#thing is: although I'll definitely end up blaming myself i do know it's also something on her end

[fellwhite]

It's happening

Im self sabotaging again, as I've done all my life

This is a vent, you have been warned

[stratossphere]

whiskey | v.v

you and ville have been drinking whiskey all night, and everyone knows that whiskey elicits honestly and talkativeness.

warnings: everyone is drunk, smut, oral (both receiving), fingering, light choking, unprotected sex, bam is painfully unobservant

word count: 6.3k

— —

Whiskey was a mistake. Every single time, without fail, it was a mistake.

"Y/n doesn't shut the fuck up when she drinks whiskey. Might be good for her."

Those words from Bam had been how you had ended up in the rare form you were in by this point, and although it was too late to be seriously worried about it, you still knew that you were going to regret the third of Mige’s Jameson that you had put away throughout the night.

Oh. And the fact that your whiskey talkativeness was rearing its head in the form of talking Ville's ear off on Mige's balcony. It's a good thing he was into existential bullshit.

"—so if that ever happens to me, I'll shoot myself." You were saying, referencing how Bam had stepped completely out of the apartment and downstairs to get into another massive argument with Jenn on the phone. "If someone is so obsessed with you that you can't even have an hour of time to yourself, then you're going to end up like Kurt Cobain did because of Courtney Love."

"I don't think that's why that happened." Ville's eyes narrowed in skepticism, but you were already moving onto the next topic in your head. You were sitting up in your chair, legs crossed and leaning slightly over Ville's armrest of his chair where he was lying down with his hands clasped over his chest. He'd already passed his wild, energy-crazed portion of your night of drinking, and was now in a lull as he listened and half-responded to your thoughtless babbling.

"Do you like Nirvana, by the way? I kind of hate them." It was something you kept to yourself, because Nirvana was apparently like some god-send from heaven above or something according to everyone else in the world, but Ville seemed like a good person to bring it up to. The both of you had similar taste in music, anyway.

"On a bad day when I'm feeling like a piece of shit, yes." He responded, tilting his head more in your direction where he had been subconsciously leaning away due to how close you were to his chair. You didn't blame him, but drunk you was way too fucked up to notice it anyway.

"Do you think Courtney Love killed Kurt Cobain?" Bam said yes, you said no. It was often a topic of conversation once booze and music entered the same conversation, and it was also a question you brought up with new people to gauge their opinions as well. Ville paused for a second in thought.

"No. I'm sure she drove him to put the gun in his mouth, though." He concurred with your theory, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips when you gasped in agreement. "I've heard they were very sexually compatible but hated each other outside of it. A good blowjob can only distract you from insanity for so long."

How very crudely philosophical.

You laughed at that sentence for a good while before composing yourself enough to respond to his theory.

"You really think so?" You vastly disagreed with that theory, in all honesty. It seemed that way until you were actually in the situation, and if someone was crazy enough, nothing mattered. He hummed.

"Oh, I know so. I've had a lot of crazy girlfriends." He reminded you, referencing all of the horror stories he'd told you and Bam about girls cutting off his hair in his sleep, beating him up, and all sorts of other horrible shit. "You're telling me if someone gave you such good head that you could've considered yourself addicted, you wouldn't do a little overlooking of certain behaviors?"

"I'd have to see what 'good head' feels like. I've only gotten mediocre at best." See? Definitely a thing you wouldn't have said to someone I didn't know very well whilst sober. Especially not Ville, who you found yourself having a harder and harder time behaving yourself around everytime you saw him. He tutted.

"That's unfair. Everyone should get to experience good head in their life." There was a hint of suggestive nature in his tone, and you swallowed your moment of slight shock by dancing around his innuendo with innocence in your voice.

"What qualifies as a good blowjob to you?" Okay, so maybe you were setting yourself up for the chain of events that he was so clearly hinting at. His gaze hadn’t left yours this entire time, and he didn’t exactly seem shy on the conversation topic. But that was no one's business but his and your own.

"Well, as a rule of thumb, you should always lick before you suck." He began, holding out a finger to signal that was the first of several criteria. "Second, you should have pretty eyes. I like it when someone looks at me while they're sucking my cock."

You hoped he didn't notice the shift of your legs in your seat so that you could press your thighs together. What the fuck did he expect, saying things like that?

"What counts as pretty eyes?" You could've said his own, because goddamn were they hard to look away from, but you held your tongue in favor of chasing the bait he was so clearly putting out. He reached out then, taking your chin between his fingers and holding your gaze intensely.

"Your eyes are very beautiful." He said, his eyes flitting from yours down to your lips. You leaned a little further towards his chair, your hand now fully on his armrest with your fingers touching his arm as you held his gaze in a state of aroused intoxication. He never let go of your chin. "Do you know what I want?"

You nodded dumbly, voice coming out hoarse when you replied. "Yeah."

"Are you going to give it to me?"

You refrained from answering for fear you’d let something along the lines of I'll give you whatever the hell you want slip instead of just saying yes again. He took this as a sign, dipping his head and then touching his lips to yours for the first time. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand moved from your chin down to your own hand, which he took before moving to press your palm into the straining crotch of his jeans.

"Bam's going to be down there for a minute and everyone else is passed out." He reassured at your uneasy glance through the glass door that led into the kitchen of Mige's apartment. "You'll be fine."

You rubbed your palm against his hard-on, earning a low groan from deep in his chest as he kept his hand over yours the entire time. You then shifted to get his jeans undone, impatience taking over as you rushed to get him to where you wanted him.

Once you had gotten the button and zipper open, he helped to get his jeans down just enough to free his cock, which was already hard and leaking as it hit his stomach. He let out a small breath of relief at the ease of pressure, but it quickly shook and died in his mouth when you reached out and wrapped your hand around him.

As you began to stroke his cock slowly, using his precum to slick your hand, you slid off of your chair and down onto your knees, encouraging one of his hands into your hair. As he watched like a hawk, you replaced your hand with your tongue, running the tip along the vein that went up the underside of his cock and listening to the way he exhaled shakily.

"Fuck. Good girl." He groaned, hand tightening in your hair as you continued to lick across and around his tip, focusing on his slit and pulling a low-toned moan from his lips in the process. When you continued to only tongue at his tip, his grip on your hair pulled you back. "Don't play with it, sweetheart."

You allowed him to push your head back down, taking him into your mouth with your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked at every inch that pushed past your lips. With his words echoing in your head, your eyes then flitted up to his, holding his gaze where he was already looking down at you with a coy glimmer. He moaned again at the sight.

"You look so beautiful sucking cock." He breathed as he took his free hand and cupped your cheek, his voice almost unintelligible over the sounds of you choking as he continued to push your head down so that he was hitting the back of your throat.

You keened at the praise, leaning into his touch as much as you could with him still in your mouth. You wanted him to keep talking, because every word out of his mouth was so sinfully baritone, but you wanted to hear him moan more, so you continued to suck him down while you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock.

However, just as you were getting really into it, you were suddenly being pulled away by the hand in your hair, forcing you to pop off of his cock with your mouth still open as you tilted your head up in his direction with a whine of protest. His hand moved out of your hair and back to your chin before he ran his thumb over your lip to collect the spit that had been beginning to drip down your chin.

"Bam just came back inside." He looked completely unbothered by the situation, but you felt panic rising in your chest when Bam neared the glass door right behind you only a mere second after Ville had finished tucking himself back into his pants and pulling his shirt over the open zipper.

"Dude. Birth control makes Jenn a vicious bitch. I don't care if we have pregnancy scares at this point." He was complaining as soon as he had the door open, completely oblivious to the scene he had missed by less than a minute. You had quickly dropped down to sit on the ground with your back against your chair due to the fact that you didn't have enough time to climb back up, but he just looked towards you without a hint of recognition. "Aren't you on birth control? How come she's a fucking psycho and you're not?"

"Well, yeah, but it makes you like, super horny sometimes, so maybe she just misses your dick or something.” You supplied, silently praying your voice didn't sound as hoarse as it felt when you tried to speak in put-together sentences.

Your words were more for innuendo towards Ville than anything, but they still rang true.

"Whatever. I'm going to crash before this whiskey fucking knocks me out on my feet." He grumbled, shaking his head and turning back towards the door. "Have you two been up here the whole time?"

"Yes. You were right about her and the whiskey." Ville muttered, casting a side glance at you before snickering when you smacked his shoulder at his insult. Bam chuckled at that before motioning inside.

"Is it cool if I take the bed? Last stunt I did fucked up my back." In his early twenties and already complaining about his back. Although, the stunt he was referring to had looked pretty painful, but still. "One of you can have the other side whenever you come to bed."

"Have sweet dreams and don't let the bedbugs bite!" You sang as he finally pulled the door back open, earning a middle finger from him before he slammed the door behind him and disappeared back into the house.

That left you and Ville.

"Well? What now?" Ville looked down at you, releasing the hold he'd had on his shirt hem and leaning back slightly in his seat. You glanced down at his still-unzipped fly with a racing heart.

"Let me finish." You requested, getting back up onto your knees and then resting your chin on the chair's armrest just inches from his fingers. He chuckled, reaching out to brush stray strands of hair back that had fallen into your face.

"No."

"What? Why not?" You whined, your voice coming out muffled as he ran his thumb across your lips and pushed slightly. You were consciously aware that he was purposely spreading your spit all over your mouth, but you let him because you were afraid if he stopped touching you now that he wouldn't start again.

"Because I said so. Don't whine." He then motioned for you to get back into your chair, which you did with only a minor frown on your face before you were sitting with your legs crossed facing him, which was exactly how all of this had started in the first place.

"You know, you're a bossy fucker when you drink whiskey." You pointed out sourly, resting your elbow on the arm of your chair and then dropping your chin into your palm. He chuckled at that as he re-zipped his pants, sitting up once he was finished and turning to mimic your position with his elbow on his armrest.

"Do you want me to eat your pussy or not? Because that's why I stopped you." He said boldly, his words coming out so calm and collected that your soft gasp was audible over his voice. You just stared at him for a second, because Jesus Christ, before nodding slowly. His lips curled at your response (or lack thereof). "Take off your pants."

"But Bam—"

"—is probably passed out by now." He finished for you, urging you on with his eyes as you began to work at the button and zipper of your own jeans. "If he comes out and sees, then he sees. We'll survive."

You’d survive, sure, but you weren’t sure you were very keen on the idea of Bam seeing his best friend with his idol's head between her legs. That would make for one hell of a conversation.

As you finished getting your jeans (and underwear, seeing as you weren’t exactly feeling patient) off, Ville moved off of his chair and onto yours, sliding down onto his stomach and waiting until you had gotten your underwear off from around your ankle before his hands were on your hips and he was yanking you down further on the chair.

"Keep your mouth shut though, yeah? Don't want to goad him right back out here." He said as his lips ghosted at your inner thigh, eyes just visible enough in the low lighting of the night to see the cocky look that clouded them. God. If he wasn't so handsome...

"You're really playing it up here, Elvis." You said dryly as he pushed your legs open further, a soft grin on your face as you tried not to let on how eager you were on the inside. He quirked his eyebrows.

"We'll see about that."

The first touch of his tongue to your clit made electricity shoot throughout your entire body. You inhaled sharply, immediately arching into his touch to get more just as he dragged his tongue from your entrance all the way back up to your clit.

"Shit." You whined softly, your whiskey-heightened senses thrumming at the feeling of his hand kneading the skin of your thigh while the very tip of his tongue dragged over your clit in shapes that you couldn't make out.

As his hand began to wander up your stomach, massaging your skin gently and just feeling you in general, you grabbed his wrist and led it under your shirt, a whine escaping your lips when he took the hint and let his fingers find your nipple, rubbing over it before pinching softly.

His tongue continued to lap at your clit, going just slow enough to where you were rolling your hips in a silent plead for more but at the same time fast enough to where you were beginning to bite back on your snark towards him telling you to keep your mouth shut.

You couldn't help but grab a handful of his hair, pulling slightly as small gasps and moans began to fall from your lips faster than you could consciously hold them back. A flame suddenly ignited in his eyes, and he pulled back.

"Be gentle and sit still." He warned, still staring at you whilst he pulled his hand from your shirt and readjusted himself slightly. You let out a huff of protest at him stopping, only to be silenced when you watched him give you a challenging look before he spat on your pussy and then dove right back in with an open mouth.

Jesus fucking Christ, he was ruining you for everyone else. And he only made it worse when you suddenly felt him slip two fingers into you. You really couldn't stop the full-blown moan that came from deep in your throat as he began to curl his fingers inside of you.

"Oh. Fuck, keep doing that. Oh my—Ville." At that exact moment, you finally understood his theory about good head and how it could make you ignore red flags. There was a lot you would let him put you through if it meant that you could have this whenever you wanted it.

He hummed in response to your babbling, hand only tightening on your thigh as he began to suck harshly at your clit, the added stimulation from his mouth and his merciless fingers making your vision feel like it was going to static while you writhed against his touch. You knew he had said to hold still, but you couldn't physically control yourself by that point.

Booze made you sensitive. No matter what kind, it always did. So, despite your best intentions, you were nearing your climax within a few minutes of his mouth/fingers combination. Your fingers had worked their way back into his hair, and although they weren't pulling due to his previous warning, you were touching as much as you could, your fingertips brushing his cheek every-so-often

Ville seemed to be able to tell, and as he continued to suck your clit, his tongue resumed swirling in tandem, pulling sounds out of you that you hadn't even known you knew how to make as the heat between your thighs extended to pulse through every inch of your body. Your leg that was over his shoulder shook as you unconsciously pressed your heel into his shoulder blade, the fabric of his black t-shirt bunching up as a result and exposing the pale skin of his back. Fuck, he was beautiful. You would obviously never say that out loud to him, but Christ.

"Don't stop. M' gonna cum." You groaned, back arching off of the chair as the hand that wasn't in his hair gripped your armrest tight enough to make your knuckles go white. He seemed to press his fingers even deeper into you then, hitting that sweet spot inside you that sent a sharp, completely different level of pleasure through you. "Fuck! Too much!"

"Shh. You can take it." He encouraged, breaking away only for a second to speak before he began to suck open-mouthed kisses to your clit just above his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, and you had to reach up and press your knuckles forcefully to your lips in a desperate attempt to muffle the noise coming from your mouth in a steady, loud stream. "Cum on my tongue for me, love."

You didn't need to be told twice.

Your leg was shaking harshly by that point, and it only got worse as you came, your fingers pulling at his hair as you lost all sense of control while your hips pushed up towards his mouth and fingers. If he wanted to be mad about having his hair pulled, he was going to wait until you were done with one of the strongest orgasms you’d ever had in your life.

His name was a hoarse cry on your lips as he continued to fuck you with his fingers through your climax, only stopping and pulling his mouth away when you were physically pushing his head away due to a looming swell of overstimulation.

"No more. No more." You said breathlessly, falling back in the chair with no energy left to hold yourself up as you gasped to bring some air into your lungs. You could hear him chuckling as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, but you couldn't open your eyes to look at him, instead just letting your hand fall out of his hair to rest on your stomach.

"Fuck, you're loud." Ville teased, making my face burn in embarrassment as you finally reopened your eyes just in time to see him wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. You kicked him gently when he sat up, a frown on your face as he began to slip your underwear back on for me.

"Shut up." You grumbled. Despite your kicking him, Ville pushed your leg out of the way once he'd gotten your underwear back over your hips and leaned down over you, settling rested between your knees before he was kissing your pout away. You deepened the kiss, hand coming up to cup his cheek as his tongue slipped past your lips.

When you finally broke apart, Ville gently rolled you so that you were sharing the chair, you partially curled into his chest as he reached over to grab his cigarettes and lighter off of the floor.

"Now. Do you see why you might let a future partner cut off a few pieces of your hair from time to time?" Ville concluded his lesson to you full circle as he lit a cigarette, smiling in the face of your laughter as you let out a sigh of defeat.

"Okay, yeah. Maybe a little bit." You caved, the tinge of his cigarette smoke reaching your senses as he exhaled softly through his nose. You watched like a hawk as his free hand moved to your hip, his fingertips slipping under the fabric of your waistband to massage softly as he tsked. "Thank you for the display."

"Oh, anytime. I have a vast range of displays I'm willing to share." He teased, sucking his cigarette smoke from his mouth up into his nose before handing the cigarette over to you. "Your leg is shaking."

"Yeah, I fucking wonder why." You muttered, dropping your head against his shoulder as you took a drag off of his cigarette. "You know, you're beating a lot of stereotypes."

Here you went again with whiskey talk.

"Oh, do share." He snorted, sounding very amused at your words. You shrugged, readjusting slightly so that one of your legs was resting over his knee and so that (more inconspicuously) he had more access to your skin.

"Rockstars are infamous for being all talk. Two pump chumps who only want head and won't give it." You said like it was obvious (because hello, it kind of was), throwing a hand in the air as you did so. You’d fucked with guys 'in a band' a couple times before, and not once had you been impressed. Well, not until now, that is. "Well, I guess I don’t know if you’re a two pump chump or not, but still.”

“You’re welcome to find out.” He said suggestively, stretching out further before pulling your leg higher up over his with his hand under the bend of your knee. Despite the fact that he had just finished eating you out, you felt your heart jolt at the minute contact.

“Bam could still be awake.” You pointed out, your voice barely above a whisper as you handed him his cigarette back with your eyes glued to his hand where he had moved it to rest on your thigh.

“I don’t give a shit. You’re too beautiful not to fuck.” His thumb was brushing back and forth on your inner thigh, and you tried to clear the buzzing feeling that wasn't from alcohol out of your head as you watched him move higher and higher.

Your voice was caught in your throat just as it had been ever since he'd first put his hands on you tonight. You tilted your head up to look at him fully, lips parted slightly as you inhaled his soft breath of Marlboro smoke. It only took your eyes meeting for him to lean down and close the gap between you, his lips meeting yours strongly enough to push your head back as his hand settled at your very inner thigh.

"Let's go in."

You and Ville were lip-locked the entire way into the apartment and through the kitchen to the living room, his hands all over you while you held onto your pants that had been discarded outside before you were collapsing down onto the couch together. Both bedroom doors were shut, and there wasn't sound coming from the other side of either of them, so you were assured that you were in the clear as you once again undid Ville's jeans from where you were sitting in his lap.

"You have to be quiet this time. Mige'll kill me if he finds out I was fucking on his new couch." He said against your lips, his voice trailing off into a groan when you pulled his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gave him a look to show that you weren’t impressed with his implication that you didn't know how to shut up when you really needed to, starting to stroke his cock and watching the way his head fell back gently against the wall as he let out a heavy sigh.

"I could say the same to you. I'm the one on top." If looks could kill, he would've been dead with the way you glared at him when he started laughing.

"Just because you're on top doesn't mean you're doing the fucking." He warned firmly, a hand cementing itself around your wrist where you were still stroking his cock as if reminding you that his grip on you (both physically and metaphorically) still remained. "Don't get fucking cocky."

"Then fucking—" Just as you were about to get cocky, he suddenly reached out and wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to where you didn't have enough air left to snap what you’d been about to say at him as he held your gaze steadily.

"Be quiet." He barely raised his voice at all, but for some reason you closed your mouth then (not that you really could've said anything with his hand on your throat), your eyes still flaming in his direction despite your silence. He then pulled you forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Good girl."

You refrained from giving any sign to how much those words affected you.

He continued to rest his hand at your throat (albeit a little looser now) as he reached down with his free hand to push your underwear to the side, his middle finger sliding through your pussy while he groaned at the sight.

"What, you like being shut up? Is that why you're so wet even though you have a fucking attitude?" He mocked, brushing your hand fully away from his cock before taking it in his own hand and then rubbing the head against your clit. You inhaled sharply, basically melting against his hand and lifting your hips slightly as you waited for him to make a move. When you didn't speak, he smirked. "Mm. That's what I thought."

When he finally pressed the tip of his cock into you, you let out a mixed sigh of relief and pleasure, immediately sinking down onto him until your ass was flush with his hips and he was fully seated inside of you. You both took a second, Ville's hand tightening just slightly on your throat as he let out a breath and closed his eyes.

As you slowly began to grind down on his cock, his hand tightened even more, and then he seemed to find himself; his free hand cementing itself on your hip as he encouraged your movement.

Your heart was racing. Despite the booze, which usually mellowed you out considerably, the threat of getting caught by one of the other people in the apartment loomed over your heads, and the lack of air supply to your head was starting to get to your senses.

Ville's face looked like something out of a Playgirl for goths. His eyeliner, which was heavily packed on from the promotional shoot he'd done with Bam earlier that day, had smeared all around his eyes, which were shut tight while his lips remained slightly parted in a silent moan. You wished you could’ve taken a picture. You certainly took a mental one that was going in the spank bank for later.

You continued to roll your hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting you in just the right way to where you were a little thankful that his hand was limiting how much noise you could really make. Usually you had a pretty easy time controlling your own voice, but there was just something about Ville. Actually several things about him, if you were being honest.

"Fuck, you take it so well. You're so fucking beautiful." Suddenly viridian eyes were back on yours, and you let out a breathless moan at his praise as his hand on your hip slid down to grip your ass.

With one hand resting on his chest, the other came up to circle around his wrist, holding on tightly as you felt him begin to thrust up to meet you. The living room was completely silent, so all that could be heard was both of your ragged breathing, and the sound of skin on skin as you jointly began to pick up your pace.

Suddenly, his hand dropped from your throat, and you let out a gasp of surprise as both of his hands gripped your hips, solidifying you in a tight hold as he began to piston his cock into you from underneath. The change of position and pace made your head spin, and you let out a breathy whine as you went unsteady when he was no longer there for support.

Seeing this, Ville encouraged you further forward until your chest was pressed into him, groaning when one of your arms circled around his neck while your fingers laced into his hair. You could smell a hint of his cologne due to how close you now were, and it made your head spin even more.

"Just like that. M' gonna cum." You moaned in his ear, feeling your hips starting to ache with how hard he was holding them and feeling another twinge of arousal at the thought of waking up with bruises the next morning.

"Don't. Not until I say." He was breathless, but his voice still held strength as he stared you down while he continued his bruising pace. You were still rolling your hips along with his thrusts, but you were losing more and more control by the minute, and by that point any of your movements were basically guided by his hands.

Holding back an orgasm while he continued to fuck you ruthlessly was easier said than done, and you moaned and gasped repeatedly as your head fell to his shoulder so that you could muffle your voice against his skin. His cock was hitting your sweet spot that his fingers had previously been at over and over again, and each push of his hips just made your throat feel more raw as your voice continued to rise in your throat and muffle against his shoulder.

"I'm not gonna—I can't—" You couldn't even form complete sentences as you tried to warn him that you were losing the last bit of control you still had, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you could barely move and control parts of your body. He shushed you softly.

"It's okay. Cum." He finally gave his permission, and with less than a few more thrusts you were cumming, your nails digging into both his chest and partially his scalp as you buried your face as deep in his neck as you could to muffle the long moan that welled up in your chest.

Seconds after you hit your climax he was following suit, his grip on your hips strengthening considerably as he let out a deep groan and spilled inside of you. Part of you was mentally slapping yourself for letting a guy you’d only met a couple of times cum in you, but you’d just discussed the fact that you were on birth control, and you were too fucked out to care, so you ignored the thought.

Ville's harsh thrusts faded into slow drags of his cock inside you before he finally slowed to a stop once your legs, which had already been shaking before, began to shake hard. You didn't take your head off of his shoulder quite yet, still trying to catch your breath that wouldn't seem to come to you while his hands slowly loosened their grip on you.

"Still alive?" He hummed, rousing you gently with a shake of his shoulder. You blew out a breath as you finally sat back up, running a hand through your hair where it had been falling in your face and shaking your head.

"Fucking christ." You muttered, feeling your body thrum all over again at the fucked-out, satiated smile on his face as he watched you slowly come fully back down to earth. "That was good."

"It was." He agreed, that same look on his face as he kissed you again, softer this time than he had been before. There was still a slight taste of yourself on his lips from earlier, and you couldn't help but grin into the kiss at the thought. As you broke apart, Ville's hand massaged your leg softly where you were still straddling him. "Are you going to end up sleeping with Bam Bam, then?"

You finally pulled off of him, making a slight face that mirrored his own as you sat back. You had a couple minutes before his cum started to seep back out of you, so for the time being yoy stayed where you were.

"Yeah. Someone's gotta keep him from puking all over Mige's guest bed." You snickered, knowing Bam was probably passed out with his shoes still on on top of the covers in the other room. "You can come too, if you don't want to sleep on this tiny ass couch."

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey.

"Okay." In the midst of you mentally slapping myself for inviting Ville into your (and Bam's) bed, you barely heard him agree, but when it registered, you looked at him in surprise.

"Really?" You knew Bam and Ville got along pretty well, but you really didn't think it was that well. You guessed whiskey also made Ville make bad decisions he would regret in the morning. Bam would've been creaming his pants if he'd known that Ville Valo himself was getting ready to crawl into his bed.

"Why not. My head hangs off." He explained vaguely, motioning to the couch underneath you. You laughed a little bit at that but accepted that he was coming along, getting off of him and looking around until you found your pants where you had dropped them on the floor.

Ville went straight to the room that Bam was asleep in while you went into the bathroom, taking some time to get cleaned up and sober up a little bit before splashing some cold water on your face and returning to the hall that led to the guest room.

When you pushed the door open where it was cracked and stepped into the room, you were met with the sight of Ville pushing Bam out of the center of the bed with his foot whilst smoking a cigarette. You couldn't help but laugh, and he only looked over at you with mild irritation.

"He's not fucking moving." He complained, motioning towards a comatose Bam. You waved Ville off, shutting the door behind you before stepping around to the side of the bed and leaning down so that you were at Bam level. You then dug your elbow directly into his side, pushing forcefully at the same time.

"Move over, dickhead." You snapped, turning to grin in satisfaction at Ville when Bam let out a very drunken groan and rolled right over to the other side of the bed. You then laid down in bed in the middle, motioning Ville in after you. "He literally does not wake up unless you shoot him when he drinks whiskey."

Ville snorted at that before pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the floor after he had put his cigarette out, the room too dark to see where he'd left it before he was dropping down on the bed beside you.

As he got comfortable beside you in bed, you could feel your booze-coma starting to creep in, and you knew that no matter how close you were in bed together (which was very close, mind you), you were too tired to care. Your feet were touching Bam's, and you were shoved right up against Ville with your arms tangled together and his head against yours, but you were already having a hard time keeping your eyes open, so you just accepted your fate. You would worry about repercussions for your actions in the morning when your hangover set in.

You fell asleep with Ville's breath fanning softly against your cheek and Bam's ass pressed into your side, whiskey doing most of the work to make you comfortable as you silently hoped that Mige didn't decide to take any pictures should he come in the next morning.

[fatuismooches]

hiii lovely!!

I am absolutely in love with your fragile! reader content, especially dottore and fragile reader it's just so hhdnsjsfhs anyways I noticed on the fragile reader but they died post that the reader is mentioned to have only met dottore after he became a harbinger so it made me wonder whether dottore would have a slightly different reaction to akademiya! reader, how the letter would be etc like imagine reader talking abt the akademiya days and whatnot </3

anw!! I just wanted to say I adore ur works and they hit home cus I'm rather sickly lol

mwah mwah byeee

- 🌕

Yea, when I wrote that I didn't think of how good a fragile Akademiya reader would be unfortunately, but I wish I did cuz it would have been so much better-😭 AND YES HE DEFINITELY WOULD ILL WRITE A LIL SOMETHING HERE

To Zandik,

As I write this, it is late at night. One of your clones put me to bed a while ago, yet for some reason, I cannot sleep. I keep tossing and turning and so I decided to do something to occupy my mind. It has been rather restless lately, I admit. I... don't know how to tell you this in person, so I'll just write down whatever comes to mind right now. You'll probably end up finding this eventually, so I might as well just let everything out.

I have been thinking a lot about the past lately. Our Akademiya days, to be specific. I have secretly been wishing to go back to those days, even if just for a bit. To go back to the first moment I met you. (How handsome you were.) To go back to those painful study sessions. To go back to those picnics under the stars. To go back to the time I was not sick, and I could spend life with you to the fullest.

Really, those were some of the best moments of my life. I have been thinking about this because... I have not been feeling well lately. I mean, I don't feel well most of the time but nowadays I feel as though the illness is creeping more and more in me. It might just be a temporary thing, I don't really know. I know you are working as best you can, I know you better than anyone. So... don't blame yourself.

Hah, it's too bad. Admittedly I have also found myself daydreaming about the future, although it seems rather dim. I want to see a lot of the world. Did you know that? Well, I should correct myself. I want to follow you wherever you go and see the world that way. You've gone to Sumeru recently, yes? I know you've told me about how much it's changed, but I hope to see it myself one day. And I want to befriend some of your Harbingers friends. What is their opinion of me, by the way? Ah, and I want to take on that Traveler, too. They seem rather pesky.

Well, if I do get better, I will burn this letter and apologize to you with everything I have. But for now, I'll stash it somewhere just in case. And I'll say this now - I love you, Zandik. I love you so much that if I were to be away from you for too long I'd go mad. This love has burned inside of me since the Akademiya, and it still rages within me. I hope you know that.

Dottore would be much more affected although he doesn't really show it. Hell, even the clones are affected, from how they linger by your door a second too long, remembering that there is no you any more to wake up. He puts a mask on his emotions to pretty much everyone. You have been a familiar face for countless years of his life. In the Akademiya, after pulling another all-nighter, the first thing he'd be greeted with was your sleepy embrace around him. He'd roll his eyes at your nagging, and the two of you would get ready for classes. During his expulsion and exile, even though you were ill, you still stuck by his side. And even during the Fatui, you still sent him that tired but lovely smile. Every day, without fail, you could be seen with him at least for a bit. Yet he failed. For the first time in a long time, he failed.

[rindousbbg]

Hi hi <33

Here for a matchup, if you don't mind <33

I'm female(she/her) and would like to be matched with a guy from Tokyo revengers.

Many people describe me as quiet, kind, helpful, independent and smart, I'm definitely introverted and an INFJ. I'd consider myself ambitious as well since I've got a big academic dream I'm working towards. A passion I've got is helping others, although I like to do it "anonymously"/in a group and not alone or face to face in person.

In my free time I love playing the guitar, reading, listening to music and going on walks. I'm quite shy and not really talkative when you first meet me, although that changes when I'm comfortable around someone, then I can talk a lot haha but I'm also quite a good listener. <3 I also have negative traits such as being selfish but also insecure sometimes. (Insecure more often than sometimes lol)

In a soulmate I'd look for someone understanding who unconditionally loves me besides my bad sides <3 I don't mind someone with a good sense of humour or intellect. If I had to pick some "ideal traits" for him to have it'd be quiet, intelligent, caring and protective but I'm very adaptable and will love someone if we really understand, support and love each other, regardless of their appearance or whether their personality is like the one i described as ideal. <3

Some things I don't like is when he's controlling and manipulative obviously. I despite people/guys who try to make their gf/wife/other women a typical "house wife" for cleaning, cooking and raising children. I'm a pretty independent person and would like my partner to accept that and give me freedom to do some things my way and not insisting on me having to rely/depend on him.

A physical thing I cannot stand under any circumstances is smoking. I HATE the scent of it as it's closely connected to a traumatic event in my life that left quite a deep scar on my mental health, so every time I'm around a smoker I feel nauseous and immensely triggered, that'd be a deal-breaker. I'm not too good with children either so if my match up would value children a lot it'd be quite difficult.

My love languages are spending quality time together as well as words of affirmation. (I give quality time and receive WoA the most but I'm chill with it being turned/other love langs) I'm not too big on physical touch and gift giving, as i feel somehow guilty when someone buys something i want for me </3

I think that's everything, I hope it wasn't too much haha

Thank you in advance already, ik I'll already love my match up if it's made by you haha 🫶

Here's your matchup!

You got...

Ken Ryuguji.

• Draken would admire how independent you are. Being kind to others and being helpful. Not that he would mind if you weren't as helpful.

• Draken would understand why you want to help others by being anonymous. He won't pressure you for that.

• Although when you first met, you were so shy and reserved later opened up to him and made him feel happy that you are comfortable around him.

• Darken won't blame you for being selfish and insecure. Let's be honest we all are humans after all. Even he would tell you to choose yourself over anyone.

• Daraken is mature and would understand your problems quite well even without you saying anything about it.

• He isn't the brightest person in the room but still tries to light your mood up by cracking some silly jokes that took years for you to understand. (He's trying)

• He would support you no matter what. He's very understanding and supportive. But he would still stop you if you were doing something wrong.

• Will always be there for you when you need and protective. But not overly protective, he knows when to protect you tho.

• He won't force you to do things you won't like. Either you say it yourself or nothing will be happening.

• He won't pressure you to have children unless you want one. Although he would like the thought of it in the end you are the one who's giving birth so depends on you.

• He's not someone who's good with words but you can count on him to spend quality time with you. Although he's great at giving some good advice if you needed.

hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!

[coloursflyaway]

Hiii mate, 🦉

So good to hear from you! First of all. Do. You. Know. How. Happy. I. Am. to hear you say you've started writing again! So happy. On a side note though - I've lost you to another fandom and now there's even less chance of zowens 😩 But I'm still so glad you've picked it up again 😁 (also is it bad I'm kinda chuffed to be blamed for this good news? 😂)

Speaking of Lotr, did you ever try 'the rings of power'? If you have what did you think of it? Yea it never gets old, quite honestly I still find new things, things I didn't realise I'd missed earlier. The mind of that man, J.R.R. Tolkien, is just r.i.d.i.c.u.l.o.u.s.

Similar here, it was my grandpa and dad that got me onto the 'older' movies. Hence the inclination more towards the mysteries, action, thrillers and comedies 😁 I'll definitely be staying clear of 'Silence' then 😭

Ohh another one I've never heard of 'dead boy detectives' 🤔 haha yea from your posts I can tell you quite enjoy it! Was it a recent discovery? Their fandom must be thrilled about your fics 😁

Hii ♥

Me too, it felt sooo good 😭 took up basically my entire weekend, but it was so nice to actually be inspired and excited about writing instead of feeling like I had to force myself to do it. You definitely shook something lose there and I can't thank you enough! But yeah, this show kind of took over my life for the last couple of days 😅

I never tried Rings of Power, because my sister kind of hated it, but if you'd recommend it, I might give it a shot at some point. I do love LotR so much and getting more of it is very tempting 😁

That might be the same for me, although my parents both also love rom coms and they definitely didn't pass that onto me 😂 I really want to go to the cinema a bit more often in the next few months, since there is one that just re-opened kind of close to my house, so hopefully there will be some good new movies coming out!

Dead Boy Detectives is definitely new, it just came out on Netflix! It's based on a Neil Gaiman cominc and I love basically everything that man has ever done, so I knew I had to check it out and I ended up absolutely loving it😁 it's really cute and colourful and has enough supernatural stuff in it to get me really excited ❤️ And I hope the fandom is happy with my fics because it kind of feels like I'll continue writing them for a bit longer at least 😁

And if you don't mind, sure, come off anon! It's always nice to put a face to the conversations 🥰

[fleshmechsystem]

Usually I wouldn't really write a tumblr blog as I try to deal with my thoughts on my own and often push them aside but, I feel the need to write this out.

I have had an odd week to say the least, I temporarily dated someone new again only for me to end it in hopes that it wouldn't hurt the person in the other side for feeling numb as they put it.

It was definitely an infatuation for both our sides but doing that did hurt. The relationship was definitely sexual. But in the end we're still in good terms since I do enjoy them nerding out on their favorite games and other things we got along with in the first place, besides I could still love a person without it being romantic necessarily, although it did still hurt a little bit.

I already mentioned this venting somewhere but I or at least a splitted part of myself if I can recall basically try to push the feeling aside and ignore it, saying something like "I'm repeating the same mistakes Cal made, I'm a moron for writing a wall of text" of course it's still me, completely unaware about what I'm currently feeling.

I'm aware one of my if I could even call them that anymore "friends" might read this and to that I'd say this was the reason I probably asked about Cal's previous mental state.

There's also the fact I feel this cold feeling from everyone else. I act like I'm familiar with these people but in reality is that I'm merely living with transfered memories. I know you're reading this, I can assure you I don't blame you for feeling awful that Cal will never come back. They won't.

Even if their memories begin to plague me. Although there are positives about having someone else's or previous versions of myself before the fusion happened, I remember my childhood memories with my sister within the system. As you know Max was a part of me as well. At least the base making up the fusion. It's where I got my tenacity and patience from. I'm often determined and stubborn as well.

Those memories are pleasant, despite the one memory of hearing my parents argue downstairs which caused me to feel upset.

I accept that whatever sadness there is to my situation is only a small problem. I know in the future I will be able to move on and live as myself, Patch.

I'll try to remember Max's memories instead of Cal's because it seems to always bring a positive reaction out of me. Sometimes I still do talk to my supposed sister even if I'm technically a different person and a girl now.

Despite not being familiar with the concept of transger related things about myself, she quickly picked up on it while I educated her. I do enjoy the occasional moments I see her.

It's odd that I feel indifferent to the vessel's sister on the outside compared to my sister within but I do see them as an acquittance like any other person Cal knew quite honestly. The parents seem nice but I feel a sense of not trusting them. I refuse to read any of Cal's old post, it might bring back bad memories if I did.

I know it will get better, I've lived through a stressful week before and this is just a simple one. For awhile I was having issues with my emotions, currently I still am as I experienced feeling ill due to how overwhelming fusing and unfusing became earlier.

I had to explain I was feeling a sort of mental pain but it quickly started to manifest physically as the others had to assist me partially just to get me home.

I feel disconnected from everyone right now in a literal sense. Even Riley. I wouldn't say this is a curse, this is definitely just depression which I will take seriously.

As much as I want to be honest with my feelings. I just want support and care. I don't like the cold feeling I get from people even if I did at one point hinted that I might be a sociopath, psychopath or just nuerodivergent and unable to properly feel anything, it's probably just disassociation to stress and trying to cope with it.

In the end I do have hopes that this will get better. But I'm not sure about the old relationships Cal has built throughout their life.

I feel the need to just leave these people behind and move on, but I don't want to be lonely. I thrive from being surrounded by other people and feeling alone is a nightmare... Please don't leave me.

I know this is just a rambling of a headmate as per usual but I haven't had the time to properly express this pain.

It will end, I'm hopeful it will but right now it hurts. All of it.

-Patch

[witflitmanict]

I'm Still Here

Did you think I had left and given up already? I wouldn't blame you if you did. I made a plan and followed it for approximately three days and then...nope. Finished. 

Typical. I actually have been writing. I just have not completed anything. Or managed to get anything over 1000 words. So nothing has been posted because I wasn't hitting my goal. See? This is the problem with rules and regulations, they always end up hindering me... The reason I have not finished much is twofold: First, I have somehow gotten stupidly busy. My schedule went from "guess I'll be having a boring and also slightly poor October" to "and now every day of your calendar is filled with an obligation or two that shall take up all your time either attending them or preparing to attend them." It is possible that had I thought a few seconds ahead I would have realized that this is the case, but thinking ahead is not a strong point of mine. Second, I have been inexplicably tired. Actually it is not really inexplicable. It is just that the tiredness comes in starts and stops just as suddenly, which feels inexplicable. The tiredness has meant a lot of laying in bed trying to sleep which is another thing I am not good at as you may recall. This has meant less time to actively write. And so, like many writers out there, I have not managed to finish a single thing I am working on. And perhaps worse, none of them are even in a place where I could split them to post something on here...they are very, very much in progress. 

I am trying my best, my friend. 

I suppose there is a third reason that I should mention. It is the other thing that makes it very hard. 

You see I am very much in a rut. I think it could be argued that in most of my life I have felt in a rut, but for most of my life I have at least had an inkling of an idea of what to do next. That is not currently true. I think it has very much been untrue since around the time I turned 30, possibly even a bit earlier than that. I had a life goal that was not very glamorous I think, although it was very exciting, and I achieved it. And I enjoyed it, but I knew fairly early on that it was not going to be what I did for the rest of my life. 

My life goal was set at a very young age and it is one that I know many people who come from the sorts of places like I did share. It is a very common trope anyways. Person from a small town and a difficult family dreams of leaving and never coming back. I think perhaps the only thing that makes my situation a little unique is that I knew this was my goal from the time I was about 8 years old. I said as much to my mother, standing in the kitchen while my siblings argued over who would get to inherit the house when we grew up. I  happily told my mother I had no need to join in this argument because I would leave as soon as I could and not come back. 

And that is precisely what I did. I left to go to college and I never returned…

Ok not really. I did leave for college, and was gone for two years. But then I got horribly depressed and could not find my way out of a paper bag, and so I returned for the summer between my 2nd and 3rd year in college. It was not a great summer, but I (and my mother) made it through, and thankfully it was short, and so I left again…only to return for about a month after I graduated. This time it was more of a timing thing, but also…I was still definitely depressed.

But I did eventually make it work. I moved abroad at 23, and stayed abroad for a little over 8 years. Each time I succeeded in something I gave myself a new goal: travel to different countries, move to a different country, get a job as something other than an English teacher, create a potentially permanent life for yourself…

I did all that. By the time I was 30 I had lived in two different countries, traveled to about 25, gotten a job at an international school as a regular classroom teacher (what I had actually gone to school for…) and created a great support group that included friends, partners, and a fulfilling life.

And almost simultaneously my health was failing. Truthfully there were signs of it before I ever left: migraines that would last for days without relief until they simply ended on their own. Suicidal thoughts that sometimes turned towards action but never a full plan. Constant trips to the hospital for injuries I got doing fairly regular things. But I had been raised to not put any stock into these sorts of things and encouraged to figure it out on my own.

It will come as a surprise to no one that I had a full breakdown around 27. I did it alone in a foreign country, and came out of it alright, albeit with a bi-polar (II) diagnosis, and an action plan. So I packed up again and moved to a new city with a new job and some new meds. And while in the process of this I experienced near daily pain that eventually hospitalized me for a week when my system shut down and rejected anything put in it. Food, water, medication…it was not a fun time. 

And so I was diagnosed with celiacs and a soy allergy. And there was improvement after that. Until there wasn’t. Until the headaches returned, sometimes with nerve pain in my hands or shoulders or neck that was so severe that I could not move and would lay in agony or cry at my desk when my students were gone. Then I began to get sick any time I exercised, unable to breath, vomiting, or nearly collapsing in pain. I have always been active - martial arts, snowboarding, skateboarding, running…it is part of how I keep my mental health. So when I lost it, my mental health rapidly deteriorated too. Breakdowns, depression, panic attacks and rage returned and I began to only see a vague haze around me in my life in Japan. On the one hand, I loved it. It looked neat and tidy and likely enticing from afar. On the other hand I was miserable. I hated my existence and could not see any way of making it work. I could not find the next step because as far as I could tell any new step might put me at risk of not making it.

And then there was home, and all that was happening there. It is one thing to dream about leaving your family, and it is another thing to actually do it. Should you make that choice, you may find that it is hard to watch them fall apart and put themselves back together, only to fall apart again, when you are so far away and there is little you can do. 

So, I came back. 

And it is not a decision I regret. It was the right decision. But just as I knew my life in Japan was not what I had hoped it would be - the line at the end of the race - I know this is not right either. 

And so I have been a bit frozen. Unable to finish what I started this month as I wrestle with what the next, correct, step is.

So forgive me, gentle friend. I have good intentions, but sometimes life gets in the way. 

(1328)

[andhaveapleasanttomorrow]

i realised recently (as in, thursday or friday but i can't remember which) that i've been spending inordinate amounts of my time each day just mindlessly scrolling through reddit. and i think that the reason it took so long for me to realise what was happening was that it's just become another compulsion. i open reddit, i read each post i see, if it's interesting i open the comments and almost force myself to view the thoughts and opinions others have shared—even though i often don't actually care, or even very much do not want to read them. and i just do that for literal hours, at least three or four times a day.

i'm not sure where i'm going with this. i think i just felt...something...at having seen that you seem to be doing something similar (though i'll admit i'm extrapolating a fair amount of information from what you shared; a surface level, it simply reminded me of this recent realisation). i think it frightened me a bit because i saw it just as i was falling asleep (i opened tumblr for some reason that i can't remember now) and it seemed like some sort of set up. but i think it also felt comforting? despite the fact that if your feelings on this habit are at all similar to my own, you're probably just resigned to the fact that you keep doing it at this point. or maybe you enjoy it, idk. i don't know your mind.

i'm rambling. sorry. whatever. i'm just glad (and maybe a little wigged out) that i saw your post about it. and...i hope that we're both able to break this habit and find a better use of time because honestly i know it's not doing my mental state any favours, and i imagine it's probably not doing any for yours (though if i'm wrong you should definitely keep doing it. or don't. i'm not your boss).

anyway, there wasn't really a point to this ask. i just felt like sharing. hope it hasn't come off as annoying or rude. (also sorry you're going through it right now, all reddit browsing aside. hope things get better for you, or at least more tolerable.)

thank you for sharing :). I think it is probably a common issue. it's not much different than doing the same with any social media platform. something in my brain finds it a bit more forgivable because I'm reading words as opposed to image or video (although it's not like I use instagram, tiktok, etc anyways). but each comment ends very quickly (depending on the sub) and I can skip over stuff if I don't feel like reading it, so it's "easier" than actually reading, like, a book or something, which I don't think is good. I don't view it as a good use of my time. most of it does not really make me think about anything at all (again, depending on the sub). a large amount of reddit comments say basically nothing, or otherwise repeat what most everyone else is already saying, as much as possible the reason for the "thousands of words" comment is that I find it sort of baffling I can expend the mental energy to read that much but it's all going towards something with hardly any nutritional value. it's like chewing gum. engaging in the act of reading without actually receiving any information. sometimes it's cool because I find little communities I wouldn't have otherwise known about but maybe 80% of the time I'm just looking at empty bullshit that means nothing to me (and another fraction I'm looking at bullshit that probably actively harms me). I don't place the blame on reddit itself so much because I know if it wasn't this it'd be some other mind-numbing thing... think I need to get some kind of shock collar hope you can figure something out yourself but to be h I think trying to replace distractions with distractions is a vain pursuit I need to like, get up in the brainworks with a wrench and bang that shit out

[multiverseofimagines]

Begging for ship request 🙏

I'm an asexual (but in love with sensuality) bi girl with no specific preferences. I'm drawn to both genders equally. I'm INFJ and my zodiac sign is Aquarius. I'm an antisocial introvert with a melancholy disposition. Among people I don't know, I'm a bit shy, withdrawn, slightly stiff. At the very beginning you can experience many awkward situations with me. I need time to trust other person and open up more. Among friends I'm more confident, less withdrawn and more laid back. I'm generally calm, forbearing, modest, kind, sensitive, but also impatient, lazy, and slightly cowardly. I have troubles with showing deep feelings. I listen more, talk less. I often act as a private psychologist, but when worrying about someone else's problems overburden me and tires me, I can unfortunately burst into anger. I'm usually organized, I'm trying stay out of troubles, and sometimes sacrifice my comfort for someone or a given situation just to stay in a so-called "safe soap bubble". I'm aware that this means that I can never learn to live, suffer great harm, never gain experience - and when I'll be at the very end, I'll experience it twice as hard as I even should. I'm a little scared of it, but nvm. I don't know how it is to be in relationship. I've never loved anyone, no one has ever loved me. I try to get good grades in school, although I'm not one of the most intelligent people. I can be jealous of someone's achievements, which I react to by hiding in the corner of my house, crying and blaming myself for being insufficient and not being able to have the same things as others have.

What do I like? Watching movies and series, especially the romantic ones, most often with lgbt+ threads. Reading fanfiction about ships. Listening to music: I have a weakness for various types of metal (apart from black metal, because I'm discouraged by it), more of the one created since 2000, now I'm just starting with classics; moreover, I like trap soul. Drinking sweet coffee. Eating spicy food. Eating sweets, especially for breakfast on an empty stomach (dumb, Ikr). Taking warm baths in the tub. I love it when someone plays with my hair or runs their hands over my back. Platypus and elks. Nice and shapely hands. Long sleep. Trips to places I haven't been to before. Compliments in my direction, which can build my low self-esteem. Thinking, pondering the problems of the external world and people, making reflections. Sometimes I like to dream, to look ahead. Listen to low voices or whispers.

I ship you with….

Robin Buckley

Robin can probably relate to your introversion and the awkwardness of starting a friendship or relationship.

She’s open, and honest and I feel as though that’s something you value. She would also be the most open to you being Asexual, I don’t think she would care much nor pressure you.

You guys would bond over love of movies and music. Movie dates would be an often occurrence.

She’s bad with emotions, and doesn’t know how to help when you breakdown but she definitely tries her best for you. Sometimes she’ll ramble, and end up distracting you/making you laugh.

I feel like you two would become fast friends despite both of your introverted tendencies. She says whatever comes to mind and that makes it a lot easier for you to let loose a little. She really opens you up.

She would love to play with your hair, I feel like Robin isn’t a huge touch person, at least for people to herself, but she loves those little touches, the ones that don’t make her flinch or uncomfy. Hand holding, hair touching and light soft touches upon the back. (She’s def not a huge hug person)

She always has coffee for you when Steve and Her pick you up, she lets you borrow one of her thermos mugs, she makes sure its sweet, filled with coffee flavouring (she has a soft spot for hazlenut and vanilla.)

She loves how often you help the people around you, but is brutal honest in telling you that your spending too much time on other peoples feelings rather than your own. She grounds you in a reality you never thought was possible before.)

(sorry if this is short, I just had surgery 💗)

Look-Book

I feel as though your a person who optimizes comfort, over, overall fashion. You definitely are a creative, and into aesthetics, but I feel like your also the type of person that gets overstimulated easily, and doesn’t like to be centre of attention. You come off laid back, but your also a perfectionist, and have a lack of confidence. I feel like you would choose outfits that not only self preserve this idea of being studious, and quiet, but also laidback, and comfortable. You definitely have a tendency to hide behind your clothes and style, and Robin is extremely similar. She likes little tokens, touchstones in her wardrobe, necklaces, and rings but her overall look is very laid back and introverted.

Playlist

[lyracasstuff]

I am NOT prepared to make myself sad,, you FRENCHIE!! ಥ⌣ಥ

However,, I will accept because as much as it pains me to write angst,, I also have to in order to improve my writing skills..

I'll do this in one shot/fic form as I feel as though I can convey emotions there better. That and I've been doing headcannons as of late,, so let's switch it up a notch..

WARNINGS: DEATH, BLOOD, SPOILERS FOR JOSEPH'S BACKSTORY

Joseph x fem! S/o

To be Sick at Heart💔

"How did this all happen?" thought the Frenchman, although it was more retorical, as he already knew deep down the answer to that question... He just can't accept it..

You had been an acquaintance to Joseph before, seeing as how your family served him, and the both of you only grew closer once you got caught in the twisted "games" of the manor. Joseph asked as to what had tempted you to accept the invitation of the manor.

It turns out, you were looking to find people who you can treat as your own family. In all your life, you practically had been treated like dirt, especially the time when Joseph had gone missing. Your family had given you love and acceptance, but it was short-lived seeing as how their lives were slowly taken from them early on in your life by sickness, you had no one but the other servants to take care of you.

The other servants cared for you, but not to the same extent as your family... You were aware of that fact as did they. So, when the invitation arrived, you couldn't help but accept right away.

It promised that "they" could fulfill your desire of having the bonds and relationships that you never had growing up, why wouldn't you accept? You would be missing out on a golden oppurtunity.

And so, that was how you ended up in this morbid manor, tricked and forced to participate in these "games" that gets everyone hurt much like every other survivor who came here...

Days had gone by. Weeks. Months. Hell, even years, and you were all still being forced to play.

Thankfully, you had everyone to keep you company during these times.. Thanks to your loving nature, you were able to be close with everyone in the manor, even those who are notorious at being secretive like Norton. You even managed to befriend some of the hunters as well.

But most especially of all, you were thankful you had Joseph to be there with you.

You were quite shocked when you saw the silver-haired count, as he had seemingly disappeared out of nowhere the last time. So to see him here made you pleasantly surprised.

Joseph as well felt shocked when he saw you here, albeit he took some time to figure who exactly you were as you looked extremely familiar to him.

It didn't take long for the both of you to grow close to each other where outside of matches, you two were practically inseperable. The both of you would be spotted having afternoon tea together, walking around the manor together, sightseeing for new photoshoot locations together.

You always did things together...

Over time though, you would grow feelings for the count and the same can be said for Joseph as well. However, your fears of being rejected has delayed the both of you from ever confessing about your feelings toward each other. The others in the manor can most definitely see your connection as bright as day, but they really didn't know how to go about helping you about it. After all, all of them never really had great experiences in their lives, so they don't know what would normally be best in a situation like this..

Despite this, you can't help but feel content and happy that you have found people that you can treat as your family. Emily and Michiko were like motherly figures to you with their kind nature. Leo treated you like his own daughter, much like how he treats Emma. Wu Chang, Andrew, Norton, Naib, and Eli were like big brothers for you, always being protective of you to keep you safe.

You really felt at home with all of the inhabitants. It almost felt as if being stuck in a manor wasn't so bad after all...

Almost

There was still one more thing you wanted to do. You had discovered your family, but you wanted to expand on that desire..

You wanted to start your own family

And you would want to do so with someone you love... That someone would be the Frenchman with whom you have grown immense feelings for.. So you sent him an invitation to go to the balcony of the garden at night, where you won't be disturbed by the others...

Unbeknownst to you, the Frenchman had been thinking the same thing, especially after reading the invitation you sent him. Can you blame him though? Seeing you interacting with him, along with all of the others, made him feel butterflies in his stomach. How you unconditionally helped the other inhabitants through their issues and suffering, not because you needed something from them, but because you wanted to. You wanted to help them, you wanted to nurture them, you wanted to support them...

With that feeling alone, Joseph finds that he just couldn't take it anymore... He wants to confess to you..

He wants to be with you, to call you his love, to marry you and call you his wife, and to start a family as well..

With that thought, he made up his mind and decided to accept your invitation, and there, he will confess..

It was night time, you were already at the balcony waiting, knowing that Joseph values punctuality and doesn't like to be kept waiting. Soon after, Joseph shows up. It seems as though he had been brisk walking which is evident by the way he's catching his breath in the slightest.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly and calmly began to confess your feelings towards him and how you wanted to start building a future with him as the father of your children.

Joseph was in awe, for he had never could've guessed that you felt the same way. He accepted, saying how he had always thought about you the same way, and that he would be honored to be the father of your children. Joseph took a few steps towards you, with you unconsciously doing the same. Joseph wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer, while you wrapped yours around his neck.

He lifted his hand and tilted your chin upwards to stare at your features, admiring them. The way your skin glistened in the moonlight, how your eyes sparkled with life when he stared at them. How your cheeks were flushed with the slightest hint of color.

You looked angelic to him.

Brushing his thumb over your lower lip, he slowly closed his eyes as he allowed his lips to connect with yours.. You can't help but reciprocate immediately, you'd been waiting for this moment to come. You truly felt happy that you took the risk to confess to him, knowing that he may have rejected you instead.

And that was the start of your blossoming relationship...

For the next few years, the two of you became more and more in love with each other every single day. Countless affirmations of love, bouquets of your favorite flowers, numerous cuddling sessions, along with the discussion of having a domestic life together..

You two really had the potential to have a wonderful life together...

But, there are repercussions in growing fond of the potential...

One time at a match, you had been feeling dizzier and more nauseous by the second, so much so that it frequently disoriented you from kiting the hunter properly. At some point even, you threw up a bit. Your team still won the match since the hunter decided to go friendly in the end because of your condition, however they were still concerned for you so they sent you immediately to Emily.

You were diagnosed to be pregnant..

Your thoughts immediately went to Joseph. A mixture of joy and anxiousness washed over you. Can be a good mother for your child? Can you really do this? Can you really start a family like you had promised? What if you do something wrong? What if you're not cut out for this?

Just as your thoughts began to generate more questions, Joseph runs in and looks over to you with wide eyes. Emily must've told him that you were pregnant with his child. He immediately went towards your bed and hugged you as he sobbed his heart out.

He was so convinced that the bright future you two head towards is certain...

Oh, how a fool he was for believing so....

2 months in and your belly hasn't been growing rapidly.. Normally, you would've had a small baby bump forming on your belly... Joseph and Emily had been constantly reassuring you that you might need to readjust your diet more to fit your baby's needs....

But, that's not the only thing bothering you...

You see, just as you haven't "developed" your baby, your dizziness and nausea didn't go away. For quite sometime, you thought it was normal.....

Until you see tiny specks and droplets of blood on your hand...

That's when you realize....

You're not actually pregnant.. You're sick...

Having this sudden realization, you quickly washed your hand and looked at yourself in the mirror... Maybe this was some sort of mistake? Maybe you're actually pregnant and you just scratched the inside of your cheek?

You were hoping. Praying, that it was anything else other than a sickness... However, as time passed, you felt yourself growing weaker and weaker...

For months, you had kept this sickness of yours a secret. You didn't want to make anyone worry about you and you especially didn't want to disappoint Joseph with the fact that you're not actually carrying a baby or make him devastated with your death just as he became devastated with his twin brother's death...

However, try as you may, the longer you kept it a secret, the more the others noticed. How your skin was getting paler, how your cheeks had started to sink in, how you became alarmingly skinnier and bonier, how your eyes became more dull and lifeless...

Most importantly, at how you became increasingly more secretive and quiet about all this.

Joseph was by far being more and more anxious than before. He didn't know what was happening. He wasn't an expert in medicine, but even he could notice that this isn't normal for a pregnancy..

Quickly carrying you to Emily, he asked for a check-up to see what was happening. You would've stopped him if it weren't for the fact that you were so weak, you couldn't move a muscle without hurting it.. There, he was informed about the condition you're in. He was just as shocked as you are, but there's a mixture of fear and hopelessness bubbling inside him...

No. He couldn't let this happen. Not again...

His breathing starts going rapid, his hands start shaking, he hugs himself as he looks at you at your weakened state with tears threatening to spill from his eyes...

Just as he was about to confront you, Victor had entered and pointed towards the main hall, signaling Joseph and Emily to go there.

Apparently, there's a meeting that's going to be held.

Joseph and Emily looked at each other before turning to look at you. Then, they quickly left the room, with you all alone inside with nothing but your thoughts and the life within you.. Or, what's left of it...

The meeting started once Joseph and Emily arrived as they were the only ones left to attend. Emily had to quickly explain your condition when some of the others questioned your whereabouts.. All were quite shocked and concerned about your sickness, however the meeting was said to be an important one so they had to stay. They'll just have to relay the information given to you by the time it's done..

After the meeting, everyone was so shocked and confused that for several moments, no one said a word.. Who wouldn't though? Because after all this time...

They were all finally free

Free from the clutches of the manor, free from the twisted "games", free from the prison that presented itself as a grand oppurtunity for everyone to get what they want.

They were free at last... Now, they can all live their lives as they want it to be...

Suddenly realizing this, Joseph quickly made his way back to your room. There was still hope he thought, he had hoped for you to get better and finally leave this prison together, along with the others.

But what he saw when he opened the door made him feel like his heart had been crushed into a million pieces...

There in your room, was you lying in your bed, breath shallow and rapid, crimson blood dripping from the side of your mouth and staining the sheets, your eyes looking duller and duller as ever...

You were grasping..

Grasping for whatever life you had left within you, it made Joseph run to your side quickly as he cradled your head in his arms, proclaiming you'll be fine and that you're all free now and that you just need to hold on for a little while longer..

But you both know that you won't make it..

You both know that Joseph is more so convincing himself, than convincing you..

The others had rushed in to see you, and they too were crushed for they also wished for you to escape with all of them...

You held Joseph's hand, and told him not to worry anymore.. Looking towards the others, you proclaimed that you had finally found the people that you can call your family, and that even if Joseph can't see you, you'll always be there for him no matter what.. And that you wish for him to be happy and enjoy his newfound freedom, without the confinements of the manor...

Joseph begged you to stay, to hang on, to stay strong, all while sobbing uncontrollably but to no avail...

You withdrew your final breath as your hand became limp, your eyes closed, and your body going cold...

...

...

...

You had died

For the second time in his life, he once again witnessed the death of someone he deeply cared about..

First Claude......... And now, you....

Joseph lost it as he let all his tears and sadness out.. Everyone, soon followed suit. They can't help but be crushed at the thought of their friend never making it on time for the escape....

The now former inhabitants of the manor prepared one last funeral in honor of your death, with Aesop embalming you, Andrew preparing the hole from which will forever be your resting place, Emma preparing the funeral flowers, while the others prepared the venue... The Red Church.. Everyone gathered and mourned for your death. By the end of it all, everyone left the cemetery and the manor together, with Joseph gripping a bar of the gate, longing to see you again once more and hoping that you were still alive somehow...

Alas, it never came. And so, he reluctantly left the manor and had trenched forward to live his life "to the fullest"...

But how can he ever live his life as he pleases when you're not around? How can he simply enjoy the pleasures of life when you aren't there to accompany him? How can he move on when he doesn't want to forget you?

These thoughts plague him constantly, as he stirs his tea mindlessly, looking into the distance, as his new "family" were chatting happily, not knowing what goes on inside his head..

He has a family now alright, but it wasn't perfect.. It wasn't with you.

That thought is enough to make him sick at heart, for he will never experience the joy he had longed for when you were still around...

Sick at Heart : to experience deep unpleasant emotions such as grief or disappointment

💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞💔🎞

Author's Note: I hope you are all satisfied with this angst, Frenchie... Because you really made my day a bit sadder than usual..

Can someone pls request something fluffy the next time I open my requests?? I need some comforting chocolate cake after that bitter black coffee moment..(╥_╥)

Well,, until next time then! See you all in my next post!! (Ｔ▽Ｔ)💚

[soullikethesea]

Therapy was pretty good.

She opened by saying that she thinks I'm gifted (highly intelligent, social and sensitive). Ehm, what? I kind of ignored it because I wasn't sure what to do with that information.

Then she talked about some body stuff. She said she felt a lot of pressure in her stomach and that it was probably my feeling she was picking up on. She said that sometimes it can help if a feeling moves in your body, because the pressure can also get heavy from staying in one place. Then she talked about how there can be dissociative barriers in the body. That for me it usually takes a while before something she says reaches me and for others it can be a very sudden thing, and that it may be because of dissociation.

I've definitely noticed that I need quite a long time to process things. One of the reasons why I'm usually not super good at responding in difficult moments when it is about my emotions.

Then I shared a bit about Lucas. How back then I kind of shaped myself into something that would survive the environment at my dad's place. As a young child I was actually not shy at all and quite extroverted, but that changed completely. Kind of overnight, although I definitely studied my very-quiet sister. I was trying to talk about how Lucas is scared to go outside and the T said that maybe it is an adaptation to knowing that there is no escape anyway. I don't know... I remembered that my brother got sick (ear infection) around that time and he didn't go to school for some months. He was doing quite poorly, with infected eyes from the long hair that got in his face all the time. Caveties from teeth that were rarely brushed. He rarely ever left the house in all that time and when I stayed with my dad it was the same for me. I would brush my teeth and I tried to dress my brother so at least he wouldn't be so cold all the time (he didn't seem to feel cold sensations). I also remember setting alarms and trying so hard each morning to get my dad to get me to school on time so I wouldn't be punished for being late. It was kind of a lot to handle.

The thing that is hard for me is that my mum was happy that my personality changed. The T said that she also thinks that's problematic. Apparently it's a warning sign if children become withdrawn overnight.

Well, and then we talked more about Mae's suicide note. I shared about how I decided not to leave a note in the end, because I wanted people to think it was an accident and I didn't want anyone to blame themselves. T said that this was taking the invisibility coping technique to the extreme. And she seemed to get misty eyed.

I was pretty awkward around that, but she said she was having a very healthy and appropriate response to what I'd just shared. I'm sorry I couldn't feel any of that, still.

We ended by talking a little bit about how I'll have to figure out what to do next work-wise.

[creepypocky]

Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

[cathrrrine]

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 19: NOVI GRAD

Time passed by quickly. The sun had set long ago, and yet there was still no sign of the Captain showing up. I turned to Pietro with a frown on my face. Although I had no right to complain, I wasn't one to be patient and I had made that clear from the start.

"Rogers still not showing up?"

"Not yet."

"Surely, he must be on his way or something."

"He said he had to pick up a few things."

"Well, it feels like I'll turn to a pile of bones if he takes any longer."

Pietro scoffed, shaking his head at me. "Relax, Y/N. It's been 6 hours."

He was right, I should relax. But I was bouncing at the edge of my seat, anxiety picking at my nerves. I couldn't help but think about how I'd been roped into some elaborate plan that was going to end up badly and I'd agreed to it. Soberly. Even though it wasn't exactly against my will, I hated not being able to exactly predict how things would end. Putting my fate in their hands felt like a death sentence. But at least, it was a better one than the one awaiting me previously.

I'm going crazy.

I was sprawled out on my old blue dusty couch and Pietro was sitting on the floor with his back to it, our empty mugs were long forgotten on the floor. Tea had been uneventful and silent, as I'd liked it to be, save for the few exchanges of our usual banter. We left the lights off, just in case someone came looking for us. There was a very good chance of Natasha Romanoff, Nick Fury or even Wanda Maximoff - Pietro's twin sister - barging in to drag us back where we belonged. Pietro, to his teammates, and me to my cell.

"You know what would be great right now?" He suddenly spoke up, his speech slurred from drowsiness. Sure enough, his following words came through a yawn. "Beer."

"Oh, I have plenty of beer..." He perked up a bit, but that quickly disappeared. "...bottles."

"That sarcasm never really leaves you, huh?"

"I was just answering. You never specified." I was getting tired and restless. "Ugh, where the hell is Steve?!"

"Like I said, he'll be here. Jesus, you're like a little kid, Y/N."

"Sure. But like, Esther from Orphan." I was heavily aware of how dark it was getting outside. "It's almost 10, are you sure he didn't just leave you here with a killer to deal with?"

He sat up, "Okay, enough of this. I don't think I can handle another second of your behaviour."

"I'm just bored." I groaned, not bothering to veil my obvious disdain.

"And? What do you want me to do?" He scoffed, tossing his hair out of his eyes to give me a look as equally frustrated as the one I wore. "I'm not your jester, Your Highness."

"I don't know, but you better entertain me before my patience runs thin. You know what they say, boredom seeks trouble."

"No one says that."

"I say that." I swung myself off my ass from the couch, making a show of it by sighing dramatically. My feet led me to an old almost empty bookshelf, and my hands absentmindedly rummaged through its contents. It was a small shelf, and it used to be filled with my random belongings. A few knick-knacks here and there, a couple of books that I unironically enjoyed. It also served as a place where I would store my weapons, just out of sight if someone would suddenly stumble into my home but definitely within reach if that someone turned out to be one of the people I was running from. "Are you implying that I'm a no one?"

Pietro laughed, "No, I'm just implying that you're a little aloof. Or actually, a lot."

Honestly, if I was in a different situation right now, I would've already had him in a chokehold. Can you blame me? The speedster was a bit annoying. His peculiar antics were never-ending and he was starting to get on my nerves. I wonder how the Avengers dealt with him. Maybe Steve wasn't as honest as he seems and all along, he wanted to get rid of Pietro by dumping him on me. I chuckled to myself at the thought of the Avengers scrambling away from Pietro like cartoon characters. "Careful with that tongue of yours, Maximoff."

"Why? What are you going to do about it? Are you going to arrest me?" He grinned, a perfect display of his personality. I think I'm getting to know him pretty well. The main thing is how irritating he could be. Being stuck with him for hours proved that point.

I balled up my fist, my knuckles cracking. I wasn't going to punch him, not really. But it was pretty funny to see how his expression switched quickly, his grin fading. I shook my head in exasperation, letting my fist uncurl. I tsked, "Dala baba dinar da se uhvati u kolo, a dva da se pusti." Which was just a long way of saying be careful what you wish for.

He blinked. Once, then twice. Then he kept on staring at me with his eyes wide open like his eyelids suddenly stopped working.

"What the fuck is up with you?" I waved a hand in front of his face, not knowing what to do. "Are you having some kind of speedster aneurysm?"

"Nah." he snapped out of his momentary trance, shaking his head and ripping his gaze from mine. "No, it was just...the thing you said."

"What thing?"

"You know," he shrugged, the previously cocky and irksome Pietro suddenly disappearing, replaced by a very pensive one. "Dala baba..." He trailed off.

"Oh." My mind raced through all the possibilities of why he would be so bothered by an old saying. "The idiom?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

"Why?" Almost automatically, my walls came shooting back up. Any talk of my past was off-limits.

He grew even quieter. I could barely hear him breathe. If it wasn't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, I would've thought him dead. Which wasn't far from the truth, with his lack of movement, anyone could've mistaken him as a corpse.

"Pietro?" I tried. No reply. "Hey, you're scaring me here."

"Sorry." He mumbled, biting his bottom lip in an effort to keep it from quivering. "My mother used to say that to me all the time."

"I didn't expect you to react so severely to it."

"I didn't either, believe me." He chuckled half-heartedly, his mind wandering off to who knows where. "How the hell do you know Sokovian?"

Oh. OH.

How did I miss that? The accent, the way he talks, even his fucking name! Pietro Maximoff was Sokovian through and through. The fact that it slipped my notice made me doubt my observation skills. But then again, I had a lot on my plate. Pietro's nationality was the last thing on my mind.

"I can understand and hold a conversation in over 20 languages. Sokovian just happens to be one of them."

"No shit, you polyglot." He smiled with another roll of his eyes. I wonder if his eyeballs would ever get stuck one day, judging by the number of eye rolls he did in a day. "But a local must have taught you that phrase, right? Who was it?"

A pair of piercing green eyes appeared in the forefront of my mind, rendering me speechless for a while. It was a memory I hadn't dared to visit ever since it happened. Pietro was undoing all the work I had done to forget. It was an innocent question. But like I said, it was a conversation that was off-limits. Especially that one.

The urge to punch him appeared again. Does he think this is an impromptu interrogation session?

"I'm not going to use it against you, you know. I'm just curious. Sokovia means a lot to me. It's my home."

Was. Before it got destroyed. Something in the tone of his voice cushioned my rising temper. Soft, reminiscent, sad. My feet brought me back to the couch, but this time I sat down next to him on the floor. We weren't exactly close, but the couch wasn't exactly big and I wanted to have something to lean on.

Reluctantly, I confessed. "It was my home too."

His head turned to look at me so quickly I feared his neck would break, "No way. You're not Sokovian! You can't be."

My face scrunched up, "Why not?"

"You said you were Russian."

"Half." I corrected him. Was he really putting my nationality up for debate?

"Oh my god." His eyes were wide. "So, you're half-Sokovian?"

I paused, wondering if I should just straight up lie to his face just to see how he would react. He was waiting for my answer, still in disbelief that his enemy turned out to be his neighbour once upon a time. He seemed carefully gentle while talking about his hometown. The look on his face proved just how close he held Sokovia to his heart. I figured the fib wasn't worth it.

"No, I'm not." I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wish I was Sokovian, at least then it would mean I'd know my full identity. I watched as Pietro seemed to relax a bit as he faced away from me and fully leaned on the couch again, his long legs stretched out before him on the floor. "But it's true, I did live there for a bit. A friend bought me there."

"The same friend who taught you the language?"

I shrugged, trying to act casual.

"I'm surprised you even have friends."

"I'm surprised I haven't murdered you yet."

An odd sound rumbled from his chest. Laughter, I realised after a while. "See, that's exactly why."

Irony has come to bite me back in the ass. What goes around, comes around after all.

"I was born and raised in Sokovia. Wanda and I have some pretty good memories there." The hilarity that danced in his eyes before glazed over, "I wish they were only good ones though."

I bit my tongue down, knowing that this wasn't the time for any of my sarcastic quips. Try as I may, I don't think I could deny that I didn't really want to hurt Pietro now. Not emotionally, at least. Because I knew how it felt like to lose a home.

"War is a terrible thing." He sneered, eyes growing hard and cold. I knew that look. I'd be able to recognize it from a mile away. Resentment, reserved for the people that had tainted his past. He changed the subject almost immediately, "So, where did you stay in Sokovia?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I scoffed, "Well, I lived in Novi Grad for a few years."

"Really?" His whole face lit up at the mention of it. Novi Grad was the capital city of Sokovia. I did most of my hiding and running there. It wasn't exactly a vacation. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever been on one. Assassins don't exactly have annual leaves.

"Yeah. Don't look so surprised." Pietro's raised eyebrows and open-mouthed expressions were beginning to get a little bit repetitive. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the soreness that had set in my muscles from sitting too long. "I followed a girl who led me there. Come to think of it, if I had never met her I'd be dead by now."

Killed. By The Winter Soldier, ruthlessly. I shuddered at the thought of him. His merciless gaze and bleak expression. My mind reeled back to the green-eyed girl wearing a niqab, the first time I had met her. She saved me from him by allowing me to echo her. If it hadn't been for her...

"Her name was Haadiyah." I tried not to show any emotions. But God, I was crying on the inside. "She led me to Sokovia. Helped me find a place to live in, set everything up for me. She was a good friend, the best. Something that I never had before."

The usage of past tense did not go unnoticed by the speedster, "Was?"

I wanted so badly to swipe the back of my hands at my eyes that were welling up already, but instead, I just looked up at the ceiling so the tears wouldn't come falling. I prayed for Pietro to look away. This was not a side of me I was prepared to show anyone. Much less, him.

Thankfully, when I glanced at him, he was facing the ceiling as well. We had both put our heads on the couch that was now serving as a headrest.

"Yeah. Hydra killed her." I tried to will my voice to be stable, but the crack in it was unavoidable. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "They found me. Raided my house with bullets. She'd been there when they ransacked my house."

I felt dizzy again as images of her dead, bullet-riddled body appeared in the forefront of my mind. I tried to push them back, buried deep in the corner of my brain that I wished to never visit, but it was useless. The dam was now broken. Memories of that day had already come flooding. The little Dutch boy had run away.

Talking about Haadiyah felt like someone had cut up a hole in my body. I felt useless against the tide of emotions that seemed to control me more than I could control them. My heart pounded against my chest, each heartbeat a painful reminder that Haadiyah's wasn't doing the same. I never mourned her properly, never had the luxury of burying what was left of her body and giving her a proper funeral. I never allowed myself to think about her because I found it too hard to do so. She had been my first and only genuine friend.

I don't think I ever knew what a friend was until I met her.

"I don't know how I made it out. I'm grateful to her forever." I lowered my voice to a faint sigh, "I didn't deserve her."

It was true. I didn't deserve the type of kindness she had shown me so willingly. Every day, I wish I could go back in time and fix everything, starting with her. If I knew then what I know now, I would've never taken her hand. I desperately wish I could give her the life I wasn't worthy of having. She would've done so much more with it.

It should've been me.

Softly - almost inaudibly - he said, "Haadiyah...she must be the one who taught you Sokovian, huh?"

I turned to him, and this time it took me by surprise when I saw that he was facing me, too. With held back tears, I nodded slowly. It was fully dark by now. The light coming in from the windows cast irregular shadows over his face, the only thing visible being his deep-set eyes, observing me with mindful deliberation. But even in the dark, I could make out the shape of his chiselled face.

We basked in the silence, both of us left with a lack of words. Leave it to me to darken the mood.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He whispered finally, speaking into the damp air.

My heart cried, bleeding tears of pent up sadness. "Me too."

CRASH!

The sound cut off any possible continuation of our conversation. It was the sound of glass breaking, right outside our door.

"Shit," I mumbled under my breath, quickly getting rid of the tear stains on my cheeks as I shot up from the floor. I could hear Pietro standing as well, both of us staying close to each other in the darkness of the room.

It could've been anything, anyone. But we didn't exactly have the comfort of nonchalance or ignorance, plus we couldn't exactly rely on pure luck. Besides, I never had a penchant for it. Luck is for the amateurs. My hand swiped down to the pocket of my trousers, reaching for the switchblade that I had stuffed inside earlier. I brought it up to my front, ready to fight.

"Where'd you get that?" Pietro whispered over my shoulder.

I found it on the bookshelf that I had rummaged through during our conversation. But I didn't tell him that. "Magic."

"So, what? You're a wizard now, too?"

"Oh my god." I shushed him violently, "Would you shut up?"

"You don't tell me what to do-" Knock. Knock. Knock.

The wooden door shook slightly under the weight of the firm knock. Pietro put his hand on my shoulder, moving closer to my side. He squeezed my shoulder, "If anything happens, you know what to do."

Run.

The door handle jiggled. Someone was trying to get in. The question was who? A random intruder? A neighbour who got the wrong door? Romanoff and Fury?

"Guys." A muffled voice spoke from the other side of the door. "Let me in."

Pietro and I turned to each other. I felt my lip tremble as I saw his frown break out into a giant grin. I couldn't help it. I found myself reflecting on his glee, trying not to burst into a fit of laughter.

"Guys? It's dark out here."

Pietro unlocked the door and swung it open. "Steve!"

Steve. How could we forget about STEVE? The one person I'd been rotting for while waiting for him.

"Hurry up, someone could see us." Us? It was only then I realised that there was another figure following closely behind him.

"What took you so long?" I raised an eyebrow, shoving my switchblade back into my pocket.

"I had to manage a few things and cover my tracks." He explained, reaching over to lock the door. "They know now."

"Who?" I already knew the answer.

"The rest of the team. Natasha texted me. There's a search out for us."

"Well, same shit, different day," I smirked. "It's not the first time I've got a bounty on my head."

"What are we going to do?" Pietro crossed his arms across his chest.

"We're getting out of here."

"And where are we headed? I don't think I have enough gas left in my tank."

"He means the country, Maximoff." I looked at Steve. One look at the Captain and I knew what was coming next.

"Yeah." Steve nodded. "I've already prepared our transport. Pietro, Y/N, meet Sam Wilson. He's helping us with everything."

"Nice to meet you both." He stretched out his hand for each of us to shake. I took it cautiously, trying to read the man. He was wearing a dark blue jacket over a grey shirt, but his buff arms were hard to not notice under the thin fabric. He sported a clean crewcut.

"Military man?" I eyed him up and down.

He looked taken aback, "Air force. Steve told you about me before?"

I shook my head. I wasn't too fond of Steve bringing in a stranger last minute. But even if I didn't trust Steve completely, I could trust his eagerness to look for him. He wouldn't just let someone random tag along if he wanted this rogue mission to work.

"He's flying us out." Steve clarified.

"But to where?" Pietro's voice sounded like it was far off in the distance even though he was right beside me. I was trying to keep my cool, knowing full well that what Steve was going to say was going to shake me a little.

Steve didn't break his eye contact with me. "Our next destination is up to Y/N."

My head spun with recollections of the past. Screaming, crying, thrashing around like a helpless animal. One voice stood out from it all, his voice, mechanical and piercing. I tried not to escape it. For once in my life, I needed the memory to focus.

Routes. He had said. Unguarded borders.

Although I wasn't sure, it was better than nothing. Judging from what Rogers had told me about his last appearance and from what I knew, I thought it was credible enough.

Safehouse. Temporary.

"Romania." I finally sighed. "Our next destination is Romania."

Futu. Fuck.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I A VENOMOUS INTERLUDE

Did y'all know symbrock is canon? Well, now you do. Reader's favourite deadbeat surrogate uncle is in town and he brought a... Friend. No warnings, just a boatload of crack and fluff, as usual. Reader being mouthy. Takes place a little bit into the future - around after chapter 32: spoiler alert is useless because we already know a tonybrucestrange/reader quartet is the endgame. 💖💝✨

"What," I had to pause for a second for my brain to catch up with my eyes. "The fuck?!"

It was truly a miracle I could say anything out loud, at all. Words weren't valid enough to describe my shock and confusion. The scene unfolding in front of me resembled and unholy cross between a B-rated horror movies about demonic possession and some deep-sea Eldritch monstrosity.

The eight-feet tall black, oozing dude in front of me? Yes, you, with the teeth. Ctulhu called, he wants his tentacles back.

The creature honest to god rippled, like some nightmare-fuel goth Jell-O, rapidly shrinking in size within seconds. As more of the black tar-like substance receded, a much more human form started to appear under it. Worn jeans, leather jacket, ungroomed beard and the look of a biker gang member coming off a serious bender.

"Uh, Princess?"

"Eddie. Fucking. Brock. Uncle Idiot." I punctuated each word with an increasing widening of my eyes. The world was fucking nuts. Two and two did not compute - Eddie might have looked threatening to some people - like white suburban Karens - even without the... Gooey squid-on-steroids thing he had going on. The man was built like a fucking brick shithouse, but I knew him way too well. Eddie couldn't be that badass to save a life.

"You two know each other?" Tony shrieked indignantly, a coarseness in his voice that indicated only one thing: my boo was well into his third drink. Hell, I didn't blame him - that gaping toothy maw was fucking gnarly.

Hands on my hips, I caught myself slipping into a mute rage, storming over to the 200lbs worth of pure dumbass and knocking him right in the face. "You! Didn't tell! ME!" A black tendril wrapped around my wrist, carefully but firmly securing it and preventing me from causing my non-related uncle any more physical damage. Although I must admit, my knuckles probably were more affected than his jaw. "You! Are! A MUTANT!!! HOW COULD YOU?! How could you NOT tell ME?"

I trusted the man with my soul and most embarrassing drinking stories. Hell, I called Eddie in a stoned haze the very same night I lost my v-card. I just thought we were bros, you know? I saw his whole fucking life implode more than once and personally flew to California to ice his injuries and his hurt ego countless times. I was done dirty in the worst way.

"I'm not-" Eddie's sigh was long-suffering. "I, uh, I have a parasite..." He sounded meek, in the same way he used to describe his drunkenly misconduct when I made our family driver bail out his ass outta jail in the morning.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" A deep gravelly voice thundered, seemingly coming out of his chest?

"Okay, okay," Eddie smiled. It was strangely soft and un-eddie-like. The only person he smiled like that was... used to be Anne. "This is Venom. They're an alien and we're, uh, a thing. It's a recent development." The tentacle unwrapped itself from me as I took an involuntary step back.

Even barring the fact that Eddie was dating an alien, this was way too fucking weird for 3 o'clock on a Sunday. I always knew the reporter was, for the lack of a better word, a little weird but he really took it to new heights. With Thor and Loki looking... Like that, I could see a human dating some sort of a hot alien. But with Ctulhu looking the way he did just minutes ago? Did Eddie seriously let all of those teeth in close proximity of his dick?

I had a "ERROR 404, common sense not found" hanging over me for the longest time. The others were quiet behind me, too, even Tony - one of my boyfriends, the most likely to cause utter chaos, was hanging back and expecting me to do something.

"Venom," I clarified, just to fill the silence with some noise while my brain processors re-synced.

"WE ARE VENOM." The tentacle that was sleek and black now had two completely white eyes and a smaller-scale version of the toothy grin that had drooled all over the common room carpet. Their voice had an interesting effect: it was so deep, the air around them vibrated slightly when they spoke.

I tilted my head examining the appendage. It was considerably less terrifying when it wasn't five times my size. "What are you?" And most importantly, are you a threat to my favourite non-related family member? I left that statement unspoken although it was obvious I was ready to fight it? Them? If need be.

"A SYMBIOTE," They replied, swaying the head-tentacle slowly. "WE LOVE EDDIE AND KEEP HIM ALIVE AND HEALTHY." So, they understood the actual question.

"Which is fucked up because Klyntar usually behave in the opposite way." Hearing Thor swear was, perhaps, even more unsettling than finding out about the symbiote-alien-boyfriend thing my uncle had going on. The thunderer himself was nursing a jug of golden liquid. The good Asgardian stuff, he must've been really fucking bamboozled.

"Okay. So anybody wanna fill me on the details before I beat up my favourite idiot?" I sighed, pointedly looking at Tony.

"I thought I was your favourite idiot!" He immediately retorted, hurt, but nonetheless opened his arms to give me a grounding embrace. We may have sucked face for a few seconds, because why the hell not, Tony was an amazing kisser and his tongue down my throat was very calming.

"Hold up, what the fuck?" Now it was Eddie's turn to act all offended. "Aren't you a little too young for him?"

"You and your most likely carnivorous goth space pudding can fuck right off if you're not going to be supportive of my very inappropriate, very polyamorous relationship with three incredibly hot boomers," I shot back, slipping into some resemblance of normalcy. Me and Eddie go way, way back and shitting on each other's bad life decisions was the founding stone of our bromance. Hell, he was the guy who showed me the wonders of sarcasm at an early age! Wonderbaum!

"There's three of them?" Eddie's voice pitched and he gaped, palming his face.

"SHE HAS A POINT, EDDIE. WE EAT PEOPLE. BEING UNSUPPORTIVE WOULD MAKE US LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE." Eddie's buddy stated, sounding almost fed up. So, they were sentient enough to recognize how much of a pain in the ass Eddie could be. I could work with that, disregarding the cannibalism comment, of course. What the fuck was up with that?

"Yes, Eddie, I also periodically bump uglies and trade disgustingly sweet text messages with the Hulk and a badass wizard," I rolled my eyes at the reporter's following gasp and angry muttering. "Venom, I like you."

"WE RETURN THE SENTIMENT. YOUR CHOICE IN MATES IS VERY WISE, CONSIDERING YOU ARE A WEAK MORSEL. THEY CAN PROTECT YOU."

"Shut up, Squid. I'll still kick your motherfucking ass if you hurt Eddie."

The emo space goo laughed, a terse scratching noise, showing way, way too many teeth for me to feel comfortable but I allowed myself to be placed on the couch between Tony and Eddie nonetheless. The initial shock of seeing a talking octopod with fangs passed quickly - I've seen Stephen's "trophies" he brought from his otherworldly journeys and Lovecraftian horrors were, honestly, pretty low on the gross/creepy scale.

"Both of you, explain. For the love of fuck," Tony sighed, emotionally exhausted and drained of his usual bravado.

"Eddie was my dad's friend until he moved to Cali, I've know him for fifteen years, give or take. He taught me how to ride a bike and bake the best pot brownies," I shrugged. There wasn't much to say. "I visited him whenever I could but you know, with school and then you guys, there wasn't that much time to iron out the details." I have Eddie a death glare, pointing to Venom's floaty head with my eyes.

Eddie nodded. "What she said..." And then launched an elaborate tale about some company called Life Foundation, some evil dude named Drake and his own alien pudding named Carnage, who was one ugly motherfucker judging by Eddie's and Venom's combined "ew" face, their aching need for human brains to survive and other, more trivial things, like mental breakdowns in a lobster tank and getting dumped by a fiancé and eating their way through a HYDRA base after being captured and tortured. What a wild fucking ride.

"Sounds like you had a rough year," Everybody's dumbfounded silence was ended by Tony who took a slow swig of his whiskey before speaking.

"Yeah, no shit," Eddie muttered, twisting his black coated fingers in elaborate but frankly pretty shapes. His alien wrapped around his neck like a tube scarf and additional tentacles appeared between Eddie's hands, gently prying them open and enveloping them in a sort of a hug? It was hard to compute, the black mass appeared to be totally amorphous.

"How's your anxiety?" I asked, damn well knowing Eddie's mind tended to run like Tony's: zero to sixty in point five with no clear destination. Having an alien inside of him must've really thrown Eddie for a loop.

"It's, uh, better. Venom helps," The reporter admitted, still staring at his hands but the crease between his brows had disappeared and the expression he wore was kind of fond.

"Good. You know, Venom," I thoughtfully addressed the definitely sentient creature. "Eddie is a bigger dumbass than me, which is saying something. You ought to keep a really close eye on him. If not for me, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning, like, years ago."

"WE ARE AWARE. WE CAN ACCESS EDDIE'S MEMORIES." A head manifested itself on a thicker tentacle, floating over to look me in the face but maintaining a respectful distance and staying out of my personal space bubble. "AND WE ARE THANKFUL. EDDIE IS THE PERFECT HOST. WE LOVE EDDIE."

I felt the corner of my mouth tilt upwards at the alien's proclamation. It was child-like in its blunt honesty but carried a certain weight with it. It told me whoever tries to separate those two in any way would get eaten faster than they could say "SIKE!". And honestly? I would help Venom hide the evidence.

"I literally had you for thirty minutes but I would kill everybody and then myself if you two got hurt. This is too soft, I can't." I snorted, extending a curious hand towards Venom. They looked so shiny. I had to touch them.

And they let me. Venom butted their head into my palm and let me gently run my fingers over their slightly cool, slippery flesh. It felt like putting my hands on a surprisingly sturdy yet bouncy piece of flubber. I purposely avoided the small maw and the endless rows of sharp teeth but managed to accidentally brush against something rough and scratchy - as it turned out, the Symbiote had a very long, very dexterous tongue. And didn't that give me a bunch of interesting mental images.

"Oh my God, NO!" Wanda moaned from somewhere, the voice mortified and disgusted.

"Why are you touching the people-eating alien?" Bruce yelped, entering the room with several people in tow. The scientist looked worried, a little bit green around the edges. The tablet in his hands beeped periodically, signifying the ongoing sciencing bender he was in process of.

"WE WOULD NOT EAT THIS HUMAN. WE ARE FOND OF THE MORSEL." Venom defended, well, venomously. Eddie wisely choose to stay silent, trading a knowing look with Tony.

Stephen Strange sighed, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a jagged movement. "One day, Princess, one day you will stop collecting people that are obviously bad for your health and your future. That, or space in the tower will simply run out." With a deeper, calmer sigh, the sorcerer landed in front of me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and subtly begging for a head scratch. Which meant just placing his always neatly trimmed curls under my free hand. His jealousy was about as subtle as a foot in the face.

"I'll just ask Tony to build more floors, duh," I rolled my eyes with force at the obvious solution, giving into Steph's demands, beginning to card through his hair. It was calming both of us, really.

Bruce came over to give me a kiss and my other boyfriends didn't even grumble about the scientist placing himself in my lap, crawling over both Tony and Stephen to get comfortable.

Our dynamic was unconventional and more than a little weird, but it worked for us and the rest of the team most certainly didn't complain about the vast decrease in conflict that came with the territory. Come to think of it, all of us were more tactile than just a group of friends sharing a house and I was very much on board with that. None of us except select few (looking at you, mister doctor) were hugged enough as children and we were making up for it in spades right fucking now.

"Girl has a type," Wanda remarked, like the messy little shit she was. I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

The Avengers' brain trust began talking about Venom's slightly inconvenient diet that directly resulted in multiple felonies for one Edward Brock, and as much as I tried to follow the flow and make my own, however feeble, contributions to the scientific side of the conversation, the new life form was much more interesting. I asked Venom several questions and they deemed them acceptable enough to answer - which evolved on both of us absolutely geeking out over the differences in our physiology. The space pudding didn't hold back one bit, insulting the inferior human biology with gleeful gusto.

"They need a chemical called phenethylamine," Bruce sighed, having deduced it through discussion since Venom and Eddie both protested aggressively against any kind of invasive testing. "I can synthesize it. No more head-chomping, no more murder."

It made perfect sense. Except it didn't. "Brucie-bear, you're a brilliant fucking scientist but a shit psychologist." I interrupted whatever came next. "Venom is a person, like me and you and, yes, even Hulk. Tell me this: if you found a way to get rid of Hulk, would you stop sciencing in the gamma radiation field?" I looked my boyfriend straight in the eyes, hoping for a spark of common sense. "Do you see my point? You science, Tony engineers, Steve draws and Clint bakes. Venom hunts. It's who they are, you can't give them a pill to make it go away."

The weight of my word landed in the room like lead, heavy. The only source of sound was the TV, playing the news quietly in the background for the longest time. Those few minutes felt like hours until Thor expectantly turned towards Eddie/Venom.

"IT IS SO. WE ARE AFRAID WE CANNOT INFLUENCE OUR INSTINCT TO HUNT PREY. KLYNTAR ARE APEX PREDATORS." The little black goop sounded almost apologetic. It was hard to hear undertones with their voice being so deep and grating. "BUT WE CAN TRY." Okay, I could totally hear the hope. Finding out the Eldritch horror could make puppy eyes was... Terrifying, to be honest, because they fucking worked.

"Got any better ideas?" Tony asked me sarcastically.

"I do, actually." I leveled a look with Natasha. She understood. "HYDRA goons. The aliens that, for some reason, keep invading New York every month or so. Stephen's adventures in Hell. Do I need to continue?"

"Wait, hold on," Steve raised his palms. "We don't kill HYDRA, we deposit them in SHIELD custody."

I snorted at the naïve Captain. "And what do you think happens to them there? Did you honestly think they just let torturing, murdering, world-domination planning psychos back on the streets?"

Steve frowned in confusion. "They go to prison?"

Natasha choose that moment to step up. "It's not uncommon for them to possess certain enhancements to be deemed too dangerous to be released back into society. Some of them are low-tier mutants and inhumans. Trust me, Steve, the lethal injection is a much more humane treatment than solitary life imprisonment in a ultra-high security prison." Romanoff stated with a trace of compassion. "And some mutants, we can't contain for prolonged periods of time." She added quietly, looking away.

Rogers was staring blankly into the wall, mulling over the information in his head. His intensive thought process was plainly visible on his face. I heard about some kind of fiasco with HYDRA agents suicide-bombing a city in Europe few years ago and Steve was there, along with Wanda and Sam.

"Venom is a whole person, and even if they look like they could be the main character in Call of Ctulhu video game, we can't just disregard them like they are some kind of badly behaving pet. They're my honorary uncle's boyf-sorry-significant other, for fuck's sake," I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Y'all should know I don't fuck with people who give shit to one of my own. Don't disappoint me like that." I finished, feeling more tired than I had in months. I didn't regret giving into the found family dynamic, however I didn't exactly sign up for hard choices like them vs my long lost uncle, y'know?

Great, now I had a headache and three very concerned boyfriends glaring at me for unknown reasons. The urge to pace always manifested strongly within me as the emotional atmosphere rose in the room. With Bruce dangling off my lap, I couldn't do even that and I felt the restlessness blossom into irritation more and more with each passing second of my existence.

Eddie remained silent, looking down. Venom had mostly receded into the reporter's body, save for a few tentacles tightly wrapped around Eddie's palm.

"Alright," Steve suddenly said. "We can work with that."

"Princess, you look like you're either going to cry or yell any second," Bruce said softly, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me closer.

I immediately hid my face in his chest, taking several deep, shaky breaths. "Eddie is family. Y'all are family. It's terrifying to have to choose between the two." I said, after a brief moment of hesitation.

The reporter made some sort of a choked gasp, quickly masking it with a cough - I knew him way too well to miss the way he was fighting back tears of his own. Bruce understood, he really did understand me - hopped off my lap and let me hug Eddie properly, my happy-sad tears soaking through the collar of his tee.

"You're, uh, welcome to stay. I'll have a guest room prepared." Tony cleared his throat, passing his half-finished glass to Stephen who swallowed the liquid in one gulp. My boyfriends were so fucking emotionally illiterate. Disaster humans.

Huh, I really did have a type.

Later that night, I made the mistake of barging into Eddie's room with a bottle of really fancy whiskey I liberated from Tony's overstocked liquor cabinet. Visiting my uncle and boozing and smoking on the balcony, for old times sake, was my plan and...

I failed the mission successfully.

I didn't bother knocking. As soon as I saw a pair of bare feet, my eyes traveled further up on the couch on their own volition. There were so many tentacles, a writhing, oozing silky black mass and Eddie was making sounds, unmistakable noises-

"UNSEE. UNSEE. OH MY GOD, UNSEE, UNSEE." I stumbled back into the common room shivering.

"What happened, is everything okay?" Bucky stood up as soon as he saw me enter the doorway with my face scrunched in a grimace of regret. I felt like I've gone through the five stages of grief in the shortest time possible for a human being.

Somwhere, I heard Wanda's sudden moan full of pain and misery. "Please, stop THINKING about it!"

"Brain bleach, oh my God," I cringed. "Where's the Clorox?! I have decided I don't need my eyeballs-"

"Oooh," Tony's proverbial lightbulb lit up. The engineer sounded like he was about five seconds away from building a space ship and permanently moving to another planet. "They're together-together..." Tony intercepted me nonetheless, doing the most effective thing to make me stop speaking and thinking bullshit. He kissed me. With lots of tongue.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[resinatingbeauty]

Witchcraft & Expectations

What do you really expect from the Craft?

I had considered writing this for a while before actually doing it just because I didn't want anyone to feel like they were being attacked or singled out. Offending you isn't the purpose of this post, so please do not be discouraged by anything you read here. There is no wrong way of practicing your Craft and to each their own. I was just curious about perspectives when it comes to your expectations regarding Witchcraft, magick, and spirituality as I have dealt with many different people following many different paths since focusing more on my Craft and art through my shop which began on Mercari and grew enough to become more established on Etsy.

I do sell many spiritual / witchy items from personalized spell kits to witchy mystery boxes compiled with Intuitively chosen and my own handmade, one of a kind items. Among the most popular spiritual offerings are my 'buy one get one miniature spell jars,' which allow my customers to select two general purposes or a personalized request from which I assemble and enchant a miniature glass spell jar containing herbs, crystals, essential oils, and other objects based on their needs and requests. I wanted to make these little portable vessel talismans more available to everyone price and purpose wise, compared to others that have been charged with a more specific intent or devoted to a specific deity.

I have a long history of using spell jars myself for various purposes whenever I feel compelled to create one or a special occasion arises. I'm picky about larger jars and bottles, however, so they are usually created in small corked jars or in larger jars that I will sometimes embellish or try new things to integrate that allow the spell jar to also be an appealing or intriguing piece of handmade everyday decor while serving its spiritual purpose, such as the one in the photo above.

For the most part, I have found a surprisingly amount of success with my spell jars. Not just myself, but others as well have reported events that they thought were directly related to their spell jar. I had created one for my neighbor a couple weeks ago who had been searching for a better job than the one she had at a preschool. The day after I gave her the jar, she received a text from an old coworker who notified her that a position at a bank she had applied at months ago that had nothing available at that time had just opened up.

This actually exceeded my expectations. In my experience, magick takes time. Others who have commented on the success of their spell jars or magick in general would contact me a few weeks or so after using their spell kit or receiving their spell jar. I created a spell jar back in January to help jumpstart my small business selling my crafts and Craft and didn't really start to see a huge change until mid-March-April where I was more successful than even I anticipated.

This was about on par with what I expected in terms of time, as most spells I've ever done have taken days, weeks, or even months to start manifesting results that couldn't be passed off or ignored. To be sure, I include a scroll with each of my kits and jars explaining how they are best utilized, to have patience, how to set a purpose and intentions, the power of thinking positively, and that magick rewards those who are willing to work and make sacrifices for what they desire. To me, all of these things are virtues that this path teaches us and are part of what makes the Craft so empowering overall. Whether it was the spell or your hard work, you are the catalyst for change. You made things happen. I mean, what is more empowering than that?

This is part of the reason why I personally chose to over spell kits and magickal tools rather than offering to cast spells or perform rituals on one's behalf. It was my desire to make YOU feel empowered and you are the one ultimately responsible for your own success or failure, whether spiritually or otherwise. I'll gladly steer you down the road of success and provide you with my knowledge, experience, and guidance, but I am always clear about what to expect.

Unfortunately, we live in a time where instant gratification is anticipated and expected, which I never considered in terms of Witchcraft. I knew that no matter how many times I write 'set realistic expectations, focus on your purpose, be patient, and keep doing what your doing' that some people would just blow through all that hoping that they just bought a quick fix for all their problems for $6.99 + a buy one get one deal.

Two weeks or so ago, I had received an order for said jars from a young man who simply said he wanted a personalized spell jar for lucid dreaming and dream work and selected his second 'free' one for self empowerment. I reached out to clarify and answered some of his questions. My immediate impression from him was one of discord. He expressed a lot of turmoil in his life over the past few months and claimed to have taken on a lot of responsibility. He seemed young and eager, with a ton of questions regarding magick in general. I answered his questions the best I could, but reiterated the same values I expressed in the previous paragraph when asked why such and such spell wasn't working, 'should I not have done this,' etc. Magick takes time to manifest, especially when it comes to financial purposes like he explained which are inherently unlikely to resolve themselves overnight.

He seemed happy enough with his purchase and said as much when he received his package. A couple days later, I received a notification about a review he had left which was negative, saying one of his spell jars didn't work with a message delivered in tandem asking what purpose I had set for his spell jar.

Let me say this: I am not upset with him or complaining about his review. He is entitled to his own opinion, although I was annoyed with how quickly he had come to the conclusion when in the instructions I provided him I specifically said that these things take time to work. Anyone who receives results instantly or within the next day or so are exceeding my own expectations. Which is great! Hooray!

But this is definitely not the standard I've come to expect in all the years I've been practicing the Craft.

I continued chatting with and answering this young man's questions and ultimately uncovered that he was upset about a variety of things that had been going on in his life. In his mind, he felt entitled to have these things work for him sooner rather than later and was frustrated and angry that nothing he tried had been working out the way he expected.

In the time that I have opened my little shop, I have (thankfully) only run into one other person like this- where their understanding of Witchcraft seems to have been compiled from television and movies. After the first, I learned to tread lightly around these individuals because, whether it's their fault or not, they have been mislead.

Television shows like old school Charmed and the newer Salem and Witches of East End are really entertaining. I enjoyed watching them, but they are the absolute enemy of those who practice magick / witchcraft as a form of religion or spirituality. Sure, some of these shows actually do their research. Even Buffy the Vampire Slayer was ahead of its time introducing Wiccans, Technopagans, and New Age practices to pop culture and in many ways helped to show people an obscured version of the truth during the 'Satanic Panic' period when even witches hated being called witches and the pentagram / pentacle difference became an actual difference that wasn't just a choice of words.

Newer generations growing up with Harry Potter, which is hardly a great introduction into magickal traditions, were at least more open minded than the previous generation to the actuality of witchcraft and magick as a spiritual practice.

I mean, who doesn't want to snap their fingers and make the house tidy in one fell swoop?

I sure do. But even when I first started practicing at 11 I understood that that just isn't how it is.

This young man who was saying he lead a coven sounded more like he was LARPing than legitimately asking for spiritual guidance. I realized real quick that I couldn't do anything for him. What he wanted and expected, no matter how many times I referenced the instructions I provided (he evidently hadn't acknowledged) and relayed to him my own experience and expectations, he was looking for that 'quick fix' and someone or something to blame for when it didn't work the way he thought it would. The main reason for his complaint? The night after he received his spell jar, he said he just dreamnt about the moon.

My understanding of lucid dreaming was having direct control over ones dreams. The more I talked to this person the more it became clear that this wasn't his understanding of lucid dreaming. I tried to ask what he had tried to gain that control, as many of you know that I suffered from sleep paralysis for years and taught myself how to realize and 'break out' of it over time. He referenced making offerings to a goddess. I had to stop.

I'm sure that another business minded witch would have sold him something else or offered an exchange. I (stupidly) tried to make him understand that he has the power to manifest his desires. All I did was provide him with a tool to help things along.

This was the same for the woman I had dealt with months ago who said that she had been told by this coven owned business that she was a vampire reincarnated to be with her lover. That was the ultimate end of our conversation because she didn't seem very open to anything I suggested. Whether the things she bought were 'effective' for her or not we will never know. When she started messaging me to the point of harassment I deleted her messages and flagged them as spam. All this time and effort spent consoling someone who really isn't in the right frame of mind for magick or witchcraft.

The main point in writing this ranty post is to get the perspective of the community. What are your expectations for your own spells? What do you tell others when they ask? If you are also a 'witch shop' owner or own your own spiritual practice how do you deal with clients that have set unrealistic expectations for you and your Craft?

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, implied smut

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 10 Part 12

Part 11

The next few days were monotonous. Most mornings, I would go to the gym. Then I'd head off to work. After work, I'd take Perrin for a walk. We stopped at the dog park a few times to throw the ball. Then I'd go home and read or watch tv. After dinner, I would FaceTime Liam before falling asleep.

Although I missed him terribly, it had been good to have some space. I was able to think about us a bit. Liam was always great on the phone, a gentleman even. Yes, he flirted with me and made inappropriate comments, but they were always in context. I'd be lying if I said I didn't flirt with him back. But it was nice to get to know him better, and I decided I definitely liked him as a person and a lover. He was sweet, sincere, funny and warm, the same as he was when he was Will. He seemed to accept who I was. There were no digs at me, maybe some friendly ribbing, but it seemed he liked me too. We spent a lot of time laughing. We had a similar sense of humour.

He opened up about some of his past relationships, how he felt about them and what went wrong. A lot of the times, he admitted to fault, especially in the early ones. I talked a bit about Andy but kept a lot back. No doubt, he noticed.

Thursday afternoon changed everything.

Liam called me when I was driving home from work at about four-thirty. It broke with our routine. We usually spoke around nine o'clock. I answered the phone, and Liam's voice came through the speakers.

"Hello, Sweetheart. How was your day?"

I smiled at this now familiar greeting. "Really good, Liam. How was yours? Have you finished work already?"

"Yeah, good. I'm supposed to stay for another hour, but I wasn't needed, so I left." Liam paused and said, "Listen, Lana, I have to tell you something."

"Oh, no."

"Yesterday, a parent from your school saw the pictures of us." I went cold. I was 10 minutes from my house, but I pulled over. "She left a message on one of the pictures that you look like a teacher from her kid's school." Oh shit. "Anyway, this morning, you were on duty at the "kiss and drop", whatever that is."

Robotically I said, "it's where the parents drop the kids off at school without getting out of the car." I could see where this is as going.

"Right." He sounded strange but continued. "Well, they took a picture of you, put that side by side with the others. Long story short, Sarah was called to confirm your name."

"Oh, for fucks sake." I was pissed off. "What did she tell them?"

"She said she couldn't confirm or deny."

"In other words, yes, but my boss said, don't say anything."

"That's a bit unfair, Lana. She can't lie to them, or they won't bother calling her when they get a story. They will just run it because they can't trust what she says."

"Fuck this," I said and hung up on Liam.

I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and spun the tires. I had a Toyota Camry SX. It's sort of sporty, but it's not meant to be driven like that, but I was fuming. Liam rang again, but I ignored it. I backed off and slightly and rounded a corner, tires chirping as I went. I fumbled in my bag, driving one-handed until I found and lit a cigarette. As stupid as it was, I drove the rest of the way home like that.

When I got home, I quickly changed into my Draggin jeans, leather jacket and riding boots. I grabbed my helmet, gloves and went for a ride.

I loved being on the bike. Andy was the first guy I'd been with who rode. I remembered the first time he got me on the bike. He hadn't even let the clutch out, and I screamed and jumped off. The second time was better, and I went around the block before I got off. The third time, I was hooked. I loved holding onto his waist as we rode, my chest pressed against his back, my thighs touching his, my hands under his t-shirt. I loved the heavy thrumming of the bike, the wind whistling past. It was exciting, erotic, but also calming. Calming is what I needed.

I was so angry. Not at Liam or Sarah. Or even the bitch who outed me or the others who put my photo out there in the first place. I didn't know who I was angry with. Hollywood? Gossip? Social media? Myself? Maybe I was mad at myself. I deserved it. I'd turned my back on Andy, fucked another guy, and now I'm in a relationship with him, according to public record. Every time someone googles my name, his will come up.

The parents at school will give me looks, and I won't know what they are thinking. Will they be laughing at me? And if it didn't work out, everyone would know. I would have to go through a break up while everyone watched, picked at it, chose sides and commented.

I rode for about an hour up through the Blue Mountains. When I stopped for petrol at Wentworth Falls, my thoughts had settled, and I was thinking clearer. I stopped at a cafe, got a coffee and checked my phone. Liam had called twice more and sent a few messages. Riza had called and texted me.

I checked Riza's first. It was a link to an article, Liam Cross's Secret Aussie Lover. Her text simply said, "Jen just found this. Call me if you need me." I didn't click the link.

I checked Liam's. He said he wants to make sure I'm ok. Then he said he wants to come over and talk to me.

I called Liam. He seemed to answer before it even rang. "Sweetheart. Are you ok?" He sounded a bit frantic.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I knew you'd be upset."

"Upset is one thing. I snapped at you and blamed Sarah. You're right. It's not her fault."

"Lana, don't worry about that. Did you read the article?"

"No."

Liam was quiet a while. Then he said, "Are you ok now?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. I just needed some time to calm down." I let out a short laugh. "I am a redhead after all. I have a temper."

Liam laughed, "Do I have to be worried about being stabbed in my sleep?"

"Nah, being a redhead wouldn't make me do that. I get that part of me from being a Scorpio."

"I don't know whether to be scared or turned on right now."

I smirked, "Why not be both?"

Liam laughed and then got serious. "You sure you're ok? Do you want me to come over? I almost did get in my car when you wouldn't answer."

"Stalker," I teased.

"And that's why I didn't."

"I'm not at home anyway."

"Where are you?"

"I took off on the bike to clear my head. I'm in the mountains right now."

"The mountains?"

"Yeah, the Blue Mountains. Look west tomorrow, and you'll see them."

"I'll do that." Liam paused. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you too. Bye, Liam."

"Bye, Sweetheart."

I finished my coffee and rode home.

I texted Riza to let her know I was ok. I played with Perrin. I texted my brother to remind him to pick Perrin up tomorrow afternoon. I ate some dinner before packing my bag for tomorrow and went to bed. It was a long time before I finally fell into a restless sleep.

Liam Cross's Secret Aussie Lover

"Pictures of Liam Cross, 38, with an unknown female were circulating on social media earlier this week, and tongues were set wagging.

"Users were quick to put their detective hats on and tracked down Cross's new flame late yesterday. The woman was identified as Mrs Alana Walker, 30, Sydneysider, and special education teacher. Not much else is known about Mrs Walker other than she was widowed in 2017.  Her husband, Andrew Walker, and father Brian Kelly were killed in a horrific Boxing Day crash when his car was destroyed by a truck driver who had a medical incident behind the wheel.

"Sources close to Cross say that he has been elated the past couple of months, and now they know why. They hope for his sake that this relationship will not be plagued by scandal like his previous relationships.

"For now, Cross's camp is remaining tight-lipped on the situation. While they don't deny a relationship, they will not confirm it.

"Cross is currently in Sydney for an adaptation of the widely popular and romantic fantasy epic Beyond the Stones series by C. W. Taylor. He will co-star alongside Australian Myra Roberts with an expected release in the northern hemisphere winter of 2022."

I woke on Friday morning and laid in bed for a while. I should have gone to the gym, but I just couldn't get my body to move. I wanted to chuck a sickie, blow off the whole day, maybe go for a swim, or just watch movies all day. I had an urge to watch Kill Bill for some reason. But I couldn't do that to the kids.

I knew I was just trying to avoid the parents at school. I'm sure most of them know by now. Gossip runs rampant at the school gate. We've all seen Big Little Lies. Probably all the staff knew too. It was one of those days where I wish I could just press fast forward and get to the part where I see Liam again. I didn't want to miss out on that.

In the end, I got up, showered and got ready for work. I tamed my hair, put on my war paint and dressed in black work pants, ballet flats and a pink knitted cardigan.

I started to pack my bag for the weekend, trying to work out what outfits I needed. I had decided what I wanted to wear for dinner tonight, but I didn't know what to wear to bed. Would I even need anything to wear? I blushed at the thought. I packed a basic set of pyjamas. I added jeans and a couple of t-shirts, a hoodie and my Dr Martens. I put some pretty underwear in there too. I didn't have much, just a white lace set which Liam had already seen and two black lace sets. I packed them all.

My phone beeped, and I got a message from Liam. It was a picture of his face all sweaty from working out. He had his tongue sticking out. He had written, I was going to send you a picture of my cock but thought that was a bit vulgar. So I decided to send you a picture of another part of my body that's going to fuck you tonight. Can't wait x.

My whole body grew hot, my stomach filled with butterflies, and I giggled. I started to reply with 'cheeky bastard', but then I had an idea. I sent him a picture of my face with my mouth open in an O shape, and I rested a finger on the corner of my lower lip. I wrote, I was going to send you a picture of my pussy but thought it was a bit obvious. So I sent you a picture of another part of my body that's going to get fucked tonight. X

Within a minute, I got a reply of: Game on, Sweetheart.

Well, if Liam wants to play a game, I can play a game.

I pulled my pyjamas out of my bag and put in a satin shift, pretty much my only sexy bedclothes. I thought about what other sexy photos I could take and packed a few other things. Then I made my lunch and headed off to work.

I rang Riza on the way to work. She asked me about how I was feeling. I told her I was dealing with it, but I said no more about it. I asked Riza about how she and Jen were going, and she said we would meet up soon.

"I miss you," she said.

"Yeah, I miss you too. Talk soon, ok?"

"Yeah, have a good weekend slut! Tell Liam I said hi."

"Suck a dick Riz."

We hung up, and almost immediately, Dave calls.

He doesn't say hello or anything, just launches in with, "Are you dating Liam Cross?" Fuck. "One of Lucy's friends just sent her an article about you and him."

No use denying it then. "Yeah, I am. He's the one I'm spending the weekend with." I braced for his reply.

"Fuck me dead. My fucking little sister is rooting Liam fucking Cross." His voice didn't sound angry. He sounded impressed.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not a big deal. Just don't forget to get Perrin and don't tell Mum."

"Not a big deal? The kids will go crazy when they meet him."

"Dave, we are hardly at the point where we are meeting families."

"Yeah, alright, keep your shirt on."

"I'll come by Sunday arvo to pick Perrin up?"

"Wanna stay for dinner?"

"Yeah, ok. See you then."

I ended the call and got to work not long after that. I went straight to my classroom, trying to avoid everyone. There was one person I couldn't avoid, and that was Marla, my teacher's aide. She was in her late 50s, though, so I thought she would be pretty safe. She didn't mention anything all morning, which was a relief.

At lunchtime, I stayed in the classroom. I told Marla I had some work to do, so she left me alone. I checked my phone and found a message from Liam.

It was a picture of Liam drinking from a bottle of pineapple juice, and it said, Me hydrating for tonight x.

His innuendo made me chuckle, but I had planned for something like this. I took a selfie of myself with a banana in my mouth and sent it with the caption: Presumptive much? Me carbo-loading for tonight.

Liam replied a little later with, I can't decide if I'm winning because my pics are better or if I'm still winning because yours are better.

Marla came back into the classroom about halfway through lunch. She pottered around the room, trying to look busy. She kept looking over at me. I felt myself start to panic. She wasn't acting like that this morning. She must know now. They all must know. I started wondering what everyone was saying about me in the staff room. They had probably sent Marla back to the classroom to see what information they could get out of me. The panic receded, and anger filled the void.

Eventually, I lost my temper. "Have you got something to say, Marla?"

Marla had the good grace to look ashamed. "No. Nothing."

I crossed my arms. "What are they saying?"

Marla sighed, "honestly? They're mostly pretty stoked about it. Happy for you."

I let my arms fall. My vision went a bit blurry. "Really?"

Marla came over and leaned against the table, and rubbed my back. "Oh, Darl, yeah, most of us remember what it was like for you. We just want you to be happy."

I smiled at her, but the tears still came. Marla gave me a tissue. "Thanks, Marla." I sniffed, "ugh, the parents, though. I'm not looking forward to that."

Marla smiled and said, "don't worry about it, Darl. I'll fill in for ya this arvo, and you can do my Wednesday lunch duty. How's that?" I thanked her. Relieved, I hugged her and cleaned myself up.

When school had finished, I made a mad dash to the car park. I knew I was just putting off the inevitable. I'd have to show my face in front of the parents sooner or later, but I decided it was Monday's problem.

I checked my phone before I headed off to Liam's place. He had sent me a shirtless picture of himself with some rope curled up around his shoulder and written, One of my costumes has a rope. It made me think of you. I'm about to leave. See you soon.

Dammit, I couldn't think of a response to that one! I sat and thought about it for ages. I was not about to give in easily. Then it came to me. I got my water bottle and one of my spare undies from my overnight bag. I wet them a bit, put the underwear and water bottle on the bag and took a picture of them both. I wrote. My water bottle leaked in my bag, and my panties got wet. It made me think of you. I'm on my way.

The three circles came up within seconds, and Liam sent, You are in so much trouble, Sweetheart. Park around the back.

And because I can't control my tongue in real life or texts, I wrote back, That's what she said.

I didn't wait for a reply. I just put an audiobook on and drove.

Part 12