#so i've had to resort to putting things on the floor

[lunar-wandering]

i seriously need to move out cause my room isn't big enough to hold all of my stuff anymore and it's genuinely causing problems

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hey, I dont know if you are currently acepting asks but... Please can you write something with Clockwork/Alfred? I'll give you a cookie?

I really love how you write and i cant find fics with this ship

Danny gets a cryptic message from Clockwork the night that he, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are supposed to go on a three-week College tour road trip.

A trip that they were going to use to decide where the three graduating students planned on going to college. Jazz was coming along to ease their parents' worry, mainly as a voice of reason. She had taken time off of work and classes just to make this happen.

It had taken months to plan.

So cryptic messages put a damper on the mood. Granted, all notifications from Clockwork were cryptic, but that didn't make this any less stressful.

He had just sat by his bed, leaning his back onto his lower bed frame and mattress, when he noticed the glowing sticker note on the carpeted floor.

"What does it say?" Sam sighs, closing her suitcase. She was kneeling a few feet away from him, double-checking their luggage. "A warning about the trip? Insight of an upcoming trial? Oh, let me guess, one of us is pregnant?."

"It's me, isn't it?" Tuck asks from where he's lying on Danny's bed. He places a hand under his chin with a sigh. "I've noticed a glow in my reflection lately. Danny, you're the Father."

"Shut it, Tuck." Danny laughs, turning the glowing sticky note over. "It just has an address, a date, and a time. Nothing else. I think he wants us to go there when the day comes."

Jazz walks in carrying a tray. She insisted they all take some bedtime tea to help them get enough rest for the drive. She recently started making her own blends after much research and experimenting. Danny loves it and always begs for a jar of her tea whenever he visits her. "What's going on?"

"We have to add a stop to the road plan," Sam sighs. She takes the black mug covered in white laughing sculls, nodding in gratitude to the redhead. "In one week, we have to go to Gotham."

"That's doable. We'll be going through Bludhaven by then. We would use the following two days to go sightseeing a few cities over, but we can sacrifice one of them to head to Gotham instead." Jazz hums, mentally going over their planned-out map that she likely memorized.

Danny groans, carefully resting the black mug with white constellations on the floor beside him. "I really wanted to see the hot springs resort, though."

"Member next time, Danny." Tuck pats his head while his own black mug- this one with little game controllers- is held carefully in his other hand. "After the baby is born, we'll go again."

"Why are you stuck on the whole baby thing?"

"Danny, that's no way to speak to the father of your children, especially while he's carrying," Sam chided from her corner. "The stress is bad for the baby."

"Please stop."

"But Danny," Jazz cuts in, sitting across from him. She crosses her legs underneath her, and her black mug with white books completes the set. "You should be supportive of Tucker in this very delicate time."

"I'm going to Go Ghost and never come back."

"I knew you be a deadbeat dad," Tucker tsks.

The four burst into impish laughter; the ease of the teasing joke and the calming tea rekindled the mood of excitement, even with Clockwork's glowing sticky note being shoved into their luggage to be revisited in a week.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is the place?" Danny asks again, leaning forward to where Tucker is driving.

Jaz looks around in fascination at the large houses and spacious yards they pass while Sam sleeps beside Danny in the backseat. She just finished her turn driving for seven hours and wanted to catch up on sleep.

Personally, Danny thinks she shouldn't volunteer for the first shift- they set out at four in the morning to keep to their road plan- but he knows no one else would do it if Sam didn't.

Neither Fenton works well before nine a.m., while Tucker needs help seeing in the dark, so he always gets the day shift.

Tucker's grip on the steering wheel tightens as he grits through his teeth. "For the sixth time, Danny, this is where the GPS said to go. I am literally staring at the icon move on the map as I drive."

"It's just....look at this place! It's rich people. I think they call the cops on us for driving through here." Danny defends, knowing his consent doubts driving his bed friend up a wall but unable to stop fretting.

"I don't think they call the cops....but I think we should move as quickly as possible." Jazz advised as the houses started to grow in both size and property amount. "We're almost there."

"Why would Clockwork want us to come here?" Tucker hissed as their old beat-up fan made a turn into a road that had the trees cut into arches above their heads. It was so obviously fancy that the three got highly uncomfortable. Even Sam's house wasn't so drenched in wealth, and this was just the front entrance.

"Maybe he wants us to investigate a haunted mansion." Danny offers, "Since we're in the area and all."

Danny leans back in his seat. He glances over at Sam; upon noticing the blanket she was using had slid down, he reaches over to tuck her in.

It's just as he sits back that his enhanced sight catches the faintest outline of a man in the trees, crouched down on a branch and watching them. Danny's heart spams, but he has no time to react further as the van moves on and the man's figure disappears in the floral.

"Holy shit!" Danny swears loudly, causing Tucker to jump and tilt the van.

"Dude!" Tucker hisses, "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, sorry." Danny places a hand over his heart, trying to calm the rapid beating. "I think I just saw a demon. Pretty sure that's what Clockwork wanted us to investigate."

"A demon?" Jazz whimpers, eyes flickering all over the trees with unease. "Are you sure it was a demon?"

"It looked liked like a one," Danny responds. "I highly doubt some guy will just go around dressed like a bat for fun."

" Great. Just great. A demon, that's going to be so much fun to deal with," Tucker complains, pressing on the gas more. They don't call him out as the feeling of being watched becomes suffocating.

The sooner they're out of the open, the better.

The end of the driveway opens up to a grand manor that would have made any noble Lord green with envy. Tucker drives around the giant fountain, pulling up to the park in front of the stairway of the main entry.

He squints out the front window as he loops before gasping. "Is that Clockwork?"

The Fenton Siblings each press their noses to the glass of their windows when they come to a complete stop. Both gasped at the exact same time and in the same volume at the man who was casually waiting for them at the door.

It's obviously Clockwork, but he's not in the form they are used to. Not the flouting child, not the sticking middle-aged man, or the aged old entity. No, the form Clockwork uses is a man in his early fifties, with the grace of a sliver fox and, oh, not a ghost.

"Hello, children," Clockwork says, walking down the stairs to meet them. The three are staring at him with slack jaws, half out of their vehicle but lingering in their doors just in case.

Sam snores.

"I'm ever so glad you have come." Clockwork continues, his green eyes flickering with mirth. A smile pulls at his lips, causing laughing lines to appear around his eyes, and it complements his warm bridge skin. He is not blue. "Not a moment too late. Punctual as ever, Jasmine."

"I- ugh, thank you, sir." Jazz shutters before getting her wits about her. "Why did you call us?"

"I will be delaying your trip for the next week." Clockwork lifts up a hand as if to stop any complaints this announcement may cause, which isn't really necessary, seeing as none of them can find the strength to speak. "I will, of course, make it possible to make up the time lost. I just need you four to act as my children for the next week."

"Why?" Tucker's voice is barely above a whisper.

"I can only keep this form for seven days, as I am not a halfa, but in that time, I hope to woo a man. He is a family man through and through, so if I can show him that I am more than capable of caring for a large family, it will help me in the long run." Clockwork then shrugs. "Plus, I need an anchor, and what better than four virgins?"

"Hey!" Danny shouts offended.

Clockwork raises a brow. "Am I wrong, Daniel?"

"No, but you didn't have to expose me like that," Danny grumbles.

"Who are you trying to woo?" Jazz asks, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Clockwork's cheeks gain a reddish hue, and the three eyes practically pop out of their socket. They never knew the time god could be so...human. It's jarring. "Alfred Pennyworth. The butler of Wayne Manor, four houses down from our manor."

"A butler?" Tucker repeats slowly, "You, the god of time and overseer of all that is, has been, and will be, want to seduce a butler?"

"Yes. He is the love of my core," Clockwork nods determinedly.

Well, who can argue with that?

"Alright." Danny agrees. "So what's our cover story?"

"Yes, my four children- all adopted- and I have recently decided to go learn about our family roots and visit our ancestral home. Only to remodel and check out the family records, we will be out by the end of the week to our next grand adventure. We are old money but one that faded from importance due to lack of contact with the rest of high society. To remedy this, I will be taking you to high-class events." Clockwork sighs dreamily. "We were invited by the Waynes to a gala tomorrow night as a welcome-back party. There, I will see Alfred."

"Alright. And the demon?"

"Demon?"

"A man in the driveway that looked like a bat." Danny helpfully says, even though his voice wavers slightly.

"Oh, you mean Bruce. Yes, that's Alfred's son. Don't worry; he can not cross our driveway. I put a spell that causes humans to forget why they were coming here if not invited by us. Also, he is not a demon. He is a human who dresses like a bat to fight crime. Bruce's children dress like birds to help him."

There is silence that sounds louder than it should as they all take in this information. Clockwork smiles at him, mischievous and graceful in equal parts as they try to make sense of the weird kid Alfred the Butler has.

"I'm going to need a lot of stress-reducing teas for this week." Jazz sighs.

"We can go buy some for you tonight," Clockwork promises, pulling out a black card and grinning with all his teeth. "We're old money now, darling."

"oh my god."

Master Post Link

[teabutmakeitazure]

Homewrecker

>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader

>Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: drugging, accusation of cheating

A perfect relationship, a perfect home. A life built on lies can never be permanent, can it?

Thoughts

Chrollo doesn’t know why you’ve been acting this way. He had been away for two weeks - okay almost three weeks - but you were completely fine before he left. This time, there was no welcome hug when he arrived home, no questions of how the journey was and no joking declaration of how you were so lonely in the king sized bed at night.

What’s worse is that when he woke up, you were sleeping on the couch. You hadn’t even gone to bed with him, sitting on the table with a cup of coffee and your laptop open in front of you as you coldly shoo-ed him away while you worked in the middle of the night. 

Saying that he’s hurt would be an understatement. But despite all that, he makes his morning coffee as quietly as he can after he took your sleeping form from the couch and laid you on the bed. Perhaps his own courteousness would win you over and lead you to talk to him. 

A few hours pass and he’s proven wrong. The most he gets is a glare from you when you emerge from the bedroom.

It’s afternoon now, and while Chrollo showers, he wonders how he should go about the situation. Having used En just a few minutes ago, he knows that you’re using your laptop again and mindlessly scrolling some social media site. He sighs. This weekend was supposed to be one where the two of you caught up and went out on at least one date.

As the water goes down the drain, he can’t help but visualise his plans flowing away with it.

A towel around his neck and no shirt, he casually heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water and hopes that the teasing appearance he’s put on would make you at least sneak a look. Nothing. Your eyes remained glued to your laptop.

Well, if you won’t notice him, he’ll just make you notice him! He casually saunters over to where you’re seated and bends down. The action is to make his shirtless appearance visible, and when he asks you what you’re doing, he notices your eyes briefly glancing at his torso.

A small victory but a victory nonetheless.

However, the feeling is quickly squashed when you don’t give him a reply and instead continue scrolling through an array of cat videos. Chrollo is more surprised than annoyed. What did he do that made your attitude get this bad with him?

Pursing his lips, he gives up and moves away to the bedroom to dry his hair. If you’re not going to speak to him and make your displeasure so explicitly known, he’ll have to resort to… other tactics.

So, he fastens the apron's belt and gets to work. Even as the dishes clink and the tap water runs, you don't bother looking anywhere other than the screen in front of you.

When he leaves the potatoes to boil, he hears the chair dragging against the floor and turns around to see you standing up.

"I've had enough. There's no need to continue your act, Chrollo. I know what you're hiding and I have evidence."

The declaration suffices to make his heart stop beating for a moment. As you bring over your laptop to the kitchen counter, a million thoughts run in his head.

Did you somehow find out about the troupe? He never left any trails that could lead you to that. Perhaps Shalnark came to see him here in his absence. But he was also sworn to secrecy, so how? Just how deep did you dig to find the information?

For the first time in almost forever, Chrollo feels his heart thrum against his chest out of fear and apprehension. The price he'll have to pay if things go wrong is too much for him. He'll have to refute every single claim of yours and reject every single theory and fact that you may present him. Maybe even throw in some lies to make sure that you don't-

"I know everything, so don't even try to lie to me!"

All Chrollo does is look at you, eyes cautiously watching your fingers hovering over the touchpad. "You do…?"

Frustrated, you let out a groan. "Yes, I do! What's her name, huh? Does she know that you're engaged to someone? Or are you just messing around out of some stupid reason like being afraid of being committed to someone with marriage?"

Her name? Messing around? Engaged to someone?

Did you… did you think he was cheating on you?

You turn the laptop screen towards him, pointing to the display. "I have an entire powerpoint presentation ready, so don't you dare say that I'm overthinking things. I have a list of evidence piled up and I want answers."

Chrollo isn't sure whether he should be flattered over your commitment or intimidated by your ferocity.

"Before I start, is there anything you want to say to me, mister 'I hunt antiques and artefacts for a living'?"

Silence remains in the apartment, only the sound of the potatoes submerged in the boiling water persisting. The two of you engage in a short-lived staring contest, and Chrollo only looks away to turn off the stove. The engagement ring he had presented you briefly comes to his mind and everything makes sense.

You took his frequent absence and lack of communication for him cheating on you with another woman. Why didn't he realise sooner?

"Since you have nothing to say," you speak, voice cutting through the silence, "I can only assume that you're guilty. Well, should I start this presentation and reveal the dirty secrets you've been hiding?"

Honestly, Chrollo thinks that if you found out what the secrets really are, you would repent and pray that it actually was a woman that he was hiding. Nevertheless, since his fears aren't what reality is, he supposes he could humour you as he de-escalates the situation.

"What makes you think I'm cheating on you?" he asks. 

"I think the presentation would speak for me."

He takes a seat next to you, turning the laptop screen to face him. He notices the way you watch him as he silently goes through it, a smile cracking on his face. Your younger sister was right. The ability of a woman to gather and sort out information is quite impressive.

It's when he gets to the end of the presentation that a laugh spills from his throat. He has to put a hand over his mouth to compose himself, eyes crinkling shut as he laughs behind his hand.

"What's so funny? Do you really think this is something to laugh at?" Your voice gets louder, shakier. "Chrollo, this is serious! I can't believe you!"

He waves away your words, sighing as he calms down. One look at you and he feels himself grow even more perplexed. Is the thought of him cheating so horrible that you've started crying? Ah. Who knows what you might do if you find out the real secrets he's hiding.

When his thumb brushes away a tear, you're quick to voice your thoughts. "You're horrible… and mean."

Hm. Perhaps he is. But he's selfish too. Very selfish.

"E-explain yourself. I don't care for any excuses, and I already know everything. Explain yourself and we can talk this out like adults."

He should probably tell you that you don't look intimidating while weeping, but he figures he'll keep it to himself for now.

"There is no room for repudiation," Chrollo says. "You've been very thorough. I'm impressed."

"What, so you're admitting it?" A few more hot tears escape your eyes, running over his thumb before travelling down to your chin. "I should've realised. You were always too good to be true. It's always the men who are the nicest that turn out to be the worst."

Is that what you really think of him? How adorable.

"And if you are admitting it, just know that I already told my sister I'm coming back home tonight. I'll take all my stuff. I don't care what happens to the apartment."

Chrollo can't help but play along for a while. If he can understand your reaction to this, he might be able to predict your reaction to the truth. "And what about the ring?"

"You can give it to whoever you want. I don't want to see it or you ever again."

Hm. Maybe he should actually start de-escalating the situation before you actually up and leave.

"I don't think any of that's necessary," he points out. "You're misunderstanding things. Let me expla-"

"No! I don't want your excuses. You just admitted that what I said and wrote in this ppt is true. There's no more room for talk."

First you say that you're willing to hear an explanation, yet now you refute his attempts? You must be more frazzled than he thought.

"What I admitted was your evidence. I didn't confirm your conclusion. I'm not cheating on you. I never was and never will."

Your tears turn into angry ones as you furrow your brows, voice getting louder. You were never someone who could express anger without crying, another facet of yourself that Chrollo holds great affection for. Though the first time it happened, he was quite confused.

"You're just sweet talking," you accuse. "That's the first thing a person does when called out on their crimes."

"I'm not. I swear on my life." Chrollo closes the laptop screen, making a mental note to close and cover the gaps in his behaviour that you had pointed out in the presentation. "I have an explanation for every single thing, but it can easily be made concise with this. I'm not a hunter and work directly under one. That's why I don't prefer to contact you during work. If anyone finds out, it might cause problems."

"What, so you're prone to making enemies?"

"I wouldn't say 'prone'. It just comes with the job. When you're hunting and tracking things that richer, more notorious people also covet, malice naturally accompanies. So far, being an orphan has led me to being able to do whatever I want."

You purse your lips, thinking over his words. Sure, he did admit being careless with work in the past but ever since he started courting you, he put work at a distance. If there is one thing Chrollo can easily take advantage of, it's your soft heart.

"So you… don't contact me much when on jobs because of safety…?"

"Yes," he blurts out. "I would never want anything to happen to you."

You ponder over his words for a moment, tears having stopped and cheeks wet. As Chrollo brushes away the wetness, he sees your accusatory glare directed towards him again.

"Call Shalnark and give me the phone."

He blinks. "What?"

"I said-"

"I heard you, but why?"

Gently pushing away his hands, you continue glaring. "I still want to confirm something."

Scepticism gnaws at Chrollo's brain. He's unable to understand why you want to talk to Shalnark, but he's in no position to refuse, so he grabs his phone and dials him.

The phone rings once, twice and Shalnark picks up at the third bell. Before Chrollo could utter a word, the phone was taken from his hands.

"Hey boss! What's up?" Shalnark's voice greets him from the phone, but you put the device to your ear.

"Boss?" You look perplexed and Chrollo mentally facepalms. "Hello Shalnark. It's me, [Name]."

"Oh hi there! Long time no see."

"Yeah. Um, can I ask you a few things? It's about Chrollo."

The man in question just knows that Shal is just as confused as he is, if not more. Maybe it's because you're talking to him through his phone, the phone that the boss of the Phantom Troupe uses. Or maybe it's because you're completely oblivious to the identity the both of them are hiding.

"About Chrollo? Yeah sure. Shoot em and I'll answer."

Chrollo makes a mental note to thank Shal for his cooperation.

"Okay," you drawl. "Why did you greet him with 'boss'?"

"Oh! Simple really. It's a nickname that stuck since we were kids. He was a good leader, so we nicknamed him boss." 

"Really? Alright. Okay okay. Next question." You briefly glance at Chrollo before looking away. "How long was the excavation job you guys just finished?"

"Um… almost three weeks? It was kind of long. Boring, really. Chrollo was sleeping half the time. The map we had was a fake, so it got pretty troublesome."

Chrollo listens intently, noting every single lie Shalnark makes up, so that he doesn't accidentally claim anything otherwise in the timeline he created.

"And he was with you and the others the entire time?"

"Yup! Is something the matter? Did he not come home?"

You chuckle, "If he didn't come home, how am I calling you with his phone?"

"Oh… right, haha."

"Alright, last question. What's the relationship between me and Chrollo?"

He can imagine the confusion on Shalnark's face right now.

"You both are engaged. Why? Did something happen? He didn't say anything to you, did he?"

"No no. I just wanted to make sure of some things."

"Are the two of you fighting?"

Chrollo mentally facepalms again. You do not ask a lady who is gathering information about her fiancé whether or not there's a fight. It's simply invasive.

You shake your head, tone slightly confused. "No? I mean… maybe I was the one who got carried away… but to be honest, he did give sufficient room to let that happen."

"Oh, I see. Chrollo can be a little distant sometimes, but I assure you, he talks a lot about you when he's away. Sometimes we get so annoyed we get tempted to call you and ask you to come pick him up."

Perhaps Shal deserves more than a thanks.

The statement throws you off guard, and Chrollo smiles when he sees you fluster. You turn your back to him, supposedly to hide your expression, and answer. "Okay okay. I get it. Thanks for the help, Shalnark. I'll make sure to make your favourite food whenever you next visit."

There's a laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well, I can't pass up on good food. I'm glad I could help."

The two of you exchange farewells and that's when you finally face Chrollo. Lips pressed into a thin line, you hand over his phone without looking him in the eyes.

"Are you satisfied?" Chrollo keeps his tone gentle and soft so that it doesn't feel demeaning. You, however, look apologetic.

"Yeah yeah. You win. I'm sorry for doubting you."

He simply sighs. "And I apologise for creating room for doubt. I'll try and message you more whenever I'm away."

The guilt that may have been bubbling inside you is evident on your face, and you insist on apologising. “I’m really sorry, Chrollo.” Hands together and fidgeting, you don’t look him in the eye. “The accusation was heavy. The word ‘cheating’ isn’t something to be easily thrown around. I promise to trust you more and I swear that I won’t ever-”

“It’s alright,” he interjects. “If nothing, it makes me a little happy that you’re possessive.” Chrollo smiles, eyeing how hesitantly you make eye contact. “Besides, I only have eyes for you, darling. If I could, I would kidnap you and have you all to myself.”

Maybe it’s because to you, he’s joked around like this countless times before that you don’t take his words seriously and simply laugh it off. Even now as Chrollo watches you smile and brush off his words, he wonders how you’ll react when you find out he was in no way telling a joke.

Perhaps you’ll actually scream that time.

-

Chrollo allowed himself three tries to finally take you away. As the questions of when he'll start planning the wedding persist and grow more frequent, he scolds himself to be swiftly done with it. However, as trivial the act of kidnapping and threatening is to him, the more bothersome it becomes when he counts you as the victim.

The first attempt fails horribly before it could even be attempted.

He initially planned to use the weekend your parents were out of town to quietly slip away from their radar. There would be no calls from your mother and no contact with your sister either, thus it being the perfect time to simply disappear.

Unfortunately, Chrollo is woken up by the sound of someone emptying their stomach contents and an hour later, you're sitting in the living room, legs crossed in your favourite swinging chair, and crying as you recount your symptoms to him.

The sun hasn't even risen yet, and you're wide awake, shaking from a fever and sniffling while Chrollo rummages through the medicine cabinet. He briefly considers using your weakened state to his advantage but ultimately decides against it. Something like that would simply upset you further.

He blames your condition on the leftovers you ate last night.

The poor man has to endure two entire days of seeing you weak and sickly, not to mention trying to nurse you back to health just for you to simply cry and ask to see your mother. When the dreaded weekend is over, he drives you to your parents' house. Relief is written all over his face when you seem satisfied embracing your mother.

Chrollo receives a comforting pat on the back from your father in return. With the sight of you finally somewhat relieved, he thinks the trouble of dealing with a sick you was worth it.

The second attempt is thought over when Shalnark is in the city.

He's departing in a few days, so you've invited him over for dinner. Truthfully, you weren't supposed to find him out. Shalnark had come to Chrollo for 'business' and you just happened to ask too many questions about where Chrollo was going for lunch.

Which brings him here, sitting across from his troupe member while you finish preparing dinner. The awkward silence between the two of them is accompanied by your low humming, the two men settling on conversing about random topics when you give them a brief questioning look.

Chrollo almost feels jealous at the treatment you give Shalnark. You cooked the dishes he requested you to, even going as far as to let him taste test. He supposed being off the hook is enough as thanks to Shalnark for playing along during the phone call.

The previous events that transpired bring him here: in your arms while he pretends to read a book. The bedroom is dimly lit and you're humming some song he never heard. Your head rests on his thigh, arms wrapped around them as well while he remains seated. A few moments later, Chrollo decides the pointless reading isn't worth it and slips under the cover next to you.

Now you're the one in his arms.

A happy sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle into him. No words are shared in the quiet bedroom. Only actions. A hand on your lower back, you breathing in his scent and his own vulnerability on brazen display in the form of his uncovered forehead.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep and when you do, Chrollo thinks over his plan. Tomorrow your world will shatter. The home you created so lovingly will be destroyed and a once abundant peace and comfort will become paltry. Things will change and your feelings for him may as well.

Chrollo wills away the thought. You'll come to love him again. It's inevitable. He will make sure of it.

-

The steering wheel is gripped tighter as Chrollo reverses the car out of the parking space. As the restaurant you both just had dinner at goes farther and farther away, Chrollo's resolve also fades. Perhaps today isn't the right day to do this. You look so happy, and he can't bring himself to take away the smile on your face.

Chrollo weighs his options. There's still one attempt left. He could just cancel the hotel reservation he made in the neighbouring city and try again.

But there's only one try left…

Screw it.

You continue rambling about something he was unable to hear, your voice fading into the background as he thinks over his plan. Ultimately, he decides against it. Being cognizant of the sleeping pills in his pocket doesn't make him feel any better.

Sometimes he wonders why he even let it get this far, why he bothered with all this. But when you gently call his name with that teasing smile asking if he's listening or not, he can't help but mirror the expression.

"Sorry. I was listening to your voice, not your words. Would you mind repeating that?"

The subtle flirtation brings easy forgiveness. Chrollo thinks he made the right decision by taking you home and not drugging you. He thinks he'll take that third try, and he must.

The condition he set on himself was that if he fails all three tries, he must break off the engagement and never see you again.

Another two weeks pass and Chrollo finds himself questioning whether being so deep in your family was a good idea. Sure, it made putting a ring on you easier, but it also brought their close involvement. That isn't necessarily a bad thing since he could use that against you in the future, but for now it does irk him to an extent.

Your younger sister sits in the passenger seat behind him as he drives her home. The highschooler doesn't talk too much, and he always finds himself content in her company. However, this time, he has to force himself to conceal his annoyance.

You had phoned Chrollo while he was out gathering information and asked him to drop her home. Had she not missed the bus home, he would have been home with you at this very moment. Perhaps her apologetic behaviour suffices to gain Chrollo's forgiveness.

She leaves the car with another apology and a thank you, prompting Chrollo to swiftly drive home to you. The hat covering his head and forehead is immediately taken off as soon as he steps foot inside, and he relaxes when he smells food on the stove. Is this really what he’s attracted to? Homeliness?

No wonder he's grown so attached to you. Even now as you hug him in greeting, Chrollo has to force himself to separate from you physically. 

Dinner is slow, comfortable and fulfilling. The two of you next watch a movie, one where you scowled whenever he let his hands wander and scolded him to 'watch the darn psychological thriller!' as you paid great attention to it. 

Nighttime brings rest, and Chrollo thinks over his options again while you remain in deep sleep next to him. He goes through several possibilities, numerous possible reactions and a plethora of ways he could subdue each and every one of them.

When he ultimately slips into slumber, he does so with a newfound determination to finally get done with what he wants to do.

-

The sound of giggles follow when what he assumes to be a shirt is thrown at him. In his line of sight, you stand near the doorframe of the bedroom, eyes crinkling as your laughter dies down. Chrollo finds himself wearing a similar expression. A few drops of water drip from the tips of his hair and onto his shoulder and the floor as he slowly steps your way.

He notices your eyes briefly resting on his bare chest before they make eye contact, but before he can tease you, you're already playfully shoving him away.

"Get dressed!" You turn on your heel, aiming to head to the living room. "Geez, I don't know why you like being shirtless so much."

Before he could stop himself, a reply had already left his mouth. "Perhaps it's because a special someone's eyes like the sight. Or am I mistaken?"

No response. He takes your back turned to him and your sigh as you being done with his jokes and chuckles before heading to dry his hair and getting dressed. 

It doesn't come as a surprise to him that you help do the former.

In all honesty, Chrollo finds this sort of everyday life with you calming. He feels at home, content even. With one hundred percent confidence he can declare that this kind of lifestyle is where he never will belong, but he knows deep down that he enjoys it.

Perhaps it's the irony that draws him to it.

Tonight, Chrollo asks to be allowed to prepare dinner. His culinary skills are, at first, questioned but you give your permission and somewhat begrudgingly seat yourself in the living room, back turned to whatever he's doing in the kitchen.

It takes some time but Chrollo ends up cooking a decent meal. Okay, so maybe the meat is a bit overcooked and maybe he ended up using a little more salt than necessary but it's edible and you don't seem to complain about the taste.

In fact, you complimented his attempts, claiming that he's gotten better now that he started following actual recipes instead of freestyling. The positive feedback makes Chrollo happy, but his smiling eyes turn into cautious ones when he sees you grab your drink to take a sip.

He watches the drink go down your throat, and how you immediately after lean forward with your face resting on your hands.

The sound of the TV turns into background noise when he later gets up to clear the table. He can feel your eyes on him but the gaze isn't malicious or watchful. It's rather affectionate. Chrollo tries not to dwell on that too long, but his attempt is of no use. You call his name, hands making grabbing motions to gesture to him to come to you.

The feeling of your warm palms on his cheeks causes him to blink at you in question, but you continue smiling. Your next words, however, throw Chrollo off.

"Your eyes are beautiful."

His replies are silenced, you seemingly not done with what you have to say.

"They're big and innocent. I could stare into them all day and still want to look at them more."

Your thumbs brush his cheeks, and his eyes curiously stare back into yours.

"Such beautiful eyes but there's still a bit of… melancholy behind them. I… want to erase that sadness. I want… to see a day when this sadness behind them doesn't exist anymore."

Something changes in your eyes, and Chrollo can't pinpoint whether it's from the drink or your emotions.

"I want to make you happy again, erase whatever cruelties happened to you."

Your eyelids get heavy. The sight added with your words stirs a number of emotions in Chrollo's chest, but he remains quiet even as your words become confused and your hold on his face loosens.

"It's… I don't…"

Brows furrow as you try to understand what's happening but your words simply slur together.

"Cho… llo…"

The hands that were tenderly holding his face fall and he watches consciousness slowly slither away from you.

"Light… head…"

A loud thunk accompanies the fall of your head to the table. The static of the TV starts to make his ears ring, but it does grant him a moment of clarity to realise that his vision is blurry. The tears responsible are blinked away and as they run down his cheeks, Chrollo realises that his cheeks were already wet.

He stares at the wetness on your palms and then at your unconscious form. It's done.

The home has been destroyed.

[babyhatesreality]

How about daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in babyspace and petie is very protective over her and they go to the avenger tower and when any other that her daddies trying to touch her he goes in the way and stop them and is like "nooo u can't Touch her she's too little" and everybody is like awww 🥺 after like 10 min or something the other littles wanna play with petie and you but he says "noo I play with y/n she's too little to play" and the reader always hold one of petie hands and in the other hand she holds a blankie and she gives him always a paci kiss and cling to him and her daddies 🥺😭💖

Hello dearest Nonnie! Oh, great thoughts in babyspace! I've gotten several similar requests recently, so here's my headcanon for Baby Space for all of it. Thank you for reading, sending you love! <3

it wasn't often that you'd go into Baby Space, usually preferring to be a bit older, but when you did, boy, you went hard (as per usual with you)

you'd regress to non-verbal, or non-WORDS is more accurate. You loved to make sounds; you just didn't want to make words.

Bucky would become "dadadadadadadadada" and Steve would become "pop pop pop pop pop pop pop" until you ran out of air or until you started giggling.

Your giggle in baby space was softer and sweeter than your regular giggle. Even though Steve and Bucky loved you unconditionally in any headspace, there was something a little magical about hearing your sweet laughter in baby space.

You would want to be carried all the time.

You made grabby hands, or simply latched onto the closest finger, shirt, arm, whatever was within your grasp, and absolutely refused to let go.

Steve and Bucky loved it. Steve would get a brief reprise from constantly reminding you to stop running everywhere and would absolutely not admit to himself he missed the constant thump-thump-thump of your little feet. Bucky loved having you in his arms because it meant you were constantly safe and would absolutely not admit to himself he missed when you used him as your personal jungle gym.

You wouldn't take your paci out for anything. Once that thing went into your mouth, it was a battle to get it out to brush your teeth or get you to eat.

You'd get hungry but refuse to take it out, often resorting to tears, but Steve and Bucky had a few tricks to get you to relinquish it. You would start to cry, they'd make a bottle to get something into your system, and Bucky would employ his lightning quick reflexes that he used when trimming your nails to watch for the second your lips parted enough to cry, swapping out the paci for the bottle before you could realize it. The second you tasted milk, you settled down happily.

you would become wildly obsessed with the smallest details. A goldfish cracker once kept you occupied for an hour as you stared at it, slowly moving it around the small plastic plate in front of you. Bucky got an entire report done while you were on his lap staring at a freaking cracker.

You played constantly with the front of Steve's tee shirt when you were in his arms, running your fingers back and forth over it, grabbing it and stretching it towards you to put in your mouth. Steve had a separate collection of shirts for when you were in baby space, as you had a tendency to stretch his regular ones on these days.

There was no way that they would leave you with anyone else at home, and so you went to work with them on these days.

No one on the team minded at all- every Little had baby space time, and so the work floors of the Tower had a special nursery for such occasions.

You didn't particularly care for the baby space nursery, often crying when Steve or Bucky took you in there. It was too unfamiliar to you, as was baby space, and it just all rubbed you the wrong way.

If Steve or Bucky stayed with you in the nursery, you were usually pretty okay, but mostly slept your way through the day (baby space usually came on when you were super stressed or worried, so this was usually the response anyways- to just sleep).

The only times you were okay in the nursery without your daddies was when Peter was there.

If he was in baby space too (also rare, but it happened once or twice), you two would babble at each other and play with each other's fingers. All four of your caregivers would be lying if they said they didn't have videos of the two of you doing exactly that on their phones.

If he was in a bigger head space than you, he was super protective, often taking on an older brother style vibe.

He wouldn't let anyone other than your daddies within ten feet of you, acting like your own personal body guard, declaring that you were too little and delicate to get near. Tony nicknamed him "Spider-Guard" when he got like this.

He chased any other little away, as he and only he knew that you were just a tiny bit scared of any other little when you were in baby space. He was always nice to them about it, but he was taking no prisoners.

If you were upset, he would lay down next to you and rub your back until you felt better, or pat your leg gently. And for some reason, with Peter, it always worked.

Once you had settled down and in to the nursery, Peter would bring his legos over and you would watch him build worlds, absolutely fascinated, as you gnawed on your paci, wrapped in your blanket. He smugly enjoyed your rapt attention during these times.

Everyone got paci kisses. Absolutely everyone. All the time.

Natasha has a picture of Nick Fury getting a paci kiss that she fully intends to use as leverage against him someday.

At the end of the day, Steve and Bucky would take you home. You were often exhausted from the day, falling asleep in their arms before you could even get to your floor, safe and loved in your daddies' arms.

[unclewaynemunson]

The sequel to Nancy Wheeler's lesbian awakening has arrived :D

While Robin is out on her date with Vickie, Nancy is sitting alone in her room, using the excuse of doing homework to never get out of there again. She has a history book and her notebook on the desk in front of her, but can't even bring herself to read a single letter. The only thing she's able to do is to stare at the pages blindly, while her mind is completely elsewhere. She doesn't see any of the black-and-white pictures in the book in front of her. No, all she sees is color: Robin's magenta painted lips inching closer towards her; the rosy blush on Robin's cheeks; the sapphire blue of Robin's eyes; the bronze of Robin's freckles...

She sighs and drops her head in her hands. At least she finally understands why she got so unreasonably upset every time she thought about Robin and Vickie together. Turns out it had less to do with her failing to be a good ally for Robin and way more with, well, her wanting to be the one going on that date instead of Vickie. It was jealousy. And it's only gotten worse now that she's kissed Robin and has become conscious of her own feelings in this matter.

She never even thought being kissed could feel like that. With Jonathan, and before him with Steve, it had always felt like she was playing a part. It wasn't unpleasant, she could definitely enjoy it every now and then, but she had always been hyper-aware of the steps she needed to follow, the invisible rule book that told her not to be too needy, or too boring, or too predictable, or too unpredictable. With Robin, it hadn't been like that at all – or at least not once they'd gotten past the part of Nancy's rules and properly got lost in their kiss. It had been equal parts comfort and heat, soft and passionate, sweet and hungry... It had been thrilling, and it had stopped Nancy's brain like never happened before. She wasn't playing some part or doing things because she thought she was supposed to do them. She wasn't even thinking at all. She was simply drinking in Robin's taste and enjoying herself.

And now, she can't think of anything but kissing Robin, while Robin is out with another girl, possibly kissing her this very moment.

She's driving herself crazy sitting alone in her room with her thoughts, but it's not like she's got anywhere else to go tonight. Usually, she'd go to Robin whenever she felt like she was losing her mind, but for obvious reasons, that's off the table now. So she resorts to staring at the books in front of her again, failing miserably in yet another half-hearted attempt to focus on her homework.

And then the phone on her nightstand rings, putting her out of her misery with the hopes of literally any kind of distraction.

She picks it up before it can even ring a third time.

'Nance!'

The sound of Robin's husky voice saying her name makes her heart stumble in her chest.

'Thank God you're home. Can I come over?'

***

The doorbell rings four times in rapid succession. Nancy can clearly envision her father downstairs in his armchair, rolling his eyes from behind his newspaper. It makes her chuckle to herself while she rushes down the stairs.

'What's wrong?' Nancy asks as soon as she has swung the door open: Robin is looking... distressed is probably the right word for it. She's pale and has this worrying look in her eyes. 'Did things go wrong with Vickie?'

Robin's eyes flash over Nancy's shoulder and into the hall, where the door to the living room is open.

'Not here,' she says in a low voice. 'Can we talk in your room?'

Nancy leads the way up the stairs, and as soon as her bedroom door is closed behind them, she barely has to ask what happened for Robin to start talking, fast and rushed while pacing back and forth over the floor. Nancy goes to sit cross-legged on her bed while her eyes keep following Robin's movements like a cat, never once letting her gaze wander.

'So I was really looking forward to this date, right? I've liked Vickie for ages, our first date was pretty good, Vickie is awesome and hot and cute and pretty much everything a lesbian like me could wish for... I was really excited about where this was going! But I really, utterly, spectacularly messed this one up, Nance!' She continues before Nancy can even ask what happened, words pouring out of her mouth in rapid succession like she's simply letting her whole stream of consciousness spill over Nancy's carpet.

'She's just like me, alright? She just mirrors all my nervousness and anxiety right back to me, and that makes me even more nervous and anxious, and we kinda get into this cycle where we're both going crazy, and I couldn't help but think I need someone who can stop me and set me at ease with reason and logic and preferably some calmness. But anyway, that's not even the point here. We got through the night, and it was not like it was bad, you know, we still had a good time and it was nice and she looked very pretty so it was fine, you know. And then she walked me home and, um, we kissed.'

Finally, she lets a silence fall. Those last two words were uttered softly, with a blush on her cheeks, like it's something she should feel ashamed of.

Nancy now knows that the nauseous feeling rearing its head in her stomach has nothing to do with the fact that Robin is dating a girl. But this isn't about her, so she plasters on a fake smile.

'That's good news, right, Robbie?' she says.

'No, it's not!' Robin all but screams in frustration. 'Because I was doing it right, just like we practiced, I was following all the rules, but... but... I didn't feel anything! When we practiced, I felt a million things, Nance, I felt like I could implode because of all the things I was feeling – and with Vickie, nothing! There was just her mouth and it was wet and I kept overthinking about where I should put my hands because you didn't tell me the rules about that and I – God, Nance, I basically fled inside and smashed the door in her face! I just left her on my porch without a goodbye, I feel terrible about it! But I also don't want to kiss her again and – and – I don't know what to do!' She takes a deep breath, clearly on the verge of tears. 'I don't know what to do,' she repeats, this time in a softer voice.

Nancy pats on the duvet beside her, silently telling Robin to sit down, and Robin lets herself fall on Nancy's bed without much elegance. The movement makes Nancy bounce up and down on the mattress while she thinks about what to say.

'Can I tell you a secret?' Nancy asks her.

Robin nods, looking at her with an expectant gaze.

'I found out something, after our kissing lesson,' Nancy starts to say. Her heart is beating in her throat. 'I – I thought it was all about rules, about this kind of imaginary playbook that prescribes exactly how you should do those kind of things. But I was wrong. And I only found out about that when I kissed you. I taught you the wrong lesson. It's not about build-up, or strategy, or about who should lean in in which ways. It's about...' She pauses, takes a deep breath to push herself to go on. 'I only understood when I kissed you what it's about, Robin,' she confesses. She can't bear to look Robin in her eyes anymore and adjusts her gaze to the blanket underneath her, to her own hand absentmindedly playing with a loose thread in the crocheted fabric. 'I never understood that before, because I didn't feel it when I'd kiss a boy. That's what it's about: feeling things. Enjoying things. Having your heart speed up and your brain shut off and feeling like you want to keep kissing each other forever.'

'Nance.' The way Robin says her name is barely a whisper.

Nancy slowly lifts up her head to meet Robin's eyes: there's a shocked look in them as she stares at Nancy slightly open-mouthed.

'I think that's exactly the difference between when I kissed Vickie and when I kissed you.'

A warm hand curls around Nancy's, sending sparks all the way through her body – like no touch of a boy has ever done for her before.

Nancy can't possibly suppress the smile that's spreading over her face. A warm, giddy feeling shoots up from her stomach to her chest.

'Wanna try again, just to check?' she asks while squeezing Robin's hand.

Robin frowns. 'Try again? Do you mean kissing Vickie, or kissing you?'

Nancy feels her smile widen until it might just split her face in two. She leans forward, not waiting for Robin to take her own turn leaning, but directly resting her forehead against Robin's.

'You're an idiot, Robin Buckley,' she murmurs, right before she lets her lips find Robin's again.

Robin reacts immediately in a way that's nothing like their kissing lesson. It's not following any of the rules, and it awakens something almost primal in Nancy: it's teeth awkwardly clattering against each other, it's hungrily licking into each other's mouths, it's panting and smiling and everything at once.

It all feels so completely different from what kissing used to be like. No rules, no gameplay, no thinking. The only thing left is pure, unfiltered wanting. Wanting to inhale Robin whole, wanting to swallow her sounds, wanting to have their limbs entangled in every possible way, wanting to feel more of her bare skin against her own... It's so overwhelming it would scare Nancy if the wanting wasn't so strong, simply leaving no room for any other emotion.

When they finally break apart to get some fresh air in their lungs again, they're both panting heavily. Robin's chest is heaving, her lips are swollen and her hair is completely disheveled – and she has never looked more beautiful.

A low giggle escapes Robin's lips. 'Yeah, um, I think we should check some more,' she says, her voice breathy and so goddamn sexy. 'Just – just to make sure, y'know.'

'Good idea,' Nancy says with a nod before she leaps forward to press Robin down on the bed and climb on top of her, leaning down instead of forward to find her way back to those perfect lips.

Taglist: @robins-gay-suspenders @au79burger @agathaharkness-simp @notablog4242 @defnotarobot

[eaglyn]

Mr. Crazy and Mrs. Crazier | Dottore x reader smut

Warning: gore, human experimentation, dismantling of a human heart, psychopathic behavior Not proofread

You were just about the perfect being that he could imagine. In his eyes, you were smart, entertaining and downright gorgeous. Normally, Dottore wouldn't think such things about anything he didn't create himself, but you? You were different. You were perfect.

You were a very successful graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya's Amurta Darshan, some even say that you're the most promising student the Amurta Darshan's ever had. That was arguable. On the other hand, it was an unarguable truth that you were insane. You had about as much regard for human life as Dottore, or maybe even less. They tried to change you for some time, after all your knowledge and talent was definitely in the wrong hands considering your usual projects, which more often than not included human experimentation.

Obviously, they failed. When Dottore joined the Akademiya, he heard news of you, and he was intrigued. He searched for you day and night, week after week until you finally decided to see what his deal was, and once you saw his... creative potential, to speak lightly, you decided to teach him all sort of messed up tips and tricks, from the easiest way to disassemble a human body to reconstructing a human body with mechanical parts.

And that should give anyone the understanding of why and how Dottore was kicked from the Akademiya. When they learned of your cooperation with him, they were all but thrilled. In fact, they were mortified.

Dottore and yourself turned into a wicked pair, eventually ending up serving the Tsaritsa, but while he became a Fatui Harbinger, you just remained in the shadows, but eventually earning the rank number 2.5, as you and him practically came as a package deal. You continued working together for centuries.

Unlike you, he had to resort do different means of achieving a long lifespan, but you were always by his side to give him new ideas and help him out with whatever he needed. As such, you went from his mentor to his lab assistant who would sit atop a countertop in his laboratory and entertain him.

Fatui agents would often hear howling laughter coming up from the lab as you two were working on a new project, and could only imagine which part of cutting young humans up was it that entertained the two of you so much.

In reality, you could turn anything into entertainment.

"Why are you holding the scalpel like that? It looks like you're trying to use it as a chopstick." You raised your eyebrows at one of his most recent techniques.

"Criticize all you want, princess, but it's easier from me to cut at this angle. See?" He maneuvered around the current test subject's ribs, attempting to cut her heart out, having a prototype machine in hand.

"Or you could've just removed the ribs? Why are you so afraid to put the device down, it's not like we didn't sanitize everything a few minutes before starting this experiment." You rolled your eyes.

"But we always take the ribs out, and putting them back is such a pain."

"For you. I thought I gave you a detailed demonstration on how to reattach nerves properly. Also, how do you want to take out the heart with everything still in the way?" You crossed your legs, feeling that you've won the debate.

"By taking it apart, of course. The machine is also attached piece by piece, so the lack of open space won't be a hindrance." He grinned back at you.

"Excuses, excuses." With that, you went back to constructing some random trinket out of spare parts.

After a while, he finally managed to remove the heart, taking all the bits in his hand and raising them in the air victoriously.

"AHA! I've succeeded- oh shit..." He dropped one of them onto the floor. He placed the prototype heart down onto a sterile field, along with the scalpel before walking over to you. "Here, I shall give you my heart." With that, he dropped the dismantled pieces onto your lap, staining your pants with blood.

"Ew, you ruined my pants!" You grabbed a few pieces and launched them at his face as a payback.

"How dare you? I give you my heart and you just throw it away? Why so cruel, Y/n?" Both of you break out laughing like maniacs as you continue throwing bits of the test subject's heart at each other.

"Alright, alright, let's compose ourselves now." You said, gathering the bits before throwing them into a jar.

Dottore installs the prosthetic heart and sews the person back up, and after he was done with that, the two of you transported her to a cell.

"Now we just wait to see if the transplant was successful." You hummed in response, glancing down at your bloodstained pants again.

"Oh come on, those are just pants, Y/n." The blue haired man said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"But I liked these pants." You pouted. They were white shorts tailor made for you, and you knew that you'd never be able to get the blood out of the expensive material.

"Well I prefer you without pants, you don't see me complaining." He stepped closer to you, settling himself between your legs as you sat on the countertop. "And without a shirt too."

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him, and he eagerly kissed back, while his hands were already creeping up on your torso underneath your shirt.

"In that case, remove them, Doc." And he just did that. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, attaching his lips to your neck while you pulled your arms out of the shirt, tossing it onto the ground.

You moaned softly as he continued sucking hickeys onto your soft skin, working on removing the belt from around your waist. When that was done, he pulled your pants down, tossing them onto the floor before going for your neck again, meanwhile his hand pulled your panties aside and he started rubbing your clit with two fingers. You threw your head back, moaning when you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, but then he pulled his hand away.

"Oh come on." You said, scrunching up your eyebrows.

"It's not fair if you get all the fun and I don't get any." He said before stripping himself of his clothes and going back to you. He unclipped your bra, pulling it off of your body and tossing it away before hooking his finger around your panties and ripping them off.

He took a breast in his hand while using the other to rub the tip of his cock over your clit, lubricating it in the process.

"Please just put it in." You whined.

"As you wish, princess." With that, he shoved his cock into your entrance. No matter how many times you've done this, the first few seconds always hurt. His cock was big by all definition, almost too big. The length couldn't even fit all the way in, while the girth was so thick that you felt like your walls were being thorn apart each time. He slowly pulled out before going back in, letting you adjust a little before he started thrusting at a steady pace.

You hummed in pleasure, feeling his veins graze against your walls, and it was like a little spark ignited inside your stomach every time his tip kissed your cervix. He continued thrusting steadily until he started to see signs of impatience on your face. Then he decided to speed up, kissing you hungrily before doing so.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth as he was thrusting inside you, squeezing your breast once in a while as well. You were a moaning mess, gripping his muscular back with your hands.

The way he felt inside you was intoxicating. You were addicted to him. Only he could make you unfold this way. The way he kissed you with such lust and hunger, and he knew all your most sensitive spots. He knew just how to reach that sweet spot that made you scream out loud in pleasure each time, and when he'd do that, he'd speed up and start thrusting into you at an inhuman speed right afterwards. You felt like your insides were being rearranged, while he just grunted into your ear, telling you how nice and tight you were, just for him.

After all, nobody has seen you like this. Not for a very long time, at least. And you were only the happier to know that you were the only one that he fucked like this, and the only one that he'd keep in his lap, cockwarming him as he did paperwork or some other task that would be way too boring other wise.

And just as always, now too he managed to time his release to yours, and he moaned out loud as your walls clenched around them while he shot his cum deep into you.

But he didn't stop after that, he never does. He waits until you get down from your high before thrusting into your overstimulated pussy for three more rounds, until there is cum dripping down from the edge of the countertop and both of you are completely exhausted.

Dottore then grabs you by your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, and he sits down on a sofa, where you both take a nap.

At times like this, it's not only the psychopathic hollering of two maniacs that the Fatui Agents hear, but also the way that he makes you completely lose your mind in pleasure.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for how I handle a messy kitchen?

Hi tumblr! I (f, 23) live with 5 other people (M, 20-24) in a student house. (i did not see the house or know who lived in it before I signed the lease, I was desperate for housing in an awful market and I live abroad so couldn't see it before hand) I've lived here for approximately six months and will live here for at five more because I can't break my lease and wouldn't have anywhere to move even if I could. Generally they're nice enough, and if it wasn't for the kitchen I think we'd get along fine.

The house's layout is done so I walk out and immediately see the kitchen. (I'm off a small laundry room to the right of the kitchen, while everyone else doesn't have to pass through the kitchen to leave the house) This means that I am always angered when I see the mess left behind with the knowledge that no one will clean it up unless I do it, and I see this every day.

It is always dirty. Dirty dishes cover the kitchen table (and would cover the counter if I didn't move all of them). Dirty pans cover the stove top, which is orange and brown because of the build up. The floors and counters are equally covered in crumbs, bits of food, etc that no one wipes off or sweeps. (if they do sweep, they don't throw it out and just leave it in a pile on the floor) Don't get me started on the trash cans that are always overflowing and never taken out unless I do it. Everything is disgusting and no one cleans it but me.

I have had endless breakdowns over this kitchen. The first month I was here I wouldn't cook because it made my cry to look at it. I came back after my holiday break a month ago to find it covered in dishes and disgusting to a point that I sobbed in my room and begged my mom to let me come home. All of my things are kept in my room, even when they're drying, and things are cleaned within a few hours of use.

I have asked the guys to clean up after themselves endless times, verbally and over texts no one responds to. I've cleaned the kitchen three times the best I can just to try and get them to clean their own dishes. Each time the kitchen returns to how it was before with dishes everywhere, the stove orange, and the counters nasty. I have tried putting the dishes into a box so we can still use the table but they spill over with no one cleaning them. Nothing has changed, and the last straw today is after someone set off a fire alarm (again) and someone had dropped a thing of spices all over the floor without cleaning it up on top of the table covered in trash and dishes.

No, I don't know who exactly is doing it but I have my suspicions. None of the boys will do anything and they just sort of nod and agree with my complaints (or complain with me) without doing anything about it. They defend each other and I have like no allies in the house, especially against the one who's sexist in a way I can't call out.

I am at a loss of what to do. I've thought about a group cleaner, which I'm looking into and a few others have expressed interest in, but I don't trust they'll pay me back for it and I'm not paying by myself for it. The alternative I'm thinking about right now is throwing out or hiding (not sure where) the dishes so they'll have to use dishware they can throw away. I know it's an asshole move, but I've asked and made warnings. I'm more wondering if it would be JAH or YTA.

Please, if ANYONE has any ideas share. I have no idea what to do anymore and I don't want to make the next five months that I can't move out of miserable. But I need to be able to leave my room and cook without wanting to destroy the house.

WIBTA for resorting to hiding or throwing away dishware and utensils so they have to use disposable trash so the house will be somewhat cleaner?

(and if I am, anyone have ANY ideas on how else to handle it?)

What are these acronyms?

[skylarstarlight]

Okay okay, I got some more ideas.

And yes, they revolve around Jouno and his fighting style.

I personally believe because of his fighting style, in his mafia, Jouno was literally nicknamed as "The Black Widow" since physical enhancements did barely anything so he resorts to his old mafia fighting style — full, relentless body attacks.

And yes, Tecchou as been on the receiving end of Jouno doing the famous Black Widow spin move and as ended on the floor more times than not.

And you ever realize that in the Hunting Dogs, when they have gone off track or done something that affects the Hunting Dogs, weather that be betrayal or what not — their hats or caps or both are usually off?

And Jouno’s hat was off because he betrayed Fukuchi when he declined the offer but his cape stayed on since he still clings to the idea of the Hunting Dogs, or some sort of redemption.

Imagine the time that changes.

Imagine he’s well into the Hunting Dogs and all three of them but him get kidnapped on an account with some old bad blood from a rival group. Like it’s the moment when that switch happens, when he puts aside Jouno. His sadistic habits, his temper, his teasing, everything. And simply lets Black Widow take control.

Like he ditches his cape AND his hat and ends up clearing the entire building in seconds. There’s also a huge maybe that Jouno is probably dissociating and not really in his head. Like Jouno isn’t even there, it’s just Black Widow. A cold, unfeeling, cruel and brutal, apathetic, strong and mission oriented weapon that is willing to accomplish what he needs too by any means necessary.

And when he finds the captor, he literally takes this guy down with ease WITHOUT his ability and threatens to kill his if he doesn’t hand over the keys to the Hunting Dog’s restraints which also restrain their abilities.

And imagine how concerned Tecchou is. Like Jouno’s voice isn’t as cheery and cold like it usually is — it’s practically dead.

And then after they go back to base, Jouno just casually takes off auto pilot and goes back to normal and tries to avoid the conversation about what happened and says he just “got into a mood” and he’s fine now.

Like he avoids that topic like the plague but nobody is forgetting the amount of dead bodies they had to step over and how silent Jouno was the entire time.

OOMF right in the heart

YES. I am a FIRM believer in something similar to this. Idk the first thing about Black Widow, but I have always had the headcanon that Jouno has moments of dissociation where he's just downright cruel like back in his crime days

Have you noticed how Jouno in general isn't really physically violent towards other people? (Like he does threaten them with words a lot, ofc, "I wish you'd die" and all that, but in general it's the other Hunting Dogs that are the violent ones) The only time's he's actually shown doing physical harm is I think kicking Tecchou in the back of the head in the pushup scene, and then the entire unit is there watching (if I'm forgetting something lmk, not counting that kick in the face in the flashback with the old lady).

What if that's just him not wanting to get too far into the mindset of hurting people? Like when he's interrogating people he'd lock the door so others won't get caught in the crossfire but he's cruel and he hates himself for it sometimes

Because he's shown to have compassion too, this would really clash with him. He only really goes to the point of violence when there's people around that he knows could handle it (aka other Hunting Dogs) or people that actually would deserve the worst in his eyes

Idk just some thoughts I've never really articulated it so apologies if it's kinda hard to understand!!!

[rhoorl]

Week in Review | Dec. 10

Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!

Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕

While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree

Joel Miller

Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!

Mr. Ben

SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable. 

Din Djarin

Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕

A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).

Other Characters

Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira -  This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.

Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!

Posts from the week:

The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon 

@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.

If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered

We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak. 

In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….

Feral corner:

There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.

This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?

@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…

This scene from TLOU forever changed me. 

Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.

Things I watched:

I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.

Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.

Personal Stuff

Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy

Fic updates:

I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆

I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣

This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

Are You Alone 

[xxsycamore]

WEAKNESS OF A GOD

╰┈➤ Scien experiences the effects of neglecting a bothersome bodily need that he couldn't get rid of. Lucky for him, he has a maid who is always so ready to be at his service - not even waiting to hear what this is all about.

Scien Brofiise x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Sexual Inexperience; Virginity; Choking; Come Eating; Praise Kink • wordcount: 2,409 • masterlist

a/n: This takes place fairly at the beginning of Scien's route, but still be wary of spoilers. After having my mind in the gutter throughout it, and now while playing the rest of the routes too... I just had to take a pause and get this out of my chest...

It's not long after the beginning of yet another day of being Scien Brofiise's maid when it happens.

"Ahhhh, how burdensome. I just can't work like this."

The sudden groan of frustration startles you, as you're used to Scien being completely silent while he works, ensuring nothing is breaking his concentration. You pause your ministrations of preparing a plate with the sandwiches you brought for him, turning to face him with concern written across your face.

"Was I being too loud? I'm sorry…"

"It's not about you. Just an annoying bodily function I've yet to find a way to get rid of. I've been putting off the research about this since it rarely bothers me. But when it does, it can be very irritating and long-lasting."

You let out a small hum in understanding, even though… you don't really understand. Scien is a genius; if whatever he's referring to is proving to be hard for him to tackle, then it must be something serious.

"Can I help somehow?"

The sharp rustling sound of paper announces him showing attention by lowering his study papers to meet your gaze. His eyes are as icy as you always remember them to be, his mouth relaxed in a slight frown which you often read as disapproval. It makes you instantly regret your humble suggestion - how can you be so foolish as to expect you can be of help where his diamond mind couldn't come up with a solution on its own?

"You're fast to offer your help as always. You haven't even heard what this is about."

"W-Well, I thought since I'm your maid…that would be my job. To help you out so you don't have to get distracted from your work…!"

Just as I feed you during the day and do things in your stead, you don't say out loud.

The corner of Scien's mouth lifts in a smirk.

"What a good maid I've picked. Come here."

The sudden praise catches you off-guard, as Scien rarely gives you any and especially not before you get the job done. It's almost as if you're starting to see some sudden shift in his aura that you've never seen before. Being around him for so long sharpened your senses to even subtle changes in his demeanor, but at the end of the day he remains too complex to be figured out. It prods at your curiosity, and like the good maid you've been called, you're quick to comply and stride to his side.

He's sitting at his desk this morning, not yet having resorted to using the couch or the floor for maximizing his comfort, likely due to doing more note-taking than reading at the moment. The sound of a chair dragging across the floor can be heard just in time as you arrive next to the desk, and your eyes dart down to see…

Scien having a more than noticeable hard-on tenting his white trousers.

Your mouth falls open and you hurry to shift your gaze away, bringing your hands in front of your mouth and face in an attempt to hide your embarrassing reaction to the even more embarrassing sight.

Scien doesn't as much as move a muscle to hide the obscure display or to soothe your panic. He treats this the same way he treats every other thing in your day-to-day interactions as a master and maid.

"What has gotten into you, are you some kind of a blushing maiden? Well, I suppose you are one, practically."

He puts his chin in his hand, tweaking his calculations as to how this piece of information affects what he's going to ask of you. He helps paint the picture for you, seeing how lost you are.

"As I said, this is just a normal bodily function. Even though I modified my body to remove such useless things that only manifest as an obstacle in the way of my work… It seems like the root of the cause is not an emotion per se. It has to do with hormone shifts that are highly unpredictable and hard to control. Both ignoring the problem and tending to it is a pain in the ass for me."

Scien adopts that mildly irritated look on his face that you've trained yourself at curing to your best extent, and despite the cataclysm going on inside your head, you pick up the pattern of logic in what he's saying. There's always solid logic behind what he's saying, you know better than to doubt him.

Going in that direction of thought, even if you're yet to lower your hands from where they cover your heated cheeks…

"What if someone else takes care of it for you?"

"Eureka. So you're not as virgin-minded as you appeared to be just a second ago."

His words send another wave of hot embarrassment through you, but this time it strangely nestles low in your belly. Your hands awkwardly fall to your sides, fingers twitching a little as if unsure of what to do next.

"Are you still willing to do this?"

Scien asks, and you recognize no traces of impending disappointment in his gaze. He asks you not as a maid, but as a woman.

Either way, the answer is yes.

The nodding of your head must have looked overexcited to him, because he lets out a small chuckle that makes your heart hammer in your chest.

"Well, a good starting point would be getting down on your knees."

Oh. He must have noticed your hesitation and is quick to give you directions… which you follow just as quickly, falling to your knees rather clumsily. You also failed to consider where you're best positioned for that task - namely, under his desk, if you want him to keep working comfortably on his research.

Scien seems not to mind the display of you crawling on all fours under the desk, if not being rather amused by it, judging by the way his eyes follow your every movement.

Out of every daze-inducing imagery that popped up in your head in the short duration of finding yourself where you currently are, the sight right in front of you right now is one you weren't prepared for. Being between the legs of Scien Brofiise as he nonchalantly works at bringing prosperity to your nation, making it look all so effortless as getting pleasured at the same time does little to distract him… you feel like you're servicing a God.

Seeing his hard bulge up close, you fight back your own shameless thoughts and hurry to get started. He must be aching with arousal by now, ignoring it for so long…

Before you can reach out and tackle the unfamiliar task of undoing a man's pants, a larger pair of hands come to interfere. To your surprise Scien does it in your stead, probably assuming that you'll struggle with that part too…

If anything, it only makes you more eager to prove your reliability. Your hands bump into Scien's but you don't let the accident dampen your confidence, as you prepare yourself mentally.

However, seeing his now freed cock is nothing you could've possibly be prepared for - even though you had a general idea of what his genitals are supposed to look like, Scien's size is…

"So big…"

"Did you say something, maid?"

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you shake your head before remembering Scien won't be able to see your non-verbal response, so you mumble something instead.

"It's nothing… please concentrate on your work, Scien."

The ambient noises of him working resume as if to confirm that this is indeed what he intended to do, and you have a moment to catch your breath. The twitching monster of a cock before you remains in its full-mast glory, demanding to be pleasured, and you know you should get to work.

Wrapping your hand around it curiously, you wonder what kind of motion would be best to start with. It seems like your single hand does a poor job of covering its whole length, so you try using your other hand as well. Curling your hands together back and forth slowly, you desperately wait for a sign, anything, that would indicate you're doing things correctly. If Scien experiences arousal, does that mean he experiences pleasure as well? Or would he just reach his climax without warning and then tell you to come out from under the desk once it's all over?

Scien doesn't know this, but you're actually a really bad maid. Instead of caring about his relief, you care for those dirty, selfish things…

You feel his hot flesh pulsing in your hands, and you take note of the reaction. Instead of massaging him, you try different movements, like pumping him, and he seems to like it better. But you're not sure how long you should do this. Scien is probably asking you to fellate him, and if the tiny bits of knowledge you possess about this are to be trusted, then you're supposed to take him in your…

Parting your lips, you find your mouth watering at the thought of inserting his cock inside it. Though there shouldn't be anything pleasurable for you in the act, this is somehow exciting. You wet your lips before preparing to take him in, feeling a bit intimidated by the task because of Scien's size.

As expected, only a small part of his cock can fit inside your mouth. You whimper around it, disappointed in yourself, wondering if this requires some kind of training. Remembering to use your hands as well, you caress the remaining part of his length while simultaneously sucking on his cock.

The sensation is… weird. It makes your head dizzy, to have something that big in your mouth, it also makes you feel full in an unexpected way. You're fairly sure this kind of stimulation serves as resembling intercourse, but you never thought much about the party that does the pleasuring in this act. If your mouth feels this full of Scien, would it be the same in your lower parts? Wouldn't he feel even bigger down there with how tight it is? Can you make him feel nice with your body just like you do with the suction of your mouth? Despite the large part of your focus falling on your upper half right now, the place between your legs screams in neglect like it never did before. You can all but feel your core clenching, and without realizing it, you sync the act of hollowing out your cheeks with it.

If Scien keeps having such troublesome bodily needs, would he be opposed to the idea of you seeking out better methods to help him out?

The thought makes you shiver, and you can't recognize yourself. The effect he has on you has made itself known since the very first day you met him, yet you failed to notice just when you got here, hoping for such perverse things.

And then you hear it - a moan.

"Ahh…"

At first, you don't believe your ears - even with the big mass of flesh in your mouth muffling your own sounds, you can barely keep them at bay, and thus making it easy to mistake it for your own. But the way it rolls out of his throat, hoarse and darkly, you're sure it was him.

With the need inside you set ablaze, you squeeze your legs together and begin pleasuring him with a new vigor, now confident that you're doing the right thing. You want to hear it more - Scien's blissful moans as he approaches his climax. The muscles of his legs are somehow stiffer now, as if he's at his limit, opening them a little wider to allow you to be between them more comfortably. The sound of his pen sliding on the paper goes from consistent and smooth to a rapid screech, as if he's scratching out a mistake, only to die out completely in the next moment, pen set down and rolling across the desk.

"You're doing a good job. Keep going."

There's something urgent in his voice, as if he's trying his hardest to guide you without letting out a broken moan, and it makes you whine around the cock inside your mouth. Knowing that you broke his concentration almost made you rethink your strategy at pleasuring him, so you're a bit surprised to hear him praising you for your job instead of scolding you. You don't need him to tell you twice; you keep your pace, moving your head up and down despite the saliva accumulating at the corners of your mouth and sliding down your chin. You're a bit messy for a maid, but anything that makes Scien happy is the right thing to do.

Eager to make him meet his climax, you don't realize how hard you try to take more of his length inside your mouth, until it's too late.

"Nghhh…!"

Not familiar with your own limits, the tip of Scien's cock hits the back of your throat, making your eyes fill with tears instantly. It seems like this served as the final push to send him over the edge, as Scien groans out some kind of profanity you've never heard before, and spills against your unguarded throat.

"Ahhh….mmm…"

His thick, salty spurts of cum make you choke as you fail to drink them down, and send you into a coughing fit.

While your eyes are tightly shut in an attempt to focus on calming yourself down, you register a delicate touch on your cheek.

You open your eyes to see Scien looking down at you with something akin to worry on his face, that morphs into a content smile the very moment your coughing fit passes. The warmth of his hand spilling through the black glove makes you melt, and you nuzzle into the caress shamelessly. Scien seems to not mind at all, and when you take a better look at his face, another pang of arousal rushes down to your nethers. You've never seen him like this; with his face reddened and his eyes darkened with lust. He's looking at you differently now, in a way he doesn't usually do.

You guess that even Gods have their weaknesses.

Smiling weakly with your teary eyes and with come smeared on your lips, you summon the last remains of your composure.

"You can now focus on your research, Scien!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran  @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @lemeowade Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[riisume]

Not So Tough (Original Characters)

Summary: Elliot McCarthy and Nox LeBlanc don't get along and were put on cleaning duty together and things take a turn.

A/N: I'm trying to draw less because my drive for it is low. But I have given myself permission to write til my heart's content as a creative outlet! So I decided to write a tk story with my ocs Elliot and Nox. I started it several months ago and finished it up today... '-' Decided to post it cuz I feel like this is the best thing I've written ever.

This is a tickle fic! If this isn’t your cup of tea, turn back now. :^) There is also swearing if you don't like that? Idk!

Word count: 2139

Elliot disliked a lot of things.The list of things he disliked had exponentially increased during the time he was spending with The Resistance; The uncomfortable, pitiful excuse for furnishing in their underground quarters, the damp and musty smell that wafted through the halls, the people. The list went on. Charlie had promised that her group would be willing to help “he and his sibling return to their appropriate continuity”, but there was a whole lot of that not happening. Elliot was growing impatient. Especially because instead of being provided a way back home, the two would be put on duty for trivial tasks, which he hated the most.

One of today’s trivial tasks involved helping one of Elliot’s least favourite people in The Resistance tidy some of the rooms; Nox Leblanc. She was bossy, dramatic, and arrogant. A conglomerate of things that the young man found insufferable in a person. He hated working with her. Nox would always act like she was above him and scrutinize every little thing he messed up on or fumbled with and today was no exception.

Elliot was folding blankets while Nox was sweeping the wooden floor that was riddled with dust bunnies. Elliot wasn’t the best at folding blankets, not that he’d admit as much. At home, he’d resort to laying his blanket out over his mattress to avoid the having a quilt pathetically rolled up at the end of his bed. It wouldn’t be long before Nox would take notice of the clumsily folded up covers.

Feeling eyes boring into the back of his head, the blond sighed, already aggravated. Peering over his shoulder, he spotted the brunette woman with that same scrutinizing look, glaring at him as her green eyes flitted from him to the messy quilts. He couldn’t help but speak up.

“Look, if you’re gonna chew me out about how I should be doing something better or about how I’m fucking shit up, just do it already.” Elliot huffed. Nox’s eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed. Gripping the broom in her dainty hands, she stepped up to Elliot, almost challengingly.

“Well, since you asked, I should start by telling you you’re doin’ a piss poor job of folding the blankets.” She started, her tone as hoity toity as usual. “Honestly, Mommy and Daddy did a shit job teaching you such a basic skill.” A look of disdain crossed Elliot’s features. His parents were a touchy subject for him and June by extension. A quip burned on the tip of his tongue. It was a burning that he couldn’t ignore. Throwing down the blanket he was attempting to fold, he glowered at Nox, his hazel eyes meeting hers with an equally challenging look. When she didn’t so much as flinch at his glare, Elliot felt his resolve buckle.

“A-and Mommy and Daddy did just as much of a shit job of teaching you basic manners, huh?” Elliot’s voice shook, his stutter betraying him once again. He prayed. Begged to whatever cosmic or heavenly deity of this world that was listening to not let Nox catch that stammer… The corners of her lips quirked into a smug, amused smile. The gods weren’t listening… The woman couldn’t help but laugh into the back of her hand and the young man felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Oh, Elliot, sweetie. We all already know you’re not as tough as you make yourself out to be.” Nox idly toyed with her hair. He wasn’t entirely sure, but Elliot swore the cocky smirk plastered on her features widened once she noted his visible discomfort. Begrudgingly, the thin blond adjusted the beanie hat on his head before going to pick up the crumpled quilt he threw down.

“Whatever. I don’t even know what you’re talking about...” Muttering and turning his back on the other, Elliot shook off the clumps of dust that wasted no time clinging to the thick sheet during it’s time on the floor.

The taller woman seemed pleased that the bratty boy backed down without much of an issue. She had deduced a while ago that he wasn’t as confident as he seemed after observing him some, pushing buttons here and there, and challenging him at times. It was types like these that were usually trying to compensate for an insecurity or put up a defensive wall. After all, Nox would know how those types worked all too well from personal experience. Though, unlike Elliot, she had perfected her confidence. Solidified her defenses. Not much could penetrate them, much less someone with a weak will like her current cleaning partner.

Nox decided to keep pushing. She was having fun with him.

“You don’t?” The woman canted her head in mock confusion as she crept towards Elliot, dropping the broom she was holding to the floor. “Hm… That’s funny. I recall hearing that The Resistance’s favourite otherworldly, tough brat could be brought to his knees by the lightest of touches…” At that, she reached out, briskly walking her thin fingers along Elliot’s spine.

The reaction she received was far more entertaining than she ever could’ve hoped for; Elliot practically leapt out of his skin, a high-pitched shriek resonated from him that echoed down the halls of the base. He arched away so sharply that  Nox was almost convinced that his thin frame would’ve snapped in half, before he waved his arms behind him in a frantic attempt to shoo the woman away. That poor blanket was on the floor again.

“Agh! D-d-don’t do that!!” Elliot whipped around, immediately shielding himself with his arms. A look of amusement and intrigue made itself apparent on the green-eyed girl’s features as she stroked her chin.

“Aaaah, so the legends were true.” A mischievous glint in Nox’s eyes made a chill run up Elliot’s spine. “The younger McCarthy is suuuper ticklish..!”

Elliot hated that word; ‘Ticklish’ and all of it’s other iterations. It always embarrassed him because he knew he was hellishly so… Not that he’d ever admit it of course. He hated that he couldn’t stop his face from turning a deep shade of red whenever someone asked him if he was ticklish. He hated the way he would be helpless when they inevitably tested the waters. He especially hated the way people would tease him about the noises he’d make while he was trying to fight the urge to succumb to the mirth.

Elliot knew that people enjoyed poking fun at him because of the way he overreacted. He had been told so many times, but it was unavoidable when he got flustered. It was something so engrained in him that he couldn’t fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Sh-shut the fuck up! You just… You just caught me by surprise, okay!?” Elliot huffed indignantly.

“I did? Oh, so you totally won’t react if I just… Tickled you again?” Nox flexed and wiggled her fingers as she began to close in on Elliot. He felt his heart begin to race as he backed away. He didn’t want to be subjected to this humiliation! Should he run? Where would he even go? Someone was bound to ask why he was running down the halls in a panic, then what? Elliot couldn’t just go whining about how Nox was threatening to tickle him, that would be mortifying! He’d rather die! Maybe a retaliation was in order? … No. Elliot was terrified of tickling others, even in self-defense. He knew that would just invoke their wrath further and he’d suffer tenfold.

The most the distressed blond could think to do was attempt and reason with his assailant… Not that he thought she would listen, but he was desperate.

“W-wait, c’mon-! We’re… We’re supposed to clean up and- MNGH-!!” Reasoning proved to be just as unhelpful as he expected when Nox’s fingers began to prod and wedge themselves into the soft divots of his ribs. His arms couldn’t protect him completely. “N-noHOHO! NGH- BIHIHITCH! A-AH!”

Elliot’s eyes were squeezed shut and he could only imagine how wide Nox’s devious smirk was as he swore in between frantic laughter and yelps. Her fingertips pressed into the tender areas of his sides, causing him to buck wildly and twist away from her tickling digits… There wasn’t much else he could do when his back hit the wall, rendering him unable to back away further.

“N-Nox! SHIHIHIT-! Nohohooox! AH-! Quihihit it! QUIT IHIHIT!”

“Hmm…” As she continued to torment the other with simple poking and prodding to the exposed areas of his midriff, Nox hummed in mock thought. “And what if I don’t want to? This is entirely more entertaining than sweeping and folding blankets, wouldn’t you agree?” At the mercy of Nox and his own mirth, Elliot couldn’t do much but shake his head wildly in disagreement. As much as he struggled to stifle and choke back his own squeals and guffaws, they still managed to spill past his lips. Once he started laughing, it was nearly impossible to get him to stop until the person tickling him decided they were finished.

“While it might be more entertaining, there’s a job that needs to be done that you two were put in charge of and there sure is a whole lot of that not getting done.” A familiar calm, baritone voice sounded from the doorway. Nox froze, pulling her hands away from Elliot. The two’s attention snapped to where the voice was resonating from.

She was so lost in her amusement towards the boy that she wasn’t aware of her superior, the right hand and body guard of the leader of The Resistance, leaning on the doorframe, quietly observing the subordinates with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. His large, built arms were crossed in disapproval.

“B-Bernard!” Nox felt her cheeks grow warm. It was known far and wide throughout The Resistance that she had an untamed lust for the man before them. Her normally bossy disposition and superiority complex would shatter whenever he was around, rendering her desperate and vulnerable. Whether Bernard himself was aware of that was a different story. His dark eyes held the disapproving gaze. “I was… I just- Elliot, he was being uncooperative, and I-” At the sound of his own name, Elliot shot a glare at the woman trying to pin the whole debacle on him.

“M-me!?” Trying to regain his composure, Elliot straightened up, patting down the wrinkles on h is sweater. “You were the one who’s fucking bossing me around like always and-”

“Enough.” Bernard didn’t have to yell more times than not. This was one of those instances. Between Nox’s devotion, desire, and respect towards the dark-haired man and his intimidating aura having a solid grasp on Elliot, the duo shut up right away, their gazes meeting the floor. He continued to speak, his voice was leveled and cold. “Frankly, I don’t care what the two of you do while you’re off duty. Have all the tickle fights you want or bicker until your heart’s content then. Not when you have a job you need to get done. Understood?”

“Yes, sir…” Nox acknowledged him quietly.

“Y… Yeah.” Elliot followed up, shifting awkwardly. The larger man’s posture relaxed once the two seemed more cooperative, his arms falling to his sides. Though, the stern look hardly wavered from his features.

“Good. Both of you get back to work, make sure this room is spotless in a couple of hours.” Bernard turned to leave the room with a light and aggravated sigh.

The room was quiet and still until Bernard’s footsteps that echoed down the hall were no longer audible. Nox approached the doorway, peeking out for good measure; He was gone. She looked back at Elliot who was silently picking up the quilt he was fussing with earlier, patting the flecks of dust off it. With a sigh, she returned to Elliot, lightly tapping her fingers on his shoulder to get his attention. He flinched, whipping around to shoot a glare her way.

“Whoa, whoa! Easy-” Nox pulled away. “I was just going to… Offer to help you fold the quilts.”

“Help…?” Elliot echoed in disbelief, suspicion weighing heavily on his brow.

“Y-yeah, just… To get it done faster so Bernard doesn’t get upset at me because I have you holding me back!” She huffed, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks. “Here, I’ll teach you how to fold the quilts. It’s easier with two people.” The boy seemed to relax after a moment when Nox offered her hand.

“Uh-huh…” Elliot knew her change of tune was because of Bernard, though part of him wondered if she was musing over her earlier comment towards him about folding. “Er, thanks, I guess…” He gave her the one end of the blanket.

“Don’t mention it, Tough Guy. Now, just follow my lead…”

[zero00o0]

Quiet pt 4

Cw: mcyt g/t, cursing, fear play, (major) horror elements, (major) character injury, blood, (major) angst, (major?) violence

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3

// OK, I am sorry for disappearing for so long. I should've said something, but to keep it short and simple bad life stuff happened, I had to get more jobs to keep myself up and just didn't have time for social media. Thankfully I'm really close to finishing school now and these past few days I've gotten sick so it gave me time to finally sit down and finish this. I'm not making any guaranteed future promises but I don't plan on staying away forever. At least until I can finish school and get my shit together properly! I'm so so sorry for staying AWOL for months. Please enjoy ^^ I tried to make it more lengthy than I anticipated to make up for the lost time. //

He’s sure that at some point, in his scrambled hyper-energetic mind, he noticed how fidgety and nervous George had been acting while he was in his shop. He’s sure that, even though he wasn’t centered on his clammy hands or sweat-soaked hairline, there was something in him - may that be human instinct or something more profound - that could tell something wasn’t right.

Because if he hadn’t been sure that everything was okay, would he have stopped frantically mopping the juice staining his floor, to make a call that he surely had no business making, because he felt, 'unusual'?

Who knows. Regardless, it was that feeling-driven phone call he made that led him to speak with the county’s entire police force not even half an hour later, regarding the case of a missing vacationer wanted for vandalism and the destruction of private property.

“Like I said, officer; George didn’t steal or threaten my life or anything like that. He just seemed … off. I don’t know how to put it?” Alex struggled to find his words as he shrugged at the big, burly officer towering above him, arms crossed with black shades covering his eyes.

The man hummed and shifted, standing more upright and increasing his height. “Course he seemed off,” he grumbled sternly, “boy just caused a few thousand dollars of damage. He outta be scared. Once we find him he’ll be working for years trying to pay that off.”

The officer glanced over his shoulder towards where his other officers stood around talking by their cars. Then he leaned down slightly, getting closer to Alex's face. "You better not be bullshitting us, Maldonado. I know your history." The clerk clenched his fingers into a fist behind his back. "Officer, I'm not..." he trailed off, frowning nervously. "I'm not trying to imply anything about... 'it'. I didn't even intend to call you, I was just concerned about George. I thought he was sick and called that lady at the resort to connect me to his friends. That's when I realized he was missing and called you to do the 'right thing'." There was an edge to his voice at the final two words. The officer stood back up straight and just nodded. "And it's good you finally have," He said.

"But officer-" Alex was cut off. "Son, I think it'd in yer best interest to stay out of this one. For yours and my station's own sake. Okay? Don't wanna have to take this place away from you, understand?"

Alex bit his tongue and nodded as the cop returned to his car. He disagreed with the man entirely. The officer clearly hadn’t met George in person or had seen him. It didn’t take years of a lasting friendship for the store clerk to know that a little guy like George couldn’t cause damage like that within the span of a few hours. George probably couldn’t do damage like that in a few days.

The sound of car doors shutting pulled Alex away from his thoughts, and he looked over at the source of the sounds. It was Sapnap and Karl, though they didn’t look as cheery nor as rested as they did the last time they met. It was almost intimidating, the manner of the way they approached Alex. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Sapnap looked ready to beat somebody up.

“Hey, guys..” Alex greeted, raising a hand to give a small, awkward wave. Karl gave him a small smile and waved back, but Sapnap didn't bother with greetings as he bluntly said, “tell us what actually happened.” Alex frowned with confusion. “What do you mean? I haven’t lied to the cops about anything,” he said carefully. Karl stepped forward, his tone much more gentle than Sapnap’s as he said, “We don’t think you’ve lied about anything but..” He trailed off, “we think that there are some... elements you may have left out.”

Alex half-scoffed, half-gasped as he just slightly inched backward. “What? What could I have possibly left out? You haven’t even heard my story yet,” he exclaimed. “Then tell it,” Sapnap said, leaning closer to the clerk.

Alex told them everything that had happened from the moment George entered the shop, to him buying the chocolate for Karl, to him leaving in an odd, rushed manner.

“Alex,” Karl began. “I need you to think about everything you just told us. Yes, it was all very off and weird and whatnot.. but was there anything else that struck something in your mind? Something he did that.. maybe you have seen before? Or something you heard that.. maybe you’ve heard on other quiet nights that you try to explain away but.. you know isn’t right?”

Alex bit his cheek as his gaze refused to meet their eyes. “…No.”

“You’ve felt like something’s been off for years now, haven’t you?” Alex looked up at Sapnap with surprise. “That look in your eye, it’s the same as that woman’s.” Sapnap stepped forward and Alex looked away again. “One might think this place is a vacationer's dream, and you see it happen all the time. Happy tourists stopping by, telling you about their sweet, getaway cabins and going on and on, just like us, and you always wanna say something, but you can’t. You think they’ll think you’re crazy, don’t you? But.. you know something’s wrong. You’ve known it since you started working here, but you never admitted it.” Sapnap’s eyes softened for a moment as if he were reflecting his words on an experience of his own.

Alex frowned and turned his back to the Texan. “I’m sorry about your friend, but I don’t know anything.” He spat as he started to leave.

“Alex, please,” Karl cried, grabbing the clerk’s arm. “George is our best friend, he means everything to us, and his fate could be resting on whatever information you can give!” Alex turned to stare at Karl. “Please,” the man pleaded. “Anything.”

The warm hand left Alex’s arm and the clerk sighed. He glanced around a few times before leaning closer to the men. “My grandma told me to never, ever go into the woods alone, especially at night,” he murmured. "As a matter of fact, it was the last thing she told me." Sapnap and Karl glanced at each other.

“And it’s not like I ever wanted to,” he said slowly, his words shaky. “I always felt watched when I went out there.”

…

…

It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep himself from gagging. George turned his head and waved the giant’s hand away. “N-no, thank you,” he managed to say without lurching.

The monster, who’d been trying to offer George a bloody lump of raw flesh from god only knows what pushed the raw meat closer to the human. Using its other hand, it pointed to where its mouth was, trying to explain to George that, This is for you to eat.

George shook his head and finally gagged aloud, getting up from where he sat on the grassy ground to lean over a log, his face green with sickness.

It’s now officially been over a day since the monster - who George prefers to call, 'the giant' now, had kidnapped George from his cabin and taken him throughout the woods of this cabin resort he’d unenthusiastically agreed to go to with his two friends, Sapnap and Karl. For their first hours together, George was dead-set that this giant creature had malicious intentions for him, whether that be eating him alive, torturing him, or doing sadistic experiments. But after it had convinced the human to get chocolate and acted very appreciative and domestic towards him after he did, George wasn’t so sure his initial assumptions were correct.

He coughed a few times as he cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind of the thought of that meat. Behind him, the giant watched with interest and confusion as it took the hunk of bleeding flesh away from George and tossed it into the dark cavern of its own maw. A cold finger brushed up against George’s back, doing its best to rub up and down gently, soothingly. It would’ve felt nice if the giant had any body warmth at all.

The more time George spent with this creature, the more curious it was. Though it had a humanoid body, it lacked key details that, as result, made it very inhuman, like a normal mouth or a normal shade of skin. The tar-black color of its body reminded George of the blackness of looking down at a deep well during the night. It was spooky, yes, but very interesting. Things like these set it very clearly apart from people, but it had so many human-like qualities, that discrediting it as a homosapien all together felt wrong. Besides obvious physical similarities, it also displayed human-like intelligence as well as some sort of emotional intelligence. It had to understand emotion to some extent; if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be mocking a back-rub to George right now to calm him down.

George shrugged the finger away, rubbing his hands up and down his forearms to prevent himself from trembling; partly due to the cold and partly due to the intimidation of something of that size being anywhere near you, let alone touching you. Sure, it’s been over 24 hours now spent with the giant, but most of the time had been asleep and or shitting himself in fear. If he had to guess it’s only been an hour or so since he went to the shop. Just because it was showing George domesticity, didn’t mean he was in favor of showing it back. Quite the contrary. He wanted to go home.

He missed his friends.

The giant, who appeared to have grown bored of sitting around and staring at George, suddenly moved to grab the human and lift him, standing a bit too fast for George’s liking as the human hurried to grab onto its thumb for support. Yet again it was walking with purpose in a random direction, and yet again George was forced to tag along for the ride. Although this time George didn’t want to sit in silence.

He knew it couldn’t understand him, but he needed to hear someone’s voice right now, even if it was just his own.

“I hope you’re going somewhere that has food,” George said aloud, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I don’t know how long you can go without eating but I can’t last that long.” He heard a guttural grumble answer him from within the chest behind him. George sighed, “Maybe I should’ve smuggled one of those chocolate bars for myself,” he said airily, longingly. George sat up straighter. “You probably would’ve smelled it out, though. Wouldn’t you’ve?” He asked, glancing up where its head loomed just a few feet from where he sat. It didn’t answer this time. It was just enjoying listening to its human speak gibberish, George figured. “Where are we going, anyway?”

…

…

“When I was younger, I decided to come live with my grandma and work in her shop; this shop.”

Sapnap focused his sharp gaze on Alex, who was zoned out as he began his account of this place. Though he couldn’t see him, he could also tell that Karl was listening closely as well. (He definitely had that cute, scrunchy face he always made when he focused, Sapnap thought in the back of his mind.)

“I was about 17 when I made that decision,” Alex explained. “Well, the truth is I wanted to come here because I knew grandma couldn’t work much longer, and I wanted to make some easy money. This actually pays pretty well. You know, in one month I make-“ Sapnap cut him off, “Focus.” Alex gave him an apologetic look before continuing,

“Well.. it was after she died, and I inherited the business, that I started noticing weird things. Like, paranormal weirdness.” He rubbed his hands together as he thought for a moment. “But not the kind of paranormal like ghosts.. paranormal like… massive shadows appearing and disappearing faster than you can blink, a loud bird-filled forest becoming suddenly quiet, and.. people.. people going into those woods and never coming out."

Sapnap’s eyes widened. “People? As in… more than one?? Why haven’t we heard anything about other people!?” Alex frowned. “The cops used to try and investigate these cases. But after case after case… person after person, and nothing showing up? They gave up and dusted any new disturbance under the rug. The town has decided that these 'missing persons' are just people doing criminal shit in the woods and then 'disappearing.' The story's different depending on who you ask. The cops tell you that it's a human trafficking ring, while the politicians swear there's a drug empire somewhere out there, all while everyone in town thinks that people go out there to kill themselves in the abandoned lake. There haven't been enough people to come back out of the woods to confirm any of this, so every word is just lost in the whirlwind of conspiracies. The only reason your friend is getting any attention at all is because of the property damage.”

...

...

This place was untouched by man. Even though he was stories up in the air, George could tell that there wasn't even a single plastic wrapper to be found. It was lovely, of course, but... in a way... kind of offsetting. Litter was bad, obviously, but seeing litter was a telltale sign that humans had been present there at some point in time. So, seeing none now confirmed to George that he truly was alone out here. No one else would see him in the palm of this creature, and no one could call for help.

"You, uh, you keep it nice and clean around these parts, hm?" He said out loud. Of course, the giant didn't answer, but that didn't surprise him. Honestly, he'd be more surprised if it did answer. , 'Why yes, I do keep it quite clean around here, thanks for noticing!' George couldn't stifle an amused snicker at the thought of a British giant. How amazing would having tea with a giant with a British accent be?

A clicking sound from behind him took him away from his thoughts. "Yes?" George said in response. The giant looked down at him, its green gaze shimmered at him with excitement as it pointed ahead of them. George followed its pointed finger and gasped. They were standing right before a huge lake. It had to be the most beautiful body of water George had ever seen, shimmering water so clean you could almost see to the bottom. Fish splashed on the surface, and just a little ways away he could see some deer stopping by for a drink. Disney WISHES they could capture such beauty. This scene was the epitome of nature, no doubt.

"Oh my..." He gasped, fighting to find words to fit how he felt. He looked back up at the giant. It was looking down at George with a gleam in its gaze. It looked proud to show George this place. 'Look, look at what I have that no human has! Are you impressed?' And George would've said, "Yes! I'm impressed. This is amazing!"

"You're telling me that no one else is here? Why isn't the resort capitalizing on this?! It's amazing! I'm not even an outside guy and I would pay to come out here! You can't tell me that nobody else knows about this place!" George beamed, antsy to get down so he could see it up close.  But instead of letting him down, the giant held onto George's tiny body as it walked forward, stepping into the water.

…

…

“You said that some people come out..” Karl’s voice made an appearance suddenly. "... so there are people who come out alive?”

“Yes,” Alex mumbled. “Well, no… I mean- My grandma. She’s- She was the only one." Sapnap cocked a brow. "You're telling me that your grandma - and I don't mean to be rude, but - your elderly grandmother went into those woods, encountered the…” He glanced at Karl in brief hesitation. “...whatever’s out there... and came back alive to tell the story, while no one else has gone in and made it out?" The Texan questioned. “I’m sorry but it sounds made up.” There was an odd tone of hopefulness in Sapnap’s words. A hope that, maybe, the giant wasn’t real. That the lady really was just crazy, and he hadn’t really seen green eyes watching from the trees their first day there.

The clerk bit his nails as his frown deepened in response to Sapnap's words. That sentence resonated with the clerk on a deeper level than the two boys currently understood.

Alex sighed, deep and long. "That's exactly what I told her up to the day she died," he said dryly. "Me and my entire family. It.." his voice ached with hurt, "it was like a family bonding activity to ridicule and make fun of her. Like belittling this little old lady made us superior. It always hurt her feelings, and we knew it."

…

…

George grasped onto the giant's fingers as they went deeper and deeper into the lake. The lake only reached the giant's waist, but that didn't seem to upset it at all as it bent down until its shoulders were submerged as well. It let go of George and let him gently float in the water. It kept its eyes fixed on the tiny human as he swam around, enjoying the warm water.

Geroge laughed as he held his breath and went under the water. All around them were fish swimming, surely confused about why there was suddenly a ginormous black mass in the center of their home. The gentle rays of sunshine illuminated the space nicely and presented a gorgeous scene for the human to behold.

He resurfaced seconds later and gasped for air. George was never the best at holding his breath. Last he checked he could hold it for about 25 seconds before he started struggling.

…

…

Karl raised his hand for a moment but put it back down. Seemingly deciding against his initial thought, which Sapnap assumed was to comfort Alex. "Hey," he said softly. "You don't have to go into so much detail if it's too much... we just need to know what's out there, and how she made it back out alive." Alex furrowed his brows and tightened his lips into a thin line. Then, the clerk shook his head slowly. "Karl. I-I…I… I swore I would never talk about it again.” He sharply inhaled a breath of air. “I'm sorry... you guys are cool and I wanna help but..." Alex clasped his hands together and blinked a few times like he was composing himself.

"I... want to help you, tell you what I know, but if those pigs down at the station heard that I was talking about 'it' again, they'd take the shop away from me. They already threatened me earlier." The clerk turned away sharply, his posture suddenly tense. "That's all I have left."

He began to walk away.

But he didn't get far.

Alex gasped in surprise as he was suddenly whipped around and facing Sapnap. He didn't have much time to look at his face before he was hit on the side of the head and staggering to the side, disoriented. Before Alex could stabilize himself, the boy grabbed the clerk by the collar of his shirt and lifted him with adrenaline-driven strength. "Now listen here you pussy," he hissed with venom. "Stop thinking about your own damn self and think about someone else for once!" He shook him a few times, Alex's head lolling back and forth violently. "George is my best fucking friend! He’s all WE have. And whatever you know about your grandma surviving could literally determine if he comes out alive or dead. You've sat by and watched all these other people, just like us, come into the resort and NEVER come back home because you were only concerned for YOURSELF! This is your chance to do the right thing for ONCE and save a goddamn life! What would your grandma say if she knew you were too scared to do anything to help these poor people?!?! What is WRONG WITH YOU??"

"SAPNAP quit that," Karl hissed, pulling his friend backward and away from the clerk, causing Sapnap to let go of his shirt. Once released, Alex fell to the floor with a dull thud, he was whimpering and sniffling, snot and tears running down his face. "Ridiculing him isn't going to help us, you idiot!" Karl snapped.

…

…

He looked up at the giant. It was just sitting there watching him carefully, content with just observing George's behavior. The human smirked at the giant, gaining a newfound feeling of confidence. "Well, c'mon! Are you just gonna sit there?" It blinked at him. Blank. Unreadable. George laughed as he used his entire arm to splash its chin. It leaned back, surprised by the action. George smiled endearingly at it. It could be so cute when it wasn't a potential threat to your life.

The giant lifted its arm and used it to gently stir the water a bit, making a mini water tornado. George yelped as he was pulled with it, though he quickly composed himself and started laughing. This seemed to spur the giant on, giving it confidence. It cooed at him as it stirred faster, clicking in a manner that reminded him of laughter. George tried to swim against the pull of the water, but as the giant's enthusiasm increased so did the speed of the water. George's laughter turned awkward, and a bit nervous as he was swept with the spinning waves against his will. 

…

…

Alex sniffed and shuddered as he got back onto his feet. He was cowering away from the two now, his face an entourage of emotions, most of which seemed to be old and resurfacing from the protective shadow of his mind. Delirium, guilt, shame, fear. If the man had lost any more stability in the moment, there was no doubt in Sapnap's mind that he would've been screaming right now.

"If I w-would tell you, if I-I warn you about the demon in the woods, about the-the missing bodies, the screams I sometimes hear at night, would you believe me?! Would you REALLY have believed me earlier??" His voice shuddered and cracked with a growing weakness. "I've tried so many times," Alex whispered, "I've tried to warn people, I've tried to explain, to get SOMEBODY to believe me!!" He wiped the snot off of his face. "Eventually I just stopped trying. The cops told me I was inflicting terror onto, and harassing my customers." He bit his bottom lip so hard Sapnap was surprised no blood trickled down his chin. "Sometimes people come and leave without a problem.. so I just started to have wishful thinking. Maybe it's all my fault.. for not being convincing enough. For not following my gut instinct and stopping George before he could run back out there..."

…

…

The giant didn't seem to notice the human's change in behavior, though. It just made excited noises as it added its other arm into the mix, spinning George around like he was a pool toy. Nervousness turned to panic when George was caught in the waves with no way of escaping. He was losing strength and was becoming weaker and weaker as he was rag-dolled around in the water, unable to prevent himself from going under just to spin right back to the surface. "Wai- Wait," he cried, but his voice was muffled by the water. He could barely see it, but when he surfaced once again, he caught a glimpse of the wide, empty, sadistic glee in the giant's gaze as it toyed with the human, the being that had no power over it, that it could bend to its will and play with like he was nothing but a toy.

And then George went under.

The rays of sunlight illuminating the lake were gone.

And it was dark.

...

...

"Alex," Karl's voice was a nice calming interruption to Alex's stress and Sapnaps anger. Like a mourning dove sounding over a storm's wind. "We may not have believed you before, but we are here listening to you now and we do believe you. Maybe there is still hope. So please, just tell us what you know."

Alex choked out a whimper as his head fell, his hair falling over his eyes as he tried to calm himself. He sounded defeated.

"I don't know exactly what it is, but I do know that it's big. Really big. Big enough to cast down enormous shadows and tear apart two-story cabins. It has two arms and two legs. It's fast and deathly quiet. Though I’ve never seen them yet, my grandma always said... ‘You don't know it's there until you see its eyes,

And you don't see its green eyes unless it wants you to know that you've been found’."

Karl gasped and Sapnap grabbed his head in panic. Alex blinked in surprise at their unexpected reactions. “Wha-?”

“The old lady,” Karl explained frantically, “the one who you called at the resort. She told us that her wife was killed by a giant green-eyed monster. We believed her but-" “But to hear someone else say it,” Sapnap’s shaky voice interrupted. “To hear someone else say it just… makes it more real.”

For a heartbeat, they were all quiet. Each and everyone one of them was just beginning to truly feel, to truly realize the realness of all this. As if they'd been holding onto a logical blanket of comfort that told them, ‘Monsters aren’t real.’ Now their eyes were forcibly open. There were monsters.

Monsters are real.

Monsters are real, and it took George. It took tons of people like George. Stalked them, hunted them down, and took it for itself.

“Alex, you have to tell us how your grandma escaped.” Sapnap’s voice was as sudden as it was frantic. Once again his hands were clasped around the shirt collar of the store clerk as his pleading eyes stared into Alex’s very soul. “Please, please! Right now! We have to get going and find him before it’s too late!”

Alex clenched his teeth as he held onto Sapnap’s wrists. “The monster’s eyes!” The clerk trembled. “Its eyes are its biggest advantage and biggest weakness. It can’t catch you if it can’t see you. That night when she went in the back to put out the trash and saw them- she threw a can of cola at it and burned its eyes long enough to escape! It never messed with her again.”

The two boys nodded. “Ok,” Karl said. “We have to blind it. But- how and-and where are we even gonna find it, Sapnap??”

Sapnap didn’t answer as he grabbed Karl’s hand and ran back to the car, leaving Alex alone as he watched the two drive back towards their cabin.

Right back towards the heart of the woods.

...

...

A cold shock pulsed through his body, his heart jumped and he let out a half-gasp, half-scream as he jerked violently, his eyes wide open yet unfocused.

The last thing he remembered was being pulled into the dark abyss of water stirring around him violently, confident that it would be the last sensation he'd ever feel.

And yet... here he was. Breathing, albeit with some struggle.

George sat up and leaned over, coughing and choking as he spat out the water that filled his lungs, desperate to get a clear, uninterrupted breath.

After a few minutes of heaving, gagging, and sputtering the Brit was finally able to get a grip on himself and his surroundings. But he couldn’t say he was pleased with the first thing he saw once he looked around.

The giant - the monster - was there, sitting a few yards away from the boy. Its hand was closer to George than its body was, which indicated to him that it had definitely been the source of the cold shock that woke him up. It looked conflicted- surprised. Like it hadn’t expected George to start back to life. Iits haunting green gaze domineering over all other aspects of it, seizing George’s attention. In a way, it almost looked relieved.

But George didn’t care what the giant felt right now, it just tried to kill him. 

His heart raced and his hands began to tremble as he found that he was once again struggling to breathe. He forced his eyes to peel away from the glowing green orbs and to his surroundings. He needed to run. He needed to get away. This… thing… was unstable. It had tricked him into trusting it, and what a fool he had been to feel comfortable around the monster that terrorized him for an entire night- no- that terrorized him since he got here. This thing had been hunting him since he got here! It made him lose his mind, lose his sanity, and make him think he was going insane.

They were back in the monster’s burrow. It looked like he was deeper inside now. He whipped his head around, studying the walls, moss, bramble, and all the different things that were growing inside. Wait, he wasn’t deeper inside. The burrow didn’t go any deeper. His breath came in short gasps as he tried to figure out why he felt different. Why were the surroundings off? 

The giant made a move and George screamed, scrambling backward and looking for anything to hold onto for purchase. The giant froze as George moved away from it. It was making sounds reminiscent of the comforting rumbling it had been making hours ago when it saved him from the bobcat, but the Brit could barely hear it over the sound of his heart racing, causing blood to pump through his veins powerfully. 

He didn’t stop trying to move away until he felt his hand come down on something hollow, breaking it and causing George to fall on his back. He winced in pain as his neck hit something hard and sharp, making his head spin. George was still holding onto the thing his hand had broken as he forced himself to sit upright, his vision spinning and out of focus. He lifted his hand to shake the thing off, but as he looked down, the only thing he could do was scream.

His hand had broken through a worn-down human skull. And as he turned to look around at where he was sitting, he realized that he had fallen right onto a spine. 

His head was spinning, his eyes were unfocused, and his heart threatened to send him into cardiac arrest. He frantically looked around. There were more. Skulls, spines, arms, legs, piles piles PILES. He was sitting in piles of human remains. Dead bodies. People who went into these woods and NEVER came back out. People who saw the monster, and never lived to tell the tale. Dead. Gone. Thrown into a hole and forgotten about forever. Killed. MURDERED.

Cold fingers wrapped around his arms as he violently thrashed, kicking, screaming, biting. He was acting like a feral animal. He was hysterical. George didn’t know what he was doing anymore. It was inaccurate to say that George was even conscious at the moment.

This was nothing but primal human terror fighting to stay alive.

He saw another black hand reach under him and wipe dirt over the exposed graveyard of discarded bodies, covering it up. The hand seemed to shake as well. It had been caught, of course, it was nervous. 

Before the monster had a chance to lift him up any higher George managed to reach a hand onto the ground and grab a fistful of dirt. As he was lifted towards its face, he hurled the dry dirt at its eyes with as much power as he could conjure. 

The monster wailed as the earth hit its exposed pupils. It wailed so loud, so high pitched, George could feel warm blood trickling out of his ears. The pain distracted the monster long enough for George to struggle his way out of its iron fist, fall to the ground, and sprint around, out of the exit.

He didn’t know where he was going. But he knew that his best bet would be the opposite way that he tried before. It had to work. He HAD to find his way back to his friends. He’d run all the way to Florida if he had to. 

He’d do anything just to hear Sapnap’s laugh.

His footsteps pounded on the forest floor, sticks and grass, and leaves were thrown behind him as his powerful steps dug up the ground. The wind felt like thousands of needles pinching his face as he ran through it, his lungs were ice cold with the freezing air. 

He’d do anything just to feel one more hug from Karl.

George cried. He cried for warmth, he cried for rest, he cried for safety, he cried for his friends. He wanted to go home. He wanted this hellish nightmare to be over.

And suddenly the ground was gone. And in its place was concrete. 

George gasped as he fell over trying to abruptly stop. His face hit the hard surface, and he heard a deep crack from his nose, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even register the pain. A road. A road! The road to the cabin! To Sapnap and Karl! He laughed as he threw himself to his feet and stomped on the concrete with glee. His path home!

Or maybe home would come to him.

…

…

Sapnap drove the car as fast as it could go. It could barely make the sharp turns of the backroad at this speed, but they had to get to the cabin. They had to start somewhere. “Sapnap! Please- please just go a little bit slower!” Karl’s terrified voice shook with fear in the passenger seat as he clutched onto Sapnap’s shoulder. “We’re so close…” Sapnap would mumble back. His eyes were glued to the road before them, his thoughts however were miles away. Back in Florida where nothing was wrong. He should’ve just let George play his stupid games. He should’ve just joined him. He should’ve just-

“SAPNAP STOOOPPP! LOOK OUT!”

Karl’s scream snapped Sapnap back into reality as he realized he was racing right towards somebody walking in the road. “Fuck- Wait!” 

…

…

George heard the roaring of an engine coming up from the road. His heart leaped as he turned to wait for it to come. But as he stood with his hands in the air, screaming for attention, he realized that the car was hurtling down the narrow road. He could hear the tires squeaking, the engine roaring with passion. The sounds make him feel scared all at once. Why would someone be driving so fast back here? Unless they saw something…

The Brit became ultra aware of the silence deafening his ringing ears.

His knees felt weak all at once, and he had to strain to keep himself standing. He looked around, his eyes desperately scanning the edge of the trees for that horrible green color, that all too eerie black shadowy form. That’s when the car came speeding down the road right toward him.

All his life he’d never understood why deers would stand so still while a car came right at them. He always assumed it was because they were animals, and animals were dumb.

But this week he’d realized that to that monster, he was an animal. An animal to be hunted. To be found as a prize. And at this moment, he and a deer weren’t really that different. Were they?

…

…

Deafening ringing filled his ears as Sapnap tried his best to steer the car out of the way, tried to avoid the man in the road, but wasn’t fast enough and still hit half of him. The car came to a screeching halt, all too late, and the men inside were left sitting in a fog of shock.

Red crimson painted the hood.

The body lay limp right on the edge of the road.

The car had stopped right next to a cliff, just feet away from rolling off.

Karl was the first to react. He gasped as if he was holding his breath like he had been drowning in the thick tension of the situation. It was the blonde who was strong enough to get himself out of the car, to walk down the road and toward the body. But it was Sapnap who, after following in pursuit at the sound of Karl’s horrified scream, was strong enough to say the word, “George-”

Karl’s wails became background noise to Sapnap. The Texan didn’t even realize that the blonde had fallen to his hands and knees and crawled over to George’s body and splayed himself over his friend. Hugging him and wailing out for help. The only thing Sapnap could focus on was the horrified look on his friend’s face. Like it was a picture printed right onto George’s face. It didn’t look real. He looked like a wax statue. His fingers ran through his hair as he watched red pour onto the green-turning-yellow grass of mid-autumn. He stared until he couldn’t take it anymore, turning around to look at the murder weapon - the car - with tears spilling from his eyes. It was barely damaged. The only thing wrong was that the trunk had popped open, and the shotgun he had packed had fallen onto the road. It was laying right in a pool of blood. The man trembled, losing balance suddenly as his own sobs threatened to escape his throat. 

What. Had. He. Done.

Karl’s screams suddenly got earsplitting louder. So much louder, that it got Sapnap to turn around. His heart stopped beating as he looked up. Up. Up. Up. Up at those green, hollow, evil eyes that glared with a rage readable by any living thing at them. The shadowy body that the eyes belonged to lurched forwards at paranormal speed with inhumane movements. It came out from the trees’ edge and right towards Karl. The blonde wailed with fright as he moved away slightly, but not far enough. The monster put a giant hand over George’s body, blocking him off from the boys’ sight as it used another to hit Karl away.

If it were the size of a human, the slap would’ve been only just strong enough to send a small object a few inches away, but this monster had the strength of a hundred men, and what a flick of a wrist was to it was powerful enough to send Karl right into a trunk of a tree. A snap echoed until it reached Sapnap’s ears, making the boy cringe. A trembling wail escaped his throat as he watched Karl hit the trunk with awful force. It didn’t appear to kill the blonde, thankfully. But Karl definitely wasn’t getting up any time soon. Sapnap’s gaze traveled from Karl to the monster, who was hunched up into a tight ball and curling its fingers around George’s form. There was water spilling from the thing’s cheeks (tears?) that fell and landed on the ground around the unmoving human, staining the road. 

There were a few long, drawn-out moments that passed where he just watched the thing coo and grumble at his friend, almost like it was trying to get a response out of him, to the monster finally noticing Sapnap watching it.

The boy breathed out a gasp as he tried to back away, trying to find his footing, but he wasn’t fast enough. The green-eyed monster got to its feet and pounced on him first. It stood over him for not even a moment before he felt the force of its foot kicking him towards where that cliff was by their car. He groaned in agonizing pain as the giant force flung his body like a dog toy. He landed awkwardly on his back, his head hanging over the edge of the cliff. At this angle, he could see how far down the fall was. It looked like a fall straight to the gate of hell. Maybe it was a foreshadow for him. His last sight on Earth would be his first sight in his afterlife. Ironic.

Sapnap didn’t have enough time to laugh cruelly at himself before a horrible force was placed on top of him. He yelled in pain as the giant dug its foot into his body, but not so much as to crush him at once. It did it slowly. It added pressure every second. The pressure changed, but its haunting gaze never did. It stared down at Sapnap with a quiet rage. Pure evil. He couldn’t breathe anymore. He could feel his life draining.. draining… draining.

He fucked everything up. He killed his best friends. Maybe he was the real monster.

“You…”

A weak voice made the pressure killing Sapnap stop. He was whimpering, his voice straining as he tried to call for help. Suddenly the monster moved away altogether. Sapnap choked in a breath, coughing hysterically as he sat up frantically looking around. It wasn’t until he followed the giant’s startled gaze that he saw what had been the source of the voice.

…

…

He felt no fear. For once in this whole experience, George felt fearless. Awaking to the sounds of his friends crying in pain because of that fucking monster triggered something deep within him. His legs had to be broken. Maybe even his arm. He was losing blood by the second, and there was no way he could be standing right now by every law of nature, no way he could’ve crawled over to the wrecked car. But here he was, standing upright, staring right at the monster as the monster started right at the eye of the shotgun he was aiming at its face.

Its green eyes sparkled when they saw him. Gleeful that he was alive. They made eye contact only for a moment before it realized what George was holding. It didn’t have enough time to react, to move, to do anything at all.

Fuck this monster.

“Go to hell.”

One shot rang and not even a moment later the monster was wailing as it clutched a cold, dark hand over its bleeding eyeball. It screamed and cried with sounds George had never heard it make before. It staggered with imbalance as it fought for purchase on something it could grab- but there was nothing around for it to take as it tripped and descended right off of the cliff's edge.

Relief washed over him as he finally succumbed to his injuries and fell to the ground. Not even a moment later did he feel hands supporting him, lifting him up. “George! George! Oh my god! Holy- I- George you’re alive!” It was muffled by his ears, but he knew it was Sapnap. After a minute he could feel another pair of arms wrap around him. Somehow Karl had managed to drag himself over to the two, as they all embraced with relief and joy. 

George frowned as he held onto his friends tighter. He didn’t want to, but he thought about the monster. Why did it take him? Why did it treat him so nicely, only to try and drown him? George let tears wash over his red cheeks as he sobbed. Maybe it didn’t mean to drown him. It was trying to play- trying to make George happy. It wanted to make the old lady and her wife happy. It left gifts, it played pranks. But it got too enthusiastic and killed her. The monster was shunned and was left to be alone again.

George looked at Sapnap and Karl as they lay on the side of the road, not speaking quite yet but just taking in each other’s presence. He loved being around them, loved it more than even talking to them.

And he realized that that’s what it wanted. It wanted a presence to be around. Company. A nice warm body to hug when you felt lonely, someone to go to when you need something. Someone to have fun with. 

But it wasn’t human. It was too big. It never realized its own strength. Never meant to have casualties. In a sense it was careless. It was greedy. Going back for more people despite knowing it couldn’t contain itself.

But George couldn’t help from feeling sympathetic. Because all that time away from his friends made him realize how much he missed them.

All it wanted was a friend.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: What Kind of Music Do You Like? [1]

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I hold my glasses out in front of me, using the light fixture above to see any smudges on the lenses. 

Frowning, I pull my sleeve over my hand and wipe the left lens, then lift it up to the light again.

No matter what I do, they can never be smudge-free.

I don't normally wear my glasses-- they're a last resort-- but I'm out of contacts and I don't have the money to get more. So these will have to do for now.

I'm startled out of my minor frustration by the sound of Sally Face's reverberating laugh in the living room. His video must have played randomly because one of Ash's old Youtube videos was playing just minutes ago.

The sound of his laugh, no matter how beautiful it may be, makes me want to punch a hole through my wall. Makes me want to stomp my foot like a child. Throw my TV over the balcony. 

It makes me want to physically release all of the hurt he's caused-- but, it shouldn't hurt this much. It's not like I ever really got to know the guy, his words shouldn't affect me. 

It must hurt more because he's hot.

Sighing at myself, I walk back into the living room, fixing the frames of my glasses on my face until they feel comfortable. It's nice to see clearly.

My phone begins ringing, making irritation flare up within me again. I pause, pinching my lips together as I make a b-line for my kitchen, snatching my phone off of the counter.

I've spent my morning watching Ash kick ass at Among Us, joined by Larry, Todd, and unfortunately, Sally Face. So, to say the least, I've had mixed feelings. I've caught myself staring at Sally Face's hands every few minutes and I have to snap myself out of looking any harder. Everywhere his hands go, my eyes follow. 

When he runs his veiny hand through his soft-looking cerulean hair, fixing his fringe. Or when he loses a game and leans back in his chair, huffing out a breath and throwing his arms behind his head. It always gives me a pretty view of his neck, showing off light scars on his jaw.

And my favorite part of that losing position of his? It definitely has to be the tattoo of a shattered sword on the side of his neck. Every glimpse of it makes my mouth water and I forget to fight the losing battle of doing my best to fucking look away.

I bite my bottom lip, groaning in aggravation as I finally answer my phone. Lifting it to my ear, I answer with a harsh, "Hello?" as I push the bridge of my glasses up my nose.

"Damn! Someone piss in your cheerios this morning, y/n?" It's Ash, and she's as chirpy as ever.

It's not her fault Sally Face is a prick. 

Sighing, I put the tips of my fingers on my forehead and close my eyes, "Yea, babe," I murmur sarcastically. "The pisser in question happens to be your awful excuse of a friend."

I hear Ash suck in a quick breath before she hisses, a clear sign that she forgot all about the crappy things Sally Face said in her last video. "True..." she forces out, her voice delicate, soft, and quiet. Like she thinks she's in trouble.

"Seriously," I say, pacing the tiled floors of my kitchen. "Where the hell did you find this guy?"

Ash smacks her lips on the other end of the line. "Well," she starts gently. She stays quiet as a little mewl filters through the phone call.

I furrow my brows, pausing my pacing. "Did you get a cat?" I ask. Ash is definitely a cat person, but I never expected her to actually get one.

"Um," her voice quivers. "Not exactly--"

I can hear another muffled voice in the background, but I can't make out what the person says. Then, there's shuffling and crackling. I tilt my head confusedly as a quiet and distressed, "Hey!" can be heard from my friend.

Is Ash seeing someone?

"Well, if it isn't the infamous y/n!"

My eyes widen and my phone almost slips out of my hands. 

"I've heard that you watch our videos. I'm sure you're pretty livid about what I said during our last Call of Duty stream, and everyone agrees that I owe you an apology." Sally Face's pompous, attractive voice has me in a chokehold. I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue-- for something to happen. Hopefully, Ash just takes her phone back.

His voice sounds similar to his videos, but it's a little different hearing him in real time over a phone call. 

To say the least, there's a blush on my cheeks and I'm unsure of whether I should hear him out or not.

I release a shuddering breath in response to staying as stiff as a board and previously refusing to breathe-- and to that, Sally chuckles. "But I literally have nothing to apologize for. All I'm doing is speaking the truth. I'm sure you understand, right, y/n?" He says.

My eyes narrow for a fraction of a second as an annoyed smile quirks my lips. This asshole doesn't deserve my time and he sure as hell doesn't deserve my attention. 

Instead of entertaining his bullying, I laugh. It's not the prettiest, but it surely is the most psychotic laugh to ever leave my lips. I'm sure he catches my drift at first, but he only laughs back.

It's a beautiful sound. Regardless, it matches the chaos that I put into my own laugh, so it shuts me up immediately. His laugh falls off into a sigh. "Nice talking to you. Hopefully this is the last time. You've left me pretty unimpressed. So, here's Ash!"

I stand still, silent and fuming as Ash's voice suddenly grows louder. Sounds like she's bitching at Sally, and rightfully so. I hear a string of cuss words and growls-- the best that a human can do, of course-- leave her lips before she finally picks up the phone with a huff.

"I'm so sorry," she starts breathlessly. "I have no fucking clue what his problem is. He's normally... honestly... a pretty quiet guy."

I snort, unamused as I wiggle my nose to adjust my glasses-- damn these things-- and answer Ash. "I'm sure he's quiet. Oh, yea. That's completely believable." I say sarcastically.

A quiet guy? That is the most bullshit claim I have ever heard in my life. Sally Face is rotten to the core, a bully, and downright disrespectful. He can be as beautiful as he wants; that doesn't make up for his shit personality. "Put him on a fucking leash." I seethe.

Ash sighs, and then a door closes in the background. "Yea, I've been thinking about buying a muzzle for Christmas. Once was already enough, but twice is really getting out of line." 

It's quiet for a moment. I don't know what to do or say. 

Clearly, Ash and I are on the same page when it comes to Sally's behavior. Doesn't make it right, but at least I'm not alone.

"Anyway," she says sweetly. "I called you to ask how you're doing? We text all the time but I haven't called in like a week. You know I have to hear your voice at least once a week or I'll lose my mind."

I giggle at her statement, starting to feel a little better. Sally can't dictate my feelings anyway. "I'm doing okay, Ash. I'm about to head to work though." Speaking of, I grab my uniform from the kitchen counter and start making my way to my bathroom. "Need to put food on the table."

Ash hums in agreement. "Is the money thing getting easier? Maybe you should look for a different job, y/n. That diner doesn't deserve you."

I shrug, a bit bashful. Ash is the only person I've ever talked to about me and dad's financial problems. "The diner really isn't bad, Ash. They're good to me. I'm just... underpaid."

"So you're still in the same boat?" She sighs helplessly.

"I mean... pretty much," I wince as I admit the obvious. I hate making people worry about me, but I can't lie to my best friend. "If I had more job opportunities, I'd take it. I want to make more money. Dad deserves it. I'd like to get a paycheck, pay all my bills and shop, and not have to cry over my empty bank account once it's all done. You know?"

"Oh, I know, babe. Do you want me to send a couple hundred over? You know I don't mind." Ash generously offers, much like she does anytime we talk about money.

I decline immediately. "No, Ash. That was a one time thing. I still greatly appreciate it, but I was really in a mess that time. I'm a lot more careful now. But thank you, I appreciate it so much. You have no idea." I panic a bit, word-vomit seeping from my mouth before I can stop it.

"Of course," she says. I can almost hear the worry and frown in her voice. It's quiet for a bit before she speaks again, this time her words are a little more enthusiastic. "Why don't you start streaming?"

I'd never considered it before. When I think of making more money, a college degree comes to mind. It opens up a world full of opportunities that I can choose from. I can live and work and just be. But college isn't in the near future either, especially because I don't have the money for it.

But streaming could get me more money right now. You know, if I were to go viral and gain some traction, that is.

In reality, it's a gamble. But the good thing is that I won't lose anything just by trying.

"Do you really think I could, Ash?" I ask, holding my phone to my left ear with both hands.

A fresh wave of hope-- of excitement-- that I haven't felt in a few years makes my heart race. 

Doing something like this makes me nervous. Being so well known. Having people recognize me. Knowing that I'll have to live up to certain standards with people watching my every move and judging every little bit of me is horrifying.

But it's an opportunity to make a difference in my life. I think it might be worth it.

"Of course you can do it, y/n! And you will! You're talented, you love games, and you are gorgeous. I know I haven't seen a picture of you since you were, like, seventeen-- but you can only get prettier. The looks are a plus, but your personality in general is so kind. The world will love you." Ash's voice is so melodic and excited as she speaks. It really starts to excite me too.

I do love games, but my personality isn't that amazing. It could be better. It needs... a lot of improvement. But Ash thinks I'll do well, so it can't be that bad. But my looks? That's different.

"Okay," I say softly. Ash squeals immediately, but I cut her off. "I don't want my government name on the internet though. And I don't want anyone to see my face." I pause, biting my lip and pacing across my living room floor. "Can we do that?"

"Of course we can! You'll be just like Sally Face--"

"Don't even get me started on that fucking guy," I bite out, feeling my face grow hot with rage all over again.

"You're right-- I'm sorry," Ash says, but she's still as excited as she was moments ago. "We need to get you on social media. You'll have to create a new, separate email account that can't be traced back to you with your name or anything. And then we'll make a Twitch account for you and finally get you on Discord!" Ash takes a deep breath, a happy squeal leaving her once again.

I laugh, trying to fight off the huge smile on my face when my cheeks start to hurt. But I'm just as excited, so I don't fight too hard. "We'll do all of that," I tell her, holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder as I start to shimmy out of my sweatpants. I reach over for my stockings and ugly red skirt, starting to put them on. "What name should I go by?"

"Hm," Ash starts thinking. "Well, how have you been feeling lately? I find that creative nouns can sometimes be pretty good names."

One word comes to mind. And the instigator of that feeling is the one and only Sally Face.

"Violent," I say immediately. "I've been feeling violent."

Ash is quiet for a moment. "Ooooookay," she says softly, her tone a little odd. She seems to shake off my noun, as she put it, and asks me another question. "What about colors? What color do you like?"

Shrugging, I pull my phone from my ear and place it on my bathroom counter, putting the call on speaker. I take my glasses off and lay them next to my phone. "I mean... I like purple? I guess? Like, if I had to pick."

My uniform shirt is all black with the diner's logo on the left. It's probably one of the ugliest uniform's I've ever had to wear in my life. But what am I gonna do about it, right? Like always, I pull the shirt over my head and tuck it into my skirt.

"So purple and violent. Purple. Violent..." Ash mumbles to herself. I smile at the way she works through things.

"I've got it!" She says after a moment, her excitement becoming apparent once again. "Violet Violence! It sounds so badass and it totally sets you up with a nickname! It's perfect."

I tilt my head, mulling over the name. It is pretty cool. I like it. "Cool," I chirp as I pull my hair into a low ponytail. "I love it! Thanks, Ash."

"Anytime, honey bunny! What time do you get off of work?" She asks.

I check the time on my phone. It's ten thirty in the morning and my shift starts at eleven. "I won't be back until late." I frown. "We may have to wait to set everything up until next Tuesday."

I really don't want to wait, but my shifts leave me exhausted. It's just... going to have to wait.

"Hear me out, then," Ash says, her voice telling me she's a little nervous but insanely excited nonetheless. "I can create all of your new accounts for you, make a list of every platform that you're on, then send you all of those accounts and your usernames and passwords?"

My heart swells with love. Ash is just so sweet, and I'm so thankful to have such a wonderful friend like her. I don't know what I did to deserve this friendship, but I certainly will never give it up. I'm so incredibly grateful for this.

"That would mean the world to me, Ash," I breathe. "Are you really okay with doing that?"

"Of course, I am," she says sweetly. "I'd do anything for you. And either way, it's just creating the accounts. When you have some free time, you can set them up and organize them however you want. We can link your bank accounts to them. And then you and I can start streaming together!"

"Ash, you'd stream with me?" I ask quietly, my heart ready to burst through my chest at this point. If I stream with Ash, it's likely that I'll really start gaining a fanbase out of this. 

"Well, duh! I wouldn't tell you to start streaming if you'd be doing it without me."

I laugh softly, shaking my head. "Of course you wouldn't. Thank you so fucking much, Ash. You have no idea how much this means to me. I really love you."

"Awe!" Ash coos. "I love you more! I can't wait to start working with you, my dearest friend!"

I smile, tears welling in my eyes. I can't tell if it's because I'm excited or just so touched, but there's a little bit of both for sure. "I look forward to working with you, babe. But, hey, in the meantime, I really have to go." It takes me a few minutes to get to work and I'd rather get there early.

"Oh, shoot! Yea, I'll talk to you later and update you on all your social media," Ash says as I grab my bag and walk out of my door, closing and locking it behind me. 

"Alright, sounds good and thanks again!" I grin as I start speed-walking to the elevators. "Love you!"

"I love you more, gorgeous!" Ash squeals, making a kissing sound before she swiftly hangs up.

I walk to work with a huge smile on my face, feeling like my entire life is about to take a major turn.

Maybe I'm just getting my hopes up, but I know that Ash makes plenty of money from streaming. More than anything, I hope I'm able to do the same. I want to be able to make more for Dad and I. If I can make more money, Dad wouldn't have to work so much or as hard. Making he could get a different job that doesn't require so much of his time.

We could be content.

I skip into the back of the diner, grabbing my apron and setting my bag down. I tie my apron on then get to work even though I am early. There's no point in just staring at my phone-- I have no real friends other than Ash, Larry, and Todd anyway.

I walk to the front of the diner, where everyone is being seated. There's a group of girls that walk in-- four of them. They're dressed in dark colors with beautiful makeup. My eyes follow them as they take a seat in one of the full areas.

My coworker is rushing around the area; she has three big parties and a few other tables. To say the least, she's filled to the brim. 

"Hey, Tess," I say, walking up to my coworker and gently grabbing her shoulder. "I'll take the new group since my shift hasn't started yet."

Tessa turns around, her eyes wide and thankful. "Are you sure, y/n?" She asks, wringing her hands nervously. We're packed today.

"Yea, I don't mind." I shrug, smiling at her. She thanks me a couple more times before rushing over to another table.

I start making my way to the group of four girls that previously walked in, taking my notepad out so I can write their orders.

As I get closer though, I accidentally hear what they're talking about. 

"Yea, Sally has just been in a mood lately. Have you noticed? Like I feel bad for that poor y/n girl who had to face his wrath. That was messed up..." One girl says, frowning as she flips through her menu.

Another girl straightens her posture, intrigued by the topic. "Why do you think that could be? Like maybe he does know y/n personally and he's just not admitting to it? Maybe she did something really messed up."

I wince, debating on whether I should turn around and give this group to someone else. This isn't the day for me to be worrying about Sally. Seriously.

I haven't even started streaming yet and I'm already known by... quite a majority of the population.

I'm not sure how that makes me feel.

As I stand there, a couple feet away, I hear another girl in the group speak. 

"What about Ash, Larry, and Todd though? They've known this girl for so long and never said anything about her. Maybe Sally's upset about that. I mean, they're supposed to be best friends and now there's someone else they never talked about before," she says. "I don't really blame him for being upset."

Sucking in a breath, I hold it and puff out my cheeks. That fiery rage I felt earlier comes back full force. Maybe these girls will never know that I'm the actual y/n, but I can sure as hell show them that I'm a nice person.

With newfound determination, I walk up to their table and click my pen, smiling sweetly at the girls. "Hey, everyone!" I say cheerfully. "My name's y/n and I'll be your server. Can I start you off with any drinks?"

I look around the group, watching the girl who sided with Sally choke on her words for a minute before she shakes herself out of shock. 

They each give me their orders and I walk away, hearing one of the girls whisper, "It's like a fucking sign, Kaci. Stop fucking around with the universe and saying that poor y/n girl wasn't innocent."

I smirk to myself. I've never understood how satisfying scaring the shit out of someone can be-- but I understand it now.

The rest of my shift goes by pretty smoothly, and I get a text from Ash later in the night. She sent me my new email account and a ton of usernames and passwords with their specific platform to go with it. I texted her a quick thank you then got back to work.

Unfortunately, I wake up the next morning at six to be at work for eight. It's my least favorite shift of the week, but it's the shift that gets me the most money.

I lay in bed for longer than I should, staring at my phone screen and scrolling through Twitter. 

My hands tighten around my phone and I narrow my eyes when I come across a post by Sally Face. I forget that before I found out that he's a dick, I was actually a fan of his. I wasn't a huge fan, but I did frequently watch and like his videos. And I also follow him on every social media platform. 

His post is a retweet. Some other big influencer who apparently wants to meet Sally Face soon. Told him to come to... Los Angeles.

I snort at the tweet, rolling my eyes. Sally Face can stay the everliving fuck out of my city.

With a grunt, I lift myself out of bed and get ready for the day, running all the way to work just in time-- a singular minute before my shift starts.

I almost decided to call in sick. But money is needed...

It's an aggravating and slow shift. I guess I can be thankful for the slow part, but all of my customers have been either flirty or assholes. I'm not into either of those.

Not to mention, someone put Michael Bublé on-- no hate to the man, his music just doesn't help the men who can't stop staring at any woman who enters the diner.

It's around lunch time when another coworker, Michael, stops me and asks if I can take over the one customer who just walked in and over to his side of the diner. I had just dropped off a meal when he ran up, begging me.

"Listen, y/n-- I hate to drop this on you but my girlfriend got a flat tire on the highway. I need to go help her. Can you take the guy who just sat down on my side? There's only one other table and Tessa has them. Please, can you cover for me?"

I blink, my mouth opening. No words come out at first. I'm tired of working and tired of these horrible customers today, but I don't mind helping my coworkers. So I nod with a small smile. "Yea, I've got it. Don't worry!"

"Thank you so much, y/n. I owe you!" he says before rushing out of the front door. Poor guy is in such a rush that he didn't even bother leaving through that back.

With a sigh, I walk across the diner to the booth farthest in the back on Michael's side. The person is in a black hoodie, facing away from me. It doesn't really strike me as odd; I'm an observer and many different types of people walk into this diner. If I could bury myself in a hoodie all day, I would.

When I get a little closer, I notice just what kind of hoodie they have on.

It's Larry's merch.

I quicken my footsteps, a little more excited to serve this person now. There's more pep in my step at the reminder of my friend. I'll have to text Larry later and let him know about this.

As I'm walking up right behind the person, I say, "Hey, I love your hoodie! Larry is one of my favorites."

The person is quiet as I walk closer. Only a quiet "Uh, thanks." coming from them.

There have been many moments in my life when I start questioning what I did to deserve some things. Those things could be good or bad-- either way, they always fill me with a special type of dread. A dread of having to handle the moment, or a dread of inevitable bad consequences in the future.

As I lay my eyes on bright cerulean hair and an expressionless prosthetic to match, I realize that I'm feeling both types of dread that I just mentioned.

I pause, my eyes widening as my stomach nearly drops out of my ass. I stare forward into the eyeholes of his prosthetic. He looks everywhere but at me-- my only guess is that he doesn't want to be recognized.

He doesn't want to be recognized and he's just realized that he may be fucked.

What in the fuck is he doing here?

"You've got to be shitting me." I spit out, my voice shaking as I try to wrap my mind around the sudden influx of information. Trying to process the fact that Sally Face is sitting in front of me as my customer is a tough task. 

I feel like I'm dreaming, like this is some fucked up nightmare. Did I get drugged? Is this some kind of chaotic alternate universe that I've been transported into?

Sally's bright blue eyes meet mine, a hint of nervousness in the depths of his gaze. "Um, excuse me?" He asks softly in response to my rude statement, tilting his head down.

I blink at him as my brain finally starts to fucking work. "Uh," I say intellectually at first, going silent for a moment.

He can't find out who I am. He'd have my head. Hell, he might go as far as to get me fired. I have to do anything in my power to just get this over with and move on as quickly as I can.

This is bound to blow up in my face later.

"Sorry, uh," I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I also slap a hand over my name tag. "I'm just... surprised. My bad. My name is... Lexi. I'll be your, uh, server. Can I get you something to drink?" I ask, doing my best to ignore the fact that someone famous is directly in front of me-- someone famous who hates my fucking guts.

"Er, yea," Sally replies, his voice taking on the smug tone that I'm more used to. "I'll take a water, thanks."

I push my glasses farther up my nose then awkwardly give him a thumbs up before disappearing into the back.

My eyes widen all over again as I start taking deep breaths, fumbling through my bag to pull out my phone and call Ash. How could she not have told me he was coming to LA? I feel betrayed-- worst of all, I'm fucking mortified. I only have so long to talk to Ash before this quick water trip gets suspicious.

But what's the point of calling Ash? I already have to pretend I'm a random stranger and go through with this whole thing anyway. Not only that, if I tell anyone about this, it could very well get out. Ash might accidentally spill the beans and I don't even want to think about the chaos that would cause.

With a frustrated and horrified groan, I throw my phone back into my bag and pull my name tag off too. Then, I run off and fill a glass of whatever before slowly and nervously walking back over to Sally Face.

I put his glass down in front of him, all while avoiding eye contact. I pull out my notepad and look down at it as I ask, "Do you want any appetizers or do you already know what you want?"

"Not quite yet," he says politely, shocking me. "But can I ask you a few questions? You can... sit down, too. If you want."

I look up at him, wide-eyed once again. Is he fucking serious? How do I even answer this?

"Um." I point a thumb behind me. "I have more customers to take care of. Sorry." I smile sheepishly.

He tilts his head slightly then leans back in his seat, peeking over to look at my side of the dining area. "But, it's empty over there," he says.

My eyes bug out of my head as I whip my body around to look at my section of the diner. Sure enough, he is correct. Unfortunately.

I turn back to him with a nervous smile. "Oh," is all I say.

Through the eyeholes of his prosthetic, his baby blue eyes squint like he's smiling. I hate myself for blushing at the idea of it.

"It won't be long, I promise. I just don't know much about LA and you seem nice enough. Nervous, but nice." He chuckles, the beautiful sound sending a shock through my entire body.

Instead of saying anything at first, I just slide into the other side of the booth and plaster on a fake smile, willing away the blush on my cheeks. "Sorry for being so nervous," I spit out. Can I shut up for once? "I, uh, just..."

Sally lifts a hand, waving me off. "Ah, don't worry about it. Your reaction told me that you know me. You haven't screamed my name or anything though, so I trust that you'll keep me company and keep my appearance under wraps."

I swallow thickly, staring at him as I nod.

His hypnotizing eyes are set on the table in front of him, his elbows resting on the edge of said table. He has one hand flat on the wood and the other lifted up, playing around with a napkin.

I can smell him from here. It's a tantalizing mix of some kind of cologne. Spice, musk, definitely bergamot. Leather. That's all mixed with a delicious natural scent that he carries and I'm left mesmerized.

More than anything, I'm wishing I never sat down.

My gaze strays to his veiny hands, noting the plethora of black and silver rings on his fingers and his chipped black nail polish. Every time he moves his fingers, the veins and tendons in his hand shift, creating some kind of movement that has me sucking in a breath. I look away just in time for him to push the hood off his head, giving me a full view of his shoulder length, unnaturally colored hair.

"So," his voice is gentle, dominant. Slightly deep, not too deep, and raspy. Addicting. "I'm here for business. Wish I had more time to tour the town, but I don't. This is my only free day, and I only have a couple hours. Any recommendations on what I should do?" He asks.

Sally pushes a hand through his hair, ruffling it around and, thus, giving me a perfect view of the tattoo on the side of his neck. That shattered sword that silently speaks numbers. It may just be some ink to other people, but I see something more.

He's too fucking hot.

I break my gaze away from him. "The Broad," I murmur. "I'm not sure if you like art, but it's an interesting place regardless."

When I have the time, I stop by Los Angeles' museums every once in a while. So far, The Broad has been my favorite. It's so different and unique. I've never seen anything quite like it.

"It's a museum, I presume?" he asks. I look over; his head is tilted down, but his eyes are on me.

"Ah, yea. Contemporary art. It's very different, but a good different." I shrug, struggling to find a place to look. I keep looking back at him, but then I grow nervous and look away-- all to look back at him again.

His presence has a horrifying effect on me.

Sally hums, his eyes squinting to show his smile again as he says. "Okay. And, Lexi, right?"

Nervous shivers terrorize my body and I break out in a cold sweat, doing my best to hold up a fake smile for him. "Yes?"

He hesitates, then knocks my damn socks off. "What... what kind of music do you like, Lexi?"

I gape at him. Is he trying to make casual conversation with me? I thought he just wanted some basic information about LA. What does he think he'll get out of this?

"Um," I whisper shakily. "I like just about anything. Rock is on my list of favorite genres, though."

Sally nods thoughtfully, letting out a little huff. "I like rock, too. I wouldn't play guitar otherwise, honestly."

I've heard him mention before that he plays guitar. He's never played for his fans and never showed anyone his guitar, but he doesn't mind talking about it.

I nod back, smiling lightly. "Yea. Slow songs on guitars just aren't the same as rock songs on a guitar."

"Exactly!" He exclaims, "I've been trying to learn some Atreyu lately."

So he has taste. I perk up. "Oh, yea. That's a good one, for sure. What's your favorite song by them?"

Sally scoffs, stretching his arm across the table. His fingertips are an inch away from me and I find myself gulping down all of the fuzzy feelings the sight of his hands evokes within me. This interaction is making me dislike him a lot less. "Bleeding Mascara. That's the song I'm learning at the moment, actually."

Giggling, I reply. "That's my favorite song by them, too."

I look harder at his hand, noting what looks like a marker line or something peeking out from under the sleeve of his hoodie. The mark just barely reaches the back of his hand, but not quite. It must be around his wrist--

As if he can tell what's running through my head, Sal lifts the sleeve of his hoodie and reveals a gorgeous sleeve of geometric DD Verba style tattoos on his arm. There are a lot of different sharp lines and boxes. A pretty compass, The Thinking Man sculpture, aligning planets, and a medieval knight in armor. It's quite a canvas of ink, but a beautiful one that just makes sense. It fits him so incredibly well.

"Wow," I whisper breathlessly, leaning a hand forward. I pull it back immediately when I realize what I'm doing, petrified by my thoughtless movements. Hey, y/n-- remember this guy wants your head on a stick, yea?

Sally closes his hand into a fist, flipping his arm over to show the underside of it and the other side of his sleeve. "It's okay, you can touch," he says.

His closed fist makes his veins protrude through his surprisingly toned arms. I expected him to be pretty lanky, but it seems that he must work out or something.

I pinch my lips together, hesitantly lifting my hand and bringing it closer to his arm. I lightly run the tip of my index finger over the inside of his wrist, tracing the outline of a planet. 

Sally flinches, pulling his hand back a bit. I look up, eyes widening slightly as I curse to myself. "Sorry," I say quickly. "I didn't--"

"No, it's not you," he says kindly, uncurling his fist and pulling his sleeve back down. "My wrist is just a sensitive area, I guess."

He seems confused as he explains, flexing his hand on the table for a moment before hiding it out of my sight.

"Y/n! You've got one!"

My blood runs cold when my name cuts through the air. I do my best to hold a straight face as the air shifts at the table. Sally tsks under his breath, mumbling, "Creepy coincidence." Then, he tilts his head at me and asks, "Any recommendations from the menu here?"

I have to play everything off extra well now. He genuinely has something against me. Just the sound of my name ticked him off. What the hell did I ever do to him?

I pray that I can hold off. Hopefully someone just picks up the person on my side.

"The Southern Chicken Sandwich is pretty good," I say with a barely held together grin plastered on my face.

Sally's eyes squint in a smile again. "Cool, I'll go with that then. Thanks for keeping me company too. You can stay longer, if you'd like."

I do my best not to suddenly choke. Fuck, this is crazy.

Before I can say anything, the chef yells again.

"Y/n, get your ass over here! You've got one, dammit!"

My eye twitches and I struggle to hold myself together as I watch the customer standing at the front of the diner out of the corner of my eyes.

Like the intelligent human vessel I am, I put a hand over my mouth and say, "Huh, I wonder where y/n is. She was here earlier." Sally stays quiet. "I should probably pick up her customers or look for her. Sorry, give me a few." I continue, shooting Sally Face a shitty excuse of a happy smile.

"Oh, yea. That's fine," he says sweetly, leaning back in his seat. "Before you go though, by any chance, do you know if... y/n... has a friend named Ash? Like, the Ash I play with?"

I cackle unceremoniously, waving Sally off. His eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, no. If she knew Ash personally, I promise I would be the first one to know! Y/n and I are like besties!"

Sally nods slowly, "Ah, okay." He chuckles awkwardly. "Good to know."

"Ha, yea," I say, nodding back. "Well, I'll put your order in and check out those customers and then I'll be back."

I scurry away before Sally can say anything else or stop me. What a fucking day. And it still isn't anywhere near over.

I seat my customer, take their drink order, then run over to the chef to put in Sally Face's order.

"Where the hell you been?" He asks gruffly, a disapproving frown on his face. 

I have no excuse. So I shrug, wincing as I do and just smiling awkwardly.

The chef grunts, waving his spatula in the air in aggravation. "Just pick up the damn pace, girl." is all he says before I'm rushing over to grab my new customer's drink.

I drop off their drink, take their order, put that in, then make my way over to Sally again but with his sandwich this time.

"Sorry for the wait," I murmur, placing the sandwich down in front of him.

"No worries, Lexi." I grimace at the fake name. "I have plenty of time."

I don't know how many more fake smiles I can slap on my face today, especially in front of Sally Face. I've gotten used to the never-ending panic I feel within his presence-- I likely won't shake this feeling until he's long gone-- but it's hard to pretend like I'm just an excited fan and not the person he probably hates most in the world right now. 

"I leave tomorrow morning," he says quickly. "I've never been here before and I most likely won't come back for a while. But I'm glad I met someone nice, so thank you. I'll make sure to drop by and tell you hello when I come back."

The smile in his eyes almost makes me fold. He sounds and look so genuine and kind as he says those few words. I almost forget about all of the horrible things he's said about me. 

I send him a smile that isn't as fake as the ones I've been showing him before. "That's nice of you," I say. "You've been good company."

I'm surprised that it's not exactly a lie.

Sally chuckles beneath his prosthetic, looking away for a minute. "I'll pay my bill now. I won't be ordering anything else."

"Oh, okay. I have your ticket with me," I tell him. And damn right I have his ticket. I've reprinted it ever since he ordered water just so I could send him on his way as quickly as possible. I've been waiting for this moment-- but now it feels a little bittersweet.

I place the ticket down and he doesn't even look at it, just hands me a hundred dollar bill-- for his $12 meal-- then says, "Keep the change."

"I absolutely cannot." I laugh hysterically for a second, shutting my mouth when I realize it's the same laugh he heard over Ash's phone just a day ago. "This is too much. Keep your money."

"I want to, Lexi. I don't mind, seriously. Just keep it." His eyes show me his smile again and suddenly, I can't decline. I just stare at him, stars in my eyes.

Can I change my name to Lexi?

"Here," he says when I've been quiet for too long. "I want to give this to you, too."

Sally reaches into his hoodie, pulling out a leather necklace and lifting it over his head. I'm practically hyperventilating and I haven't even seen the entire thing yet.

He holds it out in front of him. Attached to the necklace is a black Fender guitar pick with his initials carved into it. "I know it might seem weird, but I really value kindness. You're probably the nicest person I've met since I started streaming. You never asked me anything personal or freaked out. You treated me like a normal person. So, in return for being my favorite kind of person, I want to give you my favorite guitar pick," he explains sweetly, taking one of my hands that rests at my side and placing the necklace in my palm.

The necklace is still warm from laying against his chest.

I suck in a shuddering breath as I stare down at our joined hands. I look back into his eyes, trying to hold myself together. 

"Sally," I start softly, scared as all hell. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." He laughs prettily then pulls his hand away once my hand closes around the necklace. "But, before you leave." He runs a hand through his hair-- I'm starting to notice that he does this when he's distressed. "I really like your glasses. They suit your face shape. They're really cute. And you have beautiful eyes."

I could cry when the tips of his ears turn pink and he looks away from me.

I huff out a breath. None of this feels real. And even though this guy hates the real me, I can't skip over the fact that he's done a lot for me within the past two minutes.

Smiling slightly, I say, "You know, my glasses are one of my biggest insecurities. I appreciate that more than you know. You also have really gorgeous eyes. I've never seen any that blue before." 

I hold back every other compliment I could give him. It takes everything in me to forbid myself from telling him how hot I think he is. It's a fight to stop myself from asking him why he isn't like this with y/n. I have statements and questions that I want him to respond to-- but that can't happen. I don't want him to ever find out that Lexi and y/n are the same person.

Fuck. What a damn mess. 

What's worse than all of this physical drama is the internal battle in my brain. Sally has been too damn sweet for me to hate him anymore. I can dislike him, but I don't think I can hate him at this point.

"Thank you," He says softly. "That's very sweet of you. And I'm really glad that I met you, Lexi."

"Likewise," I smile genuinely.

Sally nods. "Until next time, then."

----

surprise first chapter :P

[mellometal]

(I'm going to edit this with added links to resources ASAP. I just don't have all of them saved at the moment. I'm sorry. [Update: I'm gonna just reblog this post with resources. I was trying to edit this post with resources, but the connection was wonky.])

I wanted to make sure I got everything I needed to say in a way that's easy for everyone to understand. I'm gonna be honest, I was genuinely unaware of what has been happening in the world until about a week ago or so due to things going on in my personal life that needed my immediate attention. I've also been struggling a lot, but that's not important right now. Because I was unaware of what was going on in the world currently, I did research to educate myself, watched a lot of videos about it, shared a ton of content about it, am currently in the process of reaching out to representatives all over the United States to get the President to call for a ceasefire, and I've been trying to start the conversation with people I know in real life.

Don't try to use what 1sra3l is doing to Palestine, Gaza, Congo, and Sudan as an excuse to be antisemitic or Islamophobic. Do not try to justify 1sra3l killing innocent people in any way, shape, or form. I don't tolerate people who stand for genocide. Nothing justifies killing innocent people. Tigray, Puerto Rico, Hawai'i, Ukraine, and Northern Ireland are some more oppressed nations, to give some more examples.

Many of the people in Palestine and Gaza have had their homes, schools, hospitals, businesses, and so on destroyed due to 1sra3l bombing them. They're watching their own people die. They're digging through slabs of broken concrete to find their missing loved ones. They're putting the dismembered body parts of their loved ones in bags. They don't have clean drinking water. They don't have electricity. They're getting WORMS from having to drink water that's not suitable for consumption. Food is scarce and very expensive. People are dying from starvation, not having clean drinking water, and the inability to access adequate medical care due to extremely limited resources. Doctors are having to perform life-saving procedures without any type of sanitation, anesthesia, or any type of pain relief to give to the injured. They're performing procedures on the hospital floor and in the streets. They're now having to choose who's worth saving, watch victims die, and then move on to the next. The animals that are still alive are having to resort to eating blown off body parts of DEAD PEOPLE. This is just SOME of the things these people are going through.

There's also war going on in Congo and Sudan. Tigray is still suffering from the genocide on their people, even after the peace agreement in 2022 between Ethiopia and Tigray. Big tech companies are enslaving children in Congo by forcing them to mine for coltan. Millions of Congolese people are being killed. Many Tigrayans are still displaced from their homes, parts of Tigray are still being held captive, and school hasn't started for many children there because so many people are having to resort to living in school buildings or in tents. This is all just the tip of the iceberg and from what I found doing some quick research.

To top that off, President Biden is refusing to ceasefire on Palestine and Gaza. HE'S SENDING MORE MONEY TO 1SRA3L INSTEAD. 1SRA3L, UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW, SHOULDN'T EVEN BE DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING. THEY'VE BROKEN SO MANY LAWS UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW. THE AMOUNT OF LAWS THEY'VE BROKEN UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW IS ACTUALLY SCARY. MULTIPLE PEOPLE IN CONGRESS HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SILENCE ANYONE (specifically they have been trying to silence Rashida Tlaib, the only Palestinian-American in Congress) SPEAKING OUT ABOUT THE WAR CRIMES BEING COMMITTED AND FUNDED WITH AMERICAN TAX DOLLARS. Oh, but Biden had all the time in the world recently to visit grieving families here in the United States who have lost loved ones due to the rampant gun problem in this country that STILL isn't being fixed. That's nice. /s By the way, I'm not criticizing him for visiting grieving families. I'm criticizing Biden for funding the genocide of innocent people instead of putting a stop to it. The civilians in Palestine and Gaza didn't do anything to deserve what they're going through right now. That goes for all oppressed nations.

We might end up in World War III, and that's gonna be a HUGE problem for the United States if we get involved instead of staying out of it. We don't have enough troops for when and IF WW3 happens. I'm not kidding. When NORTH KOREA is saying that what Biden’s doing is fucked up, you KNOW that it's bad. I don't want World War III to be a reality. I don't want that to happen. I want to say that WW3 will never happen, BUT I CAN'T. History WILL keep repeating itself.

As far as boycotts go, the list of brands that have ties to 1sra3l is overwhelmingly long and the brands that have no ties to 1sra3l and support Palestine are small in comparison. However, the big three to focus on boycotting are McDonald's, Starbucks, and Disney. They're the companies who contribute the most money to horrific shit like what I mentioned here.

I keep seeing many people leaving disabled people out of the conversation and it's irritating because disabled people exist all across the globe. For disabled people, boycotting many of these things that I haven't even listed here may be more difficult, if not impossible, for them to do for a variety of reasons (mainly medical). Obviously I'm speaking in a general sense. It all depends on the person. Reason why I'm bringing this up is because I saw a few medication brands on the boycott list. I've seen people say to just get the generic brand of their medications, but that might not be an available option for them, depending on their insurance.

I don't eat at McDonald's much anymore (actually haven't eaten there much if at all for years), I don't have a Disney+ subscription, and I rarely get Starbucks anyway...so it's personally not a huge loss. There are better things to watch. There are better places to eat at that are more Pescatarian friendly. There are also better places to get myself a blended coffee made with almond milk and extra fixings if I'm feeling fancy. I know there are people in food deserts, in financial strain, and have accessibility issues. I'm not talking about them.

When and if you can, shop and eat out locally. I'm sure they'd love the business! It also helps boost your town's local economy! If this isn't a viable option for you due to financial difficulties and/or accessibility issues, do what you gotta do that's the most sustainable for you, your family, your animals, and whatnot. Meaning if the only grocery store you have in your area is Walmart or it's the only place that's affordable, you're not evil for getting your groceries there. Because we're all struggling right now, myself included. Also, for anyone that's going to suggest a dollar store or a food bank, not everyone has a dollar store or food bank in their area, or has easy access to either of those things. The one thing I will say is do your best to be mindful of the things you buy.

For all my fellow American followers, Canadian followers, followers in the UK, and Australian followers, call and email your representatives and demand a ceasefire if you haven't already. This is especially for my fellow American followers. Call and email President Biden and Vice President Harris. CALL THE WHITE HOUSE. If you're going to a protest, be safe, be respectful, cover up anything identifiable on you, try to go in a group if you can, and all that good stuff. Sign petitions! Donate if you can.

There's so much shit going on, and I think I've discussed enough of it here. It's gotten way too long. Sorry if I missed anything. I wanted to at least cover the big stuff.

[thebluestbluewords]

You want a Descendants restaurant au? I could probably put one together easily. Is there anything you especially want, like pairings, scenes? It might not turn out exactly how you envision (since I'm gonna put my own things in, of course), but let me know. I could stand to write in Descendants a bit more this year.

oh my goodness, yes??? I would LOVE to read a Descendants restaurant AU if the idea is sparking your creative fancy! 

Obviously ymmv, but when I think Descendants restaurants, my immediate thought is either front of house/back of house fake rivalry with the AKs/VKs, or rival restaurants competing in some sort of....over the top challenge where the younger generation of the villain's restaurant have to work together with the children of the Auradon restaurant owners to stop their parents from rigging the competition somehow. (but that one is more a full blown AU with plot, and probably not the thoughts you are interested in hearing!) 

SO the short version! 

It is absolutely essential to me that Mal is one of the feral line cooks who claims to hate everyone, sleeps on a mattress on the floor of her friend's apartment, and owns a $1000 knife that is only used for cutting fish. 

The only other option for her is that she's the absolute worst hostess ever. Her mom owns the restaurant, so she doesn't care how her beloved daughter treats the customers. 

Jay would be so good and so charming if he was allowed to work in the front. He is not allowed to do this. The last time they set him loose on the customers, they didn't see him again for three hours, and when they found him he was shirtless inside the dumpster. 

Evie is the genuinely competent pastry chef who was actually tutored in her craft instead of dumped into the dish room with a shiny new work permit the second she was old enough to be on payroll. 

Carlos doesn't actually work there, he just shows up every so often to fix the perpetually broken hobart and flirt with the dish guy. 

I don't have any plot here, only vibes. 

The pirates also work at a restaurant, they're part of this rivalry probably. 

Uma's mother died under mysterious circumstances and left her daughter full ownership of the chip shop. 

(oh my god, is this some sort of boardwalk restaurant rivalry??? Uma and her pirates working the chip shop, Mal and Jay working some sort of rival fried food place, and Evie as the fancy upscale pasty restaurant across the way??? And they all have to unite against the kids from the resort restaurant??) 

I don't have a plot, I don't have a plot. 

Anything you write with feral line cooks would be amazing. 

I've never actually worked in a restaurant kitchen, but I did work dining service at two different summer camps, and met my fiance because he was the head chef at the second camp I worked at. We bonded over the time we found a dead mouse in our hobart. The machine would turn on and get through about two cycles before it shut down, which we eventually realized was because the mouse corpse in the wiring box was wet enough to conduct a charge for about two cycles before the electricity dried it out too much to continue.

I'm so sorry about the mouse story. We worked in a kitchen in the woods. We had to keep our trash in a broken chest freezer to avoid issues with the bears. 

I don't think the Descendants kids have to deal with bears. 

But they might have a particularly new kid ask what to do with the live mouse they found in the glue trap one morning. 

"should I just kill it with a fork??" 

There's a reason I don't work in kitchens anymore lmao

To actually answer your question, I’m always a sucker for Malvie?

[dollsonmain]

And the fucking decision paralysis again.

So.

I decided to free up floor/work space by putting dolls in the doll house for now, because fixing the doll house floor will cost money. Either I need to buy new floor boards or I need to buy two boards to press them between.

So that can wait.

I also thought about whether or not I'd want to change this side of the room or move anything from here to other walls and I think no. this is ok as it is. Those pieces fit in that space rather well. There's about a 12in space left in the corner, which is where I've stuck the lamp. There's no light on that side of the room for some reason, so I put in that lamp, even though I rarely to never turn it on.

I'd have to hire someone to install another can light in the ceiling and don't want to.

-

I also freed up floor space in front of the ponies by dumping all of the stands I had sorted back into the stands box. I'll resort them some other time.

Now.... Those four little end tables rearranged to be a horizontal line instead of a square could potentially be used as the pony display area.

It would be nice to have more room for the ponies so I could space them out a little. It's a bit too chaotic in the center segment for me.

I don't know if you can tell, but I prefer varying heights in my displays. I don't like everything to be the same height or all of the shelves to align across the book cases. That overwhelms me for some reason, when everything is too homogeneous. I need the line to be broken.

The four end tables would be a little wider than this unit because this one has a little overlap on the ends. Each of those end squares are, I THINK, the same size as the end tables and the center segment is just slightly wider than two end tables.

That would make the pony area a little more boring, though. I'd have to do more manual variation of the display with risers and boxes, and that's fine. I don't mind.

However, I don't think that TV stand thing would be suitable for my BJD. I need more room for BJD, not less.

It's overfull as it is, and there are nine more upstairs in the office right now...

Those same 4 end tables would be less than double the width of the existing BJD display area, but can be spaced out a bit and rely on the stair-stacked boxes as surfaces.

There is the issue of the staired boxes being too shallow for the stands I have a few of them on, though.

Another option is to put the toy box and coffee table side by side between the book cases, but that does again saddle me with the dead space where the toy box is.

The toy box is ugly. It has clowns on it, so I keep it covered up, and that's ugly, too. It is an option, but not one that I want to do.

I mean, the toy box IS full of stuff but it's completely inaccessible when there are things on top of it which makes it non-viable for doll-things storage which was my intent.

I would get rid of the toy box but my grandmother asked me not to and she's still alive. I'll consider it again when she isn't.

I could get a really cheap table cloth and cover up the toy box in a nicer looking way, but it's still dead space.

-

Anyway, I think what I will do is empty out, wipe down, and separate the little end tables and then push them around and see how I feel about them here and there. They're relatively easy to put back together if I decided I don't like how that turns out, where dumping off all the ponies and BJD to try things out would be a huge pain in the ass.