#it keeps happening earlier and earlier every year

[firewasabeast]

Can you please do a hurt/comfort Eddie + Tommy friendship with Bucktommy - Tommy gets hurt in some way (mentally/physically/sick/etc) and Eddie helps him until Buck can get there

you gave me a reason to finish the fic I started earlier today! thank you!

His teeth were chattering. Had been since he woke up after hitting the ground.

He didn't hurt anywhere, which was never a good sign.

He laid there, surrounded by trees. Cold, wet leaves underneath his body. He could hear crickets and frogs all around him. Could smell smoke somewhere nearby.

There were distinct sounds of metal creaking mixed in with nature.

Slowly, he moved his head to the right, then to the left.

Fire.

It was about fifty yards away. Thankfully, due to the recent rain, the fire was contained to the helicopter that had so gracefully fallen out of the sky.

He wasn't sure how he ended up so far from it. Had no memory of being ejected or jumping or whatever happened that made it so he wasn't inside those flames.

He lifted his hands to his face, could barely see them as the sun set below the trees. He was sure there was blood. Dirt, mud, leaves, and blood.

They shook so fiercely he wasn't sure how he had any control over them at all.

His breathing was labored, heart beating rapidly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to calm himself down.

Suddenly, in the distance, he heard something.

People talking.

Not just people, familiar people.

Family.

“H- Here,” he barely managed to get out, figuring they'd be running toward the fire instead of him. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Here! I'm here!”

The talking stopped, then there was running.

He could feel the pounding of the footsteps as they approached.

“Hey, we gotcha, Buddy!”

“Howie?”

“Yeah, it's me. Saving your ass, once again.”

Hands were on him now. Lights shining in his eyes, causing him to squint. He could hear others talking. Hen, Eddie, Bobby. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

Chimney had him focus on him. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“T- Tommy,” he answered. God, he wished he could stop shaking. He couldn't barely get out a word.

“Year?”

“2024.”

“Best paramedic you know?”

“Hen,” Tommy replied, choking out a laugh.

“Hey now!” Chimney exclaimed, mocking offense.

“I knew I liked you,” Hen said with a smile. She patted him on the shoulder before getting back to work.

Chimney chomped on his gum a couple times before asking his next question. “Can you wiggle your toes for me, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head. He lifted his arm, tried to pull Chimney closer to him so he could whisper. “I c- can't feel anything,” he paused, sucked in a shaky breath, “b- below my waist.” He knew what this meant, and he also knew he was in shock. The adrenaline pumping through him was the only thing keeping him remotely alert.

Chimney nodded, sharing a glance with Hen. “Cervical collar for our dashing pilot here, please, Hen.”

“Already on it.”

“Ho- Howie?”

“Yeah, Buddy?”

“Ev- Evan?”

“Buck went home early today,” Eddie answered, moving into Chimney's place so he could do whatever work needed to be done. “Chief is cracking down on overtime, so he had to be sent home.”

“We've... We've been sa- saving f- for the wedding,” he explained, although he wasn't sure why. Everyone there already knew that.

Eddie took Tommy's hand and wrapped it up in his own. “You were probably already up in the air when Buck sent you the text complaining about being sent home.”

“He'd say... He'd say th- the chief didn't want us t- to have the good hors d'oeuvres.”

Eddie nodded, tried putting on a smile. “He did mention that on his way out.”

Tommy squeezed Eddie's hand. “We m- might have to re... reschedule.” His lip trembled at the thought, tears welling in his eyes. Evan was so excited for the wedding. Had been working diligently and meticulously on every detail since they got engaged in October. He wanted a winter wedding, and didn't want to wait another whole year, so February it would be. With it being December now, Tommy didn't see any way he'd be able to fully recover by then.

If he did at all.

“Let's not worry about that right now, alright, Man? I don't think Buck will care when the wedding is, as long as there is one. Let's focus on that, okay?”

Tommy nodded. Blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.

A few fell anyway.

“Ed- Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I... Do I still have my legs?”

“You certainly do, Kinard,” Bobby interrupted. Tommy wasn't sure how long the captain had been on his other side. Bobby gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You've got all your limbs right where they should be. You ready to move now, Kid?”

Tommy could've laughed at the nickname. He'd been called that by Bobby a couple of times, many years ago. It'd been a long while since then.

He nodded. “Ready.”

Eddie didn't let go of his hand as they lifted him and began carrying him to the ambulance. Tommy was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever being moved onto the spine board. Hadn't felt a thing.

A part of him had wondered if they'd even been working on him during that time. That maybe Eddie was the chosen distraction until he drifted off and his breathing stopped.

He was glad to know he was wrong.

*****

Bobby drove them to the hospital, with Eddie staying in the back beside him. It was a bit cramped with him, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen all back there together, but the fact he was surrounded by these people made him feel a bit more comforted.

Tommy looked over to where his and Eddie's hands were still tightly gripped together. He wasn't sure if Eddie was refusing to let him go, or if he was refusing to let Eddie go. Didn't really matter either way. He needed something to keep him tethered to reality.

He shook his wrist back and forth a few times to get Eddie's attention. “Can you... Can you call Evan? Please?”

“Of course,” Eddie replied, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.

“You've got some cuts on your arms, Tommy,” Hen explained as Eddie pressed Buck's name. “We're gonna work on those on the way to the hospital, so you might feel some stings, okay?”

“Yeah. That's okay.”

Eddie put the phone on speaker and Buck answered on the third ring. “What's wrong?”

“Buck-”

“Who is it, Eddie? I just left work an hour ago. Is it Bobby? Hen? Chim?”

Tommy took a deep breath. “B- Baby.”

Silence.

Then.

“Tommy? Is that you?”

“Had a... a little accident.”

“What hospital?”

“The usual,” Eddie replied.

“I'm heading there now.”

“Evan? Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, wanting to get his attention before he got in the car and started to drive.

“I'm here, Tommy,” he answered. “I'm gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“I don't wanna... wanna scare you,” Tommy said, and he could feel the tears burning his eyes again. “I can't. I can't feel my legs.”

“He's stabilized,” Chimney added quickly, before Buck could ask. “Likely a lower spinal cord injury.”

Another pause, followed by a quiet. “Okay. Okay.”

“He's doing well, Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “We're all right here with him. He won't shut up about you, like always.”

Tommy smiled. He hoped Evan did as well.

“Feeling's mutual,” Buck replied. His voice was softer now. Tommy knew the words were meant to keep him focused and thinking positively.

It worked.

“Need you t- to be safe.”

“I will, Baby. I'll drive safe and I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. L- Love you.”

“I love you, too. So damn much, T- Tommy.”

Tommy wasn't sure who hung up first, but he could tell by the way Evan's voice wavered at the end that he was probably close to falling apart.

“Thank you,” Tommy said as Eddie put his phone back into his pocket.

“Whatever you need, Bud, I'm here.”

“Just... Just keep ho- holding my hand.”

Eddie nodded, squeezed a little tighter. “I can do that.”

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘

[justjudethoughts]

In Defense of Peter Pevensie. Originally written in response to accusations of Peter being "less complex" than other Narnia characters

If King Lune is the embodiment of masculinity as father, then Peter is the embodiment of masculinity brother. As High King, he becomes the brother of his people, but those seeds were sown in his own family. 

From the very beginning of the story Peter is the leader of the Pevensie children, a job he evidently takes very seriously. But, unlike a lot of eldest siblings, he doesn’t use his status and power as a means to swagger around and lord it over the others. Quite the opposite, actually. It is immediately clear that one of Peter’s main functions in the Pevensie family is cheerleader of his siblings. This is shown not only in his open praise of their talents (for example, he hypes up Susan’s talent of archery in PC and cheers on Lucy for having been right after none of them believed her), but also generally tries to keep them in high spirits. 

Take the context of LWW. The Pevensies are sent to the countryside because of air raids. They are going into a strange house with a strange man because the Germans are obliterating everything the children have ever known or called home. All of them are scared, Edmund’s bullying Lucy, and Lucy may or may not be going insane. But Peter can’t show any of them that fear, because he’s the oldest. They can’t know he’s scared, so he puts a bold face on it. One of the first things he says in LWW is “We’ve landed on our feet and no mistake” when he looks at the big house. He argues they are going to have a delightful summer after all. The next day, when the others are disheartened by the rain, he suggests they explore the house.

As the years go on, Peter earns the title “Magnificent.” In this, Peter truly embodies the  JPII quote, “the ultimate test of your greatness is the way you treat every human being.” He has a bleeding heart for the least of these, but in an unassuming, humble way. Peter is not a man of pomp and circumstance. He has a servant’s heart, perhaps most evident in PC. 

Upon returning to Narnia and learning of Caspian’s plight, he immediately makes it known that he has no intention of replacing Caspian. “I haven’t come to take your place, but to put you in it” is among the first things he says to his new friend. This isn’t about winning fame or glory or reliving the old days. This is about making right what was wrong. 

He is generous with the Narnia creatures, even when they are a bit silly. When trying to pick a Marshall, he suggests the Giant Wimbleweather. Caspian warns him that the giant isn’t very smart, to which Peter responds, “Of course not. But any giant looks impressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up.” Part of his reasoning is simply the injured feelings of poor Wimbleweather who earlier entirely messed up an important battle.  The following conversation also takes place while they are searching for a Marshall. Reepicheep offers his assistance:

"I am afraid it would not do," said Peter very gravely. "Some humans are afraid of mice——"

"I had observed it, Sire," said Reepicheep.

"And it would not be quite fair to Miraz," Peter continued, "to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage."

Instead of embarrass and insult Reepicheep by explaining that he is far too small and unassuming for such a job, he appeals rather to humans' fear of mice. Even while battle prepping, his is concerned about the hearts of his people. Bulgy Bear, too, he allows to be a Marshall, as it is the right of bears, no matter how silly they are. 

Peter understands that duty means doing what is right, regardless of how it makes you feel. His first battle happens because Susan and Lucy are being chased by the wolves. When he hears Susan’s horn, he runs to help her. The book says, “Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.” His sisters needed him. And so he showed up. The same is true in PC, when he engages Miraz in single combat. Edmund asks if he can beat Miraz. Peter responds that he is fighting to find out. He goes in completely unsure that he is ever going to see his family again, but he does it anyway. Because Narnia needs him. Caspian needs him. His people need him. And his feelings aren’t the deciding factor. 

When he makes mistakes, he owns up to them. In LWW, when the children plead before Aslan on Edmund’s behalf, Peter blames himself for being too hard on Edmund. In PC, when they finally see Aslan, he apologizes for having led them wrong the whole time. He is always trying to do his very best and falling short like the rest of us. But he accepts his fault with humility, gets back up and tries again. 

By the Last Battle, we get to see Peter in his truest form. Even though he has been in England for years, when the seven friends see what looks like a ghost, he is the one who stands up and orders it to speak. Clad in his suspenders and button-down shirt, Peter is once more High King. “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he says, "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King." And when night falls on Narnia for the last time it is Peter, once so scared to speak to Aslan (and even attempted to make Susan do it for him) that shuts the door. It is Peter that jests with Lucy when she weeps for Narnia, trying to lighten the mood. It is Peter that she turns to, time and time again, with her questions. It is Peter that Lucy, and all of the other friends of Narnia, trust to lead them. 

It is also Peter, who, “shortly and gravely” tells Tirian about the fall of Susan. Because he has to. Because here he is, once again, the eldest, the leader. Here he is once again faced with the unpleasant task of shouldering the burden for others. But he won’t make Edmund or Lucy explain (in fact, they don’t say anything about Susan). Peter takes that pain for them, forces himself to form words. Perhaps, deep down, he blames himself. He always was a bleeding heart. 

There are so many other things I didn’t include. I could talk about how Peter immediately offers to help Tumnus, simply because he did the decent thing and didn’t kidnap Lucy. Or his beautiful, redeemed relationship with Edmund. I could talk about all the times he is a rock for Susan, or his steady leadership despite his own hesitation. But really and truly, my point amounts to this: Peter is a brother. He is steady and humble and down to earth. He is brave. He is chivalrous and courteous and overflowing with affirmation for those he loves. He is a servant heart. 

When I think of Peter, I think of carpentry and the honesty of working with your hands. I think of campfires and a night sky full of stars, and the feeling of warm flannel. I think of laughter and 19th century books for boys, and tomes upon tomes of Latin. I think of warm drinks, hot cocoa or coffee or tea, and the safety of home. It is home I think of most of all. 

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[ducktracy]

are you anti "sour-puss" daffy? that characterization of him is the primary one in my head. like duck amuck is epitome of daffy in my mind.

CRACKS KNUCKLES SO LOUDLY THEY EXPLODE. i’m giving my “HEADS UP THIS WILL LIKELY BE EXHAUSTIVE” warning now because i love love love love love love love love any chance to talk and analyze and pontificate about the duck. TLDR: YES AND NO

SO. i don’t consider myself “anti sour-puss” so much as i would consider my stance “if Daffy has to be more egocentric and miserly than he usually is then i prefer a very specific set of circumstances for this to be the case”. i have warmed up to the Jones and Freleng duck of the ‘50s onward CONSIDERABLY in recent years—there was a point where i just refused to touch any Daffy short made after a certain point because i knew it would make me frustrated and sad and mad and that’s, respectfully, ridiculous!

it took me watching the Speedy and Daffy cartoons to realize that Daffy in THOSE shorts is what i thought Daffy was in the Jones and Freleng shorts. it dwindles a bit over time (compare how he behaves in The Hunting Trilogy to something like Ali-Baba Bunny, which is a short i still have yet to come around to for that reason—i don’t like the “MINE MINE MINE GO GO GO DOWN DOWN DOWN” duck very much and my issue was that i thought he behaved that way in every single cartoon after a certain point which is thankfully incorrect!), but there’s still some nuance. by the time we’re getting to shorts where Daffy is saying “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO STARVE ON MY PROPERTY” is when i fully throw in the towel lol

another thing that’s helped me warm up is the realization that Daffy’s personality change is not nearly as objective as it’s made out to be. he has always had an ego, he’s always been reckless, impulsive, and yes, this absolutely includes the ‘30s shorts! Chuck’s Duck is Chuck’s Duck from day one with the line “not bad for a guy that never took a lesson in his life!”.

Scalp Trouble has Daffy on an ego trip fancying himself as an army general (and there is a legitimate, honest to god small dick metaphor joke in that short because he has this huge giant sword sheath that is indiscreetly phallic in design, only to reveal a tiny little dagger), ordering people around and essentially LARPing in this role we immediately know is way too big for him. and when it comes time to battle, what does he do but spend the majority of his time cowering in a corner.

he’s always had these traits! maybe they’re a bit more primitive earlier on, some other traits are a greater priority. but Drip-Along Daffy is one of my favorite Chuck Jones shorts because it’s basically a sequel to The Great Piggy Bank Robbery. and you could argue the same with Duck Dodgers! all shorts have him fantasizing about a hero role that is clearly too big for him to fill, and he is absolutely getting the biggest kick out of assuming this role. Drip-Along is still early enough to also have this sort of innocence and unflappability (that may more accurately be described as delusion or ignorance): when Daffy gets no reception whatsoever in the bar, instead of screaming at everyone to look at him, he just marches to the next order of business and indulges in his next part of his fantasy. this NEVER would have happened had the short come out 5-10 years after when it did.

likewise, the Daffy of the ‘50s and ‘60s is still insane, it’s just a different manifestation of how that’s the case. earlier on, he’s a bit more visibly unhinged. his HOOHOOHOOing fits are a catharsis that you can just FEEL crawling up his throat and dying to get out, and in the really early shorts you can see this sort of half and half battle between cognizance and succumbing to insanity (The Daffy Doc and Porky’s Last Stand especially come to mind). it’s an insanity that relieves itself through sheer manic catharsis. as time goes on, he matures a bit, he knows how to keep better wraps on it; the manners in which he gratifies his impulses just shifts.

and also, Daffy can still very much be a sourpuss early on! Bob McKimson’s Daffy, whose interpretation is very integral in my sort of mental default of who Daffy is, can be very bitter and cynical in particular! or, again, early shorts like The Daffy Doc or Scalp Trouble where he’s more argumentative and his ego is clearly much more tender.

the seeds of what Daffy would become have all been planted, and so that’s allowed me to bristle a bit less and lower my haunches. and i am making more progress in coming around to the later shorts! i’ve been on a Chuck Jones kick recently and been watching lots of Chuck Jones Daffy shorts and enjoying them. i love Drip-Along, Duck Dodgers, Duck Amuck, Deduce You Say, Robin Hood Daffy—i’ve even come around to Rabbit Seasoning which is kind of NUTS to me because there was awhile where i was acting like Bugs and Daffy shorts killed my firstborn. “pronoun trouble” is an inside joke with my friend and dear lord i laugh every time at Daffy’s reactions to Elmer falling for Bugs’ drag act, and the ENDING!!!! omg. i love it. i’ve come around to Beanstalk Bunny as well! it’s a great short!! in getting to know the duck better and understanding how nuanced his development is, i’ve gone a bit softer which is good.

i was just chatting about this recently—i think most of the thorns in my side come from the Daffy and Bugs pair-ups. what i like best and get most out of each character, i get none of when they’re together. i’d rather see Bugs behaving and doing something else, and the same for Daffy. i’m not opposed to a sourpuss Daffy so much as i really don’t like seeing him suffer. i feel like the Bugs and Daffy shorts “punch down” a bit more on him, and i still haven’t found a way to really properly articulate this… i’ll just copy and paste what i was saying the other day here:

Daffy earlier on has all the traits above we talked about, but the difference is that he isn’t really shamed for them outright? of course we’re meant to laugh at his cowardice as he says “go… back… in again….” to the giant towering rat gangster he screamed at to confront him, we’re of course supposed to laugh at the asininity and selfishness of him dodging the draft and taking the Little Man From the Draft Board down with him by locking him in a safe and suffocating him. Daffy isn’t exactly meant to be a role model (but that still doesn’t stop me from finding his bombasm and exuberance and zest for life extremely empowering!), but there’s less narrative pushback against it. seeing Daffy be Daffy and have every action be interrupted by another character rolling their eyes going “oh brother” is where i have a problem, it just sucks the air out of the room for me. especially when Daffy is made to feel ashamed or beaten down for this as well. that’s why i enjoy shorts like Beanstalk Bunny or Drip-Along so much, ending with stuff like “it’s a living!” or being contented in his new position that is often very degrading and a direct consequence of his impulsiveness. a huge part of Daffy’s charm for me is his resilience (even if that equates to ignorance at times), if he wants something he will go to absolutely asinine lengths to get it! and i love that! his drive is so admirable! and i just feel like after awhile that resilience is lost. the issue isn’t that Daffy is a loser, as he’s lost quite a bit before that—moreso, he doesn’t have that good humor about being a loser anymore

I’M ALMOST DONE I PROMISE. but my tags in that video post, as i said in them, i watched The Million Hare the other day which is a short i very much dislike. and it’s not really out of anger or “UUUURGH NOT MY DAFFY”, but moreso it just makes me SO. DAMN. DEPRESSED.

this is the most soul sucking image i’ve ever seen. i get genuinely sad that the cartoons have devolved to starting with “characters watching TV because they’re too bored to do anything, and Bugs just joins him”. no part of this is the resilient, impulsive, manic, pleasure seeking duck that carried us through the past few decades. and this certainly doesn’t represent the wily, impish, inciting rabbit of the past few decades either! Bugs has a greater excuse since i know there’s the pattern of his domestication and Jones’ rule of Bugs minding his own business before being provoked, etc. but man. this image just represents all of my problems with the later shorts and dynamics. the characters are hollow and so are the stories and the directors are checked out or moving onto greater things, and i think all of that just coagulates and manifests in the characters.

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE I CAN SAY but i’m finally realizing i’ve gone on way way way too long and don’t even know if i answered the question all that well LOL. don’t even get me started on “modern”interpretations of Daffy… [starts ranting about how TLTS killed my family for the 80th time as i’m gently lured into the nursing home].

BUT! to answer your question! i’m not really opposed to a more cynical and conceited duck because those traits have always been there, just in varying degrees of intensity. my ideal duck is definitely one locked in the ‘40s—Frank Tashlin and Bob Clampett’s Daffy have always been my favorite, but i’ve sort of adopted a coagulation of Art Davis, Bob McKimson, Norm McCabe and Friz Freleng’s duck as my mental default. i am extremely protective and loving and fanatical of Daffy, i love him more than any cartoon character and i resonate with him more than any cartoon character! i bet he too would also spend an hour typing up a diatribe on his character evolution and how he’s been sorely misrepresented. maybe. Daffy is one of the most varied characters of all time, and it’s really hard to pin him down for this reason. i like a duck that best has a bit of a balance between his traits, and i get more chafed when he’s made more narrow and transparent and just “flanderized” (for lack of a better word) to one or two tropes that then speak louder than his character. i prefer shorts that are more sympathetic and celebratory of Daffy rather than admiring how funny he is as a loser. which, he is funny! but IUNNO. i like a more upbeat and resilient and charming duck, and he can be all of these things later on, but it unfortunately does get fleeting

[tkachuktkaching]

Matthew Tkachuk: Memories of Johnny Gaudreau ‘Will Go On Forever’

Tkachuk spoke Wednesday about the death of his longtime friend and former teammate, calling Gaudreau "the most offensively talented player I've ever seen." Gaudreau and his brother, Matthew, were killed on Aug. 29 when police said they were struck by a suspected drunken driver while they were riding bicycles on a rural road in New Jersey.

"It was such an honor to play with him," Tkachuk said at Florida's media day, the first formal event of the new season for the Panthers as they prepare to open their defense of the Stanley Cup.

"And you guys all saw what he did on the ice. I was the lucky one out of everybody in this room to have a great relationship with him off. So those are the memories I will take. But it's been terrible. It really has."

Tkachuk was one of many in the hockey world who attended the services for the Gaudreau brothers earlier this month. He said he constantly has been thinking about Johnny Gaudreau's wife, Meredith, their children who lost their father and the parents who lost their sons.

"I think everybody has an amazing job of telling stories and keeping him present, because that's exactly what he would want is for us to smile about him and tell the fun stories about what a great player and teammate he was -- and a better guy," Tkachuk said. "My memory of him will go on forever."

“Of all the great things that happened this summer,’’ Tkachuk said, “it’s almost overshadowed by what has happened over the past couple of weeks. It has been a terrible time. It really has. It is the saddest thing I have ever seen or heard. I was able to go to the service which just breaks your heart.

“Johnny is one of my favorite teammates I ever played with. But he was more than a teammate to me: He’s such a great friend. It doesn’t matter if you knew them, or played against them, or even if you have a sibling, everyone can relate to this. It has been terrible. You’ll always carry something around, he will always be with me."

“He is the most offensively talented player I have ever seen. It was such an honor to play with him. You guys all saw what he did on the ice. I was the lucky one in this room who had a great relationship with him off of the ice. Those are the memories I will take, but it has been terrible. It really has been.”

“My memories will last forever, but I can’t stop thinking about his parents, about Meredith and the kids,’’ Tkachuk said.

“It was a very tough time at the wake and at the funeral; it has been a tough few weeks. But I think everyone has done an amazing job of telling stories and keeping him present because that is exactly what he would want, for us to smile about him and tell fun stories about what a great player and teammate he was. But he was a better guy. So, his memory will go on forever. My memories will go on forever.

“I feel like, last year, I was telling a Johnny story to someone every week. So, I am going to continue to do that.’’

[hqmillioncorn]

heal up the world,

I cant let anyone else get involved its my fault that mom and dad even found babycorn if i hadnt talked with mom so much when i meet her again none of this would have happened! How could I have been so stupid? I have to find her i have to (Excerpt from Butter's personal Diary)

Lalapril 4/8: Soul with @windupnamazu's Butter.

Butter has a mysterious visitor in the middle of the night

It had been about a month now since Butter’s parents had come back into his life and it had been almost more than a week since they disappeared off the face of the world, taking Babycorn with them.

His mother had pretty much told them to their faces everything that she planned to do. The one thing she wanted most in the world was to go home, to her real family, the place she actually belonged.

Obviously it didn’t matter who she hurt along the way. That was what worried Butter the most.

The way both his parents had casually just tossed him and Pancake aside. All those years they spent waiting for them to come back, had they just been wasting their time?

Waiting for someone that didn’t even want them? Where did they even belong now?

Not only that, they were putting Babycorn in grave danger.

Once Butter had found out from Tilika that whatever his parents planned to do could end up killing Babycorn, he had gone and put everything he could into finding her.

There was a point where Butter had convinced himself that this was something he needed to take care of on his own. While he did think this, it wasn’t stopping anyone else from looking alongside him.

Lunya in particular was worried about him but Butter assured her that he was doing fine, despite everything. The only thing that mattered was finding his parents and stopping them.

Today and yesterday were particularly hard days. Butter hadn’t slept since the day before, because there had been a tip that came in from Coerthas. He traveled all the way there to investigate himself.

Though, the furthest he got was entering Gridania. As it turned out Lunya was way ahead of him. ‘No you don't! We can take care of this! You go and get some rest!’ She urged him. Lunya assured him that she and Tsuna were going to search for any signs of his parents in Coerthas. ‘I know it’ll be hard but just try your best. If I let you pass out like that-Pancake would have my head!!’

Butter knew Lunya only wanted the best for him but resting was easier said than done. At this point he had been lying down on the bed of inside his inn room for what felt like hours. He didn’t know what time it was, the only thing he knew was that it was nighttime.

Butter sighed and sat up, he grabbed his sword and walked over to open the door to his room.

If he couldn’t get to sleep then maybe a walk would help him clear his head.

There was something about Gridania at night that felt oddly calming.

There weren’t too many people out and given just how much Butter had been running around crowds lately it was a nice change of pace. That wasn’t stopping him from looking around more than usual, for any sign that either his parents or Babycorn had been here.

Butter stopped in front of Apkallu falls. There was something strange about it that Butter couldn’t quite place. It looked like there was someone standing in front of him. Someone who looked like they were almost see-through.

He rubbed his eyes. Could he have been more tired than he thought?

“Hey. Who’s there?”

As Butter walked closer he could feel heart beginning to race. The mysterious figure in front of him turned to look at him, so he must have got their attention. At least, that’s what it looked like.

The closer that Butter walked closer to the figure, the more clearly he could see them.

Until…

Butter froze. A chill traveled up his spine.

“Babycorn…”

It was definitely her. Plain as day.

Babycorn’s hair was down and she was wearing a plain white dress. It almost looked like she was glowing but that couldn’t be possible. Butter was too stunned to speak, to do anything.

Babycorn walked closer and closer to Butter until she was standing right in front of him. Her eyes widened as she smiled wide, “Butts!” There was a slight crack to her voice. As if she was holding something back.

At the sound of Babycorn’s voice, Butter was able to finally gather his thoughts. “Babycorn! Did you escape?! How did you-?! Where were you?!” Butter tried to reach out and embrace her in a tight hug, only to find himself going right through her.

Almost like she was nothing more than thin air.

Butter looked down at his hands and then back at Babycorn. “What are you doing?” He was almost scared to hear the answer.

“I’m just projecting myself to you!” Babycorn waved her hand, “It’s a neato little trick I figured out!” Honestly it felt like she was discovering new things she could do almost every other week. “I already visited Cherrypit so I wanted to see you next! Sorry if I scared you.”

“No that’s okay…” Butter was still trying to wrap his head around what Babycorn had said.

It was clear to him that Babycorn had seen better days. There were dark circles under her eyes that no doubt matched his own. He had no idea what was happening to her but he knew he needed to find his parents and put a stop to it. “Babycorn, can you tell me where my parents are hiding? So we can come help you!”

Babycorn’s smile slowly faded, though not for long. Her smile was strained and her movements were very easily betraying the facade she was trying to put on. “I…can’t tell you. Because I have no idea.” Babycorn explained that all she knew about where she was being held captive was that it was dark and she could see small plants growing from the ground.

That could honestly be anywhere.

Butter looked absolutely dejected. This was probably their best shot so far and to see it crash and burn so easily was absolutely agonizing. “I’m sorry…” Butter said, trying not to break down in front of her. He didn’t want her to lose hope. Just like he was slowly starting to.

“It’s okay!” Babycorn tried to place her hand over Butter’s shoulder. Butter could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “I know you and everyone are gonna come and help me really soon! So I’m not too scared!”

Butter also couldn’t help but notice that Babycorn’s ears were pointed more downward than they usually were.

“It was easier to talk with Cherry before but I don’t have a lot of time right now so I stopped time for an itty bitty so we can talk more!”

Her voice also sounded a lot more tired than usual. He had heard her sound like this before, back when she first woke up in Old Sharlayan. But that was then and this was now.

Wait.

“The…You…WHAT?!”

Butter looked all around them. Everything still looked the same but now that he looked closer he could notice a few leaves floating in mid-air and in a pond about eight fulms away a duck was sitting almost perfectly still. Butter looked back at Babycorn and twirled a piece of his solid hair between his fingers. He giggled, trying to cover his embarrassment with his other hand. “Wow…You really stopped time for me…” He was beyond flattered.

“Oh course!” Babycorn brought her hands together, her face had a slight tint of pink. “I think I only had enough energy to talk with Cherry but I really wanted to talk to you so I had to find a way to do it…”

Butter was shocked out of his yearning at what Babycorn had just said. “Wait-?! Energy?! Babycorn don’t tell me…” Now that he looked at her more closely Butter could tell that something wasn’t right with her. It almost felt like Babycorn was flickering in and out of existence.

“You…” Butter didn’t even want to say it. “You aren’t using your powers to do this are you?”

Babycorn laughed and stuck her tongue out. “Ha ha! Guiltyyyy~!”

“Babycorn! You shouldn’t-! You can’t-!” Butter didn’t know Babycorn could do this and at this point he didn’t care.

If what Tilika said in her letter was true then the more Babycorn used her powers the more she was at risk of being killed. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to do this?! I don’t want you to…to…”

“Butts don’t worry it's okay!” Babycorn tried to wave his very valid concerns aside but judging from his face it was clear she wasn’t doing a very good job. “I promise I’m okay! It’s like I told Cherry once-stopping the flow of time is…” Babycorn paused, it looked like her eyes were following something Butter couldn’t see. “…it’s easy.”

“What are you talking about?!” Butter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nothing about what Babycorn was doing looked or sounded easy to him. The whole world around them was stopped in its tracks. Somehow Babycorn had just plucked both of them out of time’s continuing flow and Butter was just supposed to think that was easy?!

“Easy!” Babycorn grinned from ear to ear, posing with two fingers close to her eye. “I promise! I’m doing okay! I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I wasn’t! Your mom and dad made me use my powers earlier yeah but…they’re doing something else right now so I get a break! Hehe!”

Butter didn’t know what to say. There was a part of him that just wanted to apologize for everything. Another wanted to yell at his parents for what they were doing, not that either would do any good now.

“I actually wanted to come and ask you something.”

“Huh?”

There was a bright green glow coming off from Babycorn, then out from her hands a familiar necklace appeared. Butter recognized it immediately.

“I promise this won’t take long! I’ll let you go in a second!” Babycorn laughed.

Butter desperately wanted to tell her that he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

Babycorn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With a slight movement of her hand, something that Butter could only describe as some sort of crystal window manifested in front of them. “Woah…” There was something about it that grabbed his attention, he could see his own reflection in it but there was something off about it.

He didn’t look like he expected to look.

“Groovy isn’t it?!” Babycorn’s voice was peepy and joyful, this was something she had been working on for a long time. She’d done things like this before but never on this large of a scale.

While Butter was busy looking at what she did, she quickly wiped some sweat from her forehead. As carefree as she was acting this was taking a toll on her, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

Babycorn walked closer to the window and placed her hand on it. When she did, a ripple echoed through the entire thing as an image slowly faded into view. Butter could slowly make out more things besides himself. First he could recognize a bright blue sky, then the green grass below. Very soon, the home he grew up in was in clear view, alongside that he could see Pancake, Cinnamon and

his mom and dad.

“W-What…?” What was he even looking at?

Suddenly his reflection moved, without him doing anything. Butter took a step back in shock as he watched his own reflection run over to where his parents stood. Their mouths were moving but Butter couldn’t hear anything that was being said. He stared in silence as he watched what looked like his mom hug Pancake and then hug him.

“It’s a perfect world! A world where everything turns out right!” Babycorn grinned, “I had a lot of trouble making it so Cinnamon still existed but I managed it! Aren’t you proud?!”

Butter looked at Babycorn, her smile was somewhat unsettling. “Are you saying that-you made this?” For someone to make a whole other world…? Was something like that even possible?

“You betcha!” Babycorn stood proudly, raising a fist in her air. A gesture that was done very cutely by the way. Though as much as Babycorn was proud of herself she had to admit something first. “Well the truth is I haven’t made it yet. Right now it's sorta like the thing someone does before doing something…?” It had a name but it always slipped her mind. Mostly because she tended to never do it.

“Do you mean a plan?”

“Oh yeah! That’s it! It’s a plan!” Babycorn looked at Butter like he was the coolest guy in the world. “You’re way too smart Butts!”

Butter laughed just a little. “If you say so…”

“My plan…” Babycorn eyes shined a bright yellow, as the image in the mirror became clearer. “…I could rewrite the world. With Cherry’s help I could make a world where everything is better and you and Pancake are happy with your parents! Your mom wouldn’t be from another world and she would love you and want to stay here! Everything would be perfect!”

Butter didn’t like this.

“It would all be so much better! I think I did a great job!” Babycorn happily explained, with a wide smile on her face. All she wanted was for Butter to be happy, to be safe, and content. For completely normal reasons of course.

“Babycorn that’s…” He didn’t know what to say.

“Of course…I might not survive making the world.” Babycorn’s smile never wavered. “It might end up killing me. But that’s okay right?!”

Without even a second thought, Butter rushed up to Babycorn, grabbing her hands. Somehow he was able to hold them in his. Even Babycorn was surprised he had managed to do that.

Butter looked up at Babycorn with tears in his eyes. She was taken aback at just how angry he looked. This was not at all how she was expecting to react. “No! No! That’s not alright! What are you talking about?!” Butter cried out, “Don’t even joke about doing something like that!!” The image in the mirror started to fade out of reality.

“W-What are you talking about…?!” Babycorn raised her voice as high as she could, “Isn’t that what would make you happy?!”

“No! Not at all! I could never be happy in a world that didn’t have you in it!!”

The mirror started to crack.

“If you do this…If you do this…I…” Butter struggled to even understand why Babycorn would even consider doing this for him. “I…IF YOU DIE THEN…!!! I’LL JUST KILL MYSELF!!!”

“HUH?! HUH?! HUH?! HUH?! HUUUUUUUUUUUUUH?!?!”

The perfect world that Babycorn had created shattered into pieces. It had to, there’s no possible world out there where she wanted Butter to die himself. He couldn’t! He had to stay safe! There was no way she could live or die in a world without h-

Babycorn’s image flickered. She took her hands and held them up to her cheeks. “I…I’m sorry Butter! I didn’t think…” Tears were coming down her eyes. A leaf shook in the wind. “I thought I could solve it…I thought I could solve everything…” Babycorn fell to her knees and continued to apologize.

Butter wasted no time in kneeling right next to her. He was surprised when he found he could still touch her. “Babycorn it’s okay…! I didn’t mean to scare you but you scared me too…” He placed his hand on her’s. “I would never want my happiness to come at a cost to yours. No matter what.” He looked right at her, he needed Babycorn to understand this.

“…I’m sorry about your parents.” Babycorn whispered. “I think they’re stupid for wanting to leave.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re going to find me right?”

Butter nodded. “I promise.”

The sound of the waterfall behind them began to get louder and louder. Butter found it harder to hold Babycorn’s hands.

“Butter…I just wanted you to be happy.”

Babycorn mouthed something to Butter but at this point there was no sound coming from her and then the very next second, she was gone.

As if she had never even been there in the first place. A small leaf landed on Butter’s empty hands as he stared at where Babycorn had been just a few seconds ago.

As time continued to move forward Butter stayed right where he was. If only for a minute or two, hoping that somehow Babycorn would come back. Someway, somehow. Butter waited for so long it wasn’t long until he had fallen fast asleep.

Babycorn tried her best to send Butter the nicest breeze she could.

[coloursofaparadox]

im still not over the sleep thing one sec i gotta rant about this shit

[tmae3114]

you know, one would think that being myself a person who’s brain occasionally just refuses to work socially, resulting in many occasions when friends have had to wait weeks or even months for a response from me, and thus knowing from personal experience that this is simply a thing that happens sometimes, would make my own brain, which experiences this, less likely to immediately slam the THEY’RE DEAD OR DYING button every time a friend takes longer than usual to respond to a text

[mayspicer]

Mmm nothing like a good old full blown panic attack, I haven't had one in years. This time at least I have access to medication to make it stop a lot faster, but I have 6 pills left for the next 2,5 months and the recent trends in my mental state are not looking good.

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[sreegs]

I reblogged it earlier but I'm glad the Something Awful Forums 9/11 thread was archived because it's an incredibly important slice of internet history. For the record I think 9/11 was thousands of personal tragedies for the direct victims of the attacks but one big national farce that led to America's ongoing slide into fascism, and the nationalism and remembrance around it is a joke especially in the wake of the same amount of deaths every fucking day in the US during the height of coronavirus.

Nevertheless I think it's important that if you do not remember because you were too young or just didn't exist on Sept 11, 2001 to read the Something Awful 9/11 forums to get an idea of what the internet was like at the moment when America changed to 24 hour news cycles and renewed hyper-nationalism not seen since WWII.

This all happened before Twitter, Facebook, before Discord. Before smart phones. Before most people had cell phones. When a lot of people still had dial-up internet, even. Some people in the thread were relying on radio because internet and TV weren't keeping up.

It was a live event of internet denizens reacting to the biggest national event (and among the biggest international events) of the past 25 years. It was also a slice of what the internet was like at the turn of the millennium. Not only that, but people accurately calling out who was responsible, and what would result before the attacks even finished.

Keep in mind that the links that follow contain images of the event, lots of Islamophobia, people calling for the Middle East to be nuked, people blaming Palestine, casual racist and homophobic language (this was Something Awful after all), etc etc. They preserved the first 17 pages which spanned about 24 hours during the events. It's the origin of the "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR" screenshot.

Links under the fold. I've also annotated the pages with notes regarding the timeline and any posts of interest. Note the thread was preserved in Pacific Time even though the page says times are Eastern. That's incorrect. Post timestamps are 3 hours behind Eastern Time, which is the time zone where the attacks occurred:

Page 1 - Note the first post was edited to include images of the second attack. The thread started after the first plane hit. Second plane hitting the WTC happens here too.

Page 2 - Poster accurately calling out Bin Laden was responsible at 9:14 AM EST

Page 3 - "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR"

Page 4

Page 5 - First official acknowledgement it was a terrorist attack.

Page 6 - Pentagon hit

Page 7

Page 8

Page 9 - Commercial flights grounded by FAA (Federal Aviation Administration)

Page 10 - First mention of towers collapsing at end of page

Page 11 - More reactions to collapse of first tower. People thinking it was a bomb or yet another plane. Rumors about a fourth plane just missing the White House (these are false and predate the actual 4th plane crash by minutes)

Page 12

Page 13 - By this point there's just rampant speculation about more bombs at the WTC, the US Capitol building being hit, etc (all false). Remember this is all just people reacting to TV news and radio and the rumor mill via phone, AIM, IRC, and maybe text messages.

Page 14 - By this point internet news sites are overwhelmed

Page 15 - Second tower collapses. First acknowledgement of the fourth plane that crashed in PA.

Page 16 - There's an abrupt time jump in the threads, I think it was the result of admins pruning the activity or the SA forums going down. This page starts on 9/12 even though it is page 16. American flag signatures and ribbons start appearing.

Page 17

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, somnophilia, unconsciousnes due to drinking

fem reader

Thinking about a love-sick but scummy Gojo and his cute kohai—how you don’t usually drink and how he has to carry you to his dorm when you start to hang on the walls of the graduation party. It’s been his last year, and he can’t believe he won’t be able to see your pretty face every day moving forward.

“This is fine, right?” he asks softly, laying you down on his bed. His breath thickens while looking down at you—so cute—all sound asleep.

You really shouldn’t be a sorcerer. Curses and curse users and other sorcerers the like would only take advantage—they’d all want a piece. You’re a little silly, aren’t you? You know that he can’t always be there to look after you, right? Oh, they’d eat you alive without his help, you know that, don’t you?

He’d kill anything, anyone, and everyone if something ever happened to your cute little face.

He straddles you, lifting your skirt carefully—so slow and silently, in reverence—like he’s lifting a wedding veil, uncovering your cute cotton undies. His tall form sags forward at the sight—blushy cheeks dusted with dew, looking down at you with half-mast misty eyes.

So cute, so cute, so cute. He should give you his babies. That would keep you home and out of harm’s way—soft and safe behind lock and key and a thousand seals, both keeping others out and you in. Oh fuck—what a good idea. You’d look so right all round with his kid.

He’s already pealing down your underwear. Bearing your pretty little cunt to his searing blue eyes—gleamingly bright with want.

So so so cute!

His pale and slender fingers can’t help but reach out and touch at once—though carefully—sliding his fingertips through your slit.

 “Aw~ you’re so wet~” he awes in endeared glee, already catching your hole and slipping one of his digits in. He all but cries over how snug you are. He knew you were a virgin, but to toy with it in grasp, to feel it wrap around his finger all so tightly, was almost too much for him to handle. 

“You were acting so shy earlier—so coy,” he continues. “But my six-eyes saw it anyway, plain as day…” Pumping you on his digit, he watches you curl in your drunken sleep—a pretty little moan leaving you all so softly. It makes him giggle with delight. “You’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[landojpg04]

MDNI slight suggestive and language

Ghost definitely has a motorcycle and a truck. He'll drive the truck when he knows it'll be a long day doing intel and paperwork. But especially on a Friday when the workload is light, he’ll come in on his bike knowing he’ll be able to enjoy the ride.

He started riding the bike more when you gave the comment-

Guys who ride motorcycles are ten times more attractive with their bike

You didn’t say it to him per se but rather to a friend of yours on base, and he overheard. He likes to think that the bike is his good luck charm, as you agreed to a first date when he drove it. But despite you loving the bike as much as you loved him, he never let you on it. Always exclaiming it would be too dangerous.

He's in the garage, music playing lightly from the speaker as he cleans and messes with some of the gears. You watch in awe at the door. Never in a million years did you think you would be here. In Lt’s old t-shirt, sipping tea and watching him indulge in normalcy on a Sunday afternoon. When you transferred to the base, you always heard rumors about the man behind the mask and the name Ghost. But behind that was this man full of love.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” He said, looking up from the bike to see you.

“Just admiring.” You said.

“The bike or the rider?” He said smirking.

You admired and mirrored that smirk. Something you thought you would never see in your lifetime. But after trials of trust, the mask and guards came down, bearing all the luggage, and past to your welcoming arms. 

“Both,” you said, walking over to him. He was seated on a chair and leaned back to welcome you in between his legs. 

He peered up, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight that peaked through the window.

“Let me ride.” You said, peering down.

“You can ride me anytime.” He said, being cheeky.

You groaned at his antics and pouted towards him.

“Do you not trust me on your precious baby, Si?”

He looked between you and the bike. It wasn’t that he didn't trust you. He knows how dangerous riding is. He doesn’t want to let you on just in case something happens. He’s come to terms with something happening to him a long time ago. But you. He just got you and would put you in a bubble if it meant keeping you safe. 

“I trust you. I just don't trust others.” He says, moving a piece of hair from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw. He guided you to his lips for a quick peck.

You leave your forehead on him while he moves his hands down to your hips.

He can tell you were annoyed with your answers. You guys bonded over this bike and he truly believes that being able to ride it one day was the only thing keeping you around.

That was far from the truth. You just wanted to straddle something other than Simons's dick.

He stood up and moved you to the side.

He pushed the brake down and moved to the back of the bike.

"We can start with basics. Posture and positions." He said looking at you.

Stunned by his answer and quick change in answers, you didn't move till he said, "Ok, I guess you don't want to." You feet quickly moved to stand by him.

He went through the basics, teaching you how to mount and where to keep your feet. After, it was your turn to demonstrate your understanding. You go to the side and lift a leg to straddle the seat.

Simon from the back saw how you were a natural at this. Your ass is plump on the seat you lean to hold the handles with a slight arch in your back. Simon thought to himself why he hadn't let you do this earlier. He was so caught up in how good you look he didn't even hear you ask him if what you were doing was good.

You looked over to see him in a daze. He quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo of you on his bike, clad in his boxers and old t-shirt; every inch of you screamed that you were his. And he never loved anything more than this moment right now.

He walked to the front of the bike.

"Is this alright Si?" You asked him when you finally are met with his face.

He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you.

"My gorgeous girl on my bike," He said in between kisses.

You giggled and removed your hands from the handles to his neck and shoulder.

"Get off the bike and get inside right now." He said, pulling away. Laughing, you got off and felt a slight smack hit your ass. This was definitely not your last time on his bike.

[reasonsforhope]

"Many people know about the Yellowstone wolf miracle. After wolves were reintroduced to the national park in the mid-1990s, streamside bushes that had been grazed to stubble by out-of-control elk populations started bouncing back. Streambank erosion decreased. Creatures such as songbirds that favor greenery along creeks returned. Nearby aspens flourished.

While there is debate about how much of this stemmed from the wolves shrinking the elk population and how much was a subtle shift in elk behavior, the overall change was dramatic. People were captivated by the idea that a single charismatic predator’s return could ripple through an entire ecosystem. The result was trumpeted in publications such as National Geographic.

But have you heard about the sea otters and the salt marshes? Probably not.

It turns out these sleek coastal mammals, hunted nearly to extinction for their plush pelts, can play a wolf-like role in rapidly disappearing salt marshes, according to new research. The findings highlight the transformative power of a top predator, and the potential ecosystem benefits from their return.

“It begs the question: In how many other ecosystems worldwide could the reintroduction of a former top predator yield similar benefits?” said Brian Silliman, a Duke University ecologist involved in the research.

The work focused on Elk Slough, a tidal estuary at the edge of California’s Monterey Bay. The salt marsh lining the slough’s banks has been shrinking for decades. Between 1956 and 2003, the area lost 50% of its salt marshes.

Such tidal marshes are critical to keeping shorelines from eroding into the sea, and they are in decline around the world. The damage is often blamed on a combination of human’s altering coastal water flows, rising seas and nutrient pollution that weakens the roots of marsh plants.

But in Elk Slough, a return of sea otters hinted that their earlier disappearance might have been a factor as well. As many as 300,000 sea otters once swam in the coastal waters of western North America, from Baja California north to the Aleutian Islands. But a fur trade begun by Europeans in the 1700s nearly wiped out the animals, reducing their numbers to just a few thousand by the early 1900s. Southern sea otters, which lived on the California coast, were thought to be extinct until a handful were found in the early 1900s.

In the late 1900s, conservation organizations and government agencies embarked on an effort to revive the southern sea otters, which remain protected under the Endangered Species Act. In Monterey Bay, the Monterey Bay Aquarium selected Elk Slough as a prime place to release orphaned young sea otters taken in by the aquarium.

As the otter numbers grew, the dynamics within the salt marsh changed. Between 2008 and 2018, erosion of tidal creeks in the estuary fell by around 70% as otter numbers recovered from just 11 animals to nearly 120 following a population crash tied to an intense El Niño climate cycle.

While suggestive, those results are hardly bulletproof evidence of a link between otters and erosion. Nor does it explain how that might work.

To get a more detailed picture, the researchers visited 5 small tidal creeks feeding into the main slough. At each one, they enclosed some of the marsh with fencing to keep out otters, while other spots were left open. Over three years, they monitored the diverging fates of the different patches.

The results showed that otter presence made a dramatic difference in the condition of the marsh. They also helped illuminate why this was happening. It comes down to the otters’ appetite for small burrowing crabs that live in the marsh.

Adult otters need to eat around 25% of their body weight every day to endure the cold Pacific Ocean waters, the equivalent of 20 to 25 pounds. And crabs are one of their favorite meals. After three years, crab densities were 68% higher in fenced areas beyond the reach of otters. The number of crab burrows was also higher. At the same time, marsh grasses inside the fences fared worse, with 48% less mass of leaves and stems and 15% less root mass, a critical feature for capturing sediment that could otherwise wash away, the scientists reported in late January in Nature.

The results point to the crabs as a culprit in the decline of the marshes, as they excavate their holes and feed on the plant roots. It also shows the returning otters’ potential as a marsh savior, even in the face of rising sea levels and continued pollution. In tidal creeks with high numbers of otters, creek erosion was just 5 centimeters per year, 69% lower than in creeks with fewer otters and a far cry from earlier erosion of as much as 30 centimeters per year.  

“The return of the sea otters didn’t reverse the losses, but it did slow them to a point that these systems could restabilize despite all the other pressures they are subject to,” said Brent Hughes, a biology professor at Sonoma State University and former postdoctoral researcher in Silliman’s Duke lab.

The findings raise the question of whether other coastal ecosystems might benefit from a return of top predators. The scientists note that a number of these places were once filled with such toothy creatures as bears, crocodiles, sharks, wolves, lions and dolphins. Sea otters are still largely absent along much of the West Coast.

As people wrestle to hold back the seas and revive their ailing coasts, a predator revival could offer relatively cheap and effective assistance. “It would cost millions of dollars for humans to rebuild these creek banks and restore these marshes,” Silliman said of Elk Slough. “The sea otters are stabilizing them for free in exchange for an all-you-can-eat crab feast.”"

-via Anthropocene Magazine, February 7, 2024

[san8ny]

‘HITTIN MY PHONE IS SO RIGHT !

?: You can’t seem to put an end to a salacious affair between you and your boss. However, lately with the new cameras being installed around units, it’s getting increasingly risky for you two. What’ll it be, your job or Abby’s? / A.A x Fem!Reader

!: hellurrrr.. xD haven’t proof-read this ngl bc my eyes hurt/ ALSO AN OLD DRAFT I HATE..im srry :P

“Fuckin’ hell..she’s just clamping onto me..” Abby coos from where her head is thrown back on the office chair; you, on her lap, rocking your hips deliciously into her, each snap feeling like a tidal wave of pleasure surging through Abby’s veins. You’d never in a hundred years think this would be a common event that took place between you and your employer after hours, a dirty secret that was buried deep within Abby’s Law-Firm.

“S-shitttt, don’t speak like that..” You whine, digits burying themself into Abby’s Golden locks when it seems like her pace speeds up; “Can’t when this messy cunt ‘s talking to me..” Abby takes a sharp inhale of air when you rip open the first two buttons of her blazer, scattering across the room.

“Not fair..’wanna take ‘em off..” You whine, wrapping your arms tighter around your lovers neck— soft tits pressed up into Abby’s face where she sneakily kisses around your areola, taking a nipple into her warm mouth, earning a weak huff from you.

“Shh..gotta be quiet, doll..can’t risk having you heard.” She whispers against your skin, pulling you down to press a messy kiss against your lips, “that I have ‘fuckin favorites…”; You shriek when she manages to slam you even harder on the XL strap, the one that’s tied oh-so-perfectly around her hips.

The buzzing on her desk brings her away from your lips and her attention instead, is on the lit-up phone, grabbing it with ease as she maintains a rhythm with how she bounces you, caller ID reading OWEN.

“Not this timing..” She groans, shushing your mewls once again when she takes your head and slightly angles it into her neck as an attempt to muffle your noises while she takes the call; “Get to the point.”

While she talks, you sink your teeth into her nape unexpectedly, illiciting a dirty, guttural moan from Abby to the point she almost lets the phone slip out of her grasp, “Uh..you okay?” Owen asks, confused at what was happening on the other end of the phone as he peels an orange; Abby hums at this, poorly trying to reaffirm Owen with eyes clenched closed as you leave harsh hickeys on her neck, ones she’d have to indefinitely cover up all week with series of collered pantsuits.

“P-please, ‘Abs..”You pant, saliva stretching from your quivering lips to her bruised neck. Abby pathetically caves in, murmuring mantras of ‘hear you, baby’ into the humid office air, head spinning and the call long forgotten as she throws it across the desk; her obsession with you ran deep, from the very moment you stepped into the office scene, all pencil skirts and painted lips— you were something she needed around here, and maybe the only thing that kept her hauled up in this shit-hole while all her other colleagues ran themselves into bankruptcy and alcoholism.

“I’ll give it to my sweet girl, ‘always do..ah—? S-she just needs to be ‘fuckin patient..” Abby’s breath hitching when you scrape your nailbeds across her, now, unclothed back. “You’re so—o ‘fuckin nasty..begging to fuck when they’ve installed surveillance every square inch of the damn place—love my pretty g-girl..”

“G-gna cum, pleaseee.. if you keep ‘talkin to me like t—this!” You stutter out with furrowed brows, annoyance and arousal a mixture when she picks you up and slams you directly against the desk now, a stark contrast to where you two were meekly teasing eachother earlier on her swivel chair but shit, does this angle make you take her even deeper..

After some time of her relentlessly pounding into you, and tears falling from your glossy eyes, down your full cheeks— you finally crack. This doesn’t end it, no, because after 2 orgasms ripped out of you— Abby leans down and kisses your cheek softly, her lips lingering condescendingly, “one more before we go, hm? Then we’ll clock out and i’ll take us home, baby”, all while two fingers work figure 8’s on your puffy clit, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Home?

You look at her up from heavy lidded eyes, sleep wanting to consume you completely but you oblige, mewling when Abby lowers herself to her knees and begins kitten-licking at your sensitive pussy; maybe you were obsessed with the blonde as much as she was with you, even if it could cost you both your jobs potentially one day.