#Crackly brain not fun

[solazu1]

“Do you remember anything at all?”

I don't see enough people bring up much about Jay’s whole state of being after the events of 72 and like the whole entirety of 74. Or maybe they have and I forgot, I dunno

#I tried to throw in symbolism for physical symptoms he was probably experiencing at the time as well #Like I know he's been recovering for 2 months after entry 72 but that does not stop his body from hurting #Crackly brain not fun #marble hornets #jay merrick #Also in general I think his bones would hurt

[torialefay]

comments and thoughts on the channie content from today's jpn fanmeet?

He’s been so into his “cutie boy” era and I’m honestly here for it. And ofc I love his curly hair the most, but I am really liking the straightened hairstyle he’s had over the last little bit. It actually has been feeding my delusions bc remember him talking about how he’d love to wear his hair out more, but he just doesn’t know how to style it? Well I could figure out the curly routine, but his straightened style??? Easy. Like lemme do it for you baby 🥺 Plus the video of him almost kissing Binnie’s hand ughhhhh

Because imagine having a lazy morning with Channie & you end up doing his hair 🥺🫶🏼

The two of you had stayed up late playing games, drinking, telling stories, and talking into the darkest hours of the night.

When you’d woken up in the morning, the sun was peaking through the back of the blackout curtains in Chan’s bedroom. Your movements woke him up as well.

“Morning baby,” he’d whispered sweetly in his crackly morning voice before reaching his arms around you to pull you in closer to him. You’d let your head rest in his chest as he nuzzled his chin onto your forehead with a smile.

“Good morning,” you’d tried to say back, the words getting lost in the barrier of his bare skin. Your brain was still foggy, but your heart was content beating next to his.

“What do you wanna do today?” he’d mumbled, squeezing you a bit harder before resting with you in an even tighter embrace.

“This,” you smiled, planting a soft kiss to the skin in the middle of his chest.

“Mmm good,” he whispered, moving one hand to hold taut to the area between your lower back and your ass. “Back to bed, angel,” he managed to get out while grinning to himself.

A few hours later, once you’d both began to stir, Chan checked his phone, scrolling through the notifications, one after one. He’d absentmindedly opened TikTok to start watching videos with you. It’s something you’d done time and time again. Chan’s algorithm was different than yours to say the least. Random gaming videos, sports reels, music stuff, etc. The one thing you had in common on the platform was recommended STAY edits. And every time Chan skipped a sexy edit of himself, you pouted until he went back and let you watch it. Of course you had to tease him a bit afterwards, rubbing your hand up and down his torso. “Look at my fine mannn,” you’d teased, pulling back with a big smile on your face.

“Hush,” Chan rolled his eyes, lazily grinning before pulling you back to him so you couldn’t say another word.

Later, he’d received a text from Felix saying that a few of the boys wanted to check out a new gallery that had opened up about an hour away. He’d asked if you and Chan would like to go.

“I’m more than content with just laying here with you, baby,” Chan said, leaving the decision up to you.

“I am too… But it could be fun if you wanna go,” you looked at him with big eyes, excited that you’d been included in the plans.

“We’d better get ready then,” he’d said before stretching his arms out above his head. “I think they’re wanting to leave in a little over an hour.”

45 minutes later, and you were finishing your makep as you saw Chris walk out of the bathroom toward his closet, wearing only his shorts. You watched the outline of his back from your makeup mirror as he sorted through shirts before pulling one over his head and down his torso. He grabbed a beanie from the shelf and chucked it on as well. The way his muscles flexed as they were reaching up was a sight you’d never get over. After giving himself a one-over in his long mirror, he walked behind you and plopped onto the bed, waiting for you to be ready.

One final brush stroke of mascara and you were done. You turned in your chair to face your boyfriend. “Your hair is so cute baby. Why don’t you wear it out today?”

Chan blushed a bit before looking down. He always got like this when the hair conversation came up.

“You know I don’t know how to style my hair,” his voice went up as he spoke, still feeling shy. “It’s got a mind of it’s own right now… And every other day as well.”

“Well lucky for youuu-“ you dragged out as you stood and walked to stand in front of your boyfriend. “I can do it for you! Please please pleaseeee,” you plead, grabbing his hands to squeeze them.

He giggled, giving into you waving his hands up and down. “Okay, okay, you can give it a go. I trust you to do me right, yeah?” he joked.

Your whole face perked up at his agreeance, giving a couple of quick claps before running into the bathroom. You sorted through your things before returning to the bed where he was sat.

“Okay SO, there’s good news and bad news. Bad news is that I only have stuff to straighten hair. Good news is we can go buy some curly hair products once we get done with the boys!” you said excitedly, reveling in your new-found service. “We’re gonna curly girl method you! I’ve always wanted to try it!”

“You’re gonna do what to me?” Chan asked, half laughing but half squinting his eyes in confusion.

“You’ll see.” You walked to the bed to grab a pillow and set it in the floor just between the bed and your makeup table.

“Alright baby,” you said as you plugged your straightener into the outlet, “you sit on the pillow and I’ll get you all squared away.”

Chan did as he was told and shimmied down to sit cross-legged on the pillow. As you situated yourself into the bed behind him, you instructed him to lean back into you, wrapping your legs around him in the process. “Gotta hold you still for good measure,” you grinned.

After peeling Chan’s beanie off, you gave his scalp a quick rub, earning a light moan in response. You took your time combing through his hair, adding some heat protection and a silkening gloss before running the styling tool through it. You made sure you were on the lowest heat setting and were as gentle as you could be. You didn’t want to throw his natural pattern too far off.

Once you’d finished, you made sure to add some holding spray to make sure it would last him the day. “Alright, final check,” you said, swooping your feet out and turning them so you could land in front of him. You let yourself fall down to your knees so that you were straddling his lap. “Okay now look at me,” you instructed. Without really giving him time to cooperate, you placed your hands at his jaw to tilt his head up to eye level with you.

“Perfect,” you smiled, admiring how handsome he looked with his hair on display. “Now tell me-“ you strained as you reached backward to grab a mirror off of your table. “If there’s anything you want me to change,” you said, holding the mirror out to Chan.

He took it carefully before bringing it to his head. He swerved it around, making sure to check every angle. “Wow,” he smiled before lowering the mirror, “you did a good job, babe. It looks really good. Thank you,” he said sweetly before reaching out to grab your hand. He held it so softly, so tenderly before holding it up in front of his lips. He pressed a small kiss onto the back of your hand as he watched you, thanking you again silently with his eyes.

The gesture put a wide grin on your face. You squeezed onto his hand again before leaning into a hug. “You don’t need to thank me, I’d do it any day. But next time…” you said, pulling back, “we’re leaving your curls, okay?” You lightly scratched the back of his neck.

A little smile spread across him. “If you think you can manage it.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it by the time I’m done with you,” you teased.

Chan wrapped one arm around your waist, letting the other hand trail down to rest on your ass. He held tightly as he pulled you closer on his lap. “I like the sound of that.”

#bangchan fluff #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz soft thoughts #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan soft thoughts

[d10nyx]

lacerated to the bone

ft. danny johnson as ghostface x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, masked men, stalking, photography, heavy dub-con, knife play, coercion, choking, blood, threats, predator/prey play, fear play, major character death, p in v, creampie

a/n: requested by anon! hope it lives up to the idea you had, bcs i had so much fun writing this one !! title from 'a life less ordinary(need a little help)' by motion city soundtrack

word count: 2.1k words

“Come on… come on.” You say under your breath as you work at the generator, your heart rabbiting in your chest. You're looking over your shoulder every few seconds, trying to make sure that the killer isn't on your trail. You did your best to save the others from the entity, but you'd failed. You were all alone now. You had to survive.

You can't shake the feeling that he's watching you. There's an eerie silence around you, the only sounds coming from the generator you're working on. The final one. You let out a deep breath as you look away again, but your fingers falter, and the sounds of the generator failing echo throughout the forest.

“No, no, no…” You say quickly, perking up to examine your surroundings, hoping that you hadn't alerted the killer. You curl up behind the generator, waiting for a few moments as you try to listen out for any movement. The minutes that stretch by feel like hours, but there's no sign of him.

You let out a deep breath, standing up before you lean over to work on the generator again. Before you can get started, you feel a finger tap your shoulder. You turn around quickly, coming face to face with a camera. You hear the click of the shutter, and then a bright light flashes that ends up blinding you for a few seconds.

You blink rapidly to clear the spots from your vision, stumbling back. You knew who it was. It could only be one person. You needed to get out of here, and fast. When your vision finally refocuses, you're left face to face with Ghostface. The mask tilts to the side as he cocks his head, his voice husky and slightly crackly from the vocal modulator as he speaks.

“Boo.”

You're running before your brain can even register the movement. You do your best to escape, weaving through dilapidated structures to try and lose him. At every chance you got, you sent wooden palettes tumbling in narrow spaces, keeping a mental note of where you'd cut off the path, hoping to slow him down.

At this point, the chase had become a matter of stamina rather than technique. It was clear the killer wasn't going to let you go, barely letting you out of his sight for more than a few seconds before he was on your tail again. You knew better than to hide, but you were running out of options. Your breathing was becoming laboured, and your legs burned from the chase. You knew you didn't have much of a chance - he was stronger, faster and smarter than you.

It was all down to luck. Your eyes flick over the treeline rapidly - it's a bit far out from the generators and the exit, but it was your best chance of staying concealed. The feeling of being watched irks you once again, causing you to stop and try to find the source.

It's quiet. Too quiet. All you can hear is the sounds of your own breathing. For a moment, you almost feel like you've lost him. That is until you hear a sound that's becoming far too familiar for your liking.

Click!

You turn to try and run again, but a gloved hand wraps around your ankle, yanking you into the underbrush. You cry out as the branches scratch the skin that's exposed as he drags you towards him.

“An image is worth a thousand words, don't you think?” A voice echoes from behind the mask, his free hand shifting to press down on your chest to keep you flat on the ground as he pins your legs down with his knees. With his other hand, he snaps a few pictures of your fearful expression with a beaten down looking film camera.

“Can't wait to get these developed… add them to the collection.” He adds after a moment, placing it down carefully so he can reach for the knife he had tucked in his belt. “I think I like this look on you…”

“Please…” You croak out weakly, your voice wavering as he trails the tip of the blade down your cheek and along your jawbone. “Please, don't.”

“Oh? Already begging for your life?” He coos, patting the flat of the blade against your cheek a few times. He presses the tip of the knife against your cheek, placing just enough pressure to nick the skin. “You're in luck. See, I don't normally play with my designs, but…”

He slides the tip of the knife down your skin, applying pressure when it reaches the hollow of your throat. The mask tilts down, and you can almost sense the sick satisfaction from him as he watches your blood trickle out with every panicked breath you make.

“Well, you're different. I've been watching you for a while. I wanted this to be special; the kind of headlines that people don't forget.” He leans down slightly, and you can feel his gaze boring through you despite the mask obscuring his features.

“Anyway, look at me getting all sidetracked. You poor thing, you keep shaking. I hope that's not on account of me?” He mocks, holding the knife to your throat to keep you from making any attempts to escape. “My apologies. I've always been one for a good story. And you, my dear? I feel you'll be my best one yet. I have a… proposition for you.”

“Please, just stop. I won't say anything… I swear! Just let me go I… I was so close, please!” You sob, raising your hands to try and push him off of you, as if that'd do any good. You wriggle underneath him, ring to give yourself a chance to break free and escape his grasp.

“You see, I'd love to do that. Really, I would. There's just one small issue.” With that, he loosely nods his head towards one of the hooks not far from you. “See, I could let you go, but that wouldn't be in my best interests… now, if you want to make it worth my while…”

He trails off, dropping his head down so his mask is looming directly over your face. He presses the knife down harder, drawing blood as the sharp edge digs into the skin of your throat. “Either you give me what I want, or I'll gut you and offer you up to the Entity. It's simple, really.”

Your stomach sinks at his words. There's no mistaking his intentions. The mask is tilted towards you expectantly as the knife against your throat is replaced by his tight grip. He trails his blade down, hiking your skirt up with the tip of it.

You nod. What other choice did you have? It was this, or die. You couldn't die here. You won't.

“There we go. Good girl.” He says as he removes his grip on your throat to pat your cheek, slipping the knife in between the top of your thigh and the edge of your panties. You tense as he pulls the fabric taut with the blade until it splits. You shiver as the cold metal brushes right above your folds, sliding the fabric out of the way to expose you to his greedy eyes.

You squirm underneath him as he runs the flat of his blade downwards, trying not to jerk your hips as he brushes past your clit, a small whimper falling from your lips. He smacks the blade down a few times, landing spanks against your pussy until sticky strings of arousal connect you to his knife.

“Filthy little thing.” He hums, pulling his knife away to drag a gloved finger between your folds. “Making such a mess. To think, I was planning to wet my knife in a very different way.”

You watch with a mix of arousal and horror as he shucks off the cloak, exposing the black jeans and t-shirt he wore underneath. He keeps that mask on. Seems to enjoy the way you shiver whenever your eyes land on it. He manages to unbuckle his belt one-handed with little struggle, the clink of the metal echoing in the air for a few moments.

He drops the knife down to free his cock and hold it in his right hand. His left hand slides its way up your body, squeezing one of your tits before his hand trails higher, gripping your throat once more. Just to be safe. He smacks his tip against your clit a few times, clearly enjoying the way it has you jolting. Your cunt gushes as he ruts against your sensitive nub, drawing a moan from your lips.

He slides his cock down until the head catches your hole. With a grunt, he pushes forward, filling you to the brim. He throws his head back, his chest rising and falling visibly with his rapid breaths.

“Christ, doll. Didn't think you'd be this wet.” He hisses through gritted teeth. He drops his head forward again, watching your expression carefully through the mask. The tone of his voice sends heat pooling in your lower abdomen, air leaving you in a breathless sigh.

His thrusts are shallow and desperate. He barely pulls out before slamming back in, not wanting to leave the tight heat surrounding him longer than necessary. Each thrust brings a whimper from his lips. Hastily, he reaches a hand out to grab his camera, the one resting on your throat squeezing down just enough to have you gasping in a breath, your cunt clenching tighter around his cock.

“Oh!” He moans, his hand shaking as he snaps a few pictures of his cock sliding in and out of you, the length coated in a layer of clear slick. “God, that's so tight. You like it when I squeeze your throat, huh?”

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, slightly breathless. He tightens his grip on your throat a little more as he speeds up his thrusts, fucking into you with a more brutal pace, his cock bullying your cervix with every movement. Blood rushes to your head as he pounds the air out of you while leaving you unable to suck more air in due to him choking you. You start to get light headed, your vision growing spotty and blurry with unshed tears. As your eyelids begin to flutter, he lets go and you're quickly sucking in deep breaths, your chest heaving.

“Ah, sorry, darling.” He forces out, sounding absolutely wrecked. He drops the camera to hold your hips in both of his hands, pulling you back on his cock with enough force that you're sure you'd be littered in finger shaped bruises. His balls slap against your ass with every heavy movement.

“Oh, can't wait to get these pictures all done. Gonna build a whole shrine for you, dolly. Such a pretty thing.” He reaches down to pinch and tug at your clit before rubbing circles into it with his thumb. He's too rough, and you're already so sensitive. Your body twitches, whines spilling from your lips as you cum, back arching and dragging along the dirt as you clench around his cock.

“W-wait… gotta… gotta get a picture, fuck.” He croaks, flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hair in one fist, yanking your head back painfully as he sinks his cock back into you, making you cry out. He snaps a couple of pictures of him buried deep inside of you, aiming the camera mostly at your fucked out, tear-stained face.

“Fuck… fuck. Coming…” He manages to choke out, the sensation of your walls squeezing him enough to milk his cock. He drops his head down to the crook of your neck, the material of the mask jarring your heated skin. “Shit.”

He drops the camera again, his hand fumbling with something in the thick brush. In the corner of your eye, you see a glint of metal in the moonlight, causing you to flail in panic, scratching at the ground and trying to fight him off.

“You promised!” You yell, trying to scramble out from underneath him as you realise what he’s about to do. “You said you'd let me go! Please… I did what you asked!”

Your eyes widen with fear - wet and panicked as he lifts the knife up, plunging it deep into the side of your neck. Blood bubbles up in your throat, making you cough and splutter as the excruciating pain shocks your core.

“Sorry, doll. Honest. I know I said I'd let you go, but, well…” He yanks the knife out, and your body convulses as you try desperately to suck breath into your failing lungs.

“A good story always needs a twist.”

#danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x you #dbd smut #danny johnson smut #jed olsen smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x y/n #ghostface smut #tw dark content #dark content #dub con #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut #dbd #dbd killer

[his-red-right-hand]

his red right hand, Chapter Six

“So, what’s your favourite scary movie?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. It was him. He found you. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry, your stomach doing an odd flipping thing that you’re pretty sure wasn’t related to your dinner. Wait, shit, he asked you a question. Scary movies, right.

“What kinda scary movies you talking about? Like, there’s lots of different types; and I got different favourites depending on the type. Like, do you want to know what slow creeping scary I like, or like monsters from beyond the stars and outside of comprehension scary? Do you mean gothic scary, where it’s building tension more and more until it all breaks at once, or lots of little jump scares to keep the popcorn flying? Are we just implying violence or is blood splattering everywhere? Or do you just mean masked men with knives chasing around after barely dressed girls?”

There was a pause, oh god you’d fucked it all up, stupid horror obsessed stoner brain; then a chuckle, dark and rich broke you from your spiralling thoughts. “I kinda like the sound of that last one. Maybe with the blood splattered everywhere to.” You could hear a soft rumble from him across the phone line. “You looked so pretty wearing yours.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, letting out a shaky breath as your mind flashed back to being there in that moment, the wall pressed into your back and him so closely against you as he made you bleed. “Are you going to come and kill me?”

“Not changed your mind about that? No brush with death to make life more worth living?”

“If anything it made me want it more.”

The voice changer made it a little crackly, but that was an undeniable groan from him. “You want me to break into your house, hold my knife up against your throat and make you beg me for it?”

“Yes.” Your knees started to shake as you pictured it, sinking down onto the arm of the couch for stability. “I’d do whatever you wanted me to. Anything. As long as you promised to kill me.”

“Not every day a man gets an offer like that. Makes me want to draw it out, have some fun... What if I came to you, someone else’s blood on my knife. Would you lick it off for me?”

You swallowed slowly, of course he would want to talk about the thing you’d been trying to avoid thinking about. Flirting with death was easy when he had been there; looming so large that the bodies he left faded from thought. But just because you were a willing victim didn’t mean that he had any others. You were talking to a serial killer, who had killed and was going to kill again. “I don’t-”

“Turn the light on.” He cut you off abruptly, and you jerked to your feet with a start.

“Why?”

“So I can see your face better while you think about it.”

He was watching, right now? How long had he been there?

“You want to stay on my good side, right? Turn on the light Sweetness.”

You were trembling, not sure if it was from fear or excitement or something else, walking over to the light switch, staring out your open back door as you flipped it. You flinched as you squeezed your eyes shut, the sudden brightness painful to them after becoming used to the dim half-light of the evening.

“Good girl.”

Warmth built inside you at those two words, a small part of your brain telling you that it was worth any moral event horizon to hear him call you that again. Fuck, you were too stoned for this.

“Now think about licking somebody else’s blood off my knife. Yeah, that’s it.” You could hear shutter clicks over the line. He was out there, and he was taking more photos of you, enjoying your struggling feelings.

“Why don’t you just come and kill me now?” you asked bluntly, wanting to change the subject.

“Just skip to the main event? But there’s so much foreplay to be enjoyed Doll. I’m having way too much fun to rush this. Don’t worry, you’re gonna enjoy it to.”

A sane person would hang up the phone right now. They would lock the back door, draw the curtains, and call the cops.

A sane person doesn’t want the killer on the line to mean it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A beat.

A breath.

You stared out into the night, where Death was watching you.

His voice crackled down the line, an almost playful note to it. “Lift up your shirt. I want to see it.”

You shifted the phone handset so it was propped against your ear by your shoulder, stepping towards the door as you used your hands to slowly gather up the fabric of your shirt, revealing the plain white bandage on your side.

“Take off the dressing.” He sounded strained, breaths coming faster.

You winced a little as you plucked the adhesive away from your skin, angling your body so he could see the plain row of stitches in your side. The bruising around it had mostly faded to a mottled yellowing now, the skin of the wound itself a light pink at the edges and around the stitches.

He hummed his approval before groaning out an “Oh yeah...” A few more clicks of the camera shutter. “I’m gonna cover you in such pretty marks Angel. You’re going to feel me for days. Not going to be able to look at yourself without seeing me there.”

You bit at your lip as you heard rustling, more groans, then a long breath of satisfaction. A high pitched keening laugh escaped despite yourself, maybe you weren’t stoned enough for this. Your knees decided to give out on you, sinking down into a heap on the carpet, and you just couldn’t stop laughing.

There was a growl, Ghostface’s voice a roiling threat of violence in your ear. “Is something funny?”

You dazedly shook your head, the handset clattering to the ground, which just made you laugh harder as you picked it back up with shaking hands. “N-no,” you gasped out, taking quick harsh breaths in between the peals of laughter that were starting to turn into sobs. “It’s Hellraiser.”

“What...?” The voice changer couldn’t hide the absolute confusion in his voice. Well, at least he was as lost as you were in this conversation.

“My favourite scary movie.” You swallowed back some tears, trying to get some vague control over your raging emotions. “It’s Hellraiser. You asked, so...” You felt like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane, everything you felt had been so dull and dead for so long that you didn’t know how to cope with the force of your emotions hitting you.

His sigh had a mechanical crackle to it, before asking bluntly “Did you smoke today?”

“Yeah...” you sniffled softly, you really were just the best at ruining everything, weren’t you?

“Get up off the floor, get a drink, eat something, and go to bed. We’ll continue this another night.”

“Promise you’ll come back?” You sounded so needy in that moment, feeling like the entirety of your vague connection to sanity hinged on his answer.

Ghostface chuckled, almost sounding fond. “Oh trust me Babe, you’re not getting rid of me.”

Dial tone echoed in your ear and you slowly lowered the phone down to the floor, hitting the end call button. You sat there for a moment, limbs splayed like a broken marionette. Slowly, slowly, getting onto your knees, pushing up onto your feet; swaying unsteadily  you stood. Instructions were easy. Something to cling to in the roiling mess of your brain.

Get a drink.

Eat something.

Go to bed.

Wandering into the kitchen, you put the phone back into the base on the half-wall between it and the lounge, then going to the sink. Taking a glass that had been languishing on the drying rack you filled it with water, drinking it down in long mouthfuls and tasting better than it had any right to. You had granola bars in your bag, left where you had dropped it on the table. Picking up the box, you ripped into it, pulling one out and undoing the wrapped with your teeth before biting into it. You needed to take your antibiotics, probably should replace the bandage to. You never thought your tendency to just leave everything in the kitchen would come in handy, but it was paying off for now at least.

Downing the pill was easy, swallowing down more water and finishing your granola bar before looking at the small pile of spare dressings you’d been sent home with. Your hands were still shaking a bit, but it wasn’t too hard to peel the backing off of it. You pressed it to your skin with a soft hiss of pain, pressure on your stitches fucking hurt, but it was clarifying.

You refilled your glass, heading towards your bedroom, hesitating at the coffee table for a moment, then leaning down and picking up the little container of sleeping pills you’d been given last time you’d gone to the doctor. It’d been for stomach flu, but he’d asked if you had any other problems and you’d been wrung out enough to mention your issues sleeping. And what couldn’t be fixed by a prescription pad these days?

You opened it and downed one quickly before you could regret it, taking a swig from your glass to chase it down, turning off the main light before heading into your bedroom. It was somewhat of a stranger to you these days, only really used to store clothes in the three piles of clean, kinda clean, and needing to be washed. You mostly passed out on the couch after hours of nothingness. But you had your instructions.

You put your water glass and pill bottle on the table next to the stack of unread books. A moment’s thought, before turning on the small reading lamp next to your bed. Stripping down to just your t shirt was perfunctory, you knew he was still watching you; but he’d already seen what he’d wanted to and you were in no mood to try and tease or titillate.

It was nice to get under the covers, cocooning yourself in their weight and softness as you closed your eyes, content at least in the knowledge that you were that much closer to doing so for the last time.

#ghostface x reader #fiction #danny johnson #ghostface #dbd #dead by daylight #danny jed olsen johnson

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 14th 2023

"Sticky": Tiger Skin Egg with Sauce.

(Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush, Gouache Blender, Airbrush tool. 10 colors, 45 minutes.)

Cripes, I almost forgot to post this one. Been a busy bee the last few days.

The first time I made this dish it was all going perfectly until it came time to caramelize the sauce. It goes from runny and thin to thick in what feels like 30 minutes and then from thick to CHARRED AND AWFUL in 0.5 seconds. I'm not a stranger to syrups and sugary sauces! Maybe it's the soy sauce that's dangerous because the color can't indicate early signs of caramelization that I can see? But I make brown sugar glazes for fruit all the time. And my standard stir fry sauce has soy, brown sugar, and gochujang in it, which are all dark, and I've never burnt those things. Anyway, first time I made these was a disaster. The eggs were overcooked because the sauce took too long to thicken and then I burnt it so it tasted terribly perfumey. But I remade the sauce by itself much more carefully later and it really is tasty! I just had an awful first attempt. Speaking of which, I need to do a proper study of craggly, crackly fried things. I can get away with a lot here because the rendering is a bit stylized and it's a shiny sauced egg, but trying to replicate that almost-breaded looking fried exterior from my reference was hard. I think we've established I'm fairly effective at drawing smooth things with all my shiny eggies of late but I need to learn how to draw coarser, rougher textures. Maybe more pencil tool next time.

Anyway, here's the speedpaint and the shoutouts. @lady-quen, Another gravity defying eggy for you to draw your precious brebbugs on. Take your time of course. The breadbugs need time to eat all the eggs they stole already!

Thanks as always to @quezify for all the inspiring fried eggy art.

Despite the unfamiliar textures being a challenge, it was fun. And of course I got to make it deliciously shiny. The speedpaint makes it all look so competent and deliberate and my ass is sitting here like "Past me has the competence of a god, or at least seems like it, but I know that bitch personally and I know for a fact there was internal screaming for part of it. "It's bumpy in the reference! There's texture there! But how do I do that? AUGH!" And then it turned out fine anyway, despite faffing around. Gotta get better at trusting my process and actually treating these as LEARNING experiences like last year. Self mantra of "It doesn't need to be perfect. It needs to be an egg. If it's hard, that mean's you're learning." Actively squash that little voice in my brain that doubts. Making art is about the making. The art is just a coincidence. It can be a product later if I decide so, but that's not the objective. The objective is to turn 1s and 0s and funny little lights on a funny little screen into things that look like eggs and manifest something that didn't exist anywhere before except my brain. No doubts, no stress. Only eggy. Plus at the end I can stare at past me making egg very fast like magic. I do like that part. Bless CSP for having a native timelapse capture feature. I just get to click a button and share with you all my magical process.

#Tiger Skin Egg #Eggtober 14 2023 #Eggtober 2023 #my art #art by GKD #speedpaint

[puppypawprintce]

1740 words - gen

2/?

snily friendship, nightmares, severus loving potions class, angst

cw: self loathing

ao3 link if you'd prefer ♡

One, two, three, four - four ounces of Moondew, the herbal green fluid joining its brethren of finely pulverized Unicorn Horn, Syrup of Hellebore, and Stewed Mandrake. The greenish blue substance simmers in the cauldron. Severus couldn't be more focused if he tried, his careful hand stirs its contents while slowly adding in 12 ounces of Honeywater. It beginning to shift to a much warmer shade of amber. The sweat beads by his brow and the steam emanating makes his skin feel false, like wax paper, disgusting.

There are an abysmal amount of ways to screw up an elixir, and he'll be damned if any of the infinite creep up on him today.

When he woke up this morning he'd been excited-an immensely rare sight for the student-to work on his potion of anti-paralysis. Something about it all intrigued him, and he knew he'd wanna pocket some bottles for safe keeping.

Professor Slughorn had begun giving him heads up on what his class had in store, often lending extra books and indulging in the boy's curiosity.

"You could be a great Potions master one day you know." And Severus had known, being one of the only people to carry around tiny bottles of his own creation was somewhat of an ego booster. All the more fun in Herbology and all the more easy to take care of himself.

Maybe just 4 this time.

Other students in the room seem bored, not meeting much a reason to be brewing such a potion in the first place. It must be nice to walk in for the grade alone; Severus finishes pouring his honey-like antidote and runs his fingers through his hair. Everything always feels so sticky around cauldrons, his wrists hurt.

"Okay everyone, clean up for today." Slughorn's voice flits past Severus' ears, crackly and friendly as ever. "Keep this recipe in your repertoire.. Never know when Petrificus Totalus may sneak up on you."

What an understatement. Severus wouldn't be leaving Slytherin Dungeon on Sunday unless absolutely necessary, He wrings his hands and envisions a peaceful evening ahead of him, Saturdays bringing a sense of calm. It's just a trek back to his room and he can finally fall to his pillow and take a nap.

"Hey Sev." Lily's velvet voice acts as an invisible wall he walks into. Her eyes meet his as he takes a second to really catch up in his mind, and Lily's hands fall on his shoulders like knocking over old books. She just barely exceeds him in height, her freckles highlighted by the scattered warmth in her cheeks. "You look exhausted! Did you sleep at all?"

"I slept." He answers, voice croaking like he hadn't been awake the past hour. "Not enough though. I've been planning a long nap all day."

The arms of a warm floral cinnamon hold him tight and it's oh–so familiar. Everytime Lily hugs him, Severus doesn't quite know what to do. Does he hold her back? Would it be embarrassing for her if his hands grazed her hair and does she ever stop to think that it may ruin her reputation to be seen with whatever he is—so close to her lungs and– Why can't he just live in the moment? She always sees right through him in a way that no one else does. Perhaps it's because they've known each other for so long.. Perhaps he's just not the best at hiding his shadow. It's so easy to know a terrible person when Heaven on Earth stands directly next to you.

"I've been having some nightmares. Not too many, but some." His shoulders stay tense. There's never enough time with her, even if he were capable of simply standing here with more confidence he'd still have that voice in the back of his head screaming into the canal that connects his ear and up to his eyes and through every vein that reaches his brain. Spilling acid of it's disgusting to be seen and you ruin everything you touch. It's a shame really, his work in class shows otherwise. Good wizard, bad person. Nothing can change that.

She squeezes him ever so slightly, her fingers going to pet his hair before she brings him back to an arms length apart. There's a face of worry; he hates when she looks at him like that.

"I'm sorry." It's not fair, sleeping is supposed to be a time to rest. The one time when nothing else matters except just laying there unmoving, and trying not to go crazy when the loneliness veers its ugly claws. "Mind if i ask what about?"

Severus shakes his head. It's not like he has to hide this sort of stuff from her.

"It's just mum. She's much busier now, I never know when I'll see her. If it's for one month or one minute." Chest rising and falling, he doesn't expect to feel his throat tighten. He only cries when he's tired. "Sorry I need to go."

"Naptime?"

Please take care of yourself.

He nods and whispers a quiet "see you later" before quickly finding his way around the Hogwarts corridors. It always feels empty when he runs away from her, and whenever she says goodbye. He's always hoping for something better to come up, but he knows it's not logical to think that way. To wish and wish for anything to become perfect, for his life to grow into something he's not and will never be, for things to be different.

Reaching the common room, Severus doesn't say a word to anyone. He heads straight past leather sofas and flickering lamps, through the diamond-shaped door. He lands in the carpet of his room and the way his body hits his mattress feels like a rolling pin grading on his bones 10 times over. He'd exerted himself today, and it hadn't even been a full day's worth of classes.

Counting to 112, his hands grip the 2 layers of blanket he's buried himself in and the world around fades to a depressing gray, warm but far from inviting. Sometimes he wishes for a cat to accompany him with soft paws and a gentle purr.

Other times he just wants to stay asleep 'til Christmas comes.

______

Waves and waves of saltwater fight to pull him under, stinging his eyes and blocking his breath but he can't let them win. It's not a choice, but a responsibility, his long sleeves make it exceedingly hard to move and when he reaches this small puppy in front of him he's counting to 100 hoping they'll reach the shoreline before his lungs and limbs give out. She's shaking, and all he can do is wonder where his mother is.

Eileen had been in the water too, the fury of nature's pool hoisting uncertainty in every direction. Severus looks around, running past several people he can't recognize and it's starting to frighten him. Where'd she go? Is the beating heart he's carrying in his arms meant to be here? It's all a haze, a dreary haze.

They're all suddenly together, Severus ripping the paper wrapper off his straw and their waitress brings in a rack of many books. Eileen doesn't seem to even see Severus, she chatters and laughs but doesn't quite look at him, his brain hammers and drills and he just wants her to say 'I've missed you.'

You don't want to be here do you?

It hurts, hurts more than the water pulling him under and the times he's fallen down the stairs when wanting to skip out on Church and she still won't look at him. It's only when they're in his room and he runs into her arms that her voice is aimed directly at him, the small form she can barely hold on to.

"Why do you wish to be around me when I've been so wrong?"

Severus can't stop crying.

"I miss you. It doesn't matter what you've done, I still miss you."

This hug feels like he's fallen into their burning fireplace in the dead of Winter. He knows she's slipping away. She's always slipping away.

"I can't.."

His head pounds. The feeling of chills play through his shoulders and up his neck, it's a wonder that he's still submerged in fabric of green and silver. He can feel his eyes straining with remnants of salt when he opens them and it's only a little shocking when a rough palm collides with his forehead.

"You haven't got a fever, at least I don't think.."

Regulus has no sense of personal space.

"I'm not sick," Severus responds in such a way, he doesn't know if it's even audible. "Head.. hurts."

As if he were struck by lightning Regulus flings his entire arm back to then hang by his waist, presumably what he'd be doing if he hadn't gone to check Sev's temp status. His place next to his roommate's bed is awkward, and Severus is too wracked with leftover pain and confusion to care.

"Is it 7 already?"

"Nuh uh. Still 5:30." Regulus checks his wrist as if he remembered to bring his watch to school this term.

"More sleep."

And then Severus is out again, the tension in his forehead fading once he's breathing steadily and Regulus can't help but stare for longer than any normal person would. Disgust rises in himself because he doesn't feel like he should bear witness - he sighs out with thoughts racing. It'd be so easy to tease him for everything, but easy isn't what he's about. It's not like he's out to start wars. Only out to finish them.

Everburning candles lead the way out of the room in their spot on the small coffee table, almost like a glowing sign pointing him out. No one else is in here, though that shouldn't surprise him. Leave it to Severus to be the only Slytherin avoiding everyone else like the plague.

Once he can't justify standing around any longer, Regulus picks up a small book from under his bed and snakes his way back out from whence he came. A grimace forms on his face when the door has the audacity to screech and his head whips back to make sure it hadn't been a disturbance. Pangs of empathy, it's not something he knows yet. But maybe one day it'll make sense. And maybe someday it won't feel weird, weird that he stared with not much reason.

He's gotta write this all down.

#severus snape #young severus #pro snape #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #lily evans #snily friendship #regulus black #sev has nightmares and sleep issues #esi writing!

[wickedlittleoz]

Hello! Would it be okay to request Shimadacest somnophilia? :3 Whoever you choose to be the one awake trying to keep quiet maybe and failing so hard, in the end the sleeping one got woken up and then they ride into the sunrise like a happy married couple 🏇☀️

Only if you're comfortable with that theme ofc!!! Thank you! 💞💞

HI ANON <3

sooo in truth somnophilia isn't something i normally gravitate towards/enjoy, but what you described sounded so fun and it's actually very similar to a scene i wrote for jealous, brother? so this might not be super hardcore but i didn't wanna say no to such a kind & respectful request <3 and because i'd already written one with genji trying and failing to stay quiet, hanzo is up for torture the task this time~ i do hope you enjoy it even if it isn't exactly what you had in mind.

thanks for reaching out and please do send more ideas whenever! take care!! <3

this takes place before genji's death. E-rated.

-

It's late.

Well, later than usual for Hanzo, whose sleeping habits haven't been decent since father's death. Sojiro made the clan work look easy, the way he had everything under control at all times. Hanzo is learning that keeping it such takes more hours than a day can suffice.

Though there's got to be a limit, he thinks as he shuts down the computer. Pushes up from the chair, stretches; he's too young to have crackly joints, but alas, more time in the office means less time for training and keeping his health in check.

As he exits the room, he unlocks his phone to a dozen messages from Genji. The last one, from about an hour ago, is a picture of himself in front of a mirror. He has a leg propped up on the wall behind it, off frame, so that Hanzo can see the handle of some... toy that's buried in his ass, while his cock is also in the reflection, and it's hard. The caption reads waitin 4 u.

Hanzo sighs as the picture slowly burns into his brain, where it'll most likely remain forever. He really should pay more attention to his phone, shouldn't he.

Well, he turns on his heels and instead of going to his bedroom, he heads towards Genji's. Better late than never is at the tip of his tongue, but when he knocks and steps inside, he finds his brother fast asleep. He looks adorable, a scatter of sex toys around him on the bed, most likely from when he was digging through them, picking which one to tease Hanzo with. Soft and peaceful, and so very handsome, fully naked still.

Hanzo's cock, which had already been incited by the picture, pulses in his pants at the sight. But it's late, very late, and Genji stayed up waiting for him at least until an hour ago, so there is no excuse to wake him up again.

A bitter flavor coats his tongue as he wonders how awful it would be, or how much Genji would hate him if he sat here and touched himself. Something tells him Genji wouldn't hate him at all – in fact, his promiscuous little brother would probably like to know that even when he isn't trying he can affect Hanzo in such away. And Hanzo wonders if that something isn't just his dick, but he's too tired and too worked up to care.

He locks the door and falls onto Genji's bean bag. From this angle he has a gorgeous view of Genji's hole, still loose from when he had the toy inside, and Hanzo can think back to that picture and imagine that it was his cock stretching Genji to this state. Drool threatens to spill down the corner of his mouth at the thought; he can almost taste Genji from memory alone, so long he has spent licking over every inch of his body.

He feels himself sagging into the seat as he begins to jerk himself, relaxing at last after a long day of work. Sure, he wishes these were Genji's hands, or his mouth or his ass, but the smell and the sight of him will do for now. Little breathy moans escape him and Hanzo bites his lips; he has never really been a loud one, but there's something different in the thrill of having to be quiet. Genji stirs, but doesn't wake, and he sighs.

This bedroom evokes so many memories of time spent here, not as kids, but in this new era of their lives. The one where Hanzo comes to Genji for sex as well as everything else, and vice-versa. Drunk nights and sober nights, angry nights and soft nights, laughter and moans and crying and shouting. They've done it all. And flashes of such moments cross his mind, building on his pleasure, on thoughts of how perfect Genji is and how he wishes the whole world could see it, see Genji, see them.

Hanzo comes with a choked groan, gaze snapping upwards the ceiling, his mouth frozen around the sound that he tries to swallow, but can't manage. He fully melts into the bean bag, throwing his head back and just breathing. He could sleep here, he thinks; he shouldn't, but he could. He feels so relaxed. He can't believe he did something as disgusting as jerking off to Genji when he's asleep and unaware, and somehow it felt so good.

Fuck; he thinks he says that out loud. When he finally shuffles to his feet and starts tucking himself in, his eyes slide over to the bed and-

"Was that good for you?" Genji asks. He's turned onto his back now and his face is still marked from sleep, eyes barely open, but he offers that lewd smile that got them into this mess of a relationship, years ago.

Hanzo freezes in place for a second, caught red-handed, but Genji just laughs. "Come here. I've been waiting for you all night."

He reaches out a hand and Hanzo has no choice but to take it, kneeling onto the mattress and shuffling closer to Genji's body.

"You're wearing too much," Genji complains in murmurs, fingers quick to undo the buttons on Hanzo's waistcoat, then his shirt, shoving it all off his body. Hanzo lets him, always does anyways, but for now his mind is foggy with exhaustion and an orgasm and downright guilt. That is, until Genji takes his chin and pulls him into a kiss.

"You're doing it again," he whispers into Hanzo's mouth and Hanzo knows exactly what he means; Genji always says that he gets too much in his own head sometimes, overthinking even the most inconsequential things. He sighs and almost starts an apology, but Genji kisses him again.

Then it's easy to move onto Genji's body, to awkwardly shove down his pants until they're both fully naked and he fits between Genji's parted legs like he belongs there – which he does. It's easy to kiss down his throat and clavicles, and taste the skin that he'd wished so badly to touch mere minutes ago.

"What took you so long?" His voice is a whine or a moan, or something in-between, as Genji rakes his nails up Hanzo's back.

"Work."

"You work too much," the usual complaint. "That was so sexy, Hanzo..."

Now, that second part is unexpected. He pulls back only enough to find Genji's eyes.

"What was?" He asks, frowning.

"That you were touching yourself right there, at the foot of the bed," he breathes and his hands are suddenly all over Hanzo's shoulders, chest, face. "Were you thinking of me?"

Hanzo's cheeks are burning before Genji is even finished with the question. The things Genji feels comfortable saying are so wild to him. But they can talk to each other like that, when no one's listening.

"Who else could I think about?" He clears his throat, blush deepening as he forces himself to add, "After, um. That picture."

Genji chuckles softly and never in Hanzo's whole life has he seen anyone, anything prettier. "You liked that?"

He just nods, so Genji, something cheeky and proud in his eyes, adds, "Got that toy after the first time we slept together and for weeks I thought you'd never look me in the eye again. It's exactly the same size as you."

Hanzo doesn't know quite how to react to all that information; the memory of their first time and the period afterwards is bittersweet enough. He'd felt so guilty, falling into physical desire for his own brother, that he'd avoided Genji for days, until he couldn't anymore – sure, he could ignore Genji's presence, but it's impossible to run away from his own thoughts and his own feelings, and everything in him ached for his brother.

But to know that Genji procured a dildo that would match his cock, specifically so he could pretend that he had Hanzo when he didn't... He feels dizzy with how fast blood rushes down to his dick, and Hanzo doesn't think much anymore, just pushes one of Genji's knees to the side and slides right into him. He fits right in.

Their gazes still locked, he gets to watch as flames rise in Genji's eyes, as pleasure makes his brows twitch. He smiles, heaving warmly against Hanzo's mouth. "Nothing like the real you, brother," is a whisper and probably the most honest thing Genji has said all night.

Hanzo feels himself losing control of his thoughts; Genji always knows what to say or do to get him to this point. He presses his mouth to Genji's as his hips pull back, only to slam back in. Moans lost in their throats as he refuses to let the kiss end, hitting home with each thrust. Genji's legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into Hanzo's lower back like he wants more.

More?

He pulls back and off Genji, who stares at him in confusion. "On your hands and knees," he says darkly and immediately a grin spreads on Genji's face, who takes no time at all following Hanzo's order. Offering himself like a treat, even reaching back with one hand to pull his cheeks apart. Hanzo grabs his wrist, pressing only hard enough until he hears a moan, then directs Genji's hand to his own cock. "Touch yourself," he tells him and once again Genji obeys, and when Hanzo pushes into him again he grabs a handful of green hair and tugs.

Is that good enough, he wants to ask, but doesn't manage because Genji cries out, probably loud enough to wake up half the house. He groans, too, can't hold it in anymore. Pulling at Genji's hair to the side so he can see how his face twists in pleasure, how he sniffles between moans, how his lips tremble when he begs, "Harder, Hanzo, harder!"

Hanzo would give him the world when he asks like that. He tugs harder at Genji's hair and pushes his hips faster, to begin.

Genji comes first, with all the stimulation, toppling on the bed. Hanzo lets his hips down gently, flips him over; he lays on his back, legs spread wide, mouth hanging open for when Hanzo looms over him and together they jerk him to completion. He tries to aim at Genji's mouth, but it gets all over, and they laugh in breathy chuckles.

He sits back and just breathes for a moment. All things considered, Hanzo thinks himself a very lucky man.

Once he finds some strength in his legs, he gets up and heads to Genji's en suite, returning a moment later with a damp towel to clean up his brother. His eyes flick to the window; outside, the sun is beginning to rise.

"Sorry I kept you up all night," he says as he gently wipes sweat and cum off most crevices of Genji's body. He means it. This is his life, not Genji's; his brother gets to be spared of this awful legacy that was put onto Hanzo's shoulders.

"Do it again whenever," is almost a demand as Genji tugs the towel from Hanzo's hand, tossing it aside and pulling him down to the mattress.

Hanzo hugs his waist and lets Genji rest on his chest. He has to get the new day started soon; there are meetings to attend to and sales to be made. But that's a problem for future Hanzo. For now, he rests with his whole world right here in his arms.

#asks #anon #my fics #shimadacest #genzo #genhan #hangen

[skepsiss]

Heart Beat City -- Steddie

The tang of alcohol on his tongue drenched the room Eddie was in with a blurred glow. The pull of music, dark corners, and vivid exchanges made his drug-riddled brain feel heavy and light all at once. Like a buoy on a bumpy sea, he watched as flutters of people migrated across the dance floor and into private booths. The music was nothing to him: a loud backdrop to shake his chest as he sat in one of those dark corners of the bar. Live music had melted into crackly recorded classics. 

Heart Beat City, Building the Perfect Beast, Reckoning–he could name every one of the songs that bled into one another but didn't care about a single one of them. Summer of love. Boys of the summer. Solo debuts... it was all noise to him at this point. 

He was operating like a machine, raising the bottle to his lips and drinking, watching men and women alike fade into the dark interior of the bar like so much else. He wasn't here alone and even though he had to put effort into remembering who he walked in here with he was aware that he wasn't alone. Gareth, Benson–some of the guys. This wasn't the first time they had crashed a bar outside of Hawkins, piling into a van on a Friday night for a spot of fun. But Eddie wasn't having fun, he was just watching everyone else have fun. Men, women, bodies pressed against one another in a too-crowded bar and he was acting like a moody 85-year-old drinking his sorrows away.

Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the poor choice of mixing drugs and alcohol but after he had turned out his pockets and sold the last of the LSD he had come here with he had felt his mood drop. One of the reasons they had chosen this bar was because it was a hookup spot–a friendly hookup spot. It had its back allies and locked doors, one-stall bathrooms, and it was an easy place to hit up to sell. Drug money to buy beer, beer to waste the night away. They were probably going to sleep in the van tonight anyways. 

But Eddie was just watching as his friends filtered out of view, crashing into women like an all-powerful tide, both of their bodies moving together... he wished he could talk to girls like that. He wished that despite his patches, leather, and spikes that it was easier to approach women, but none of them ever picked him. It wasn't the worst, he liked men more anyways. That was why this bar was friendly. 

He put no effort into being approachable, his mood soured by jealousy as people paired off and a new quartet entered the dance floor. Greenhorns and experts alike doing this same dance every Friday night. He was tired of it. He was tired, but despite himself when his beer was finished he walked back up to the bar and ordered another, lingering. He wore bandanas in his pockets and leaned on bar counters, signalled to any wayward man who passed by. In these kinds of bars, it didn't take very long for someone to notice. Light blue for oral, black for rough sex, orange for casual–it all meant something, and people noticed when you hung out at bars like this.

So when men approached Eddie, when people leaned on the bars beside him before his beer made it back to him and asked to buy him a drink he wouldn't even need to smile. He wouldn't need to talk to them like he had to talk to girls to get them interested in him, these men knew right away what to say. They'd test and Eddie would put the neck of the bottle in his mouth, he'd tip it up, and try not to lose focus with his brain half mashed. They'd touch his hand and he'd touch back, pretending that this was some sort of romance, that they had talked for hours and he was charmed by them. These guys, they were all good-looking. It was easy to spot a hookup spot. 

He'd follow them to back allies, locked rooms, and one-stall bathrooms, places where the music was still loud enough that his mind wouldn't wander. Where he could hold his beer by the neck and have someone kissing him as soon as they were in their own dark corner. People, maybe he sold drugs to earlier that night, people who thought he was older than sixteen, seventeen... eighteen. On nights like this, he couldn't even remember if this was perverted or not, he didn't even know how old he was anymore. His brain ground every night since he was fifteen together. Back when he thought allies and private rooms meant romance and that these guys would talk to him again afterward. 

Give up the ghost, turn around, get on your hands and knees–they never talked to him again after that. 

He let the background music that he hated so much fold into his brain–stop his thoughts. His half-finished beer sitting on the dirty floor as some guy indulged in his flesh. Lifting up shirts and pulling down collars, but never fully undressing. 

They all just wanted the same thing anyways, but Eddie always indulged longer than he needed. Kissing them and biting lips until they turned him around or pressed him to his knees. And then his face would be cold against tiles and his body would be all fire, getting sweaty in his too-large jacket and flannel. Choking out sounds and half words, hoping his mind would stay clear enough that he wouldn't pass out from his high. Sometimes he even got to do the choking, and that was rare. Sometimes he'd get to do this more than once in a night. He always felt sloppy the second time around. 

Men would press up against him, wash him away, sail him to somewhere farther than this bar an hour outside Hawkins, somewhere that he knew even his band wouldn't give him a concerned eyebrow raise when he disappeared into the dark shadows. Men would fall over him, hold him tight around his chest, and breathe life into his neck like he mattered to them. Sometimes they'd call him beautiful, or hot and he'd swallow that too. They always complimented him when he swallowed. 

They'd rock the bar from their private room that reeked of beer that stained his knees. And sometimes it would hurt, but he always left feeling grateful and like a part of him was taken away with the man who walked out the door when they were done. Warm and sweaty and full of more than just beer. He loved it and hated it, and tonight he hated it. The way men squealed and the smell of the bathrooms, how he'd read the graffiti on this wall a million times to no satisfaction. It was good, don't doubt that it was good, but the bitter taste of his mouth made him wish that he'd at least be kissed afterward.

Hold me, enfold me, talk to me like I'm someone. 

Then he'd slouch and the music would take him away, his body punched from the gut downwards, indecent as he stood pressed against the wall. Hard breathing, no longer hard cock. Breathe and breathe and listen to the thanks, shake his head no if they asked if he needed something. He'd adjust and pick his beer back up, wash the taste away with more bitterness. They'd break even and he'd stand the rest of the night because it hurt too much to sit. 

He wouldn't check if whoever he came here with came back, he'd just crawl into the van when he'd had enough. They'd knock if they needed to come in and sleep, and only once had he accidentally interrupted something. And then he'd sleep and the next morning they'd all be smiles and groans from being hungover; ask without asking how each of their nights went. No one partied as hard as Eddie Munson, and sometimes Eddie wouldn't even be able to drive them home, someone else at the wheel. Papers with numbers scrawled on them. Arms with new ink, lovely girls who twisted their hair and who got on their knees. 

Eddie's souvenirs were the ones of purple and red marks. Scars on his brain that left him wondering if he'd make it home next time at all. 

Smile and crack and let everyone think he always loved these outings, always loved the way his friends disappeared into dark corners for their own ends and leave him watching the dance floor like a statue of sin. Watch but don't touch. Want but don't love. Sing but unsung.

So when Steve Harrington came around and looked at Eddie with big brown eyes he hated it. He hated that he looked like every guy he had ever seen in every bar he had ever been in. How he was so goddamn handsome. Even when his upper lip wasn't perfectly shaved and you could see the speckled brown of hair on his cheek–what 'disheveled' looked like to Steve Harrington–king of Hawkins High, 6 feet deep in babes, money, and perfect hair. He hated guys like Steve who seemed to effortlessly move through life, who smiled and didn't start a fight when he threatened them. 

He hated guys like Steve Harrington and he didn't know if he wanted to be him and be with him. 

The effect a man like Steve Harrington had on people was toxic at best, and a high at worst. Because Eddie had never found a better drug than getting a crush. It drove him insane, it made him want more, and the comedown was the worst he ever felt, and yet... he'd always go back for more. The floundering, the trying to talk to a guy for real. It was everything he avoided when he went to bars and these stupid goddamn crushes made him want to try. He sounded like an idiot when he tried to talk to people… when he was genuine. And here was Steve Harrington, genuine to a fault who just spoke his mind, crossed his arms, and loved the people around him so hard that he'd sacrifice everything for them. Every ounce of popularity, every single dime, every last hair on his pretty head.

Eddie just wanted to be good enough to be one of those people he'd sacrifice for. 

No, that wasn't true, he didn't want to be any way. He didn't want to be different or to feel like 'he could change for the better, be a better person' for Steve Harrington. He wasn't that far gone, he was still Eddie Munson. But he wanted Steve to be worse. He wanted him to lower his standards and wallow in the mud with The Freak. He was already good enough... he wanted Steve to compromise. 

He had everything Eddie wanted and hated all at once and he wanted Steve to want to give it up. Was that too much to ask? It was too much to ask. And that was why crushes killed Eddie Munson. He knew, deep down, he was unpolished and undesirable and really the only reason the guys at the bars picked him up was because he was easy. Hard to love, easy to fuck. 

Kiss after kiss after kiss after kiss. All he wanted was for one of those to be with Steve. To taste what perfection looked like, to understand how someone who had everything gave it up for the outcasts and the freaks. 

Me too. Eddie yelled into the wind. Me too. He screamed at the void. 

But something amazing happened, something that no drug had ever given to him. It answered him. He heard. Somehow, somewhere, someway... Steve Harrington heard him and answered. 

And he wallowed. 

Eddie tasted perfection. The acidity of sunshine and the spice of daddy's money. How making out in cars and the squeak of leather seats had never felt so good. How Steve, somehow, wanted to know what mud and regret tasted like. That Steve chose him. 

Every pretty girl in Hawkins, and he chose Eddie. 

I love you, I love you, I love you. I need you, I need you, I need you. 

Addicted. 

The worst drug of your life. 

Eddie didn't even have to turn around to get it. He could look right at Steve the whole time, count the moles on his shoulders, and relish in how soft his skin was. He could enjoy the sensation of being on his back instead of his knees and if he wanted to know what Steve's sweat tasted like he could find out. He could see what a guy, fully naked, really looked like. No t-shirts, socks, or pants just unzipped enough to get it up. He could look, and man did he look. Even if this was a fling, even if this lasted until Steve found someone better, he could live with that. He could live with having him for just a few months just so he could experience this. 

Who was he kidding? He was addicted. 

Eddie Munson, island, wanted to strand Steve Harrington. He wanted to be the only thing and everything Steve could ever want or need. He needed to be everything because Steve had already taken every hard edge Eddie had stuffed into the box and pulled it loose. Rounded everything out. Soft. He was already going to fall apart if Steve walked away. He was already 80 percent less. 

But every morning he got to taste sunshine, and every afternoon he got to touch the sky. Steve was elevating him, and he didn't want to come down. It was devastating, and it was everything he had ever wanted. He was going to die to this. Steve owned him.

#steddie #so this is def rated 18+ #swearing and sex mentioned #I like that Eddie is just a bit toxic #he gets angry easily and I think he would get greedy with love #Look toxic relationships are fun to write don't come at me #steve harrington #Eddie Munson

[failfemme]

the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game 🎶

tagged by @sophelstien like a week ago oops

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every siuungle track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums. 🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules:1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

tagging @charaznablescanontoyota @oatplant @kelpforestdwellers @tendercoretroglodyke

wee commentary and song recs below the cut

plans by death cab for cutie

(plans turns 20 next year. every night since i realized this, i have wished on a star that they will make one of those star-studded cover albums like tegan and sara’s the con x or the metallica blacklist. @ ben gibbard do you hear me!!!!!!!!)

song rec: summer skin is such a simple, evocative poem of a song

seven swans by sufjan stevens

(this album makes me feel like i am staring into a maelstrom. a banjo is something that can be so personal.)

song rec: for a good mood, to be alone with you. for melancholy, seven swans.

so jealous by tegan and sara

(baby’s first queer media. relic of my emotionally turbulent “girls kissing” youtube searches era and also of my later emotionally turbulent girl kissing era.)

song rec: speak slow kind of exemplifies what i love about this era of tegan and sara- so punchy and fun and fast.

be the cowboy by mitski

(if you haven’t grasped by now that i am basic idk what to tell you. the thing is, it’s good.)

song rec: it’s gotta be geyser. the way she talks about her relationship to her craft both in the song and in interviews is so real.

carly rae jepsen free space

(this was my solution to not fill up the whole entire meme with crj. both sides of emotion and dedicated are no-skips, and kiss and the loneliest time are like. one song away.)

song rec: go listen to crj’s critically acclaimed song store. right now.

pity boy by mal blum

(i’ve been a mal blum fan for a long time, and it has been such a delight to get to witness their musical growth, including their voice changing. their raw, crackly vocals compliment these songs so well. getting to scream sing along with a bunch of queer punks at their concert last summer was cathartic.)

song rec: if you have a large group of homos to sing along with, i don’t want to. if not, salt flats.

art angels by grimes

(do i have to give the disclaimer that annoying ppl can make really good art sometimes. no. you understand.)

song rec: i haven’t actually listened to this album in ages, but i feel like pin was one of my faves. also venus fly with janelle monae.

talon of the hawk by the front bottoms

(tease me all you want. be the 10th person to send me the “i recorded myself calling ex-girlfriends on edibles and accidentally made a tfb album” meme. i am cringe, and i am free. hold my hand. let’s drive around doing our best brian sella impressions at top volume.)

song rec: are you an emotional baby boy? of course you are, you’re listening to the front bottoms. santa monica time.

tracy chapman by tracy chapman

(this album has everything. romantic ballads. politically charged slow songs. politically charged upbeat songs. nostalgic memories of listening to this cassette in my ex’s truck while we drove around our college town. there’s a reason i’m always screaming about how ppl should listen to more than fast car.)

song rec: for my lover is both politically charged and romantic. it is also: catchy as hell.

[vexx-ation]

12 Albums of 2023

The nature of my current job means that I have pretty long periods where I'm doing hands-on but mindless work. Since I'm working with samples that can't be contaminated, being able to mess with my phone to adjust my music is out of the question, and so I entered the world of Youtube playlists and full albums, giving me hours of uninterrupted jams. Because of that, I've widened my music taste quite a bit and found a ton of new albums, so I thought it would be fun to highlight some of my favorites from this year!

TECHDOG1-7: Patricia Taxxon

There isn't anything I can say about this album that encapsulates the experience of listening, except to assure you that about a third of the way in I could feel new neuronal connections happening in my brain. This album puts all of her talents on display, reaching an almost divine level of vibes. Drawing on all her experiences and previous work, this feels like a beautiful medley of all the things that made her previous albums so beloved. The lush quality of Taxxon's music is all-encompassing, stimulating the senses so thoroughly that I can't recommend anything but sitting back, closing your eyes, and letting the album itself guide you.

Note: Including TECHDOG1-7 is a bit of a cop out on my part, as this is a compilation of 7 albums released in succession by Taxxon. They're all great though, so you can't do wrong picking any one of them :)

2. Music for Animal Cafes: Nobonoko

Though I find Animal Cafes to be one of many absolute bangers in nobonoko's discography, there's something to be said about this album in particular. It has all the brightness and joy present in their other works, and vibes spectacularly throughout its hour runtime. The established mood is jazzy and comfortable, and serves as a great entry point into the rest of their music.

3. SEPPUKU: chocomilk-chan

At almost two hours in length, SEPPUKU is easily the longest album in this list (not including the TECHDOG compilation). It uses that time effectively, effortlessly changing timbres and textures throughout its run without ever losing its core. The harsh, almost crackly drum synths provide an effective foundation for whatever new components chocomilk adds on top, from lush chords to piercing chimes. This is an album that experiments with sound while focusing on maintaining momentum, smooth enough to chug along in the background and complex enough to intrigue anyone who wants to listen more deeply.

4. arc,regn: greenhouse (Halley Labs)

I don't think Halley Labs has ever produced anything but great albums, and this is no exception. Right from the beginning, you're met with lush chords and masterful use of panning, which continues throughout the entire album like a lifeline. Not only is the music rich with complexities, catchy lines, and musical talent, but there is an obvious mastery of the medium itself on display. The album creates a world all its own as it weaves through new sounds and arcs. I wouldn't bother putting this on as BG music, as the layers of sound here are more likely to draw you in like it did me!

5. Pawprint Panic!: Napcast

This album absolutely jams. Calling to mind indie DS-era titles, the bouncy and bright synths are kept moving by a groovy bassline and funky drums. Jazzy melodies soar overhead on toybox-esque synths and piano, maintaining a grounded but playful quality. Expertly unified, it truly feels like an OST dredged from the 00s golden age, imbued with an infectious rhythm and bangers that make you wonder how this isn't on every VGM playlist. Listen in an open room, because this album WILL make you want to dance.

6. anemoia: kurokocchi

This album is all about contrast. The piano melodies wouldn't feel out of place in a lofi jam or a music box, but thrashing beneath is a drumbreat that lends an almost manic energy to the songs. With simple, looping lines that encircle and chase the frenetic percussion, anemoia captures the essence of gleeful, uncontrolled anxiety. The bursts of sound and wild motion makes the album pass by in an instant, leaving you breathless with its memory when the final beat hits. Don't listen after a cup of coffee-- your heart might stop.

7. Mage's Cauldron for Sweet Dreams: Tottomori

And now for something completely different! A reprieve from the endless list of high energy beats and breakcore that I just recommended, Mages Cauldron instead creates an overwhelming sense of calm, relishing in the stillness and silence. With sparse melodies and long stretches of quiet, Mages Cauldron soothes and placates, seeming to slow down time itself as it constructs its ambiance. Building as the album continues, you can see the forest take shape in your mind's eye through the melodies. This is an album to sit by the fire with-- let yourself be invited to the world it creates and relax.

8. Lucky Tiger: Telenights

Ever listen to an album that just *vibes*? If you like that kind of music, Lucky Tiger might be your jam. With steady grooves, carefully placed pads, and a subtle yet confident mastery over sound design, Lucky Tiger creates an atmosphere like no other. The albums slides effortlessly back and forth between more ambient qualities and forward grooves, encouraging you to move along with it. Disparate elements from classical guitar to jazz sax to hiphop percussion hold hands, nothing overpowering the other as the album fuses these styles to create something all its own. Take a sip: it goes down smooth.

9. Sun Colored Eyes: Mabisyo

In the same (vapor)wave as Telenights, Mabisyo delivers expertly with snazzy beats and a concrete atmosphere throughout the mixtape. This album serves as a highlight to the refinement of their production process, expertly blending samples and making great use of their sonic toolkit to elevate the experience. Each song builds on the last, adding more layers and using samples in entirely new ways that form a melodious, cohesive whole of all the disparate parts. TLDR? This thing bangs.

10. music for bugs - camiidae

Light, airy, and with the cutest accompanying visuals I have ever seen, music for bugs wins my vote for most delightful album of the year. Laying the bells and piano with nature sounds gives the album a friendly and soothing ambiance, which carries the soft melodies and sparse chords. A great album for a nice walk

11. Meadow Theatre - Gumboot

In the same vein as music for bugs, Meadow Theatre creates a naturalistic, quiet ambiance accented by soft, hiphop beats. Drawing from a myriad of samples and mixing them with elegance, the album creates the ideal environment for quiet contemplation, settling into looping sections at the end of each track that know just when to change things up before they overstay their welcome. It's a nice album to settle down with

12. Seasons - Kate Short

Rounding out the list is the only non-instrumental album, which maintains a sweet and soft acoustic quality throughout. With poignant lyrics and a masterful understanding of space and silence, Short creates an album that glides along with poise. With lush instrumentals and a clear voice, this album becomes nothing short of transcendental

#music #album recommendations #long post

[snezi]

Hi @my-snz-blog! I’m your secret Santa this year! I wrote you a tiny Star Trek fic featuring Kirk and McCoy - I wasn’t sure what your preferred pairings were, so I hope that’s okay! :) Snz spellings are inspired by hessickjim.

(Also tagging @softsnzstuff to be sure this gets to you!)

Midterms were finally over at the Starfleet academy, and Jim was pumped! After days of all-nighters and practically being glued to the chair in the library, slogging through brain-boggling amounts of material, he couldn’t wait to see Bones again and go out for some drinks. They had a long weekend now, since they always got a short fall break after exams, and Jim was determined to have as much fun as was humanly possible.

The air had turned bitterly cold lately, and Jim could see his breath as he hurried across campus towards Leonard’s room. The biting frost combined with the euphoria of the break had Kirk feeling electric. Had it really only been 3 days since he’d seen the man? It felt more like an eternity.

Bounding up the stairs to the private room, he rapped quickly on the door.

“Who is it?” Called a voice that almost sounded…hoarse?

“Bones…?” Jim replied hesitantly, slightly confused. “It’s me!”

A shuffling from inside, and then Leonard appeared, opening the door only part way. He looked haggard, his eyes red-rimmed, face pale, and hair mussed. He clutched a quilt around his shoulders.

For a moment, Jim just stood there in shock. “Whoa, Bones, you look like hell.”

The older man scoffed out a laugh that quickly turned into a dry, raspy cough. “You say the nicest things to me,” he muttered, his voice gravelly. “Whadda ya want?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in forever, so I wanted to check on you! And also to see if you wanted to go out tonight. But never mind that, we can just hang out here!”

He took a step toward Leonard, who immediately pulled the door further closed. “I don’t think so. I don’t want…want you c-catching…thi-hhhhhh’AHSCHHhuuh!” He ducked away, releasing a massive sneeze into his quilt-covered arm, blinking blearily in the aftermath.

“Bless you,” Kirk winced.

The sick man released a garbled, scraping sound as he cleared his throat. “As I said, I don’t want you catching this.”

“Yeah, you sound terrible. Which is why you need me around to help! I’ll be fine! Please?” He unleashed his best big-blue-puppy-eyes look.

“Absolutely n-no-hhhuh’AHTCSHhu!” This second sneeze bent the med student nearly in half, his grip on the door the only thing keeping him upright.

Jim quickly ducked under Leonard’s arm, keeping it around his neck while wrapping his own arm around his waist. “Easy, Bones. Why don’t you sit down?”

Forced to keep the blanket clamped to his mouth and nose in the aftermath of his drenching, messy sneeze, the med student had no choice but to relent. Jim gently guided him back to his bed, where he immediately grabbed a wad of tissues and cleaned up.

“I’m serious, kid, you should get out of here,” he rasped again, before dissolving into a crackly coughing fit that made his lungs ache.

It hurt Jim’s heart to see him like this. He rubbed circles into Bones’s chest until the fit abated, and the man leaned back against his headboard, looking spent.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he insisted, his blue eyes meeting Leonard’s hazel ones.

Something vulnerable seemed to flash through the older man’s gaze, but before he could respond, he succumbed to another fit of coughing that refused to subside. Jim ran to get a glass of water, his heart rate spiking as icy tendrils of anxiety gripped his gut. What if Bones needed medical attention? He was no doctor! Would he even be able to convince him to go?

The cold water seemed to help, though, and finally Leonard got control of his lungs back.

“Can I get you anything? More water? Tea? Medicine?” Kirk asked, a bit more frantically than he intended.

Still breathing raggedly, Bones reached out and grabbed his wrist, momentarily halting his spiraling thoughts. “I’m alright, darlin’.”

“But maybe we should go to the clinic? What if you get worse?” Jim murmured, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Leonard frowned. “Hey, don’t do that. C’mere.” He opened his arms and Jim dove into them, snuggling his face into Bones’s neck as he enveloped them both in the blanket. “What’s got you so worked up, now, hmm?”

“You’re sick, Bones,” Jim mumbled, reflexively squeezing him tighter. “I’m worried about you.”

The older man affectionately ruffled Jim’s hair, grateful he couldn’t see how much he was blushing. “You know, you can be pretty sweet when you’re not being a huge pain in my ass,” he teased.

Jim swatted him, grinning in spite of himself. “I’m serious.”

“And I appreciate your concern, darlin’. I’ve got a nasty bug, but that’s all it is. Okay?”

Jim leaned back to look searchingly into Leonard’s eyes, brow pinched in a slight frown. “You do feel really warm, though, Bones,” he fretted, placing a palm to his forehead, and then the back of his hand to the hollow of his neck. “I’m going to grab a cold cloth.”

Before McCoy could protest, he had leapt up and sprinted into the bathroom.

“Slow down, kid, before you trip and fall!” Leonard groused, a few tickly coughs bursting out after.

Completely ignoring the scolding, Jim came running back into the room, skidding to a stop next to the bed. He carefully folded the wet rag, and gently laid it against the back of Leonard’s neck.

“Damn that’s cold,” the med student hissed, wincing as a shiver suddenly ripped through him.

He barely had time to open his arms again before Jim was diving back into place against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Bones,” Kirk murmured softly, clutching him tightly. “I wish I was better at taking care of you.”

Leonard wrapped his arms around him, heart melting. “Hey, now, you’re doing great. I’m really alright, darlin’, okay?” He nudged Jim a bit, forcing him to sit up and meet his gaze.

Those big blue eyes were so trusting, it nearly broke Leonard’s heart. “Okay,” Kirk said.

“Good. Now, I don’t…w-wait, Jim-” But it was too late, Jim had already curled back into Bones’s neck, and any attempt to pry him off was not happening. Bones quickly covered Jim’s head and face with the quilt before he snapped to the side with a large, “HHH’MFFSSHHuh!”

“Bless you, Bones,” Jim smiled, peeking out from the blanket cocoon.

Leonard flushed as he sniffled wetly. “Ugh. You are definitely going to catch this.”

“Worth it,” Jim replied, hugging him tighter as he leaned up to kiss Bones’s cheek.

If anyone asked, his blush was definitely from the fever…

#st/ar tr/ek #my writing #kb secret Santa #sick!bones

[thehunterstracks]

The First Hunt (Ch.1)

A small cabin in the forest sat quietly alone inside,The Hunter sat on the window sill reading. The cabin was warm and smelled of charcoal from the fireplace, books littered the surfaces of the tables in the cabin. A pot was boiling some vegetables for dinner, just The Hunter and their tracker.Candles burning were the only source of light during that time, the sun had set about an hour ago.

The tracker was curled up by the door waiting for a call to be made. They had been informed of a new job offer coming soon.It was curled up comfily, ready for anything at any moment. Its walls weren't fully down though, as they typically weren't.

“Any call yet?” The Hunter asked, putting down their book to look up at their companion.It shook its head, assuring the boss it hadn't seen any movement outside either.

“Disappointing, shall I make us tea while we wait?” The Hunter asked, standing up, their book is forgotten on the table.The tracker nodded and got up to follow The Hunter. Sitting on the kitchen counter it questioned "What do you think the new employers will be like?".

The Hunter hummed. “I don’t know Hakim, hopefully cooperative.” They grabbed two mugs from a shelf and prepared the kettle. “Chamomile or Lady Gray?” They asked.

"Chamomile please !!" it said, moving from the counter it was sitting on over to its partner. "I hope the job isn't too quick, what's the fun if it's over too soon?" it said with a slight frown.

The Hunter chuckled softly, lighting the stove and placing the kettle upon the flame. “Sadistic little thing, aren’t you?” They teased.

"Come on," chuckled Hakim, a sly smile on its unmasked face "can't I play with my food a little?"

“You do what you like, little fox, but I prefer to kill my prey before I eat it first.” The Hunter hummed, taking the kettle off the stove as it whistled loudly. They poured the hot water into both mugs and added the tea bags, handing one to the smaller figure.

The Tracker happily took the cup, blowing on it to cool it down. "Understood, I simply enjoy it more when there's more fight. I guess I'm just easily under-stimulated." It took a little sip of the tea.

“Fair, I suppose.” The Hunter agreed, lifting the mug to take a sip. “Good choice, Chamomile has always been my favorite before going out.”

"To be honest with you," the tracker looked down at its cup "I believe you're the one that got me hooked on it." It ended the sentence with the sly smile it had been wearing turning into a much softer, approachable smile.

“Really? How interesting. The smallest things are always the best ones I suppose.” Hummed The Hunter. “But I must say, your mischievous side has taken a toll on me.”

"In the good or bad way?" Questioned the smaller of the two. It raised the cup to its lips to find none left, it wasn't lying about truly enjoying the tea.

“Does it matter?” They answered. “Would you like more tea?”

It nodded, quickly handing its cup to the taller one. Once the cup was out of its hands it quickly perked up its ears at the notice of a ringing phone. It quickly ran to answer it, wondering if it was the newest employer.

As The Hunter poured more tea for the smaller one of the two, they chuckled softly at its fast response to the ringing.

The voice on the other end was, crackly if you could even slightly describe it. The soft sound of static quickly rang through its ears, a moment later and it quickly grabbed a pen and paper to Wright the address the voice of the other end was saying. However when its brain seemed to catch up with what was happening it realized it wasn't an address but coordinates, and a time to meet there.

Once done writing the coordinates and time it ran back to its companion's side, not after a proper goodbye of course.

“Intriguing.” The Hunter said, looking at the coordinates that their partner had written down. “I remember an old client who did that.”

The Hunter gave the newly filled mug back to their smaller companion, taking their own and putting it away.

"Yes well, it seems we may have to finish our tea quicker than we would like, they wish us to meet them in little under an hour." The tracker explained, taking a sip of the warm tea.

“I see. Well, finish that cup and we’ll start to head towards the coordinates. I can go look at the map to see where we’re going, we might need to prepare for the weather.” The Hunter ordered, grabbing their fur cloak and taking a look at the map rested on the kitchen table.

“It seems that our client may be an operator, considering their urgency.” The Hunter commented.

The tracker quickly finished its tea, looking at the weather. It seemed like rain.

"Operators are surely always something, I hope they don't want the job done too quickly," it said. a small frown forming on its face.

“Yes, they are. At least they pay well. Most of them do want things out of the way very quickly, however, so you might be right.” The Hunter sighed, grabbing some supplies and their gun. “Do you think I’ll need regular bullets or A. Bullets?” They asked.

"You could take the regular bullets, and I'll hold onto your A. Bullets?" it said, tucking its dagger into its boots. "By the way, do you know where my raincoat is?"

“In the closet.” The Hunter responded, loading their gun.

It made its way to the closet, grabbing its raincoat and tucking its crossbow onto its belt. "thank you!" it said, a mix of adoration and thankfulness. It walked over to the Hunter.

“Are you all ready?” They asked, strapping on their gun and handing Hakim a couple of Angel Bullets for safekeeping.

"Pretty much," it said, grabbing its bushel of arrows, and sticking the A. bullets into a small compartment inside. "Oh yeah, Jadis, do you wanna play some checkers when we get done?" a playful smile crept onto its face.

“Are you trying to scam me again?” Jadis asked, suspicious of their friend’s antics. They pulled up their hood and stepped outside, it was drizzling slightly.

Tracker followed, closing the door behind it. "Why would I ever scam you? I can't believe you'd accuse me of such a thing !" It said, feigning shock.

“Oh hush, yes I’ll play. Now let’s get going.” Hunter sighs, heading towards the coordinates of the client.

"Yes! Alright, let's head out." It said, transforming into its fox form. An arctic fox, while not the best for a forest climate, is still fine when having the proper resources.

The travel was mostly silent, the sound of rain is the only noise in the forest. As they neared the coordinates, a piece of paper hung on a nearby tree. It swayed slightly, soaked by the rain.

A small sound emitted from the side of the Hunter as the Tracker changed back from its fox form. It quickly grabbed the wet note, bringing it back to its boss.

The Hunter studies the note quietly, it looked rushed, like it was written by a child. ‘ALWAYS WATCHES NO EYES’ it said. There was a drawing of a face with Xs for eyes. “How peculiar, I believe I know who our client is.” Hunter hummed in amusement. “You certainly won’t get bored with this job, little fox.”

The fox perked up at the news. "Sounds fun, are we gonna get to meet our new employer, or are they the mysterious type?" it questioned.

“Oh, I’m sure we will, however, I do not know our client personally, but I sure as hell know he isn’t the one to hire mercenaries on the spot.” The Hunter answered. “He’s more of a…‘business type’ if you will.”

"Oh, should I have donned a suit? Do they wear a suit? Are they one of those fancy people with the nice art pieces in their house?" it questioned excitedly, practically burying its partner with its questions.

“Slow down, Little Fox.” The Hunter chuckled. “Why don’t you ask them yourself?” They said as the pair had finally reached the coordinates.

It rested its hand on the crossbow on its side as they approached. It stepped a little in front of the Hunter. As much as it enjoyed fooling around, its priorities were in order.

As the pair stepped through the trees into an opening, it revealed a large mansion, big enough to hold hundreds of people. “Welcome to Slender Mansion, Little Fox. Mind your manner however, some of those who live here have a temper.” The Hunter revealed, taking their hood off and stepping towards the doors of the mansion.

The fox nodded and followed. Its hand rested on its belt instead of directly on its crossbow. It watched intently as the Hunter knocked on the doors, waiting for them to open.

Before the door opened, there were multiple ’you go get it’s before stomping was heard and the door quickly opened to reveal a masked man, slightly shorter than The Hunter.

“Who are you?” The man asked, looking the two up and down.

“We are mercenaries, called here by your Operator I believe.” The Hunter explained calmly. “Mercenaries?” The man scoffed. “As we need them, we do our jobs just fine.”

"If that were true we wouldn't be heard." It said with a smile, slightly muffled by the mask that it put on before the door opened.

“Yeah? Well listen little shit, we don’t need your help. Just go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and bury yourself, yeah?” The man snapped back, visibly irritated. The voices inside seemed to have quieted.

The fox, frankly a little taken aback, readied to throw another insult at the man in the white mask. However before it could begin its talking, a man with a blue face mask and goggles peeked around the door. "Masky what's the hold-up? You were supposed to let the gu- fuck the guests in"

“We don’t know if their guests, RODGERS. They could be some assholes who want to rob us!” Masky snapped. The Hunter sighed, this was going to be a long night.

"Slender said barely ten minutes ago that guests would arrive soon, so we can probably assume these are the guests, WRIGHT." said the "Rodgers" character. Hakim snickered at the cute bickering.

“Fine! Jesus, why are you our captain..” Masky had grumbled, opening the door all the way so that the pair could come inside. “Thank you.” Hunter had mumbled quietly, nodding to the ‘Rodgers’ person and stepping inside.

The Tracker gave a small nod of appreciation. It noticed the fine interior of the home. While its questions of the house being very fancy weren't fully wrong, they weren't completely right either. The home looked very nice, but it looked lived in by several people. It was apparent that the two they'd met were only a small part of the cast

“Welp. I’m going to my room. Bye.” Masky has said before quickly rushing to his room to avoid any more ‘annoyances’. “…feisty one, isn’t he?” The Hunter joked, turning to the smaller man.

"Yeah he's been a bit," the man paused to think of his next words, trying to plan out so he doesn't stutter too bad "on edge currently. Well he's on edge pretty much alwe- shit always, but I assume you aren't here to talk about him?" he quickly moved to close the door behind the pair

“No, we are not. May I ask where we must go to find your boss?” The Hunter questioned, towering over the smaller two beside them.]

The boy thought for a moment before moving to guide them to the dining room. "Of course, right this way." He gestured into the room, standing propped up in the doorway.

“Thank you…?” The Hunter had said expectantly, silently asking for a name before entering the room before them.

"Toby Rogers and you two are?" he said, returning the question.

“Just call us the Hunter and Tracker, no need for names when it’s been thousands of years.” The Hunter responded, bowing slightly to Toby before entering the room.The Tracker gave a polite nod and small bow to the man before following its boss. Toby continued to rest on the door, waiting for the interaction that was about to unfold.As the two entered the room, a tall lanky man with no head features in a black suit sat before them at a desk littered with papers and books. He ‘looked’ expectantly at the two as they entered. ”Right on time, as usual, Hunter.” The man spoke in a smooth voice. “Thank you, old friend. You called?” The Hunter responded.

”Indeed I did. I’m having trouble with a particular demon, they have been wondering for too long in our territory. I have sent my proxies out but they came back empty-handed, I should have expected it. I would like you to find this demon and bring them to me, I need a word with them.” The man explained, The Hunter nodded understanding the assignment. “You mustn’t go so hard on them, you know, they are human.” They said, referring to the earlier insult about the man’s workers.

"Frankly, I find it interesting any humans have lasted this long working for you." the fox spoke, quickly speaking again once they realized its words could be misinterpreted. "Meant as a compliment of course," it gave a quick look to Toby before looking back at the Tall man "I should know humans aren't too durable." It said, reflecting on the days before it was immortal.

”I take it that you too were human once, yes? Maybe the incompetent fools that do my bidding could take after you, little fox.” The man had stated. ”However that is not what you're here for, let’s get back to business, shall we? My proxies shall fill you in on the details of the assignment, just bring the demon back alive and you shall have your payment.” Soon, a slight ringing was heard, and the man had sent out a signal for the others.

“We will be as quick as possible, as promised.” The Hunter had responded.

"I'll fill you in while Slender does some other business," Toby started. "I'll give you all the information on the demon. I'll be waiting in the living room for you two" with that statement he walked out of the room.

The Hunter nodded, and they looked down at their companion. “May you go meet him first? I would like to talk alone with our client.” They asked softly.

"Of course!" it said cocking its head, before quickly walking into the living room to get the information.

“Play nice.” They said watching their friend leave the room. “I’m under the impression that you would like Tracker to stay here for a couple of weeks? To train your proxies I assume?” Hunter had asked after their companion was out of earshot.

”Indeed, you may stay as well if you like.” The man offered, and Hunter nodded. “I understand, we’ll report back to you when the assignment is done.” They said before stepping out of the room.

The tracker finally had the demon in its hands, reporting their location to the Hunter. It quickly dropped down from the tree, making sure it was heard. The prey turned towards it quickly pulling out a weapon of their own. The Tracker quickly charged its prey, going low to try to trip them. The demon jumped, turning quickly to the tracker. However, they quickly found two things. First was a sudden pain in their ankle, looking down they found a bear trap clamped around their leg. The second they found when they looked up, was a gun. Aimed directly at their head.

“…grab the rope.” The Hunter had ordered. “Our client needs them alive.”

"Will do!" said the tracker, quickly running for the rope it stashed in a nearby tree. Bringing it back, it hog-tied the demon.

“Great, now let’s get going. We don’t need them to call their friends.” The Hunter said, hauling the demon over their shoulder and starting to walk back to the mansion.

The tracker quickly followed, knocking on the door of the mansion when they arrived. Toby had opened the door for them, instructing them on where The Slenderman was.

The demon struggled, screeching louder as the group approached the office.

The demon was thrown on the floor in front of the tall, faceless man. The Hunter and Tracker are in front of him. The mission had gone smoothly, though it took a bit long.

“Sorry for the wait, they were a bit of a hassle.” The Hunter said apologetically, they put a hand over their bicep wincing slightly. “Put up a bit of a fight too.”

"Meant they were fun to play with though!" The Tracker addressed the tall man with a nod, before sitting on a chair beside the counter.The Hunter nodded. “Now, about that agreement..” They had said, not mentioning it until now. ”Indeed.” The tall man had agreed.

The fox looked at the two quizzically, tempted to ask if it should leave the room.

The tall man had turned his head slightly to look at The Tracker. ”Your mentor and I have agreed on letting you stay here at the mansion for a couple of weeks, they shall be staying with you, of course.” The Tracker looked to its boss before turning its head to the faceless man. "Is there any catch here?" It said jokingly, wondering what the reasons behind this visit were.

”You’ll be training my proxies. In your 300 or more years of life, and because of your mentor, I’m sure you’ll have experience.” The man explained.

"Ahhhhh I see," a smile appeared on the fox's still masked face. "How rough do you need me to be on 'em? Any specifics you need me to teach 'em? Loyalty? Fighting? Defense?" It questioned, excited for the new opportunity.

“Slow down, little fox.” The Hunter chuckled softly. “You’ll have to get to know them each in a battle to know what they need.”

Its head flicked to the Hunter. "Oh so, one-on-one training? I get to study them?" it let out a small snicker before readjusting its position on the chair. It temporarily stopped to look at Toby, who had been standing against the entrance wall. Toby could feel the slightly sinister grin it was giving him.

”In a way, your mentor will be watching to make sure that there will be no…interruptions.” The man had said in a slightly staticky tone. The Hunter nodded.

"Are there any possible 'interruptions' I should be aware of?" It wondered whether it should be concerned or excited.

”Well, I am aware that you seem to grow attached. Your feelings get in the way, so if they were to interrupt your training…I might have it just be you instead of you AND your mentor. Sound fair?” The man threatened, standing to full height.The smaller of the four gave a small sound of disappointment before responding. "I suppose that sounds fair, as long as The Hunter is safe I'll agree to this deal," it said, reaching out a hand absentmindedly.

”Wonderful, you’ll start tomorrow.” The man agreed, shaking the smaller one’s hand. In doing so, called the other two proxies to the office.

Toby stood up as the others approached. The fox retracted its hand, and stood from its seat, putting the chair back in its original spot. "Does that mean we get to sleep here too?" it questioned, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it out loud for reassurance.

”Indeed, your rooms should be on the third floor.” The man directed. “You called, ‘Boss’?” A voice had interrupted, it was the man who had answered the door before.The Tracker's eyes had landed on the masked man with the hoodie over his head, before snapping back to Slender to hear the instructions for his proxies. These were going to be some very fun weeks.

(A/N: So sorry for the wait!! We were bit busy with school starting. :]]]]] -Phrog

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta oc #masky and hoody #ticci toby #slenderverse #slender family #slenderman #fanfiction #fanfic

[anosci]

(31-45 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4])

names and thoughts below cut

31/ Atom™ – Hard Disk Rock (Don't Stop) (2000) minimal electro? fun beats :)

---

32/ Bund Deutscher Programmierer - Stoffwechsel (2000) crispy :) there are a few questionable decisions (why are we playing an entire samba(?) song at +3 octaves?). but overall this is the atomtm beats i enjoy. alias those chords aw yea

---

33/ Icarus - Squid Ink (2001) light breaks… light guitar. lots of light and dry sounds. soft glitches. is this squarepusher inspired? I'd believe it.

---

34/ Bolz Bolz - Human Race (2001) raw sound! the title track was…… meh but beyond that, it had really solid vibe. "Soul" and "Ballooning" stand out as surprisingly strong atmospheric-beat tracks. the latter could fit in frank klepacki's hands. good stuff

---

35/ Santos - R U Shakadelic? (2001) filled with rough edges. little dissonances and odd mixing. it's often a bit offputting. but also… there's plenty of rad filterwork and general bangers here

---

36/ Telefon Tel Aviv - Fahrenheit Fair Enough (2001) there are a few details that can REALLY elevate chillout beats and one of those is having tiny crackly stuttery percussive elements. this pulls that off. its a treat.

---

37/ Santa Muerte - Eslabon (2023) sometimes i listen to a song and solemnly nod my head in approval, not particularly enraptured by the song but not rejecting anything I hear either. … so yea it's ok. I feel like I need to give this a second listen with headphones.

---

38/ Skrillex - Quest For Fire (2023) new skrilex?? (!!!!) …the number of features here is alarming to me. i braced for a mixed bag but it's filled with good, to my taste! for the most part! especially the joker feature HOLY SHIT

---

39/ Junipher Greene - Friendship (1971) MAN i wish i were less picky about vocals. because there are a few unassailable bangers on here, but im struggling to enjoy them. "Take the Road Across the Bridge" is a huge standout, even with the vocals. "Try to Understand" tho… i love that flute :(

---

40/ Skrillex - Don’t Get Too Close (2023) this is exactly what I was afraid that the first album would be like :\ it'd not "bad", it's just not for me

---

41/ Orbital - The New Abnormal (2023) lots of little oddities here. still plenty of shine though. the highlights feel like just enough to harken to my fav classics without feeling like rehashes.

---

42/ Emerson, Lake & Palmer - Brain Salad Surgery (1973) so why am i fine with these vocals? that aside, it's a really fun sound in here. no wonder it's considered iconic. i can hear uematsu being inspired in real time.

---

43/ Stacey Pullen - todayisthetomorrowyouwerepromisedyesterday (2001) breaks and synths. exactly dry enough. high quality music to drive to. I'd like to specifically highlight "tiznit" for its funky lean.

---

44/ Quantic - The 5th Exotic (2001) it alternates between "nice boombap :)" and "man i am just not feeling this". it does best when its that kinda… somber chill chords on top of beats ig? "The Picture Inside" is strange bc it stands far above the rest of the album. eh……..

---

45/ Praful - One Day Deep (2001) vibessss this excels when its chillout + breaks… AND synths. the acid feel (Morphic Resonance) especially appeals to me but just a bit of swirling pads is cool too

---

#media thread

[gloryofluv]

How do you think the brothers would react to walking into MC’s room after looking for them to find them lying on bed, headphones in with a full face mask on? I’m talking cucumber slices on the eyes the whole deal. (Obviously Beel is gonna eat the cucumber but hey 😅)

Ah, thanks anon for a fun one! Self care is soooo important! Makes me want to go do a face mask now. Especially if my favorite boys are going to be there.

The Brothers Walking in on MC Enjoying a Face Mask and Self Care

Lucifer-

Busy demon boy. He knocks but is a bit concerned when he doesn’t hear an answer. Actually, a bit perturbed, if we’re honest! (Solely believes you should definitely answer him at whatever time he spends the time to do a welfare check)

Stops at the door when he sees MC lounging on their bed. Amused. Amusement turns to warm fuzzies. There they are, the affliction of his wounded heart, relaxing and listening to music, completely oblivious to watchful eyes.

The face mask even adds a pleasant smell to the room. Well, well, aren’t they a gorgeous, flawed mess? Won’t admit to wanting to encourage this in his personal space. Most certainly won’t confess to wanting to slurp up the peaceful energy of said self-care either.

Instead, he slips into the kitchen, being positive to not being seen. He prepares a relaxing herbal tea that always refreshes him on the off chance of a moment of peace. Once that is brewed to perfection, he will, with deadly silence, sneak into MC’s room and set the cup down.

They manage to peel the cucumbers off just before watching his silent escape. The warm tea is steaming next to them on the night table.

Cute. Stalkery, but cute.

"I enjoy thoroughly that you don't need to be instructed to take care of yourself."

Mammon-

Never knocks. Don’t expect it now. Even after he heard Asmo gave MC an excellent something or other to have some personal time. MC’s time is his time.

He barges into the room with his usual bravado, to note that MC hadn’t even commented. He glances over to see this goopy mess with cucumbers and a towel around their hair. Ugh. Asmo has them into that stupid self-care crap he’s been shoving!

Pouty boy. Wants attention and their attention to be real. He slumps on the bed and removes a cucumber from MC’s eyes. Starts talking regardless of if MC can hear. Then blames MC for not paying attention when they take off their headphones.

Starts a nonsense conversation. Doesn’t care about the topic, but he will continue it as long as MC gives him attention. Will be a blushing mess if MC asks if he wants them to do a mask for him.

Mammon snorts and deflects about that being Asmo’s thing. However, if MC offers to do the whole pampering effect that comes with the face mask… well, he might, ya know, be alright, maybe? Blushy blushy mess.

MC kisses his cheek, and he’s done for, even if he jumps up and spits out about it being gross and crackly from the mask. Has to leave. Cuteness overload. Poor baby boi doesn’t know how to handle soft feelings so well.

“Yeah, well, I gotta go. Maybe when you clean that crap off, you can come to my room. We’ll do something, ya know, together?”

Levi-

Knocks twice. Pissed MC didn’t answer. Glances in and blinks. Oh, they looked so peaceful. Is that the Rui-chan plushie he gave them? Oh, MC is tugging at his heart like an anime trope!

Slides inside and debates on bothering them. Just wants to admire MC a moment while he’s blushing and his brain is sputtering. MC had the plushie against their chest while relaxing on the bed.

Fiddles with his fingers and knows he should leave but likes this. A lot. Wants no one else to bother them. This moment is his. Cute. MC is a cute, adorable anime story waiting to be told. The only thing missing…

MC shifts and peels off a cucumber to reach for the boba tea he bought them earlier. Cue, nervous, mortified otaku!

However, MC doesn’t get upset and waves before taking off their headphones. They say they were just enjoying the TSL soundtrack. Even more blushing??! He can’t handle it and covers his face.

Sputtering about some streaming he needed to do, he tells them not to forget to meet him after dinner for their friendship dailies! Runs, not walks, out of the room.

Clutches his heart the whole way up the stairs and even hides his face from Mammon as he passes him on the stairs. It was just like that anime. I fell in love with a witch, and she didn’t even realize it because I can’t speak. The scene was remarkably similar.

“Ah, yeah, well, I just wanted t-to be sure you’re still coming t-tonight. You are right? I mean, I don’t want to bother you with it, y-yeah?”

Satan-

Knocks three times. Patiently waits. Until he’s not patient. Not happy to be ignored without even a response as to why MC isn’t answering.

Opens the door to see MC on their bed in a face mask. Aww, that’s cute. He likes cute things, and MC is equated to a cat sunbathing in a window. Walks over and touches MC’s shoulder.

MC jerks, but as the cucumber is removed, they smile and pat the bed. He is so pleased. Sitting down toward the center of the mattress, he assists MC to relax against his lap. Without removing their headphones, they comply.

He then opens his book and begins to read while removing the towel around MC’s hair. Ah, yes, this was peaceful and relaxing in so many ways. He was able to stroke MC’s hair and read with them while they indulged in self-care.

Perfection. He even offers to help them clean their face. Sweet little nerd. Knows why self-care is so important and relishes that MC doesn't mind his presence while doing so.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I thoroughly enjoy it when you take care of yourself. It makes me want to take care of you more.”

Asmo-

Barges in. Knows exactly what they're doing when he sees MC. Actually, knows it’s a great idea and skips up to his bathroom for his face mask! Has it prepped and ready to go with his own set of cucumbers.

Races into the room and tucks onto the bed next to MC. They remove the cucumbers and smile with a nod before taking off their headphones. He is so happy! Place the cucumbers on his own eyes.

Talk. Real talk, honey. Will go on about his Devilgram, what he saw at RAD, and even his brothers. All of it is light and airy. No bitching in a pamper session. This is all about that dopamine and good feels.

Insists that they continue with this pamper session with massages and manicures. Won’t mind at all if MC says they want to start doing this weekly. He is there, baby!

It becomes routine, and no one is going to disturb them! Encourages MC to try different masks and will be the guru of making them look as great as they make him feel! Expect cuddles and lots of kisses after the mask comes off!

“Oh! I’m so happy you want to do this! If we can do a whole session instead of just the mask, I will make you feel almost as great as I look!”

Beel-

Hungry boi. Wants to invite MC out for a snack, but no answer to his knocking? Are they alright? He saw them go into their room earlier.

He walks in to see MC on the bed, headphones on, and a mud mask? That’s what Asmo calls them, right? It smells waaaay too good to be mud. Walks over and eyes MC with confused interest.

Had no idea they liked putting food on their face. Food. Sits down on the bed and grabs one of the cucumbers. Tastes just like the sweetness of MC and food. Loves it.

MC smiles and hands him the other before taking off their headphones. Happy boi asks what they’re doing. They answer with a simple answer of self-care. The long day at RAD made them feel tired.

Asks if the mask is edible, to which MC replies and laughing negative. Oh, that makes no sense. It smells good. They offer to do a mask for him but doubt he’d be able to not eat it.

He laughs and nods before asking if they were almost done. He now has a craving for ice cream and maybe a half-dozen of burgers. MC sits up and kisses his cheek before nodding.

He is glowing with happiness and kisses their masked cheek. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help it and licks their face. Definitely doesn’t taste as great as it smells. MC laughs and pats his shoulder, saying they’ll be out in a few minutes so they can get a snack.

“You always taste good, but that mud doesn’t. You still look cute.”

Belphie-

Not a knocker. Doesn’t care to knock. MC is his human, and love knows no bounds. That includes doors.

Walks in to see MC on the bed with headphones and a mask. Cute. Adorable. Cuddly. Now his whole plan of going to the attic is out the window.

Slumps on the bed and buries his face in MC’s chest. Looks up to see they peel a cucumber off to see it’s him and smiles. Thump. Thump. His heart is growing by the second.

MC sighs and starts running their fingers through his hair after placing the cucumber back on their eye. Happy, sleepy boi. Cuddles closer and nuzzles with the equivalent of a sadistic sleepy cat.

MC has to beg him to let them go so they can remove it. He pouts and waits for them to return, only to entrap them in his arms and claim they smell too good to let go, and they feel so peaceful. Time for a nap.

“I love that you smell so wonderful and refreshing. Next time tell me when you’re going to do this so I can enjoy the whole thing.”

#obey me fandom #om! headcanons #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me fluff

[athenasbloodyspear]

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

Chapter 6 - Talk on the Street

Chapter Warnings: swearing, alcohol, marijuana use (i think that's it?) 

This is for @st-brigids-brew the love of my life. And also for the lovely anon’s who check in on me. You’re lovely and I’m so grateful to have these connections in my life. xoxo

Read on Ao3 | Masterlist  

Maven woke to the soft rumble of her phone on her nightstand. She flopped over and buried her face in her pillows, groaning as the movement rattled her swollen brain in her head. God she was gonna kill Samuel Kiszka whenever she got the energy. 

Then her phone started vibrating again, sustained this time so she could tell it was a phone call. She heaved herself back over, trying to breathe evenly to settle her nauseous stomach. She stretched her arm as far as it could go, not lifting her head from her pillows, and just managed to snag the edge of her phone with the tips of her fingers. She pulled it towards herself, not even glancing at the screen before swiping it to connect the call. 

“Hello?” She muttered, her voice crackly with sleep. She flinched at the sound of it in her quiet bedroom. On the other end of the line she heard a low chuckle, and then a soft voice. 

“Morning sleepy head.” 

Jake. 

“Or should I say afternoon. It is one pm after all.”

Maven groaned, the pounding of her heart sped up to match the pounding in her skull. Jake just laughed softly on the other line again. “Still in bed I take it?” Maven chose to groan in response again. “Do you think you have enough energy to at least open your front door?” 

Maven sat up quickly in bed, momentarily forgetting that her head was spinning and her stomach was roiling, because if Jake was really outside her door right now there was no way she could open it. Her breath smelled horrific, her hair was a rat's nest and she wasn’t wearing any pants. 

Wait shit. Maven suddenly had the realization that if she wasn’t wearing pants, she must have changed at some point while Jake was in her house. Right? Things were a tad fuzzy from the night before, only small snippets piecing together. She knew she rode in the front with him on the way home, she has a feeling he gave her a piggyback inside. She feels like she remembers him being here when she fell asleep, but beyond the fact that she knows he brought her home, she can’t remember much else once they got to her apartment. 

“I take it by the lack of response you’re concerned about your current state. But I promise opening the door will be worth it.” Jake murmured into the phone. “We’ll be right here, take a couple minutes to yourself if you want, but not too long or your sandwich will get cold.” 

“Give me one sec.” She croaked into the phone, tossing the covers off herself and standing quickly, shouldering through the increased pounding in her skull and sudden dizziness. 

“Take your time, Mave.” Jake hung up. 

Okay, priority one is brushing teeth and deodorant. After that we assess the face. 

Outside her front door, Sam was raising an eyebrow at Jake as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Josh sat on the floor, his back against Maven’s front door and Danny was leaning against the wall next to it. Sam and Jake were standing by Josh’s feet, facing each other. Jake gave Sam a puzzled look back. “What is it this time?” 

“Mave?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows. 

“What? She said she liked the nickname.” 

“Oh I’m sure she does.” 

“I swear to god Samuel…” 

“Oh we’re using the full name this morning.” 

“Sam, leave him alone.” Josh finally spoke up. “Until we get sandwiches in our bodies at least.” 

Sam turned toward Danny who shifted the drink carrier he held in front of him like a shield. “Don’t look at me dude.” 

Sammy just rolled his eyes and huffed. “Fine. You people are no fun.” 

Just then the door to Maven’s apartment popped open and Josh went careening backward. He ended up lying down on the ground looking up at her. Her eyes only half open, her hair in a messy bun tossed on the top of her head, her t-shirt and tiny shorts rumpled. All four boys smiled at her, but she just narrowed her eyes at Sam. Sam quickly held up a finger. “Wait, before you kill me, I brought a peace offering.” He dug around in the pocket of his shorts for a moment before producing a joint and holding it out to her. Maven kept her eyes narrowed, but snatched it out of Sam’s hand before turning and walking into her apartment, leaving the door open behind her. Danny helped Josh up off the floor before all four sauntered into her place. 

Jake had seen it the night before, of course, but the rest of the boys gaped around at all the things on the walls and shelves. Stacy beelined straight for Sammy, wiggling uncontrollably as he crouched down to let her lick his face. Jake headed straight toward where Maven sat curled on the couch, her hand cupped around the end of the joint as she lit it. He watched as she sucked in a huge drag, releasing the smoke slowly, and then another. After her third large hit, he chuckled, digging into the plastic bag he held and fishing out a messy bacon, egg and cheese, extending his hand toward her. “Trade yah?” 

Maven nodded. She held out the joint with one hand, while snagging the sandwich with the other. She felt an electric shock run up her arm when Jake’s fingers momentarily tangled with hers, taking the joint out of her hand and putting it directly to his lips. She watched him take a drag, their eyes on each other the whole time. The whole world stood still. She felt the warmth of the breakfast sandwich in her lap, as well as the heat radiating from where her knees touched the side of Jake’s thigh. 

Maybe she was hungover, maybe she was high, maybe she would finally admit to herself she was drawn toward Jake against her better judgement, but her whole body started to tingle as she watched him purse his lips and slowly exhale a wisp of smoke. 

Her momentary brain freeze broke when Josh’s hand reached into her line of sight, snagging the joint out of Jake’s hand, accompanied by a sassy “I’ll take that, thank you.” 

She immediately looked down at her hands, fiddling with opening the sandwich wrapper and picking up the mess of biscuit and cheese in her lap. She took a huge bite, groaning a bit as the taste of bacon exploded across her mouth. She had underestimated just how much she needed flavor in her mouth, the staleness of a hangover finally being replaced by delicious. 

Jake was happy she seemed to like her sandwich, but if she kept moaning like that every time she took a bite he was going to have to excuse himself from the premises before anyone noticed how much it affected him. 

“We also brought you one of these.” Danny said, crossing the room with the drink carrier they’d brought in his hands, pulling out two Styrofoam cups and setting them on the table next to Maven. Maven grabbed one, sensing the hot liquid and immediately ripping open the lid and chugging half of the piping hot coffee in one go. The boys laughed at her but she just flipped them off, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and setting the coffee back on the table. The other cup was cold, which threw her off until she popped open the lid and spotted tomato juice. “Ugh, my favorite.” She moaned, chugging a huge gulp of the bloody mary before setting it back down to dig back into her sandwich. 

“Hair of the dog baby!” Josh exclaimed. Jake was glad someone said something because all this moaning Maven was doing was short circuiting his brain. He snagged his coffee out of the carrier and took a few sips, hoping it would get him back in order. 

“Thank you for bringing me back from the dead.” Maven remarked around bites of sandwich. 

“It’s the least we could do.” Sammy piped up, munching on a breakfast sandwich of his own. 

Maven wasn’t sure what possessed her to do what she did next, but she’d blame it on the hangover and her lack of ability to think straight. She leaned over toward Jake and laid her head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath before muttering. “You guys are the best.” 

Jake wasn’t sure how he got the nerve, but he tilted his head over to rest on top of Maven’s and said. “Anything for you.” 

Danny, Josh and Sam all exchanged looks, none of them moving for fear of disturbing this moment in front of them. Josh had frozen with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, Danny and Sam were in a stationary tableau, passing the joint between them. 

After a breath, Maven picked her head back up and everyone tried to resume their normal behavior as she said. “Do you guys still wanna go to that pinball bar with me?” 

“Fuck yeah.” Sam said. 

Maven shoved the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth. “Let me shower quick, and then we can go? A mid afternoon beer sounds great right now.” 

“Take your time.” Jake said. 

“We’re gonna definitely look at your albums while you’re gone and judge you though.” Josh said playfully, winking at Maven, who rolled her eyes as she walked toward her bedroom. 

Sam and Josh made a show of walking over to Maven’s table with her vinyl's, leafing through them until they heard the door of her bathroom click and the shower turn on. Then they both whipped around to look at Jake with huge smiles. 

“Dude!” They both said in unison. 

Danny threw his head back and laughed. “You know, sometimes I wonder which of you three are actually twins.” 

“Don’t start.” Jake muttered, sucking down the last of his coffee and standing to pick up trash, heading toward the kitchen. 

“Are you seriously not going to do anything about this?” Sam asked, following Jake into the kitchen and putting his hands on his hips. “You’re going to be totally fine if some other person decides to go for her?”  

“Yeah. It’s whatever dude.” Jake muttered. 

Jake didn’t see the look that Sam and Josh tossed at each other behind his back, but Danny did. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“You’re so going to regret that.” Sam muttered deviously.

                                                         ~0~

After Maven had scrubbed the previous night off herself, thrown on her favorite red pants and another ragged band t-shirt, shoved her feet into her doc martens and given Stacy a bully stick and a smooch on the head, they were off. 

The Coin Slot was a particular favorite of Maven’s in Traverse City. The walls were lined with pinball machines of different themes. There were Jurassic Park, Marvel, Star Trek and even Rick and Morty pinball machines. They had Pac-Man, Donkey Kong and all the classic old arcade games too. However, Maven’s favorite part was the beer selection. They had fridge after fridge filled with as many craft beers as you could imagine. There were beers here that she was convinced you couldn’t get anywhere else. 

After selecting a particular favorite, a tangerine gose, and exchanging more money than she should have spent into quarters, they all set out to play ridiculous arcade games. She beelined straight for the vintage Star Wars pinball machine, which was her favorite. Sammy followed her and leaned up against the side of the machine, smirking at her. 

“You a Luke or a Han girl?” Sammy asked. 

Maven returned his smirk. “Vader.” 

“Should have known. You’re a doc martens girl.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Samuel?” 

Sammy held his hands up in front of him. “Nothing! Just that you being an Anakin girl tracks.” Maven just narrowed her eyes at him and stuck out her tongue. 

She slid her coin in the machine and launched the ball, watching it ricochet around a bit. She managed to keep it going for a minute or so, but inevitably the ball slipped past the bumpers. 

“Damn.” She muttered. Sammy laughed. “Don’t laugh at me dude, this shit is kinda hard.” 

“Let me try.” Sam responded, trading places with her. She picked up her beer from the cupholder on the pinball machine and took a long gulp. Rolling her eyes when Sam continued. “Watch a master work.” 

He wasn’t kidding. He was weirdly good at pinball and it was kind of pissing her off. He managed to keep it in play for at least three times as long as she did. “How the hell did you do that?” 

“Bass fingers.” Sam responded, wiggling his fingers and eyebrows at her suggestively. 

Maven flushed red and giggled at him. “Whatever.” 

“Here, want me to show you?” Sam murmured. 

Maven choked a bit on the sip of beer she was taking. “What?” 

“C’mere.” Sam grabbed her right wrist and tugged gently, pulling her to stand in front of the pinball machine. Then he stepped up behind her, their torsos flush. Sam took her beer, placing it back in the cupholder. Then he grabbed her hands and placed them on the bumper controls. Both of their bodies were aligned, arms along one another, the pads of his fingers pressed against the backs of hers. 

Maven felt like she was flushing from head to toe. “What are you doing?” She whispered breathlessly, trying to maintain her composure. 

Sammy gently reached up with his right hand and tucked Maven’s long hair behind her right ear before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Trying to get his attention.” He murmured softly. 

“What?” Maven squeaked. She couldn’t seem to get any air in her lungs. 

“Do you trust me?” Sam had turned his head slightly, so that the tip of his nose brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Yes.” Maven whispered. 

“Relax. Have fun. I’ll do the rest.” 

Maven didn’t want to think too hard about what he meant by that. She didn’t want to think too hard about who the ‘he’ in question might be and why Sammy was trying to get his attention. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. She didn’t want to start thinking about the impossible. 

So she decided to trust him. 

Maven took a deep breath and relaxed against Sammy’s chest. She could relax and have fun. He was Sam. It was easy to do. 

“There you go.” He whispered. “Now let’s beat the high score.” 

Meanwhile… 

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Danny asked Josh, as he was busy trying to not be killed by ghosts in Pac Man. Josh was sucking down a canned Paloma with a straw, only half paying attention to Danny's progress. The other half of his attention was split between where Sammy had draped himself over Maven, and his twin who had stormed outside “for a smoke.” 

“Not particularly. But it’s a fun idea.” Josh quipped. 

Danny pounded his fist on the machine when a ghost finally caught up to him, before turning to Josh. “Wouldn’t this be better if Jake figured this out on his own?” 

“Daniel, do you think Jake would actually do anything without a little push?” 

Danny sighed, glancing out the front window at where Jake stood smoking a cigarette, toeing the gravel with his boots. He just shook his head. Josh smacked him on the back and continued. “Let’s get you another beer. Then you can enjoy the show with me.”  

As the two of them walked toward the counter to order more drinks, Jake tossed his cigarette butt in the trash and stalked back inside. He pushed his way between Josh and Danny and asked the bartender for a canned whiskey ginger. Josh and Danny shared slightly amused looks at Jake’s furrowed brows, and the way he kept glancing towards the pinball machines, where Maven and Sam were laughing hysterically, tangled up together. Jake cracked open the top of his cocktail can when they heard Maven shriek. 

“Oh my god! We did it!” 

They all looked up and watched her spin in Sam’s arms, flinging her arms around his neck and jumping up and down excitedly. “Holy fuck, Sam!” 

Sam was laughing, and when he saw his brother looking at him out of the corner of his eye, he wrapped his arms around Maven’s waist and picked her up, spinning her in a circle before setting her on her feet and looking down at her. “Of course we did.” 

Jake’s feet were moving before he even realized. 

“Hey Sam, will you come outside and help me order lunch for everyone from the food trucks?” Jake bit out. Maven flushed red, pulling down the hem of her shirt self consciously before snagging her beer again and chugging the rest. Sam just threw him a cocky grin. “Sure thing” before he turned to Maven. “Alright gorgeous, go grab another beer to celebrate. We’ll be outside.” 

Jake turned and stalked out of the bar. He felt like he was suffocating. The way Maven’s cheeks had gone red. The unabashed glee in her face when they won the pinball game. It was like agony to watch, she was so beautiful. He simultaneously wanted to bash his little brother's teeth in, and give him a huge hug for making her so happy. 

He really was losing his mind. 

The door clanged shut behind him as Sam emerged. 

“So, Jakey, couldn’t just order lunch for everyone yourself?” 

Jake spun on his heel. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Luckily the outside seating area with food trucks was relatively empty, because there was no hiding the rage in Jake’s voice. 

Sam didn’t answer immediately, instead the corner of his lip curved up a little. After a beat he finally snarked. “Whatever do you mean, brother?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. What. The. Fuck.” Jake bit out. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks, uncontrolled. His fists were clenched at his sides and he felt like he was vibrating from the inside out. 

“I’m still confused.” Sam retorted, theatrically placing his pointer finger at the corner of his mouth in a thinking pose. “If I remember correctly you said ‘yeah’ when asked if you’d be okay if someone else went after Maven. This looks like the opposite of that.” 

“It’s because when I said that I didn’t think it’d be you going after her.” Jake grit out between his teeth. 

“You’d rather it be some other skeevy dude?” Sam asked. Jake went blind with rage. He just grit his teeth harder and stared at his feet. He couldn’t even entertain the thought of another guy like Mason getting involved with Maven. She was too good. Too kind. Too open minded. Too strong. Too perfect. 

“Thought so.” Sam quipped, bumping into Jake’s shoulder as he walked up to the vegan food truck to order lunch. 

Jake stayed still, his back to Sam as he tried to get his breathing under control. When the door swung open again, he lifted his head and locked eyes with Maven. When her lips tilted up into a hesitant smile, all the rage rushed out of his body. He flushed for a different reason then, his lips twitching into a matching small smile. Maven silently walked down the few steps onto the gravel lot and stopped in front of him. “You okay?” She murmured. 

“Yes.” Jake said automatically. “Congrats on the high score by the way.” 

She flushed. “Oh, thank you. I couldn’t have done it without Sam.” 

Sam had sauntered back up to them, and he threw his arm around her shoulder, proudly exclaiming “We make a great team.” He gave Jake a pointed look. 

“Anyone need anything from inside? I’m going to go grab my drink.” Jake asked, his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m good.” Maven said, indicating her new full beer. 

“I’ll take another one of these.” Sam said, holding up his empty seltzer can. 

“Pick a table, I’ll get those two idiots out here.” Jake said, scuffing his feet as he walked inside. 

Maven spun to look at Sam, wringing her hands in front of her and biting the corner of her lip. “He seems upset.” 

“Do you still trust me?” Sam asked again. Maven nodded in response, glancing at the door that Jake disappeared through. “It’ll work out, I promise.” 

Once Jake had his cocktail and a fresh seltzer for Sam he walked toward where Josh and Danny stood. Danny was playing a round on the Star Trek pinball machine, and Josh was on his third Paloma, humming along to the music playing in the bar. “We’re going to eat outside.” 

“Jake, do something.” Josh replied. 

“What?” 

“Do something.” Josh said again, patting his twin on the shoulder twice before meandering outside toward the picnic table that Sam and Maven had chosen for lunch. 

Jake and Danny stared at each other for a moment before Jake whispered. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Danny smiled at him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit dude.” 

They both walked outside together, and when Maven looked up from the table and smiled at Jake, he made the decision. 

He was gonna do something. 

                                                            ~0~

“So how’s the album coming?” Maven asked around a mouthful of french fries. 

“Great!” Josh exclaimed. “We’re about halfway I think.” 

Maven swallowed and then let her jaw pop open. “What? For real? Oh my god you guys didn’t tell me. We need to celebrate!” All four made sounds of agreement around their bites of food. “What’s something you guys want to do that you haven’t really yet?”

Everyone hummed in contemplation as they looked around at each other. “We could go camping?” Danny suggested. “We haven’t gotten fully lost in the wilderness lately.” 

Maven sat up straight and clapped her hands together. “That sounds so fun! Any places around here you wanna go?” 

“Where’s your favorite place?” Jake asked, locking eyes with Maven where she sat to his right. She flushed and Jake couldn’t help the grin on his face as she dropped her eyes back to her rice bowl. 

“Oh! Uh… There’s so many good ones.” 

“You must have a favorite.” Jake said. “Wherever it is, that’s where I want to go.” 

“I mean…” Maven muttered. “It’s a little farther out, but we could do Munising? Like Pictured Rocks and stuff?”

“Deal.” Jake said. “Think Levi will spare you a few days?” 

“Probably. Especially if I leave Stacy with him for company.” 

Josh clapped his hands together. “The gang goes camping. Very exciting.” He stood. “I need another drink. Anyone want one?” 

Sammy raised his hand as Jake muttered. “Slow down cowboy.” 

“Hey, we’re celebrating.” Josh retorted, before wandering inside to get another Paloma. 

“He’s not going to remember to order me one.” Sam said. “Come on Dan! I’m gonna kick your ass in Galaga.” Sam grabbed onto Danny’s bicep and dragged him up from his seat. Danny reluctantly went with Sam, sandwich still in hand. 

Maven and Jake eat a few more bites in comfortable silence before Maven pushes her sandwich and fries away from her. “Okay I can’t eat another bite.” Jake smiles, grabbing her sandwich out of her tray and finishing it. Maven leans forward at the table, propping her elbow up and resting her cheek on her palm, watching Jake. 

“What do you want to do now?” Jake asks after he finishes swallowing. 

“I really don’t think I should drink anymore. My liver is screaming at me.” 

“Probably a good idea.” Jake murmured. He knocks his knee against Maven’s under the table. “Wanna go for a walk? Wander around downtown a bit?” 

“Sure.” Maven smiles. 

“Cool.” Jake says, standing up with their tray of trash to throw away. Once he tossed everything he quickly whips out his phone and shoots a text to the three boys. 

DOING SOMETHING. DON’T WAIT FOR US. 

Neither Jake or Maven see Josh, Sam and Danny clink their beers together in celebration as they head around the corner and down the street. 

                                                        ~0~

“Oh my god. He did not.” Maven was struggling to get words out between her laughter. Jake had been recounting a few tales of brotherly shenanigans from their youths as they walked that had her in stitches. “Sammy is hilarious.” She wiped the corner of her eye as a tear leaked out. 

Jake walked next to her, his hands in his pockets, stealing glances at Maven out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah…” He trailed off. “You two looked like you were having fun today.” Jake tried to keep his animosity out of his voice. He succeeded… somewhat. 

Maven glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she slid her hands in the back pocket of her pants. “Yeah… he’s something else alright.” 

“I’m glad.” Jake said then, sincerely. Maven just looked at him, a confused expression on her face. “That you’re having fun. That we’re all having fun together.” 

Maven smiled. “Yeah. Me too.” 

Jake flushed a bit at the soft tone in her voice. “I’m really excited to go camping.” He choked out, trying to distract from the fact that his face seemed to be permanently the shade of tomato around her. 

“Oh my gosh” She gushed. “It’s going to be a blast. I haven’t gone up there in forever. It’s so beautiful Jake. Seriously, like my favorite place on earth.” 

“I’m excited to see it with you.” Jake responded. 

“Wait oh my god.” Maven stopped Jake with a hand on his upper arm. “Can we go in here? I need some more incense.” 

Jake looked up and saw the sign for Higher Self bookstore. “Of course.” He responded, pulling open the front door for her. As they stepped through the threshold the strong smell of essential oils and incense hit them. The store was full of crystals, incense and books. Maven greeted the sales worker and inquired about their children as Jake started to wander the store. He perused the books for a while, occasionally opening them and flipping through the pages before setting it back down. He inspected the tarot cards for a bit, admiring specifically the packs that had been designed by local artists. He circled back toward Maven, who was wandering the crystal aisles. Right before he caught up with her, a bracelet hanging on a rack caught his eye. 

It was a bracelet of a series of small polished stones. There were green and brown hues mixed together in a kaleidoscope of colors. He was drawn to it immediately. He reached a hand out tentatively to touch it. 

“It’s Moss agate.” The sales person spoke up. “It’s known for healing the heart, grounding oneself and is generally known as a good luck charm. It helps you attract what you want.” 

Jake looked up and across the aisle he locked eyes with Maven. His breath caught in his throat. The same greens and browns that swirled through the bracelet were staring back at him. The bracelet matched her perfectly. 

Healing the heart. 

Grounding. 

Attract what you want. 

“Are you going to get it?” Maven asked softly from across the room. 

Jake couldn’t speak with his heart racing like this, so he simply nodded. Snagging the bracelet off the shelf and walking to the counter. He couldn’t speak as he paid for his bracelet and Maven purchased a stack of incense. He took a deep breath once they had finally made it out the front door. 

“Do you want to put it on?” Maven inquired, stopping his forward momentum again with the soft touch of her hand. 

“Sure.” Jake responded. Maven had slipped the box into her bag, but she pulled it out and opened it. In a moment of boldness, she snagged Jake’s right wrist and gently slid the bracelet on him, next to a braided one that he always had on. Jake’s arms got goosebumps as her fingers dragged softly over his wrist. She held his hand a bit longer, pretending to inspect the bracelet as cover. 

“It’s really pretty.” Maven murmured. 

“It is.” Jake replied. If Maven had lifted her head, she would have seen that he wasn’t even looking at the bracelet. His eyes were on her. 

“Oh my god, are you Jake Kiszka?” An excited voice squealed. 

Maven dropped his wrist like she’d been burned and stepped away from him. Jake tore his gaze from where Maven looked at her feet and took in the group of three girls standing a few feet away from them. 

“Uh. Yeah?” He replied. 

“Oh my god.” The girl exclaimed again. “Sorry, we’re huge fans. Can we take a picture?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” Jake said. He resisted the urge to move closer to Maven, and stepped over toward where the girls were standing. There was something in Maven’s closed off posture that made him want to say fuck it and drag her away from there. But the girls seemed nice, so he’d take a picture and then they could be on their way. 

He posed for a few selfies as the girls gushed over the new album, telling him their favorite songs and asking if the other boys were in town. Jake answered their questions as genuinely, if not vaguely, as he could. 

As he said his goodbyes and turned back toward Maven, one of the girls spoke up. “We’re going to a show at The Edge tonight. In case you’re looking for something to do.” 

Jake instantly felt himself on edge at the insinuation in her voice. He was used to it. Fans wanting to hang out, to get closer to him, fans flirting. It normally didn’t bother him, but the way Maven turned even farther away from him made him nauseous. “I’ve got plans. Have fun!” He called. He crossed quickly to Maven, snagging her elbow and walking them in the opposite direction of the girls. 

Maven started speaking, all in a rush. “I’m so sorry. You can go back and talk with them! Do you want to go to that show? I don’t want to put you in a weird situation with your fans-” 

“Mave, stop.” Jake cut off her nervous rambling. “I want to spend time with you.” 

“Jake, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Jake asked incredulously.

“I shouldn’t really be out in public with you like this--” 

“Why the fuck not?” 

“People talk, Jake.”

“Let ‘em.” 

“You have a new album to think about promoting and--” 

Jake stepped in front Maven, halting their hurried forward momentum. “I don’t want to think about that right now. I want to walk downtown with you. Have fun. Can we do that?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Stop that.” 

“I don’t want to fuck anything up for you.” 

“You do the opposite of fucking things up.” 

“I’m s--” 

Jake grabbed Maven’s shoulders, forcing her to lock eyes with him. “I swear, if you apologize to me again I’m throwing you over my shoulder, marching down to the shore and tossing you in the lake.” 

Maven couldn’t help but giggle at his threat. Relief swept over him when he saw her smile. 

“Let’s have fun, okay?” Jake prompted gently. “That’s all I want.” 

“Okay.” Maven replied softly. 

“Come on.” Jake said, snagging Maven’s hand and pulling her into a clothing store. 

                                                       ~0~

They shopped around downtown for a few hours, spending the most time exploring the multi-level antique store. They’d tried on ridiculous old vintage clothing, giggling at all the 80’s taffeta dresses with giant shoulders that Maven had slid on. Then they’d found a section of old portrait paintings, and spent at least a half hour making up back stories for each. Jake walked out with a new hat and a few old vinyl's and Maven left with a few silk scarves for her to tie in her hair. The other boys had texted and were still at the Coin Slot, working their way through the pile of quarters so Jake and Maven started to head back toward them. 

Maven stopped in her tracks as they passed the window of a women’s boutique. There was a dress in the window that had literally made her jaw drop. 

The dress was a sage green velvet. The hemline was long, with a slit that ran up toward the thigh on one side. The neckline was slightly off the shoulder, with a sweetheart shape. It looked soft and luxurious and expensive. She didn’t need it, but she wanted it. 

“Oh my god.” She breathed. “It’s so pretty.” 

“Do you want to try it on?” Jake asked. 

“No. It’s okay.” Maven said reluctantly, tearing her gaze away from the window to walk away. As she turned, she suddenly felt Jake’s palm against hers for the second time that day, his fingers wrapped gently around hers. Her heart skipped a beat as he said. “Come on. You’re trying it on.” 

Maven followed, slightly dazed, as Jake pulled her into the boutique. 

“Hey! How’s it going? My friend would love to try on that dress you have in the window.” Jake said to the sales person. 

“Of course! It’s gorgeous isn't it?” They responded, walking up to the front window and pulling a dress from a rack. “This looks about your size honey. There’s a fitting room in the back, and a couch you can sit on.” 

Maven took the dress from the salesperson and walked back to the fitting room. Jake plopped down on the couch with their bags of purchases and sent a text to the boys to let them know they were on their way back. 

“Oh my god, Jake.” Maven sighed from behind the changing room curtain. “It’s so beautiful.” 

“Let me see.” Jake implored. He sensed her hesitation so he added a soft “Please.” For good measure. 

Maven pulled back the curtain to the changing room and Jake was glad he was sitting down because the sight of Maven in that dress would have knocked his legs out from under him had he been standing. 

She looked gorgeous. The dress hugged every curve, the slit that ended in the middle of her right thigh was going to haunt him for weeks. The green complimented her skin tone perfectly, and made her hazel eyes pop. He absentmindedly touched the bracelet on his wrist that had the same shade of green running through it. 

“Holy shit.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth. 

“I know right?” Maven turned around excitedly to face the mirror, smoothing her hands over her hips. Jake stood, stepping up behind her to see over her shoulder, his eyes glued to her in the mirror. He had to resist every impulse in his body not to run his hands over her sides. He wanted to feel the soft fabric on her skin, he wanted to push her hair over one shoulder and run his nose along her spine. He’d never felt like this before. This out of control, this weightless. He felt like he was floating. 

“You have to buy it.” Jake choked out, curling his hands into fists to keep them from attaching themselves to her hips. 

“I can’t.” Maven pouted, turning a bit to check out the back of the dress in the mirror. Jake was trying really hard not to be distracted by how the fabric stretched over her ass. His hands tingled again. 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t have any reason I would wear this.” She huffed out. 

“We’ll make a reason.” Jake spoke without hesitating. 

Maven let out a nervous giggle, facing forward again and catching Jake’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what?” 

Jake mustered up all his courage and said. “I’ll take you to dinner.” 

Maven didn’t speak for a moment, but Jake watched as a flush spread over her chest and up to her cheek bones. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how far that blush spread. He’d like to spend his life making her blush like that. 

“Jake you don’t have to--” 

“I want to.” He cut her off. He snagged her hand with his again, squeezing it tightly. “After we get back from camping?” 

Maven flushed deeper red, and Jake let a small smirk twist the corner of his mouth. “Okay.” She shakily replied. “When I get paid next, I’ll come buy it.” 

“Okay.” Jake responded, smiling at her in the mirror. He let go of her hand and stepped back, she went back into the dressing room to change. 

She was busy putting her street clothes back on, so she didn’t see him go up to the register and speak softly to the attendant. She didn’t see him hand over his credit card. She didn’t see him slip a parcel wrapped in brown paper into his bag.

#Greta Van Fleet #greta fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fan fleet fic #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake fic #peaceful army

[writeforfandoms]

Far Across the Land 1

Welp. A thing I didn’t need: a new WIP. But y’all get this because I’ve been having fun writing this. So! Here we go. Also let me know if you want me to link the song inspo here, you can also find it on both Ezra’s and Frankie’s playlists down at the bottom of my masterlist.

Find my masterlist

This will be Ezra x f!reader x Frankie after a few chapters. 

No real Frankie yet in this chapter, sorry lovelies. But it’ll happen soon.

Taglist (let me know if you want on or off this ride y’all!): @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @astroboots @loversandantiheroes @shoopidly @adriiibell​ @evyiione​ 

Warnings: Swearing, idiots in love. 

Life with a prospector was rarely dull, as you’d learned the last few years traveling and working with Ezra. He was an interesting character, your prospector. Charming and witty, with a dangerous edge and a protective streak a mile wide. He was certainly entertaining, which was good when you were stuck on a slingback between places or between jobs.

Like now.

You still had a few days left on this slingback before you’d be back at Puggart Bench, and from there… well. You hadn’t planned that far ahead. Which honestly wasn’t that unusual. Ezra planned, sure, but he also quite often flew by the seat of his pants. That had certainly been a change from how you’d lived before, and it had taken a bit of adjustment time.

“What is that beautiful brain ruminatin’ on now, starlight?” Ezra asked from behind you, his arms looping loosely around your shoulders as he dropped his chin on top of your head.

“Nothing important.” You smiled to yourself. “Any thoughts what we’ll do once we’re back on the Pug?”

“We’ve got enough set by to last us a little while,” Ezra spoke slowly, deliberately. “But you know me, starlight. I’d never turn down a lucrative opportunity.”

You snorted, because that was putting it mildly. “Guess we’ll see what job opportunities pop up once we get to the Pug, then,” you answered contentedly.

“I’ll be sure to keep you sufficiently occupied,” Ezra offered, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Of course you will,” you agreed sweetly. “You know better than to let me go bored for too long.”

Ezra huffed out a quiet laugh at the reminder, his arms tightening around you. “I learned that lesson well, my starlight,” he agreed, shifting his head to press a kiss to your temple. “Fear not.”

You chuckled at that and leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of him. One thing you’d never get used to – the pods were always cold in space, no matter how new or fancy they were. (Not that the one you and Ez were using was new or fancy. It was an old rustbucket, and you were dumping it at your earliest chance.) So the fact that Ezra ran warm and was more than willing to warm you up as well? Absolutely divine.

You didn’t get to enjoy it for long, though. The comm beeped with an incoming transmission.

“You expecting someone?” you asked, half-rhetorical as you leaned over to flip the switch.

“No,” Ezra murmured, releasing you and moving to the side instead. The transmission was crackly but understandable.

“Ezra, my friend! I think I found a job for you,” the transmission started. Apparently it was a message, rather than a live feed, which made sense. Live transmissions this far out would cost a pretty penny. Messages were cheaper. “Contact me when you’re back on the Pug, but this is a good one. I’ll give you the details later.”

“Someone you know?” you asked dryly, leaning back in your seat.

“Not well,” Ezra told you, frowning down at the console. “He is someone who has pointed me at jobs before, and he is usually trustworthy.”

“Usually?” you asked, amused.

“Well, I hesitate to call many people completely trustworthy, starlight,” Ezra told you, shooting you a grin. “I’ll contact him to see what exactly this job entails once we’re docked.”

“Good plan,” you agreed, stretching your arms over your head. You noticed Ezra’s gaze trailing down to the sliver of skin exposed by the stretch, and you grinned. “Well, we’ve still got some time before we reach the Pug. Whatever shall we do?”

“Oh, I have confidence you can think of a diversion or two,” Ezra teased right back with a salacious grin. “I may even come up with an idea or two of my own.”

“Oh I just bet you will.” You grinned back at him, stretching your legs out as much as you could in front of you and arching your back, just a little.

Three days later, the pod was docked, you and Ezra were packed up, and you were stepping out into fresh(ish) air for the first time in… longer than you cared to think about, actually.

“I’ll get accommodations, you get food?” you suggested, looking at Ezra.

“That’s as good a plan as any,” Ezra agreed, hefting his pack a little higher on his shoulder.

“I’ll send you the address,” you told him, settling your own pack on your shoulders. “See you soon.” You grabbed him for a quick kiss, smiling when he tried to lean after you. With a cheeky wink, you turned and headed off towards the apartment building you’d used last time you two were on the Pug. They often had temporary rooms available by the cycle, stand, or longer.

A quick conversation and exchange of credits later, you’d acquired a room for the two of you. It didn’t take long to get up to the room and dump your pack on the floor before you pulled out your data pad to send the address and room number to Ez.

The room was pretty basic – sleeping space, refresher, smooshed together kitchen and living area. Nothing extravagant, but neither of you needed extravagant, not here. Maybe if you ever retired. Now that was a thought. Although if you did, you’d probably go crazy. So would Ez, actually. Hm. Nevermind.

A knock on the door stopped your musings, and you opened the door for Ezra, grabbing the bag of food so he could set his things down.

“You went to the place with the fried dough things?” you asked, suddenly about ten times more excited than you had been a minute ago.

“They are your favorite, starlight,” Ezra pointed out with an indulgent grin.

“You are the best,” you told him fervently, diving into the bag to grab one of the fried dough things while they were still warm. You outright moaned at the first bite. “Kevva, that’s good.”

“Are you inclined to share?” Ezra asked, teasing, already fairly certain of the answer.

You eyed him for a few moments. “You can have one,” you decided magnanimously, adding an imperious sniff for good measure.

Ezra chuckled and started on his own food, content to let you eat your fill first. He knew better than to get between you and your fried dough. Fast way to lose a hand.

“When are you planning to contact your friend?” you asked as you were licking your fingers clean.

“I’ll try him tomorrow,” Ezra decided after a moment. “No sense in calling him now, not with as late as it is.”

You smirked knowingly at him. “You mean you have other things you’d like to do,” you teased.

“Well, since you mention it…”

“You’re right.” You paused for dramatic effect. “I need a shower.” Outright grinning at his long-suffering sigh, you grabbed your bag to dig through it for clean clothes. “We’ll need to get laundry done tomorrow, too,” you added. “I’m getting down to the last of my clean things.”

Ezra hummed an agreeing note, and you shut yourself in the ‘fresher to shower. Hot water with good water pressure felt absolutely heavenly after months of either chilly water, poor pressure, or both. One of the downfalls of prospecting – the places you went were often totally lacking in niceties.

You and Ezra swapped after that, and you did a quick inventory of your things. Dirty laundry got shoved into a secondary bag to deal with tomorrow, everything else returned securely to your main pack. You took the time to catch up on some news and check your own data pad for any messages. Not that you were expecting any.

One message from Santi, just a check-in. You responded eagerly. Maybe you’d get a chance to see him sometime soon. It had been a while since you’d checked in with the guys, at least two standard years since you’d seen all four of them at the same time. So you were eager to hear back from Santi, in case he could wrangle everyone together at some point.

“You usually save that look for when I’ve done something particularly pleasing,” Ezra drawled, walking over to drop next to you on the bed.

“Heard from one of my old friends,” you told him honestly. “I haven’t heard from any of them in a while, so it’s nice to know at least one of them is still around and kicking.”

Ezra chuckled at that, pressed a kiss to your temple, and began his own nightly ritual. He pulled out his latest book he was working on, settling himself against the headrest of the bed, and started reading. Knowing him, he could read all night and forget to sleep. Fortunately, you had no issues taking his book away if he tried to read for too long.

You’d done it before and you’d probably do it again.

You finally gave up on catching up on anything further when you had trouble keeping your eyes open, killing the lights and setting your data pad off to the side. Ezra hummed and immediately curled around you, cuddling into you. This part was definitely nice – it was a bit harder to do this on the pod, even though you’d arranged the pod to maximize sleeping space. But still. A real bed was much nicer. You could definitely get used to this for your little break.

Breakfast in the morning was some caf Ezra had thought to grab (which you both inhaled greedily – real caf was a blessing as the powdered stuff was shit but it was usually all you had on jobs). While you were savoring your second cup, Ezra settled across the table from you to call his friend.

“Lor,” Ezra greeted with a grin. “It has been a long time, friend.”

“Since the last time you were stuck here,” Lor agreed with a laugh. “Listen, I think I’ve got a job for you. You still got that pretty partner?”

Ezra’s eyes flashed but his smile didn’t waver. “I do indeed.”

“Good, you’ll need her. And a pilot. This is a nice job, cushy, but long. Way out in the middle of nowhere. So you’ll need the pilot.”

“Now what could be so valuable but so remote?” Ezra asked, leaning back in his chair. His gaze flicked to yours, and you gave him a little shrug. Wouldn’t hurt to keep listening.

“You heard of the white gems?” Lor asked.

That caught both of your attention. The white gems, Lazglen gems as they were also known, were known for their purity and brilliance. They were also notably rare and expensive.

“Lor, my friend,” Ezra started slowly, starting to look excited. “Don’t tell me you’ve found a deposit.”

“Untouched,” Lor promised. “Nobody else knows about it, either. You’d get first crack at it. And I’m the only one who knows where it is.”

Ezra grinned at you, bright and excited. This was a rare opportunity, and you could feel his excitement bubbling around you, contagious and effervescent. You bit your lip to hide your own grin. “That is indeed a rare opportunity, friend,” he said, managing to sound mostly normal, only the faintest quiver betraying him. “Surely such an opportunity comes with a price?”

“You know me well,” Lor agreed with a laugh. “I get thirty percent of whatever you make, since I found the spot.”

Ezra considered for a few moments, looking at you. You shrugged again. Thirty percent wasn’t bad, for a finder’s fee.

“Twenty-five,” Ezra bargained. “Since we’ll have to bring another crew member on.”

Lor chuckled. “Pay the pilot less,” he offered, sounding amused. “Thirty or I move on, Ezra.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ezra acquiesced. “Thirty it is.”

“Excellent! I’ll meet up with you tomorrow to go over everything I know, how does that sound?”

“I’m certainly agreeable.”

“Good, good. Bring your partner, will you? It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Ezra told him, carefully not promising anything. You pressed your lips together, trying hard not to grin. Ez could be a little, just a little, possessive.

“Lazglen gems,” you breathed once you were sure the transmission was cut. “Shit, Ez, I’ve never even seen those in person.”

“If this haul is as good as he says, it could be retirement for the two of us,” Ezra agreed, grinning and giddy as he stood. A quick tug pulled you to your feet as well, and his hands settled on your hips as he pulled you into swaying with him.

“You? Retire?” you joked, grinning.

“Well, perhaps retire is not the correct word,” Ezra admitted. “Retire from prospectin’, however, is an idea I find takes more of a shine with every passing year, my starlight.”

You laughed, tossing your head back to grin up at the ceiling. “We need to do this,” you told him, both arms winding around his neck. “I don’t care if it’s a long job.”

“Agreed.” Ezra spun you both just to hear you squeal in shock and then devolve into helpless giggling. “Tomorrow, we’ll meet with Lor and get the full details about this job. Until then…” He pulled you flush up against him, eyes bright when you met his gaze.

“Until then, we can celebrate our new opportunity,” you purred. “With more fried dough.”

It was Ezra’s turn to throw his head back and laugh.

The diner you were meeting Lor at was nothing special. A decent hole in the wall place you’d never been to before. Ezra ushered you into the booth first, ordering caf for both of you. Not that you minded – that’s all you planned to have at this little meeting. Just in case for some reason you had to leave in a hurry.

Lor, when he arrived, was a short man with dark, greasy hair and pale skin. He greeted Ezra as an old friend, and gave you a too-friendly smile. You nodded to him and leaned back in your seat, letting Ezra take control of the conversation.

Honestly, at that point you kind of zoned out, only half-listening and even then only paying attention to buzz words. Ezra would give you the salient details later, you knew. You could afford to be a little lax and not fully pay attention to the two of them, especially since the first half hour was entirely them chatting. Lor seemed to want to recall some previous job that had gone awry somehow. Again, you weren’t really paying attention.

Finally, though, the two of them got down to business. The size of the haul: huge. Lor claimed he didn’t know exactly how big the site was, which you believed. The risks: not bad. This planet actually had a breathable atmosphere, although you’d be up above civilization. Thus the need for the pilot. The only way to the dig site was by air transit. The length of the job: stands, if not longer. Lor guessed closer to half a standard year. That didn’t surprise you overmuch.

And then the part that you knew Ezra would weigh carefully against everything else. The potential payout. As Lor put it, “Enough to keep you both entertained for the rest of your lives.”

So, a long job, with potential astronomical reward, and relatively low risk. Relatively low. Jobs like these were never totally without risk. Fortunately these gems were harvested in a manner somewhat similar to aurelac, although instead of a single gem per pull, typically there would be several smaller gems.

“It is an unprecedented opportunity,” Ezra agreed, leaning back in the booth. One of his hands rested lightly on your thigh. “And we three are the only ones who know about this?”

“Of course,” Lor agreed, spreading his hands. “I’ve never steered you wrong before.”

“Indeed you have not,” Ezra agreed, his hand lightly squeezing you. “And I thank you for that. We’ve agreed upon your finder’s fee, and the rest of the details will be mine to arrange. The only thing left, I believe, is the map.”

Lor pulled a paper out of his back pocket but didn’t hand it over immediately. “You’ll keep me in the loop on this?” he pressed. “I want regular updates.”

“Of course.” Ezra gave him an earnest look. Which you knew was only a little misleading. Ezra would check in with Lor – but only as little as possible. The both of you worked best with little to no supervision, after all. That way you got results.

Lor handed over the map, and you crowded closer to Ezra to look at it. “I do have my own copy, too, just in case,” Lor told you both.

You didn’t care. You stopped paying attention. You didn’t recognize the area on the map, not that you were terribly surprised – you hadn’t visited this planet before. And even if you had, you would’ve gone to the city, which was a goodly flight away from your harvesting area. You let out a low whistle at the rough outline of the dig site. It was large.

“This all in the mountains?” you asked, shamelessly reaching over Ezra’s arm to trace the outline of the dig site.

“Mostly,” Lor agreed, gaze fixed on you now. “There’s a few flat spots in there, but not a lot. This area is all mountains, and largely unexplored. You’ll want to make sure you’ve got plenty of supplies with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of all the incidentals,” Ezra told him, handing you the map and lifting his arm to curl around your shoulders instead.

Lor smiled, and there was something greedy in his eyes that made you wary. By the tension in his arm, you could tell Ezra saw it, too. “Well then! Sounds like we’re in business, folks. Take your time getting set up and let me know when you’re leaving the Pug.” He stood, nodded to you both, and left.

“Share your thoughts, starlight?” Ezra asked quietly. His hand migrated to the back of your neck, absently rubbing tension out of your muscles.

“It’s almost too good,” you murmured. “But I still don’t think we should turn it down. We need to take this job, to see if he’s right if nothing else. But we need someone we can trust with us. I don’t know that I trust Lor when he says we’re the only ones that know about this.”

Ezra hummed quietly. “I would like to tell you with confidence that he is not so foolish, but I do hate lying to you.”

You laughed quietly and finished off your caf. “Come on, out. I want to get planning this job.”

It took the two of you a day and a half to get everything planned. Well, planned enough, anyway. You had all the major bases covered. You’d even talked Ezra into dumping your old pod for a slightly newer one (that would have fewer issues and better insulation). You’d be taking a lot of supplies with you, unwilling to tip off the city that you’d be staying out in the middle of nowhere for long periods of time. Ezra had obtained the necessary chemicals, as well as emergency supplies, just in case. You’d both been in one too many close calls to not have a just in case kit ready.

Finally, there was only one major thing left.

“I do believe we need only a pilot, starlight,” Ezra murmured, curling around you.

“I know a guy,” you offered after a moment. “Best pilot I know. Good guy, too.”

“Do you trust this pilot of yours?” Ezra inquired.

“Yes.” You answered without hesitation.

“Then I’ll settle for no less.” Ezra pressed a kiss to your temple. “Contact your pilot, starlight, and I shall secure the rest of our arrangements.”

#Far Across the Land #Ezra x reader #Ezra x you #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x you #Ezra x reader x frankie