#tummy in the blood (the yellow dress)

[simplisticallyconfused]

i will rise and i will face the morning laughing and i will try to find myself along the way but there’ll be days where i try and keep myself from crying as i try to face another goddamn day

[inked-out-trees]

not to romanticise life too hard or anything but ive been thinking about music and february and continuing on. this too shall pass. in the dark tonight i'm coming back for you. i will rise i will face the morning laughing and i'll try to find myself along the way. the universe is not against you. we will be together in the work and in the hurt. put the work in plant a garden try to stay afloat. there will be better days. there's a hole in the sky and i'm aiming for it. we're making it into march and beyond and by god we're going to sing.

[martysmadtunes]

Tummy In The Blood - The Yellow Dress

[mthevlamister]

“But I know I will find a way, because I always find a way”

[onmyyan]

Kiss the goat

A/N: Horror isekai? Horror isekai, here's part one of the Scream chapters, unedited, hope you like cuz it was so much fun writing

Pairing: Yandere Poly Ghostface x reader

It was such an odd sensation, you don't think you'd ever truly get used to it, no matter how many times it washed over you.

It was always the same, tranquil lull, and it always started in your lower tummy, like this wave of ice cold water suddenly replaced all the blood in your veins.

Whenever you first 'woke up' somewhere new, that damn feeling was always the first thing you noticed, and the only warning you'd get.

This time though, something was different. There was this mix of fear, confusion, and awe tossed in with the lull because you clocked your location immediately.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum

For a moment all you could hear was the the blood pounding in your eardrums, slowly , as you forced yourself to breathe, the surrounding noises faded in, at first it was just the chatter of a busy school, then you noticed the shuffle of feet dragging on concrete, with your heart pounding furiously against your rib cage, you pinched your thigh through your baggy blue jeans and began walking, focusing on forcing your feet to move, rather than the millions of other thoughts buzzing through your skull. Why? Well because there you stood, dropped right before the soon-to-be infamous Woodsboro High.

As you walked amongst the crowd of people there were a few things you noticed immediately about yourself, at least this version of yourself, which seemed to change with every new plot you were forcibly thrown in.

The jeans you wore were loose fitting and well loved, small holes in the denim here and there  gave you a typical 90's degenerate vibe, the soft cotton of the band T-shirt you were in felt comfortable against your skin, around your waist hung a oversized burgundy flannel with accents of mustard yellow, the fabric looked old and smelled of weed, a sigh rolled through your chest at the familiar smell, it was a bittersweet reminder of your life before this insanity began.

Glancing down at your outfit made you breath out a sigh of relief, at least you dressed better in this one. In the small shirt pocket, you felt a book of matches, the scratchy texture of telling you what it was without needing to pull it out, good to know.

Shaking your head you try your best to look as bored and uninteresting as possible, you've found these things were best tackled from a stealthy perspective. As you finally enter the school, the second you step through the open doors, there's this intense, hair-raising feeling that washes over you, everything in your gut is saying run away, turn around, but you don't.

Instead, you swallow the fight-or-flight instincts and continue your pace as if you hadn't noticed the predatory stare on you. It didn't surprise you, after all, the self-proclaimed directors of this twisted movie were bound to notice a new player being introduced so suddenly, you just hadn't yet gotten used to the uneasy feeling of being in the presence of a murderer.

Or in this movies case, murderers.

The stares you received from the rest of the student body helped to distract you from the heavy stares burning into you, as you leisurely walked down the halls people either mean-mugged you or ignored you, it helped to get a better feel for the role you'd been assigned, depending on how well you played said role was going to determine whether or not you ended up on the kill count.

For now, you kept it pushing, your hands resting comfortably in the pockets of your jeans, your right hand, which you only now noticed was covered in rings, brushed against the cool touch of something small and metal, you quickly pulled out the object to reveal a switchblade, the handle a glossy white with a simple heart scratched into the surface, quickly you tucked it back where you'd found it.

The grin that had stretched across your face as you traversed the halls was downright wicked, in your mini search you'd also come across a crinkled class schedule and a pack of gum. Curious (e/c) eyes diligently scanned the face of every student that passed, searching for any clue as to when exactly you'd popped in, having a clear timeline in mind made these things run so much smoother.

Casey Beckem gave you that answer in the form of a cliché shoulder check as she rounded the corner. She made a point to dust off the area that had touched you, and her scoff of 'Watch it freak.' made a snort leave your nose, god you loved the 90s, even the bullying was better.

Considering she was still amongst the living, you gathered this was before the start of the movie, fantastic. You pushed forward, far too wrapped up in your building excitement to pay any mind to the very dangerous man you'd caught the sight of.

You found your first class a few minutes early, thankfully the school's layout wasn't too hard to navigate, you were intent on taking proper inventory and prepping as well as you could. The teacher took you in with a surprised noise, clearly judging your character on your appearance.

You'd gotten pretty good at handling your, particular situation, so good in fact you'd begun to relax a little. Taking a seat by the window in the back felt very final girl of you, the thought making you giggle to yourself. Whatever entity responsible for isekaing you into this movie flashed between a real asshole and a slightly smaller asshole with each reincarnation, this time it looked like they were feeling nice as you started with a weapon. 

Your inner workings were put on an abrupt pause as Randy Meeks burst in through the door earning a glare from the otherwise silent teacher. The bright-eyed male made a beeline for you, his expression was akin to a puppy who just had its bone taken away.

"What the Hell San Francisco? I spent the last 15 minutes running around like some mook looking for ya'." he paused to sit down at the desk directly on your right. "You ask a guy to show you around then ditch em'? Cruel, undeniably cruel." You learned pretty quickly to just roll with it whenever someone from Canon spoke to you.

"My bad Meeks, I'll make it up to you." At this, the energetic man rolled his eyes, now leaning even closer. "Oh yeah? Meaning what- you'll actually take me up on my offer instead of responding with that cold familiar brand of cynicism? C'mon, it'll be funnnn." He trailed off in a whine. "Whoever told you begging was an option for you lied." You laughed, shaking your head at the way he visibly deflated.

You kicked your faded black Converse all star's on the back of the seat before you, legs bouncing as you allowed yourself to ponder your answer, the nervous habit had developed sometime between this movie, and one of your earlier incarnations and subsequent deaths.

This was a little more complicated, see the omnipotent fuck who put you here liked to screw with you, very much into the concept of seeing you mix with whatever plot that laid before you, so much so that anytime you fought against whatever scenario you were thrust into in any way you died horribly. The first time you'd been plopped into a movie was the original My Bloody Valentine,- a chill ran through your body like a punch to the gut at the thought, yeah you'd come a long way since then in terms of working the system but nothing was set in stone.

You figured whatever this offer from Randy was, would no doubt tie you into the plot, knowing better than to fight the waves, you pretended to think about it before shrugging. "Sure. I'll bite." The simple statement had him shooting out of his chair to fist pump before quickly falling back in his seat.

"Yessss-okay it's super easy, I spend my time rewinding the utter garbage the general population consumes on a daily." He was practically buzzing in his seat as he spoke. "Once in a while, the boss leaves for an extra long lunch break and I get to watch whatever I want- Child's Play, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street- you name it I got it." The redhead spoke proudly, leaning back against his chair with a self-satisfied look.

"You should be a salesman Meeks." The male bristled beside you, a tinge of red on his cheeks. "Yeah yeah, whatever Frisco- don't come crying to me when you don't have anyone to sit with at lunch." He teased, leaning over his desk, you smile toying with the ring on your hand, popping your neck with a sigh you took a second before responding, "Oh god, how will I ever survive sitting alone, whatever will I do." you spoke in a dead tone making the male at your side pout.

"You're cold (L/n), couldn't even pretend to care about my threat huh?"

You looked over with a teasing grin, "Course' not- I'm not a liar Randy.", it was then and only then that you noticed the tall Blonde unashamedly staring you down from the door.

Stu Macher had made his appearance earlier than expected but you didn't sweat it, or the almost hungry look he was giving you. Nope, not sweating at all. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, praying he hadn't caught your stare.

He had, naturally.

The taller male nearly took up the entire door frame, he looked a lot more intimidating in person. The playful look on his face was all the more haunting the more you thought about who he really was underneath it. What he was hours away from doing.

Randy, feeling the sudden rise in tension, refused to be left out, and tried to not so subtly block Stu's vision of you by standing up and not so casually sitting on his desk, his back to the future killer. "Anyway Frisco', I don't want you mixin' in with the wrong crowd okay?" He made a point to flick his eyes back towards the now pouting blonde, "Bad company makes for bad times. Just stick with me I'll show you the ropes." He made sure to mutter that last part, his expression drenched in fear for the briefest moment.

Before you could respond Stu had rather aggressively climbed his way over a few desks to plop into the seat in front of you.

His dimpled grin was rather infectious.

"Now that's no way to talk about your friends Randy." He almost seethed out his name making the shorter male curl in on himself like a rabbit, he turned to face you with flare.

"Hi, there hot stuff- Stu Macher, bad company." He took your hand in his much larger one, completely enveloping your own, the tension was broken by the comical handshake, how hard he shook it up and down dispelled all previous bad vibes, his devious little grin only grew at your response, "Hi Stu, I'm (Y/n). Worse company."

"So whatcha' running from in San Francisco? Girl's like you don't just show up outta nowhere for no reason." He didn't even try to hide the way he was checking you out, his half-lidded eyes eagerly drinking in every inch of the alluring stranger before him.

"Who says I'm running big guy? I might be the one doing the chasing." Maybe teasing a soon-to-be serial killer wasn't the smartest move, but you just couldn't help it, he leaned his head into his palm, the wide toothy grin promising nothing but trouble. "I think I like you- come sit with us at lunch."

"You askin' or telling?" You met his heated gaze with a cold indifference that only fueled the ever-growing fire burning in his belly. The larger male quickly fell to his knees from his seat on the chair, bringing his hands together in a dramatic motion, "Pretty pretty please hot new kid come sit with meee." The laugh tumbling past your lips was real, you quickly ushered him back to his seat, "As nice as ya look on your knees- this is embarrassing please get the hell up I'll sit with you."

He backed off with a victorious grin not knowing you'd just lied through your teeth, there was no way in hell you'd willingly put yourself in Billy's cross hairs, Stu was unavoidable apparently, but Billy? You'd hold out as long as you could, when lunch rolled around you managed to convince Randy to eat on the roof, and used the friendly conversation to get more information out of him.

It was during this conversation you discovered in this world, whoever you were, was Randy's new neighbor.

After the school bell had rung for the final time, you made a point to linger around Randy, usually, when you spawned in one of these things the plot was well into swing, but this time you were here early, and the change in routine felt all the more dangerous.

Thankfully, Randy came to your rescue, you tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear him say,

"-if you even want to that is- we'd mostly be watching the classics." He finished nervously glancing to and from, you managed to space back just in time to greet him with a half smile and a shrug. "Lead the way, Meeks."

"It's so cool how you live next door- when you told me at first I thought you were yankin' my chain." He said bouncing his way down the road.

Randy had stumbled home with sleep in his eye sometime around midnight, you weren't too worried for the guy as you knew they hadn't started their spree yet.

That was until the phone rang. 

For a moment all you did was stare. You knew who was on the other end it just didn't make any sense. 

Swallowing the thick ice cube of fear suddenly in your throat, you caught your breath as casually as you could.

As if on autopilot your hand scooped up the house phone, you surprised yourself with how calm your greeting was.

"Hello?.."

"Hey there sweet thing- you're up awful late aren't ya?" You tried to look as casual as you could, steadily making your way to every door, and securing each entrance, but it was hard to ignore the twinge of accusation in his tone.

"You're up too.." Was what you managed to get out, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Hm, that's fair. What were you up to? Have some fun with your boyfriend?" The last word sounded harder than the rest, with no humor in his tone, almost as if it was said through gritted teeth, like whoever spoke it spat the word out.

So he was definitely watching you, your mind racked with the best answer to keep Randy from harm's way.

"Just watching some scary movies with a friend- you like em'?" You asked leaning against the island in your kitchen. "Oh, honey- you've got no idea." Before you could respond he continued, "I will see you later gorgeous." and then he was gone

[frogchiro]

IM HOLDING YOUR HAND PLEASE WE CAN BE DELUSIONAL TOGETGER!!!!

no the letter should be so terrifying, but nothing in it is threatening towards you and its all praises, all words of utter adoration and instead of calling the police you're just on your bed kicking your feet like it's a normal love letter

you start wearing cuter outfits to visit Simon at the butchers, start looking for any excuses to see him! cute little sundresses that show you off a little bit too much, always greeting him with such a sweet smile, bringing him meals you've made with anything you've brought to him! leaving him a little letter confessing just how much you appreciate everything he does, and you mean Everything, and just how many nights you stay awake thinking of him :(

RAAAAAHHH LETS GO

You're absolutely right love :(( Dolling yourself up just to go over to his shop and buy some of that extra fresh meat he always specifically leaves for you, softly pouting and complaining about the new recipe you wanted to try but you accidentally made too much of the cream stew and you're afraid it'll go bad.

Sheepishly asking him if he'd like some as a kind of thank you for the meat he sets aside for you and all the nice things he's done for you like help repairing the old piping and Ghost is over the fucking moon. You offer to cook him food? Share your food with him?? It sound almost like a proposal to him; you already act like the perfect wife for him, you obviously must love him too right??

Wearing cute sundresses when going to the butcher's, always pretty and dolled up and your heart is hammering inside your ribcage, cheeks warm and eyes glossy. Also if you think that Simon won't jerk off to the image of you all neat and pretty in your little yellow dress think again. Gets off like crazy of the sheer contrast between you two; he's a very large man, standing at a whopping 6'4 killing machine, hands rough and callous from years of hard work in the military and now as a butcher, covered in blood. He's big, he's heavy and has a heady musky scent that he'd love to rub off on you.

And then there's you, so small compared to him and soft, your soft curves and body coming to him in dreams at night. There is a certain...something in your eyes that he can't quite decipher, a deep sadness and pain and yet you're still always polite to him and everyone around you, always smiling and greeting others, even rescuing that malnourished black cat that no one wanted and now it's the most spoiled fat black cat he'd ever seen. You smell so nice too, sweet like the baked goods you're often baking but also...like home. Like all those spices and seasonings you put into your food, your perfumes and your own distinct smell, like warmth and safety.

He's obsessed and in love, cums with a growl of your name and grumbles at the sight of his sperm covering his tummy and hairy chest, it should've been inside you and not waste it like this >:(

Little does he know is that you're laying now in your bed wide awake thinking about the mysterious dark butcher who captured your heart, his 'secret' letter in your hand as you re read it for the 3rd time and your heart swells and cheeks warm up at the borderline worshipful words of your 'secret admirer'.

[hajihiko]

Anyway. Hajime Hinata song, Tummy in the Blood - the Yellow Dress

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

"So even if the effort may come to nothing, you have to do something"

Hadestown / Orpheus and Eurydice, Rodin / Tummy in the Blood, The Yellow Dress / King Lear / Save Yourself I'll Hold Them Back, My Chemical Romance

[aapidae]

“Dance, Fall” (Mallory, 2014) • waiting (@mother-lee, 2023) • “ordinary things” (s.t. @ryebreadgf, 2020) • “Tourist Cabin, Porch” (Donna Dennis, 1976) • “Eggs, Dishes, Coreopsis” (Louis Fratino, 2020) • “Glowing” (The Oh Hellos, 2020) • “Cinematic Street Vibes: Monday Nights” (Abelardo Ojeda @cybergus, 2023) • “Tummy in the Blood” (The Yellow Dress, 2014)

[sunoksunny]

enhypen as songs in my playlist

tw: angst, insecurites, 1 (one) mention of dying, being left out, comparing themselves to others, needing to be perfect, and being forced to grow up (idk if these really count as tw but whatever)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: okay i didn’t mean for it to be sad but it gets kinda sad because most of the songs in the specific playlist I used have sad lyrics soooooo yea...

speaking of my playlist!! you can listen to it here! 

Heeseung

I scared all my friends away - beard

“I’ll try my best

To be who you think I should be”

Heeseung definitely feels a lot of pressure as the oldest

He knows the other members look up to him

So I think he tries to portray himself as always being strong and capable

When in reality he might be barely holding it together

I don't think he ever opens up about his own emotions to the others

And I think this might lead them to believe heeseung doesn’t trust them

But in reality heeseung just doesn’t want them to worry:(

“I tried my best to explain but it was too late

They’d already moved on”

Jay

I don't wanna be funny anymore - lucy dacus

I don't wanna be funny anymore - lucy dacus

“I don't want the joke to be on me

Yeah, I’ll buy the clothes and I’ll be the best dressed”

THIS SONG IS LITERALLY JAY

He is the mood maker of the group, and I think he is happy making the others laugh and giving them relief through having fun

But I think he wants to be seen as more than just that

He feels like people only see him as the “funny one”

He wants people to recognize him for his talents and skills too

So I think he tries many other things to find something he really enjoys

To make that his main thing instead of the mood maker

I think sometimes jay just wishes he could play a different role in the group

“Yeah, I’ll read the books and I’ll be the smartest

I’ll play guitar and I’ll be the artist”

Jake

It's ok I wouldn’t remember me either - crywank

“Let you forget that you were once my friend

Then watch another, go on and do better without me”

I think jake likes being needed

This might be why he is so happy to entertain niki

Because he wants to feel like his time and energy are welcome and necessary

I feel like he still has some insecurities from i-land

I think he felt separated from the rest in the sense that he hadn’t trained for as long as some of the others

He tries to make up for it by being a person the others can rely on to keep them stable and comforted

But I feel like he still feels a bit unworthy, or that someone who trained longer or had more experience should have debuted instead of him

“I want to end reality but I feel hesitant

Optimistic that the future will be more concerned than the present”

Sunghoon

Tummy in the blood - the yellow dress

“There is one perfect way of being

And I know that I will find it out someday”

Sunghoon definitely feels the need to be perfect

He wants to prove to others that being an idol was the right choice

But mainly he wants to prove that to himself

And sunghoon sees anything less than perfect as failing

I think he probably pushes himself too hard trying to be perfect

And I bet he compares himself to others a lot

Things like “why can’t I sing like heeseung?” “why can’t I dance like niki?”

The pressure that he felt from being a figure skater didn’t leave when he became an idol

Since some people attributed his success as a figure skater to his looks

He is worried that people will do the same now

So he constantly tries to be perfect at everything else so people can't say that

I hope he knows he’s doing great just how he is </3

“The chances of finding ourselves home again

Of finding ourselves in the same way”

Sunoo

Where’d all the time go? - dr. dog

“There’s nothing to keep you

From falling in love”

Sunoo is a very loving person by nature

He probably trusts too quickly

But he somehow always ends up trusting the right people

Sunoo is able to make people feel comfortable

Without even trying

Like you can see how the other members are so whipped for him

He will breathe and they all go

“Omg sunoo you are so cute”

Sunoo makes deep connections with the people he is around

While I think he enjoys the positive attention he gets from being cute

He probably doesn’t really like getting babied….

Like to an extent it’s fine

But when he sees people being like “oh he's just a baby he won't understand”

He probably gets annoyed lolol cuz he wants to be seen as more than just cute

“You know I get so forgetful

When I look in your eyes”

Jungwon

Johnny boy - twenty one pilots

“Get up ‘cause the world

Has left you lying on the ground”

You get it? Cuz his english name is johnny?

Anyways

Jungwon has been underestimated as a leader just because he is young

This is probably veryyyyy annoying for him

He definitely gives someone a side eye if they mention his age when talking about how he is the leader

He is also overlooked in general because he is younger

When jungwon was in i-land, everyone kinda just….

Ignored his talents? Almost?

Like in the bts test he wasn’t seen as a rival

He sometimes feels like the world just disregards him

Jungwon probably acts more mature so people don’t comment on his age or ability to lead as much

But he forgets that sometimes he just needs to be a kid

Out of all the enhypen members, I think he is the most secretive

In the sense that you can’t read him as easily as the others

He is very good at hiding what he thinks and feels

“No one really knows his mind

And no one knows behind his eyes”

Niki

Last words of a shooting star - mitski

“I always wanted to die clean and pretty

But I'd be too busy on working days”

Niki works himself to death

He strives for nothing less than perfection and is extremely hard on himself

He scolds himself for making a mistake as if he just committed a war crime

Niki often tells himself harsh things, claiming they are “truths” or “realities”

But they are actually just him being way too hard on himself

He can never be good enough by his own standards

And it is eating him alive

You guys saw that recent -note right? He doesn’t see his own progress

Niki can’t recognize his growth and development because he only focuses on what he can improve on

And while wanting to improve is a good thing, I think niki takes it too far to where it is going to harm him if it hasn’t already

Niki is another member who was forced to mature wayyy too quickly

People tend to forget that he is just a kid, and even in i-land they didn’t treat him like one

Others in i-land saw his talent in dancing and viewed him as a rival instead of a child, who was still growing and easily affected by his surroundings

Niki needs to be able to act like a kid and laugh and do childish things while he still can

I think heeseung and jake help him remember that and I’m glad they remind him that it’s okay to mess around and have fun

“Til you cry all night you’ll never understand

Til you learn to love you’ll never learn to dance

Til you think too much you’ll never grow up

Til you learn to talk and you never shut up”

 ^ Ramblings of a dying adolescent - current joys (bonus lyrics for niki)

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

Lovesickness

(My rewrite of Lovesick Dead. The original work was written and illustrated by Junji Ito. I'm not claiming anything from my writing to be an original idea.)

Category: M/M Love Interest: The Crossroad's Pretty Boy Warning: blood and gore, mention of suicide, non canon-compliant, slow burn, no proofreading we all must suffer like Junji Ito's protagonists Word: 750+

Legend said that the first person to pass by you at a crossroads could tell you your fortune.

The first I heard of it, I was so young, but even then, I didn't believe it as anything more than a fictitious tale believed to be true. A housewives’ tale, if you will.

Some might wonder then why an ardent disbeliever such as myself, suddenly believes in it.

I'll tell you why.

Right from the very beginning down to its macabre end.

⸸

I don't have many memories of my past. But the ones I do remember, they lingered in my mind like fog on a dreary day.

And a dreary day that was.

"Little boy."

I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard her. It was a voice so rasp, I thought I had mistaken the rustling of leaves in the wind for the whisper of a ghost. But when I finally saw her peeking from behind the corner, I began to wonder then if she really was a ghost.

"Little boy, would you be so kind as to tell me my fortune?"

Terrified, I could only stand still as she walked closer. This near, she easily loomed over me, but she was no tall person by any means. Rather, it was her presence. There must have been a sickness to her to make her sallow skin such an unearthly shade of brown. I looked down if only to avoid her feverish gaze, but that only subjected me to seeing her bulging belly. It looked so grotesquely swollen on her emaciated body as it stretched the fabric of her white dress thin.

I remember taking a step back in horror. Though it is a blur in my memory now, I swear I remember there being green and silver lines marbling her skin.

"As you can see, I am with a child." By dint of showing, she ran a hand down her tummy. "I love the father so much. So, so much. I would die for him. I would hurt for him. There is nothing in this world I wouldn't do to prove my love. But..."

"There is another woman. And her child. But I don't believe he loves them for even a second! Otherwise, why would he have done such a thing to me? Come look! Feel!"

That was when she grabbed my wrist and placed my palm on her belly with a force that shouldn't be natural from a woman so frail like her.

"You can feel it, can't you? The proof of his love? You can feel our child within me, yes?"

I kicked and struggled to get her hand off me. But her bone-thin fingers only clenched harder, deeper into the flesh of my wrist. I cried out; "What are you even talking about?"

Genuinely, I was confused. Being the little child that I was, I understood nothing she spoke of. A child? With what might have been a married man?

But more than confused, I was frightened—no, deeply terrified of the woman with the swollen belly and vice-like grip.

"Then, let me make it much simpler for you, boy. Will he and I live happily ever after...or not?"

Before I write my answer, I must explain first that it was said in the spur of the moment. Had I been older, more experienced, more compassionate about this woman's deteriorated mind and the precarious situation she found herself in, I would have done my best to prevent the tragedies that would follow after.

But as it was, I was only a six-year-old boy, confused and afraid. By now, I had accepted that I couldn’t possibly have the answer to such a heavily loaded question.

"No!”

With all my might, I was able to free myself of her hold. Still, I continued to snarl even though I could see the first cracks in the dam holding her up.

“Are you stupid? No one would love a crazy woman like you! No one!"

And just like that, I ran away, never bothering to look back.

The very next day, I came back to find police officers. Yellow tape that read ‘DO NOT CROSS’ closed off the area of the crossroad where I last saw her, in the same white dress. Except now, it was stained red from the blood that gushed out of her slit throat.

The perpetrator?

Only herself and her little box cutter.

⸸

From that moment on, something was born.

An entity that knows no love, rejects it even, yet craves it as though starved.

I sometimes wonder if there was a chance I could have met him earlier. By the time he had let himself be known, it was years after I returned.

It was almost as if he had been waiting for me.

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

This is the first part of my Lovesickness fanfic. New year, new me, and that includes the many prompts I want to write.

So, uhm...Happy belated new years!

[leggerefiore]

cw: Galvantula Emmet

~

The Galvantula hybrid was down-right fascinated as he observed your body with his eyes. You stood in front of him completely bare as you changed your clothes. Your bodies weren't so different in the torso area, he supposed. His skin was more like yours in that area, yet tougher than your fragile human one. It had gone through years of survival in Chargestone cave, dealing with scratches and cuts from the terrain and attacking pokemon. Yours, however, was softer. It was a favourite thing of his to feel during the times you just let him engage in his odd behaviours. (This was common, he refused to admit. Mostly due to the fact he preferred to leave you in his cocoon, and you usually denied that.)

Your legs… They were entirely different from his. Your organs remained solely in your torso, his spread into his lower Galvantula half. You only had two legs, but he had four. If you lost yours, they would be gone forever, unlike his that would return after a molt. You lacked many of the extra features he had, too. Many of which Ingo also shared, despite his body more resembling yours over Emmet's own. He hummed as you fully dressed yourself and turned to him. You lacked the many eyes that Emmet had, too. Six eyes sat on his face and mandibles near his lips.

You were so different from him, yet you managed to love him.

He was lucky as well. Many bug-type hybrids do not have an easy time existing as of just how unalike the biology of humans and bugs were. Ingo often complained about his useless organs from his spider heritage, but Emmet found that foolish, as they helped him live with ease. Once, a hybrid doctor that his older brother had dragged him to noted that he was the perfect scenario for any Galvantula hybrid to be. All his organs worked in a healthy function with one another, and he thrived. Meanwhile, Ingo had a useless spider-heart that ran down the length of his torso and gave him odd blood pressure.

“Humans are verrrry weak, are they not?” he wondered aloud as you crashed against the bed that you brought into his den. Rolling over, you gazed at Emmet, who had taken to a perch on web just above.

“… You live in a cave for a reason, Em,” you shook your head, “Humans are terrifying when they are united for something.”

“I live here because I like my den,” the arachnid retaliated and came down from the web to rest beside you. You yawned and buried your face into the yellow fur on his lower body. It was warm and the soft pulsing of his heart was just under your ear.

“Maybe so, but if you wanted to live with Ingo, you couldn't,” you argued back lightly.

“… Ingo is as much a Galvantula hybrid as I am, yet he is accepted,” Emmet commented, “Ingo's body resembles yours. Why are humans afraid?” You did not know yourself, as you were not exactly the person afraid of hybrids. Rather, you were attracted to them, lest you would not currently be cuddling one that was your boyfriend. He did have a point. Ingo may have four eyes and some removed extra appendages, but he was certainly quite human in appearance and behaviour. Emmet was more wild in comparison to him, leaning more into his instincts rather than human social standards.

“Well, you do have more power than us,” you decided to guess, “Humans probably fear you from a time when our species did not get along.”

“Hybrids usually take humans as mates,” he argued back as he flipped over to let you rest on his tummy. His head laid against your pillow as you cocooned the web blanket around yourself. That was true, you knew. A lot of humans skewed human in preference when their pokemon biology dictated awkward situations for them. Needless to say, most male Galvantula hybrids settled on a human mate for one reason or another.

“What's got you so interested in this, Emmy?” you asked, curious about why this was on his mind at all.

“We're so different. Your body is soft and fleshy while mine is fuzzy and tough,” Emmet admitted without hesitation, “I… find these differences neat. We are similar, yet different.” A hum came from you as you nuzzled against his fur. He was just so warm all the time due to the electricity flowing in his system.

“I like that,” you smiled at him, “Our differences are fun and interesting. I think it's cute that you have to basically digest your food outside of your body or spend hours redoing your webs just right… You're fascinating.”

Emmet felt flustered for a moment, but before he could speak again, you had drifted off against him. He supposed the discussion could continue later.

He loved your differences, too.

[soft-for-them]

I cherish such dances - Laena Velaryon x plus size reader

Summary: You always used to dance with Laena when you were little now you're grown you wish to dance with her once more.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/n: Written for a plus size reader but any femme presenting or female reader can really read it, this is just some self indulgent stuff for me.

No one had promised a dance with you before the music had begun nor had anyone asked you upright to dance all night, well no one apart from a distant cousin who was forced by his mother to do so for she was trying to set him up with you or one of your sisters, but apart from that no one at all even came your way.

You assume the worst thing first, that people don’t want to dance with you because of what you look like. The high waistline of the dress accentuates your chest but it makes you self-conscious about your round tummy, at least the big virago sleeves long and puffy that go down to your wrist cover the chubbiness of your upper arms, the combination of the big sleeves and high waist giving you a rather princess look.

The dress long and flowing is a light red, not a blood red or a dark marron like some of the other women wear but a red that evokes warmth. The embroidered flower patterns of reds and yellows took forever to sew on and you were worried that you wouldn’t finish the dress for tonight festivities.

Accents of gold shine on the trims hiding the fact that your family can’t afford to give you, one of their many children, actual gold jewellery. Though you don’t really care for the gaudy big pieces of gold and diamond like your grandmother wears around her wrinkled neck, though you do wish to own one more necklaces than you do for you only own this one plain necklace.

Around your neck lays the simple locket of your house’s emblem, along with a yellow stone that once belonged to you mother. The emblem is worn by all your family one way or another, some wear it on their belts others have sewn it on their dresses, you’re stuck with a hand me down necklace that is just a bit too small for your neck for it was made for a child (even so it was too big for kid you).

Along with the chain you wear the tiniest cream pearl studs with a matching chunky hair clip with small pearl details holding your up-do in place.

To think when the evening was just beginning you were too happy and amped to be invited and now you just feel dejected and alone.

You sit straight as you look out at the lines of couples dancing to the jolly folk tunes, families cast off to the side idly chatting whilst young children play way past their bedtimes. You feel like you’re being mocked by all the smiling faces in the large room filled with royalty and rich people alike.

“I’m feeling a bit tired.” You say to your chaperone and distant aunt, an older woman with greying hair filled with decorative hair pins and a cluster of sons to marry off to more rich houses.

“Aren’t we all child.” She says with a huff as her eyes trail to her four sons all tripping over their toes as they dance, their posture absolutely horrid and their wooing skills even more so.

All evening you have been the golden child in the eyes of you unsavoury extended family for all you siblings have either been married already or they are off fucking people ���lower than them’ for any respect from the family. Then there’s all you cousins who are either too naïve or too idiotic to impress people with their social skills.

No, you the normally despised younger sister is the good person for tonight because you’re sat up straight, talking to everyone to try and pass the time and wearing a nice dress.

“If only someone would open their eyes and dance with you, then our family wouldn’t be such a laughing stock.” You aunt says as she visibly cringes at her eldest son trips over his dance partner’s dress.

Normally you’re the fat one of the family. The shy one. The one who is mostly forgotten but as all your single relatives get drunk of red wine, making messes of themselves, you the nervous and disappointed one is the good child.

“If only.” You sigh as your eyes wonder the room.

King Viserys Targaryen sits happily on his throne with his wife by his side, she looks rather unpleased but that doesn’t sour the mood. Princess Rhaenyra dances with her uncle Prince Daemon their hands wondering and their face way too close but then again they are Targaryens, so the idea of the two married people falling in love with one another despite being uncle and niece isn’t the oddest thing to happen.

And then there’s her.

Standing to the side with her two young daughters, she looks a thing of beauty. Her curly white hair is loosely held up on her head making it look like she has a halo and her dress a seafoam blue curves around her body like the crashing waves of the sea. All is held together by pretty gold and opal jewellery and such a sincere smile.

Oh, have you harboured a deep love for Laena Velaryon for so long.

You were just a small chubby child, not yet able to link words into sentences without messing up, when you first saw her. She was merely a child too, so short and most curly hair, always stuck by her brother’s side. Your house is small house but it’s one that lays by the sea, you family’s fleet of ships aided the Velaryon’s so there was always times when you saw her and somehow that childish crush turned into full blown admiration and love.

If you were a man you would become a knight to protect her, you’d give up all you ever had to sever her and only her, hell you’d do it now if she asked you too.

It might be a silly thing to be so infatuated with her, especially when she’s married, but there are some feelings that you can never get rid of and one of them is your love for her. That and you refuse to become jaded and miserable like Ser Criston Cole, such a vile man.

As your mind wonders and your eyes unfocused, the song comes to an end and the dancers pause to breathe and to find new partners to dance with.

“Lady (L/n).” a child’s voice says.

“Huh!” you head juts to the side towards the person speaking only to have to look down at Rhaena Targaryen all dressed in blue and gold.

Rhaena must be about five or six years old, despite her dress being tailored to her size it seem to drown her, only little hands poking out from the straight embroidered sleeves.

“Hello.” You say in the typical adult talking to a child voice, “Do you need anything, are you lost?”

You worry for such small child up so late, her father drooling over his niece and her mother now nowhere to be found.

“No, but I did come over here to ask you something.” she smiles a bright smile.

“Oh! Is it a secret, I’m good at keeping secrets.” you have too many younger half siblings to count so you’re used to entertaining children.

Rhaena nods her head making her earrings jingle her small hand grabbing you bigger ones.

She drags you up, well tries as children do, and you follow. Your small black shoes clip clop on the stone floor as she weaves through much taller people little apologies flowing through your lips as the little girl giggles as she tugs at your hand.

With one last tug to your hand, her bright brown eyes look up to you as you halt to a stop.

She smiles and says “Here!”

You look up and around to see that she’s dragged you out of the ball room into a corridor only lit by torches and moonlight. For a moment your eyebrows knit together and your eyes land on a guard standing near by but then you spot two pools of water like fabric flowing down the hallway.

Pausing like a deer in headlights, hand still being tugged by Rhaena, you stare at Laena as she gets dragged by Baela, the older of the siblings talking to her mother as she drags her closer to you.

Baela, with the help of her sister, had convinced her mother to step away from the festivities for the young girl had seen you dreamily staring at her mother with longing heart eyes. All it took was telling her mother that she was scared to go to the bathroom on her own and there, she easily got her little sister to drag you out to the corridor for her plan.

“(Y/n) (L/n)!” Laena utters with the same bright smile both her daughters wear, “I would say ‘funny seeing you here’ but I assume it isn’t.”

She playfully scolds her children as she stops close to you, her dress swishing into yours, the heat in your cheeks like a roaring fire.

“Laena- I- Rhaena was showing me something.”

“Was she now?” she looks at her youngest with questioning eyes her next words aimed at her, “And why was that?”

“A dance mummy!” Rhaena happily cheers.

“Rhaena! It was surprise!” Baela whines as the so called plan is revealed, “We wanted you to dance with (Y/n) mummy.”

“Yeah, Baela said she saw you looking at (Y/n) and she hasn’t danced yet so, yeah.”

Laena guides her daughters back to the archway leading back into the ballroom her voice hushed as she talks to the two girls.

You freeze in place as Laena hands her daughters off to their grandmother, then she walks back into the cool empty hallway back towards you.

“I’m sorry- I-“ you begin not knowing why you’re really apologising.

“Sorry for what, I’ve been meaning to dance with you all night.”

It’s true, Laena hasn’t seen your face in years and upon seeing you sat still and not up moving like she’s used to seeing well, it made her feel off. Yes, you aren’t the same chubby child spinning around the dance floor in a jolly jig, you’re an adult looking to wed but seeing you so frozen in place made her decide to ask you to dance.

Though she hasn’t gotten to do that yet and her daughter caught onto it quite quickly thus leading to this.

“What…?”

Laena steps closer.

“Remember when we were little and you’d run up to me and ask me to dance.”

You remember those times fondly.

“I was but a child-“ you whisper with wide eyes.

“-and a child who always made me so happy at such tiring dances. The last time we danced I was twelve and my parents were trying to set me up with the king.”

You must have been seven or eight in a green gown like the colour of the warm ocean, the house necklace around your neck then too long and your hair too short to properly plat. You mother had told you not ignore the king when you were at the dinner he’d invited your family too but knowing he might marry your dear Laena, and being a petty child, you ignored him non the less which entertained him even more.

“You were so sad, I saw it but no one else did.” your eyes connect with Laena’s as you speak.

“Yes, that’s why I cherish such dances, that’s why I ask you now to dance with me.” Laena raise your hand in hers and kisses your knuckles, “I cannot stand seeing you so sad and still at such lively event, it’s not of the person I remember.”

“I’m a woman now Laena.”

“A beautiful one at that.” her lips linger on you knuckles, “Dance with me, please.”

"Yes, we shall dance."

.

.

.

A/N: This is like the second fic that is gay and about asking someone to dance dghgfdsdfg, I might do a part two to this.

[spoofyleaf]

Spoofy, would you happen to have any musical songs about someone having to come to terms with their worst fear? For no reason at all

Nooot exactly, but I do have some songs that may fit the vibe/ can be spun into fitting the fitting the senario?

The milk carton- madilyn Mae

Not what I meant- dodie

Little lion man- Mumford & sons

Tummy in the blood- the yellow dress

The absolute best thing- Joshua bond

Painkillers- rainbow kitten suprise

The tornado- owl city

Shit in a bottle

Against the kitchen floor- will wood

It’s alright- mother mother

[copepods]

tummy in the blood by the yellow dress is ccrimeboys i think

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 523, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

WORDS: 1158

I woke up the next morning to find that the Ratajczyk bedbugs had come in at some point to infest the bed. Peter was spooning me in his chest, his face squished into the back of my neck as he breathed easily, his arms wrapped around me, snugging me in tightly to him with a hand pressed to my heavily popped out tummy. Elizabeth and Katie both flanked Baby Tommy, the three kids with their respective dolls- Elle, Jing and Baby Tommy’s little unnamed dollie friend- sprawled all about the bed. Mittens and Primrose were sleeping, the motherly cat against the triplets and Primrose tucked in next to Baby Tommy with her little skunklet nose tucked underneath her tail.

I smiled at the open door policy that my husband and I had in place. If the door was shut, then we weren’t to be disturbed. If the door was open, the kids could come inside and keep us company. And boy, did they take full advantage of our rule- sneaking in for early morning snuggles was the main reason, I felt.

I was currently at that stage of my pregnancy where all I wanted was to be fucked into oblivion by my husband’s thick meat, him kissing me all over my befreckled face as he waited for me to come back down again before performing a quick check in and then resuming his manly task.

Peter seemed amused by my frisky sex drive, sometime humoring me with a quickie before returning to whatever he was doing or gently turning me down in favor of tending to the kids. I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him as he easily divided his time between getting little girl’s nursery read for the Ratajczyk triplets, helping the girls out with their homework and giving Baby Tommy and Baby Eve skin on skin.

People were overjoyed at the family update that I posted to Instagram- a green and white onesie and the name Matthew Oliver Ratajczyk- Baby Mattie, a green and blue onesie and the name Brandon Edward Ratajczyk- Baby Teddy and a pink and white onesie and the name Josephine Rose Ratajczyk- Baby Jojo. The final picture was a picture of the ultrasound with the boys nestled around Baby Jojo.

People went nuts.

I had set up an Amazon wish list for diapers, crib pads, bottle liners and other such things, all things that we would go through like tissues and would need a healthy supply of. I felt as though people should feel like they were attributing to the family, and the wish list was quickly emptied two hours after I had announced its existence.

Peter had spent most of the next few weeks reading up on Spina Bifida babies and had also discovered a small business on Etsy that made soft bedsheets for people with stim issues and he had purchased three sets of crib sized bedsheets- one in yellow, one in white and one in green. He had washed the bedsheets in gentle unscented detergent before dressing her bed and folding the other bedsheets and setting them into the closet for now.

The babies’ cribs were hand carved with love and care, each one with a different character decorating the headboard- Pooh Bear and Piglet, Kanga and Roo and Owl and Rabbit.

He had touched up the paint on the walls and sanded down the rough spots on the furniture that had originally been for little girl. He also disassembled the crib that James and Aaron had thoughtfully purchased for our usage and had stashed it in the garage for now while he had vacuumed the rug and steam mopped the hardwood floor, bringing up at least three years of grit and grime. He tossed the plush toys into the washing machine and effortlessly restored them back to their former glory. He finished up by hanging a sign with the Ratajczyk triplets’ names onto the door, proudly identifying the Hundred Acre Woods as the babies’ shared bedroom.

I hadn’t been downstairs since Valentines Day, and due to how uncomfortable I always was, I was mostly confined to the master bedroom, happily amused by knitting, crocheting, working on my latest book, doing gentle pregnancy yoga or anything else that held my attention for more than three minutes. I trusted the kids and Peter to keep the downstairs at least presentable and tidy, and in exchange for me staying up in my tower, a regular supply of blueberries would be bought up to feed the great mommy dragon that I was.

From time to time, Isabelle would seek me out to ease her itch. I had happily pleasured her to the best of my pregnant ability, loving her willingness to engage in sweet kisses and sensual cuddles or an impromptu threesome with Peter fucking her at the foot of the bed while she ate me out.

Peter seemed to pick up on how horny I was as of lately, and loved having me ride him in cowgirl, our hands clasped lovingly together lovingly as we locked eyes with one another, shooting off higher, higher, higher-

I would always come to in the tub, warm water flowing from the facet and Peter on his knees with my washcloth in hand, smiling gently at me as he soaped me up before rinsing the soapy suds from my sweat streaked body.

“I can’t wait to meet you three,” I murmured in a soft voice one night when Peter had tugged my back flush against his chest, me having packed pillows into my front, wedging me in place. “Mommy can’t wait to meet her babies.”

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