn’t let herself loose the only people she loved. She knew the only way to end these feelings of isolation was to make an effort to spend more time with her loved ones. So the first thing she did was call Joel, asking if he was free. He was taken by surprise, as the two of them didn’t spend as much one on one time together as they used to. So when she suggested they go fishing, he was on his feet getting the gear together in no time.

“How you been, ain’t heard from you since that fiasco at my party?” Joel says, as he prepares his rod and bait. Ellie doing the same with her’s, letting out a subtle sigh and turning to him. The two of them were sat on quite uncomfortable camping chairs.

“I’ve been feeling pretty shitty, Y/n won’t talk to me, she’s still mad.”

“She got a right to be, your lil show was stupid and immature, you’re real lucky Lila was asleep”

“I know, and I feel bad about it.”

“So toughen up, apologise.” He stands up, casting his rod and then looks back at her expectantly, she doesn’t know what to say but just nods. She lifts from her chair and walks over to where he’s standing, casting her rod as well.

“I’m sorry Joel, I know I fucked up your party, I shouldn’t have acted that way” He turns to look at her and shakes his head with a smile.

“Honestly if you’d been fighting anybody else I would’ve been happy, just not under the circumstances that you did. It was sorta entertaining” He lets out a deep chuckle and Ellie laughs, shaking her head.

“I’m so telling Y/n” Ellie smirks as she nudges Joel with her shoulder, causing him to groan and do the same to her.

“Don’t you fucking dare”

5:30 PM

Joels living room looked the same as it always did, dvd’s from years ago lined up on the bottom shelf of the tv stand, brown sofa’s with plaid cushions and a few candles that were surely gifts from you and Lila. A game of basketball played as he and Ellie sat nursing beers and reminiscing.

“You remember your first drink, you spit out my most expensive whiskey?” Joel places his glass on the side table and laughs.

“I hate to break it to you man, but that wasn’t my first drink.” Ellie lifts up the glass of beer, waiting for his reaction to the news.

“What’dya mean that wasn’t your first drink? It was your 21st birthday.” He turns to her, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

“Joel do you really think when I was going to my friends birthday’s in high school I was just drinking pop and juice? You do realise I had my first proper drink in like 10th grade” Ellie can’t help but laugh at his shocked reaction, he truly couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I can’t believe you”

“Get over it dude, it was like 8 years ago,. Plus I turned out pretty okay don’t you think?”

“You wait till its Lila, you little dipshit, then you’ll know how it feels” Ellies face sinks at the thought of her precious girl going anywhere near alcohol, parties, men or women. Joel takes in the angered look on her face and smirks, taking her reaction as his revenge.

7:45 PM

Ellie was currently pushing her trolley around the store, in search for things she wanted to get Lila for her easter basket. The two of you weren’t raising her to be religious, but you weren’t opposed to letting her enjoy the fun aspects of holidays like easter, Christmas, etc. Seeing as easter was approaching, Ellie wanted to go all out for her little girl. Anything purple that had to do with easter she’d throw into the cart, knowing that was Lila’s favourite colour. She couldn’t wait to see the smile on her baby’s face when she saw the basket full of goodies.

Another part of her was excited that you’d be spending easer together as a family, along with Dina, Jesse and JJ. She’d take that as her chance to apologise for what she’d done at Joel’s party. Atone for her mistakes and assure you that she would be willing to respect your relationship with Abby if it meant she’d have a shot at getting you back.

“Hey, Jesse” She had one arm pushing the shopping cart and the other holding her phone to her ear as she waited for his response, glancing around the isles filled with Easter themed decor.

“Hey Els, you at the store right now?” Though she and Dina’s relationship never recovered after the separation, she was still quite close with Jesse. Seeing as he was the only one who was civil towards her despite her mistakes.

“Yeah, picking the shit for the hunt up right now?”

“Sounds good, I know you have Lila tomorrow, would you mind have JJ over, he’s been pestering me about it all day long.”

“Yeah man, sure”

8:20 PM

After leaving the store with a trolley filled to the brim, Ellie was ready to get home and pass out. She’d had a long day and Lila would be coming round early morning, not to mention she’d be looking after two noisy and energetic kids instead of one. As she made her way down her street she was intrigued to see two random cars she hadn’t ever seen before, parked by the curb. Ignoring them, she got the three large shopping bags, from the trunk and made her way into the house.

“Hey Ellie” She’s startled by the voice and immediately recognises it, she reaches to find the light switch. Once the hallway is lit by the bright yellow light she’s met with the familiar blonde from her past, stood in her hallway with a knife clutched tightly to her side . Immediately she drops the bags onto the floor and steps forward. She thanked the God’s that Lila was with you tonight, or else she would’ve died right here.

“Amelia, what the fuck are you doing here? You know I could call the police, right?” Ellie stands with her arms by her sides, fists clenched in anger. If she hadn’t been such an idiot this woman would’ve never ruined her and your lives. She wished that in some way she could go back in time and change all of this, relive the day she got tangled up with this psychopath and steer clear of her at all costs.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it, have you missed me?” Amelia comes closer to Ellie, by this point they’re no more than a few inches away from each other. The only thing Ellie can focus on is the large knife she was holding. Dressed in head to toe black, with a pair of black gloves. Ellie prayed to god that if she was going to die tonight it wouldn’t be you and Lila who came in and found her body.

“It’s been two fucking years Amelia, why do you still care about this, how the fuck did you even get in here?” Ellie is now yelling, looking down at the blonde with fury tainted in her eyes.

“I don’t care Ellie, I told you you’d regret the day you rejected me and I wasn’t lying. Anyways, I have people who will do anything for me, getting a key to your weak door was easy.”

“What the fuck do you want, you have 2 minutes or I’m calling the police, this is breaking and entering as well as trespassing” Amelia is now face to face with Ellie causing the auburn haired girl to recline back in disgust.

“I want you Els, that’s all I’ve ever wanted” The look of raging delirium in her eyes sends shivers down Ellies spine. Amelia reaches forwards enveloping her in a wanting kissing her. Ellie thinks this may be a chance for her to restrain the crazy bitch and then call the police while she’s distracted. She’s however taken aback when she hears a groan and then sees blood pooling on her shirt. Her whole body runs cold, Amelia talking a step back and smirking at the knife that was currently plunged into Ellie’s stomach.

“But I want revenge more”

Ellie hadn’t realised that she’d been stabbed until Amelia had retracted and said those words. She fell to the ground her head crashing against the hard wood floors with a loud ‘thump’. Meanwhile Amelia was laughing maniacally as Ellie slowly became taken by dizziness, her eyes blurring and her ears beginning to ring. She wasn’t afraid of death necessarily, she was just afraid of what the outcomes entailed. She was afraid you’d come here tomorrow morning, to drop off Lila and the two of you would find her dead body laying in the doorway, lifeless. She was afraid Joel would have to live with the knowledge he’d lost the only two daughters he’d ever had. Most importantly she was afraid she’d go out without having earned atonement for all the hurt she had caused. So as she slowly drifted out of consciousness the only thing in her mind were the words “Atone, Atone, Atone, Atone” repeating themselves like a mantra.

taglist;

@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup @bratydoll @wakasaaa @catostrophiclesbian @dinas-a-bird @lazyunknownwerewolf @h3sitant-alien @ceo-of-ellie-simps @mechetegirl109 @kashoot-me269 @lonelyfooryouonly @ellieswifee @doodlebob-mp3 @ellieismami

[otaku553]

How goes the fma x albedo fic? I hope that doesn't sound pushy, I'm genuinely curious. And in that vein, do you have any little drabbles you may have written or want to write? Especially with your recent kny ocs/yourself and your siblings. That'd be super fun to read about! Your art AND your writing is so freaking good, the moment I see you've posted something new on your blog I'm clicking it so fast. Same with your ao3 account ❤️

Thank you for the kind words!!! Currently not working on any fics, since I just came out of 10 weeks of summer research where my days began at 8 am and ended at 9 pm for probably less than minimum wage hahaha (doing research is a Bit Sad but I get a whole month to relax before classes start again so thank goodness for that)

I do however!!! Have a lot of plans!!! If you’re interested you can read more below!

Plans include but are not limited to:

Finally working on Homuncular Nature again!! I definitely do have a lot of plans and cool scenes playing out in my head for the next chapter, it’ll just come down to when I actually put pen to paper (or stylus to iPad) to actually organize and write them all. The road block I think is that I have seen neither Albedo nor fmab very recently and all my concrete ideas are for around the 30 episode mark for fmab, the turning point with the first actual confrontation against father and the subsequent Briggs arc.

Rewriting Ten Thousand Maple Leaves! A lot of people have been very kind but I think I missed the mark with my first chapter to be honest. My writing has gotten a lot wordier and less succinct, which feels like I’m filling a chapter more with fluff and unnecessary description than actual content. I think I also dislike how I characterized Sanemi and how quickly Kazuha was willing to agree with things. Writing both of them is kind of a difficult challenge tbh! I think in rewriting it I want to give back to Kazuha more of his vagrant role in the games, where he is avoiding the law for reasons somewhat out of his control.

Ebisu siblings content! I think it might be fun to try having them interact with more of the canon characters in kny but I also think there’s some value in a complete sort of outsider point of view when inserting characters into a piece of media. I feel like whenever I see self inserts I see a lot of ocs making themselves indispensable and making meaningful relationships with existing characters that way and that’s totally valid! That’s a lot of what I do for crossovers as well. I think when it comes to my own ocs though, I want them to feel grounded in some form and the reality of it is that none of the characters I make based on myself or real people are that impressive or remarkable. But I also think there’s a lot of value in showing smaller scale things outside of the main interactions and plot to show that even though we aren’t remarkable, we still have our own meaningful connections and ideologies and stories :) in the end the Ebisu siblings are a lot more visual though so I may just continue making doodles and art without writing anything haha

Kirby & Meta Knight ageswap AU: I was mostly doing this on my ask-gikabi sideblog in short form comics, but I lost sight of what I wanted to do after making the discord and starting to interact with some of the people who followed it. I think a lot of people are inspired and have their own very cool ideas that I wanted to take into account but then eventually it was no longer my story or the story I wanted to tell, which is why I’m thinking of restarting it as a fic. This one is still in very rough idea stage though, I have honestly no clue how I’m even going to begin organizing it

Yanfei ace attorney crossover: this one’s just pure crack lmao I would definitely write it as crack taken seriously but I think this is fun to explore just for small ideas that pop up every now and then, i.e. yanfei is semi-immortal because she’s half adeptus so it would be Really Funny to me if she showed up in dgs era, got her attorney’s license, went into hiding after it became obvious that she wasn’t aging, and then re-emerged after rebranding herself as her own daughter or granddaughter. That, and I have a lot of fun imagining someone as pragmatic as yanfei trying to get through the sheer chaos of aa despite being otherworldly

Continuing winter weather advisory: I got to a really good point in that fic and was rereading it today like,,, damn I wrote that? And it would be fun to see where I planned on going with it so I do want to also try working on that a bit if I can

Kazuha & Kunikuzushi role swap au: this is something I posted about a Long While ago but it’s an idea I continue to be fascinated with :) I especially enjoy how these two characters could have had completely different roles and personalities depending on how their pasts happened (with wanderer being so nice and turning so bitter and kazuha growing up so spoiled (for lack of a better word) and turning out so weary and yet kind

Link click and mha crossover: this one is honestly just a very recent idea but I think it would be fun to make a drabble on how lightime photo studio would be able to continue operating even in another world and the trouble they might get into for illegal quirk usage and what using cheng xiaoshi’s powers in a world where being able to tell the future is canonically possible would entail

I have!! So many ideas!! And not enough time or motivation to actually write any of them most of the time :’)

But I’m very glad to hear that you enjoy them and look forward to my posts!! :D I really hope I can work on some of these over the last month of summer vacation that I have :)

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 9

ANGEL

Tara is done with studying for the night and requires Chad's undivided attention.

“It’s maybe embarrassing how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Yeah, you should’ve done that a lot sooner.”

“I know.”

“But you could also do it a lot more times.”

It was the subtle gestures that led up to that moment. Neither of them realized it, until they both lost the ones that kept them from each other. Liv and Amber had them leashed and microchipped, grooming them to be their one and only. But a lot had happened since that night. September 23, 2022: the night that everything started to fall apart. However, once everything was said and done, things started to change. The grieving process came and went, and eventually, Tara and Chad had to move on. Sometimes, the memories hung around, but most of the time, their focus was moving forward and not looking back.

Many people would sit back and say that Chad saw Tara as ‘second-rate’ or that she was ‘the only option because survivors had to stick together’. But that wasn’t true. He had always been fond of her, he just never had the chance to act on it among Wes’s and Amber’s quarrel for her heart. It had pushed him out of sight, and therefore, he accepted it and searched for someone else. But he never fully lost his feelings for her, even if they had become small. 

In fact, it wasn’t just him that knew it. His mother knew it too, and she told him so. He had liked Tara from the start. She had been the one to go get help when he got hurt during recess in 1st grade and stopped by the nurse’s office to check on him before she went home. Martha said he had come home from school that day and told her: 

“I’ve met my angel, Mom.”

She never forgot that. And now, whenever she’d remind him, he knew that it was true. Tara was nothing he had ever known, and as much as they bickered with and teased each other, he didn’t know what he would do without her. Since the Ghostface murders of 2022, they had become close, and after the ones in 2023, they were officially an item.

She looked so much like a lady, but she was so much like a child. A devil when she held him close, an angel when she smiled. Tara was Chad’s angel. Even on her worst days, she healed him. Even on her worst nights, she was beautiful. It just took him a while to find her… to truly find her.

Now, it was October of 2024, almost marking a year after their 2nd death-cheat. However, it had been 2 years since they reserved their feelings for each other. 

They fell in love in October. 

October of 2023. Except, now in 2024, this 3rd time proved to be the charm, for there had been no return of Ghostface. Finally, there was rest for the reckless who’d run into love…

It was raining, the visual outside the drenched windows holding a silver film from the current downpour. Apartment 315 of Hortense Tower was quiet, much more quiet than usual, the only noise coming from the rain and soft volume of the television, where Chad was glued to some sort of endless duel on the Xbox. Every now and then, he’d make a hushed comment that was most commonly a curse word or two from not moving quick enough or taking a serious blow. Behind him, Tara sat at the table, leaning her head against her hand as she stared at the same law textbook she’d been studying for 3 hours.

Her head hurt, she was exhausted, and she was finally on her last page of the reading she was assigned, which made the pounding and weariness come off a little less strong.

And within the next couple of minutes, she was done. Sure, she may have simply read the last few paragraphs, instead of understanding them, but at least she could say she got through every page. She picked up her phone that was placed face-down beside her to check the time.

9:39 PM.

Yeah, she should’ve quit homework for the night a long time ago. Night time was Tara Time, according to herself. It was the only time where she couldn’t be bothered by anything or anyone, because well… duh, it was night time. And tonight, she wanted to spend it in the company of someone else—the only other person in the apartment right now.

Tara shut her text book and left the table, making her way to the couch to sit down next to Chad, who didn’t notice her until she did so.

He barely glanced over, before he paused his game and made an effort to look at her. “You done?” 

She nodded, “Yep.” Before he could say anything else, she invited herself into his lap, facing him while her knees straddled him in place. “Now, give me attention,” she demanded as she draped her arms over his shoulders.

He chuckled, “Uh, how about a ‘please’?” He moved his arms around her small waist, crossing his wrists to keep hold on his controller. Her eyes, though tired, held the same warm glow that made them unique. One of the many things he loved about her.

“Oh, come on, are you really gonna make me beg?” she replied, tilting her head in that infamous way.

“Mm-hmm.”

Tara huffed. “Turn off the Xbox first,” she nodded backwards to the television, “‘cause I’m only gonna say it once.” He obliged and tossed the controller on the seat cushion next to him, before meeting her gaze. And she gave what he wanted, “Please. I require attention,” with her own twist, of course. “Preferably yours. Preferably undivided. Preferably now.” 

The smirk that she was pulling never failed to get to Chad. There was something about its mischievous hint and attractive aura that complimented her big, brown eyes so well, it made her a work of art. Not to mention the dimple he always caught on her right cheek made her shine even brighter. “My undivided attention…” He played like he had to give the idea some thought, glancing around with a musing brow, “Hmm…” Then, he nodded. “I think I can manage that.”

She giggled and pulled him into a well-needed kiss. She had him so close that her chest met his, when he leaned into her lead. Her elbows bent to hold him in place, while his hands slid up her back to keep her as well.

When they parted, they stayed close, their foreheads touching as their eyes met.

“Is this the kind of attention you’re looking for?” Chad whispered. Tara blinked at him as he retreated his hands to hold her sides.

“I just want you,” she answered in the same tone.

He hummed in response and gave her lips a quick peck. “Like that?”

Her face flushed pink. “More.”

He kissed her left cheek. “How about now?”

She shook her head, “More than that.” Her smirk grew into a beautiful smile.

This led him to give her another peck on the lips, then stick an exceptionally admirable one on her dimple, which didn’t go away after they locked eyes again. If anything, it deepened as her pearlized teeth began to show through her grin. “Still not enough for you?” he quizzed with a light chuckle

She shook her head again, her playing-hard-to-get nature making her chuckle as well, “No.”

“Are you saying you’re needy?” Chad then teased, wrapping his arms around her back to pull her in a little closer. “Hmm?”

Tara didn’t falter, just raised her chin to challenge him. “Am I?” She raised an eyebrow in temptation, but was taken off-guard when he held her close to sprinkle quick, delicate kisses over her face, before trailing down her neck and even reaching her collar bone. She didn’t mind it at first, taking them as the attention she craved, but when his lips nipped at the soft skin shielding her left carotid artery, she started to cringe with a pitched noise. “Oka-hay, that tickles!” she openly shared, mindless to what other antics he may pull from his sleeve.

And of course, he had an overrun of what she bargained for. If she wanted to be such a dictator, she should be open to any and all kinds of attention. Her boyfriend halted his kissing but kept his lips close to her skin as he tested her. “Oh, really?” He locked her in place with his crossed arms around her small torso to mischievously handle her sides with his fingers. “Then this should fulfill your need for attention, right?”

Carpenter yelped as she released his neck to try and clamp her elbows in between his itching fingertips, already crumbling into laughter. “No-ho!” she protested, beginning to squirm a little from her failed attempt to block. “That’s not fa-ha-hair!”

“Yes, it is,” he retorted, his strength outdoing hers by far to leave her helpless in his embrace. “You wanted my attention!” He didn’t waste another moment to nuzzle his way into her neck to continue his obsessive kissing, earning a squeal from her. 

His girlfriend cringed, the elevation of her shoulders mixed with her hands making an effort to push him away leaving the majority of her torso open to his mercy. And she felt him take advantage of it as one of his hands migrated up to tickle her underarm, while the other stretched to target the frontal surface of her stomach. “Nooo-ho-ho-aha-ha-ha! Chad, sta-ha-hap!” She was notorious for biting off more than she could chew, and she was the only one to blame, having invited herself into his hold for sensual captivation.

The sound of her laughter was the best sound he’d ever heard. It was healing, even amongst her spontaneous wriggling. She didn’t laugh very hard too often because of her asthma, but when she did, it was priceless. It was a reminder of every single thing that made him weak for her. She was an angel that had her wings clipped a million times before, but they always mended. She was a fighter, a survivor, an angel on earth. Beautiful, powerful, young, and a blessing.

Chad melted into Tara’s sweet scent as he continued to tease her, not intending to but happening to find the bare skin of her midriff beneath the loose fit of her pajama top. He heard her nearly shriek as her head went back to expose more of her throat, but he figured enough was enough for tonight. He knew she was tired, and this had probably taken up all the energy she had left. Plus, she had class tomorrow morning.

“Chad, plea-hease!” she begged around her guffaws, “You’re gonna ma-hake me pee!”

He obediently backed down, pulling away from her neck and repositioning his arms back to where they were initially supporting her. When he found her face, her skin was flushed red with tears formed at the corners of her eyes from the intensity of her laughter. “Has justice been served?” he teased, playing around with her studying to become a lawyer.

She was still panting, fading giggles coming through every now and then as she settled. She nodded, “Yeah… sure. Court is adjourned.” 

He smiled at her, before delivering one last, loving kiss on her cheek. And right before he pulled away, she returned a kiss of her own to his jawline, then heaved a final recovery sigh. 

When she felt his arms loosen around her back, she took it upon herself to shift positions, moving both of her legs to be on one side of him while she turned herself 90° to lower herself in a slouch and lean against his chest with her head on his clavicle. She reached behind her to grab the abandoned Xbox controller and turned the console on. “You can keep playing now,” she allowed, turning the controller over to him.

Chad took it in one hand and felt her nestle against him to make herself comfortable. “You don’t mind?”

“Mm-mm,” she answered, while shaking her head. “But I’m sitting here whether you like it or not.”

He reloaded his game and hooked his other arm around her to handle the controls. “Anything for you, Tara.”

And it was true. Anything for her…

His love. His life. His perfect.

His angel.

reeeeeeee literally wrote this as it came to me so pls don't judge me.

lowkey really pissed off with the fact that i can't post as consistently as i'd hoped for. #flop

special thanks to Luke Combs's "Beautiful Crazy", George Strait's "Baby Blue", RaeLynn's "Say", and Bryan Adams's "Nothing I've Ever Known" - these 4 songs had me during this prompt.

All my best! ♡ - parker

[onedayatatime-please]

Wednesday, Aug 14th, 2024. 6:35 pm

I’m happy today. I went and ate lunch near the expressway and watched the cars go by. I listened to a lot of good music.

I had a moment in the morning where I was extremely nervous for my upcoming therapy appointment. I had to reschedule for a few hours earlier, and the fact that I would actually be doing this hit me all at once and it took me a while to calm down. I’ve been trying to think about it passively throughout the day so I get used to the idea, but each time I do I get nauseous. That kind of people-related anxiety isn’t at all unusual for me and I would not count it as a negative tally in my day.

I don’t think i had a single suicidal thought today. I feel confident and generally well minded. Today was a good day.

I am currently in a field of clover and I have a ice cold can of seltzer cause it is very hot out. There are many mosquitos and dragonflies and starlings. I wish I had brought bug spray, but a few mosquito bites won’t hurt me.

I am not dead yet, and I will do my best to keep it that way.

8:07 pm edit:

Ran into someone I was not expecting to. I grew up with him, best friends in the cradle kinda shit. We haven’t spoken in years and it’s my fault. I don’t know if it’s really my fault cause I had my reasons but I don’t know if they are good enough and god damn do I feel guilty. He just sorta stood and stared when he saw me and he didn’t hug me like his parents did. I feel nauseous and lightheaded. I don’t talk to anyone from my childhood anymore unless they are family and everytime I was the one to make that decision, but I didn’t tell them I had made it, I just stopped texting. I ghosted pretty much all of the people I spent the first decade of my life with. When it happened I was too young and wrapped up in my own mental and physical self preservation that I couldn’t think of any better way to do it and now I feel too guilty to even know how to reach out and apologize, or if it is even necessary to apologize. Or if any of them would actually care if I did.

The other part of it is that I don’t really feel the need or want to have a relationship with any of these people. Being with them would bring up too much shit. It’s this part of my life I’ve tried really really hard to put behind me. But I know I’ve hurt them and I feel terrible. I feel like a coward for being too scared to relive my guilt and trauma to heal relationships with them. I don’t know if that is a feeling based in reality or not. It’s 9:21 now and I’m still nauseous. I feel disassociated and I’ve started having full body ticks. If there weren’t people at my house I know I would go home and have a panic attack. I do not think i will get much sleep tonight as I will be on the couch. It makes me feel so much worse that I wish that I just could have not seen him at all. I wish that I was able to continue going though my day without being confronted by my guilt. I feel like I’m constantly running away from what I’m actually feeling and the actions of my past that have caused harm because the guilt I feel for those actions is so intense.

I don’t know what to fucking do. And I feel bad because now I feel like I shouldn’t even be writing this whole thing out. I shouldn’t be making this about myself.

My chest hurts very much and most of my current inner monologue is just imagining jumping in front of a car.

We used to be inseparable, and now we can barely hold a 30 second conversation and he looked like he wanted to bolt the whole time.

I think that I feel the need to inflict emotional and physical pain on myself to compensate for the guilt I feel. If I can hurt myself more then I’ve hurt other people then we’re even. Eye for an eye and all that. Whenever I feel guilty or embarrassed my first instinct is to slam my head against the wall or put the nearest knife into my leg. I can’t help but think it, picture it repeatedly in my minds eye. Sometimes my brain will even give me weird phantom pains to imitate the pain I would feel if I hurt myself the way I want to.

^^daily reminder of why I’m deciding to go back to therapy

I know that I’m freaking out rn because of PTSD alongside the guilt. Which again, bc of PTSD I don’t want to know any of these people. But I still feel guilty for breaking it off the way I did and then not rebuilding the relationship with them. “I don’t just feel one emotion, I feel two emotions” -John Mulaney

Fuck this started off as such a good day. New rule: no more saying it was a good day untill I’m in bed half asleep so probably no big emotion will happen after that.

I hate feeling this way. This is gonna sound so stupid but Jesus Christ I want my brain to be fucking normal I don’t want all of this bullshit I want things to be easy

I’m done for now, I need to go home.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

10:49 pm edit:

I’m so tired, but I’m in bed, so that’s fine. My sister has her two best friends over as a going away party before she moves to another country. I drank a bit even though I know I shouldn’t. It was only one glass of wine but I still gave into the craving because I was disassociated and panicked. My chest still hurts quite a bit. I want to self harm very much. I will not Self harm.

I am going to watch some YouTube and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll play some call of duty if I’m not too tired. Tomorrow I will wake up and take a shower and wash my face and brush my teeth. Im gonna make myself an egg sandwich for breakfast. I’m gonna have my therapy appointment and then hang out with my sister and cousins. I’m making dinner tomorrow night for the whole family, mom, dad, sister, aunt, cousins. I will make a lentil soup, a roasted chicken, and toast with pesto, tomato, and goat cheese on the side.

I like cooking very much. I can make something, and take care of people at the same time. I will not Self harm because I love the people who love me. And I love making them food.

I am not dead yet, and I will do my best to keep it that way.

[wispisstillverybored67]

Good Morning, World!

You can call me Marshmallow Fluff. I'm 29 years old. Not that you'd care, but I reside in Food Town's Candy District. Also, I've yet to marry. To make a living, I own a library, and I also occasionally sell my own novels. After I close up shop, I return home no later than 9:45 PM. I don't drink, but do enjoy an occasional smoke. I'm always in bed by 11 PM, and I make it a habit to get no less then 8 and a half hours of sleep each night. Before bed, I drink a warm glass of milk, coupled with 20 minutes of stretching to decompress from the day. Sweet dreams are the usual result of this. I then awake reborn and recharged as a child, ready to take on the day's challenges. And after my last checkup, I was given a clean bill of health...

Wake up. It's currently 7:30 AM. I would've liked to stay in a little earlier, but it's laundry day, and I would really prefer to get that done in the morning. I then crawled out of bed, still nude, and went off to go to the bathroom to clean up. ~🎵.

I'm nearly out of toothpaste, man... CONSERVE, brush (always bet on bubblegum), apply a bit of concealer to any blemishes, to which I've noticed that they're disappearing now. I mean, marshmallows don't have blemishes, they're marshmallows. Perfect little thingies~

Take a bit of hair gel, and gather my hair upwards. Just enough to keep the lot upwards throughout the day. Tie it in a pony, and there you have it. I suppose Candy can go some few days more until harvest day. Splash some water on my face, and that’s it for this one. 

 Now it’s time for breakfast. What shall I have for today? Hmm… Maybe an omelet with fried rice? Or a bagel with some cream cheese and jelly? Hmmhmhmm~🎵 Aha! Baguette! I bought some cod roe a few days ago, and I’ve got a nice idea… Take a turkey baster, fill it up with the crushed roe, stick it into one end and push, stick it in the toaster for a few minutes, slice and serve with olive oil. Just got to remember to spread some butter before the roe. This is going to be good. 

"Mornin' Maflu!" A highly familiar voice called from under the table, the moment I popped it in to toast. Pretending to ignore it, I just sat down at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Nothing interesting, of course, but still, I'm curious. Tales taken from what's going on in Food Town, one or two pages regulated to the closest human settlement for some God-forsaken reason, the usual things. Nothing on the Spice District, as usual... 

"Good morning, Candy," I finally responded in kind. Do I even bother asking how long she's been hanging under there. Not going to find any info through that. 

"You still going through the newspaper? You're like an old lady! Candy knows for a FACT that ain't fun! What part are you on???" She crawled off the floor, and hung off my shoulder. 

"The human sect. You're more interested in the human news. What even is there to look at? Candy bets they don't even have good candy there!" It's where they get supplies, you know... 

"I'm not harvesting the marshmallow fluff, if that's what you're implying." I know exactly why she's here. Whenever my hair, my namesake, soft, pure white and fluffy, reaches the floor, Candy will cut it all off, and eat it at her leisure. And every time it gets long enough, she tries to squeeze it out earlier, and I never budge. 

"Pleaaaaaaaaassssseeeeeee??? It's at the floor!" She insisted, making little puppy eyes on occasion. 

Sighing, I stood up straight. An inch or two off the ground is not on the ground. She started drooling, as expected. 

"I'll let you cut it this time around, how does that sound?" 

"AKSJEKTJTKJWLEBRKDNWKNFKGJF!" Dunno how she makes those noises. Or how that would make a difference. But Candy shall do what Candy pleases. She quickly left the house, still crawling. 

*ding!* Alright! This is going to be good... 

Cuuuuut it cut it cut it cut it...

Hmmhmhmm~🎵 As I thought, this is quite good. Yes, this went better then I suspected. Nom. One would think the flavors would be jumbled, but it's not at all. I made a good call here, now. After breakfast, I'll take care of the laundry~

Minutes later, it's now 8:15 am. I'd expect Dumpling to already be awake for his usual rounds. Rounds of avoiding Cinnamon, rounds of patrolling and getting lost in the woods, the works.

Grab the near-overflowing basket of dirty clothing from the basement, separate the whites from the rest of the lot, head outside to load up the washing machine, pour the right solutions in it, and after it's on, I don't have to do anything until the next hour or so. And luckily for me, the library isn't far a ways from the house. Just set a reminder on a clock, and we're done. Yoink. Beep. Presto. 

Now it's time to get dressed. The usual lot will do... White shirt under beige vest, black tie, yellow skirt, long enamel boots, fluffy wrist bands, little soft earrings, black hair bow~ And don't forget my glasses. Ta-da. Time to head to work. 

______________________________________________________________

Flip the "Sorry, We're Closed :(" sign over, undo the blinds from inside. Let's begin... I recently gained access to a handful of... manga, I think it's called, and some movies that I haven't gotten to sorting out that I ought to take care of today. I wonder what's inside...

I opened the boxes and dug into it. Movies of varying topics it may be, the one thing that matters to the one that's checking out is how cool the cover looks. Moving to the DVD shelves to start, I don't even think I payed attention to what I saw, which ones I recognized. I have little interest in movies, but Risotto always liked watching them. Hey, now that I think about it... where is he? Hmm... 

Belle, Black Swan, Blazing Saddles, Carrie, Detective Pikachu, Grease, Midsommar, Midsummer Knight's Dream, Mugen Train, Pulp Fiction, Rebellion, Se7en, Spirited Away, Walpurgisnacht Rising. A very curious mixture, but the M section was looking a little thin, so it's a welcome addition. I put them all away like clockwork, sorting the rest of the shelf out on the way. It's a very relaxing thing to do, sorting things out. 

The moment I put away the last flick, someone comes in for a book. The chime I installed last week is a lifesaver. 

*ting-a-ling~* "Morning, Marshmallow Fluff!"

"Good morning, Tomato," Quickly, I headed back to the check-out area. I know exactly what will happen. 

He simply needed to return the books he took out last week. And he didn't get any tomato sauce on it this time, so there's that bonus.

 

*beep* Before I moved here, the library in where I used to live had an automatic drop-off. Maybe I'll go ask Cinnamon about adding something like that later... 

Then he was off to fetch something else. The card just needs to be scanned, and this transaction is finished. 

"Is that all for you this time?" ...Jujutsu Kaisen? I thought he wasn't like that. Oh well. 

"Yeah. Real fun stuff this time. *ding* Thanks, man!" And just as quickly, he left. 

"Have a good day."

By this time, the rest of the box had been put away, though my alarm hadn't gone off yet, which is odd. Even Chili of all people came in for a book, though it was brief, as expected from someone like her. By this time, I should head out to find those who are late, and remind them of such. In that case, it would be... Dumpling. It shouldn't be that bad. Low Tide is the title that was missing for a while, and if I remind him, he'll move faster then he can scramble to pet a cat. And while I look for him, I can ask around for where Risotto went, because I believe he owes me, too. And people know to simply wait until I return from my rounds. Okay, let's head outside...

______________________________________________________________

It's now 9:35 am. Letting the laundry go over an extra 25 minutes seems to have done the trick. The unusual-origin stains have come out. I've since stuffed the lot in the drier, while the colors have gone in their place. Now, I am headed to the Grains District. 

"Hey, Marshmallow Fluff!" "Oh, good morning!" It's Bread and Butter. Maybe they know some...Why is she covered in flour? 

"Hey you two, have you..." Catching myself, I asked about that other thing. "Butter, why are you drenched in flour?"

"I found a recipe for baking bread. But while we were making it..." She began to giggle a little. It's a funny sight, I'll admit. 

"Something got up my nose and I sneezed," He added. Well, as they say. If at first you don't succeed, figure out why.

"Uh... huh. You really need to be careful with that. Oh, by the way..." I nearly left without mentioning why I was here at the moment. "Have either of you seen Dumpling or Risotto around here?" 

"Oh, that's it? One of 'em owe you?" She knows me well... 

"That, and Risotto hasn't called me on when he disappeared, like he tends to..." 

"I think I saw him follow Dumpling in the woods. I caught the two dashing out when I woke up from the window." Really now? What business do they have running about in the woods? Dumpling, I can understand with his designation as greeter (for whatever reason he wanted to be such), wanting to find fellow Food, but Risotto? Come on now. He's afraid of his own shadow. 

"Seriously? Well, thank you for that regardless. If you two see them again, tell them I'm looking for them. ...And when you're done with the baking, tell me the results, okay?" When I was given confirmation, I decided to go there now. Bread may have called out to me as I ran off to the woods, but I chose to ignore it. I shall have to take care of drying clothes when I get back. Shouldn't be too hard, now, right? 

[kopivie]

big ol' rant btc. tw for eating and food-related complications. mentions weight, numbers, clothing sizes, etc. possibly an eating disorder? though i don't see it as such.

tl;dr: i'm just... tired. that's all i can ever tell anybody these days because it's true, whether i want it to be or not. i'm so, so tired.

y'know, i often think that i'm doing okay in regards to eating, but then i have moments like i did two hours ago where my body forces itself to shut down because i am simply malnourished. it's not like i'm putting off eating intentionally, nor am i avoiding eating for extended periods of time (days specifically). it's just that my stomach is incredibly small and can be easily filled with one hot cup of coffee and a few bottles of water per day.

i do my best to eat high protein foods at least once a day so i don't shut myself off and actually go long stretches of time without food, especially since i work in such a busy space. but when my stomach is very sensitive and can't even expand much more beyond a few bites of half of a sandwich (i.e.: the bacon egg and cheese that was sacrificed in my attempt to eat this morning), i don't have much of a choice but to stay away from food since being over full can make anyone, not just myself, feel bad.

so basically, even though i had.. maybe four bites of one half of that sandwich at around 11:30 this morning, i still came home at around 5 pm today exhausted and freezing, and i had to force myself to nap under layers of blankets at 7 pm due to the sheer lack of energy in my system. i woke up at 9 pm, and now i'm trying to eat once again (baked ziti with lots of meat sauce because again, lots of protein). i'm getting super bummed though because i'm... not making much of a dent again. i can't finish all this, even if i sat here all night. i even woke up exhausted and still had the urge to sleep.

i was under the impression that i was fine because i recall eating four chicken wings yesterday as well as some ice cream, but as i realize that i cannot remember exactly what time i ate those things, the current state of my body starts to make more sense. all in all, i don't know what else to do. i think i'm on my tenth bite of ziti, but it's probably just going to get covered up and put in the fridge because i just... cannot eat. i want to, and trust me when i say i love food and the act of eating brings me joy, but i just... can't. not when my stomach is the size of a pea.

to add insult to injury, i'm getting worse at hiding the state of my body from others. in the past i was able to ignore my dizziness and fainting spells from my bosses and parents, but everyone is so observant at my job now. i actually have a little circle of mothers who ask me if i've eaten. i wear a company jacket or layer up, and if i so much as yawn or shiver around them, they glare at me and ask me if i've eaten/if they need to buy me lunch during our breaks even if they don't align. i refused some tiny waffles at the meeting earlier today and my coworker turned around and stared daggers into my face. i had to avoid eye contact and pretend to do something else for a long time.

...anyway.

i think i've eaten my fill of this ziti. whenever i eat these days, i become horribly sleepy. fortunately this only happens when i'm at home since i regulate how much i eat (and if i eat at all) when i'm at work on my breaks, but i'm disappointed in myself. i need to make food that i'm guaranteed to eat, but i never have the energy to do so. i'm always in bed doing nothing because i simply cannot exert any more energy outside of what i can muster for work. i don't know what to do, i'm disappointing and concerning the people around me, and the worst part is that i enjoy the results.

not the dizziness of course, but the fact that i am as thin as i have always wanted to be. i'm not underweight -- far from it, actually. i've never left the realm of ~120 lbs (54 kg), which is average for my height. the only time i did raise some red flags was when i was 115 lbs (~52 kg) last summer, and i was wearing my belts tightly despite dropping my pants sizes to a 4 from an 8. i'm comfortably at around a 6 or so now (i think), and i wear small sizes with ease (and baggy mediums if i'm careful).

(i say this, but i could be wrong about how i look to others. my coworkers have repeatedly taken note of the fact that i have lost weight, or that i'm super thin, or that i could fit the large children's sizes that we have in stock with varying degrees of jealousy.)

i'm not concerningly thin. i would know -- i've been that way before, even if my actual weight wasn't enough to warrant a psych ward visit. genetically, i'm doomed to be an american's worst nightmare, but i'm just... not. i did have a period of time when i took medication that caused me to gain weight, but i suddenly started pushing overweight territory, so i immediately backed off of it for my mental health. right now i feel i'm at a balance where i can be seen as healthy. it's just that i don't feel that way.

basically...

i regularly complain of being freezing in typically warm environments (accompanied by regular shivers and ice-cold hands)

when i say i'm tired, others mention that my eyes are barely open, i'm stumbling about/look unsteady on my feet, and my speech is slower than normal

i literally cannot move when i absolutely need to. like right now, i need to cover up my food and put it away but i just.. cannot move. i can't even bring myself to drink something. it's not executive dysfunction -- lord knows that i know what that feel like -- so i dunno what this is.

just... i dunno. i don't even eat ice cream or mac and cheese anymore because i feel like i can't enjoy it. and those are my favorite foods ever. i dunno, man.

[celtfather]

Making Better Things, Sustainable Music with Kyle Carey

My goal is to get someone to share what I make. Highlight a new theme each week.

Your mom is calling! Or is it? It might be a scammer. But I can help you protect yourself. Can we make the music business more sustainable? I have an interview with Kyle Carey.

This is Sci Fi Pub Songs & Stories #269.

0:16 - Marc Gunn “Romulan Ale” from Sci Fi Drinking Songs

3:23 - WELCOME TO SCI FI PUB SONGS & STORIES

This is the audio edition of my newsletter. I am Marc Gunn. I’m a Rhythm & Folk Celtic musician in Atlanta. I play traditional Irish and Scottish drinking songs, but I am also a songwriter. I write songs Celtic culture and fuse them pop culture, things like Lord of the Rings, Firefly, Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who and more.

If you’re new to the show, please subscribe. You can do that at PubSong.com. Or even better send me an email to pubsong@ celtfather. You can not only subscribe, but you can also download all of my songs in this show. You will get an email with a link to download this month’s songs. It’s quick and easy.

Oh! And let me know what you’re doing while listening to this episode.

And as you hopefully heard in the last episode when I say I have CDs. Your job is to shout, “You have CDs!”

5:01 - UPCOMING SHOWS

APR 6: Dragon Con Filk Music Concert with Brobdingnagian Bards @ 7 PM CST

APR 8-9: Sherwood Forest Faire, Paige, TX

APR 20: Cat Drinking Songs on Bandcamp @ 7 PM EST

APR 21-23: Jordan Con, Atlanta, GA

APR 29. The Lost Druid Earth Day Biking Concert, Avondale Estates @ 6:30-9:30 PM

JUN 3-10: Celtic Invasion Vacations, County Mayo, Ireland

5:43 - Marc Gunn “A Well-Dressed Hobbit” from Don’t Go Drinking With Hobbits

8:02 - KYLE CAREY IS MAKING MUSIC MORE SUSTAINABLE

Kyle Carey plays Gaelic Americana music. She’s originally from New Hampshire and sings songs in Irish and Scots Gaelic. Her songwriting is inspired by American and Celtic folklore.

She has a brand new Kickstarter currently running for her album, The Last Bough.

23:59 - Kyle Carey “June Day” from North Star

27:50 - SUPPORT THE THINGS YOU LOVE

If you enjoy this show and want to keep it going, join over 150 other Gunn Runners on Patreon. Every week, you get bonus podcasts, downloadable songs, printed sheet music, blogs, or stories from the road. Plus, you get weekly access to my Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts and discounts on merch. Sign up for as little as $5 per month. You can also save 15% with an annual membership. I make music and podcasts because of your generosity so please join the Club today!

Thanks to my newest Gunn Runners on Patreon: Alice M, Karla A, Triskele, Ayden B

28:49 - DEFENDING YOURSELF FROM AI DEEP FAKES

One of my favorite podcasts to listen to is called Akimbo. It’s by Seth Godin, a brilliant marketer and thought leader. He constantly challenges his listeners to “make things better by making better things.” That resonates with me.

One of my early Irish & Celtic Music Podcast slogans was “changing the way you hear Celtic music.” That was about improving the culture, embracing change, recognizing that our past is important but so is our future. That’s what podcasting is all about. Or it can be.

This week, Seth didn’t something intriguing. He asked ChatGPT to evaluate the functions, the future, and the problems of artificial intelligence like ChatGPT. He recorded the responses…

Well, sort of.

It turned out the entire recording, except the intro, was an AI voice manipulator that sounded almost exactly like Seth Godin. There was one moment in the recording that I thought, this is kind of dry sounding. I chalked it up to ChatGPT. Little did I know, it wasn’t Seth speaking.

My mom just shared an AI scam that’s happening. I have an idea on how to fix. Thank you Harry Potter!

The scam is that an AI simulator will call you on the phone and have the same voice as someone you know. They say that they are in financial trouble. They ask for your help.

What do you do?

At some point, the simulator will be good enough to fool you. Just like Seth Godin’s podcast fooled me. We’re already there. But I immediately came up with a defense. It’s from the final books of Harry Potter.

I’ll let ChatGPT explain:

“In the final books of the Harry Potter series, Remus Lupin asked Harry Potter a question to prove that he was not an imposter. The question was: "What is the secret of the Marauder's Map?" This was a question that only the true creators of the map - Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew - would know the answer to.

Harry correctly answered that the map was activated by tapping it with one's wand and saying "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and that it could be closed by tapping it again and saying "Mischief managed." This answer convinced Lupin that Harry was indeed who he claimed to be.”

Yeah. I was talking about it with my mom and realized this is the way we need to protect ourselves from THIS AI scam.

We ask a question that only the person we’re talking with would know the answer to.

Seems simple. But it’s a good lesson to pass on. So please please share this idea. Because at some point, you won’t be able to tell who’s real and who’s not.

Mind you, that’s not to scare you. As I said at the beginning, change is inevitable. We need to work with this bizarre new paradigm. As Seth Godin’s podcast points out, it can be beneficial or it can be hurtful. We have the power to choose and to make change. So let’s do something for the better.

Oh and if you want some more thoughts on ChatGPT by Andrew McKee and me. We did a great podcast on it on the Brobdingnagian Bards Podcast.

37:47 - Marc Gunn “The Long Arm” from As Long As I’m Flyin’

39:33 - CREDITS

Thanks for listening to Sci Fi Pub Songs & Stories. The show is brought to you by my Gunn Runners on Patreon. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs.

You can subscribe and listen to the show wherever you find podcasts. Sign up to my mailing list to read the show notes for this episode and find out where I’m performing. And of course, please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Have fun and sing along at www.pubsong.com!

#pubstories #kylecarey #ecofriendlymusicians

Check out this episode!

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo - the best mcc team

this is an extra to the great adventures series

the moment you found out ranboo got into mcc you instantly ran into the room you were sharing pulling him into a hug you were honestly so proud of him and he was going to be with tubbo

“BOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU YOU'RE GOING TO DO AMAZING”

unfortunately, you weren’t going to be in mcc this month but that didn’t stop you from being over the moon for your friend. when it was finally time for mcc you wished your friend good luck and apologised for not being able to watch his pov as you weren’t about to break the tradition of watching Tommy after all he was your first and biggest supporter. 3 hours later the event ended and everyone who was watching ranboos pov heard you faintly screaming at Tommy over discord whilst tubbo sat laughing and ranboo was concerned, he heard from Tommy that you would often yell at him however he didn’t believe that he was being honest

“FUCK YOU TOMMY STOP LAUGHING YOU HIT ME IN TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE ON PURPOSE THEN LAUGHED ABOUT ME NOT BEING IN…..fine when I get in I’m requesting to be on Scott's team…I’m still mad at you but you did great I'm so proud of you congrats Tommy I’ll see you soon goodbye”

at the start of the next month, you received a message from Scott

Scott: so I have a few things to tell you 1 - how would you feel about becoming head twitch mod it’s only fair you’ve been my mod for a while and 2 - welcome to mcc make sure to fill in the form asap!

y/n: 1 - of course I’d love to be head twitch mod and 2 - heh??

not long later you received a form at the same time as your friends, you decided not to tell anyone and somehow you managed to keep it a secret, Scott agreed to lie to the others about whos team they’re on as he knew how excited everyone was going to be. today was the day your big secret would be released, you Tommy tubbo and ranboo were sat outside when the notification went out announcing the team honestly you’ll never forget the look on their faces when they realised

MCChampionship_ tweeted: 👑announcing team green guardians 👑

@tommyinnit @tubbolive @ranboosaysstuff @y/n

Watch them in MCC on Saturday, August 28th at 8 pm BST!

“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK”

“congrats y/n”

ranboo didn’t say anything he just tackled you into a hug like you did last month when you found he was in mcc. Tommy and tubbo were still processing what they just read

“Scott fucking lied to me”

“aye I told him to”

“what the fuck”

from then the four of you would constantly stream with each other on the mcc training server, you were a strong team when you weren’t yelling at each other.

time flew by soon enough it was the 28th of August. Tommy genuinely couldn’t believe it his best friend was in mcc and on a team with him and he genuinely believed you all had a decent chance in winning as you were a strong team. Tommy invited you over to stream mcc he claimed it was because there would be three people trying to stream in the same room, in reality, it was because he wanted to see your reaction and be there for your first mcc.

Tommy let you stream from his room he had spent the previous night getting advice from tubbo on how he managed to set up so he could stream with ranboo in the same room.

“you ready y/n”

“of course I’ve been watching and learning from the best”

you and Tommy set up and joined the discord call and the mcc server, it was finally time. similarly to ranboo this was something you had wanted to do since Tommy told you all about it on your way home from school one day. 30 minutes later it was time for the games to begin and this is where the chaos began.

“you know what I hope it’s build mart”

“what the fuck y/n”

“fuck you I’m good at build mart- oh you’re joking it’s fucking parkour tag”

this is when you realised that two screaming teenagers in the same room both trying to stream the event wasn’t the best idea, you and Tommy would constantly scream at poor ranboo who was just trying to hunt the other team

“RANBOO CATCH THEM”

“really y/n?! I thought I’d let them win this round”

unsurprisingly your team was doing great you had won 7/8 rounds but there was still one more round, determined to be the one to get dream you decided to be the hunter

“y/n don’t worry if you can’t get them we’re doing well”

“Y/N IGNORE RANBOO ME AND TOMMY DON'T WANT TO LOSE”

“not putting pressure on me at all thank you boys”

being close friends with technoblade gave you an advantage you didn’t expect due to the fact he helped to “train” you for your first mcc which ended up being the reason you were able to catch them all and then helped the others avoid being caught

“tubbo he's to your left TUBBO I SAID HES TO YOUR LEFT WHY ARE YOU GOING LEFT TOMMY RUN RUN RUN RUN ranboo you’re doing great”

“NO WAY”

you had just successfully won the round against dream sapnap George and quackity and you would never let dream live this down

“do you guys think dream will let me be in one of his manhunts now”

“no”

“fuck you tubbo you’re just mad you couldn’t catch all the runners in yellow yaks. you couldn’t catch jack manifold”

so far everything was going well you were currently in 4th place and your team had high hopes. you all felt the need to confirm to your chats that you’re all not actually mad at each other and not to worry about everything.

the next game was survival games ranboo wasn’t ready for this due to the last mcc where he died pretty early on, it started well you all stuck together as a team until the game was nearly over and you got distracted by a chest and ran away from the others whilst they were fighting another team this ended up being a happy accident in disguise you got the notification that Tommy tubbo and ranboo were killed fighting another team

“oh fuck”

“WE COULD HAVE WON WAIT Y/N DID YOU DIE”

“no”

tubbo could practically hear your smile as you explained to them that you ran off and was currently under a tree watching the others fight, you used the fact they died in the game to your advantage they would tell you if anyone was coming to attack you whilst you ran around collecting loot avoiding the others shooting arrows

“AYO STOP FUCKING SHOOTING ME ITS MY FIRST MCC LET ME WIN”

“Y/N HAVE YOU GOT LAVA”

“I DO AAAAAA PISS OFF LET ME WIN”

“USE THE LAVA YOU CAN EASILY TAKE OUT HALF OF THE REMAINING PLAYERS”

to everyone’s surprise, it worked due to the border being smaller so there was less room to run soon it was you vs punz at this point you were determined to win

“GO Y/N GO GO GO HIT HIM YOU CAN DO IT”

“you’re doing so well y/n”

some may call it beginners luck but you ended up winning the fight against punz

“LETS FUCKING GO Y/N”

“I DID IT OH MY GOD”

the next game was hole in the wall and long story short you sucked, ranboo on the other hand did not. it didn’t take long for you to fall every single round. this helped the others though as you were able to yell which side the wall was coming from

“fuck this stupid game the wall hates me”

“y/n you're supposed to jump through the gaps“

“you know what no I’m going to get on a sapnap alt stream by glitching through”

this didn’t work you died again

“well fuck there I go I guess you’ve got this though guys Tommy you’re doing decent”

“I'm doing great thank you- oh I died FUCK YOU FOR DISTRACTING ME”

“blah blah blah GO TUBBO AND RANBOO”

you couldn’t believe it ranboo was one of the final people remaining, unfortunately, ranboo jumped too late resulting in him falling but nonetheless you were proud of him

“unlucky boo you all did great”

the next game was battle box the four of you had been practising this a lot so there was a lot of pressure to do well especially since you were now in the top 3 on the leaderboard, the strategies you made from practicing paid off you managed to win the majority of the rounds, however, there was a lot of screaming and arguing during the last round

“RANBOO STOP STEALING MY KILLS OR I'M GOING TO START HITTING YOU WITH A SWORD”

“he’s been stealing mine too y/n”

tubbo was honestly playing well during this game and you were amazed

unfortunately, the arguing resulted in you losing the round as you were all focusing on arguing which meant you missed the other team rushing to wool

“unlucky boys”

“7 wins out of 9 rounds honestly isn’t that bad we should still be third we just need to stay strong with the rest of the games”

during the break before the last four games, the four of you sat making plans for the next few round

“I want to get to the other side last I think that will be our strength”

there was still a rather long break left so you did what anyone else would do run around the server and yell this was a huge mistake as it messed with the soundproofing resulting in tommys mic picking you up and vice versa

“so I guess we’re streaming like this now”

“FIX IT”

“well since you asked so nicely tubso…no”

tubbo ended up doing the same to the soundproofing in the room he was in with ranboo were in meaning all four of you were now having a scuffed stream as you ran out of time to fix it because before you knew it, it was time to play sky battle

“right we should go left”

“tubbo will get iron Tommy will make the bridge and y/n will do…something”

you did the same thing techno did in the pride mcc and hid occasionally breaking blocks from underneath people so they would fall the others were doing well the game was a mixture of you all encouraging each other and you all cursing each other out whilst ranboo ignored you all and spoke to his chat

“chat I know you can hear double everyone if I could fix it I would but tubbo y/n and Tommy are being too stubborn to fix everything and we don’t have time”

“Y/N WHERE ARE YOU”

“making people fall to their death can we talk about our feelings now because this is stressful as hell”

“NOT THE TIME”

you all did decently you weren’t amazing at this game but that was expected it was something you all weren’t the biggest fan of but somehow you were all still in third place and that was something you weren’t expecting especially for your first mcc

it was now time for sands of time you all needed to do well

“bruh I wanted build mart what the fuck is this”

“we’re not going to win this game boys”

and tubbo would be corrected that that statement, you ended up having a visual glitch making it difficult, Tommy would constantly get trapped in a dungeon like last time things weren’t loading for ranboo you had no idea what tubbo was doing and quite frankly you didn’t want to find out unless it was going to be good news and considering all you could hear was tubbo yelling anything that came to mind you could guess it wasn’t going well. you tried to rage quit a couple of times only to be yelled at by the others every time you disconnected from the server

“Y/N STOP LEAVING”

“I CAN'T SEE SHIT”

“you’re doing well y/n stay calm we’re going to be fine”

“OH I CAN'T PLAY THIS GAME I'M DYSLEXIC”

“CLEARLY WE'RE NOT FINE TUBBO IS STRUGGLING TOMMY IS LOCKED IN A DUNGEON AND I CAN'T SEE SHIT...HAVE YOU GOT THE LETTER N YET”

“no, they’re spawning one in for me”

“could them maybe I don’t know speed up the process”

yeah you ended up losing that game and got knocked down the 4th good news is it was only by a couple hundred points

next up was ace race

“do yous reckon Scott's tested this map”

“aren’t you his head twitch mod”

“you’re right I'll message him and find out”

luckily you all managed to do pretty well, Tommy was off to a great start you tubbo and ranboo weren’t far behind you all agreed to follow each other rather than the crowd which paid off as when everyone else went the wrong way rather than following you all managed to go the right way thanks to ranboo yelling he thinks that he knows where to go and thankfully he was correct which put Tommy first tubbo second ranboo third and you fourth, you all ended up lapping people on your final lap and honestly, none of you guessed this would happen but you weren’t exactly complaining. a few moments later you all crossed the finishing line and were the first team to finish giving you the bonus points you needed to push you to second place

“did you know since I first got into mcc I would put y/ns name down for who I wanted to play with”

“TOMMY OH MY GODDDD”

a few seconds later you showed up on Tommy's face cam as you ran over to him giving him a hug

“you’re doing great y/n we might get into dodgebolt”

“dude we’re winning this shit”

soon enough it was time for the last game (unless you got into dodgebolt) and luckily it was to get to the other side

“we've got this we have actually got this we’re going to get to dodgebolt”

you stuck with Tommy for almost every round mainly because speed bridging wasn’t for you. you were all doing great you were the first team to finish for multiple rounds however you were also the last team to finish for a few rounds

“boys I'm not sure if we’ll get through”

“We all had fun”

“if we get into dodgebolt we’re going to be against dream”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING FOCUS”

“no- OW TOMMY HIT ME WITH A PEN”

“IT WAS THE CLOSEST THING WOULD YOU RATHER I CHUCK MY COMPUTER MOUSE”

“will you two quit fighting we’re about to find out the final scores.”

3..2..1

“oh my god”

“what the fuck”

“ranboo and y/n are about to play dodgebolt”

“LETS GO WHAT THE FUCK”

you all did it you successfully kept 2nd place somehow now all you had to do was win dodgebolt against dream George sapnap and quackity. safe to say you and ranboo were nervous as fuck and rightfully so as you all lost the first game

“let’s be serious we need to focus now”

you all won the next round

“LETS FUCKING GO WE'VE GOT THIS”

it was now the third round Tommy and tubbo were now out it was you and ranboo against dream and sapnap

“bruh were fucked ranboo”

ranboo took aim and somehow hit sapnap whilst you took a moment to type a message in chat

y/n: it’s my first mcc how do you feel knowing you’re about to lose

it was now your turn to take aim and Tommy yelling in the background wasn’t helping you and the yelling made you shoot before you were ready luckily ranboo picked up an arrow and was able to hit dream, it was now 1 vs 2 if you won this round you would all be the champions and that’s exactly what happened you all quit yelling at each other hell you muted the discord call so you could focus all you could hear was Tommy next to you occasionally supporting you

“come on y/n final round. you’re about to win your first mcc I’m so proud of you”

“you’re doing amazing Tommy thank you for everything now let’s win this thing”

and just like that, it was over Tommy took the final shot and hit sapnap

you all unmuted the four of you yelling

“TOMMY TUBBO RANBOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU GUYS”

“WE DID IT WE FUCKING DID IT”

“OH MY GOD”

“WELL DONE EVERYONE”

this time Tommy ran over to you pulling you into a hug he was genuinely so proud of you and the others

“you did it y/n you won your first mcc that’s amazing”

“I couldn’t have done it without you or the others I love you all”

after talking to the other teams and ending stream

you and Tommy stayed on call with tubbo and ranboo

“you two need to make your way back here”

“me and y/n could probably catch a train if we’re very quick”

you nodded and quickly grabbed everything you needed thankfully your good luck hadn’t come to an end yet as you and Tommy were able to catch one of the last trains, Tommy had an arm around you as he noticed you were getting tired after all you did just go through the stress of your first mcc to over 170k viewers you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder a few hours passed and you were at the last stop Tommy lightly tapped your shoulder

“hey y/n were here tubbo and ranboo are waiting for us over there…let’s go celebrate this win shall we”

an: do not publish my work :)

taglist:

@emma0nline @fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @bearytime @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

[guardianofrivendell]

Stranger Danger

Modern!Kíli x reader

Requested: Yes! @roosliefje asked "Can you maybe write a modern Kíli story, with you being friends but there might be something more?”

Warnings: nothing much, miscommunication maybe and oh yeah... an unwanted guest! I feel like this trope has been used a lot but who cares :)

A/N: Oh my God, @roosliefje I am SO SORRY! You requested this months ago and I seriously thought I posted it, I had this written for you and everything. It was when I was editing my masterlist that a little voice in my head asked where the ‘unwanted guest’ fic was... So here you go! I didn’t check it - might do that later - and it’s probably not as well written as my current work (oh look at me being modest) because I wrote this in september (I like to think I grew a lot as a writer since then)

Kíli sighed while wiping the sweat of his forehead with the hem of his shirt. 

He really needed to clean his apartment more often, so he wouldn’t have this much work when he finally did it. He groaned, realizing he sounded just like his brother. And no, that wasn’t a good thing.  

Of course, he hadn’t done this just because he felt like cleaning. No, Kíli wasn’t that responsible. If he did something, it was because he had a good reason. And that reason happened to be you, the friend he might have had a little crush on. A tiny little, barely existing one.  

You had made countless remarks about the state of his apartment and how messy he was. But what can he say? Kíli just wasn’t the domestic type. He could live perfectly fine and content between piles of laundry and dirty dishes. Why wash a shirt or clean a plate when you still had other shirts and plates left to use?  

But since you were that type of person that had everything in its place and cleaned almost every day, he was willing to do a little more effort. Maybe that way you would visit him more often... 

He tossed his dirty shirt into the laundry basket - See? He could do this! - and walked to his bathroom to take a well-deserved shower. 

When he turned on the water, he heard his phone ping. Realizing he had left it on the dinner table, he shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the shower. It probably was his brother Fíli. It could wait until after his shower.  

When he walked into the living room ten minutes later, rubbing his wet hair with a towel and wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, he heard his phone ping again. 

He unlocked the screen and saw 4 messages and one missed call from you, the tone of every message growing more desperate. 

9:23 pm – Kee, are you home?

9:24 pm – Could you come over?

9:27 pm – PLEASE COME OVER

9:30 pm – You have 1 missed call from Y/N

9:32 pm – HELP! 

He immediately dialed your number. 

Please be okay, please be okay, he thought while hearing the familiar beeping. He cursed heavily when it turned on voicemail.  

He dialed your number again and sprinted to his bedroom to get dressed. He put his phone on speaker and tossed it on his bed, so he could dig through his drawers in search of a clean shirt.

To his relief, you answered this time. Great, he thought, at least you weren’t dead. But what he heard, didn’t put his mind at ease. On the contrary… 

“Kíli?”

“Y/N? Oh thank God, are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked while pulling his shirt over his head.

“Shhh! Stop yelling, he might hear you,” you whispered.  

He? He grabbed his phone and held it to his ear. 

“Is there someone with you? Is it your ex?” he whispered, the color slowly draining from his face at the thought of you being alone with your aggressive ex. 

“He came out of nowhere! I thought I knocked him out with my frying pan but a couple of minutes later he was gone. He’s somewhere here, but I don’t know where. I’m scared, Kee!”

Your voice broke in the last sentence and so did Kíli.  

“I’m on my way,” he said, determined to end whoever had the guts to break into your apartment and scare you to death. 

Sure, it would’ve been smart if he had alerted the police or even his brother Fíli instead, but that thought didn’t even cross Kíli’s mind.

Kíli halted mid-step when it hit him. You called him. 

You were in danger and the first one you called was him. His chest swelled at the thought.   You called him for help and he was going to be your knight in shining armor. 

He ran through the streets and reached your building in record time. Taking the stairs two at a time he bolted to the second floor.

He stood in front of your door, panting like crazy.  From inside the apartment he could hear shouting and the clattering of kitchenware being thrown around.  He took the plate with the house number and turned it sideways, so he could take the spare key out of the hole in the wall.  He’d made fun of you when you had shown him your hiding spot, but now he praised whoever was in charge up there that you had.

When he entered the apartment, he closed the door and quickly scanned the hallway and living room.  You were in your kitchen, he could hear your yelling. 

“Take this!”

The sound of a plate being thrown to the ground echoed through the apartment. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” 

A chair fell over, and Kíli could hear you whimpering in fear. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. Grabbing a small bronze statue, he silently walked towards the open kitchen door. 

“Get away from her!” he yelled, raising the statue above his head, ready to throw it at whoever was threatening you. 

He widened his eyes at the sight before him.  

Several chairs were toppled over, there were shards scattered over the floor together with some various kitchen items you’d clearly used as ammo. And then there was you, crouched down on your kitchen table.

But to his surprise you were alone.  

“Kíli? Oh thank God you’re here,” you sighed in relief.

He lowered the statue, slowly walking towards the table.  

“Where did he go?” he asked you, still clutching the statue. You pointed towards your stove.

“There!”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Come again?” 

At that moment, a huge wolf spider crawled from underneath the stove and made his way to the kitchen door.

You screamed. “Kill it! KILL IT!” 

When Kíli realized you were talking about a spider all along, he roared with laughter. 

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Kíli! Please just kill the damn thi-aaaaaah!”  

You screamed again when the wolf spider decided to go in the direction of the kitchen table. Kíli took a glass out of the cupboard and used it to catch the spider. He went to the living room and took a magazine, shoved it under the glass and took the spider outside to set it free.  

When he returned to the kitchen, he took your hand and helped you get off the table, his signature grin still plastered on his face. 

“It’s gone now, you’re safe,” he smirked. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen it yourself, he was huge!”

“First of all, it’s an ‘it’, not a ‘he’-”

“You don’t know that,” you interrupted him. 

“Let me finish,” he continued, picking up the chairs and he pushed at your shoulders to make you sit down. “Secondly, don’t you ever scare me like that again okay?”

“Scare you? I thought I was the one being scared?”

“I thought your ex or some other criminal had broken into your home. You really made it sound like that, Y/N…” Kíli rubbed his face with his hands. “God, I was so worried.”

“You were worried about me?” you repeated, eyes wide. 

“Of course I was, you’re my friend aren’t you?” Kíli noticed your cheeks flush. You looked adorable.

“Yeah… friends. Of course!” you murmured softly. 

“Friends come to each other’s rescue,” he smiled, flexing his muscles. 

“Ah yes, my knight in shining armor… but without the armor.” You rolled your eyes. “So, since you came all the way here and acted all heroic, I need to thank you with… pizza?”

“Only if we’re watching a movie. My choice!”

“Deal!” You got up from your chair and ordered two pizzas.

When you sat together on the couch half an hour later, with your pizza between you, you leaned towards Kíli and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. 

Kíli immediately went red, his hand brushing over the spot where you kissed him.  

“What was that for?” 

Not that he complained, but he didn’t want to read too much into it. 

“Saving me,” you answered, eyes locked on the tv screen.

“Anytime Y/N…” He rubbed his cheek softly, the place where you kissed him still tingling. “Anytime…”

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing 

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​

[suicidalslasher]

forever & always. ➤ tom. h.

Happy Valentine’s Day~!!! I couldn’t contain myself and or stop myself from writing about my favorite Valentine’s day killer. So, here you go :)

WARNING: descriptions of gore and blood. in this one-shot, the reader’s pronouns are she&her.  i might make a part two of this, depending on how well it does. maybe not. i like how it ends, regardless. either way. enjoy.

The news spread like wildfire. No matter which way you went, there was always a flame, reaching out towards those to burn. Try as you may, you can't get away. The words that littered the air was nothing more than burnt ashes fluttering around, burning each object as it flies above said thing or said person. In this case, the people of a small town called Valentine Bluffs were the ones burning from the inside and out. They felt trapped within the smoke, unable to seek out which way to escape the dangers that had followed.   The terror; the trauma; the panic and anxiety attacks; All of it - they thought it was long gone.... they were finally going back to being normal, how things used to be. 

They were going back to a life that wasn't full of fear, having to look behind your shoulder constantly and being careful of who you trust. It was all going to be okay, happy once more. They'd finally be able to celebrate their favorite day once again.  But... as you may have guessed, it's not quite  easy to put out a rapid wildfire. All it takes is a small fire to expand out into something bigger, bolder, and scarier. You can't escape the flames. No matter how big or small. You cannot ignore the overwhelming burning sensation that  glazes across your skin as the fire around you grows larger, making you feel smaller and smaller by the second.  The words, however, the statement that was fluttering around like specks of ash,  wasn't at all a sentence (nor an actual fire)  but a name - Harry Warden.  1997. Valentine's day. Everybody, in & out of town, knows what happened.  For a brief period of time there, nobody celebrated Valentine's day, having thought it out to be cursed.  Yet, as time went on, there was no sign of Harry Warden. No copy cat killer version of him, neither. So, the people went back to celebrating. Writing hand written love letters,  buying cheaply made cards at the local supermarket, buying and or receiving overly priced chocolates. Anything, everything, people did it with  love in their hearts and a smile on their face.  Today was Valentine's Day, once more. Expect it wasn't the way it had been for the past 9 years. It was exactly like the day in 1997. History was repeating itself.  Instead of love, presents, and reserved dinner dates being celebrated and shared, the town of Valentine Bluffs  got decomposed, rotting corpses,�� instead. Blood scattered outside and inside of buildings. 

  It was worse than before, more bodies were showing up without their hearts and the missing body piece would be found neatly placed in between a plastic heart shaped box. All of which would be sent to the police station as a joke, as  a threat.  Even a card would be taped on top or under the container, though the sentences were far from cheerful and loveable.  A few of them had been thrown aside, only having been read once. Those who opened it and read it aloud usually found themselves cringing in dismay  as they read the paragraph out loud all while  shifting around in their seat, uncomfortably.  

Once they read it, they shook their heads as tears welled up in their eyes before they threw it into the trash bin or ripped it into hundreds of tiny pieces, not daring to open another letter that's brought in. Evidence or not, the workers couldn't keep their breakfast or lunch down when they'd read the cards.  The recent two cards had said;  From the heart comes a warning, filled with bloody good cheer, remember what happened as the 14th draws near!  And the last victim, a girl named Maryanne Anderson, had gotten a card right before she was found dead, her body laying in a ditch to rot.  Her card had read; Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you.  Nobody knew who the new killer was, or if it even was a new killer, copying Harry's schemes and following in his footsteps.  It could have very well been  the same man all those years ago. That's what they were saying.   (Y/N) (L/N) was in her car, driving back home from work when her favorite song had been replaced with an alarm, cutting off her favorite part. "Oh, c'mon!" She groaned, hands hitting the steering wheel in annoyance  before she goes to turn up the volume anyways, wondering what's so important that the town and the police station had to turn off her favorite song. 

She knew about the murders, she knew there was a serial killer around, she already knew this already. And yes, she was petrified, as most people were. When the first body showed up, the mayor of town announced there'd be a curfew until they found out who is doing all of this. Whether it was one person or more, they'd find a way to capture the killer. No matter what. There was not going to be another murder.

 (Of course, there was more.) 

 (The original curfew was getting home at 9:30. Now, it had gone down and you'd have to be indoors, at your house, by 6:30 PM.)  Students in school would get out earlier, as well as the adults in town. The only ones who didn't get to go home so early in the day were those who were trying to protect the people of Valentine Bluffs.  "We are sorry to interrupt that song there," came the  radio host's deep and groggy voice. "However, this is more important than your favorite throwback jams. I've gotten an officer here with me, he had just shown up not even a second ago to tell us more news on the situation we are currently in. So, please, listen carefully."  "Yeah, whatever. I already know what's going on. Tell me something I don't know." (Y/N)  turns off the radio as she pulls up in her driveway, feeling a sense of comfort clouding over her, another day, she's okay; safe and sound, unlike a few of her old high school friends that were gutted like fish and butchered like pigs. 

She shivers at both the bitter and harsh wind brushing against her  as she steps out of her vehicle and the obvious visual of whatever masked man (or men) that's around, killing innocent people for whatever given reason.  Hurrying along the steps to her porch, she digs her keys out of her jacket pocket, finding them within seconds before she's pushing them into the door as quickly as she could. She didn't show it, tried not to show it, but she was as anxious and paranoid as everyone else was. 

(Y/N) was  trying to hold back her fear but the moment she gets home, locking all the doors and windows, the uneasy feelings creep up on her and every negative emotion takes charge.     With a sigh, she falls down onto the couch with a plop, reaching for the remote, she turns on the TV, attempting to try and get her mind off of things.  Of course, every station wasn't what she wanted to watch, the news replacing every channel.  She skipped and skipped but it all remained the exact same. With a groan, she decides to listen to what they were saying, even though she really didn't want to hear it as it'd only make her anxiety worse.  "I am Jonathan Godfrey. We're sorry to interrupt your daily scheduled programs, however, a man you may know as Tom Hanniger has escaped from his stay from a mental hospital."  (Y/N)'s eyes nearly budge out of her head at the mention of the man's name,  the remote she had in the palm of her hand goes flying, falling down onto the ground by her feet. Tom? Mental hospital? It didn't make any sense! Everyone... including her, thought he was dead! She, with shaky fingers, grabs the remote to turn the volume up.   Jonathan's own eyes were wide as he read the teleprompter, his voice now grew shaky as he spoke. Fear was written across both his and his co-worker’s face. "Unfortunately, we don't have any more information or news as to where he's escaped off to. Or where he may be as of the moment. All the reports, every last piece of information we have been received  has said he's been missing since two days ago.  He can be anywhere.  More importantly, he can be here, hiding out." His voice trembled as he spoke, it was also very faint - almost ghostly. Quiet as a mouse. His skin was pale, making it appear as if he was a ghost rather than a living person that sat in the chair there.  

 Jonathan couldn't continue, this much was obvious, therefore his co-host, Abigail Miller, continued where he had left off.    "This being said, please, lock the doors and windows of your home. If you have a weapon to guard your own life and protect your ground, get it out now. Please, protect yourself the very best you can. And do not, I repeat, do not answer the door. Do not leave your home whatsoever. Whatever is outside of your house is surely not more important than your life.  

“Whether it is Tom that has been doing this or not, we're not exactly sure. All we tell you is to be careful and remain indoors until we can find Tom and or find the Valentine's killer. This has been Jonathan Godfrey and Abigail Miller, with the news. Stay safe and God bless." The program that was previously playing showed up finally, the neon colors swirling together to form the title of the show, along with a fairly way too cheerful theme song playing faintly in the distance as the introduction played out. (Y/N) had never heard of it before, but from a quick glance, it appeared to be a sitcom from the late 70's.  The only source of light was coming from the television screen, casting colorful shadows across (Y/N)'s face. She had felt too tired to have turned on the lights upon entering her house. Work was short, the hours having grown thinner because of the curfew, however, it was still tiring all the same.  She instantly regretted not doing so now, however. 

She sat in the dark, her heart thumping loudly against her chest as she pulled a near by blanket around her shoulders as if the thick fabric would comfort her and protect her. The room had gotten colder ever since the report was announced. Goosebumps ran up and down (Y/N)'s body, the baby hairs on her neck stood on end as a shiver slid up and down her spine. Despite the blanket being around her body, she felt nothing but cold, numb. Suddenly, the TV went out with a soft 'ping'.    (Y/N) gasped and her heart stopped beating all together.  She felt like she couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell if she was going crazy either when she heard what sounded like  footsteps coming down from the hallway. She sat, frozen, on her couch, unable to move, unable to breathe.  Then.... a knock. Followed by another and another. It was right outside, coming from not the front entrance but the back yard. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), please..." came the voice.  ​​​​​​​And (Y/N) recognized that voice anywhere.  She knows she shouldn't.... everybody said not to but... she couldn't help herself.  Getting up as quickly as she could, she runs down the hallway, the sounds of her feet echoing against the thin walls as she reaches the door, tugging it open.   There, on the other half of the door, stood nobody other than Tom Hanniger himself.   He looked up, surprised she had answered the door.  Giving her a weak, lopsided smile,  Tom's pulling her into a tight hug, his head falling down in the crook between her shoulder and neck, tears flooding his eyes as he soaks her shirt, silently weeping. "(Y/N).... fuck, I've missed you so much, missed you so bad." Tom confesses with a sniffle.  "Tom... I- what're you doing here? They're looking for you, you know this, right? Everybody's looking for you. And.... and I- fuck, Tom! I thought you were dead. Everybody in town thought you died the day your father did." (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hide her true feelings. She was a mixture of emotions. Angry, happy, sad, scared - she was feeling every single emotion there possibly was. "I know... I know. I-I have a lot to explain and a lot to tell you but please, right now, can we just- can we just play pretend?" He asked, moving away from her shoulder as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, his eyes remained watery and his skin was flushed as he looked up at (Y/N).  (Y/N) guessed it was a mixture of three things - running away from the mental hospital to where her house was to  the bitter and harsh February air. Plus, the crying he had just done, too. His face was red and blotchy from all three. Despite it being so cold, sweat trickled his face, a few drips of it falling along side his cheeks. "Play pretend?" (Y/N) echoed, tilting her head to the side, unsure of what he meant.  "Let's play pretend." He repeated, licking his lips. "Let's play pretend and imagine none of this horrid, crazed shit is going on right now. Let's pretend it's only me and you. It's Valentine's day, isn't it? Let's celebrate. After all, it was one of our favorite days to spend together."  Heat rose to (Y/N)'s cheeks and she bit on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on the bottom of her feet.  "Tom.... I-I'm...You want-" She couldn't from sentences, her thoughts were mushing together and it was all too much for her to handle. She felt like she was going to pass out. "I want you, (Y/N). I want you as bad as I did then and I want you just as badly right  now. There has never been a day where I wasn't thinking about you. You were the love of my life. I still love you, maybe even more, now. Let's celebrate, please. We can talk about everything tomorrow morning. I promise I'll tell you everything.  Right now, let's play pretend, let's act like it's just us again, like when we were teens.... I've missed you. And.... and I know you've missed me too or else you wouldn't have opened the door." And, yeah, okay, he was right.  "Tom..."  "(Y/N)." He stepped closer to her, closer than he had done before, as he rests his hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin as he looked into her (E/C) eyes.  "I love you. I never stopped. And I know you love me, too.... so, please, baby girl.... can I just show you how much I love you?" (Y/N) shouldn't have answered the door. She should have called the cops when she heard his voice. Everything was too much of a  coincidence. 

Her power was working perfectly fine until Tom had shown up. 

Now that she was thinking about it.... 

There was also no victims until she had heard the news Tom had left the asylum. Three days ago.... 

Three days ago, there was the first victim; Maryanne.  If she thought too much about it, got too deep into the rabbit hole, she would have assumed Tom Hanniger was the Valentine's killer - The Miner.  Yet... looking at Tom, she knew he wasn't - couldn't - be the killer. If he was, he would've killed her too, right? Tom Hanniger's been through too much, and just like she was there before, she was going to be there for him now. Through Hell and back.  

She would stay by his side, no matter what. She still kept the old promise ring he had given her in high school, along with the note in which he confessed his feelings. In which, he told her - one day - he'd marry her. She was the perfect girl for him, as he was the perfect man for her.  A promise is a promise. When she said 'forever and always', she meant that. (Y/N) knew Tom meant it, too.  "I love you too."   Tom's quick to place his lips on (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) is quick to kiss him back just as hungry, just as fierce. She tangles  her fingers through her hair and pulls on it, earning a groan from Tom. Satisfied with the result, she tugs him into her house by the sleeve of his shirt, slamming the door shut with her foot. 

"I've missed you, baby." He says, not daring to pull away from the kiss.

"Show me how much you've missed me then, baby." She mumbles against his lips. "Oh, I'm going to."  "Let's go celebrate Valentine's day the right way then. Come on, let's go upstairs."   Tom grins and  (Y/N) smiles back before she's pulling him up the stairs and into her bedroom. 

Forever and Always. It was them until the end. Nobody would ever separate the two of them, again.... not even Harry Warden was going to destroy Tom’s happiness... not this time.

[supportivespaceforsurvivors]

An explanation of recent events

Hi all. I am posting a timeline of the recent events that have ended up with me inviting some of the mods I trust from @advicetotraumasurvivors to this blog. It is incomplete; as of this posting (4pm CST, August 23, 2021), nobody has admitted any wrongdoing, but I know a lot of you aren't really sure what happened at all. I apologize in advance for the verb tense shift midway through. I unfortunately don't have the spoons to edit it.

Hayden does not plan to stay with the blog. Olive plans to stay at least for now. I will likely stay. I'm not sure about Henrie or Berry at the moment. Those are the only mods that currently have access to this blog. (Edit from Mod Henrie: I’ll be staying.)

The timeline will be under the cut as it is fairly long. All times are in Central Standard Time.

Around 5:30pm CST last night, April messaged the Discord telling us she was leaving the blog. She left both the Discord and the blog shortly thereafter. We got some anons asking about why she'd left and I directed those towards her @traumasurvivors blog because I didn't feel comfortable trying to speak for her, One of them felt my answers was dismissive. That anon ended up being a mod in the Discord who was triggered by my tone. We received more asks from them, one passive-aggressive and one outright guilt-trippy.

At 7:30pm CST Henrie made an announcement that everyone who participates in the blog is a volunteer. Several mods offered in the Discord to mediate since the mod who was upset didn't feel comfortable addressing the issue with me directly.

Around 9:00pm CST we started getting some positive messages to the blog. I started to think maybe the situation had blown over. I tried to answer one of the positive anons. Tumblr gave me an error code.

We discovered the upset mod had deleted all of our inbox messages.

At 9:30pm CST Berry noticed posts were disappearing from our blog. I had noticed some weren't showing up for me, but because Tumblr is a Hellsite I figured they were there and it was just a glitch. Even the pinned post got deleted.

I panicked and asked what if the Carrd got deleted. Unfortunately, whoever the mod was, saw that and changed the email and password to the Carrd.

At 9:36pm I started adding Henrie, Hayden, Berry, and Olive to this side blog. This ended up taking several hours because we were all disoriented and triggered pretty badly by then.

At 9:45 pm I noticed they deleted my mod tag. We kept trying to encourage them to stop. Henrie reblogged all the asks that were still there to their personal in case they got deleted.

At 9:55pm I left the server and asked Berry to invite me to the new one they said they'd make so the handful of us could discuss the situation while feeling a bit more safe. There's a gap of about 20 minutes in the timeline here but I'm not sure anything super important happened during it.

Olive rescues most of the info from the Carrd by 10:21pm. April offers to transcribe the pinned post that I managed to screenshot on my phone.

Hayden makes a post around this time saying we've moved URLs. The upset mod deletes it.

I ask April if she will write down the URLs of all of our followers on advicetotraumasurvivors and send asks to them one by one to let them know what's going on. An extremely inefficient method, but at this point I'm at a loss. Henrie starts sending the asks to our followers. April finishes transcribing the pinned post at about 10:30.

At this point I have taken my sleep med and am losing reading comprehension rapidly. I say I'm going to bed but end up not sleeping until something like 4am.

At 10:31 Olive discovers that the upset mod has password-protected the blog. Henrie copy pastes the only ask in the inbox. It came in after the others were deleted.

At 11pm Olive announces she has a download/export of the blog in progress to hopefully preserve some of the posts and information on it. I ask April to boost the new URL. Henrie asks Tumblr's customer service system about uploading the file to the new blog.

At 11:10 Berry notices the queue is being messed with. Several mods go back and forth with the saboteur mod changing how often the queue posts. I suggest that we reblog ask games to the new blog so people can get to know us better once this all dies down.

At 11:21 Hayden announces the blog title has been changed to DON'T TALK TO US. A few minutes later Olive says some extremely tasteless tags are being added to queued posts, including the r slur and the n word. We won't go to any more detail about any of the other things that were said because they were extremely triggering, but we are deeply sorry to any followers (and mods) that may have seen those tags.

11: 38pm: Henrie makes posts on both blogs saying it's not us typing these awful things and to block advicetotraumasurvivors.

11:40pm: We decide to delete all the posts on the blog and the whole queue. April starts mass deleting.

11:53pm: I screenshot all the asks in the drafts. We delete all the drafts. The upset mod continues to change the blog title to triggering and inflammatory things.

1am today (Monday): Henrie asks if it's okay to announce to the original server that we moved discords and blogs. I ask if we can avoid adding people to the new discord until we know who the mod is that's upset. We eventually agree to hold off on adding people into the new discord.

2:44am: April gets an anon apologizing for their poor/inflammatory actions on her traumasurvivors blog and posts a response separate from the ask. We wait, hoping that the anon will message April.

3am: We get a similar apology on the new blog. It gets screenshotted and sent the new Discord so everyone can see it. I delete the ask from the inbox with everyone's permission because it feels very guilt trippy to me.

3:23 April gets more anons blaming her for the situation spiraling out of control, presumably from the upset mod.

12:22pm: April has more anons when we all wake up. All of us in the new server agree that we're tired and just want the situation resolved. No one comes forward.

Edit from mod Henrie: This is a timeline of all of the “major events”, but it doesn’t convey how frantic we all were. We were all feverishly working on deleting triggering tags/deleting posts/trying to find out who was doing this/etc. in between each of these times. It was chaotic and messy and incredibly exhausting for everyone involved.

[hydroponicjj]

no place like home

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: you get kicked out of your house and have nowhere to go. you want to tough it out on your own but your boyfriend won’t let you.

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of abuse, alcohol, swearing

a/n: i’m back!!! wrote this instead of studying for my spanish midterm oops. hope that you all enjoy and make sure you send requests!

                    「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You were good at hiding your emotions.

This wasn’t something that you were appreciative of, you were ashamed. You wish that you could express how you genuinely feel without being terrified that someone would take advantage of your vulnerability.

But that’s just how life works when you grow up in a toxic household, with a mother that isn’t the friendliest.

“Y/N?” Peter spoke, causing you to return from your trance.

“If you aren’t going to take this seriously then you can just leave.” He puffed, flipping back and forth between pages, searching for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

The two of you were currently studying for your midterms in Peter’s room. He was sitting at his desk, books sprawled everywhere while you sat on the carpeted floor, back pressed up against the wall.

“I can’t find the answer to question 32, did you?” He asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.” You replied, weakly.

Peter huffed as he flipped the pages aggressively.

“What is it?”

“It’s just-” He hesitated, “I don’t understand why you come over here every day and just sit there and do nothing.”

You felt a pinch in your heart as he let out his frustrations, “I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing!” Peter struck his fist down on his desk, causing you to recoil.

He noticed how you inched away from him, “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” You took a deep breath, “I’ve been in my head a lot lately and I haven’t been the girlfriend that you need right now.”

“Not to mention I’ve been a terrible study buddy.” You laughed, Peter smirked.

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I scared you.” He was disappointed in himself. For a split second, he forgot about how sensitive you are.

“How about we take a little break? We can go out and get something to eat and maybe watch an episode of The Office?” You suggested as you stood up.

“I’m in work mode right now,” Peter watched your face for any signs of disappointment.

You nodded, glancing at the clock, noticing the time, “I should get moving before my parents notice that I’ve been gone this long.”

You bent down and began to place all the science and math textbooks into your bookbag.

“You should spend the night. May won’t mind, she loves having you over.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured but, Peter didn’t look satisfied.

“Hey, hey,” Grabbing his arms, you wrapped them around your waist, placing your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, I promise.”

You stood in each other’s embrace for a few moments, finding harmony in each other’s presence.

Peter’s mind is always going 100 miles per hour, especially right now with the stress of midterms and having to make time to patrol the city. The both of you were dealing with stress and being able to have a few seconds of tranquility made all the difference.

“I’ve gotta go.” He released you from his clutch.

“Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.”

“I love you.” He beamed.

“I love you.”

--

Sneaking into your house is way harder than sneaking out. Having to avoid not only your parents but your loud dog that gets super excited when she sees you.

Throwing your bag on your bed, you climbed through your window, careful not to slip on any of the toys scattered on the floor.

Everything had been calculated so that your mother and father would eat dinner while your dog begged at their feet, so you come out of your room and claim that you had been taking a nap.

But not everything goes according to plan. Your parents never let the dog out of your room so, she was lying in your bed instead of on her own. She felt your bag hit the bed and shot up, beginning to bark.

“No, no, no!”

It was pointless trying to get her to stop because you could hear the harsh footsteps on the way to your room.

Your mom stood in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. The tension increased by a tenfold. Your confident stature depleted with every second that passed.

“You know, if I’m going to pay for this room, I expect it’s going to be used, right?”

“Yes,” You’d learned that she’ll make it easier if you agree and don’t antagonize her.

“So, when you’re not in here, it tells me you aren’t using it.” She spoke, malice laced within her voice, “Do you want to live here?”

“Yes.” You responded.

Your mother nodded her head, “If you sneak out again, I’ll see that you don’t have a room to come home to.” She sent you a passive-aggressive smile and slammed your door.

You let out a sigh of relief, even though she just threatened to kick you out if you snuck out to see Peter again. The exchange had gone better than most nights, presumably because it was too early for her to drink.

Flopping on your bed next to your dog, you let her give you a couple of kisses before pulling your phone out of your back pocket and sending Peter a message.

You: Hey! I’ve made it home.

Peter: Great. Still studying :(

You: Keep pushing!! I’ll make sure that I help next time

Peter: Any problems?

You: Nope :)

Peter: Good.

Peter: Wanna retry this study date tomorrow at 6:30?

You: Yep, see you then <3

“Shit.” You huffed.

--

You were asking to get thrown out. Here it was, 6:00 pm, and you were crawling out of your window as if your mother didn’t threaten you with eviction less than 24 hours ago.

As you strolled toward the Parker’s apartment, you thought of how your foolproof plan could go wrong. Would your dog bark again, or would your mom be waiting in your room as soon as you arrived?

“Hey,” Turning your head, you saw none other than Peter Parker send you his alluring smile.

“W-What are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyebrows contorted in confusion.

Pulling his hands from behind his back, he displayed 3 bags of food, “I was picking up our dinner for tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“I thought we could scrap the whole studying idea and have dinner with May.” He revealed.

You tried your best to control your facial expressions and body language, not wanting to give Peter any signal that this would raise a problem.

“Sounds good.” You nodded.

“I’m so glad that we’re able to do this before I patrol. It puts me in a good mood before I go-”

“Kick some ass?” You interjected.

“Somethin’ like that.”

The rest of the walk to Peter’s apartment was filled with stories of the peculiar things that he would see while patrolling the city at night. Weird things that people tried to steal and the extravagant costumes people wore.

“A nightgown?” You asked as you entered his apartment.

“A nightgown,” Peter confirmed as he took your jacket, hanging it on the rack mere feet away from the entrance.

“Hey, Y/N!” May greeted, waving at you from the kitchen.

“Hey, May! So nice to see you again.” She emerged from the kitchen and gave you a small hug before turning her attention towards her nephew.

He handed her a receipt, and the placed the bags on the dining table, “Let’s eat.”

“So, Y/N, how’s school going? Someone has been studying like crazy.”

“School is going well. I think people are stressed with midterms, but I can’t wait until things get back to normal.” You explained, putting food onto your plate.

The conversation flowed nicely. It was easy to talk to Peter’s aunt because she was so understanding and non-judgmental, she had become more of a mother towards you than your actual parent.

“I guess it’s true that time passes faster when you’re having fun,” Peter spoke.

You looked at the clock, it was almost 9:45. It was at least a 30-minute walk back to your house

“Oh my. I’m sorry to rush out like this but, I have to get home before-” You paused, not wanting to say anything that would worry Peter or May, “This was fun we’ve gotta do this again.”

“Soon.” May smiled, watching as you grabbed your coat, frantically.

“I love you, Peter. I’ll text you when I get home.” With that, you exited the Parker’s apartment and rushed out of the building.

There was no way that your absence went unnoticed by your mother, now that she’s on high alert of you sneaking out. You had completely forgotten about checking the time. There was something about the Parker’s that made your problems seem so minuscule to the point where you didn’t even think about them.

With every step you took, the pit in your stomach increased in size. Whatever destiny you had waiting for you at home, you didn’t want it. You wished that you could turn around and go back to Peter’s apartment and exchange funny stories with him and his aunt.

But you can’t outrun fate.

When you reached your window, you were faced with 3 black trash bags and a note, “I warned you.”

“Fuck,” You sobbed, “She fucking kicked me out.”

You always knew that your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best but, you loved her and you assumed that she loved you too. You didn’t even want to imagine what feelings she harbored towards you if she could throw you out with ease.

You opened the bags and saw your clothes, materials for school, and a few miscellaneous things. There was no way that you could carry all of this stuff, it was way too heavy and you didn’t own a car.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” You heard someone say from the roof.

The first thing you noticed was the colors red and black and knew exactly who it was, “What are you doing here?”

“Y-You rushed out of my house like we had a disease or something, I knew something was wrong.” He explained.

You couldn’t see under his mask but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was confused, “What’s all this?”

“Pete, I think I’m in trouble.” You croaked, your eyes were red and blurry from crying.

He came down from the roof and instantly embraced you in a hug. You let a sob escape your throat as he held you, “Why didn’t you just call me? We could’ve figured something out.”

You sighed, “I’m not your responsibility. Plus, you have all of this stress on you and-”

“Did you think that I’d turn you away or something?” He questioned, taking off the mask covering his face so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Look at me,” Peter gently took your face in his hands, “I know that you grew up thinking that you are a burden but you’re not.”

“Do you remember when I was distant from everyone for months after Uncle Ben?”

You nodded.

“You were the person that restored me to normal. No one asked you to but you did, remember that?”

“Yeah,” You sighed, resting your face in his palm.

“We’ll figure this out together.” Peter reassured, caressing the back of your head as he pulled you into yet another hug.

“Together?”

“Together.”

[lilchibi-chan]

Officer Sawamura x Reader

Art by Suyohara

This has been living in my head absolutely rent free, so I decided to come up with a HC

At the moment, your neighborhood has been the victim to a string of break-ins. Nobody has been injured or severely hurt, but police have been stationed and there is a curfew of 9 pm. 

Tonight, you had to work late, so you knew that would get home way past curfew. You didn’t wanna go through the hassle of showing your ID and what house you were going to, but it would give you a chance to speak to the very handsome police officer that patrolled your neighborhood from four to midnight. 

He had been there for a couple weeks by this point, but you would always sneak a glance at him when you could. Even greet him with a wave when you see him, but you never spoke to him up close.

Once you finally make it home, it’s 11 and you see him standing outside of his car stretching. You start watching him, analyzing every muscle and flex.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a male voice.

“You okay, miss,” he asks, snapping you out of your daze

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you say nervously as the large man towers over you

You look up and see the very officer, you had been admiring

“That’s good then,” he says with a laugh,”Anything I can help you with tonight?”

“N-no, just trying to head home,” you say pointing in the direction of your house

“I’m gonna need to just see your ID then and you should be on your way,” he says with a warm smile and comforting eyes

You rustle around in your purse for your wallet to take out your ID for him. You hand over the ID and you two brush hands for a moment. His hands were warm.

“Nice picture. Even mine doesn’t look this good,” he says as soon as he gets your ID

“Thanks”

He scans the rest of your ID and hands it back to you.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” he says smiling,”Have a good rest of your night Ms. Y/L/N”

“Thanks, you too Officer...”

“Sawamura”

You walk away and head to your house. He watches after you until you’re out of his line of sight. 

Once you enter your home, you lean back on your door, smile and bite your lip.

‘Sawamura’ you think to yourself

You head to your bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.

In the morning, you wake up around 6:45 to start getting ready for work. You head to the bathroom and take your shower, wash your face and brush your teeth and all the while, you think about Officer Sawamura. You think about how tall he is, his eyes and how sweet they were.

You bite your lip, then smile. 

You finish getting ready at around 7:30 and eat some breakfast. You finish around 8:15 and wash your dishes, so you come home to an empty sink.

You make it to work on time and your best friend greets you.

“Hey girl, you look amazing today”

You smile

“Thanks”

“You dressed up for any special reason”

“Yeah. My mom set up a bling date with one of her friends sons,” you say rolling your eyes

You weren’t in a rush to get married and you didn’t really feel pressured to date. You always felt that it would happen naturally and grow over time. For now, you focused on your job because it’s something you love and are passionate about.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t bring you down too much. How about we go to lunch together this afternoon? That way you can keep your mind off tonight and we can have some girl chat,” your best friend says

“Sure,” you laugh,“sounds great!”

“Alright, well I’ll let you get to it and you can meet me in the lobby at 12:30”

“Sounds like a plan!” you say excitedly

You do the work you could get done before lunch and head to the elevator at 12:15 since you work on a high floor in the building.

You get to the lobby at 12:20 and wait for your friend to arrive. They come down five minutes behind you and headed out to a nearby cafe you frequented together.

You were sitting down enjoying your lunch, when the door to the cafe opened and you heard the bell ring, causing you to turn your attention towards the door. Your eyes open wide at who just came in. Officer Sawamura.

He was with a friend that had shining, grey hair and dark grey eyes. He looked just as good in plain clothes as he did in his police uniform. You caught yourself staring and bring yourself back to earth. When you look back at your best friend, they’re smirking at you.

“So who’s that ma’am” they ask still smirking

“Well ya know how I have curfew in my neighborhood cause of the break ins that have been happening. He’s one of the police officers that’s on duty when I get home” you say trying to hide yourself

“Well why don’t you say hi to him”

“I don’t wanna bother him, especially since he’s with a friend”

“If you don’t say anything, I will. He is fine” your best friend says laughing

Daichi hears your laughter which causes him to look towards your direction. As you’re laughing, you turn towards his direction and you both lock eyes.

He starts walking towards you and you get extremely nervous.

“He’s walking over. Why is he walking over,” you say frantically

“Cause he’s coming to say hello like a normal person. Stop being weird”

“Hey Ms. Y/L/N”

“Hello Officer Sawamura”

“I’m off the clock, please call me Daichi”

“Are you sure”

“Yes, I’m positive” he says with a warm smile

“Okay, then call me Y/N”

“Okay...Y/N, it’s nice to see you. You look really beautiful today”

“Thank you,” you say blushing

“Special plans or just cause”

“They’re plans, but they’re not special. My mom set me up on a date and-”

“Do you two want a minute” your best friend says

“Yeah seems like we’re third wheeling here, Daichi” the grey haired boy says

“I’m sorry, this is Y/BSF/N” you say introducing her to Daichi and his friend

“Nice to meet you, this is Sugawara” Daichi says in response

“Hey, nice to meet you both” Sugawara says with a bright smile

“Would you like to join us” you ask

“Y/N, We actually have to get back soon, our break is almost over,” your best friend says

You look at the time and you’re shocked. It didn’t even feel like time had went that fast.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize,” you say frowning

“It’s okay, we actually have to head back too. We just came to grab a quick bite,” Daichi says,“but uh don’t be too late tonight Y/N, I might have to write you up” he says with a smile

You let out a small laugh

“Yes sir” you say saluting him

You all say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

You sit at your desk and just wait for 6 o’clock to arrive, so you can get this date over with.

You were meeting the guy at a restaurant not too far from your job’s building, so you decided to walk there.

Once you get to the restaurant, you look around and see him sitting at a table by himself. You and him had been texting before hand because he thought it would be awkward if you just met up. You knew him, but you barely ever spoke prior to him texting you.

You walk over and greet him.

“Hey Kuroo,” you say with a smile,”It’s been a while”

“Yeah, it has. You look beautiful tonight. I mean you are a beautiful in general, but tonight you look-”

“Thank you, Kuroo,” you say laughing,”You look really handsome tonight”

You go to pull out your chair, but Kuroo rushes up and pulls it out for you.

“Wow, what a gentlemen” you say teasing, but in a nice way

“Yeah, I try” he says laughing and brushing off his shoulder, joking back

‘Maybe, this isn’t gonna be so bad,’ you think to yourself

For the rest of the date, you and Kuroo basically play catch up because you haven’t spoken since you moved in middle school. The date went surprisingly well and you were open to see if anything could come of this. You liked the idea of new beginnings and open to doing new things.

You and Kuroo walk out of the restaurant together and slowly walk up the block. It was currently 9 o’clock which means you will be get home after curfew. You didn’t mind at all because even though your conversations have been brief, you like talking to Daichi and he seems really genuine.

Kuroo suddenly stops and grabs your hand. You turn to face him and look down at your hands.

“S-sorry, I uh just wanted to know if you wanted a ride home. It’s kinda late and my mom would have my head,” he says shyly

You look at your phone again and it’s 9:15. You figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially since it’s so late.

“Sure, Kuroo. That’s really nice of you”

“Well, I’ve always been a nice person”

You let out a small laugh as he opens the door for you to get in the car.

“Comfortable?” he asks bending down to your level

“Yeah. Thank you”

“No problem,” he says before closing the door, making sure all your limbs and belongings are in the car. 

He makes his way to the other side and enters the car.

You make it to your neighborhood at 10:30 and Kuroo gets out the car to open the door for you.

“Thanks for tonight, Kuroo. I actually had a better time than I thought I would,” you say honestly

“I’m glad, I was really hoping I wouldn’t come off as a jerk or something,” he says relieved

“No,” you say laughing,”it was actually quite the opposite. I even liked your little rambles about chemistry.”

“Really?! Girls are usually put off by that,” he confesses

“I enjoyed it very much. I’d much rather see the real you than get the phony, trying to impress me, you”

You start walking away from the car, then Kuroo speaks up.

“Would it be okay if I walked you? It doesn’t have to be all the way. I’m just not ready to say goodbye yet.”

You smile

“It’s fine Kuroo. Let’s go”

You and Kuroo start walking into your neighborhood and Daichi is there, as usual.

“I thought I told you not to be late tonight,” he says jokingly

“I’m a big girl Dai-I mean officer Sawamura” you say joking back

“Wow Daichi-san, it’s been a while and you’re a police officer. That’s quite a noble profession, when done by the right people and you’re a real noble guy, so”

“Thanks Kuroo, it’s nice to see you too” he says smiling

“Wait, you two know each other” you ask shocked

“In high school, we played against each other on different volleyball teams. We had a great rivalry and even became friends,” Daichi answers

“Wow, so you guys go way back,” you say surprised

“Yeah, it’s nice seeing you again Kuroo,” Daichi says with a smile

“You too,” Kuroo says smiling,“Y/N, seeing as you have Daichi here protecting your neighborhood, I feel like it’s safe you to get home. Have a good night”

He hugs you and you hug back.

“Thanks again, Kuroo”

“Anytime. Hopefully I get to see you soon Y/N”

You and Daichi watch as Kuroo walked to his car. Once he gets there, you turn and face Daichi. You notice a glint in his eye, but can’t make out what it is.

Daichi turns his attention to you, his eyes still filled with warmth.

“So, it went well huh?”

“Surprisingly, yes” you say with a soft smile

“You gonna see him again?”

“Maybe, I don’t know...this whole dating thing is still new to me. I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and even then, we didn’t really go on that many dates. I’m looking forward to see where it goes though. I’m open to new experiences.”

“Well, that’s a good outlook to have. It’s very attractive,” he says smiling at you

You blush, not knowing how to react.

“Uhh thank you,” you say nervously

He let out a small laugh

“Have a good night, Y/N”

“Y-you too, officer Sawamura”

He watches as you walk away and smiles to himself. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this first part of my new series. I will still be doing siren song, so don’t worry for those who are waiting or looking forward to it. I’m working on about a bagillion things behind the scenes for this blog, so please be patient. I love you all and thanks so much for the support 💖

[cryinginthebackseat]

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.”

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.  

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

                                                         fin.

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