#senior banging on the door and screaming at her

[bugpoasting]

the ballad of john and yoko is such an evil song (affectionate) i genuinely love it so much

[ashwhowrites]

Dungeons and Revenge

Plot- Eddie finds out the new guy in Hellfire is dating his ex girlfriend

Eddie watched intensely as he rolled his dice, along with Hellfire. The dice dinged against the table, all the boys standing up from their seats as they waited for it to land.

"THAT'S A HIT!" Eddie declared

The boys cheered as they defeated the dragon, ending the campaign for the night.

"HELL YES!" Mike cheered, high-fiving Dustin.

"Good game, boys. Until next time." Eddie said. The boys began packing up, and Eddie walked over to his newest member, Justin.

"J-man, amazing play," Eddie said, patting him on the shoulder. Justin smiled and stood up.

"Thanks, Eddie. Great campaign. It was sick to see all the dragons break apart and force us to save ourselves yet help each other."

Justin had been a member for a little over a month and Eddie hated to admit he was damn good. Not as good as Eddie though, no one ever was.

Eddie was always skeptical of letting new people join, but Justin earned his place and Eddie was starting to like him. He was a senior, a bit taller and more muscular than Eddie. Much shorter hair but just as dark, and a lighter shade of brown eyes.

The group all walked out into the parking lot, still talking about the amazing ending of the night. The conversation faded into the background when Eddie spotted a similar car in the parking lot.

"I was positive I was going to die once the monster spotted me," Dustin said, Mike added on but Eddie was still lost in staring at the parked car. He knew that car, it was hers. Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, is the girl he was still helplessly in love with.

Their relationship ended over five months ago and he still thought about her. He thought about their stupid fight, her wet eyes, and the loud bang as she slammed the door. He has barely seen her since, she did everything to avoid him. He looked for her everywhere, wanting to beg on his knees for another chance.

"Yo, Eddie you good?" Justin asked, taking Eddie out of his thoughts.

Eddie coughed and tore his eyes away, looking at the group of boys who stopped talking and were looking at him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Who needs a ride?" Eddie asked, his eyes already looking back at her car.

"Not me, my girlfriend is picking me up," Justin said with a smile. That love-sick puppy looks in his eyes. A look Eddie was familiar with, the one he always had for Y/N.

"Dude! Do you have a girlfriend? Is she hot?" Gareth asked

"We are fairly new, been seeing her for about two weeks. Made it official last night." Justin said with a smile. "And she's the prettiest girl I've ever laid my eyes on."

"What's her name?" Dustin called after him, Justin already walking into the parking lot.

"Y/N," Justin called back.

Eddie felt his blood run cold, and air stopped entering his lungs. He felt like he was suffocating. All the boys knew Y/N was a touchy subject, and they feared for Eddie's reaction.

They all watched as he walked to the familiar car. A car Eddie spent many times in, so many memories flashed through his head; their first kiss through her window, their first time having sex in the backseat, and where he admitted he loved her.

Eddie tried to fight back tears and failed. A few tears ran down his face as Justin was in the passenger seat. Eddie was thankful he couldn't see her because that would have hurt more. He watched as they drove off, no one knowing what to say.

~

Eddie slammed the trailer door behind him as he raced to his room, storming past a worried Wayne as he locked his bedroom door. He threw his bag on the ground and collapsed on his bed. He screamed into his pillow, and then the screams turned into sobs.

He ignored as Wayne knocked on his door. He couldn't believe she moved on already. He wanted her to be in the same boat as him, he wanted to be the only boy on her mind. But the cold truth showed him he was nowhere in her mind.

He wanted to call, his fingers ghosting over the phone. But then he got a better idea, make her come to him. He wiped his face with his shirt and then grabbed his backpack. He tore it open and grabbed his dnd notebook.

~~~

Eddie was a wreck but tried his best to not show it. He hated that now whenever he saw Justin it hurt, and made him think about her. But he had a plan to get his revenge, to release his anger towards Justin for going after what was his.

The boys were nervous about playing now that they knew Justin was dating Eddie's ex-girlfriend. No one told Justin and he was oblivious to the target on his back. Dustin gulped when he saw the smirk and glint in Eddie's eyes.

~

"Yikes, Justin. Looks like you got hit by Lich again!" Eddie crackled, loving the way the boy groaned.

"Let me get in the room and see if I can help," Mike said.

Justin sighed in relief, hoping the rest of the group could join him as they took turns. But his hope was lost when Lich seemed to only target him. Justin thought hard about what he should do, he raised his shield and began to battle.

The boys watched as Eddie and Justin were going head to head. Justin rolled and was successful, able to use his shield as he struck at Lich.

"Remind me your AC?" Eddie asked, a happy smile on his face as he shook the dice.

"I feel like you would remember since this is the 5th hit in 2 rounds... but it's a 17." Justin sighed, starting to get annoyed that Eddie seemed to only target his player during the whole session.

Eddie nodded, enjoying the way he got Justin riled up. He was acting out of jealousy but so what. Justin is winning in life so Eddie might as well win in the game. Eddie rolled his dice onto the table, standing up to see over his books.

"Good! I rolled an 18." He wasn't afraid to show how smug he was, sitting back down with a cocky smirk.

~

The boys were less excited as they walked out of the session, almost no one spoke. Justin was slightly fuming at Eddie but he'd never challenge the master. But that's what Eddie wanted, he wanted Justin to get in his face. Just anything to give Eddie a reason to sucker punch him right in the nose.

Eddie stayed back, knowing he couldn't stand to see Justin going to her again.

Justin sighed as he got in the car, leaning over to softly peck Y/N's lips.

"How did it go?" Y/N asked, peeling out of the parking lot.

"Ass. I could barely fight back, Eddie kept hitting me from left and right. It almost felt like he was personally attacking me." Justin ranted. He had no idea what he did to piss him off.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Eddie's actions, and a bit of anxiety settled in her stomach as she knew why.

"I don't know what I did to him," Justin added

Y/N offered a small smile and moved her hand to softly rub his thigh as she kept her eyes on the road.

"Eddie used to be a good friend of mine, let me talk to him."

~

Eddie was watching the TV, with the volume on low to not disturb Wayne, when there were a few knocks on the door.

He groaned as he stood up, walking towards the door. He slightly cracked it, and his heart sped up when he saw her.

"Y/N?"

"We need to talk," she said, her arms crossed. Eddie opened the door and she walked past him. He closed the door and followed into his bedroom.

She sat on his bed as he walked in. He wanted to take a mental image of how she looked on his bed again. He walked towards her, softly reaching out to cup her face.

She pushed his hand away, and he gulped. He could already feel himself getting emotional as he continued to look at her.

"It's been so long," he said quietly, "I've missed seeing you."

She shook her head and stood up. Walking to the other side of the room to create more space.

"Why are you being a dick to Justin? He loved being part of Hellfire! And he was really upset tonight."

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"He's whining about a game? Oh, come on, baby. It's a fucking game!" Eddie argued

"No, he's upset that you put a target on him and he has no idea why. But me? I've got a good idea why you are acting like a jackass," she fought back. Her eyes were hard but Eddie just loved having her eyes on him again.

"Why's that, sweetheart?" She wanted to smack the smirk off his face. She hated herself for how attracted she still was to him.

Ignoring the way the nicknames made her body heat up, she replied, "You found out about us and you got jealous. Which I'd like to remind you that you have no right to be jealous."

"No right?" Eddie laughed as he scoffed. "I'm fucking in love with you. Still, head over my feet for you, and you're dating some other guy!" His voice started to rise but he wasn't yelling.

"You broke up with me! Did you forget that? Did you remember that when you decided to have your pity party and take it out on a guy who seems to actually like me?" Y/N argued, she wasn't surprised by his behavior but she was surprised she'd still be dealing with it.

"I didn't BREAK UP WITH YOU!" He argued, his voice rising and rising.

"WELL YOU NEVER WENT AFTER ME!" She yelled back, throughout all the fighting they didn't notice how close they became. Their bodies were inches away, chest to chest.

"YOU TOLD ME NOT TO! I DIDN'T WANT TO KEEP SCREWING UP"

"YOU'RE ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO GO AFTER ME. BEG ME AND TELL ME YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT ME!" her voice cracked as her yelling turned into soft sobs, "but yo-ou let me leave, I waited in my car and you never came" she whimpered.

Eddie gulped as he watched the tears fall down her face. He stepped forward, closing any space they had between them. His hands cupped her wet cheeks and he bent slightly down so his eyes were level with hers.

"I wanted to follow you so badly. I wanted to walk up to you anytime I got just a second of you. I've failed many times at not listening to you and I thought I was doing what you wanted. Baby, if I knew all I had to do was run after you I would have run in a heartbeat." He said

She sniffled and tried not to melt into his hands. His touch on her skin and his body inches from hers, it's all she craved those long five months.

"You had five months, Eddie. Why now? Why now when I just started to move on?"

"I'm selfish and can't watch another person make you happy. Not when I know I can. If you want to move on, I can't stop you. But if I can offer exactly what he can, I will do it a thousand times better." He said, and before she could blink his lips pressed against hers.

She melted as his warm lips moved against hers. The similarity of the kiss made her heart flutter. She tried to fight it, her hands on his chest to push. But then his hands moved down to her waist and he pulled away, but just barely.

A broken whisper or whimper, she couldn't tell, fell from his lips and landed on hers,

"Please"

She shoved every thought away that told her it was a bad idea. And listened to the way her heart raced like it only did with him. Her actions were fast, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him as hard as she could.

They moved in perfect synchrony, their lips fit together. They clung to each other desperately, making sure the other couldn't go too far away.

They kissed until their lungs burned, begging for air. She pulled away but kept her touch on him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. If you give me another chance, I promise, I will always run after you. I'll pick you up kicking and screaming and bring you home." He pleaded.

This was the first time Y/N believed she ever saw Eddie break down and beg. He was always so damn stubborn, but now he cried and pleaded.

"What if you promise not to make me want to run away?" She joked, a tiny laugh leaving her lips. Eddie softly chuckled, sniffling.

"Anything you want and need," he said, softly kissing her lips again.

"What the hell do I tell Justin?" She asked

"I'll write it into the camping," Eddie joked, loving when she swatted at his chest.

Forgiveness is a long road and he was ready to walk it all.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[hatchetfield-bang]

It's here!! The 2024 Teams Roster!!

Wow! Our most popular year so far, and our most successful first check-in/claims! We also had a very successful beta claims for the first time ever!!! Without further ado, get excited for the teams of the 2024 Hatchetfield Bang!!!

Love Runs Blue Author: Amanda/Calc Artist: Arran/Wiz Artist: Jade

For as long as my heart beats, our love shall fill it Author: Arthur Artist: Crypt Beta: Cami/Mike

Double Trouble Author: Love Artist: Kostya Artist: Axel

My Imaginary Friend, the Horror Author: Hayley Artist: Apollo/Pax Artist: Indigo

A Budding Conspiracy Author: Ash Artist: Artsy Artist: Oli

Sleazy Grown-Ups Must Die Author: Nab Artist: Jude Artist: Noodle

Little Briar Rose Author: Cal Artist: Teddy Beta: Pamela

Save The Town, Save The World Author: Felix Artist: Banana Bread Artist: Myth Beta: Lou

The God Of Friendship Author: Cas Artist: Grape/Kai Artist: Chloe Beta: Lou

when everything gets heavy, i've learned to travel light Author: Dragon Artist: Lo Artist: Teddy Beta: Lou

Ziria Author: Rats Artist: Noodle Artist: Jade Beta: Andi

She Walks Among the Stars Author: Dylbo Artist: Maddy Artist: Temmie Beta: Feather

Abstinence Camp Continued Author: Myth Artist: Ricky

Let's Do The Timewarp Again Author: Feather Artist: Kaz Artist: Nico Beta: Violet

Flash, Bang, Jane Author: Amanda/Calc Artist: Chloé Beta: Charlotte

Learning to Love Again (For the First Time) Author: Dylbo Artist: Finn Beta: Lucy

2003 Author: Love Artist: Tere Artist: Storm

Hallowed be thy name Author: Frog Artist: Olly Beta: Feather

The Senior Shriek Author: Felix Artist: Jasper Artist: Achilles Beta: Violet

Bleeding Memories Author: Ash Artist: Chloe Beta: Andi

Transfer My Tragedy Author: Felix Artist: Maddy

Grace Rips Off A Carrie Author: Ember Artist: Myth

Branches of the Willow Author: Nick Li Artist: Dan Beta: Temmie

leaning over us in icy stars Author: Rats Artist: Ace Artist: Ash

Reflections Author: Megan Artist: Domo

innocence died screaming, honey (i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door) Author: Scott Artist: Olly Beta: Feather

How Far We've Come Author: Nier Artist: Morgan

Sweetheart Author: Grape/Kai Artist: Maddy Beta: Violet

The Hatchetfield Games Author: Charlotte Artist: Achilles Beta: Cami/Mike

i'll never let you go (take me back) Author: Ali Artist: Green Beta: Charlotte

Alice Woodward Must Die Author: Emmelie Artist: Silver Beta: Love

The Hatchetfield Poets Department Author: Charlotte Artist: Andi Beta: Love

NPMD Among Us AU Author: Andi Artist: Ren Artist: Emmett

Nothing means everything (to me) Author: Frog Artist: Amy

dead kids (where do they go?) Author: Em Artist: Cass Artist: Ace

and the bible didn't mention us (not even once) Author: Amy Artist: Storm Beta: Love

Only Hers Author: Abi Artist: Marc

[letsgetrowdy43]

Prologue— we're just getting started

Au Master list

This is an eventual Mark Estapa x Reader story, very much a slow-burn romance

It started with intense nausea, waves of sickness rolling over her for moments at a time and it ended with her pacing around the bathroom of the Umich hockey senior house with the pregnancy test sitting on the counter, the timer for three minutes set as she watched the countdown begin. Second, by second her stomach dropped with each tick of the clock.

Her roommates had been a little too overbearing as of late due to her 'sickness', so sure this little illness was the result of a largely regretted hookup with her best friend, meaning that taking this test in the comfort of her apartment wasn't an option right now. Instead, she hid away from the world in a bathroom that reeked of axe body spray and had dirty clothes all over the floor.

None of this was in her life plan, it wasn't write-in her five-year plan that she promised a naive and younger version of herself. This scenario was written in the stars, fate running through her veins as she stared from the count down back at the test.

All of the boys exited the house about five minutes prior, screams of endearment to the 'sick' girl as they exited the house and headed off to their afternoon practice all except for Nolan and Nick who could now be heard downstairs, voices sounding as the door slammed behind them. A greasy 'pick me up' breakfast in their clutch, promising a McMuffin was just the perfect remedy to help settle her stomach after a morning of puking her guts up in their bathroom.

Nurse Nolan and Nick were screaming once again for her to come to join them downstairs, promises of coffee and food to lure her from her hiding spot. "If you wait any longer the ice in your coffee is gonna melt!" Nick yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "A little patience would be nice blanks" she yelled out, surprised that her voice was able to reach above a choked whisper.

She stared down at the piece of plastic for a second, her heart beating against the cage of her chest like it was trying to break free of its constraints, loud thuds filled her ears as the timer hit ten seconds, then five, three. And then the world went silent, the thuds turned into rings, and in a split second, the sign turned from a loading symbol to a big fat positive sign.

The little computerized screen mocked her. '2-3 weeks' It was like a slap straight to the face. The test dropped from her hands back onto the counter as she fell to her knees, finding her head hung over the toilet once more.

Nolan heard a loud bang come from upstairs, followed by the familiar sounds of agony as she threw up. But this time it ended differently, there was no call out to let the boys know that she was okay, she went silent and then followed it with muffled cries making Nick stop in his tracks and head up the stairs.

"You okay in there?" he asked as he knocked gently on the door, his hand fumbling with the locked knob as a beat of silence passed. “I did something stupid,” she said through the door, her voice already giving up on her, she slowly opened the bathroom door and collapsed into nicks arms, gasping for air as he steadied himself, “like unbelievably stupid, and I need you to take me to the hospital,” she mumbled into the man's chest.

Nolan stood in the doorway of the bathroom his hands gripped the bottle of water harshly as a worried expression filled in his blank face, his stomach in knots as he watched the colour drain from her cheeks.

Nick's fingers gently raked through her hair as she shook uncontrollably into his frame, her fingers gripping at his workout shirt as he held her up to support her, gasping for air as she cried into him.

“What kind of stupid are we talking about, cause me and Nolan can fix anything” she pulled her face out from its hidden place under Nick's chin, worry-filled his face as he searched her for any signs of physical hurt. She cringed and handed Nolan the positive pregnancy test that was being held in her firm grip, "you can't fix this."

“Holy fuck”

She frowned with a sigh and leaned up against the bathroom counter, the sleeves of a sweater shed stolen from Kent being used as a tissue, wiping away the salty tears that kept rolling down her cheeks, her skin itching from the irritation. The mess of mascara under her eyes is smudged more as Nick uses his thumb to wipe some of it away, a light frown on his face as he pulled her back into his arms.

"I'm so unbelievably fucked Nick," she whispered as he pulled away to shake his head. "You're not doing this by yourself if that's what you're trying to imply," She knew exactly what he meant, if she was going through with this, every guy on the Umich hockey team was going through it too, she was one of them, and Nick was going to make sure that every guy knew that.

“Is there anyone you want us to get? Your mom? Maybe your secret lover...” Nick dragged out suspiciously waiting to see if she would spill who the father was. Her eyes went wide as a gasp left her lips, her stomach suddenly feeling in knots once again, “oh my god I have to tell Philippe” her hands came up to her mouth the muffle the incoming cries.

“You slept with Lapointe?!” the two best friends exclaimed in unison as she looked up at them with a glare, “sorry not the time” Nolan whispered and patted her shoulder. "you have the emotion support ability of a rock, y'know that?" Nick said elbowing Nolan to go and hug the girl.

“Philippe and I were a one-time thing, you guys had just done your first home game, and I had done a lot of pregaming” she shrugged defeatedly and took the test back from Nolan, her bottom lip now pulled between her teeth as he squeezed her up against his chest.

A small laugh left her mouth as she recalled the entire affair, "we were so drunk, I woke up the next morning alone, in Holtzy's bed and we never spoke about it again," she grinned remembering her run-in with Owen and Kent the next morning as she rolled out of Steve's room with no pants and no excuse but to come clean.

"You're telling me that you fucked Phil in Steve's bed! And half of the Sophomores know! This is gold, truly" Nick laughed gaining a smack from Nolan. "Who has a lack of emotional capacity now dickhead!"

Nolan took the girl by her shoulder and gently pried her away from him, looking her in the eyes, "are you sure it's his?" "Yeah, you haven't finally given into Estapa's flirting yet have you?" Nick grinned, he loved picking on her for Mark's, not-very-well-hidden crush on her, all the boy knew though that she harboured a little adoration for the freshman who couldn't take a hint to save his life She glared over at him, "I got pregnant, that doesn't entitle me to sleep with half of the Umich rooster" she frowned as Nick grinned back all her.

"But I'm positive that it's Phils, I haven't had sex with anyone in like six months" a bitter-sweet smile on her face as Nolan led her out of the bathroom to get ready to head to the hospital

-❀-

"It's mine isn't it?" Philippe mumbled as she walked into the kitchen, a tired expression on her face as she feigned sleep, praying that a cup of tea or something could soothe her to sleep. She'd recently moved into the spare room in the senior's house after much begging from Nick. Philippe had grown suspicious of the boys new found protectiveness over the girl, his inkling had been settled after overhearing a call between Owen and Nick, solidifying and answering all of his questions,

"I was gonna- how did you-?" she stared at him, and sat at the kitchen table with barely any lights on, the mug in her hand fell to the floor making her jump, abandoning the idea of tea she cautiously moved closer to him.

She nodded gently trying to rack her brain around the fact that this conversation was about to happen. The make-it-or-break-it moment, she thought to herself as she stepped away from the man to grab a small piece of laminated paper, a six-week sonogram of their baby.

"Blanks called Owen while we were on the way to practice yesterday to ask if he could drive you to your ultrasound appointment" he whispered as his hands reached out to touch her, his vision was slightly blurry from the nerves. She stood in front of him, silent, not wanting to disrupt the peace. Her fingers gently racked through his curls that had been crushed with his hat and she placed the small photo in his palm. Begging eyes as she retreated away from him, a sad smile on her face as she watched his gaze soften at the tiny black and white photo.

The man's thumb ran over the little screening of the baby before looking back up at her, her face riddled with guilt as she waited for some sort of reaction. Quietly praying that his reaction was anything but negative, she didn't even need words, just some sort of reassurance,

His lips pulled into a small smile, watching as the worry in her chest deflected and she smiled back. He reached out for her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulled her closer to him, "you call the shots here, okay, I will back you up a hundred percent of the time, you just gotta tell me the game plan" she rolled her eyes at his sports reference.

"Thank you" she whispered and leaned forward to gently kiss the top of his head, his hand found the small of her back, his hand brushing against her soft skin as he soothed the goosebumps on her skin, the two of them basking in silence for a moment longer.

"I think I'm going to keep it" she pulled away from his touch to look Philippe in the eyes, "I can't explain it, but this feels like something that I need to do" she whispered. "You don't have to explain to me" he mumbled back. "What I'm trying to say is that doesn't mean you have to be involved, I want you in the picture, but if you can't I understand" she gave him a sad lopsided smile, her fingers fixing the chain around his neck as his brows furrow. "No no, I'm going be here for you, and I'll always be there for them" he pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly.

"I'm not gonna sit back and make you handle all of this alone," he said lowly as she cried into his neck, mumbled thank you leaving her lips as he squeezed her tighter

-❀-

Philippe grabbed his hockey bag and got ready to head him before Brendan grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back onto the bench, “sit down Lapointe we need to have a chat” Grano smiled softly as Philippe looked at the room to see the entire team staring at him

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his hand raking through his damp curls as his expression grew worried. “Hush I’m the one asking the questions,” Nick said sitting down next to him, obviously trying to intimidate the poor boy who grew nervous under the stares of his entire team

“Anyways we need to talk about your new-found situation” Nick smiled and looked around the room to the rest of the guys who waited for a response. “We’ve already discussed it,” Phil shrugged, his cheeks tinted a rose shade as he looked around at the room, all of the guys waiting for some sort of confirmation that he is in fact going to be a dad.

“Are you gonna marry her?” Mark was the first to speak up after the long pause of tense silence, Phil's eyes narrowed as he looked over to the boy. “Shut up,” KJ smacked him in the arm. “Be honest we are all thinking it!” Jay laughed which gained him a smack as well.

“She doesn’t want to be together romantically” Philippe shrugged and stared down at his feet, painfully aware of the awkward tension that now filled the air. “Good” Nolan chirped, with a big grin. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I’m the one asking questions” The captain silenced both of the boys.

“Why are we doing this exactly?” Phil sighs and looks around the room at the freshmen who look equally as uncomfortable.

“We are just making sure your interests are where they should be,” Brendan grinned and pointed at the photo of the latest sonogram that happened to be Philippe's Lock Screen, “I mean Phil you’re going to be a dad, this is some life-changing shit!” “I know, and I’m all in, she knows that” “Good, that’s all we needed to hear” Nolan’s patted the boy on the back, a grin on his face as she gently shakes his fellow teammate's shoulders.

“Does this make him daddy?” Dylan joked from the far corner of the room making all of the boys erupt into cheers.

Nick turned to the boy who looked ready to make a run from the locker room as soon as possible, “we mainly just want you to know that we have your back, we’re your team, we’re brothers, so you or her need anything let us know” he nodded at the door, a sign for Phil to final go home to the girl waiting for him.

“Thanks, guys,” he said standing up and walking towards the door, but not before hearing a startling “TEAM BABY!” leave Brendan’s mouth.

-❀-

Championship season came and went, her boys were Big Ten Champs and managed to clinch a spot in the frozen four. But soon after came the time no one was looking forward to.

The boys were off to join the big leagues, literally.

“I’m so mad at you guys right now” she frowned as Matty hugged her once more, "but I'm also so proud of all of you" she smiled into his shoulder.

“We are the worst, we know” Owen mumbled as she walked over to hug him again. A smile spread across her face as she ruffled his outgrown hair, he looked up at her with a wide grin, “at least you’re self-aware.”

Everything was gonna be different, the boys that had been a constant in her life ever since orientation week was leaving. all of them leaving to be on different sides of the country.

"You still have Phil, Truscott, and Holtzy" Kent mumbled as she went over to him once again. All the boys cringed at the sentence as her face dropped, "you really think telling me that I'm stuck with the idiot who knocked me up and the other two smart asses is gonna fix it?" he hugged her to shut hut her up, swaying back and forth as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I'm about to have a baby and you're all leaving me"

“You need anything ever, call okay,” Thomas said seriously, motioning to all the boys, "we will drop anything to come and fix it" All the boys nodded as she pouted at them, "I love you guys" she said as the tears started.

-❀-

Summer rolled around quickly meaning that it was time for her to head back to St. Clair, Michigan hometown to not only herself but also her favourite freshman Mark Estapa.

"Mark I swear to god drive so carefully," Philippe said putting her suitcase in the back of the frosh's car, "you have precious cargo on board, so help me god if I hear that something happened I will fly down here and kill you with my bare hands Estapa" he warned one last time before placing a kiss to her cheek and lowering himself to her stomach to whisper a few good words of affection.

She looked over to the boy awkwardly standing there and rolled her eyes, Mark smiled and waited for the man to be eye to eye with him once again, "I promise I’ll be careful, you have my word" he said before Philippe pulled him into one of those really awkward side hugs "Good, see you both in a few weeks," he said helping her into the car and shutting the door behind her.

She waved to him through the window before letting out a loud sigh. "he really took to that paternal instinct" Mark joked making her let out a groan her expression filled with annoyance at his already very overwhelming state of panic. "He's gonna be a good dad, he's just nervous" her expression and looked over to Mark who seemed really tense.

There was a question just sitting on the edge of his tongue, he knew it wasn't appropriate to be asking if the expecting mother was still single but since he first met her at a party during his frosh week, he knew he was done for, she was gonna have a chokehold on him until the moment she graduated.

"So are you guys like together now?" "God no," she laughed, he had tried to convince her that it could work out, but she knew it was just wishful thinking, "don't get me wrong he's great, but we just wouldn't work."

Mark nodded awkwardly, the rest of the drive was filled with small talk, and complaints about pregnancy hormones, mark ranted about how messy Ethan kept the dorm, and then they both bitched about the lack of plans that they had over the summer.

"thank you for the drive Mark" she grinned as he pulled up outside her house, she got out of the car and he followed after her, "what are you doing?" she asked as he opened the trunk. "I'm not gonna make a pregnant woman carry her own suitcase," he said like the answer was obvious, as he hoisted the bag out of the trunk and let her lead the way to the front door. "oh" she turned a light shade of pink, "thank you"

she made it to the front door, she hugged mark and bid him goodbye as her mom swung the door open making the two pull away from each other, "oh my god hun you're huge" she said excitedly before pulling her daughter into a hug. "mom this is Mark, Phil's teammate, he drove me home," she said as her mom smiled softly at him. "I remember Mark, I've seen him play," her mom grinned as she said her thanks to the boy and ushered her daughter inside.

"Y'know if it doesn't work out with Philippe, Mark is a cutie" her mom grinned at her as they walked into the kitchen. "Yeah, I guess he's cute" she shrugged and looked at her mom who laughed.

-❀-

Mark was sleeping comfortably wrapped up in the warmth of his comforter before the ringing of his phone startled him awake.

"Uh hello," his voice rasped with sleep as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of his phone screen. "she went into labour early, I need you to go the hospital and make sure she's okay please, I'm trying to get a flight but I won't be there until tomorrow at least" the voice on the other end sounded panicky and out of breath.

"What? who is this?" he looked down at the phone screen to see that it was nearly three in the morning. "Mark it's Phil, she is in labour, I need you to go there and just make sure that she's okay" "Oh shit, yeah I'm on my way, don't worry" he shot up right out of bed and headed straight into his closet.

The drive to the hospital felt like ages, and he didn't even know if she wanted him in the waiting room.

"oh mark honey" her mom pulled him into a hug, excitement running through her veins as she waited in line at the cafeteria for a coffee. "Philippe wanted me to behave to give him updates or something, he's a little nervous about the whole thing," Mark smiled as he bought her and himself a coffee. "He called to let us know, but I'll make sure to let her know that you're here, and well come get you when the baby is here, sound good" she smiled one last time before walking down the hallway.

After a long nap and a lot of groaning while trying to get comfortable on a metal hospital chair, three hours had passed, and a nurse dressed in pink scrubs walked up to the boy and gently tapped the sleeping boy, "Are you mark?" "Uh, yea?" "follow me" she ushered for him to trail behind her, tiredly walking up to the door, "she's in here," the lady said before opening the door and letting mark walk in before shutting the door behind him.

a little baby girl sat in her arms, bundled up in a small yellow blanket, contently sleeping again her chest. "You did that" he whispered as she motioned for him to come closer.

"You really didn't need to sleep out there Phil would have been fine" she mumbled as she looked up at him. "I wanted to, for him, I also wanted to make sure you're okay, plus I now get to rub it in everyone's face that I met it first" he joked as he finally looked at a really tired-looking new mom. "Her name is Florence, little Flo" she mumbled and brushed her thumb against her daughter's cheek, "it's my grandma's name" "It's pretty," he said awkwardly staring at the baby and then back at the mom, his fingers brushing the baby hairs out of her eyes.

"Go wash your hands and you can hold her" she whispered and looked over to the sink, a smile on her lips as she looked back at Mark. "Really? are you sure?" "you slept here overnight, it's the least I could do" she looked up at mark whose face broke out into a toothy smile.

She gently sat up a little to easily pass the baby over to mark, "just make sure to support her head" she whispered as she placed the small baby in his arms. "She looks like you" he mumbled, as he sat in the chair next to the hospital bed, "she has a little resemblance to Phil, but she's just as pretty as her Mama" he mumbled to the baby and then looked up.

An amused expression sat on her face, "you're really flirting with a woman who just gave birth?" "Did it work?" he joked, his fingers playing with the small onesie on the baby. "Not a chance" "It was worth a shot" he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face, a permanent grin on his lips and cheeks stained a light red as his gaze switched between her and the baby.

"I know we aren't that close, but if you or her ever need anything, I will be there always," he said gently looking down at the baby who made a content humming sound as she grabbed a hold of his finger. She looked down at him, her eyes tearful as she watched the two of them interact, "thank you, Mark"

-

-

-

I know it's kind of long and boring, but I just wanted to provide some sort of foundation for the whole series/ au!!

Hope you guys love it

[sapphic-moon-child]

Bumps Along the way

Chapter 5: Dreaming out loud

Larissa x Shapeshifter!Reader Pregnant!Reader Pregnant!Larissa

Warnings: Pregnancy struggles, Pregnancy/childbirth, Miscarriages, Mental illness, Swears or curses, Infant Death, Stillborn, PTSD, Panic attacks, Near death experience, Mentions of birth and physical exams, vomiting, Adoption, Parental Abandonment

A/N: This story is going to be heavy. It deals with real-life situations that most don’t understand the pain of. 1 in 4 women will experience this in their lifetime. Remember, you don’t know everyone's history.

Chapter 5: Dreaming out loud

Larissa was sitting at her desk swimming in work and feeling the weight of everything on her shoulders, not to mention the morning sickness was in full swing. To anyone walking in they would never know that there was a bin between her legs just in case her stomach decided to revolt for the third time that day. She was miserable, and as if on cue after your 2nd class of the day you walked into her office with a cup of ginger mint tea to ease her stomach. “Darling, are you okay?” You gently ask as you hand her the mug of tea and start massaging her sore and tight shoulders. Sitting back in her chair, Larissa’s eyes flutter shut for a beautiful moment as she relaxes. After spending some time with her before your next class, you let her know that you’ll be back after your lunch duty is done since the rest of your day is just planning periods due to the seniors being on a class trip.

After you meet up with Marylin for your lunch rotation, you knock twice on Larissa’s office door before stepping inside. Seeing that it was only you she sighed with relief and stayed where she was. “Hello my love” you said quietly seeing her sitting on her sofa with her heels off and her feet up. What you didn’t expect was the dark haired girl sitting in her lap, being gently rocked by her. Wednesday looked at Larissa like a mother to her, and sometimes she would show up randomly at your house or in Larissa’s office. Letting her guard down where she was safe and knew her mask could come off for a while. Today was no different, it was a bad day. Some students made fun of her and one of them in chemistry had snipped off part of her plait. It was devastating to her, and being autistic her walls fell and the string snapped. Wednesday went on a screaming rampage and had a full meltdown. She never lost control, but today she did and the knife dropped hard. Larissa had to carry her out, she after getting back to the office tried to use her fists to fight off the headmaster. This failed rather quickly as the blond was quick to gently restrain her and pull her into a hug with deep and firm pressure, effectively calming the raven down. Wednesday let her mask down with three people and three people only. Enid, Larissa and of course you.

“She cut her forehead a bit, would you mind grabbing the first aid kit?” Larissa asked you gently, keeping her tone soft and light. You nodded and came back sitting on the edge of the sofa. Seeing Wednesday look up at you, you smiled and moved her bangs out of the way. She stiffened in Larissa’s arms, but as soon as the headmistress started rubbing her back with her nails gently she relaxed and let you clean and put butterfly bandages on her cut. “Darling girl, I want you to come stay at our house tonight. I want to check on that head of yours later and I think you could use some down time, hmm?” Larissa said sweetly as if she read your mind. “I think that would be best dear.” You confirmed, you loved seeing her like this. She had such a nurturing way with the kids and could even break down the hardest walls.

Wednesday was very out of it, exhausted by the events of the day. “Wednesday honey, do you think you could sit on Larissa’s lap and I can fix your hair?” “NO!” Wednesday cried looking up to the blond with big wide eyes. “Honey, we need to fix it so it's even, I promise not to cut more than absolutely necessary.” Wednesday shook her head violently and burrowed into Larissa’s chest. “Careful honey.” She warned, moving the girl's elbow from her stomach. “Mama does it.” Wednesday said just barely above a whisper. Larissa’s blue eyes found yours and you could see she was trying not to cry. “That’s okay Wens, Mama can do it. Do you want to sit with me while she does?” She shook her head and reached out to you. Getting the shears from her desk and a comb from her purse Larissa came back over to you two. She gently undid Wednesday’s plaits and started to trim the bits of hair that were chopped. In all it was only a few inches, but still traumatic to the raven. “There darling, all done. Do you want me to rebraid it for you?” Larissa's voice was soft. Wednesday nodded and wiped a few tears away. Larissa parted her hair and put two braids in place. As soon as she was done Wednesday turned and went right back to Larissa's lap.

“I think it's time to go home sweet girl.” You whispered softly, picking up her book bag and Larissa's purse. After getting everything together the three of you headed back to your cottage. “Wednesday, why don’t we get you something comfy to wear.” Larissa says and goes to the bedroom to pull out a large t-shirt for the girl and a pair of sweats. Once she gets the raven settled you and Larissa both change into comfy clothes as well. Wednesday sits on the sofa while we cook dinner mindlessly working around each other. Unbeknownst to us Wednesday came into the kitchen just in time to see Larissa cradle her bump as she stirred the pasta sauce. “You’re Pregnant?” Wednesday says in a low tone with almost a hint of hurt in her voice. Larissa freezes for a moment and smiles. “Yes little raven, I am.” Larissa puts the spoon down and turns with her arms out to Wednesday.

The dark haired girl takes a few steps and then breaks down in her arms crying. “darling what’s the matter?” The British blond says gently stroking her hair. “You’ll be too busy for me.” She says almost barely a whisper. “Oh my love, Muma and I will always have time for you, you’re family sweet viper.” You say softly. The smaller girl nods and heads for the table as you start to plate up dinner. After the pasta was eaten and a warm mug of cocoa by the fire was had, the three of you started to retire for bed. Larissa handed Wednesday 2 white pills and a glass of water. Once she was done you had assumed she went off to the guest room that contained a few of her comfort items while you and Larissa went to your bathroom to do your skincare and brush your teeth. As you turned to go tuck the raven in you giggled and stopped in your tracks, the blond following suit. Wednesday was fast asleep in the middle of your king size bed, curled up with her soft black weighted blanket. Not wanting to disturb her nor upset her you both climbed into bed and pulled the covers up falling asleep.

Waking up in the morning you both knew you needed to have a conversation with the girl. Larissa brought in three cups of warm English tea with honey and sat down. Wednesday was now awake too, but cuddled up to your chest. “Wednesday darling” Larissa says sweetly handing the cups to you and Wednesday. “Can I ask you a few questions?” She continues gently. The dark haired girl nods her head but stays quiet. “Do you feel safe at home Wednesday? And I don’t just mean physically, but mentally is it a safe place for you to be you?” She asks calmly, but in a gentle manner. Wednesday shakes her head and looks down for a moment before answering. “Yes and no… I know I am different, but Maman says it's just for attention. She doesn’t understand. I know I’m autistic, so I try to hide it because at home it's not allowed.”

Larissa is trying to keep her anger in check desperately, she is beyond upset that her old friend would make her daughter feel this way. “Darling, you don’t have to hide who you are to anyone. You are special because you are you. I understand what it feels like to be an outcast among outcasts, but here you are safe to just be you.” Wednesday snuggles closer into Larissa’s side. “Maman, uses unusual punishments to “Correct my behavior” as she calls it. Food control, forced visions, and other things I'd rather not talk about right now…” Her voice is timid and if looks could kill Morticia would be dead right now if she was in sight. Larissa’s Muma Bear side has come out and you are struggling to keep your own anger in check.

“Darling, what can we do to help?” You ask softly, slowly undoing her messy braids and running your fingers through her hair, which she won't admit, but truly loves. “Am I old enough to decide where I want to live? I mean, I love it at the school, but with the never ending nightmares and the visions Maman sends me, I don’t feel safe in our dorm anymore. Can… Can I stay here?” Your heart beats a bit in your chest and so does Larissa’s. One glance at each other and your minds were made up. “Darling I will broach the situation to the school board, and have a well worded conversation with your parents, but I don’t see any harm in you living with us. We are your parents too, and we love you darling Wednesday.” The little raven nods her head and burrows her face into Larissa’s neck.

This is a side that you and Larissa have never seen from your troublemaker student, Wednesday was allowing herself to be vulnerable. She was always so put together, her walls built up and strong. Face stern with determination, and rock solid always. This young girl was broken, and so love starved. She desperately needed a foundation to lean on and it was obvious that she didn’t have it. While Morticia and Gomez were good people, it was obvious now that their parenting skills were lacking when it came to the child that demanded their attention to cope with her disabilities, but could never get it. So she built walls so high around herself that now you both were sure she couldn’t even find a way over.

After a while of calming down, Larissa excused herself to run back to the school to retrieve her laptop while Wednesday helped you cook dinner. Her actual motive though was something completely different. Locking her office door behind her she sat down at her desk and pulled out a crystal ball from her office drawer. Lighting the four candles she waved her hand over the top and spoke firmly. “I call forth Morticia Addams.” She sat back and waited as the ball swirled with purple and blue clouds.

“Larissa? Is everything okay?” The dove spoke as though she wasn’t waiting for this call. “Cut the bullshit Tish. I think we both know why I’m calling you this late.” Larissa was firm and strong in her voice, not wanting to have a petty conversation. Morticia sighed, knowing this was coming. “What stories has she told you now Lars?” “Stories, that’s what we are calling them? You have always been so obstinate Tish. Look, we are friends, but I have to ask. What the actual fuck. Your daughter is autistic and struggling and you decide that it is just Attention seeking? Your daughter is in a crisis and you couldn’t be bothered because she’s what. Different?” Larissa was seconds from losing her cool, calm collected demeanor. “Don’t even start with me Larissa. She is not autistic, she is a troublemaker. And while I love her, I won't stand for blatant disobedience. We have no problems with our dear Pugsley, Wednesday is just playing you.” Larissa scoffs loudly and has to fight back a sarcastic laugh.

“Fine if she is such a problem, then sign custody over to me until she is of age. I won't keep her from you, but I will take the responsibility of her and she can decide if she wants time with you and I will make sure she is taken care of.” Larissa knew it was a play on words, but she wasn’t budging. She was not going to let Wednesday suffer due to her old friend being a shitty mother because her daughter wasn’t exactly like her. “Excuse me?” Morticia says in a rather nasty tone. “You heard me perfectly clear Morticia.” Rolling her eyes the dove pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what, fine. We will let Wednesday choose. You want to be her mother so bad, fine. Watch how fast she comes crawling back and away from you.” Larissa had never heard this much venom come from her old roommate. “Deal, I’ll send the paperwork over to you tomorrow morning. Have a good evening Morticia. Oh and please refrain from sending wicked visions to our dear Wednesday.” With a sweet customer service smile Larissa ended the call by blowing out the candles. The blond took a moment to catch her breath and let out the sigh of frustration she was holding onto. Putting everything away she reached into her filing cabinet and pulled out a stack of paperwork and put it in a folder to take home with her. She grabbed her things and headed back to the cottage, visibly worn from the conversation she had and feeling the day start to wear on her shoulders. As she walked back from the school to the place you called home to ran her hand soothingly over her bump. “Little one, your life is going to be so crazy… and so full of love.” Continuing down the path she made it back with a smile on her face and kicked off her shoes and jacket.

”I’m back my loves.” The blond Britt called out sweetly, making you poke your head around the kitchen door. “Just in time, we are putting dinner on the table now love” you said as you gave her a sweet kiss and one on her belly for good measure. Wednesday walked out just in time to roll her eyes in mock disgust before actually giggling. “You two are so cute it actually makes me nauseous.” Wednesday said and walked over to give Larissa a hug. “I’m glad you’re back.” She said in a whisper, Larissa ran her fingers through the girls hair and hugged her back leaving a kiss on her head as they broke their hug. The three sat down at the table to enjoy their dinner, Wednesday and Larissa went to reach for the salad tongs at the same time and as their hands touched Wednesday’s head was thrown back into a vision. At the same time Larissa hissed in pain and clutched at her swollen abdomen. “Riss!” You yelled immediately torn on what to do. “Get her, I'll be okay! She might hit her head again!” Larissa called as she backed away a bit from the table to breath through the sharp pain.

[starluvsx]

★𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Proofread:kinda...not rlly

Wordcount:2266

WARNINGS:throw up/emetophobia , panic attack, crying, this takes place before they’re like famous or wtv.also this is very long.

A/N:ntm on the banner idk what happened😭

“Guess where I’m going tonight”I said to the boy I was on the phone with.my best friend Matt.he was playing video games while I got ready.probably not paying much attention to what I was doing but definitely listening.

“Where?” he questioned as his face twisted into one of frustration.most likely because of the game he was playing.

“I’m going to hailys party” I cheekily said.smiling just at the thought of what tonight would be like.

“Isn’t that like all seniors?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.even though we were both the same age he always acted like my older brother.

"uh yea, i'll be fine dont worry.im not gonna like get fucked by a 20 year old or end up passed out in the street.im a responsible person matt."i rambled on

"i know you are but- shit...seniors can be pretty intense sometimes" the boy on the other line explained

"ill be fine dude, ok anyways, what outfit do i wear?" i said while show-casing two outfits that lay on separate hangers.

"im kinda in the middle of something right now"

"i dont care, just look for a second"

"y/n i litterally cant"

"matthew bernard sturniolo turn your fucking head this direction and help me pick out an outift or i swear to God"

"ok ok jeez" he said as he hesitantly turned to face his phone screen. "i don't like either of them"

"oh fuck you" i said as i put my phone onto its back so i could change into one of the outfits.

✧At the party

a large smile was painted on my face as i swayed my hips to the beat of the music. I've never felt more alive.the freshly poured drink splishing and splashing around in the cup i was holding, small droplets finding a home on my wrist. despite this being me being only a junior i was mixing well with the crowd.not feeling awkward or like i didn't belong for a second

a tap on my shoulder stopped my movements abruptly.i turned around to where the feeling came from only to see the girl that i came here with, Serenity. she looked deepyly upset which wasnt usual for the cheerful girl. "hey sese, whats up?" i yelled over the loud music.im not even sure if she could hear me.

"i feel sick" serenity answered. i quickly grabbed her hand and bee-lined it to the bathroom.she had been drinking alot.way more then me.and i was sure that what she mean t by 'i feel sick' was 'im about to throw up' and i want that to be no where else but the toilet.for her dignity and my sanity.

i banged on the door of the first bathroom i came across. "occupied!" someone yelled from the other side, forcing me to practically drag serenity down the crowded hallway to another bathroom.once we made it to the white door i realized there was no point in knocking because i could hear two drunken people going at it as if it were their last night on earth.

panic began to set in at the same pace as reality.no more bathrooms in sight. shit shit shit i mentally cursed to myslef as i looked over at a half folded over serenity. "y/n i think im gonna throw up"the blonde girl stated

i quietly mumbled "no no your not, please don't, not here" but my pleads were to no eval as once the words left my mouth so did all of the drinks serenity had earlier.it was all over me.my shirt and jeans and even my white shoes. i screamed in panic. tears spilling out of my eyes almost automatically.

as my eyes darted all over the place i noticed the bathroom door where the couple once were fucking was now open.i put my hand on serenities back and shoveled her into the bathroom, careful not to touch any of the vomit on my shirt.she dropped to her knees and went head first into the toilet at the sight of it.the sounds making me gag internally.

i slid down the wall behind me and sobbed.not being able to escape the vomit.i pulled my phone out of my back pocket and opened my contacts.i was about to call my mom to pick me up before i looked at the time. '1:48' it read. she was most definitely asleep. the scrolled through my contacts looking for someone that could come pick me up.

'Matty boy' was the name my eyes locked on, not even waiting a second before calling him.the phone rang longer than i would've liked it to as i pressed it up to my ear. please pick up i mentally begged "hey y/n." a sleepy Matt said on the other line.

i wasted no time "Matt please-please come get me"i choked out through cries.

"what?whats going on?are you ok?"he asked.now sounding more alert and awake

"serenity threw up on me and i-i don't know what to do.please just come get me.please Matt"i begged through the phone.tears sprung out my eyes and rolled down my face, leaving marks of dripping mascara to stain my cheeks.

"ok ill be there in a few minutes.wheres serenity now?"Matt asked.i hadn't even noticed her.i looked down from the ceiling i was staring at and locked eyes with her body.

"she's passed out...o-on the bathroom floor"i slowly got out.

"ok y/n listen to me very carfully,i need you to call haily and tell her serenity is in the bathroom passed out and that you need a chnage of clothes okay?do not leave serenity there." the boy on the other line stated very seriously. i mumbled a small 'okay 'before Matt began talking again "ill be there in a few minutes, don't move from the bathroom."he said before hanging up.silence now filling my ears.

✧Some time later

serenity was now gone after being taken to hailys room so she could sober up.i have a change of clothes on, some large sweat pants and a 'the smiths' t-shirt. although my clothes were now in the washer being clean from throw up, i couldn't get the thought out of my head.

this night, my first real party, had gone to shit.i was tried, scared, my makeup was ruined, my back hurt.i just want to go home. then as if my thoughts were read a knock came at the door. "come in"i lightly shouted.

as soon as the door opened and matt was visible i sprung up from my spot on the floor.hugging the boy before either of us could say anything.sobbing into his shoulder. "its okay.its okay.im here."the brunnete boy said into my hair

he held my back as we walked through the sea of people in order to make it to the exit.drunken others staring at us we walked by.i grabbed my coat which had somehow not bee touched the whole night, a dark blue zip up hoodie.i felt goosebumps go up my arms a I put it on.

the cold air hit my face unexpectidely.the winter weather sending shock through my warm body.a smile krept onto my face for an unidentified reason. i brought my arms over my chest and folded them. "why are you smiling?"matt asked while looking over at me.a smile on his face aswell

"i dont know" i answred with a small giggle.once we finally made it to the car i hobbled myself into the front passenger seat.the car was practically silent as he put the key in the ignition and started it.not much being needed to be said.

Once we pulled out of the carefully chosen parking spot I advised Matt to not drive me home seeing as my mom would probably kill me.a small hum of approval being the only noise to come from him.

This silence was soon followed up with an unexpected “thank you”from Matt. “For calling me when you needed to and not being stubborn”he clarified

A vocal response didn’t seem to fit the situation so I simply nodded in acknowledgment. “My parents are actually out on vacation so there’s no harm in you staying the night by the way, went to Maine or something.” He began to speak.I didn’t respond.only looking out the window infront of me.

“So what was it like?your first senior party?”the driving boy asked as he focused on the road infront of us.the street lights and cars illuminating his pale face.

“Well besides being thrown up on and having a whole panic attack it was pretty good.the drinks were alright and a few guys hit on me but besides that it was just alright”I answered his question.

“Not everything you dreamed of?”matt asked teasingly. Shaking my head no in response “Bummer.well now you get to spend the night with me” he continued as we pulled into his driveway.i never realized how close he lived to Haily.

Once we entered the house I was met with Chris sitting at the kitchen table. “Woah what happened to you”Chris asked.looking up from his cereal and phone.

“A party” I weakly answered.

“Oh is that y/n?”Nick asked from the couch as he turned his head around to face me. “Hey baeee, had a rough night?”he greeted and questioned.

“Rough Night is the understatement of the century”I grumbled as I opened their fridge searching for water.

“You went to hailys party right?yea those seniors are crazy.are those your clothes?”Nick rambled on.

“No these are hailys,serenity threw up on me.”I casually answered,shuddering at the remembrance of what happened.I stretched my arm out to grab the advil in their top shelf.

“Oh gross.you sleeping here tonight?”chris chimed in and asked.

“Yea, no point in going home and getting my ass beat.”I exaggerated

“Where you sleepin?”chris asked again

“Not with you, last time you punched me right in the boob, painful as fuck.”I retorted as I swapped the pills and water.

“Dude it was an accident!i was sleeping!”he answered as he threw his hand sup in defense.making me giggle.

“Not taking any chances”

“Well you can’t sleep with me.”Nick stated suddenly

“Why?”

“My bed is fucking lopsided and I have to sleep on the couch till it’s fixed” Nick said

“Just sleep in Chris’ room”

“He fucking attacks me in his sleep!”

“What about Matt?”

“He’s up too late for me, I need my eight hours but I guess this kid only needs 8 minutes” Nick answered my few questions causing me to lightly laugh

“Ok then I guess I’m sleeping in your room Matty boy”I said, turning to the boy who had just been listening to this conversation silently.

“Ok then cmon,I’m going to bed right now”he tiredly said as he walked in the direction of his room.

“I find that hard to believe”Nick shouted from his place in the couch.

I hugged Chris and Nick before following Matt into his room.

Upon opening the door I saw Matt face down on the mattress. “Jeez I didn’t think you were that tired” I joked as I sat down on the bed next to him.the calming blue led lights coloring us and the rest of the room around us.

He turned his head sideways to face me “I’m always tired”he mumbled.I situated my body so I was now laying next to him more comfortably.we then gradually moved ourselves to face each other while laying on our sides.his eyes staring into mine deeply.

"your beautiful" I whispered under my breath. ive always though Matt was attractive.not in a sexual way but the same way I think Alahna is pretty.but tonight was different.the way the blue lights bounced off his face, and how his messy hair rested almost perfectly on his forehead, or maybe it was how his dark, tired, eyes never seemed to look scary or weird on him.nonetheless he looked a way I don't even think I could describe if you put the words out in-front of me.

"your angelic..." I found myself say as my heart was taking action before my brain.i brushed some hair out of his eyes delicately with my fresh painted nails.he didn't respond, only giving me small smile.i caressed the side of his face with the back of my hand.tracing his facial structure.

"I love you" he abruptly said.the three words causing blood to rush to my cheeks rapidly.my heart besting faster almost as if on command

"I'll always love you more"I solemnly said.not exactly wanting to see his reaction to my words i moved in a little closer and closed my eyes.curling up and grabbing the covers.to my surprise though, after a few minutes I could feel his arm sake over my body and pull me closer.my head resting under his chin lightly.

then we fell asleep peacefully.silently hoping that if we were to never to wake up again that we stay together in the next life

[mulderscully]

i feel like oversharing today.

it's an odd feeling to be moving out at 30. i'm doing what i "should" have done over ten years ago and i keep going over and over how i ended up here.

there is the basic element of the pandemic & the housing crisis but for me, i cannot help but feel like my family failed me and i don't feel like me saying that is pity seeking or asking for sympathy. it's just true and i deserve to say that.

when i was 16 my mom died, she had been terminally ill for THREE years. my aunt and uncle knew she was going to die, they knew they would take me in. they promised her to take care of me.

the summer after my mom's death was one of the worst years of my life, but the summer after my senior year was even worse because that is when the situation genuinely became abusive and i just couldn't see what it was.

until i graduated high school at 19 (yes, i was always a little old in school for some reason) i was allowed to keep my mom's social security benefits, so i would recieve about $200 a month for my needs. at the time $90 of that would go to a storage unit that held all of me and mom's stuff from our old apartment. it got to the point that i couldn't keep paying it so me and my family decided to empty it out.

it gets messy here because my aunt is a hoarder, and i did not understand the gravity of that til that day. she didnt want to donate anything. at all, we physically had no space for the stuff so we went against her, this ended up in her throwing herself at me in the car and kicking me onto the street, grabbing me so hard she ripped my bra and i had to wait for my uncle to come and get me.

i did not understand this was abuse.

that night she jumped at me and choked me until my uncle pulled her off me.

i did not understand this was abuse.

because we threw "her" stuff away that entire summer she was a constant ball of fury that i have never seen. i would sleep and wake up her banging on my door, screaming to let her in.

i would feel dread when i was walking home cause i knew she would be yelling and throwing things because i "betrayed" her.

i did not understand that this was abuse. i JUST let myself start calling it that.

somehow as time went on this stopped happening as often. a lot of other things happened, my aunt also assaulted my uncle and my cousin and was arrested multiple times. but i just... got used to it? because i did, and DO love my aunt and felt like... i owed her bc she took me in.

so when this calmed down, and would only happen every few months, i stayed because i was so depressed. i would sleep until 3 pm every day. i worked nights around that habit. my bedtime was 4 am. i didn't ever wanna be awake when everyone else was. i did not understand how fucked up i was. no one asked me if i needed help,

it wasn't until right before the pandemic when i was 25 that i was like... finally waking up. the pandemic was hard because i had to be in the house all the time and the hoarding got worse bc all of us are too defeated to help now. the house is swallowing me. i come home and feel like i want to go anywhere else. i have a constant stomach ache that i fear is cancer but logically is probably just stress.

i cannot live like this anymore and i will not anymore. i never thought i would actually say i'm moving out and mean it but it's happening. i had to crawl my way out of the grief of my mother's death for thirteen years because my aunt considered her own more important, because she abused me.

i don't know how to even explain my life to people without them looking horrified, but i'm excited for that to change.

[pureblisswrites]

A guide to being kidnapped and escaping 101

Prologue

Chapter 1

"I know you tried to move. Otherwise there would've been no marks." He looked at you accusingly as if you were the one who commited a crime or were covered in blood.

Pairing: afab! Psychologist! Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, slow burn, comedy (an attempt was made)

Warnings: kidnapping (not with malicious intent), use of injection(s), mentions of blood although nothing graphic, criminal activities of course.

Summary: You are a fairly renowned psychologist and therapist but definitely not renowned enough to be getting kidnapped in the middle of the night. Is it one of your past patients with a criminal record? You don't know what the kidnapper wants but you have a feeling you are about to find out.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

Completing Mrs Kim's therapy sessions, check. Because God knows that woman would rather chew glass than talk about her mommy issues and inferiority complex. Being promoted to senior therapist, check. Getting another new pet, check. Being kidnapped from your home, check. Okay so being kidnapped was definitely not on your this year's bingo card.

It's not everyday a bunch of well built men approach your apartment in the middle of the night, inject a needle into your veins, and take you in an expensive looking car with tinted windows. You feel yourself going limp and your mind filling with cloudy haze. Yeah you'd much rather have another therapy session with Mrs Kim than feeling like this, you think to yourself before loosing consciousness completely.

You wake up after God knows how many hours or possibly days? That thought scares you, you hadn't even submitted a leave of absence. What if they fired you? No they wouldn't fire you right? You were one of the top therapists in the country. There was no way they would fire you just after promoting you. And more importantly, what about your pets?

You look around you, observing your surroundings. The room looks like a 5 star suite room. You look down to see silk bed sheets wrapped around you. When you attempt to move you find that your movements are restricted. Your hands are free though, so you remove the sheets from around your legs. Only to find that your feet are cuffed from the bedpost. Great. Just fucking great. You jerk your legs in an attempt to unlock them but it's of no use whatsoever except making some noise.

Should you scream? What if the people who kidnapped you are psychopaths or sociopaths and it sets them off? It certainly won't be your first time dealing with psychopaths or sociopaths. But you needed to be very careful if you wanted some answers and didn't want to die.

"Hello?" You say. Your voice barely above a whisper because your throat feels so fucking hoarse. Just how dehydrated were you? You cough a bit to try to regain your voice. "Hello?" You repeat again. A little louder this time. "Is anyone there?" You almost scream now. Still no answer. You'll have to say something that they couldn't ignore now. You just hoped someone would be on the other side of the giant door. "I'm sorry but I really really need to go to the washroom. I'm not kidding." What the fuck? Did they just brought you here to leave you in a bed and go on with their days? You wished they would talk to you at least once so you could grasp what kind of people they were and what to say and not say to them. "EXCUSE ME?" You shout with all the voice you're left with now and then cough violently afterwards.

Suddenly the door opens by a man dressed in all black with a mask on his face, but his eyes are directed downwards and he isn't coming in. You see the reason mere seconds later. When a man with really well built body enters. His eyes as cold as the cuffs on your feet. He's wearing a white shirt with black harness belts over it. Who wears stuff like this? But that's definitely not the most concerning thing about him. It's the way his white shirt is splashed with blood. And not just one kind of blood. Different shades of blood. So are his black gloves and wrists.

You have worked with people who have been diagnosed with violent behavioural disorders and have seen your fair share of blood in your years long career as a psychologist. But never in this much quantity. And definitely never in this situation where you're tied to a goddamm bed. This was pretty fucking scary.

"Oh hello." He said like he was surprised that you were here, as if he wasn't the one who kidnapped you in the first place. "Did you need something?" He asked politely as if he was some underpaid staff at the local convenience store.

Deciding to not test the waters right now you just uttered one word. "Washroom."

"Oh right." He held out a hand towards the man who had opened the door in the first place and the man placed a a tiny key in his hand. He then walked towards you and opened the lock of the cuffs in one swift motion. It took you longer than this to open the lock of your door. That means he is pretty skilled at what he does. Which is scary because you suppose he murders people. Or animals? What if he is just a butcher? No but he kidnapped someone, the someone being you, he is definitely involved in criminal activities. He frowned when he noticed the red marks on your ankles. As if! Did he not know this would happen? He also seemed fairly experienced in whatever it was that he did considering the number of men working for him, you assumed. "You shouldn't have done that." He stated.

"Huh?" You questioned, too busy analysing his every move. Who knew for how much time they would leave you here again.

"I know you tried to move. Otherwise there would've been no marks." He looked at you accusingly as if you were the one who commited a crime or were covered in blood. This man needed to get his priorities straight.

"Can I go now?" You asked. It felt so weird after asking for permission to go to the fucking washroom after telling people what to do for years as a therapist.

"Uh yeah. It's that black door on your left." He gestured to said door. You stumbled to walk and heard him talking to the other man near the door. "Why did you fucking cuff her?" He sounded a bit angry.

"Because you told us to Boss!" The other man exclaimed while looking pretty shaken up.

"Yeah well I didn't-" he cut himself off and looked at you watching them while standing near the door. Fuck. You rushed inside quickly, afraid of what will happen now that he heard you eavesdropping on their conversation. Even though technically they were talking right in front of you.

You used the washroom not knowing when will be the next time you'll get to get out of the bed you were chained to. You go out and see the man who was not the "boss" standing next to the bed. Trying really hard to unlock the cuffs from the bedpost.

"I- uh sorry I'm kind of an intern here so-" he was clearly struggling to get the key out of keyhole now. Did he get it stuck there? "So- um I wanted to apologise for the inconvenience caused to you on my behalf. Boss ordere- uh asked me to apologize. Did that sound too formal? Sorry I used to work in retail before this if you couldn't already tell." You could.

"Let me see this." You go up to the lock as the man makes way for you. "I think you pretty much broke one of the latches in the locking pad." You observed. You had some experience with broken locks from that time you had your first internship in an asylum.

"Well then I'll go prepare for my funeral. In the meantime you can wait here. Someone will be here soon enough with some food for you." He sighed in despair and walked away. Not even bothering to close the door. Yeah he definitely was an intern.

Well then you might as well observe this place right? Right. You approach the giant door with slow and light steps. Not knowing what you could see on the other side. You look out to see dark hallways on all three sides with multiple doors in them. They are dimly lit from the sunlight that's passing through the huge windows on each end of the walls. You can see greenery. Maybe there's a garden somewhere.

Now... you were a psychologist but no psych vol. 6 book ever had notes about how to escape from a supposed mansion after being kidnapped by God knows who and for what. So you decided to throw caution out of the window and run out. Future you will just have to deal with whatever happens.

Confused between whether to go right, left or center, you decide to follow your instincts and go center. You run as fast as you can, which isn't actually fast because you had long ago decided that you would never have to run. Your job was to sit in a room with someone and talk to them. Why would you need to run? Yeah right. You hear footsteps following you behind so you look behind you just to find... no one? Running while looking in the opposite direction was definitely not a good idea. Because you just know you ran into someone you weren't supposed to run into.

You look up from the well built and hard chest your face had collided into, only to see the "boss" looking at you with an expression you couldn't identify. He was unusually cold yet held a soft look in his eyes. Very contradicting. Thankfully he had changed his blood stained shirt for a plain black one, although he still had those bloody gloves on. You can feel him staining your t-shirt as his big hands grip onto your shoulders from when you had lost your balance while faceplanting into his chest. And you really wish he hadn't held you and let you go so the ground could swallow you whole.

"Going somewhere doc?"

A/N: I wanted to make this longer as well as show their first proper conversation but I've been running low on motivation lately so I thought I should just post this first. Please let me know your thoughts on this, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

[ilici]

coming home.

Summary: Y/N heads home with her uncle, only to find out the football team will be staying with them.

NSFW MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Mention of knife play, knife play, choking, ropes, blindfolded, some surprises.

Word Count: 4540

shift in point of views, when the point of view is changed, the color of the text will change in the first word. I will have a parenthesis of the color that is chosen for those who are colorblind and may not be able to view the color.

Color Code:

Green - Dream

Blue - George

Orange - Sapnap

Purple - Karl

Yellow - Punz

Pink - Reader

Red - Third Person

(Pink) Shifting around, attempting to get a better look at my hip in the mirror, I flinch once my hand makes contact with the healing 'KJ' that was carved into my skin.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Punz's voice sounded muffled, and I could only nod.

Feeling my body being lifted up, I could somewhat make out the outline of George from my blurred vision as I was being carried somewhere.

Hearing the sound of water, I was gently placed into a warm tub, as all five men got to work cleaning me up.

Sapnap was washing my hair, Dream was getting the bandages and ointment ready for my hip, and Karl was scrubbing off some of the dried cum, and washing the rest of my body.

Once I was finished, Dream put the ointment and bandage on me, while Punz made sure I peed.

George now had me bundled up in warm towels he put in the dryer to make them warmer for me.

While I was in the bath, George even made hot chocolate for everyone and put on a Christmas movie.

Getting dressed in Sapnap's clothes, Karl carried me into the living room. Setting me down on the couch, George put a blanket on me and handed me the hot chocolate. Dream played the movie, and I spent a couple more hours there.

The aftercare was amazing.

Shaking my head, and putting another bandage on it, I huff quickly getting dressed. Letting my hair air dry, as I was too lazy to even bother with it.

"Y/N!"

Looking at the closed door, that slightly muffled the voice that yelled.

"Yeah?"

"Your uncle is here!"

Running my fingers through my tangled hair, wincing once they got caught in a knot.

Opening the door I smiled at my uncle, who only scolded me for taking forever to get ready.

"It's not like you have a wound to tend to."

I muttered under my breath, Karl's face appearing in my mind.

"What was that?"

He asked, and I only shrugged my shoulders, acting as if I said nothing.

"Let's go. We have guests waiting for us."

Halting my stops, I look at him my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What?"

-

(Orange) "Please just shut the fuck up."

I groan, refraining from banging my head against the window of the RV, as Dream and Karl scream at each other playing Mario Kart on their switches.

"God shut up!"

Punz yelled, throwing one of the couch pillows at Karl.

Karl let out a grunt of disapproval before his mood changed as he flipped Dream off.

"Suck on that you fucker."

Dream only retaliated by punching Karl's arm harshly.

"And you say I rage."

I whispered under my breath, looking up at Y/N's dorm door.

"So why exactly are we at the girl's dorms?"

George asked, and I looked over at him as if he were stupid.

"We're picking Y/N up, you idiot. The coach was telling us he was picking up his niece the entire time we were loading up."

Punz explained, hitting George every time he said a new word.

-

(Red) Everyone quickly stopped talking, once Coach walked into the RV.

"You guys are acting weird."

He muttered, shaking his head sitting down in the drivers seat.

Y/N finally walked in, her midriff visible, a little part of the bandage visible to those who looked close enough, or studied her body.

Karl instantly spotted it, a smirk played on his lips, as he scanned her body.

"Boys, this is Y/N. She is my niece, she is a Senior here."

This caught everyone's attention.

They all sworn up and down she was younger than them.

"You all probably remember her when I sent her to give you guys the rough draft."

"Oh, I definitely remember that."

Dream spoke up, a playful smirk on his face.

Y/N looked at all of them, her eyes lingering on Karl a little longer once she remembered the injury on her hip.

Giving them a small smile, she turned around sitting in the passenger seat trying her best to ignore their existence.

"When did you even get this thing? And why?"

She voiced out, busying herself with her phone, scrolling aimlessly through TikTok awaiting her uncle's answer.

Without answering, her uncle only glanced at her as he turned it on, lightly pressing on the gas to exit the dorm's parking lot.

"Well?"

She pressed, shooting him a glare.

"I got it about two weeks ago, I figured why not take the boys on vacation and also train as well. With you coming along, I figured my van wouldn't fit everyone."

He finally answered, and she nodded leaving it at that.

"Ow! Get back here you punk!"

Was heard, before Punz was basically on top of Y/N, giving her a goofy grin.

"Settle down!"

Coach yelled while Sapnap tugged on Punz's leg, attempting to pry him off.

"Do you mind getting off?"

She voiced, shoving him off of her, while Sapnap dragged him behind the curtains of the cab.

"Do you mind going to settle them down?"

He asked her, and she rolled her eyes following in behind Punz's disappearing head.

Once she was in view, George cleared his throat.

-

(Blue) "You lot are basically children, aren't you?"

I heard Y/N speak, and looked down at my hands that were gripping Karl's hood to keep him from attacking Punz.

Watching her eyes scan the scene, Dream dropped Sapnap, as Punz groaned once Sapnap fell on him.

"Pretty sure children can't fuck a senior in college."

Sapnap spoke up, his voice muffled in Punz's back. Shaking her head, and rolling her eyes she walked over grabbing Dream's wrist, along with mine pulling the both of us to the back.

As the three of us stepped over the two on the floor, I kept throwing Dream a confused glance, one that he'd return.

"What do you need?"

Dream asked before I could.

"If you two do not tame those three out there, I will be pissed, and so will my uncle. I want to at least sleep on the drive there."

She said, sternly, as if we were being scolded.

"How long is the drive anyways?"

I asked, rubbing the back of my neck taking notice that she has yet to drop our wrists.

She merely glanced my way, before looking over her shoulder.

"About six hours. Why?"

She asked, finally dropping our wrists, adjusting her skirt, and attempting to hide the bandage, that slightly, just slightly blended into her skin tone.

"If you're trying to hide that, why wear whatever this is?"

Dream spoke, grabbing the thin cloth that she called a shirt.

Slapping his hand away, she scowled, "It's called a crop top. It's long enough to hide everything unless I raise my arms."

She defended, while Dream and I hummed before walking around her.

As I was on the side that her injury was on, I purposely wrapped my arm around her waist, dragging it along until it left contact with her.

--

(Purple) Watching where George and Dream came from intently, I smiled brightly when she came back through.

She looked at Sapnap and Punz who were now settled down, busy playing whatever game they were on the switches.

As she was about to walk past me, my body instinctively reacted.

"Yes?"

Blinking, I realized I had grabbed her wrist halting all her movements.

"Oh- Uhm. Want to watch this movie with me?"

I asked, my face turning red.

Watching her look around, George was on his phone loudly scrolling through TikTok, Dream was trying to convince the coach to let him have one of the beers from the fridge, while Punz was laid across Sapnap both focused on their games.

Hearing her sigh, I gave her a look of hope, and she rolled her eyes giving in.

"There isn't any place to sit. You're in the weird recliner chair."

She pointed out, and I shrugged letting her wrist go before patting my lap.

"But my uncle--"

"But nothing. He is driving, Dream is now in your spot, and George is on the little space left on the couch since Sapnap and Punz are taking up the rest. Nobody is going to pay any mind to it."

I reassured her, and she nodded before hesitantly sitting down. I grinned, rotating the chair towards the direction of the table where my laptop resided.

"What movie is it?"

I hummed, helping her adjust to her level of comfort, my arms now wrapped around her waist and my head resting on her shoulder.

"It's not actually a movie, I just say that because I binge this series for hours. It's Total Drama Island."

She nodded, as I unpaused the movie.

--

(Yellow) "Bro. Look."

Patting Sapnap's chest, as my head was in his lap, he grunted and looked down at me to see where I was pointing.

Both of our eyes traveled to where Karl and Y/N were watching something on his laptop. No sound was heard from the laptop as they both had his AirPods in.

"Damn. Lucky bitch."

Sapnap whispered, "Seems innocent though. They're both watching something. Let's leave it be. Plus her uncle is just behind those curtains."

He dismissed it quickly.

I rolled my eyes, "They could be watching porn."

Sapnap smacked my head and whispered under his breath.

"Shut the hell up."

George spoke up, and I tilted my head back to look at him.

"What?"

"One. You're distracting me from my video and I have earbuds in, two not everyone is horny like you."

He rambled, and I laughed.

"You finally have earbuds in after having to listen to your loud shit."

--

(Red) Everyone was now in their own world. Dream was helping his coach with directions while also keeping up a conversation, George was in the bathroom for more privacy, and Sapnap and Punz were knocked out snoring ever so slightly.

Karl and Y/N were on season 2, and they still had about 5 hours left of the drive.

--

(Pink) "Karl, I have a question."

He hummed, letting me know he was listening.

"Why didn't Bad come with us?"

I asked, and he looked at me, now that we were now in a new position.

"He was going to come, but he decided to stay behind and fix up the locker room for us. Something about a smell that was lingering."

He explained, rubbing my bare legs that were thrown over the edge of the chair.

I nodded, "There was a smell. So I understand."

Chuckling, we turned our attention back to the show.

Growing bored, I glanced around us and bit my bottom lip.

Karl and I were basically alone. George was nowhere in sight, Punz and Sapnap were dead asleep, and Dream was still in the front.

Turning to look at him, I gave him a small nudge on his shoulder.

"What's up?"

He asked, keeping his attention on the screen.

Leaning forward to whisper in his ear, I grin.

"We're alone if you think about it."

He looked around, noticing how it was practically empty.

--

(Purple) Smirking, my mind instantly thought of multiple things.

"Do you know how to be quiet as well as you know how to whisper?"

I asked her, and she gave me a confused look.

"Don't you think we could have a little fun while watching this? We can even make a bet."

This piqued her interest, and she was now all ears.

"Cockwarm me, whoever makes a sound, wants more, or moves first loses. The winner gets to leave a hickey anywhere on the other."

Watching the gears turn in her head, she grinned nodding.

Helping her move back into her original position, I lifted the back of her skirt a bit.

"Thong? How risqué."

I tease, and she smacked my leg in rebuttal.

Lifting her up a bit, I moved my sweatpants down until I pulled my cock out.

"No boxers? How risqué."

She teased.

I rolled my eyes, and moved her thong to the side, already feeling how wet she was. Biting my bottom lip, I helped her slide onto me. We both held back a groan, and she shuddered.

"Good luck."

I whispered, unpausing the show.

Turning our attention back to the show, Y/N was biting her bottom lip roughly.

--

(Red) To others' eyes, it looked like Karl and Y/N were still watching TDI normally.

But one person knew what was happening, and they couldn't wait to bust them.

They wanted to join in on the fun.

--

(Yellow) Looking up at Sapnap, I slowly raise up carefully not to wake him. Scratching my neck, I look at Karl and Y/N smirking.

Y/N was barely moving her hips, and I saw Karl grip her waist roughly. She winced from the pain, more than likely from the wound.

"You lost. But don't worry. It'll be double the punishment."

Karl whispered to her, maintaining eye contact with me.

Gesturing to the bedroom, Karl lifted Y/N up before putting his cock away and Y/N looked at me with a red face.

I tutted and shook my head grabbing her wrist and leading her to the bedroom as Karl paused his video and followed behind.

"You both are horny fucks."

I said throwing Y/N onto the bed, her skirt flying up to her stomach. I instantly looked at her thong which was now damp.

"Yet so am I."

I growled out, motioning Karl to barricade the entrance.

"I'm going to devour you."

I told her, and she whimpered quietly.

Grabbing her plush thighs, I pulled her towards me roughly.

"I've been waiting to do this since you got in this damn RV."

Pulling her thong off of her body, I stuffed it into her mouth as Karl now joined us on the bed.

Looking over my shoulder, I see he put the curtain down, and hooked it onto the closet doorknob.

"Be quiet for us."

Karl told her, and I scoffed at how sweet he was being with her.

Rolling my eyes, I started nipping at her thighs, working my way up to her pussy.

Karl on the other hand was leaving hickeys all over her breasts.

Finally making it up to her pussy, I gave it a long lick before devouring it.

--

(Blue) Walking out of the bathroom, I saw only Sapnap dead asleep on the couch and no sign of anyone else.

Walking towards the bedroom, I heard muffled noises, and I smirked.

Trying to open the curtain, which refused to open, I glared at it before crawling under finally making it in.

"Thought you could have fun without me?"

I asked, and Punz just simply flipped me off continuing to eat her out, as Karl looked up at me shrugging.

"You were in the bathroom."

Scoffing, I crawled over to the bed taking her thong out of her mouth and sticking my fingers in her mouth instantly shoving them down her throat.

Hearing her gag on them, I smirk.

"Want to suck me off?"

I asked, and she eagerly nodded with glossy eyes.

Pulling my sweats and boxers down, I pull out of fingers and replaced them with my cock.

She instantly started sucking, and I leaned my head back in bliss.

"Sapnap should be waking up soon. Dream will be the only one that won't join us."

I told them, and Punz laughed into her pussy, causing her hips to buck up.

"Seriously?"

"Told you."

I muttered, petting Y/N's head and looking over at Sapnap who had an obvious tent in his shorts.

"Feel free to join."

Karl said, now kissing all the hickeys he left.

"Dude, Dream is going to be pissed."

Watching Y/N orgasm once more, Sapnap pushed Punz away.

--

(Orange) "Damn. How many times did she cum?"

I asked, seeing how fucked out she already looked.

"I counted five times."

Punz said, and Karl furrowed his eyebrows.

"I counted seven."

He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. I'm going to fuck her anyways. Karl, did you pack that tie you were talking about?"

I asked, and Karl nodded walking over to his luggage that was under the bed pulling out a green and black tie.

"Seriously? Harry Potter-themed tie?"

George said, pulling his now semi-limp cock out of her mouth as some cum spilled down her chin.

"Shut up. It matches one of my outfits."

He said defensively.

Taking the tie from him, I handed it to George who looked down at her.

"We're going to blindfold you. Is that okay?"

Watching her nod, I strip off my shorts and boxers, lining my cock up before slowly pushing in and groaning out.

"Be a little quieter, just because they have music blaring doesn't mean they won't hear."

Punz said, throwing a pillow at me.

--

(Pink) Losing my vision, I reach for something as I adjust to the slight burn of Sapnap's cock stretching me. Feeling someone's hand interlace with mine, putting me at ease.

Feeling Sapnap pullout, he rammed back into me. Arching my back a hand from another direction covered my mouth muffling the loud moan.

"Quiet."

They warned, and I nodded at Punz's demanding tone.

Keeping their hand there, the other hand that I was digging my nails into was rubbing their thumb over my hand soothing me.

"Be a good girl for us."

Karl muttered, and I kept holding back moans, letting some slip through into Punz's hand.

After what felt like forever, I finally felt myself coming close.

"Gonna cum? I can feel it."

Sapnap said, speeding up his thrusts.

Nodding vigorously, I dug my nails deeper into the other person's skin when I felt myself cum.

Sapnap came inside of me shortly after and pulled out shoving his cum back into me.

"Smile for the picture pretty girl."

Sapnap mumbled.

Feeling all the weight from everyone getting off the bed, my mouth and hand felt empty.

Finally feeling the tie being taken off, I adjust to the lighting and look around.

Everyone left besides Punz.

He helped clean me up and changed the bandage for me.

Since my skirt had some cum on it, I had to change into a pair of my sweats instead.

Walking out with Punz, I sat on the couch letting Sapnap rest his head on my lap as he handed me a switch.

"Let's play a game."

--

Actually Dumb (Blue): Send the pic

Simp (Purple): ^

Dom Daddy. (Green): What pic?

Fuckboy 2.1 (Orange): Load Image

--

(Green) Looking ahead at the road, I pulled my phone back out after a couple minutes and opened the chat.

Clicking on the image, I nearly choked on my spit.

"Excuse me, sir."

I said, before walking out and glaring at everyone.

Y/N and Sapnap were playing a game together, and Karl was on his laptop, while George and Punz were smirking up at me.

"You guys think this is funny?"

I whispered, walking towards them.

"You chose to sit with the coach. Not our fault. Can't go up there and simply say, "Hey want to fuck Y/N with us?" Now, can I?"

Punz said shrugging, while Y/N and Sapnap paused their game everyone's attention turning to me.

Running my fingers through my hair, I threw one of the empty juice boxes at Punz.

"Just wait till we get there."

I said pointing at them, my eyes locking with Y/N's.

"Yeah yeah, whatever Dream."

Sapnap mumbled, unpausing his game.

Walking back up to the front, I sat down cursing under my breath looking at how many miles we had left.

"What was it?"

"Sapnap couldn't find the beers."

--

(Red) Sleeping the rest of the way there, Y/N was picked up by Dream per the Coaches request, and was brought into what was another house beside the one their coach went into.

Placing her down on the bed after finding the bedroom, Dream sat down on the rocking chair waiting till she woke up, a harsh glare on his features.

Losing his patience after a simple four minutes, he climbed atop the bed and wrapped his hands around her throat.

"Wake up princess. My turn. This time, a pea isn't gonna be what's bothering the princesses sleep."

Waking up startled, Y/N looked up at Dream and instantly whined once she realized his hand was choking her.

"Look who decided to finally wake up."

"You gonna be good for me? Your uncle is right outside setting up everything for when the boys and I practice."

Nodding her head, Dream scoffed, tightening his grip.

"Words."

"Yes."

Dream finally released her throat, and grinned to himself.

"I have you all to myself. I was assigned to keep you company until you woke up."

This made Y/N shiver, knowing they were actually alone.

"Turn over, let me take these off."

Taking off her sweats, he helped flip her over, forcing her ass in the air and making her arch her back.

"Already wet. Cute."

Y/N whined, gripping the pillow that was under her, and dug her face into it to muffle any of the sounds that would escape her soon.

Not even bothering to move the thong, he stripped over his clothes and gave her no time to prep before slamming into her. Y/N let out a muffled scream tears already pouring down her face.

Gripping onto her ass, he pounded into her, each thrust stretching her out.

"This is what you get. Punished, all because you were a whore who couldn't wait."

Y/N kept her moans muffled in the pillow, as she was already on the verge of collapsing from the amount of pleasure.

Making sure to hit the same spot over and over, Y/N quickly milked his cock, and Dream gave her no time to ride out her high as he aimed to make her overstimulated.

Going numb from the pleasure, Y/N could only make sounds that were incoherent, and sentences that made no sense whatsoever.

Feeling himself growing close, he reached around rubbing her clit so she would cum again once he did.

"Cum with me, pretty girl."

Y/N collapsed, and Dream, followed allowing himself to go deeper in this position. Causing him and Y/N to cum at the same time. Slowly pulling out, he cleaned himself and Y/N as she fell asleep from the overstimulation.

"Looks like I'll be needing to keep you company even longer."

--

Waking up once more, everyone was now in the room.

"I told you she sleeps a long time."

Dream spoke up, and she attempted to raise up but was refrained from her wrists. Looking over confused, her eyes widened at the sight of handcuffs.

"What?"

She asked, attempting to pull herself away from them.

"That won't work pretty."

Punz said, and Y/N groaned looking at them.

"What now?"

She questioned, and sighed giving up.

"Well. Your uncle went into town to get supplies and food, but he said the nearest town is about a forty minute drive. You also owe three people rounds."

Whining, she looked around as Karl climbed on the bed.

"You won't be needing these."

He said, cutting her clothes off with the same knife he used.

Shivering at the cold air on her bare skin, the cold metal not helping any.

"I think a cute little scar right on the side of your boob would be nice. Don't you think so too?"

Involuntary shivering, she bit her lip nodding.

"Yes, I think so."

Karl laughed happily, as he angled the knife this time cutting into her skin with more precision than last time.

Closing her eyes in slight pain, she leaned her head back feeling blood trickle down her body.

Feeling it being wiped away, she looked down seeing what he carved in her skin.

'PKSDG'

It followed the curve of her boob, being small enough to be hidden if she were to undress in front of someone.

"Perfect."

Trickling the knife along her bare body, he tossed it away and looked up at her.

"Can I fuck you now?"

Y/N nodded her head eagerly, completely forgetting about the others in the room.

Karl aligned his cock to her entrance, and slowly sunk in.

Both moaned at the feeling, Y/N leaning her head back in bliss.

Bottoming out, he pulled out before slamming back into her, causing her back to arch and her wrists to pull against the handcuffs.

The slight pain in her wrists were forgotten from the pleasure she was receiving.

"Fuck--"

She moaned out, while Karl kept his pace somewhat slow with rough thrusts.

Still being new to sex, Karl couldn't last long like the others. Filling her up with his cum as she came with him, she whined as he pulled out only to quickly be replaced as Punz slammed into her, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder.

Karl moved over to the side, kissing along the mark he left behind, as she was moaning, growing sensitive from Punz.

"Punz-- Holy shit."

She moaned out, before he was pulling out slowly.

Looking up at him confused and discomfort from feeling empty he only glared at her.

"Take the handcuffs off of her wrists."

He demanded, and Sapnap quickly took the handcuffs off of her wrists, allowing her to rub them a bit to soothe the small ache.

Picking her up, Punz set her on his hips, before entering her again but not moving.

Looking up once she felt the bed dip from a new person, George was now in front of her.

Aligning his cock, he slowly slid in, his and Punz's cock rubbing against each other stretching Y/N out even more.

Y/N moaned out in pain, leaning her head back against Punk's shoulder.

"Move."

Dream said, and the two listened as they began thrusting up into her with a rhythm.

Y/N was a mess, she had her eyes closed, her mouth was open yet no sounds were heard.

"Done fucked her dumb."

Sapnap muttered, shaking his head.

Feeling pressure, they both quickly pulled out as Y/N squirted everywhere.

Once she finished, they reentered her, Y/N letting out a strained moan digging her nails into Karl's thigh.

"Come on, one more time for us."

George told her, and Y/N was trembling, her whole body shaking.

Pulling out once more, she squirted one last time as both Punz and George came on her.

Collapsing against Punz, she passed out from exhaustion.

"I'll get the bath running."

Sapnap spoke up, and everyone started tidying her up, as Karl carried her and placed her in the tub.

"Maybe we should start going easy on her."

Karl said, looking at her going in and out of consciousness.

"She can handle it."

Dream said, as he rummaged around looking for ointment and a new bandage, for both wounds.

"She doesn't have hot chocolate but she did have white mocha mix and an espresso machine."

George told them, while they all nodded.

"Movie?"

"I put on Horton hears a Who."

tag list.

@schaarfyx @choclate32 @asherssick @tommyinnit-kinnie @saahmi

[priincebutt]

💘

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss -- send a heart for a kiss snippet!

“You’ve never played spin the bottle before???” Nora’s eyes are wide and saucers as she screams the question over the pulsating music of the frat party they are at. She looks from Henry to Percy to Alex, then back to Henry again as if one of them are going to tell her she’s being punked, and when Henry simply shrugs and opens his palms, a physical apology for his lack of culture, Nora makes a pfft sound and grabs his hand, heading from the living room where they’d been dancing only moments before and leading him into the kitchen. This produces a small train following them, because after Henry comes Percy, and after Percy their Alex follows closely, and their caboose is June, whose hips still sway to the beat of the music coming from the massive sound system in the other room.

It’s Lambda Chi Alpha’s welcome back party, the first of the fall semester, and it’s June and Henry’s senior year, and Alex, Nora and Percy are Juniors. The only reason their little group is united at this party tonight is because June is determined to make up for three years of studying too much and not ‘embracing the college culture,’ so they’re starting the semester off with a bang – Alex’s frat’s biggest party.

The kitchen is less populated, though there are still a good amount of people milling around, mostly the stoner kids who are going in and out of the back door to hit joints, and a few younger girls who are mixing drinks at the kitchen island. They must be freshmen, Alex notes, because as Nora marches over to the assortment of bottles they scatter, tittering as they go, eyeing the little group with interest and standing far enough back to still observe but not seem too obvious.

Nora grabs a mostly empty vodka bottle, and sets it on its side on the island. “Okay, everyone gather around,” She gestures and slurs her words only slightly. They all cram in around the island, everyone taking an edge, and Alex looks over at Henry as subtly as he can. He hadn’t known June was going to be inviting her British bestie tonight, and he honestly feels some kind of way about it. As a poli sci major who plays lacrosse and is an active member of a fraternity, Alex hasn’t had much time to think about dating over the past two years of his life. But damn, if Henry doesn’t make him want to change that.

Ever since June had invited Henry to their family’s Christmas when he couldn’t make it home to England two years ago, Alex has hidden a massive, enormous, absolutely debilitating crush on the blond. He hides it with teasing comments and lasting jabs, because he’s not out and he doesn’t really know how to handle the way he’s feeling about Henry, but damn, the whiskey he’s drinking has gone straight to his head and he wishes for nothing more than this bottle to land on him so he can finally show Henry just how he feels.

That would just be too good to be true, though, and fate never quite works that way for Alex.

“So, you spin the bottle –” Nora demonstrates, sending the vodka bottle reeling, and when it lands on Percy she trills with delight. “Then, you have to kiss whoever it lands on!” She scoots over to her left and Percy leans in, and they share a chaste peck because Nora and June have been together forever and everyone knows it. June only laughs and claps, and a few people, drawn by the excitement of their little game, have joined them in the circle.

Percy spins next and it lands on a petite brunette who looks nervous but graciously accepts a kiss on the cheek from Percy, and when she spins the bottle lands on one of Alex’s frat brothers who joined them. The girl giggles through a very uncomfortable looking kiss, and then the guy spins and it lands – 

On Henry.

Alex feels a surge of jealousy ricochet through him, and he tries to laugh it off. His frat brother is much less kind. He makes a noise at the back of his throat and walks away, murmuring something about not wanting to kiss any dudes.

“What an ass. Your spin, Henry!” June calls out, trying to bring the attention back from the homophobe and onto their little party. Henry looks nervous now, and spins the bottle aggressively. It tilts to the side and everyone cries out as it looks like it’s about to fly off of the island, but it stops right as it reaches the edge, pointing directly at Alex.

He tries not to look or feel smug. He tries to keep his features schooled into a neutral indifference. Henry looks at him with hope in his eyes, lips parted as if to say something. Alex doesn’t let him. He grabs a hold of Henry’s collar and tugs him in close, the smell of Henry’s expensive cologne washing over him in a way that leaves him reeling, and they haven’t even kissed yet. Before he can regret this, before he can decide better of it and blame the alcohol, Alex presses in, his lips meeting Henry’s which causes the world to melt away around them. So much for subtlety, his mind hisses at him, and he bats it away when one of Henry’s hands cup his cheek and the other threads through his hair.

Alex presses into him, crowding up into Henry’s space and parting his lips on a small gasp, and when Henry’s tongue brushes against his he just about goes feral. He’s only vaguely aware of June and Nora whooping and Percy snapping a picture on his phone, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All that matters is Henry.

Henry pulls back first. He’s breathless and his cheeks are flushed pink, and while his smile is shy there’s a hint of triumph there as well. Alex presses their foreheads together as they catch their breath, and Henry bites his lower lip, his hands on either side of Alex’s neck as he thinks for a moment and finally leans in to whisper into Alex’s ear.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a very. Long. Time.”

[lilac-hecox]

oooh as we're manifesting it - ianthony + haunted house as a prompt??? 👀👀 we all know i Love a haunted house fic. also i will be sending a couple of these only do what you want / what inspires in you xoxo ly - katie

Ian/Anthony - Haunted House

--

Every year Ian and Anthony’s high school always puts on a haunted house at the school to raise money for some benefit or fund. It feels like they are constantly raising money and Ian can never keep up with which fundraiser he’s supposed to be showing his parents. This year, the funds for the haunted house are going towards the athletic department, which includes the cross-country team, and Ian’s coach had strongly encouraged the members of the team to go.

Honestly, if it had only been for cross-country, no way in hell would Ian be standing in the bustling hallway of his high school waiting to go through a damn haunted hallway. It sounds lame, but it’s become a school tradition, and each year the seniors always want to out-do the year before them, always angling to be the haunted hallway that gets talked about for years to come, so, needless to say, they really pull out all the stops, and even more needless to say, Ian is a chicken-shit.

So, why is Ian here if not for cross-country? It’s very simple. He’s here for Anthony. Ian’s here because Anthony wanted to come, and where you find Anthony, you could usually always find Ian. Anthony bounces on his heels and grins excitedly, way too excitedly in Ian’s opinion.

“Don’t look so pissed,” Anthony says, nudging Ian in the side with his elbow. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

“Dude, remember last year? That freaky kid who knew how to ride a unicycle chased someone all the way back to their car!”

“Okay,” Anthony says, “but you’re not scared of unicycles.”

“I’m scared of dudes dressed as a crazed killer clown chasing me through the parking lot.”

“You do cross-country, you know you could outrun a unicycle. You’re fast as hell, dude.”

Ian flushes at the compliment, but his fear doesn’t let him think on it for long. The line inches forward and he and Anthony are dangerously close to being the next pair to go through.

“You’re keeping up your end of the deal, right?” Ian asks, poking at Anthony’s chest.

Anthony rubs the spot Ian poked and rolls his eyes, “Dude, yes. You go through the haunted hallway with me, and I’ll buy us a pizza afterwards.”

“And breadsticks.”

“Ian,” Anthony says, annoyed.

“Fine, a Coke?”

Anthony offers his hand, “Deal.”

Ian takes it and they shake on it. By the time they are done with their deal, the line has shifted again, and Mrs. Girard holds her hand out to take each of their five-dollar bills. Then, Ian hangs back, letting Anthony lead the way through the dark tarp strung across the hallway that signals the entrance to the haunted hallway.

It’s already too dark and Ian feels his heart speed up in his chest. He knows it’s lame to be fourteen and afraid of a stupid haunted house at their school, but he can’t see shit, and he can barely sense Anthony in front of him.

“Anthony?” Ian whispers.

“I’m right here,” Anthony mumbles back.

They walk past a classroom and Ian notices too late that the door is ajar.

Before either of them knows it, a huge figure with a glowing mask proceeds to lunge out of the darkness of the classroom at them. Ian shrieks at the top of his lungs and Anthony giggles as he makes a scared yelp.

Ian’s heart races and they keep walking, there’s a flickering light up ahead, and as he and Anthony approach it, clanging is heard around them, each metallic bang makes Ian jump. They round a corner, and someone jumps out of a trash can and screams at them.

Again, Ian screams, but this time he grabs on to Anthony’s shoulders, pressing his face into Anthony’s back.

“Dude!” Anthony says, laughing breathlessly, though he sounds like he might have gotten scared too. “You’re okay, Ian. Chill out.”

In the distance, Ian begins to hear circus music playing. He freezes up, reaching out to grab Anthony’s arm.

“Huh?”

“I can’t…” Ian mumbles.

“What?”

“There’s going to be, like, a freaking clown in there or something!” Ian hisses.

It made him feel like a little kid, but he was terrified of clowns, at least right now, and Ian can’t fathom coming face-to-face with one here, even if Anthony is with him.

“It’ll be fine, come on, the quicker we go, the quicker we’ll be done, right?”

Ian can’t argue with that logic, but the ball of nerves in his stomach is tight as they walk forward, the music getting louder around them. A classroom door is open and an orangey colored light spills out into the hallway. The two best friends stop in front of the door and Ian is taken aback. The whole inside of the classroom has been made over to look like a circus tent, he doesn’t even see any desks or remnants of what the classroom would normally look like.

“I don’t see anything?” Anthony says, and then, Ian is horrified to see him step into the room.

“Anthony! Don’t go in there!” Ian says sharply.

“I just wanna see. You don’t have to.”

Ian glances around. He’s stuck between standing in the pitch-black hallway alone or following Anthony into the circus room. He sighs as he follows his best friend. The room appears empty, but the music is loud. Ian scans the room, and just as he starts to calm down, the door behind them swings shut.

Ian whips around and sees a huge clown standing there, a deranged painted smile on his face, as he holds a few scraggly balloons.

Ian screeches at the top of his lungs and before he even realizes it, he’s grabbed Anthony’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He’s also shut his eyes, accepting a painful clown-related death. Ian feels Anthony tugging him, their hands linked, and he feels Anthony pulling him back through the door and into the hallway.

Back in the darkness, Ian is breathing heavily, and he can hear Anthony’s breath the same. It takes him a moment to notice that they are still holding hands. They’ve never done this before, but it’s comforting, and Ian really doesn’t want to let go. He can’t see Anthony’s face in the darkness of the hallway, but he feels when Anthony tugs him forward to keep walking, seemingly alright with holding hands.

Ian feels his face getting hot in a blush. Why was Anthony letting him hold his hand? Why wasn’t he calling him a pussy and shaking him off? Now, Ian was scared again, but it had nothing to do with the haunted house this time.

He and Anthony hold hands for the rest of the haunted house, it’s somehow easier to finish it that way, Ian can’t bring himself to be quite as scared as he had before. Once they are nearing the end, where they can hear other people laughing and being loud. Ian doesn’t ask, neither of them talk, but their hands fall away from each other. Ian instantly misses the warmth, the slight roughness of Anthony’s palm against his own.

Anthony pushes through the door that leads them to the parking lot.

“See?” Anthony finally says, his face illuminated under one of the streetlights in the school’s parking lot. “No unicycles to be found.”

“Yeah,” Ian says, though it was the last thing on his mind.

Anthony looks at his feet before looking at Ian. There is one quiet second where Ian thinks maybe one of them should say something, but neither of them do.

“So, you wanna go get that pizza?” Anthony asks.

“Oh, yeah, all that screaming made me hungry,” Ian says, laughing. Anthony laughs too.

The pizza place is a ten-minute walk from their high school. They set off on foot together, Anthony with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and Ian’s nervously hanging at his sides. There is another silence, something thicker than before. Ian’s aware that once they get a few blocks away they will be alone again, in semi-darkness, and he feels a small tingle of wonder on if maybe they will holds hands again.

“My Coke too,” Ian says belatedly, breaking the silence between them.

“Huh?” Anthony asks, like he was a million miles away.

“You said you’d buy me a Coke too.”

“Oh, right, you got it. I did force you into a haunted house where you screamed like a sissy half the time.”

Ian grins, “Shut up, dick.”

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Steddie Wish Baby AU, Baby Mine

Babies cried a lot. Eddie already knew that. But it seemed this kid, his kid, liked to scream their head off when he so much as put the baby down for even a second.

"Come on, please stop crying. I can't just hold you all the time." Eddie begged the kid as he sat on the couch, rocking the baby on his knee. Looking the child over revealed that this wish baby was a girl. Eddie knew as much about girls as he did about babies. Which was to say, very little. But he couldn't be angry at the kid. She didn't know any better. Staring up at him with her wide doe eyes, curiously reaching out. Her tiny hand caught a strand of his hair and gave it a tug. The baby let out a giggle as she did so. Eddie sighed. He wasn't ready for a kid. How the hell was he even going to tell Steve? Hey, I've had a crush on you forever, and hearing you talk about six little nuggets made me want one? No way. Eddie could do this on his own....somehow...besides, he finally managed to get her to calm down. How hard could it be?

"Eddie? Hey? Are you there?" There was a banging on the front door. The baby broke out of her peaceful trance and began to sob again.

"Oh God damn it." Eddie cursed as he got up. He hesitated to answer the door for a moment before realizing he couldn't hide the baby forever. Going over to the door, Eddie opened it and froze when he saw the very man he was intent on avoiding. Steve Harrington was on his porch. The screen door was the only thing between the two as Eddie gaped. Searching for words to say before managing to stutter a question out. "Er, ugh, Harrington....what are you doing here?" Eddie turned the baby away from the man. Patting her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"Dustin asked me to come check on you. Wanted to make sure you were okay." Of course Dustin would send Harrington to check on him. He watched Steve take a moment to recognize the baby. "Ugh, what's that?" Eddie couldn't help but snort.

"It's a baby Harrington. You of all people should know-"

"I mean, why do you have one?" Straight to the point. Eddie couldn't reasonably say babysitting. Who would trust a recently acquitted Satanic murderer with their child? The truth was out of the option too....

"She's ugh, well, you ever hear about the term wish baby?" Steve blinked at him. Looking at Eddie, then the baby in his arms, then back at Eddie.

"You made a wish baby?"

"Not on purpose!" Eddie defended himself. "It's a long story. But yeah. This little gal is mine."

"Oh." Steve stared for a moment. "She looks like you."

"Yeah."

"So....who's the mom?" There it was. The million dollar question.

"I can't tell you. It would ruin her life." Last thing Eddie wanted to do was drag Steve down with him. He only knew a few things about the Harrington family via passing comments from Steve and Robin. But he knew enough to know that if Harrington Senior found out Steve had a kid with another man, a Munson, he would not be happy. "Her parents would kill her if they found out."

"Shit." Steve paused. Only now did Eddie realize the baby had stopped crying. "So, are you going to keep her?"

"Yeah....yeah I'm the reason she's here in the first place. I can't just dump her off some place and run away."

"Raising a baby on your own is a lot. Do you even have stuff for a baby?" Eddie shook his head.

"No. I don't even know where to start." Eddie admitted as his grip on the baby tightened slightly. "Only been a dad for a few hours and I'm already doing a sucky job."

"Hey, don't say that." Steve frowned. "Listen-I'll take you shopping. We'll get the stuff she really needs and go from there."

"Steve, you don't have to do this. I'm not some charity case."

"No, but you are my friend." Eddie didn't want to admit how his heart skipped a beat when Steve called him a friend. "Come on, we can go to Wally World and get everything we need for the kid."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah, of course!" Steve nodded excitedly. He had no reason to be this enthusiastic and supportive, yet here he was, willing to help with anything Eddie needed for their baby. A small smile crossed Eddie's face. Knowing that even if he didn't tell Steve, at least he'd still be in their daughter's life.

"Mind holding her while I go grab my coat?"

"Oh, ugh-yeah! I can do that." Steve agreed. Eddie opened the screen door and stepped out. He carefully handed the baby to Steve, the child almost instinctively curling into her other father's arms like she had with Eddie previously. For a moment, it was like they were a happy little family.

[dino-fart]

Hello. I believe I saw requests are open so I was hoping for a Frank Castle fic.

The idea is that the reader works at a coffee shop and Frank goes to visit while under the guise of Pete Castiglione. They form a bond and he visits frequently until one day he stops visiting due to getting scared. He doesn't want to risk getting close to the reader and risk the wrong people finding out about them and hurting the reader. He decides to stay away until one day while doing some work as the Punisher he sees the reader getting mugged. He saves them but they're pretty shaken up. Once the reader gets a look at Frank they immediately recognize him and just pull him into a hug crying their thanks

@logan-strong

Oooo I love it!

You owned a bakery/coffee shop called The Espresso Express, it was a shop near the subway station that grew popular over time. You were putting the icing on the pastries when your barista Isabel walked into the kitchen. "Hey boss, scary is here." Isabel said.

You chuckled softly, "He's not that scary. Grumpy maybe."

"Okay well, grumpy is here and I really don't want to serve him." Isabel said and you sighed.

You walked out of the kitchen to the cashier counter where 'scary' was. You got his usual black coffee in a to-go cup ready then walked over to the cash register. "You're scaring away my employees Castiglione." You teased.

The man chuckled a little and pulled out his wallet, "Guess I have that effect on everyone."

"What are you doing, Pete?"

"Paying for my coffee?" Pete raised a brow.

"You know it's on the house."

"I appreciate it but I don't think it's a good look if I'm the only one who gets free coffee." Pete smiled.

"You're not, the seniors get free coffee too."

"Ah, so I'm in with them, huh?"

"You sure are, old man." You grinned and he laughed softly.

Pete thanked you for the coffee and left the shop. "He totally likes you." Charlotte, the other barista teased.

"Pay attention to the register, Charlotte." You grinned at her.

"Tell him to bring you flowers and his number next time!" Betty, an elderly customer, said.

You shook your head and laughed as you made your way back to the kitchen.

Pete came by two more days before he just disappeared. You were disappointed you didn't see him but you just assumed he was busy.

It was Friday night and closing time. You let your employees leave early and finished cleaning up then headed to the subway station to get home. You stepped into the subway train as it pulled up and sat down to look at your phone. You were too distracted by your phone to notice the three men walking in and glancing at you. The doors closed the train began to move then one of the men moved to sit next to you.

"Sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could help me with something. I'm looking for this man, have you seen him?" He pulled out his phone and showed you a picture of…Pete?! You looked up at the man, he didn't look like a police officer so you weren't going to answer. Another man moved to sit on the other side of you and you noticed he taking out a gun and setting it on his lap. "Perhaps you can answer us again otherwise you're gonna lose your life and that little coffee shop of yours. Have you seen him?" The same man asked you.

You took a deep breath and nodded, "O-Okay…I see him sometimes at the coffee shop but I haven't seen him in weeks." You hoped the half-lie would satisfy them. The lights of the subway cart you were in went out. You heard a loud bang and screamed at the top of your lungs. You fell off of your seat and crawled backward, you were sure you were shot.

The lights in the tunnel illuminated the graphic scene piece by piece to you. You saw a man in all black and a white skull on his chest beating the life out of the three men. You heard them screaming in pain and the final scene you saw was blood on the floor, on the seats, and on the man's face. You fainted at the sight. You opened your eyes slowly and the first thing you saw dimly lit ceiling.

"Am I…Dead?" You mumbled as you sat up on the couch.

"You almost were, good thing you just fainted and not actually shot." You heard a gruff voice and you turned to your right where the voice was coming from.

You saw the man sitting on the chair across from you and you gasped in surprise. "Pete?"

"It's Frank…" The man revealed.

"Frank Castle…You're-"

"Yeah." He cut you off. You moved to sit on the edge of the couch. "Look I'm sorry I got you in this mess, I thought maybe if I stayed away…You'd be safe." You felt tears form in your eyes and Frank noticed immediately. "It's okay…I've got you." He said softly and moved to sit next to you on the couch. You hugged him tightly and buried your face in his chest.

Frank returned the hug and promised himself he would keep you safe.

Tagging:@deepbatched, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lostpirateinwonderland

[lykieu]

Iced water in winter. That’s just the kind of person Blaze is. She paces, tracking a dirt path along the floor. An engine drones nearby, comforting in its steadiness, yet strangely numbing all the same. From the airship’s rounded windows, she can see Rhodes Island fast approaching, a distant speck over looming mountains. Past the embrace of cloud and sky, it seems they’re nearing home at last.

“You should get some rest too,” Shining says without looking up. Her tone is soft, as soothing as her Arts. There aren’t many people Blaze would trust in urgency; for all her confidence, she’s only ever known how to burn.

Light fills the room for a split second, blinding and warm beyond the partition. Like a miracle, Blaze thinks, staring in awe at wounds that fade and mend.

“How is she looking?”

“She will be fine. Sore but ready to return to the field after some rest.”

Blaze releases a breath, unknowingly held. “Good to know.”

Shining hums idly, turning to lock their eyes at this. “I didn’t know that you were close.”

The paper cup slips a little in her hand, condensation building to drip along constantly heated skin. Blaze blinks, confused, but she doesn’t look away. “She’s my assigned partner,” she answers. Like, it’s obvious. Like…

There’s no other response, only a murmured, “I see.”

The senior medic nods before exiting soundlessly, an ethereal glow about her, residual tricks or something more. Yet again, Blaze thinks of miracles, and warmth that seeps.

“I should care this much,” Blaze says quietly, chasing crystals in her mind. “At least.”

A moment passes, wherein the only movement is the steady rise and fall of GreyThroat’s chest, tucked beneath clinically white sheets. Blaze simply watches, more sentinel than anything. Her drink is no longer cold by the time she decides to move. She takes a step closer, inspecting the sniper’s expression, so serene in the absence of its usual scowl.

Infected… Uninfected…

Blaze hates that she’ll always have to choose.

The airship dips as they approach landing. Blaze feels her balance tilt unexpectedly. She staggers into a chair. The airship leans again, sharply this time.

They should be close by now. There should be an announcement—

But it happens at once: the flash-bang-shriek of metal on metal. Voices scream. Alarms sound. Blaze spares one glance at her partner before launching herself across the makeshift quarters, crushing the cup in her hand. She scrambles towards the commotion, assessing as she goes, sorting chaos from the scene. The main hatch has been unlocked, door open to billowing air. They’re not far from solid ground. Not far at all.

There’s yelling of enemy fire and the flurry of their own retaliation. A swarm of silver surrounds them. And beside her—

“Don’t jump without me.”

Blaze almost trips in shock.

GreyThroat is strapping her quiver to her back. Her face is pale, still painted with dust and fatigue. But her eyes are alight with drive, gleaming forest green. Her cloak is missing, leaving bandages to peek from her sleeveless top. She’s loading, aiming—

Blaze wants to argue but the first bolt streaks past her without a word.

In the distance, a drone explodes, then another, and another. Each one is shot down in a stunning display of accuracy. GreyThroat reloads with chilling grace, raising a brow at Blaze’s astonishment.

“They followed us,” she notes in her pragmatic way, though it isn’t enough to hide the worry flickering beneath her veneer.

“They did,” Blaze answers soberly, hefting her weapon from its case.

“Let’s go,” they say at once.

Blaze swallows her surprise, leaning past the doorway to meet the freezing air. Those words strike a chord within her chest. That tone, so similar to her own, lacking in any sense of fear…

It occurs to her suddenly that GreyThroat is on their side. Really. Her side.

Infected… Uninfected…

As they drop from the airship, fingertips grazing, Blaze wonders if they can choose both.

[lightdragon789]

Other inserts backstory/facts Pt 9

Eva Morris

Almost at the end, I’m gonna miss doing this but I’ll be happy to get this done.

Rebel spy is honestly very fun and I really like the dynamic with Naveed. He’s a goofy guy who doesn’t know pig grow hair. (I will forever hold this over his head lol) but let’s dive into my listener for this series, Eva!

(TW: topic of sexual harassment)

Backstory:

Much of 2772's history is unknown. The only thing she knows is that her parents are nowhere to be found on the ship. Considered to be MIA.

Eva grew up with her uncle who was a high rank on Valeazean and thus gave Eva some privileges. Such as reading old books from earth and being able to go with her uncle to meet the council. But it also gave her high expectations not only because of her uncle but because she wanted to make her missing parents proud.

She was put into training in communication and investigation as her start up occupations. She did well in her work and was raised up to a level 5 cadet. Especially when she also applied to work in navigation. She was very trusting to others who were friendly to her. Always having fun and taking their work seriously.

This came to bite her as she (around 19 at this point) was walking with a senior cadet. They were just chatting with their friend before they went to their rooms. He walked her to her room and kept making sly and flirtatious remarks to Eva. Which was making her uncomfortable and she tried to excuse herself and walk away. However, he grabbed her and pinned her to the wall. Holding a blade to her throat that if she dared to scream or fight back. He would slit her throat and then started feeling her up.

It made her feel disgusted and she pushed and punched him in the face. Also causing him to slash the side of her neck. She took her chance and started running as he raised his blade and faked chased her. Eva went back into her room and locked herself, holding her bleeding neck. She didn’t have a lot of medical supplies but she managed to patch herself up. Afterwards she just cried into her pillow until she fell asleep.

She was awoken by banging at her door and she put on her jacket to cover her neck. Feeling ashamed of her wound and not wanting to be shown with bare skin. It was her uncle and he lightly scolded her for attacking the senior officer unprompted and would be issued a penalty. Unless she had a convincing counter, which she said she didn’t. She was emotional drained and didn’t want to talk about what happened.

It took her a few months to get over the encounter and while she performed her tasks. She was very withdrawn and not as social as before, being more cautious of everyone and even to older officers. But she decided to toughen herself out, so that no one touches her again.

As years go on, she kept herself busy in the training room. Strengthening her body and gaining muscles. Teaching herself self defense and some offense combat. Also entering in interrogation, as she was surprisingly well at making people confess. It helped strengthen her resolve in being tough and more so in her confidence. She stayed a level 6 cadet and would have been a level 7-8 if it wasn’t for her penalty.

Things only got more frustrating, as Eva tried to ask about her parents. Asking if they were on the ship, if they were dead and other things. Most of which, her uncle dismissed or gaslit her with random details. She grew more distrusting of him and soon went to get answers herself. As going to sector B to look through her files didn’t give her answers, nothing mentioning her parents. Eva had a feeling there was more to it. She went into her uncle’s corridors armed with a flash drive and with her uncle’s id card. Eva wasn’t skilled at hacking so she borrowed his card in the lie that she wanted to read some old earth books.

She snuck in and got to work on his system. She once the flash drive was in, it would give warning that someone was going into the system. So once she found her files (as well as some locked files) she managed to compile them and plugged the flash drive in to download them. It took a while and she knew a warning would be sent to her uncle that someone was looking into the files on his computer.

She managed to get it all downloaded, unplug it and stash it in her pocket before her uncle and two officers came in. Eva managed to just make it look like she was looking at secret ship system blue prints. Her uncle scolded her harshly for this as those blueprints weren’t even approved yet. Calling her a problem solider, issuing her another penalty and demoting her back to a level 4 cadet.

She tried to explain herself but he didn’t hear it, stating she should be lucky their family as he would throw her into space if she was a rando. She was shaken by this and once again accepted the punishment. She went back to her room and stores the drive in a safe place, as she needed to get someone skilled in hacking in order to see her files.

She gained a new coat after being demoted and Eva still kept her distance. Not trusting her uncle or anyone on Valeazean for that matter. The only person who still remained a good friend to her was Trinity. As she made the effort to talk and help Eva when she got demoted and was getting more snappy with people she worked with. She let Eva vent to her about her problems with everyone and asks if she was bad due to her distrust of the council runs things and their twisted philosophies.

She assures her she wasn’t but warns her to be careful. As she heard rumors of a rebel group forming and she wanted Eva to be careful in case they tried to recruit her. Seeing her attitude and distrust to everyone might make them think she’s a worthy recruit. Eva assured Trinity she wouldn’t get herself killed by joining “a small group of rule breakers.” However, Eva was intrigued hearing about a rebel group and questioned if Trinity let that slip or if it really was a warning.

She stayed in the dark about it but was trying to learn more about this rebel group. It wasn’t until someone affiliated with the group took an interest in Eva and gave her info on a recruitment meeting happening soon. They hope she can make it, as her close connections to her uncle and by extension the council, could be of use. Eva was skeptical about it but remembering how shady and distrusting the council (and by extension her uncle) was to her. She decided this was worth risking and went to the recruitment meeting.

However, she didn’t expect the weekly maintenance check to be happening the day of the meeting. It was being investigated and Eva quickly ran away in fear of getting caught. She decided to run to sector C server rooms, as no one goes down there often and only send bots when the systems are being hacked. Thinking no one would be down there, she used an access code her uncle gave her to access semi-important rooms a long time ago. She managed to get in and thought she had a chance to breathe.

But luck wasn’t on her side that day… or was it?

Facts time!

Eva is 27, 5’3 and is Aroace and goes by she/her pronouns.

Thanks to her uncle, she had privileges that not many others have. Such as access to old earth books. Her favorites being books on trees as she loves ones like willow tree.

She hates sudden loud noises as it causes her to freak out and cower.

Eva although doesn’t let her guard and always acts tough. She doesn’t like it and sometimes wishes she could go back to being the carefree person she once was.

She doesn’t like psychical contact and will shove someone off her or hit them if they dare to grab/attack her.

She will tolerate it, if it’s a dire situation (aka most of rebel spy lol) but she will be a bit pissy about it.

Her relationship with Naveed is rocky due to their first encounter with each other. However, she’s grown to tolerate him and find him humorous. Silently enjoying his company, even if it’s the wrong place to be making friends.

Even being okay with being near him as their time together shows he means her no harm. Especially, after she explained her side of the story from the first penalty with the cadet.

Her proof she was the victim was on her neck, as she still has a scar from where he sliced her. Due to her not properly treating it in the beginning.

Similar to Naveed and Soheil, Eva’s eyes glow in the dark. Sometimes when’s she stressed or in tight situations. To her it’s normal but she started questioning it when she saw the brother’s eyes doing the same thing. Making her question if she’s an experiment too, but doesn’t remember it.

That’s all I have on Eva right now, I love her dearly as she my angsty gal! But it’s time to end this backstory game with my little bug Nash! ^^

[xtruss]

The Secret Life and Anonymous Death of the Most Prolific War-Crimes Investigator in History

When Mustafa Died, in the Earthquakes in Türkiye, his Work in Syria had Assisted in the Prosecutions of Numerous Figures in Bashar al-Assad’s Regime.

— By Ben Taub | September 14, 2023

Photo Illustration By Cristiana Couceiro; Source Photograph From Getty Images

It Was 4:17 A.M. on February 6th in Antakya, an Ancient Turkish City Near the Syrian Border, when the earth tore open and people’s beds began to shake. On the third floor of an apartment in the Ekinci neighborhood, Anwar Saadeddin, a former brigadier general in the Syrian Army, awoke to the sounds of glass breaking, cupboard doors banging, and jars of tahini and cured eggplant spilling onto the floor. He climbed out of bed, but, for almost thirty seconds, he was unable to keep his footing; the building was moving side to side. When the earthquake subsided, he tried to call his daughter Rula, who lived down the road, but the cellular network was down.

Thirty seconds after the first quake, the building started moving again, this time up and down, with such violence that an exterior wall sheared open, and rain started pouring in. The noise was tremendous—concrete splitting, rebar bending, plates shattering, neighbors screaming. When the shaking stopped, about a minute later, Saadeddin, who is in his late sixties, and his wife walked down three flights of stairs, dressed in pajamas and sandals, and went out into the cold.

“All of Antakya was black—there was no electricity anywhere,” Saadeddin recalled. Thousands of the city’s buildings had collapsed. Survivors spilled into the streets, crowding rubble-strewn alleyways and searching for open ground, as minarets toppled and glass shards fluttered down from tower blocks. The general and his wife set off in the direction of the building where Rula lived, with her husband, Mustafa, and their four children.

A third quake shook the ground. When Saadeddin made it to his daughter’s apartment block, flashes of lighting illuminated what was now a fourteen-story grave. The building—which had been completed less than two years earlier—had twisted as it toppled over, crushing many of the residents. Saadeddin felt his body drained of all emotion, almost as if it didn’t belong to him.

Saadeddin was not the only person searching for Rula and her family. For the past decade, her husband, Mustafa, had quietly served as the deputy chief of Syria investigations for the Commission for International Justice and Accountability, a group that has captured more than a million pages of documents from Syrian military and intelligence facilities. Using these files, lawyers at the cija have prepared some of the most comprehensive war-crimes cases since the Nuremberg trials, targeting senior Syrian regime officers—including the President, Bashar al-Assad. After the earthquake, the group directed its investigative focus into a search-and-rescue operation for members of its own Syrian team, many of whom had been displaced to southern Turkey after more than a decade of war. By the end of the third day, nearly everyone was accounted for. Two investigators had lost children; one of them had also lost his wife. But Mustafa was still missing.

For as long as Mustafa had been working for the cija, the group had kept his identity secret—even after it captured a Syrian intelligence document that showed that the regime knew about his investigative work and was actively hunting him down. “He was probably my best investigator,” Mustafa’s supervisor, an Australian who goes by Mick, told me, during a recent visit to the Turkish-Syrian border. Documents that Mustafa obtained, and witness interviews that he conducted, have assisted judicial proceedings in the United States, France, Belgium, Germany, and several other European jurisdictions. According to a cija estimate, Mustafa “either directly obtained or supported in the acquisition” of more than two hundred thousand pages of internal Syrian regime documents, likely making him—by sheer volume of evidence collected—the most prolific war-crimes investigator in history.

Twelve years into the Syrian war, at least half the population has been displaced, often multiple times, under varied circumstances of individual tragedy. No one knows the actual death toll—not even to the nearest hundred thousand. And yet the Syrian regime’s crimes continue apace. “The prisons are full,” Bill Wiley, the cija’s founder and executive director, told me. “All the offenses that started being carried out at scale in 2011 are still being perpetrated. Unlawful detention, physical abuse amounting to torture, extrajudicial killing, sexual offenses—all of that continues. War crimes on the battlefield, particularly in the context of aerial operations. There are still chemical attacks. It all continues. But, as long as there’s the drip, drip, drip of Western prosecutions, pursuant to universal jurisdiction, it’s really difficult to envision the normalization of the regime.”

Before the Syrian Revolution, Mustafa was a trial lawyer, living and working in Al-Rastan, a suburb of the central city of Homs. He and his wife, Rula, had three small children, and Rula was pregnant with the fourth. In early 2011, when Syrians took to the streets to protest against the regime—which had ruled for almost half a century—Assad declared that anyone who did not contribute to “burying sedition” was “a part of it.” Suddenly Mustafa was caught in a delicate position, since many of Rula’s male relatives were military officers.

Her father and her uncles had joined the Syrian armed forces as young men, and served Assad’s father for many years before they served him. In the mid-nineties, Assad’s older brother died in a car crash, and he was called back from his studies in London and sent to a military academy in Homs. Eventually, he joined a staff officers’ course, where Anwar Saadeddin—then a colonel and a military engineer—says he spent a year and a half in his class.

Assad became President in 2000, after his father died, and for the next decade Saadeddin carried on with his duties without complaint. In 2003, Saadeddin was promoted to the rank of brigadier general. At the outset of the revolution, his younger son was a lieutenant, and he was two years from retirement.

Mustafa and Rula’s fourth child was born on April 5, 2011. Three days later, security forces shot a number of protesters in the Baba Amr neighborhood of Homs, including a disabled man, who was unable to run away. They dragged him from the site and returned his mutilated corpse to his family the following evening. From then on, Homs was the site of some of the largest anti-regime protests—and the most violent crackdown.

On April 19th, thousands of people gathered for a sit-in beneath a clock tower. At about midnight, officers warned that anyone who didn’t leave voluntarily would be removed by force. A couple of hours passed; a thousand people remained. At dawn, the people of Homs awoke to traces of a massacre. A witness later reported that religious leaders who had stayed to treat the wounded and to tend to the dead were summarily executed. Several others recalled that the bodies were removed with dump trucks, and that the blood of the dead and wounded was washed away with hoses.

The day after the massacre, according to documents that were later captured from Assad’s highest-level security committee, the regime decided to embark on a “new phase” in the crackdown, to “demonstrate the power and capacity of the state.” Nine days later, regime forces killed at least nineteen protesters in Al-Rastan, where Mustafa and Rula lived. Mustafa wasn’t involved in politics or human-rights work, beyond discussions of basic democratic reforms, but he was appalled by the overtly criminal manner in which security forces and associated militias carried out their campaign with impunity. Locals formed neighborhood-protection units, and soon took up arms against the state.

A few months later, Mustafa briefly sneaked out of Syria to attend a training session in Turkey, led by Bill Wiley, a Canadian war-crimes investigator who had previously worked for various tribunals and the International Criminal Court. Wiley, and others in his world, had noticed a jurisdictional gap in accountability for Syria and had begun casting about for Syrian lawyers who might be up for a perilous, but worthy, task. Although there was no tribunal set up for Syria, and Russia and China had blocked efforts to refer Syria to the I.C.C., Wiley and his associates had reasoned that the process of collecting evidence is purely a matter of risk tolerance and logistics. The work of criminal investigators is different from that of human-rights N.G.O.s: groups like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch produce and disseminate reports on horrific violations and abuse, but Wiley trained Mustafa and the other Syrians in attendance to collect the kind of evidence that could allow prosecutors to assign individual criminal responsibility to senior military and intelligence officers. A video showing tanks firing on unarmed protesters might influence public opinion, but a pile of military communications that proved which commanders were in charge of the operation could one day land someone in jail.

“The first task was to ferret out primary-source material—documents, in particular, generated by the regime,” Wiley told me. “We were looking for prima-facie evidence, not intelligence product or information to inform the public.”

Mustafa instantly grasped the urgency of the project. By day, he carried on with his law practice. But, in secret, he started building up sources within the armed opposition. As they captured new territory, he would go into security and intelligence facilities, box up documents, and move them to secret locations, like farmhouses or caves, farther from the confrontation lines.

“By 2012, we had already started to get some structure,” Wiley recalled. He secured funding from Western governments, and eventually the group settled on a name: the Commission for International Justice and Accountability. “We had our guys in Raqqa, Idlib, Aleppo, and so forth—at least one guy in all the key areas,” he said. From there, the cija built out each team—between two and four individuals, working under the head of each provincial cell. “And Mustafa was our core guy in Homs.”

Anwar Saadeddin soon found himself wielding his position in order to rescue relatives who were caught up in the conflict. His younger son, an Army lieutenant, was detained by military operatives on the outskirts of Damascus, after another officer in his brigade reported him for watching Al Arabiya and Al Jazeera. According to an internal military communication, which was later captured by the cija, Assad believed that foreign reporting on Syria amounted to “psychological warfare aimed at creating a state of internal chaos.”

When Saadeddin’s son was detained, he recalled, “I interfered just to decrease the detention period to thirty days.” Soon afterward, he learned that Mustafa was a target of military intelligence in Homs, where the local facility, Branch 261, was headed by one of Saadeddin’s friends: Mohammed Zamrini.

Mustafa wasn’t calling for an armed rebellion, and, at the time, neither the regime nor his father-in-law knew of his connection to Wiley and the cija. But rebel factions were active in Al-Rastan, and Mustafa was known to have urged them not to destroy any public establishments. To hard-liners in the regime, such interaction was considered tantamount to collaboration. “So I went with Mustafa to the branch,” Saadeddin told me. Zamrini agreed to detain him as a formality—for about twelve hours, with light interrogations and no torture or abuse—so that he could essentially cross Mustafa off the list.

In the next few months, the security situation rapidly deteriorated. The Army encircled rebellious neighborhoods near Homs and shelled them to the ground. Saadeddin’s son, who was serving near Damascus, was arrested a second time, and in order to get him released Saadeddin had to supplicate himself in the office of Assef Shawkat, Assad’s brother-in-law and the deputy minister of defense. In Homs, Saadeddin started driving Mustafa to and from work in his light-blue Kia; as a brigadier general, he could move passengers through checkpoints without them being searched or arrested.

But Saadeddin was beginning to find his position untenable. He sensed that the regime’s policy of total violence would lead to the destruction of the country. That spring, he began to share his fears and frustrations with close colleagues and friends, including the commander of his son’s brigade. But it was a perilous game: Assad’s highest-level security committee had instructed the heads of regional security branches to hunt down “security agents who are irresolute or unenthusiastic” in carrying out their duties. According to a U.N. inquiry, some officers were detained and tortured for having “attempted to spare civilians” on whom they had been ordered to fire.

That spring, Saadeddin’s car was stopped at one of the checkpoints that ordinarily waved him through. It was the first time that his position served not as protection against interrogation but as a reason to question his loyalty. The regime was quickly losing territory, and as the conflict spiralled out of control many senior officers found themselves approaching the limits of their willingness to go along. He and his brothers had “reached a point where we would either stand by the regime and have to take part in atrocities, or we would have to defect,” he told me.

That July, Saadeddin gathered his brothers, his sons, two nephews, and several other military officers in front of a small camera, somewhere near the Turkish-Syrian border. Dressed in his uniform, he announced that the army to which he had pledged his allegiance some four decades earlier had “deviated from its mission” and turned on its citizens instead. To honor the Syrian public’s “steadfastness in the face of barbaric assaults by Assad’s bloody gangs, we have decided to defect from the Army,” he said. It was one of the largest mass defections of Syrian officers, and his plan was to take a leading role in the rebellion—to fight for freedom “until martyrdom or victory.” In response, Saadeddin told me, their former colleagues sent troops to destroy their houses and those of their family members. They expropriated their land and killed several of their relatives.

By now, the regime had ceded swaths of Syria’s border with Turkey to various rebel forces. Saadeddin moved his family across the border and into a refugee camp that the Turkish government had set up for military and intelligence officers who defected. Then he went back to Syria, to try to bring some order and unity to the rebel factions that were battling his former colleagues.

But Mustafa and his family stayed behind in Al-Rastan, which was now firmly in rebel hands. The regime’s loss of control at the Turkish border meant that the cija could start moving its captured documents out of the country.

“It was complicated, reaching the border, because the confrontation lines were so fluid,” Wiley recalled. “And there were multiple bodies who were overtly hostile to cija”—not only the regime but also a growing number of extremist groups who were suspicious of anyone working for a Western N.G.O. During the first document extraction, a courier was shot and injured. During the next, another courier vanished with a suitcase full of documents. “Just fucking disappeared,” Wiley said. “Probably thought he could sell them.” Mustafa recruited a cousin to transport some files to Turkey. But, after the delivery, on the way back to Al-Rastan, the cousin took a minibus, and the vehicle was ambushed by regime troops. “He was shot, but it was unclear if he was wounded or dead when they took him away,” another Syrian cija investigator, whom I’ll call Omar, told me. For the next several weeks, regime agents blackmailed Mustafa, saying that for twenty thousand dollars they would release his cousin from custody. But, when Mustafa asked for proof of life, they failed to provide it—suggesting that the cousin had already died in custody.

By now, Wiley had issued new orders for the extraction process. “I said, ‘O.K., there needs to be a plan, and I need to know what the plan is,’ ” he recalled. “ ‘How are you getting from A to B? What risks are there between point A and point B? And how are you going to ameliorate those risks?’ As opposed to just throwing the shit in the car and going, ‘Well, God decides.’ ”

Saadeddin Spent Much of the next eighteen months trying to organize disparate rebel groups into a unified command. He travelled all over northern Syria, as rebels took new ground, and met with all manner of revolutionaries—from secular defectors to hard-line field commanders. By the summer of 2013, the regime had ceded control of most of northern Syria. But there was little cohesion between the rebel factions, and isis and Al Qaeda had come to exploit the power vacuum in rebel territory. At some point, Saadeddin recalled, he scolded a Tunisian isis commander for arousing sectarian and ethnic tensions, and imposing extremism onto local communities. “He responded that I was an apostate, and suggested that I should be killed,” Saadeddin told me.

In Al-Rastan, a regime shell penetrated the walls of Mustafa’s house, but it didn��t explode. At that point, Rula and the children moved to Reyhanli, a small Turkish village that is so close to the border that you can eat at a kebab shop there while watching sheep graze in Syria. It was also a short drive from the defected officers’ camp, where Rula’s mother and several other relatives were living. But Mustafa stayed behind, to carry out his investigative work for the cija.

“When new areas were liberated, the security branches were raided, and many people took files,” Omar recalled. Some of them didn’t grasp the significance of the files; at least one soldier burned them for warmth. “But most people knew the documents would be useful, someday—they just didn’t know what to do with them. So they just kept them. And the challenge was in identifying who had what, where.”

But, before long, Omar continued, “Mustafa built a wide network of contacts in rebel territory. Word got out that he was collecting documents, and so eventually people would refer others who had taken documents to him.” Sometimes he encountered a reluctance to turn over the originals, until he shared with them the outlines of the cija’s objective and paths to accountability. “At that point, they would usually relent, understanding that his use for them was the best use.”

As his profile in rebel territory grew, Mustafa remained highly secretive. But, from time to time, he asked his father-in-law for introductions to other defected military and intelligence officers. By now, Saadeddin recalled, “I knew the nature of his work, but I didn’t discuss it with him.” There was an understanding that it was best to compartmentalize any sensitive information, for the sake of the family. “Sometimes my wife didn’t even know what I was doing,” Saadeddin said. “But I do know that, at a certain point, through his interviews, Mustafa came to know these defected officers even better than I did.”

In 2014, Wiley restructured the cija’s Syrian team; as deputy chief of investigations, Mustafa now presided over all the group’s provincial cells. “He was very good at finding documents, and he understood evidence and law,” Wiley said. “But he was also respected by his peers. And he had a natural empathy, which translated into him being a very good interviewer” of victims and perpetrators alike. According to Omar, Mustafa often cut short his appearances at social gatherings, citing family or work. “I know it’s a cliché, but he really was a family guy,” Wiley told me. “But where he excelled in our view—because we don’t need a bunch of good family guys, to be blunt—is that he could execute.”

That July, Assad’s General Intelligence Directorate apparently learned of the cija’s activities, long before the group had been named in the press. In a document that was sent to at least ten intelligence branches—and which was later captured by the cija—the directorate identified Mustafa as “vice-chairman” of the group, and also listed the names of the leading investigators within each of the cija’s governorate cells. At the bottom of the document, the head of the directorate handwrote orders to “arrest them along with their collaborators.”

By now, Western governments, which had pledged to support secular opposition groups, found the situation in northern Syria unpalatable; there was no way to guarantee that weapons given to a secular armed faction would not end up in jihadi hands. Saadeddin had begun to lose hope in the revolution—a sentiment that grew only stronger when Assad’s forces killed more than a thousand civilians with sarin gas, and the Obama Administration backed away from its “red-line” warning of retaliation. “At that point, I lost all faith in the international community,” Saadeddin told me. “I felt that they didn’t want Syria to become liberated—they wanted Syria to stay as it was.” He moved into the defected officers’ camp in southern Turkey, where he remained—feeling “rotten,” consumed by a sense of impotence and frustration—for most of the next decade.

I First Came Into Contact with the cija late in the summer of 2015. By that point, the group had smuggled more than six hundred thousand documents out of Syria, and had prepared a legal brief that assigned individual criminal responsibility for the torture and murder of thousands of people in detention centers to senior members of the Syrian security-intelligence apparatus—including Assad himself. In the following years, the cija expanded its operations to Iraq, Myanmar, Libya, and Ukraine. But Syria was always at the core.

“In terms of the opposition overrunning regime territory—that effectively ceased in September, 2015, when the Russians came in,” Wiley recalled. In the following years, Russian fighter jets pummelled areas under rebel control, while fighters from Russian mercenary groups, Iranian militias, and Hezbollah reinforced Assad’s troops on the ground. In time, the confrontation lines settled, with the country effectively carved into areas under regime, opposition, Turkish, and Kurdish control. But Mustafa and other investigators continued to identify troves of documents, scattered among various hidden sites. “We’d acquire them from different places, and then concentrate them,” Wiley said. Omar told me that it was best to keep files as close to the border as possible, to limit the chance of their being destroyed in the event that the regime took back ground. “Mustafa would sometimes spend a week or more prepping for document extractions,” Omar said. “He would sleep in tents,” in camps filled with other displaced civilians, “while he waited for the right moment to move the files closer to the border.”

At the cija’s headquarters, in Western Europe, the organization built cases against senior intelligence officers, like the double agent Khaled al-Halabi, and provided evidence to European prosecutors who were investigating lesser targets all over the continent. In recent years, Western prosecutors and police agencies have sent hundreds of requests for investigative assistance to the cija headquarters; when the answers can’t be found in the existing files, analysts refer the inquiries, via Mick, the Australian in southern Turkey, to the Syrians on the ground. “We wouldn’t tell them who’s asking, or who the suspects are,” Wiley said. “We’d just say, ‘O.K., we’re interested in witnesses to a particular crime base’—a security-intelligence facility, a static killing, an execution, that kind of thing. And then they would identify witnesses and do a screening interview.” When requests came through, Mick told me, “Mustafa was usually the first team member that I went to, because his networks were so good.”

During the peak years of the pandemic, Mustafa identified and collected witness statements against a trio of Syrian isis members who had been active in a remote village in the deserts of central Syria and were now scattered across Western Europe. All three men were arrested after his death.

Perhaps Mustafa’s most enduring contribution to the cija’s casework is found in one of the group’s most comprehensive, confidential investigative briefs, which I read at the headquarters this spring. It’s a three-hundred-page document, with almost thirteen hundred footnotes, establishing individual criminal responsibility for war crimes carried out during the regime’s 2012 siege of Baba Amr, a neighborhood in the southern part of Mustafa’s home city, Homs. Other cases have centered on torture in detention facilities; this is the first Syrian war-crimes brief that focusses on the conduct of hostilities, and it spells out, in astonishing and historic detail, a litany of crimes, ranging from indiscriminate shelling to mass executions of civilians who were rounded up and killed in warehouses and factories as regime forces swept through. The Homs Brief—for which Mustafa collected much of the underlying evidence—also assigns criminal responsibility to individual commanders within the Syrian Army’s 18th Tank Division, which carried out the assault.

“He thought he was contributing to a better Syria,” Wiley said. “When—and what it would look like—was unsure. But he believed in what he was doing. He could have fucked off years ago. We probably could have gotten him to Canada. We talked about it, because one of his daughters had a congenital heart issue.” Nevertheless, he stayed.

Last year, Mustafa bought an apartment on the eleventh floor of a new tower block in Antakya. Rula’s aunt moved into the same building, a couple of stories below. Her parents left the defected officers’ camp and moved into another apartment block, a short walk up the road. A few months later, Mick recalled, “Mustafa said to me, ‘When I’m at home with my family, it doesn’t matter what’s happening outside—it doesn’t matter if there’s a war. When I’m at home, I’m at peace.’ ”

Last December, Mick was visiting Mustafa’s apartment when the floor began to shake. “It spooked me—it was my first time feeling this kind of tremor,” Mick recalled. Mustafa laughed and said that they happen “all the time.” Then he went to check on Rula and the children, who reported that they hadn’t even felt it.

A couple of months later, Mick awoke to news of the catastrophic earthquake and tried to call members of his Syrian team. But the cellular networks were down in Antakya, and it was impossible for him to travel there, because the local airport’s runway had buckled, along with many local roads.

Saadeddin’s sister was dug out of the complex alive; her husband survived as well, but died in a hospital soon afterward, without anyone in the family knowing where he was. On the fourth day of search-and-rescue operations, Mustafa’s passport was found in the rubble. Then his laptop, then his wife’s handbag. “When they found the bodies,” Omar said, “Mustafa was hugging his daughter, his wife was hugging their son, and the other two children were hugging each other.”

Omar spent the next several days sleeping in his car, along with his wife and six children. Thousands of aftershocks shook the region, and, by the time I met with him, a few hundred metres from the Syrian border, he was so rattled that he reacted to everyday sounds as if they might signal a building’s collapse. His breath was short and his eyes welled with tears; Mustafa had been one of his best friends, and he had also lost eleven relatives to the quake, all of whom had been displaced from the same village in northern Syria. Then his young son walked into the room, and he turned his head. “We try to hide from our children our fear and our grief, so that they don’t feel as if we are weak,” he said.

A few weeks after the earthquake, there was an empty seat at a prestigious international-criminal-investigations course, in the Hague. Mustafa had been scheduled to attend. “We can mitigate the effects of war, except bad luck, but we didn’t factor an earthquake into the plan, institutionally,” Wiley told me. Mick coördinated humanitarian assistance for displaced investigators, and, as Wiley put it, “the operational posture came back really quickly.” Omar has now taken over Mustafa’s leadership duties. “Keep in mind how resilient this cadre is,” Wiley continued. “They’re already all refugees, perhaps with the rare exception. They had already lost their homes, lost all their stuff.”

It was the middle of April, more than two months after the quake. Much of Antakya had been completely flattened, and what still stood was cracked and broken, completely abandoned, and poised to collapse. Mick and I made our way through the old city on foot; the alleys were too narrow for digging equipment to go through, and so we found ourselves climbing over rubble, as if the buildings had fallen the day before. The pets of those entombed in the collapsed buildings followed us, still wearing their collars—bewildered, brand-new strays. ♦