#this is different this hits so deeply somehow this is really really close to my heart and my hopes and my understanding of the world. fuck.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙙𝙚❞

Pairing:

Dark!Neil Lewis x Best Friend!Reader

Summary:

Her baby daddy wasn’t around, helping her with her child, but Neil had been there since the beginning, and he was ready to step up to be more than her roommate and best friend.

Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Lactation kink (so sorry). Dark!Neil but also soft for Y/N. Neil was desperate in this. Y/N inhibited a bit of innocent behavior. Manipulation. P in V. Minors, dni! Note: I was inspired by his little interactions with baby Emerson in the movie. 

Word Count: 2.1k

Neil was keeping an eye on Natalia who was sleeping in her playpen in the other room with a quirk of a smile as the film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly was playing on the screen in their living room.

He had been referring himself as her dad or she liked to say ‘da’, although never with Y/N around. He was not going to risk her wrath. Not until things started shifting then he would risk it.

It started when Y/N needed him to watch Natalia when she had a doctor’s appointment, and the baby became needy that they bonded over little things. Somehow it shifted from just being a friend slash uncle who would watch his best friend’s daughter to secretly viewing the baby as his daughter. 

Y/N came into the living room from the kitchen, wincing slightly as she rubbed her lower back. She was in her long gray t-shirt and boy shorts, revealing her legs.

“Hey…are you alright?” Neil asked, dropping the remote on the couch in order to get up and be at her side faster. He was worried about her as he voiced his concern.

“Yeah. I’m okay. My back is killing me.” She chuckled slightly, wincing again as the pain flitted across her expression.

“Maybe you should lay down.” He murmured softly, helping her move toward the couch. “Do you need anything?” he asked, trying to be as gentle with her as he could. When he saw her flinch in pain, he couldn’t help but feel protective. In his mind, she was his.

“If…if it’s not too much, would you massage my back?” She hesitated, asking him shyly.

His heart skipped a beat. “I…uh…I can do that, if that’s what you really want…” He paused for a second. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

She nodded. Then she crawled to the middle of the couch, and she felt him sitting behind her. As soon as he started pressing into her sore muscles, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Is that… is that good?” He had no idea what he was doing, but he hoped that he was doing it well. He watched her closely as he massaged her, trying not to do anything that would hurt her.

He had a million thoughts running through his mind, telling him what to do next. Neil couldn’t help but feel a little possessive. She was allowing him to put his hands on her body, and it was making him feel a little… irrational. He started from the middle of her back where her spinal cord resided, moving his thumbs upward until he had reached towards the back of her shoulders, and eventually her neck before retreating and making his way around her shoulders.

He could hear her sighing as he rubbed her shoulders from behind. She then stiffened causing him to pause his ministrations, he had notice when she tilted her head forward, looking down in front of her. 

“I should wake Nat up,” she mumbled with a sense of timidity in her voice. Her body language was coiled as if she was ready to spring across the room.

Out of curiosity, he leaned forward over her shoulder just enough to see the collarbone and he peered down to see her breasts causing her gray t-shirt to become damp. He could hear her breathing hitched when the realization hit him and her for different reasons.

He stopped, noticing for the first time how low he’d been massaging her. His fingers had gone lower than what would’ve been appropriate...his gaze flitting down to her chest, where he saw the top straining against her curves, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh”, he mumbled, his finger brushing ever so slightly against one of her fabric covered breasts as he pulled his hands away.

He caught himself just in time, but the damage had already been done. “Whoops, sorry,” he said, his own voice was shaky. “I went too low,” he added, pointing out the obvious.

In reality, he knew exactly what he’d been doing. She did not need to know that.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose,” she mumbled, turning around slightly to face him while attempting not to show too much. “And I trust you.” 

Neil stared at her unblinkingly, then he couldn’t help but laugh softly at her innocent comment, shaking his head slightly. “Are you sure I didn’t do it on purpose?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, his gaze fixed on her chest. He could feel his cock hardening in his track pants.

He saw the faintest blush sweep over her cheeks and knew he had her where he wanted her. “You trust me too much,” he said quietly, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “And frankly you’re too pretty for me to do anything else but imagine all the ways that I’d love to have you all to myself.”

Her eyes widened cautiously while his eyes raked over her facial features hungrily. Before she could prevent him from accosting her in any form, it was too late.

His large hands ended being placed on both sides of the hem of her t-shirt, curling his fingers into the fabric around her waist before dragging his palms upwardly with a possessive intent until the fabric was lifted away from her chest that was keeping her breasts from his sight.

“Neil, no.” She protested, placing her hands onto his wrists to prevent him from continuing.

He looked at her while shushing her gently, “you don’t want to wake up Natalia, do you?” It was a rhetorical question since they both dreaded waking Natalia from her peaceful slumber and not return to it after nursing duty was over.

“Ne-“ she attempted to say his name, but he had already removed the fabric from her chest.

His eyes widened as his eyes landed on her bare breasts. They were large, full, and swollen, like they had been prepared for him all along. And the sight of the milk seeping from them was only adding to his desire for her.

His lips immediately shaped into a frown when she reached for her swollen breasts to cover them from his gaze with her hands.

It was wrong, yes, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to take her, to make her his in every way.

He had been wanting her even before she met a man who left her in his hands while being pregnant.

However, when her fingers accidentally squeezed one of her breasts, Neil watched in fascination as milk flowed over her fingers from her breast. 

“Let me have it,” he murmured to himself, grabbing her hand, and bringing it to his mouth. He started licking the milk from her fingers, not wanting to miss a chance.

She gasped when she felt her fingers enveloped by his mouth. “Neil.” She said his name breathlessly, almost as if she was scolding him.

He looked up at her, his eyes full of an animalistic need he couldn't explain. “Just… let me have it.” He was practically begging for it now. He wanted her.

“We can’t, Neil!” She hissed, and he could tell she was getting extremely flustered. “We’re best friends and best friends don’t do this to each other.”

“Then I don’t want us to be best friends anymore.” He said flatly after pulling her fingers away from his mouth.

She stared at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’re telling me that I can’t have you while we’re best friends?” He chuckled mirthlessly; his tone petulant as he continued. “My best friend who I’ve been there for years,” his lips curled in a demeaning manner, he was offended by her attitude. “I’ve also been there for Natalia long enough for her to see me as a da-“ he was interrupted by her.

“You are not her dad.” She snapped; her eyes were wide with incredulous.

“Oh, but I am.” He said darkly, his eyes turning frost despite his soft and goofy personality he’d inhibited for years. “Let’s face it, I’ve been more of a dad for Nat than that piece of shit who got you pregnant and ended the relationship after you told him. She even started calling me ‘da’ whenever she wanted to talk,” he said almost smugly, then his lips curled into a sneer. “If you do anything to prevent me from being with you and taking care of her….you’re only going to hurt her and yourself.” A soft coo from the other room could be heard, “she knows the truth and deep down so do you.” 

She stared at him with glassy eyes, he only returned his gaze with calm storm in his depths. He leaned forward, pushing her until her back is flushed against the couch, and he pressed his lips against hers softly before pulling back to look into her eyes.

“It’s just us, that’s the way it should be.”

His hands were on her breasts, massaging her firmly as the stream ran thicker. Little puddles were forming on the crevices, running down from his wrists to pool on her abdomen and seeping into the fabric of the couch. He will have to do some fabric cleaning; However, he didn’t care at the moment. He was entirely smug of the mess that he made out of her.

Neil kissed his way to one nipple then opened his mouth as he squeezed, spraying the liquid onto his tongue.

The sound he made in reaction was debauched. That was the only way he could describe it. A sound so wanton and thoroughly in pleasure. His eyes had closed and practically rolled back in his head. He was practically gorging himself on her as he pulled her breast deep into his mouth and sucked.

He could hear her breath becoming sporadic as he swallowed the liquid that was leaking from her breast.

He pulled back and turned towards the other breast, licking, and kissing the flesh before wrapping his lips around her nipple. His eye caught her watching just before his tongue made contact, however, and he paused at the look of petrification that had frozen on her face.

He reached for one of her hands that was lying beside her thigh and placed it on his cock.

"Do you feel how hard you make me?" he asked, moving her hand up and down his thick cock. His track pants was pushed down around his upper thighs, so there was nothing between her hand and his cock as she touched the bare skin. 

It was true; he was as hard as a rock. His chest expanded from sharp inhale as he pictured her cunt being stretched by the girth of his cock. "This protestation you have against us is pointless," he told her almost sternly, letting go while she continued to stroke him, and craned his neck backwards while biting down his bottom lip hard. 

He then tilted his head forward to look down at her as his tongue swiped over the spot where he released his lip from his teeth to soothe the pain. 

"I’ve always wanted you," he murmured, leaning down towards her breasts and he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, swallowing the gush of milk that spurt on his tongue. "And you can’t stop me from having you…" he said softly, his tone was edged with darkness as if he was daring her to go against the idea of them.

He paused, waiting for more disagreements from her, then he sighed in relief when there was none. She would’ve hated the consequences of her actions if she had continued to protest against him.

He immediately dropped to his knees on the couch between her legs, his heart racing as he looked at her fabric covered cunt. He reached down, curling his fingers into the boy-shorts and pushed it aside to reveal her sopping cunt to his hungry gaze. This could be his greatest achievement yet; he could make her his in more ways than he knew was possible. 

He knew that Y/N wouldn’t dare to make noises that would wake the child, not after hours of attempting to put her to sleep.

He crawled on top of her, starting to suckle on her breast like a desperate thirsty man who had been wanting the nectar of the gods from the rare oasis in desert.

He then pushed himself into her tight cunt, grunting slightly when the thick head of his cock finally breeched her little hole. “Oh, fuck.” He whined against her breast, a deep pitch escaping his throat as her walls pulsated around his cock as he was flushed against her deeply as he could go.

Neil was in heaven, tasting the milk against his tongue and her tight cunt wrapped around his cock. He grasped her back firmly, making sure she couldn't get away from him. It didn't matter that they were only friends, it didn't matter that they weren't supposed to be doing anything like this. He wanted her to feel the way he felt, desperately clinging to her and her body.

[chaotic-mystery]

Birthday Girl

🝮 Pairing | (Pre-ellie) Joel Miller x f!reader

🝮 Summary | It’s your birthday, and Joel wants to make you feel special..really special. 

🝮 CW | Fluff if you squint, Smutty smut smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Unprotected PiV, Oral (f receiving), pet names, cum eating, spanking, established relationship, talking you through it, slight mutual masturbation, begging-ish.

The soft jingle of your keys opening the front door echoed in the apartment and the door opened, your bag hitting the ground with a thud. It smelled different, like your favorite meal. You turned towards the kitchen and your eyes looked at the table before you that was displayed with a warm dinner set for two. A smile formed on your lips as Joel walked in front of you greeting you with a smirk as he began singing the words to ‘Happy Birthday’. Your hand came up to your lips in surprise, his hands palming your waist. “Happy birthday my lovely girl, happy birthday to you” giggling overpowered the ending of the song as he placed a kiss against your soft plump lips, not wanting to let you go. “That definitely isn’t how the song goes, Miller” you state as you place a hand on his chest, giving a blushing smile. “Well I don’t give a damn, that’s how I wanted it t’sound. Hope you’re hungry baby, made your favorite dinner.” He pulls the chair out from the table for you and hands you a napkin before scooting you in. A bottle of wine emerges from behind him and you look at him wondering where that came from. Too fancy to be from the QZ. “I may have asked Bill and Frank for it and all they wanted in return was some seeds, and maybe a gun Bill’s been eyein’ since we were last there but it’s fine. Anything for my birthday girl” His hand comes up and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Thank you, so much Joel. For everything you’ve done for me, for sticking with me and making me feel like I still matter somehow in this shit mess. Thank you.” He pressed his lips on your forehead and closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in everything around him to remember later. In those small seconds everything felt safe, normal. “You’re welcome darlin. Now, let’s eat.'' He sat down and started to make your plate and you let him as you admired the man who once was just a grouchy asshole to you. 

The wine bottle was long gone and the night was slowly coming to an end. You’re in Joels lap, head on his chest as he’s humming random bits of melodies for you. “Did you have a good birthday sweetheart?” his voice was muffled in your ear pressed against his shirt and you sat up slowly to look at him. You grinned and nodded yes, “It was everything I could’ve wanted, I'm just missing one thing.” Before he could ask, you kissed him deeply and grabbed his face to pull him closer. His hands tugged at your shirt to signal to put your arms up, the fabric disappearing within seconds off your body. His mouth traveled down your neck to your chest, leaving hungry kisses on the tops of your breasts. Callused hands found the clasp to your bra which was being flung across the room. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?” His mouth wrapped around your nipple, tonguing circles against it before he sucked on it roughly. He knows how much it turns you on when he does that, he loves to get you as horny as he possibly can before you’re begging to get fucked. 

“Mmm Joel-fuck- keep doing t-that. That’s so fucking good baby” he looked up at you and smirked as he sucked your nipple harder while pinching the other in his finger. “Whatever you say, birthday girl.” His hands roamed across your soft back and he pulled you against him tightly as he moaned on your skin. He released your nipple with a pop sound and began toying with it as he sucked in a harsh breath, eyes scanning over your half naked body. “I’m so fucking hard for you sugar, I just wanna strip you naked and fuck you all night long. Make you feel like so special and tear you up you can’t walk in the mornin” The southern accent was thick tonight, he was high on lust. “Take off your clothes for me angel.” He mumbled as he kissed your cheek and spanked your ass hard. You pushed off his chest and stood in front of him, undoing your jeans slowly. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his throbbing cock out, precum dripping from the tip. His hand started rubbing from base to tip, stifling moans as he watched your clothes scatter around the floor. Seeing him jerk off infront of you was new, and fuck did you like it. “Keep going, just like that baby. I wanna see you jerk off to me before I let you fuck my needy pussy.” He was hanging on to every teasing word you spoke. Your hand found its way inside your panties as you rubbed your aching clit and whimpered his name, watching him touch himself. Joel tossed his head back and he groaned loudly, a string of cuss words following. “You will be the death of me woman. Please let me take care of you, I wanna make you feel so good, make you scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar” His hand pumped faster around his cock and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him to wreck you, to devour you. 

Pushing your panties down to the floor, you stepped out of them and climbed onto his lap and teased your entrance with the head of his cock. He looks at you with pleading eyes to slip it in and he lets out a throaty groan as he feels inside you. “Jesus-fuck baby doll. How do you expect me to not cum inside this pretty pussy, huh?” He said through gritted teeth as he started moving you up and down, grabbing a handful of your breast with his free hand. You’re arching your back, fingers running through his curls and tugging lightly. “Baby you feel so good deep inside me, come here.” With that you lean down and kiss him roughly, your tongues meeting in the middle. You moan in each other's mouth as he grabs your ass to go faster, the familiar smacking sound of skin starting up quickly. Joel grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you backwards so you’re arching your back deeper, he leans forward to lick both your nipples messily multiple times before he licks up your neck and meets your lips once again with his.  

“Joel I’m gonna cum keep going j-just like that plea-se” Your words are broken up with moans and he gives a breathy chuckle as he pounds into you harder. You squeeze your eyes shut in pure bliss as his name leaves your mouth a handful of times in moans as you rub your clit to ride out your orgasm. He kisses your neck and groans in your ear, “Oh that’s it pretty baby, rub that fuckin’ clit for me. You got another one in you don’t you darlin?” Before you’re fully done cumming on his cock, he tosses you against the couch face down and plants himself behind you. He bends down and licks your slick folds, saving your clit for last. He laps up your juices like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. “I wanna bury my face in your fuckin pussy, you know that sweetheart?” He runs the tip of his cock from your clit to your tight hole, indulging the moans he’s getting from you. His cock slips back inside you and you gasp loudly, covering your mouth with your hand. “No, uncover that pretty lil mouth baby. I wanna hear you be as loud as ya need to. Show me how good I make you feel.” He started thrusting slowly, taking no time to pick up speed. You did exactly what he said, you were being as loud as you wanted. Hell, you were sure the FEDRA guys patrolling outside heard you. 

His hips slammed into you and he spanked your ass so hard you were covered in red handprints. Reaching underneath you, you started rubbing tight circles on your clit again. Joel caught on to what you were doing and he loved seeing you touch yourself. “I love the way you rub that clit of yours baby doll, it’s so fucking hot watching you do that when I fuck you” A hand wrapped around your throat and tugged you upwards, your back against his chest. “Sh-shit baby I won’t last much longer” he groaned in your ear. “Fuck sugar, cum with me, cum with me right now. O-oh shit darlin you’re such a good girl, cum for me.” His arms wrapped around your body, one hand grabbing your breast and the other on your waist. That was enough to send you off and you screamed his name, cumming hard on his cock. Your body jolting as your orgasm came like waves. His thrusts were getting sloppy and you knew he was close behind. Joel grunted loudly and you felt him cum inside you, whimpering your name as he thrusted to a stop. You collapsed onto the couch trying to catch your breath as he sat back, breathing heavily. “Happy fuckin’ birthday, beautiful.”

[crappymixtape]

my heart in your hands

REQUEST → anonymous, 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ angst prompt: “do you regret it?” – this gives eddie insecure about his relationship with reader after some shit hit the fan vibes | ( 2.2k – a sprinkle of angst, a sprinkle of fluff, all the feelings, established relationship, eddie x reader )

M Y H E A R T I N Y O U R H A N D S 🎶 loner, joan

Eddie was swimming in a sea of bodies, two beers raised safely over his head as he tried to find you in the crowd, music so loud he could barely hear himself think.

When you’d asked him to come with you he couldn’t say no. He never could. Not to you. And even though he didn’t really know anyone at the party he stood by your side smiling and nodding, quietly greeting your friends. Friends of friends. Letting you take the lead and chatting everyone up.

It was what had drawn him to you when you first met. The way your eyes lit up when you were joking and making everyone laugh. All animated and full of energy and exuding this bright feeling. The little group of people around you waiting for the next funny quip, hanging on your words and you loved it. Loved the conversation, the way you made at least two new friends at every single party and Eddie was so happy to just be there along for the ride.

Usually. But tonight felt different.

He expected to run the usual circuit. Walk in, grab a beer, find your friends, laugh all night until things grew a little fuzzy around the edges and go home, but not tonight.

No. Tonight you ran into Remmy.

“Remmy?” your voice had taken on a different sound, so surprised and so happy. Eyes lit up like Eddie hadn’t seen before, big smile pulling at your lips and when he followed your line of sight there was a boy at the other end.

A good looking boy.

Tall. All lean muscle and sharp lines. A shock of black hair and enough of a presence to command the room. Nothing like Eddie. The antithesis of Eddie. Everything he wasn’t and he tried to not let his mind run away with it. Tried to stay grounded. Squeezed your hand in his and followed along.

“Holy shit!” Remmy had yelled back, the grin on his face somehow making him even more handsome and Eddie’s stomach twisted at the thought of the other boy’s hands on your waist. Trailing up your back. Pulling in the scent of your shampoo as your hair fell over your shoulders and holding you close.

Holding his girl close.

“How are you?” you asked, shoving Remmy playfully with a hand pressed to his chest and he laughed. A deeply warm sound that made Eddie burn all the way up to his ears and when your hand fell from his he had to stop himself from grabbing it again.

“I’m great, how are you? I haven’t seen you since graduation,” Remmy hadn’t even looked at Eddie yet, eyes only for you.

“So good. I’m just over at the gallery helping with sales and setting up installations and–”

Eddie cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back, trying so hard not to cut in and when you heard it your eyes widened.

“Oh! Rem. This is my boyfriend, Eddie,” turning you grabbed hold of Eddie’s leather jacket and pulled him forward, bringing him between the two of you and Remmy smiled his big smile.

“Ed. Lucky man,” Remmy gave him a wink and all Eddie could do was laugh. A small huff of air he had to force out and he hoped neither of you had noticed.

“Hah, yeah. Don’t I know it,” Eddie tried to joke, but it fell short and you caught the shift in his tone, the one that screamed I’m uncomfortable and you thought he needed a break. An excuse to get away.

“Babe, wanna grab us some beer?” you asked, thinking you were throwing him a lifeline and Eddie’s stomach lurched. Grab beer. Away from you. Leaving you alone with this other guy, this other guy you had chemistry with.

“Uh. Y–yeah. Course. Be right back,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and turned to walk to the kitchen, a peal of laughter falling from your lips as soon as you started talking to Remmy again and the thoughts running through Eddie’s mind started to take hold.

He had to have been an ex. Maybe even the one right before him. The one that drove the bright red Ford Bronco out front with the shiny new paint and rack up top. The one who played ball in college. Parents had a house in the Hamptons. The one who could buy you nice things and take you nice places and treat you real nice. All the things Eddie couldn’t do and as he wove back through all the people with your beers he caught you back by the stereo where he’d left you.

Still laughing.

Still talking.

Still Remmy and he pushed and shoved to get through the crowd.

“Hey, sweetheart. D’you have a minute?” Eddie walked up emphasizing his nickname for you, beer bottle necks held fast in one hand and the other grabbing onto yours.

“Oh?” your brows pinched together, furrowed in concern, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s okay. Just need you in the other room,” Eddie lied and he could feel Remmy’s eyes on him.

“Okay, yeah. Sorry, Rem. Catch you later?” you asked and the other boy shrugged indifferently, so casual, definition of cool.

“Definitely. Real good to see you,” Remmy leaned down to give you another hug and then glanced over at Eddie, “You too, Ed.”

“Yeah. Real good,” Eddie repeated, but he didn’t bother to sugar coat how short it sounded and pulled you away back through the crowd. Down a hallway and through a door and into an empty room.

You watched as Eddie set the beers down on a dresser with a loud, clumsy clink. He roughed his hands over his face and loosed a heavy sigh that groaned low at the end. Upset and frustrated and when he finally looked up at you his eyes were big and sad. Lips pulling down into a frown. His warm smile no where to be found and you felt your heart ache.

“Babe? What’s going on?” worry squeezed in your chest as you watched him, feeling so far from him even though he was only a few steps away.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, voice tight, fingers tangling in his hair as he tried to shove it out of his face. Tried so hard to keep it together and you took a step toward him.

“Wait. Regret? Eddie, regret what?” your heart was hammering now, beating hard against your ribs as you held your breath, taking another step toward him and he swallowed hard.

“Regret me. This. Us,” he flipped a hand back and forth in the space between you and you swore your heart stopped.

“What? No. Jesus, Eddie. Why would I–”

“I know I don’t know how to throw a fuckin’ football. M’not big and strong or–or riding around on some white horse with a bunch of armor and shit, but–but you gotta tell me. If it’s not working or–or if you wanna be with someone else–”

You took the last two steps toward him in one and pressed your fingers to his lips. Stopped the words from coming out. Shook your head and took his face in your hands, eyes searching his. Dark and deep like whiskey. Like liquid amber. Like if you looked hard enough you’d be able to tell him how you felt without saying, but it didn't matter because the words came easy.

“Eddie Munson. I don’t care about big and strong. I don’t care about football or stupid horses. I don’t need any of that bullshit. I need you.”

And his face softened, lips parted, leaned into your touch and let out the breath he’d been holding. Lifted his hands to cover yours, wide and warm and grounding.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice low and rough, thick with the feeling swelling in his chest.

“Yeah. Yes. Eddie–” you gave him a small smile, oh babe, “–I love you, Eddie. And everything that makes you, you.”

And then you pulled him in soft and slow, pressed a kiss to his lips, caught him as he fell into you and it was sweet. Full of promises and adoration and affection and god damn you loved that boy.

Pulling away just far enough to speak you smiled at him, “Plus, Remmy doesn’t know shit about rolling a nat 20 and that’s just a real turn off.”

Eddie’s eyes shifted, warmed, the heat blowing his pupils wide. Liquid honey, burnt caramel and he pushed into you, lips brushing against yours as he spoke, “Sweetheart, you can’t say shit like that. Gonna make me do somethin’ about it.”

You grinned, “Yeah? Maybe that’s what I was goin’ for.”

Eddie crowded in over you, arms snaking around your waist, lips pulling up finally into that smile you loved so much and he hummed, “My girl.”

And you hummed right back, “All yours.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[roosterbruiser]

I’d love a blurb about the moment one of the boys (your choice) realized he was in love with you

(Extra, extra bonus points if it’s during a normal domestic moment)

(Also!!! I love your bravery and honesty during these sleepovers)

this is so sweet!! dealers choice!! and you're the sweetest, honey! all the love to you!!

it happens when he least expects it.

you've been together for a few months now--a few sunny, open-mouth laughter, cherry wine, late night ice cream trip filled months. he knows--and has known--that you're special. you're different than the other people he's dated, but not in a big and scary way. it isn't even something he can really even pinpoint; it's just the way he feels about you. there's just a tug, an invisible one, that keeps your bodies close all the time.

when he realizes he loves you, you're sitting out on the back deck at your house. the sun is beginning to set and you're drenched in pink light, your hair falling very sweetly over your shoulders. you're sipping the rest of your rose as Bob sits beneath you, his lips resting on your bare shoulder.

"that was fun," you tell Bob contentedly, soothingly rubbing your fingers up and down his thigh. "they should come over more! wanna use my deck more often."

"you're the only person in the world who wants to host seven fighter pilots for a two-course meal," he says softly, smiling. "and also the only person in the world who tells them to not worry about cleaning."

at that, you glance at the table. soiled napkins, empty wine glasses, dirty plates, strewn cutlery decorate the places where the squadron had sat earlier.

you're flustered now, grinning at Bob.

finally, you turn on his lap and grin at him.

"just want your friends to like me," you admit to him.

"they do," he tells you, really meaning it. he thinks Bradley might like you a bit too much. "who wouldn't like you, sweetheart?"

before you can think of answering, you see it--there's a smudge on Bob's glasses. those sweet blue eyes are somehow blind to how dirty those glasses get, which is why you've taken it upon yourself to always carry around a lens wipe.

"honey," you say softly, smiling as you take his glasses off and sit up to reach into your jacket pocket. "you really are blind, huh, Floyd?"

and then you diligently begin to clean his glasses. solid, slow movements as you very carefully swipe the cloth across the lenses. Bob watches, his smile fading, as the sun hits you just right. the most beautiful girl he's ever seen in his life is cleaning the glasses he's relentlessly teased about by his squadron and the rest of the world. and he can tell, with everything in his being, that you want to do this. for him.

and even though he knows, he still asks, "you don't wear glasses, right?"

you shake your head, glancing at him.

"so, you just carry a lens cloth around for me, then?"

you're a bit flustered again, carefully putting his glasses back on his face before wringing your hands together and nodding. in the past, you've been accused of caring too much. you don't want Bob to think that you're pushing yourself into his life too deeply.

"yeah," you answer sheepishly.

you're going to explain, but then Bob is holding your cheeks between both hands, stroking your skin with his thumbs carefully.

he truly wasn't expecting for it to happen here and now. he wasn't expecting you to carefully clean his glasses for him after hosting all of his friends at your house, after you fed all of them, after you insisted that everyone go home after dessert without cleaning up. but here you are--his angel drenched in pink-light, flustered at her own sweetness.

"I'm so in love with you," Bob says simply. and he thinks it might be what he is most sure of in the world. "like, in a big way."

[lordeemailarchive]

Pure Heroine turns 10

(27/09/2023) (PH 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY DISPATCH)

Living in Ruins of a Palace within My Dreams

Photo by Simeon Patience

Hi,

Firstly, I wanna say thank you for your extremely supportive and kind messages after my last newsletter. I genuinely feel deeply cared for, less alone, and more sure that things will be okay after sending it! Albeit with a slight overshare hangover. I think a part of me knew that I had hit a wall, and that I needed to invite in the compassion and understand I’d been struggling to generate on my own, and then I’d have something to draw from and mirror. It feels like it’s working. I feel incredibly grateful that we have this relationship, that we can each give when the other needs it. Beautiful stuff x

Now, might U have noticed it’s 2013 mode round here????????? Yes that’s right, it’s a very special anniversary… Pure Heroine is... ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡TEN ˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YEARS ˚༘♡ ⋆｡˚ OLD ੈ✩‧₊˚ TODAY ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You may (like me most of the time) hold the opinion that this album has been MYTHOLOGISED QUITE ENOUGH, but a milestone is a milestone, so I thought coming here and typing some shit to u about this time would be a fun thing for those who care.

2 xxxxtra special ltd time only commemorative designs by Hassan, who did the original of this bootleg tee 10 years ago❤️

It’s close to midnight, and I’ve just finished scrolling through my entire computer and phone archive from 2011-2013. Going on this memory lane ride has reminded me, for one thing, what a different time it was technologically. We were just starting to be able to see ourselves in real time, but we weren’t constantly connected. I had an iPod touch until halfway through 2013, which didn’t have a front camera or internet access, and my sister and I shared a MacBook, which is where we did our schoolwork and I wrote my lyrics. I took my first few years of selfies on Photo Booth…. Just let that… sink in!!!

Note the Royals Nat Geo pic in background— it’s happening...

When I was fourteen, my greatest work of art was my bedroom. A very cool, very classic teenage bedroom, Andie’s and Duckie’s from Pretty in Pink meets the Virgin Suicides— fairy lights, fabric on the ceiling, candles, stolen road signs (badman), paper lanterns, beer crate shelves, magazine pictures and club night posters and permanent marker on the walls. Bliss! I’d sit up there and vibe out, taking a lot of selfies. Creating a small-scale work of art using the self, and then examining the product from every angle, was the best method I had to express myself and exercise creativity at that time, and I now see it as an important PH incubation phase, whether I knew it or not. Something really amazing about a young person starting to see their own face and body for the first time, coming to a very secret understanding that they are beautiful. 

I started to smoke weed, which gave me a deeper understanding of sensory pleasure, and allowed me to start to see my world as a possible work of art. I’d go on long walks around the neighbourhood, and began to mythologise the stuff around me (big empty floodlit rugby fields/bus rides/dark streets/boredom/isolation) into the motifs that would become Pure Heroine. I wore a lot of like, navy lipsticks from the 2 dollar shop. God, this aesthetic, It’s just TOO MUCH.

At some point in here, I met Joel, and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. When you’re a teenager, you’re particularly sensitive to adults being condescending to you, not respecting the specific and finely tuned skills you have because of the ones you don’t. I was always on the look out for it, and from the first day meeting Joel, I knew that he would never give me that feeling. Which I’m sure wasn’t easy — my wallet at the time was the foot of a pair of tights that I cut off and knotted at the top — but somehow from the very beginning he made me feel like my ideas had value, like we were peers, in the most sensitive and age-appropriate way. 

My view for thousands of hours making this album

We got on a call earlier this week and broke down the complete history of making the album. We both agreed that making Pure Heroine was deeply exciting and intimate and free, and still one of our most treasured experiences. I’ve linked it here.The second half of 2013 is when I really met the world, went to America and Australia and Europe for the first time. I found an incredible (for some reason Christmas themed) disposable camera image of my stage outfits all over the floor of my hotel room, which really sums up how ad hoc everything was at the beginning — a jetlagged sixteen year old, late for lobby call and frantically stuffing thousands of dollars of borrowed clothes into a suitcase. 

In this stage, it felt like I pulled everything off by the skin of my teeth. Every week was the most exciting week of my whole life, I was so tired and still didn’t have a winter coat and took everyone clamouring for a piece of me completely for granted. I had zero cultural context, had no idea if an interview or TV show was huge or small, and so breezed through it all truly not giving a fuck. I am not a naturally nonchalant person, it was literally just too much to care about, I could hardly get up in the morning, so I just said absolutely whatever I felt like, all kinds of wild shit, if someone did something corny I’d say so, I was ruthless in that way that only teens are. Then through that year we went on our first tours, met you guys for the first time, hours and hours of hugs after the show, my favourite part so far and where it started to feel real for me. James took a lot of beautiful film photos through that time, and I’m really grateful he did.

Ten years goes really fast. One minute you’re wearing a leather collar with a giant crystal hanging off it to a Chanel party, and the next you’re blonde. A lot of stuff isn’t good after ten years. But I am still totally touched by this sweet record. I have deep respect for the vision of the little one making it. 

Going back through all of this has reminded me of something that feels important to point out, whether you make art or not: everything starts out as a bunch of bullshit in a laptop. Pure Heroine was a handful of Photo Booth selfies and emotional Word documents and Tumblr posts (and a gorgeous over-decorated bedroom) before it was even one song. I had no reason, on paper, to believe that I was capable of anything. But if you can trust that the first impulse you had to create came from a place of deep wisdom, develop a few principles for your decision-making, and absorb a lot of stuff you find inspiring, you’ll have something special on your hands. Pure Heroine exists because I had the tiniest inkling of what I’ve now come to see as one of my guiding principles: that each of us have a handful of songs inside us that are ours, and only ours, to sing. Your specific interests and upbringing and physiology and experiences exist only in you; you are sitting on a gold mine that no one can rob. Whatever that means to you, whatever that statement you were born to make is, I invite you to take a big breath and make it.

All my love for another ten years of all this, and more, and more—

Ella XXXXXXXXXX

(source: received this email)

[lesbiandanhowell]

Sam reacts to: Dan and Phil React to Every Phil is not on fire! #3

- Literally ran away from my mum for this video, we were watching tv on the couch and I saw the notification and fucking RAN.

- Shaking with anticipation they look so, old school in Dan's shirt and the denim jacket. This is how I remember them from when I first became a fan of them and just that brings up so much nostalgia.

- NOSE TOUCH TEXTURE. Someone on tumblr called that Phil would do it again and they delivered.

- hear discourse (what the heck was I on about with this one??)

- Why did he just fully show his underwear on the internet, like they really already didn't give a fuck anymore back then did they?

- Their sensory icks coming through with the mushroom, like I know that is not a neurotypical reaction.

- Phil hitting dan adorably when Dan says phulge.

- The ladders song appreciation, they do just like their silly compatibility do they?

- "Natural talent for duet improv song writing" cute

- The photo phil took of dan on the couch is so cute somehow I can't explain. It's so, intimate and so, domestic it makes me feel all giddy.

- The salsa and nacho laugh were SO uncomfortable they hated that, like Phil's laugh is not one of finding it actually funny I am sorry.

- "Uhh gif it" FUCK YOU PHIL

- Grandma Lester is THE icon, the more we learn about her the more I admire this woman and everything she did in life.

- PINOF 7 really is very good

- SOFTLAUNCH OF THE GAY HAHAHA

- PHIL CAN NOT STOP POINTING OUT THE TOUCHING IS DRIVING ME INSANE. lIt doesn't feel like he is doing it anymore to make fun of us, his tone is different and he isn't mocking us anymore... it feels like he is doing it for his own fun and almost appreciation of how they have become more comfortable with it.

- The discussion if Yuri On Ice was gay, Dan has much higher standards than I do (or Phil for that matter) and not everything is about sex daniel.

- The only thing I have to add at this point is how much more comfortable they are with touching and being close again by PINOF 8. You can tell they are out of being paranoid af about fans analyzing everything and coming more into just, being themselves again and not avoiding each others space.

- Phil not knowing his own diss track but knowing Dans is the most whipped behaviour I have ever witnessed.

- The nightstand exposure, like Dan just fully naming everything (almost I'd say) that Phil has in his night stand haha.

- They skipped some good parts big sad times, I get why because there simply isn't enough time to do four videos in one but still sad.

- "Sometimes I slept in it" WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMETIMES This deadass confirms what we thought about the bedroom being a filming set and not actually their his bedroom, which is wild to me.

- PHATASS mention, Dan we know you love Phil's ass by now but thank you.

- "How did the floorplan stalkers even survive this era" oh Dan...

- Soft gay, they are acutely aware of all the things we picked up on as 'gay proof' and are not acknowledging that we weren't all that off really, they were just deeply closeted.

- THE AMOUNT OF NEW SELFIES WE ARE GETTING. The couch one, the ice deep throating... also the ones of Phil are so much more tame than Dan's.

- Dan is a PINOF 9 truther, interesting

- THE BUTT RIBENA FLIP. Glad they included this in their reaction because we were waiting for it.

- Dan can't stop looking at Phil, like this is so fascinating to me but we know Dan's side profile so much better than ever because he genuinely can't stop looking at Phil

- I think them ending it at 10 was perfect, it really is so sacred now.

- PHIL HAS DISCORD (I am so tempted to sent him a friend request. Update: I did and he doesn't take friend requests lol)

- Have these seen the our discussions about who would win a fight?!

- They really look so fond of their past selves, it makes me happy that they can actually appreciate their journey.

I can say that this journey through the 10 years of their career made my chest swell with fondness because they really have grown and been through so much. Being able to look back on this and see how much they have grown since then makes me so honored that we have been able to share their journey for this long.

See you tomorrow for another #sam reacts!

[beanibon]

Could you write headcanons about Vash dating someone who also has a bounty on their head? Not from anything like murder or thievery, but a sizable group that holds a personal vendetta against them. Hope this isn't too vague. Thanks.

I think I do, kinda as if they wronged someone and they put a hit/bounty on them? (At least that my understanding)

TW: not any really, do let me know if I need to add any

Vash didn't really know the extent of your bounty the first time he met you, nor did he ask as it wasn't his business to. But since you've started dating you were a little more open about it, explaining how you've somehow ended up wronging an old gang your family was apart of.

Vash was super understanding, vowing he'd protect you if anyone dared to harm you. In a non-violent way of course, which you'd be lying if that didn't worry you.

You respected Vash's code of no killing, but you weren't much of a fighter yourself, so you still embarrassingly needed to heavily rely on him for protection.

After a particularly nasty incident regarding a few bounty hunters, you begged Vash to teach you how to shoot a gun. He reluctantly agreed, only after hissing in pain of pulling another bullet from his shoulder.

It took you a while to gain enough confidence to shoot a gun, even after weeks of Vash teaching you. Something about shooting others, even for survival felt wrong.

Since the both of you have bounty's on your heads, it makes it hard to have intimate moments. Hotels could be hard to book, meaning snuggled together in a single sleeping bag, which neither of you minded, but I bed would've been more ideal.

Vash, who is extremely touch-starved, always wants to have you close. Especially if you two barely escaped being shot full of bullets, he'd want to hold you close, nuzzle into you, fill his senses with you. It reassures him that you're still there, still alive and with him.

The one major issue with being constantly on the run, is there'll always be trouble lurking around every corner. A shoot out waiting to happen the moment you two sneak into a town, someone will recognise either you or Vash, or both.

You've been injured a few times, only by a blade though, as you're wanted alive. But there was one occasion where a bounty hunter got a little too trigger happy, resulting in a bullet burying itself deep in your thigh.

Vash spent that entire afternoon, doting on you in the hospital. He was worried sick the moment you screamed out, by your side in a heartbeat.

He pampered you. Just imagine all the donuts he'd buy you, if flowers grew on Gunsmoke you best believe the room would be full to the brim with a variety of them. He never left your side, apologising constantly for not keeping an eye on you.

You simply smiled, ruffling his hair as you kissed him, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault. He appreciated that, pushing you over a little so he could snuggle up next to you.

(Was scolded by the nurses the next morning).

Vash cares for you deeply, and will do anything to make sure you're safe and living life to its fullest. He loves you and you love him, if circumstances were different he was sure you'd both be happily together in an old cabin, cuddling on a sofa.

[morvantmortuary]

my buddy @bigtiddythanos asked a while ago about what our OCs’ Top 4 on Letterboxd would be, and I needed something to do with my hands while I finally got around to watching maxxxine last night, so I actually went ahead and made them! and here they are, bc why not!

Necromancer Top 4s:

(eta: this is rae from the future, I had to come back and swap this .gif out, you’ll see why lmao)

Maxi -

Candyman (1992), Harold and Maude (1971), Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), and yes, Phantom of the Opera (2004), which just narrowly beat out Silence of the Lambs and the Vincent Price House on Haunted Hill. He’ll never say no to a rewatch of the Final Destination series, either — they’re his version of the Fast and the Furious. the way he giggles at some parts is somehow both unsettling and endearing at the same time.

(‘is hex being shirtless relevant’ yes. it’s the only way he watches movies. ‘really?’ ssssh.)

Hex -

El Espinazo del Diablo/The Devil’s Backbone (2001), The Sixth Sense (1999), Peeping Tom (1960), and El Orfanto/The Orphange (2007), which just edged out Talk to Me (2022) and Savageland (2015). He will happily tell you why the latter is deeply underrated if you finally agree to watch it with him, but it will take about an hour after the movie ends for him to finish. (He’s not wrong though, imo 👀)

(here, rora’s shirtless-ish too look she’s very all or nothing this was the best I could do, we’re equal opportunity shirtless enjoyers!)

Rora -

she wore out her VHS of the original Carrie (1976) when she was alive, so that’s at the top of her list. the rest are The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962), and Black Swan (2010), which she thankfully only would’ve discovered after she came back to life, otherwise it would’ve been her whole personality in high school. She also would love May (2002) and Excision (2012), both of which might hit a little too close to home in different ways :’D

(these necromancers just can’t watch movies with their shirts on! for real!!)

Seth -

The Wizard of Oz (1939), Tod Browning’s Freaks (1932), Singin’ in the Rain (1952), and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920). He also loves the high drama and spectacle of DeMille’s Cleopatra (1934) and Lang’s Metropolis (1927). If you jokingly ask him if he’s seen any movies in the last century or so, he’ll just blink at you, thinking, then be like “…I thought the 1989 interpretive dance remake of Dr. Caligari was good? :D” or ask if you want to watch the Cabaret with Liza Minelli in it. (He would go absolutely bonkers for the X trilogy, though, relating way too hard with Maxine Minx and Pearl.)

(does anyone in greymoon own a shirt?? who’s to say)

Bonus! Leon -

…he doesn’t know what Letterboxd is. :’D baby doll still has the most minimal version of a smartphone possible. as for movies, he’s happy to watch just about anything with you, but he’s impossible to watch either westerns or vampire movies with, as he usually points out what they’re getting wrong while chewing on what look like some home-made red vines he pulls out of his freezer. (Don’t ask.) He also talks like Lestat is a real person he actually knows and actively has beef with whenever you watch the Tom Cruise ‘90s version of Interview with the Vampire. you can’t tell if he’s doing a bit or not and you’re too afraid to ask, tbh??

anyway! thanks for humoring me! definitely google some of these before you watch them solo, bc they can be pretty scary or pretty bleak, depending or just. Not the Best Version of the Phantom, but Fine :’D

if anyone does their own OCs’ Top 4, I’d love to see it :3c

[confusedfoam]

Some dndads travel headcanons, because why not it's summer and it's traveling season for lots of us. only did s1 dads because they unfortunately still own my heart.

Darryl

- He has left southern California like twice in his life, and both were just going up to northern California. once for his and Carol's honeymoon, and another time when grant was like 8ish to finally go visit Casey and see her brewery.

- Absolutely despised sleeping anywhere that's not his home. the few times he's had to stay at a hotel / families house he just can't sleep at all

- He has never been on an airplane and has absolutely no desire to do so. If he ever did go on an airplane he would be a disaster internally and externally that would come out as being extremely over prepared and way too early. also he would Suffer in airplane seats.

Ron

- Was dragged all up and down the west coast and some of the interior as a little kid before Willy got completely sick of traveling with his wife and kid and dumped them back in Stud's old house that he technically still owned but had been let sit for years.

- Good at short and long road trips, weirdly bad at anything in the 4-6 hour range. it's not long enough to him to really settle into the drive but is too long to be remotely casual.

- Deeply fond of sketchy dates motels and kitschy roadside attractions. Will absolutely buy cheesy tourist t-shirts if presented the opportunity.

- Also not really an airplane guy, never had much of an opportunity until he was grown and then had no one to travel with. But if he did fly he would be that guy who doesn't bring anything to do with him and just watches other people's movies over their shoulders. also he'd forget to take his belt off going through airport security.

Henry

- Never left the Oakvale area as a kid, so his first trip was a Big One

- Spent his early earth years road tripping around the US, hitting different national parks and such. Falling absolutely in love with the diversity of nature when you don't spend all your time in one patch of forest. He absolutely Lost His Mind at the Grand Canyon

- Continued to travel a lot as he and Mercedes got older and had the kids and everything, they loved taking the boys to different parks and camp sites and such.

- Also really enjoyed traveling internationally once he got his whole paperwork situation sorted.

- Was pretty freaked out about flying the first couple times, but now he's a pro. Unfortunately he is an incredibly chatty seat mate and also one of those people who wears sandals without socks on an airplane. so he puts his bare feet all over the floor at security

Glenn

- Traveled a very average amount as a kid, just little family vacations. Tagged along with where ever Bill was going during summer breaks as a younger teen.

- Drove all over the freaking country as an older teen / young man seeing various shows and trying catch The Glenn Close Trios big break.

- Shares Ron's fondness for weird little tourist traps and questionable attractions / restaurants

- Extremely pro car camping, if only for all the hazy memories of doing so in his youth.

- Would make sure that somehow he could block out a week or so to take a road trip with Nick somewhere during summer break.

- Flew a few times as a kid and such. Absolutely hates flying as an adult, it brings out the conspiracy theories in him hardcore and he absolutely cannot do it sober.

Jodie

- Hell does not have vacations

- Traveled many realms as a young and wild demon, having misadventures of the sort that get you trapped in a guitar

- as Jodie Foster the human cop and married man they only took incredibly basic family vacations to the stereotypical vacation spots like once a year.

- Has no feelings on airplanes in any particular direction, besides he would like more leg room.

[cipheramnesia]

Hiii beautiful Cipher!

Recently we were able to watch Nope and absolutely loved it!! Her at home we have a couple of roommates who are not really into horror but Nope worked for them as it is a horror that feels like a western/sci-fi.

So we come to you asking for recommendations on horror movies that work that way.

Nope is kind of a tough act to follow, because it's one of those movies that hits on all levels - story, subtext, character, plot, cinematography. You name it, and Nope knocked it out of the park. So, tempered expectations, there's nothing else which will hit quite the same, I think.

Two movies I think are quite good and complimentary are Prey and Tremors. Tremors in particular comes pretty close to the same scifi western monster movie vibe of Nope, including a pretty similar pace and similar plot beats. While it doesn't quite aim as high as Nope, it's a classic of the horror genre for a good reason, and a whole lot of fun. It leans more into humor, although it's firmly a horror movie. If you or your friends somehow never heard of it, and you don't have "hard out" triggers, my advice is go in fully blind because much like Nope it has a lot of enjoyable twists. Some triggers I'd add would be animal death (sheep), fear of heights, child in danger, and obviously fear of earthquakes or similar.

Prey was all over Tumblr so I don't think I need to add a whole lot. It's one of the movies in the Predator series, and easily one of the best. The original Predator could also work to compliment Nope, but I think Prey fits it better. Watch it in the Comanche dub obviously. It's more of a departure from being directly a Western movie but syncs up enough to fit the vibe and it's likely to find a similar positive reception with anyone who enjoyed Nope thanks to the way it balances character, story, and action while using a deft but light touch with the horror element. This is one that's not really much for twists and turns so ahead and go nuts at doesthedogdie.com if you wanna.

A few others that mash-up horror, science fiction, and western movie tropes or themes, but which don't compliment Nope as well, are Pitch Black, Turbo Kid, and Prisoners Of The Ghostland. Pitch Black is from back in Vin Diesel's early days, and feels like something right in between Aliens and Firefly. It's a low stakes, mid-budget monster movie that doesn't reinvent anything but makes for a fun ride. Turbo Kid is a retro 80s movie more than western per se, which imho leans too hard on the style and not enough on the characters, but it's full of weird mechanical devices and showdowns and standoffs. Prisoners of the Ghostland is something fully different than Nope, but it mashes up the western and samurai genres along with post apocalypse themes and an overall dreamy surrealism that puts it more in line with Mad God. But it sure is scifi western horror, kind of. Content warning: Nicholas Cage.

If we get a little further outside the western area, there's definitely some other films that are a good follow up for Nope. Immediately to mind is the spectacular scifi horror movie Attack the Block. It's another great movie to in blind on if you can, not so much for specific plot twists, as purely the story unfolding is so good and so fun that getting to enjoy it unspoiled is deeply satisfying. It's a fantastic bit of humans versus aliens that illustrates how to masterfully take a very conventional story and tell it in a way so unique that it feels new each time you watch it.

Related and tangential to the western movie is the apocalypse road trip movie, aka the Mad Max genre. One of my favorites is the little seen 80s movie but released in the 90s Highway To Hell. It's a curious bit of film with some bits that aged poorly, but for the most part it's surprisingly smart and chock full of iconic moments, including racing the devil for a soul. More recently I would suggest the Wyrmwood movies (Road of the Dead and Apocalypse), as absolutely balls out zombie movies like nothing you've seen, unless you like Z Nation, but even then they're still unique. In particular Wyrmwood Apocalypse has some of the western movie vibes, but it's uniquely bizarre in execution.

Lastly I wanna give a shout-out to Red Hill, which is not science fiction or horror, but is a banger of a modern day western movie, particularly with how it tricks the viewer into the idea that it's heading one way and then, well... something quite a bit else.

[your-divine-ribs]

Red Part 13

Words: 3.8k

Elevator sex and feelings 💔

Red Masterlist Main Masterlist

His lips are warm and moist, pliant as they press firmly against yours. Intoxicating like a hit of the most addictive drug and infinitely more destructive. You can feel your resolve crumbling, your knees weak as his whole body pushes yours against the lift wall. But still you resist.

"Kiss me back," he breathes as he pulls back slightly, his forehead still pressed against yours. "Please Y/N. Just one kiss... that's all I ask."

He makes it sound so simple. A kiss. Just one kiss. Like you can indulge yourself for a brief moment and then part ways, go on living both your lives like it doesn't mean anything. Like you don't want more and more of him with each encounter, the need for him now so strong it's all-consuming, your mind fogging over as your self control ebbs away with each of your thudded heartbeats.

"Van... we can't..."

You dimly wonder when it all changed. The exact moment when your need for Van became so much more than just a few stolen sleazy encounters. You've tried so hard to write these feelings off as simple lust, a burning desire to taste the salt on his skin and hear his panted breaths in your ear and to feel the warm heavy weight of his body pressing down on yours, but you know that there's so much more.

You can feel it now, a yearning beneath the heat, an ache that will never be fulfilled with just these snatched moments. But you can't think of that now. You need to be strong.

He pulls one of your hands that he's still holding upwards towards his chest, pressing it flat against his rain-soaked shirt and holding it there.

"Can you feel it, huh? Can you feel my heart? It's fucking breaking for you and I can't stand it any longer. It's been hell not seeing you these past few weeks. I've missed you so goddamn much that it actually hurts."

He stops and closes his eyes for a brief moment, his long lashes dusting his cheeks. When he opens them again you're sure the yearning in them mirrors your own. "It's you Y/N... only you. It's always been you, even way back when we first met."

What the fuck is he talking about? Besides that stupid drunken kiss one time at a party you'd always been friends and nothing more... before you became sworn enemies. You're sure this dangerous mutual obsession is the product of both of your twisted minds craving something you know you shouldn't have.

"But... but you don't really want me... not really," you stutter. "There's been so many girls over the years I've lost count. It's easy come, easy go with you. You only think you want me because you can't have me. It's like some kind of challenge to you. Come on... admit it. If I wasn't with Larry we wouldn't be here now... doing this."

"Bullshit," he protests. "You think I actually wanted any of those other girls? They were just a distraction. No one compares to you." He releases your hands, raises his up to cup your face, tilting it up to his. "You were with Larry so you were out of bounds. I knew I had to accept it, much as it killed me, so that's what I did. I thought it'd get easier, and it did for a while..." He pauses, swallows deeply. "That's when I noticed you looking at me different. Fuck... I couldn't believe it at first... wouldn't believe it. I tried so hard to ignore it, believe me, but it's like there's some kind of connection between us... pulling me in. I can't explain it but I know you can feel it too."

You can't fully comprehend what you're hearing, you just know that you wished he wasn't saying it. Somehow he's making this fucked up situation that you're in seem acceptable, like you're justified in fooling around behind Larry's back because there's some higher power at work. But it's not, it's still wrong. You can't face breaking Larry's heart. You'd rather break your own.

"It doesn't matter how I feel..." you begin but Van cuts you off, his fingers brushing over your cheeks tenderly.

"Of course it does!" He exclaims. "Just listen to yourself. What you gonna do? Carry on living a lie, trying to tell yourself that you don't feel anything when you're around me? Because I know you do, I can see it in your eyes. You want me Y/N. No one else makes you feel the way that I do. Not even Larry."

"You don't know that!"

Your reply is no more than a sobbed whisper with no conviction. Van's hips are still pinning yours against the back wall, making it hard to form rational thoughts. It's so exhausting holding back, lying to yourself over and over. Every word that's coming out of his mouth is the truth and you hate it. The air around you both is heavy with the weight of your need.

"So go on then... tell me..." His voice is soft and smooth, gentle but seductive. He leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to your lips and pulls back. "Does he make you feel like I do?" Another kiss, on your cheek this time. "Can he make you feel as good as I do?" His hand moves to curl around the back of your head, giving him access to your neck. You extend it willingly, a shiver passing through you as his lips brush the sensitive skin there. "Be honest with me now." And then he catches the lobe of your ear in his teeth, lightly grazing it before he breathes his next line directly into your ear.

"Can he do what I do for you?"

You let out a long, shaky exhale, and with it the last ebb of your self-control disintegrates. It doesn't matter whether it's right or wrong. It doesn't matter about broken hearts and lies and deceit. All of that melts away in a heartbeat. The only thing that matters is the here and now. His lips on your neck, the hand that's wound tightly through your hair, pulling you close, the other that's dropped down to glide over your hips. Everywhere your bodies are connected sparks electricity. He presses himself against you like he means to melt into you, like he wants nothing more than to be inside of you. And that's exactly where you want him to be. It's where he belongs, you're sure of that now.

"Kiss me Van, just fucking kiss me."

"Oh Y/N," he sighs, and then his lips are on yours again, feverous this time. They press against yours in desperation like he's discovered the elixir of life itself. Teeth clash, tongues entwine, lips mash against lips with bruising passion. He slides a thigh in between your parted legs and you let out an unexpected moan at the friction on your heat which he hungrily swallows down.

One hand's still pressed firmly against his chest where you can feel his heart thumping wildly whilst your other finds his hips, fingers twisting through his belt loop, pulling him closer. You tip your head back as his lips stray to your neck, kissing and nipping gently at first but then sucking harshly at a spot that makes you squirm.

"You'd better not leave bruises," you warn, even though a dark part of you relishes the thought of him shamelessly branding you in that way.

"Maybe I will," he teases, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "Mark you up so that everyone can see that you're my girl really."

With your head thrown back an image of the two of you entwined reflects back at you from the mirrored ceiling and you watch, entranced as he drags the hem of your damp t-shirt upwards in one swift movement, exposing your breasts.

"You're so perfect," he mutters, scattering hot kisses all over the column of your neck and down your collar bone.

A shuddered breath escapes you when his lips travel down to close around a nipple, your back arching off the wall when he starts to gently flick his tongue back and forth over the bud. It feels so good you think you could come undone right there and then. You grind yourself on his thigh, desperate to sate the ache building between your legs.

"Fuck Van," you moan as he roughly tugs up your skirt around your hips and slides a hand down between the apex of your thighs, a finger slipping under the lace of your thong.

Everything's happening so quickly you barely have time to catch a breath let alone consider the implications of what you're doing. Right and wrong are suddenly concepts with no meaning. Everything just feels so natural, like it's meant to be, and so goddamn good that you don't ever want him to stop. You reach down to tug at your panties, inching them down your hips and Van takes over, impatient, practically tearing them from your body in haste. They get discarded carelessly on the floor.

"Wanna fuck you so bad," he hisses, his eyes blazing with raw need. He rocks his hips hard against yours, sandwiching your body between his and the cool metal. "Wanna fuck you until your legs are shaking."

"I want that too," you gasp. "I want you inside of me... now."

His tongue laves hungrily over your nipple whilst he slides a fingertip over your slick folds, your breath catching as he pinches at your clit. You swear you can feel him smirk against your skin at your demands as you writhe under his touch. You don't think anyone has ever evoked such a feral need in you before.

"Please Van..."

Your hands fly straight to his belt buckle, fumbling with trembling fingers but he knocks them swiftly away.

"Not yet... want you to come for me first..."

He traces a finger along your slit before easing it inside you, swiftly following it with another, thrusting deep, twisting his hand so that he can press his thumb to your aching clit. You're so wet you can hear the lewd sounds of your slickness as he starts to fuck into you with his fingers, slow at first, a maddening pace that builds and builds like a throbbing heartbeat.

"That feel good?" He murmurs, his voice deep and dripping with arousal.

"Yeah," you breathe, feeling yourself clenching uncontrollably around his fingers. "Oh god yeah."

He raises his head to watch you then, loving seeing your face contort, drinking in your whimpers as you cling to him.

You're caught there, pressed up against the wall whilst pleasure streaks through you. He pulls his fingers back to spread your wetness over your clit before plunging them back inside you, making you mewl, repeating the motions until you can barely take it.

"Oh," you moan breathily. "Oh shit... oh fuck."

"That's it baby, don't hold back. I wanna hear you."

He does it over and over again, every pump of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge, every calculated flick of your swollen clit. Moan after moan slips from your lips, each one more urgent than the last until it all melts into one, your legs starting to tremble. You're absolutely soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, your eyes rolling back in your head as he coaxes your imminent high.

"Come on Y/N... let go for me..."

You're going to come. Any moment now. You can feel the promise of that euphoric pleasure like a tight white knot of pulsing heat in your core. As he feels your body tensing he hones in on your clit, hyper-focussed on your sweet spot, moving in tight circles.

And then you let it overtake you, a primal moan tearing from your throat as your body bucks and you spectacularly fall apart, grinding against his hand. Van doesn't let up, wringing every ounce of pleasure from your climax until your whole body's shaking from the sensitivity. You feel like you've died and gone to heaven.

But still it's not enough. You want more.

You're in a daze as he finally pulls back, not even in control of your own actions as your hands dart straight for his belt again, deftly unfastening it and hurriedly tearing at the buttons of his jeans. This time he lets you, taking over once they're unfastened to push his jeans and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. He's as hard as rock as you wrap your fingers around his length and the groan he lets out when you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock is positively sinful.

You give him a few tugs, sliding your hand up and down his length, the warm, hard throb of him in your palm so deliciously gratifying. You're both panting hard, the noises of your desperation bouncing off the walls, amplified in the small space.

He quickly stoops, hooking your legs in the crook of his arms, sliding your body easily upwards against the smooth wall as he straightens up to his full height.

"That's better," he smirks. "Wanna look you right in the eye this time when I make you come again."

Smug bastard, you think... but you love it.

You're on a level now as he holds you against the wall, his fingers curled tightly around your thighs. His cock slides tantalisingly against your wet centre as he grinds against you, tempting you, a look of pure satisfaction on his face that he has you right where he wants you.

"Just fuck me Van... please," you whine, no longer caring about consequences.

"Well... seeing as you asked me so nicely..." he grins salaciously, pushing his hips forward so just the tip of his cock ruts against your entrance, teasing you.

You fist at his damp shirt, trying to press your body closer but you can barely move. He has all the control in this position as he pins you against the wall. All you can do is cling to him and wrap your legs tightly around his hips, squeezing your thighs around him.

He presses his forehead to yours, both of your heads bent down to watch as he pushes his hips forward slowly and purposefully, filling you up inch by inch, the burn of the stretch aching in the most divine way.

"Fuck…” His voice is low and guttural, choked with need. He doesn't pull back straight away, just rests there inside you, buried up to the hilt so you're fused as one. "You don't know many nights I've dreamt about this very moment. You feel so right. Better than I ever could've imagined."

"I don't want this to end," you blurt, and your words take you by surprise, the admission hitting you all at once in a wave of certainty that shakes the very foundations of all that you've been fighting against. "I don't ever wanna stop."

"We don't have to," he replies, and before you can even react his lips are crashing into yours again, forcing your head back against the wall as he pulls his hips back and bucks into you hard, the blissful sensation making you cry out into his mouth.

Nothing matters now except the two of you, the driving force of his hips as he impales you with his thick cock, filling you up so perfectly, the fervour of his kiss, the desperate moans that fall from both of you as he fucks into you with animalistic passion.

You breathe his name, your head falling back as he trails wet kisses along your jaw, your fingers clawing at his shirt, trying to find some sort of purchase to ground yourself. Not that you ever want to come down from this high. Your pelvis is angled just right so that each thrust rubs a blissful friction on your clit as your bodies collide.

"I can't get enough of you," he growls into your ear.

Everything's so intense in the confined space, amplified somehow, the wet smacking sounds of his lips and your ragged whimpered breaths. Images of him thrusting into you are everywhere that you look, the obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin as his hips pound harshly against yours, driving your back against the wall with a punishing pressure. It's a sensory overload in the best possible way.

You hadn't thought it was possible for your body to react again so quickly but the feel of him hot and rigid inside you, filling you up so good is almost too much to bear. You can feel the pressure building with each rut of his hips, your bodies sliding slickly against each other.

"You feel so good... so good," he gasps, and his words peter off into a cacophony of groans so raw and urgent that you can feel yourself start to unravel, clutching at him as he spills into you, his darkened eyes fixed on yours as you both surrender to each other.

His fingers tighten their grip on your thighs as he surges into you one final time, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as you shudder in unison through your highs. His head quickly falls to rest in the crook of your neck as you feel the tension in his muscles finally dissipate, but he doesn't release you. He holds you tighter than ever, his body flush against yours, still connected in the most intimate way as both of your hearts thud wildly against each other's heaving chests.

The tiny lift carriage was sweltering before but it's practically unbearable now from your shared body heat and your passionate exertions. You feel dangerously faint, but neither of you can bear to part, lest it break the spell. There's a voice in the back of your mind chanting over and over how right it feels but you're terrified that as soon as he lets you go then the cold, hard weight of reality will come crashing down on you both.

It's inevitable... and you don't have a choice.

You clutch at the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other smoothing down his hair before you let your fingers stroke soothing touches down his spine. "Van... you're going to have to let me go."

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he whispers into the skin of your neck, softly with an edge of hopeless desperation that wrenches at your heart. "I don't ever wanna let you go. I don't think I can do this any more. I can't carry on living like this... seeing you with him. I need you. I fucking need you. I'm falling Y/N... I'm falling so bad."

He lifts his head to look you right in the eye and you don't think you've ever seen him look so serious and determined. "I... I...." he starts, then he screws his eyes shut, biting his lip. Your stomach drops. His eyes flick open and he takes a deep breath. "I think I'm in…”

"NO!" You blurt with force, a panicked fear striking you suddenly in anticipation of what he might say. "No... don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

"But I..."

"I said no Van," you command him, your throat feeling thick. Your head's a jumbled mess of feelings and there's a surge of emotion building in your chest like a tsunami ready to break and wreak havoc and you can't deal with his heartfelt declarations now. Not when you're now sure you feel the same way and especially not when you're currently stuck between the twelfth and thirteenth floor of a hotel where your boyfriend's awaiting your arrival. Your loyal, loving boyfriend who has no idea that you've just been fucked to within an inch of your life by his traitorous best friend.

"Put me down... please... we need to work out how we're gonna get out of here. We can't talk about this now."

"So when can we talk?"

He reluctantly loosens his grip on you as he gently lowers you back down to your feet. You immediately falter, your legs shaky and weak, but he catches you, steadying you with strong hands around your waist.

"I don't know... I really don't know, I just think..." you begin, but your words are cut off as the lift suddenly jolts and the lights flicker as it shakily rumbles to life.

"Shit!" Van exclaims. "We're moving!"

You let out a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a cry, panic clutching you in an ice cold vice as you lurch forward to grab at your panties from the floor, your feet getting tangled in the lace as you clumsily try to step into them. Van curses out loud as he hurriedly pulls his jeans up and tries to fasten them.

"The door's gonna open. Stop it! Can you stop it?" You cry out, your heart slamming against your rib cage, your blood running cold.

"I can't fucking stop it now!" He yawps, fumbling uselessly with the buttons on his fly.

You're still haphazardly trying to adjust clothing as a loud 'ding' blatantly announces your arrival at your destination and your eyes dart to each other's helplessly before flicking towards the door which immediately starts to slide open to your abject horror whilst you're still pulling your panties up your hips. Van's jeans are unfastened with his belt hanging loosely from his jeans, but he's too late now, you're out of time. He darts in front of you, hands outstretched in a weak attempt to hide you as the door fully opens to reveal a figure standing there.

In reality it all happens in a flash, but for you it feels like it's playing in slow motion. A series of incriminating freeze frame shots from a movie that documents the exact moment that's going to change all of your lives forever.

"Sophie..." Van mumbles as he stands there frozen in shock. "We were... we were just..."

He trails off as you peer meekly from behind him, smoothing your short skirt down your thighs which are wet and sticky with the evidence of your crimes.

Sophie just stands there, her eyes as wide as saucers and her mouth hanging agape, disbelieving shock rendering her speechless as her gaze falls on Van's disheveled appearance and his unfastened fly, then your scarlet cheeks and your crumpled clothes as you finally step around him to take your place at his side. It doesn't take a genius to work out what you've been up to. The air in the elevator is thick with the heady scent of sex and the cloying aura of guilt and shame is overwhelming.

Your sordid secret's finally out... and there's nothing that you can do about it.

[cluelessatthispoint]

HI ITS PLATONIC YANDERE ANOM HERE AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR COMING IN YOUR ASKS AGAIN BUT I NEEDED TO GET THE IDEA OUT OF MY SYSTEM BEFORE I COMPLETELY FORGET ABOUT IT IM SORRY!!!!

I keep thinking of a platonic Yandere!RED Pyro with either a BLU Engineer!Reader or BLU Spy!Reader. The idea of Pyro, an absolute menace of a human, a danger to everything and everyone to some degree, a complete pyromaniac and ABSOLUTELY NOT sane in the head caring so deeply for someone who they are supposed to kill just fills my lil heart with joy.

Yes, they did force you to join their tea party with their "friends"(who are a bunch of dead parts of your teammates), they also broke all of your weapons and MAYBE went a little overboard by "begging you to stay just a little longer"(pointing their axe at you while starting directly at your soul) but like- c'mon! You two are besties!! It's normal!!!

They just want to spend their time with you out of battle! And your corpse after a battle or your severed head that Medic was experimenting on simply doesn't hit the same spot as talking to you while you are alive and "well"! Even if that means that they will have to tie you to a chair with a "lovely red and blue ribbon"(literally the tightest and itchy rope ever known to man) and "put a do not disturb sign on the door"(locking and barricading the door so nobody can leave or enter). They just want to spend time with you!! Is it so wrong to have you by their side on work days just for a few hours?? I'm sure your team won't even notice!! Just stay calm and let your good friend Pyro help you relax and forget about the outside world :D

(SORRY THIS IS SO LONG :()

To make this easier I'm going to write the reader as the BLU Spy. I really love the idea! Pyro is such a little crazy guy and I love him, not as much as engie. But it's pretty darn close. :) No worries about the long request, the more detailed the better!!!

warnings: platonic yandere, blood, mild gore and kidnapping.

~~~~~~~~

Being hired as the new BLU Spy for the BLU team was a surreal dream come true. The opportunity to go to new places and to see new things and experience different cultures while getting paid was really a great deal. Being under the tutelage of the former BLU Spy for years now you felt more ready for this job, than at any other job. The sights, the sounds, the comradery! It was perfect. Well, almost perfect.

Having worked for the team for a little over three months you began to notice right away that there was something up with the RED Pyro. That crazy arsonist seemed to target you every time in battle. No matter if you were cloaked or in disguise, he would somehow always know that you were there. It was so humiliating!

The time you disguised yourself as the RED Sniper he seemed to know right away. Remembering how you made it as far as the door to the intel room before he rounded the corner and hacked you to pieces with an axe. It was horrible. The feeling of white-hot pain and warm blood pooling out of you was one of the feelings that you would not have repeated. That damned RED Pyro, well. he has another thing coming to him that's for sure! Today for the match you made a plan. Before the RED Pyro could find you, you would find him!

The thought made you smile. With fifteen minutes till the battle started you set to finalizing every detail. Instead of cloaking and running to the RED Sniper's nest you would track around the RED base and disguise yourself as the RED Spy. Grabbing your tools and your invis watch you made your way over to the respawn room and waited. Before too long you were joined by your fellow teammates. The noisy din echoing off the tiled walls served as a comfortable distraction.

The memories of previous battles only fueled your determination. The disturbing memory of watching the previous battle's clean up flashed briefly across your mind. How from a distance you could see the enemy Pyro go digging around in the pile of corpses looking for something. You don't know why you stayed, why you watched him from afar. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity, or maybe it was just to simply be nosy. You weren't quite sure. But when the Pyro pulled your severed head from the pile you felt your knees wobble. The way he held your corpse in his arms seemed almost tender-like.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts you readied your disguise. The voice of the Administrator signaling the start of the battle rang out loud across the field. Steeling your nerves, you cloaked yourself and headed out the door. Walking around the field, dodging bullets aimed for your fellow teammates you had only one objective in mind: to kill the RED Pyro.

Walking around the battlefield you noticed one thing that was odd. There were only eight RED's on the field. The Pyro was missing. Feeling a pit of dread well up in your abdomen you continued cautiously onwards. Finally making it inside the RED base you put on your disguise and walked freely through the halls. Every once in a while, the sound of soft footfalls from somewhere behind you made you put up your cloak in defense. Looking this way and that, there were no signs of anybody being nearby as far as you could tell.

"My nerves must be shot." Your soft voice sounded so quiet and yet so loud in the empty base.

Walking around, you couldn't find any signs of the RED arsonist anywhere. And it was really ticking you off.

Rounding a corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. There right in front of you, starring you down; like a mountain lion staring down its prey was the Pyro. Bringing a hand up to your face you adjusted your disguise, softly exhaling as you felt the paper between your gloved fingers.

"Ah, Bonsoir mon ami. I am just in here for a relaxing smoke."

Beads of sweat rolled down your masked face. Something wasn't right. The way he stared at you; something was wrong. Something here was very, very wrong. Trying to quell your rising panic you didn't notice how he took a small step forward. Then another, followed by another. Feeling your breaths increasing, you closed your eyes. Fight, flight or freeze. Three of the things that a spy should overcome if they ever wanted a chance to be successful in their career. Stopping in front of you the Pyro looked down at your disguised face. Being only a few inches shorter than him he still seemed to tower over you.

To Pyro, you looked so cute trying to disguise yourself as his friend. But he would always know who you disguised yourself as. After all you are his bestest friend. The way that you looked for him today seemed to prove that. Placing a heavy hand on your shoulder he pulled you into a hug. To you however, his hand pulled you into a chokehold. Feeling your mask slip off you flailed your arms and legs every way you could think of. Slipping free from his arms you ducked down and ran further into the base.

Feeling a smile rising to his lips he watched as you disappear as you rounded the corner. What a great friend you were; trying to find him first, then initiating a game of hide and seek. Oh boy! what fun! From the amount of time that passed from you searching him out to him choking you the battle was long over. The doors to the outside battle grounds were sealed shut. Finally happy to have his best friend over for a game of hide and seek and a sleep over he chuckled happily to himself. Oh, what a great time the two of you were going to have. Especially since the next scheduled battle would take place in a week. The idea of having a friend over for a whole week put some pep in his step.

You both were going to have a great time. Whether you liked it or not.

~~~~~~

Playing hide and seek with Pyro would be absolutely terrifying and so much fun at the same time!

[hahnspoetrywrites]

I Love You, I'm Glad I Exist (Abbey Smith (Misfits) x fem!reader)

A/N: i love abbey with my heart and soul and she deserves all the happiness in the world

Warnings: mentions of SA, violence, blood, kissing, dirtbag drunk man at the bar, jess and alex being a bit insensitive (mainly jess), please let me know if i've missed any!!!

Word Count: 4.6k (i'm so sorry it's a longer one)

AO3

Whenever you were all at the bar Abbey always sat next to you, arm wrapped behind you as you leant against her. This was usually what happened when the community service gang hung out.  Rudy was usually chatting about some random woman he got with, Finn was usually pining after Jess, Jess was always after Alex the bar man, but you were happy cuddled up next to Abbey. You were never sure if she knew you’d liked her or not (heck, you weren’t even sure if she liked women) but you’d always savour this time with her. She never complained, if anything sometimes she’d pull you closer. Her hand sometimes caressed your hip, sometimes your shoulder, sometimes your arm. The second you’d all leave the bar, however, she’d leave without so much as a goodbye. It always stung, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

Tonight had started out no differently than any other. You guys had moved to frequent your usual booth as one member ordered drinks. Abbey seemed more distant today, choosing to sit away from you on the opposite side of the booth. You took a deep breath. It doesn’t sting, it doesn't sting, you thought to yourself repeatedly. Rudy eyed you cautiously. He knew your power all too well. 

You could share your emotions with people through touch and in turn, feel other people's emotions. You could sense their emotions from a distance but when you touched them, it became intense. You weren’t the best at opening up before the storm, bottling up as much as you could. But post-storm… it got so much worse. When your ex tried to touch you after weeks of avoiding it, they went flying into the kitchen table, your fear getting the best of you as they touched your cheek. Safe to say they didn’t come anywhere near you after that. You made a conscious effort to avoid touch, or any sort of attachment for that matter. The community service team somehow wormed their way into your heart, after you’d spent months avoiding as many people as possible. One member in particular had your heart, but you wouldn’t let them get too close. Your worst fear was hurting anyone else you loved, you’d lost enough people because of this power, you wouldn’t lose any more. 

Only Rudy knew what your power really was. Rudy made the mistake of touching your bare arm when you were deeply upset and you accidentally sent him flying into the mirrors in the community centre’s locker room. You had to hide it, which meant suppressing your true feelings about everything. Your anger, sadness, anxiety, joy, happiness. You always hid it, the happier emotions tended to slip away but the negative ones continued to boil and bubble. You very rarely let go and released them.

Rudy shuffled up closer, accidentally brushing his arm against your bare forearm as he did so, making him shudder. 

“You need to deal with all that at some point. Can’t keep bubbling it up, it’ll hurt that beautiful noggin of yours.” Rudy whispered, he always had a way with words, but this was sweet. He did truly care about you. He hated seeing you hurting in any way. 

“I’ll be fine Rudy, I promise. I don’t wanna talk about it,” You tried to keep your voice level, but you struggled when you noticed Abbey staring at a guy at the bar. You didn’t want to assume because that was never fair, but she’d never spoken about women in any way that made you think she’d like them. Her eyes travelled down his entire body, taking in his figure. You felt sick to your stomach. Why did you always fall for people who would never like you back?

The drinks hitting the table pulled you away from your thoughts, Finn sitting on the other side of you. He grimaced at your facial expression before pushing a beer in front of you. 

“What’s got you all miserable?” Finn asked, just as Abbey left the table, approaching the man at the bar. 

“Oh. That.” Finn remarked as he took a swig from his beer.

“I don’t get why you like her so much.” Jess commented, they never really got along, but that was not your business. 

“Jess, it’s true love! You can’t deny something like true love. It’s sacrilege… or at least it’s illegal.” Rudy explained, saving you from having to explain your feelings. Rudy turned to face you and winked not-so-subtly. Jess rolled her eyes. Abbey disappeared with the bloke at the bar, making your stomach tighten once more. 

“It’s alright babe,” Rudy tried to comfort you but it was no use. You’d have to accept she was never going to like you. You didn’t see her for most of the night, sitting in the same spot as everyone moved around, mingling with other people, maybe even leaving with them like Abbey had. You didn’t have the energy to mingle with people, holding all your anger and sadness was starting to become unbearable. 

“Now, what’s a pretty thing like you sitting here all alone?” A tall man approached your table, his smile slightly sinister as he took a seat without asking. 

“I’m here with friends.” You replied swiftly, not wanting to entertain him. 

“Well, I don’t see them. I think they left you, sweetheart.” His tone was condescending, giving a little smirk in your direction. You looked around for anyone in your group when your eyes landed on Rudy, who was still here and, for once, not flirting with a girl. 

“Rudy!” You called, grateful he was still here. He glided over, sliding in next to you before elbowing your side gently. 

“You alright, cherub?” He was drunk, you could tell. He only got more inventive with nicknames after a few. 

“Who’s this cheeky chappie?” He leaned forward, extending his hand to shake the man’s.

“Jake. And you are?” He looked annoyed and you smirked internally. 

“I am Rudy. The great and incredible Rudy. Here to offer and provide my services.” He shook Jake’s hand vigorously until he pulled his hand away forcefully. 

“Man’s got some grip!” Rudy exclaimed before laughing wildly. You noticed out of the corner of your eye, Abbey had returned to the bar but you didn’t spare her a proper glance as she walked right past the table and over to where Jess was chatting to Alex. 

“I’m gonna get a drink.” You blurted out, interrupting whatever story Rudy was telling Jake. Jake stood immediately, offering to get you a drink. You declined politely, not wanting him anywhere near you. You squeezed past Rudy and walked over to the bar, leaning against it when Abbey noticed you. She approached you warily, her clothed arm touching your bare one slightly. You yanked your arm away, making her sigh in annoyance. 

“Who shoved a stick up your arse today then, huh?” Abbey remarked, rolling her eyes when you scoffed. 

“I don’t have a stick up my arse, thank you very much.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, feeling your stomach doing flips at an alarming speed. 

“You’ve been giving me dirty looks all evening, you barely spoke to me during community service today, you don’t seem to be paying attention to me unless I’m with a guy. Not to mention you’ve barely touched any of your drinks. Rudy’s been drinking them all according to Jess. Babe, you know you can talk to me, right?” Abbey tried her best at sounding sincere but it came off as condescending. 

“I’m alright, thanks for the offer though, babe. “ Your anger began radiating off of you at an alarming level. You had to leave. You pushed past Abbey and out of the bar, feeling the cold air hit your bare arms and face, your skin immediately reacting. You rounded the corner down the alley to catch your breath. You heard the bar door open and close, praying it wasn’t Abbey. 

“Hey, I saw you leave… Are you okay?” It was Jake. He approached you, boxing you in against the wall of the bar. One of his hands braced the wall next to your head, the other almost touching your face. 

“I-I Yeah. I just- I just need some space. Please.” You tried to remain calm but he was too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath against your cheek as you tried to pull yourself away but he had you trapped.

“I think you owe me an apology. You weren’t very nice to me back there, you’ve been eyeing me all night, you can’t deny.” He pressed you up against the wall with his body, his thigh sliding itself between your legs. You squirmed, trying to push him off of you but you had no strength against him. You hadn’t even seen him before he sat down, you didn’t want to chat or get to know anyone. 

“Stop. Stop! Get off me!” He just pushed you into the wall harder, feeling the brick wall’s harsh surface against your back. 

“I don’t think so.” His hand found your hair and pulled harshly, exposing your throat for him to bite and kiss roughly. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something but you knew you’d risk losing control if you did. As his lips touched your skin you could feel his anger, his resentment towards your unofficial rejection. His desire to overpower you. It made you want to vomit. His thigh began moving between your legs, creating unwanted friction. 

“I can feel how desperate you are, god you are pathetic. Such a pathetic little whore.” He slammed his thigh against your core painfully, making you whimper. The hand bracing the wall moved down your body, moving towards the hem of your jeans. As his hands moved to undo the button, you could hear the bar door open. 

“Keep quiet.” He whispered against your cheek. He attempted to kiss you but you pulled your head away violently. His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed, making you cough. 

Someone began to walk round, recognising the sound of Abbey’s boots, you prayed she’d find you. 

“Babe, can we talk? I think we…” As she walked round the corner, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She was furious, and you hoped it wasn’t aimed at you.

“What the fuck?” She glared at you incredulously. 

“Ab-Abbey please. Pl-please-” He squeezed tighter, making her wheeze painfully. 

“I thought you were different. I really did.” Abbey continued to berate you, approaching you slowly. 

“Turns out you’re a whore like the rest of us.” Abbey’s eyes held a glimmer of heartbreak, of sadness and you couldn’t hold it in. You screamed in pain when he began to touch you, the raw power of your emotions sending him flying across the pavement, landing on the floor with a painful thump. You fell to your knees as your screams died down, collapsing down into the pavement and letting the darkness take over momentarily.

You felt blinding hot pain sear through your body as you regained consciousness, making you writhe in pain as you returned to your own body. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, your eyes were clamped shut. You just exploded in front of Abbey. God, you could’ve hurt her, killed her even! Your pain was the least of your worries at that moment. You could hear grunting and groaning, someone yelling but it was distant. The blinding pain began to slowly subside, allowing you to refocus on what was going on. You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Rudy’s hand against your hair as he smiled at you. 

“Abbey! She’s awake.” He called out, you tried to speak but no sounds came out apart from quiet squeaks. Abbey rushed over, the panic in her eyes evident as she came into view. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry that I said those things to you but you needed to blow and it was the only way I could get you to react, I’m sorry.” Abbey’s hand caressed your hair softly. 

“It’s okay,” You croaked. You sat up slowly, Abbey’s hands immediately moving to guide you upwards.

“He’s only unconscious, he should be okay. You’re lucky there’s CCTV here. They can see everything.” Rudy pointed out and you nodded. You didn’t really care about CCTV at that moment. You couldn’t stop staring at where that man’s body laid unconscious. You nearly killed Abbey. You hadn’t noticed Abbey’s hand moving to hold yours, allowing her to feel what you were feeling, to know every detail of your emotions. She gasped at the intensity of everything but shared it with you, feeling your shoulders get lighter as her other hand moved to stroke your hair.

“Hey, hey… Look at me.” Abbey’s voice was calm, gentle as your eyes shifted from the unconscious body to Abbey’s familiar blueish-grey eyes. 

“I’m here, babe. I’m here.” Abbey made an effort to block your vision of where he laid as Jess and Finn walked out of the bar. 

“Oh fuck.” Jess’ voice was loud and brash as she observed the scene and Abbey turned to give her a disapproving look. 

“So she’s the only one out of all of us who has a power actually worth having? Fuck, that’s so annoying.” Jess walked towards the unconscious man and laughed, kicking his leg to see if he’d wake up. 

“Jess, shut the fuck up.” Abbey snapped.

“Yeah, Jess. Girls just been through the worst and you wanna mock her? Bit insensitive, that!” Rudy and Jess began to bicker as Abbey turned to look back at you, seeing tears gathering in your eyes. You looked down, noticing her hand which was holding yours had bloodied knuckles, the skin slowly turning purple with bruises. You couldn’t stop your tears from falling and noticed one landing on her bruised skin. The hand caressing your hair moved to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into Abbey’s body tightly as you began to cry. You wrapped your arms around Abbey, pulling your hand out of Abbey’s to cling to her tightly. Abbey gently shushed your muffled cries as you buried your face in her chest. 

“I’ve got you, baby. I’m not going anywhere, it’s alright.” You could feel her lips press against your head, featherlight as she held you close. Jess, Finn and Rudy continued to bicker, but Abbey was more worried about getting you out of here. 

It was too loud for you, their arguing was hurting your head and making you cry more. Abbey could feel it, she could feel how tense and upset you were, your distress building up in her body. She was unsure how much she would feel, if it was only fragments or if it was wholly transmitted through your touch. She wouldn’t ask now, it wasn’t the right time. 

“Will you let me take you home, baby?” Abbey asked, feeling you nod against her chest as one of your ears settled against her chest. 

“I’m going to cover your ears. Need to tell these knobheads to shut up.” You nodded once more as her hand moved to cover your other ear. Their arguing muffled, her warm hand cupping the ear not pressed against her chest. You squeezed your eyes tightly as Abbey began yelling at the other three, but remembered you were safe in her arms. 

“OI! Would you lot shut the fuck up? Your arguing isn't helping her and you’re making her feel worse,” they all fell silent, noticing you shaking in Abbey’s arms and Abbey’s own angry demeanour, “I’m going to take her home and make sure she’s okay.”

You felt her hand come away from your ear as she removed herself from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering slightly at her pulling away but she was quick to stand, offering you a hand to pull you up. As you stood, your legs were shaky but Abbey was quick to wrap an arm around your waist. Her lips found your temple as the others mumbled half hearted apologies towards you (apart from Rudy, who was genuinely sorry and worried about you).

Abbey began walking away with you close by when Rudy rushed up behind them. 

“Uh… Could you, like, let me know when you get back safe please? And Abbey, don’t leave her alone tonight, yeah? She’s gonna need someone there for her and I think you’re the best one to be there,” Rudy tried to be sincere but missed the mark.

“I will, Rudy, don’t worry. I think I need to have a chat with her when we get back anyway.” Abbey smiled at you sweetly but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. She was probably going to reject you once you got back to your flat. Rudy handed Abbey your small bag too, making sure all your belongings were there before you both set off. 

Abbey was gentle the entire walk back, her hand on your waist distracting you from any other thoughts trying to permeate your brain. It was soft but firm, her thumb stroking softly. Your flat was a 15 minute walk away from the bar you all frequented, but it felt like 2 seconds with Abbey. The moment you entered your home she let go of your waist, turning on lights and helping you remove your shoes by the doorway before removing her own. Your apartment was small. The kitchen and living room combined in one space, with a small bathroom and slightly bigger bedroom. It wasn't amazing, but it was home. Abbey admired the decorations as she guided you to your sofa, smiling at how it already felt like home to her. It felt so perfectly and completely you, it felt safe to her.  

“Can I make you some tea or something?” You asked her, trying to be a good host. As Abbey sat you down, she exhaled a laugh. 

“Sweetheart, don’t you worry about me. I’ll make us some tea, yeah?” Abbey’s hand cupped your cheek, pressing a soft kiss against your skin before walking to the kitchen. 

She felt electrified when her lips touched your bare skin. It was warm, soft, and full of deep love. Love you’d hidden from her for far too long. As she made tea, she watched your nervous form on the sofa, noticing your foot tapping continuously against the floor. Abbey felt guilty, knowing she was mostly the cause of your distress. She’d pushed you away and messed with your feelings, being so overly affectionate and caring but never taking it any further than holding you. She never considered how that would mess with you or your feelings, but she’d never felt this way about anyone. This was all entirely new. 

As she brought both your drinks back to the sofa, she realised how much her hand hurt from the punches she gave that guy. Glancing down as she settled your cups onto your coffee table, she saw how bruised her knuckles were. You couldn’t help but notice too. 

“Your-your hands… you need to ice them. I think I’ve got-” Before Abbey could stop you, you’d rushed into the kitchen to find something in your freezer. You quickly grabbed a random bag of frozen vegetables from a drawer, wrapping it in the tea towel you had discarded by the sink this morning and returned to sit next to Abbey. You placed it on top of her bruised knuckles gently, feeling guilty when she grimaced at the initial contact. 

“I never did thank you,” You began, avoiding eye contact with her choosing instead to stare at her hands. 

“For what?” Abbey was genuinely confused, what were you thanking her for? Beating the everloving crap out of the man who tried to hurt you? You didn’t need to thank Abbey for that, she would’ve done that for you in a heartbeat, no matter who it was. No one hurts you and gets away with it.

“For- for helping me. And getting me to explode at him, I-I don’t want to think about what might’ve happened had you not-” Her free hand moved to cup your cheek, her thumb stroking softly. 

“Let’s not think about that, you’re here with me. You’re safe, no one’s gonna hurt you like that ever again.” Abbey tilted your head up to look at her, your eyes darting down to her lips then back up to her eyes.

“I- I know you know. How I feel, I mean.” You needed to tell her it was okay if she didn’t want to be with you. It would hurt like hell but you would manage. 

“Babe-”

“No, Abbey. It’s okay. I know you felt it… I did too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me or like me in that way. Just because you know how I feel doesn’t mean you have to… y’know.” You hated this, her knowing but not feeling the same way. It stung more than you thought it would and you weren’t sure you could handle it. 

“It doesn’t matter. None of it does, I don’t wanna be a burden or hold you back from being with the person you wanna be with. I’ll move on, I know I will with time. You don’t need to worry about me, you can find someone else. We don’t have to be around each other either, if it’ll make things eas-” Abbey’s lips captured your own, not wanting to hear anything else. You made a conscious effort not to touch her anywhere else, scared of overwhelming her with your emotions, but when her other hand drifted up your loose top to caress your back, your hands reached for her immediately. The frozen vegetables fell to the floor as your hands held her waist, trying your hardest to keep your emotions in line when Abbey pulled away, a few inches from your lips and whispered against them.

“Let go, baby. Let it all go,” She encouraged as she kissed you slowly, deeply, and you couldn’t help but let your emotions go. You let them wash over you and pass gently through Abbey, before they dispersed into the air. It was the first time you felt like you were in control. Abbey felt your overwhelming emotions gradually fade into something more manageable, something you could control. The hand cupping your cheek moved to take one of your hands on her waist, your lips moving in sync with each other as her tongue gently explored your mouth. Your stomach was full of butterflies, fluttering around as her mouth slowed down and moved back to more tender kisses. 

“No, baby. I don’t want anyone else,” she said between kisses, “I don’t want to move on, I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I didn’t know what to do… I’d never felt this way about anyone and I was scared. Scared of getting hurt but terrified of hurting you.” Abbey confessed. You struggled to believe her, but when her hand squeezed yours tighter you could feel it. Abbey was telling the truth. Her nose brushed yours gently as she stole another kiss. 

“Seems I’ve already done that though, haven’t I?” Abbey asked, melancholic with her tone. 

“No, no Abbey. You didn’t hurt me, I should've been honest with you. I just wasn’t sure how to tell you… or if you even liked girls.”

Abbey pulled away a little further than before and you yearned for that close contact with her once more.

“I think I did more to hurt myself but I’m glad you know. I’m assuming you feel the same way too?” Your voice betrayed you as it quivered slightly, but Abbey once again reassured you with a small kiss. 

“I never felt right with guys and not just the sex, it was everything. There was never a connection. With you, everything feels right, there’s no confusion, no doubt, no questioning it. I thought about it on the walk back, how I never felt right without you by my side at the bar, how I always felt comfortable talking to you about anything and everything at community service. I know Laura didn’t want me around but it didn’t always feel right, but you do.”

You felt more tears spring to your eyes. Abbey was so excited when Laura came around. When she found out she was her imaginary friend brought to life, she felt like she knew why she existed, she finally knew her purpose. But when Laura began to feel uncomfortable and rejected her , Abbey couldn’t understand what had happened or what she’d done wrong. Laura had created her so surely she was meant to be with her, but when Laura turned her down it made her question her existence altogether. Why was she here if she wasn’t meant to make Laura happy? Why did she exist if that wasn’t what she was made for? It hurt her more than she cared to admit and found herself asking these questions every day.  Then you fell into her life. Everything made sense again. She didn’t want to let herself get hurt again but, more importantly, she didn’t want to hurt you.

“You’re the one for me, babe.” Abbey smiled, pressing one more kiss to your lips. You smiled in response but failed to stifle a yawn in the process.

“I think you need to get some rest baby, c’mon.” Abbey stood, pulling you up with her. You immediately crashed into her body, hugging her tightly as Abbey reciprocated. 

“You’ll stay with me… right?” You asked, worried she’d leave you alone.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” She pressed a kiss to your hair before guiding you to your bedroom. 

The room was painted soft green, your bedsheets matching with a few decorative pillows and one or two squishmallows sat on top. It was clearly lived in, some clothes strewn on the floor, jewellery sat on top of a dresser covered in different products. Your bedside table was messy, a water bottle sat next to the lamp and a pile of 3 or 4 books were propped up by a fake flower pot. 

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess right now,” Your face flushed as you realised you’d left your clothes in a heap on the floor after your rushed shower this morning, including your underwear. 

“It’s alright, don’t worry. Let’s get into bed,” Abbey helped you shimmy out of your jeans and into your pyjama shorts, turning away as you removed your top and bra to put your sleep shirt on. Abbey then guided you to your bed, lifting the comforter up and watching you slide into your bed. Before Abbey could move away, you looked back up at her with those pleading eyes and she couldn’t resist. 

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?” You nodded, pointing at one of the draws on your dresser. She grabbed the first one, changing into your oversized plain black shirt. She was so beautiful and you blushed when she removed her jeans, her slender, toned legs were gorgeous. She left her underwear on before turning to face you, crawling up the bed before settling next to you. You wrapped yourself around her, feeling her featherlight lips leave kisses along your neck and jaw. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” She whispered against your cheek, kissing your soft skin. As you cuddled her, you felt safe. Her scent was soft like vanilla and slightly almondy, bringing you more comfort as you settled in to sleep. Once Abbey saw your eyes gently shut, she pressed one more kiss to your temple, her lips ghosting your skin as she spoke one last sentence before you drifted.

“I love you. I’m glad I exist.”

[sportsthoughts]

Sorry if I missed this lore drop previously, but how'd you get into the Pens? I love your gifs and positivity that you bring to the lb!

Buckle up anon. I thought about one line answering this but I enjoy the phrase 'lore drop' so much I think you deserve the deep dive. It'll take a while to get to the pens but you asked for lore so...

I have been sportsthoughts on tumblr since 2015 ish - maybe slightly earlier - and this has always been a sportsblr/sports rpf-y type blog in various iterations.

This blog was originally used for liveblogging UK Premier League and La Liga football matches. I have always been a huge football fan (my childhood team is Arsenal - north London forever ❤️ etc etc) and when I moved away to university at 18 none of my new friends were into sports and I really missed watching games with my family.

Finding other likeminded fans online who were also watching games and liveblogging them was such a beautiful experience and I have amazing memories of 2015-2018ish when I was a very active football blog, spent a lot of the time in the Arsenal/FC Barcelona communities here and had some beautiful trips to Barca.

I do have a sideblog where I still dabble in that space but in truth I very rarely liveblog football anymore because nowadays it's returned to being something I watch with friends and family so I'm not on my phone during games.

Here's where the pens come in - sort of. I've scrolled back through my AO3 bookmarks and can see in 2015 I also got into sports RPF for the first time. There are some incredible football RPF fics out there (let me know if you'd like some recs!). Somehow - probably through raiding people's bookmarks - in early 2015 I ended up reading a Sid/Geno fic called And Never Been Kissed and I was absolutely hooked. At the time of reading this I had:

1. Never watched a game of hockey in my life (side note, I don't think I can understate how little hockey coverage there is in the UK. Even the most ardent sports fan would probably not be able to name a single NHL player or team. Not even Sid! Not even Gretzky!)

2. I had no idea, nor any desire to look up who these people actually were. It was just like reading really well written original fiction.

For the next 7 years I thoroughly enjoyed hockey RPF and created (in my mind) entire personalities and appearances for Sid and Geno, along with all the other 'characters I came across regularly in hockey fic. Sid, I got pretty close to the mark. Geno, not so much. One day I will try and find some reference pictures for what I thought they looked like because it’s quite hilarious. When I re-read fics I love from during that time I laugh because I remember my Sid and Geno and how different they were from reality.

So, hockey was sort of in my life from 2015 but exclusively in the form of fics. I would scroll through the actual hockey bits of works because I didn’t understand the rules and why every single fic was an AU where professional sports people were allowed to fight each other mid game.

At this point I’d left university, and because I no longer liveblogged football games, I found I really missed sports fandom. Another sport I grew up watching and loving was Formula 1 so when lockdown hit in March 2020 I started liveblogging F1 races to pass the time (and still do sometimes - now over on @vroomlive). I loved/still love F1blr, but it didn't quite fill my fandom itch because:

1. We joke about it, but F1 is a deeply unserious sport run by a dire organisation (Liberty Media). They change the rules every week and it's managed badly to the point of being comical. There have been a few major cock ups over the years (including the 2021 championship literally being taken away from the rightful winner and given to someone else. To put this in hockey terms: imagine a completely valid goal being overruled in the last 5 minutes of the Stanley Cup final and then the ref deciding to give the other team a 5 on 3 powerplay Just Because) all of this is quite disheartening for long term fans - and has resulted in quite a fractured and angsty fandom.

2. There are only about 20 F1 races a year - so it's just not a sport that's on regularly. I love sports, and I want to watch sports all the time - so a sport that only gave me content every third weekend or so just wasn't really enough for me.

At this point, when I was feeling rather sports fandom bankrupt, the wonderful work of Sid/Geno writers and the influence of the tumblr dashboard converged. I worked this out by scouring my AO3 bookmarks - in April 2021 I read a Sid/Geno fic called Game Plan that I fell head over heels for. I’m still not quite sure what about this fic grasped me so deeply but I started reading a lot more hockey RPF.

Around the same time an F1 blog I followed started posting about Mat Barzal All. The. Time. I had no interest in this man and did not know he was a hockey player but over the course of about a year I became vaguely exposed to hockey content on Tumblr through that blog, and at some point in early 2022, saw Sid on my dash for the first time. I don’t remember the exact post but I remember seeing the name, doing a double take and thinking oh Shit! That’s Sidney Crosby from fanfiction! I was flabbergasted because in my mind Sid was in his early 20s tops, so seeing this early thirties, bearded, fat bottomed man on my dash and realising that that was Sid was such a shock. 

My hockey lurker era lasted from mid 2022 to early 2023 and I spent a lot of time, um, lurking. That sounds so creepy. I suppose I had never thought about actively joining a fandom before because my fandom engagement (one direction > football > f1) had all happened really organically so actually choosing to join a space as an adult was quite an interesting process.

By summer of 2023 my husband’s job changed again meaning he works away from home most weeknights and suddenly my late nights were extremely free because I’d hang out with friends and then go home at 10/11 to an empty house which I hated. I really found myself wanting to make fandom friends and have an at home hobby I could do late at night before going to bed so taking on a sport that happened 12am-2am (timezones!) seemed like a good fit. 

Alongside this on a totally separate track was my longstanding interest in fandom - most of my professional work/research is pretty standard psychotherapy stuff but I’ve done a little bit of work over the last few years looking at sex therapy (not as sexy as it sounds) and I have a real interest in the role that fandom and especially shipping/fic plays in shaping and expressing sexuality. It’s a bit of a back burner research topic for now but I suppose over the years researching fic and expressions of sexuality via fandom and shipping has just made me fall in love with fandom itself a little bit.

Plus having lurked around the edges of hockeyblr for a while I was just like, yeah, I really want in on this, this seems like an awesome community. The reason why I chose the pens was pretty straightforward - I felt like I knew Sid and Geno and after exploring the real life hockey, I, like most of us, was quite struck by who Sid is as a person and was just completely enchanted. Another side note - hilariously, when my husband first saw a picture of Sid last year he immediately said “Oh, he looks like me!” - do with that information what you wish. 

I really eagerly awaited the start of the 2023 season and without sounding too soppy, had already fallen in love with you guys before I ever watched a live hockey game. Every fandom has its difficult corners (pensblr included!) but I can honestly say - especially after the chaos of spending my teenage years knee deep in 1D fandom and my early and mid twenties in various parts of sportsblr - being part of this space has been the most lovely, fun, friendly, lighthearted, positive and beautiful fandom experience I’ve ever had. I feel like it’s the goldilocks zone of all the previous fandoms I’ve been in and I love it.

So yeah! That is the extremely long winded answer to your question, anon. I hope this is the ‘lore drop’ you were looking for lol

TLDR: I stumbled my way through sportsblr until I accidentally ended up here and I’m never leaving.

[forthedancingandthethriving]

(TW: Blood, vomit)

○●○

Buffer stands in front of the doors leading to the space of the infamous code chemist. The dark magenta doors had chains over them, strung tight with a lock over them.

The Admin approaches and gently touches the lock. Closing her eyes, she digs back through fuzzy memory banks and remembers the code.

She flicks the small latches, and the lock falls to the ground and disintegrates. The chains fall and swing, and they, too, vanish. The doors creak as they slowly swing inwards, and Buffer steels herself.

She walks in, and the doors slam behind her. A familiar layer of pink mist covers the foyer of the castle-like space. Grandiose and imposing, with the ceiling arching into a dome. Various symbols and patterns were etched into the walls, a language only those well versed could know.

This was Pink's domain of the space that she and her group owned. It was far more empty than she remembered.

Buffer drags her fingers over the pillars as she walks, the pink mist gently swirling around her ankles. Her hair bounces with each step, similar to the Admin she helped all those years ago.

Years she couldn't remember all too well, but it wasn't like it mattered. She needed to get that formula.

“I know you're here, Pink,” Buffer calls out as she pulls away from the pillar. She comes to stand in between two staircases that lead up to the second floor. “And I know that you know I'm here and why I'm here.”

She starts to ascend the staircase, holding out her hand. “Why? Why would you do this?” She frowns, clenching her hands as she looks up at the ceiling. “So many Programs are sick because of what you released! So many of my friends are sick! What compelled you to do this?"

Silence is her answer.

She reaches the top of the stairs and looks around. It was eerily quiet. She couldn't even hear Pink's Moderators.

Buffer takes a few more steps before she hears footsteps behind her. She whips around, eyes wide, to spot-

“Green,” she speaks, voice soft. Green was Pink's lover and a fellow Admin. Somehow, he was capable of conjuring the things Pink would need to make her substances.

Green stares at her, his body lax. He approaches, his footsteps louder than her own.

“G-Green?” Buffer stutters, backing away.

In a few short moments, Green was directly in front of her, towering over the young Admin. She flinches, looking up at his unreadable expression. His face is blank. Different from the past.

At least, she thinks so. Memories regarding him tend to be fuzzier than most, third only to her memories to Pink, which was second to her.. memories of her time here in general.

He reaches out a hand, and Buffer flinches. Is he going to hit me? What is he-?

Green's hand gently grabs a moderate strand of her hair, slowly running his fingers through it before stopping at the ends. The ends were a soft pink. (A pink Buffer never really remembers changing them to.) His brows were furrowed now, eyes narrow. He almost seems to be.. studying her.

He moves his hand away, letting her hair drop back into place. He mutters something under his breath. She only catches the “... you” part, though.

“Green?” Buffer blinks, utterly confused.

The Admin merely turns on his heel and walks off, heading towards the darkness that consumed the opposite end of the hall.

“Wait, Green!” Buffer calls, rushing after him. Despite the distance between them not being that large, Buffer couldn't catch him. Green was just barely out of reach, and soon, he walked into the darkness.

The younger Admin stops just at the edge, staring, confused. She couldn't even hear his footsteps anymore. Her logical processors were telling her none of this made sense and that she should just turn around, head to the laboratory, and grab the cure that she knew was there.

And yet, her curiosity nags her on. She wants to know what happened. What happened to Pink and her Moderators? Why was Green acting like this?

She inhales deeply and heads into the darkness. She feels on edge, but that's to be expected. There was something deeply wrong here. Green, as quiet as he could be, always answered her whenever she had questions, even if they were short or bullshit answers.

Steeling her nerves, she walks deeper and deeper into the darkness. It clings to the walls like moss-

Moss? Why did she make that comparison? Why would she-

Splash!

She flinches, stiffening. She slowly looks down, lifting her foot. She feels sick to her stomach to see blood mixed with moss swirling at her feet.

For a moment, her processor considered it to be Green's blood before it hit her. This was orange blood. Her heart drops.

Did.. did Orange get hurt? She thinks, slowly setting her foot back down and cringing at the small splash it makes. Why is there even moss here? I remember Pink hating that stuff..

She continues onward, her shoes splashing in the orange blood. She shudders at the noise, and a feeling of dread pools deep inside of her. This blood wasn't fresh at all, and yet it hadn't congealed or dried.

Her eyes flick to the bits and pieces of moss floating in the blood. Could it have something to do with that?

Buffer stops in front of a door. Looking down toward the bottom, she winces. “That's where the blood must be coming from,” she whispers, seeing the blood at a greater quantity there.

Reaching out, she grabs the door knob and twists it, swinging the door inward. “What is Green doing, heading into a place like this?” She murmurs, walking inside.

She jumps as the door slams shut behind her. She looks down and pales.

There was no blood. But an abundance of moss, that was all shades of green. Specks of orange littered the moss that coated the floor. (She couldn't help but notice how the specks of blood were the same shade as her own, and not Orange's. Orange's blood was a tad darker.)

Swallowing thickly with a now trembling body, Buffer continues forward, heading deeper into the room. A room she remembers well. While it was devoid of life, she saw the familiar work benches, large test tubes, and vials scattered about.

She walks over to one work desk and glances upward.

There was the balcony where Pink would watch Buffer work whenever the Admin had a test.

Looking back down, Buffer falters, seeing several text boxes. If she remembered right, Pink never took notes. The Admin merely committed everything to memory. Buffer was the one who took notes due to her poor memory. (But it was odd since she never needed to take notes in the Adminspace.)

She grabs one text box and reads.

Log #3

Another failure! I've failed again! This damned moss, where did it even come from?! Green can't figure it out either! We're all stumped!

It took her from me.. her smile.. her laugh.. the only one who truly knew and understood what we did here.. I can't lose her. I need to know what this moss did to her.

Buffer quickly clambers onto the table, staring at the moss on the floor. Though her eyes soon narrow, seeing how the moss was nowhere near the tables.

Odd.

She swipes through the textbox, seeing a second page.

Log #7

We got somewhere today. Red went to a world - Minecraft, I believed it was called. Yellow went with her, and they discovered… Fledging spores, so to speak. Apparently, the code they held nearly matched the code of moss that appeared here!

They won't be able to bring any here, but.. I couldn't care less. I'm going there myself. I'll fix her. Make her better. She'll wake up.

A swipe to the third page.

Log #10

Failures, failures, failures. I don't care what they say, I don't care that I'm being stubborn. They back off once I say it's so we don't have an infection of some sort spread. But I need to know, I need to figure this out. I will go insane if I don't.

This is nothing compared to what I have mastered.

This was definitely Pink’s writing. The Admin was always a bit intense whenever she had to write.

She set one down and picked up another.

Log #17

Red, such a hypocrite. Telling me to put down my work - as if she isn't working as much! No, no. I can't get upset. We're all hurting. None of my tests have yielded results.

But soon they will. I know they will.

Buffer slowly sits down on the table, swiping to the next page. “Hm..”

Log #24

I finally got something - it's less of a moss and more of a fungus. Green has been a tremendous help figuring this all out. Despite how many times I tell him, I know that he's blaming himself. None of us could have known she would.. deactivate. None of us knew she would bleed out.

None of us knew that she was mixing things she shouldn't be.

Who was Pink talking about? Did this happen sometime after Buffer left? It had to, considering that she couldn't find any memories relating to something even remotely like this.

Log #29

I managed to preserve a sample of her code. There was still code just a bit lingering. I grabbed it as soon as I saw it and put it into one of the test chambers.

I don't care how many times it takes. I'll fix her. Bring her back. She's not dead. That code still holds life. I'm sure of it.

Flicking through more of the pages, she frowns deeply as reads. It was more of the same. Pink declaring that she'd bring someone back, more notes about failures, and other sorts of things.

One apparent thing, though, was that Pink’s sanity and mental health had taken a hit by whatever had happened. Someone had deactivated a while after Buffer left, and Pink was trying to bring them back.

She left itches her shoulder, feeling a tingle there before grabbing the third text box.

Log #50

I can't forget the state of her when we first saw her that day. We were gone for just a few hours, and the lab was overrun by this damn fungus. And she was just. sitting there. Slumped over the table.

Her left arm was completely taken over by whatever the hell this thing is. So was her face. Her right ankle and left upper thigh.

We don't know how it got there. Got to her. All we know is that it's a fledging in only the Minecraft universe.

I'll eradicate it if I have to.

Buffer slowly clenches her hand. She rolls her right shoulder and tucks her left ankle under her right thigh.

This isn't about you. She tries to reason, to stop her worried thoughts. You would remember this.

Log #55

A breakthrough. A breakthrough. I got a breakthrough. Her code is still there, and I can remake it. She was never dead. Death never took her from me.

You'll be back. I'll bring you back.

Buffer's thumb trembles over the final word being covered. Slowly, she moves it.

I promise.

She exhales softly.

Log #60

I love Yellow. I care for them, and I cherish them, but if they don't get off my back about this.. who cares if this goes against all moral codes! I want her back! My Moderator, my apprentice, my heir - my DAUGHTER! I want her back! She's the perfection of what I do, the pinnacle of my teachings!

GIVE HER BACK!

Buffer, shakily, sets down that text box. “No more reading for a minute,” she mutters to herself. She felt shaky and sick, knowing that if she read more, she'd waste more time. She hops off the table, cringing at the soft squelch that comes from one of her feet landing in the moss.

She steps away and hurries over to another one of the tables, keen eyes spotting a box.

A box that had not been there before.

Throat feeling dry, she moves forward and clicks open the box.

Inside were the vials. Vials she knew contained the cure, because it was a cure she made as a test. It was how she knew. How she knew that Pink was behind this.

Buffer stares and stares and stares. She could take these and leave. She could take these and go back to the Adminspace, and try to forget what she saw today. She could ignore Green and Pink's behavior.

She could ignore it all and go home.

But she wouldn't. Because-

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Pink spoke, placing a hand on Buffer's head, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

Shaking her head, Buffer pulls herself from the memory and brings up a log box. From memory, she put down how to use and make more of the cure, something she knew Vitality and Kelsie would do just fine at replicating.

Opening a small portal command, she puts the box and log box through. Once she pulls her hands back out, it closes, and she's left in the darkness of the room.

Someone was watching her.

Her head snaps up to look at the balcony once more.

..

No one was there.

Buffer shudders. She glances around for any sign of vibrant pink, but finds none. She clenches a shaking hand over her chest, before her curiosity makes her look back at the text boxes. She makes her way over, hops back on, and shuffles through them.

Her eyes skim over the texts before something catches her attention. It was a number for.. something. Unlike the logs, it was something else that was numbered.

She lifts the text box and pales.

Clone.

It was a text box labeled ‘Attempts’. Swallowing down her fear, she opens it up.

59 entries. About clones.

The text box falls to the ground with a clatter when she sees the name. She feels bile rush up her through and she rushes as quickly as she can to a corner and retches.

“Ah, you're here!” The airy voice of Pink fills the room, and Buffer jolts. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stumbles away and looks toward the balcony.

Pink stands there, hands clasped behind her back as Green stands behind her, looming over her shoulder.

“I've missed you dearly, Buffer.” Pink closes her eyes as she smiles. “I almost thought you were intentionally not visiting me!”

“That- That can't be true,” Buffer stammers, pointing to the text box. “Pink, tell me it isn't true - I'm begging you, tell me that isn't true!”

“What do you- Ooh.” Pink pauses before giggling. “Dear, it's as true as the sky is blue.”

Buffer felt like her whole world was crashing down.

Pink continues to smile down at her, and Green manages to, somehow, continue looking down at Buffer.

“You're a clone, Buffer. The best one yet, I must add.” The older Admin smiles. Buffer's knees buckle under her, nearly giving out.

Buffer can hardly think. Whatever Pink is saying doesn't register. Her hands grasp at the air as a portal opens behind her. And she runs through it, stumbling out to her office on the other side. She collapses onto the floor, body and voice shuddering with each breath.

She hears a gentle, “I'll see you soon,” before the portal behind her closes.

(happy birthday @local-angst-dispenser <3)

[pascalsbby]

Oh Kat, let me start with I love you. I love you deeply and desperately for giving us Carnal.. the same goes for TDAHB. There appears to be no end in sight for how much this grows with each lyrical masterpiece I read and reread. How do I even start to compliment my favorite series and such a ethereal writer. Nothing I say can do either justice. But I am going to try.

The thing about it is that I not only relate to Birdie but you write in such a way that I also relate to this completely feral Joel.. the mental torment and torture they both go through is so palpable. You do such a beautiful job of bringing dark desires to life. It all feels so real. Something (everything) about Birdie is so deeply personal to me somehow. Like sure some of the details are not my exact lived experience (hitting close tho) but who she is at her core speaks to my entire being. I love her and want to hold her and never leave.

The dialogue, the set up, the internal monologue, real, real, real. Your style of writing gives some of the most visceral imageries I have ever experienced while reading.

I repeat almost every single line, paragraph over and over while reading. Letting the words roll around in my mouth and mind. I love the way they sound, feel and taste on my tongue. It is so poetic and deeply moving. My brain and body respond to your art in a way that has me on my knees for you, truly. It is such a hauntingly beautiful experience to read you work.

Thank you 💓

a gift for you "the warm, guts and roaring blood of me"

Sincerely, Carnal Mary 🫠

Mary, I love you back. Deeply. Here is my attempt at expressing what all of your love has given me.

I always sit and think about what I want to say, for far too long. Not because of any other reason besides the one where I want you/every who has commented and shown love, to feel how grateful I am for your feelings and thoughts. “I hope that they know when I say thank you I really mean: YOU’RE PROUD OF ME? YOU LISTENED AND LIKE WHAT YOU HEARD? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME?” Being seen and feeling heard feels good. It’s an understanding that I haven’t encountered too often. You make me feel seen, heard, understood, listened to. 

I haven’t written before this, in a really long time. I haven’t painted in a long time, either. Sometimes I think of high school me– she was familiar with far too much, far too soon, yet still believed in some sort of magic that is hard to pull from now. I’m terrified at the pace it's retreating, but it resurfaces every once in a while. It feels like an innate overflowing. The kind of warmth you can only get from sitting directly underneath the sun’s eyeline. I feel like that whenever I'm thinking/writing Birdie. She is a thousand different versions of me and you, of them, of him, whoever. But in this story, she is paid attention to… hated, discarded, loved; even in the name of love/lust/want/yearning. Yet she isn't shamed for any of it here. I’ve felt the overflowing the most when writing this, and even more so when reading what people (you) think about it, how it makes you feel, what you think about when reading it, too. 

Whenever I sit down and write, sometimes it hurts and I can’t get it out. Other times it feels like a warm hug. Regardless, I feel like I dug the heaviness out of my chest and sat it beside me for a while. This is the calm that I would sit on my bedroom floor and cry for at 14. This silence can’t be as loud as the deafening pull of someone else's forced anger/sadness/despair. This is mine, and yours, and whoever reads it and feels it in their chest, too. To hold the warmth, guts, and roaring blood of you is a privilege. Thank you for sharing your poetry with me.

Love forever n' ever,

Kat