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sunflowersandsapphires · 9 months

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Dead for a Moment

Wake Up-- Chapter 3

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, description of anxiety and a panic attack, fluff

a/n: So sorry that I left you all hanging!! This is my first multi-chapter fic and I now realize I should’ve written a couple chapters before I started posting. Now that I am getting the hang of things, I am planning on updating this one every Friday! (I already have the next chapter ready to go!) Please reblog, comment, and feel free to send me asks/requests :)

w/c: 1.6k (the next one is longer, I promise!)

Matt shook Judge Hanover’s hand. “It was great catching up, your honor. Have fun in Rome!” The judge chuckled and squeezed Matt’s hand before reentering the crowd to chat with another attendee.

Taking a moment to assess the room, Matt frowned, realizing you still hadn’t returned to the event. He made his way over to where Foggy and Karen were gathered, asking if they’d seen you.

“Last I noticed, she was with you and Hanover. You two scare her off?” Foggy asked in jest, but Matt’s discomfort grew.

“No, she excused herself but never came back.” Focusing his hearing towards the back of the room, he desperately waited for some indication of your whereabouts. He couldn’t hear your voice, or smell your subtle perfume.

“Foggy, can you…”

“Yah, of course bud. The bathrooms are this way.”

As they got closer to the southern wall of the venue, he heard it—your heartbeat. It was frantic, outside the back entrance of the building.

“She left out the back door. Something’s wrong.” Matt whispered, urgently.

“Go find her, man. Karen and I will make something up.”

Matt squeezed Foggy’s arm and began walking towards the exit as quickly as he could without causing a scene.

Once outside, Matt rushed over to your shaking form, your gasping breaths echoing in his ears. He called your name, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Matty?” You wheezed as he crouched next to you.

“Yes it’s me. I’m right here, angel. Can I touch you?” His hands hovered near you as he desperately waited for your permission. Collapsing against his chest, you gave a stifled sob.

Instinctively, his arms wrapped around you. “Breathe, sweet thing. You’re gonna make yourself sick. Follow my breaths ok?” He slowly maneuvered one of your hands over his chest so you could feel it rise with each inhale. He could feel you struggling to imitate as your other hand clenched around his suit jacket.

“You’re doing so well, angel. Keep breathing for me. I got ya.” He sat the two of you down, with his back against the alley wall. Pulling you into his lap, he stroked your back as your hyperventilating started to wane.

“That’s it. Just like that, sweetness.” He murmured into your hair as he held you. Your heart rate was still rapid, but you were at least taking in air again.

“I’m—I’m so sorry.” Your voice was hoarse and Matt felt downright mournful hearing how broken you sounded.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, sweet thing. Not one thing.” He assured you, lips moving against your hairline. “Whenever you’re ready, we can get outta here, ok?”

“And go wh—where?” Your ragged breaths were forcing you to stumble over your words.

“Wherever you want. My place isn’t too far but we can go to yours if you’d be more comfortable.”

“Yours is good.” Still slightly breathless, you push back from him and start to stand up. You wobbled viciously, and would’ve fallen back to the pavement if it weren’t for Matt’s quick reflexes. “Easy, easy. We don’t have to go yet, we can wait another minute.” He rubbed his hands over your arms, looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“No, I want to go. Please, Matt.” Turning to him with glassy eyes, you begged. You needed to get as far away from this place as possible if you wanted to avoid another panic attack.

“Ok, sweetness. Let’s go.” Adjusting his hold on you so that your arms are linked, he took your hand. “My place is a couple blocks west of here. Did you want to get a cab?”

“No, I’m ok.” He gave your hand a squeeze, leading you back to his apartment.

———————————————————————————————————

Once you were inside Matt’s loft, you felt exhausted. The emotional toll of your anxiety attack had finally set in. As always, Matt seemed to sense the change in your energy.

“Sit down, love.” He tenderly tugged you over to the couch and helped you sit. “Take off those stiff shoes, do you want to borrow some comfier clothes?”

“Yes please.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Matt tenderly squeezed your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

You slipped off your heels and rubbed at your face. The tear tracks had burned itchy trails through your makeup. The familiar lights from the billboard outside Matt’s place danced across the living room. As you took in your surroundings, a wave of guilt and embarrassment crashed over you. Biting at your lip, you realized you had just dragged Matt away from his friends and a great networking opportunity for, what? An emotional outburst because some lady had brought up your old coworker? Because she didn’t think you were pretty or interesting?

Matt padded back into the room, holding a pair of sweats and a crew neck sweatshirt. “Here, sweetness. You remember where the bathroom is?”

“Mmhmm” you nodded, taking the clothes and heading to change.

Matt let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. What the hell had happened to you? When the two of you were milling about, your pulse had been steady. You’d seemed confident, almost happy to be there. Who had ruined that for you?

You shuffled around in his bathroom as you changed. Matt shrugged off his suit coat and loosened his tie. Removing his glasses, he moved to the kitchen to fill two glasses with water. Dutifully listening to you, he heard your breath shudder as you held back a sob. Clenching his hands around the glasses, he moved to set them on the coffee table. Pacing over to the bathroom, he hesitated a minute before knocking softy on the door.

“Need anything else, sweetness?” His question was quiet and he impatiently waited for a response. You moved towards the door, opening it carefully before staggering into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Matt. I ruined everything.”

“What do you mean, angel? How did you ruin everything?”

Tears were welling up in your eyes again. “You left because of me. I stopped you from enjoying yourself.” You tried to pull back from him but he kept holding you close.

“Hey, don’t worry your pretty head about that, ok? I told you before, you get to call the shots. I know these events make you nervous. Leaving is always an option.”

You nodded against his chest, biting your lip. He kissed the top of your head firmly, stroking your back. The pair of you remained woven together for a moment as you calmed down. When your breathing had steadied a bit, Matt pulled back and faced you.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Those events never have enough food.” Matt grinned at you, trying to at least get you to crack a smile. “Want to order something?”

“Yah, that sounds good.” You scrubbed a hand at your face and let him lead you back to the couch. After he had you nestled into his side, Matt placed an order to his favorite Thai place. You weren’t really hungry, but you doubted he’d be letting you leave without eating.

Waiting for your meal to arrive, you could practically feel Matt holding himself back, giving you space. It must’ve been killing him to not know what happened when you stepped away. Absentmindedly, he ran his hand over your arm. You sighed, turning your face into his neck.

“It was Snyder.”

“What?” He pulled back, head tilting in confusion.

“She’s the one who—the reason I freaked, it was Snyder.”

A low growl emanated from Matt’s chest, rumbling through you. “What the hell did she do?”

“It was stupid, Matty. I mean—“

“It wasn’t stupid.” He murmured, in that same deep rumble. “If it upset you to that degree, it wasn’t stupid.” A dark rage burned in his eyes. You’d never seen this side of him before. Other people might’ve been frightened, but you tugged him closer, pressing up against him again. He relaxed a tiny bit, letting you pull his arms around you like a security blanket.

“She just…she called me pathetic. Said I wasn’t good enough to date you, that I stole my job. It was just some jealousy-induced bullshit.”

“She what?” You let Matt pull away this time. He stood from the couch, pacing angrily. “How fucking dare—“

“Matt, really. It’s ok, I overreacted.” You offered, turning to watch him as he tugged at his hair with frustration.

“No, you didn’t. She shouldn’t have—“ Matt inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. He knelt before you.

“You did not overreact. She’s an asshole who’s upset because she can’t have the younger man she’s been pursuing for years. You’re allowed to be upset, what she said was cruel.” His eyes flitted around you, distressed.

“We aren’t actually dating, Matt. I shouldn’t care so much about her opinion of us!”

“Your reaction is more than understandable. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wasn’t it?” Matt’s knuckle brushed over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, sighing. “You tried to tell us what you thought might happen. You reminded me today! And we all brushed it off, and then…”

“You didn’t.” You murmured, eyes locked on his distant yet passionate gaze. “You believed me, offered to stand up for me.”

“I did. And I would have! I should’ve paid more attention.” Matt scolded himself, still running his fingers along your face soothingly.

You grasped the hand he was resting on your cheek, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “It wasn’t your fault. You are, quite possibly, the person farthest from the line of blame in this situation. Don’t beat yourself up, please.”

“That’s a pretty common habit of mine.”

“I know. ‘Catholic guilt’ should be your middle name.” You flicked your thumb under his chin making him smile. “But you’ve unfortunately chosen an agnostic fake partner, so I’m here to remind you that not everything is your fault.”

Matt let out a mirthless laugh, “Agree to disagree.”

Before you could chastise him, there was a knock at the door. “Our food’s here.” He gave a sheepish grimace, standing to get the door. Watching him retreat, you bit your lip with a smile. Tonight had been tough, no doubt about it, but you couldn’t help but be grateful for your incredibly sweet fake-boyfriend.

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I hope you enjoyed!! Feel free to reblog, comment, and send me requests!

Tag list: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle

#matt murdock x reader #human disaster matt murdock #Matt Murdock #matt murdock x you #Daredevil #marvel daredevil #marvel's daredevil #daredevil fic #Daredevil Netflix #my writing #mm #wake up

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lovelyjj · 3 months

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Concept - JJ introduces reader to the pogues

-💜 Anon

thank you for requesting means the world to me!

—————————

It was finally time for you to meet JJ’s friends. You and JJ have been dating for a couple weeks. JJ could already tell that you were the one. You were his entire world. Some might say you were in the early stages of the relationship, so how could JJ know these things? He felt it, felt it in his bones.

Your relationship with JJ was very important to you. It was going well so far. You were both very happy. It was the afternoon time when you and JJ were relaxing in your room.

Both of you were on your bed. JJ was grazing your thigh in up and down movements with his hand. Your breathing was slow. You were sharing each other’s body heat. Then JJ got to thinking and he realized you’ve never met his friends before.

JJ’s friends were suspicious of you. They knew JJ had someone that was making him happy and lovesick all the time. They just didn’t know who. So they were anxious to meet the new person in JJ’s life.

“Listen baby, I promised I’d go surfing with the gang today but let’s set up a day where you can meet my friends ok?” JJ explained.

“Sure Jayj, have fun see you soon!”

——————

You and JJ decided on Saturday, a couple days after his surfing trip. It was a day all the other Pogues were free. You were nervous because you wanted to make a good first impression.

JJ and the Pogues decided to meet at the château. JJ picked you up and you both made your way to John B’s. You stepped off JJ’s bike and saw a group of people on the porch.

As you walked up the steps hand in hand with JJ, you tried your best to extinguish your nerves.

“Hey look whose here,” a tan boy with wavy hair said who you later found out was John B.

“Hey, bree bree,” JJ responded.

“Um everyone this is Y/N, Y/N this is the Pogues,” JJ announced.

You smiled at everyone and said, “nice to meet you all.”

“I’m Kiara,” a girl from the couch introduced.

“I’m John B, and over there that’s Pope,” John B voiced.

“So your the girl Js obsessed with,” Pope spoke.

“I wouldn’t put it like that but I am his girlfriend,” you shyly explained.

JJ kissed your forehead and then said, “Yep she’s all mine, aren’t I the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Congrats JJ,” John B whistled.

You and JJ got cozy on the couch and started chatting about anything and everything. You liked JJ’s friends. They were hilarious and kind.

“So Y/N, what do you like to do for fun?” John B asked.

“Oh you know party, hang out with JJ, go to the beach, read.”

“What’s it like dating JJ?” Kiara asked with a smirk.

JJ looked at you with heart eyes and then you answered her question. “He’s my best friend and there’s never a dull moment. He’s my everything and more. It’s like having someone who understands you and will always be there for you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet, I think you guys are perfect for each other,” Kiara responded.

“You guys are the best I can see why JJ is so fond of you,” you started.

“Can I tell her?” JJ asked.

The group all nodded and grinned.

“Wanna be a Pogue for life?”

“A what?”

“It’s what we call ourselves,” John B shared.

“It’s the working class that live on the cut, the throwaway fish, the lowest member of the food chain,” JJ expressed.

“It means friendship and trust as well as heart,” Pope began.

You looked at JJ who gave you a nod and then you smiled and said, “It would be my honor.”

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graythegreyt · 3 months

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HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!!! Who wants ace/aro fic recommendations for Miraculous Ladybug does anyone want ace/aro fic recommendations. Who am I kidding of course you do get in here

The Ace-ing on the Cake - Sailorchibi

This one is THE Aroace Marichat fanfiction in my mind. After several encounters, Chat and Marinette come to understand that they’re both asexual, and begin to worry how their crushes will accept them knowing this. They have a lot of transparent discussions and they may find that things will work out better for them than they’d ever hoped. This one makes my heart so happy :) This author has a lot of fantastic ace works which I'll also be linking, including

Miles Above

Aromantic Chloe! Chloe, as Queen Bee, feels a growing sense of dread at being left behind by her friends who are getting into relationships and having less time for their friendship with her. She and Ladybug have a long heartfelt talk about her fears of being abandoned. Everyone knows each other's identities in this, and Ladybug does her best to let Chloe know how much her friends value her.

And the last one by the same author: Lost Cause

Marinette is caught up in the fear that Chat Noir will hate her for wanting to pursue a relationship with Chat Noir while being aromantic, but Tikki is convinced that he’ll just be so glad that she loves him so much. Marinette’s not so sure about that, but with Adrien’s encouragement she takes a leap of faith. Aromantic Marinette!

(pockets full of) Stones - felledstar

Aroace Adrien! Adrien keeps telling his friends that Marinette is just a friend to him, but nobody seems to listen to him. Eventually, tired of not being understood, he does some research of his own and has some revelations. This one has a really valuable narrative of how it feels when people won't listen to how you describe your identity in my opinion!! Adrien isn't left hanging forever though-- his closest friends are willing to put their hearts into understanding him. Hopeful ending.

doing romance - @anna-scribbles

I would be REMISS to leave out doing romance from Annascribbles-- it’s just came out but already addresses a lot of the confusion and indeed dread from not feeling the same ways that other people seem to, for romance. Aroace Adrien struggles with feeling inadequate as a boyfriend-- how can he claim to be in love with someone if just a kiss makes him feel so off?

The Hearts of Monsters - @ladyofcreation (and also the whole Heroes with the Faces of Monsters series honestly.)

This is an alternate universe where the miraculous transform the holders into what are, essentially, monsters-- Mari becomes a huge ladybug creature complete with mandibles and two pairs of arms, and Adrien becomes a cat creature with warped limbs and sharp teeth. While our two heroes aren’t interested in one another romantically, they find that they treasure and love eachother deeply, and that’s enough for them- it’s always been enough. Highly recommend the rest of the series as well!

Honorable mentions (stories that aren't ace but do fit the spirit in my credited opinion. They're also just a real kick to read):

Tangled Ribbons and off book by @sadrien

These two stories do a fantastic job in establishing deep friendships in the characters before they begin to harbour honest romantic intentions, which reads so nicely to me and is also just so so beautiful. Highly recommend either of these!

Boys get Dresses, Girls get Suits - @dragonchris

This one’s a gen story and not focused on romance- instead, Alix tackles gender roles in the school, and her class has her back. Very fun!

OKAY THAT'S IT EVERYONE HAPPY READING AND I HOPE YOUR VALENTINE'S HAS BEEN EVERYTHING YOU HOPED IT WOULD BE!!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic rec #Help I do not know the etiquette for fic recommendations. Dying a little. Someone tell me if I'm out of line DKDN #Anyways YAYY

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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

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Live in Studio

Summary: Y/n is a photographer that was chosen to photograph Harry's live studio session

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language,heavy flirting, studio sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, scratching biting, oral, fingering, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

HS1 HARRY

I pack up my camera and make sure I have everything that I need before I head out. I walk to the bathroom and give myself one last look over before I smirk and shake my head.

I walk out and grab my bag, keys and text Harry.

Me: Hey I'm on my way.

I walk out to my car and get in, setting my bag gently on the seat.

Harry: Can't wait to see you. Drive safe.

I bite my lip and stare at my screen before I decide to just set my phone down.

I've known Harry for a while now, but I'm still honored to be his photographer for his live studio session. His energy is unmatched and I know we'll have lot of fun today.

——

I pull up to the studio and park. I grab my phone and smile as I reread Harry's text.

Me: I'm here. Getting my stuff around and I'll be in.

I get out and walk around to the passenger side when suddenly I feel a presence approaching.

"Need any help?" Harry asks leaning against my car door. I look over at him and smile, "I think I'm good, thanks." I bend over to grab my bag and double check to make sure nothing fell out.

"Nice view you're giving me, y/n."

I look at him over my shoulder and smile, "Only for you." I wink and laugh as he raises his eyebrows a couple times.

"So." I lean back up and look at him, "Am I just taking pictures? Pictures and videos? What's the plan?" I shut my car door and Harry shrugs, "Whatever feels right to you, love."

I tilt my head slightly, fighting off a very NSFW comment.

"Okay." I smile and he shakes his head, "You were thinking what I was thinking." I roll my eyes, "Sure I was, Styles." He steps in front of me and looks down at me, "I want you to hang back after the session. You know, so we can go over the pictures and videos you take."

I nod slowly, "Mm, okay. Sounds like I can do that."

"Good. Good. Now let's get in there before I keep them waiting any longer." He opens the door for me and his hand lands on my lower back as he follows closely behind me through the door.

"Harry." I smile. He quickly slides his hand down and grabs my ass before running to open the other door while laughing.

"Harold!" I smirk as I glare at him. He smiles, "Can't help it." He opens the door for me and I walk in, greeting everyone.

I've already met everyone in this room, a few times actually.

"Alright. Who's ready to rock and roll?" Harry asks as he claps his hands.

He grabs his guitar and I grab my camera. I start to snap pictures as he strums, closing his eyes to focus more.

I check the picture and I look back up and he's looking at me with a smile on his face. I quickly snap his picture and stick my tongue out at him.

He shakes his head laughing and walks up to the mic, getting ready to sing.

I make my way around the studio, snapping pictures of the band, Harry, the instruments when not in use, when in use, everything.

I take a video of Harry's hands as he plays his guitar.

Fuck, his hands turn me on. I clear my throat and look down at the photo, biting my lip as I rewatch it.

"Oh for fucks saaaaaaake." Harry yells. I look up and laugh, "What the hell?" He laughs and walks over to me. He presses his body against mine as his hand brings my camera up, "That's a good shot of Mitch, don't you think?"

He looks up and motions for Mitch to come over. He shows him the picture and he nods, "Nice, nice."

"Thanks." I take my camera back, "Get to work, Styles." I tease and take a picture of the studio.

"Maybe later we can put that camera to a better use." He whispers into my ear. I can feel my cheeks getting hot.

I don't speak because I know if I try to, I'll just babble like an idiot.

I look up at him and nod. He smirks and walks back over to his mic. He chats with his band mates for a few minutes.

He starts to snap quickly and laughs. I whistle to get his attention and he looks back at me, still snapping, and smiles.

I look at the picture and smile.

They continue to play songs, and joke around and I continue to do what I've been doing, taking pictures and casually flirting with Harry.

"Will you hold me tight and don't let go." Harry sings in a high pitched, almost unrecognizable tone. I laugh and shake my head.

——

"Alright. That's a wrap for today." Harry claps, "Thank you all for being here today." He gives his little I'm grateful for you speech, "Thank you."

I sit down on the couch and click through the pictures. Admiring how good Harry looks in all of them.

"Admiring how good I look, are we?" He sits down next to me.

"Um, no." I lie. He stares at me, leaning forward slowly until I look at him, "Fine." I sigh, "I was." He smirks, "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you either today."

"I had to look at you." I tease with a laugh. He laughs and lays his arm behind me, leaning over to rest his chin on my shoulder, "Let's have a look, shall we?"

I grab my laptop from my bag and pop the card from my camera into it.

I focus on my screen, making sure to click on the right one, "Yes Harold?" I turn my head slightly to him.

"Nothing, I'm just.. admiring how beautiful you are when you're focused."

His words make my cheeks hot and I smile, "Thanks?" I smile and shake my head slightly, looking back at the computer screen.

"Wait." He lays a finger on my screen, "What was that?"

"What was what?" I question even though I know exactly what he's talking about.

His hands. The video I took of his hands while he plays guitar.

He leans closer and a smirk grows on his face, "My hands, huh?" I close my eyes and nod slowly, "Mhm." He chuckles, "Really?"

I look over at him, "Yeah. Yeah. I love your hands now can we move past that?" I click the down arrow a few times and try to keep my composure.

"You know.." Harry moves hair off my neck and lets it fall down my back, "We can look at this a little late.." his finger traces a line up and down the side of my neck.

I bite my lip and all in one quick motion, my lap top is set on the floor and I'm on top of Harry. My lips on his and his hands gripping my hips.

I slowly grind against him, feeling his already semi-hard cock grow harder.

"Fuck." He groans lowly against my lips.

I kiss down his neck and nibble gently. "Y/N." He gasps out sliding a hand up my arm. "You like that?" I whisper in an innocent tone.

He looks at me, his eyes growing dark with hunger. He pulls me in and kisses me. His hands slide down and pull my shirt up and off my body perfectly.

His mouth connects with the top of my chest, leaving little bite marks all over.

"Harry." I whimper tangling my fingers in his hair. He looks up at me, chin rested on my chest, "You like that?" He mocks me.

I'm too into it to care, "So much."

He smirks and continues to do it as he unbuttons my jeans. I tilt my bead back as he slides his hand in between my skin and the fabric of my underwear.

His lips linger and gently brush my skin as he gently rubs my clit in small circles.

I grip his shoulders and look down at him.

"Feel good?" He smirks, "looks like it does."

I nod, "Y-yes."

He slips his hand out and tugs my jeans. I lay back and he pulls them off. I go to lay my head back but he taps my leg once time, "Uh-huh. Watch."

I nod and lean up on my elbows, watching him slide a hand up and down my leg. He pushes my legs apart and I watch as he slides his fingers up and down my slit, his fingers shining with my slick.

"Have you been this wet the whole time?" He asks kissing my knee, "You're soaked." He slips a finger in. My eyes stay focused on his hand, slowly pumping in and out of me.

I let out a moan and fight to close my eyes.

He adds another finger and his rings push against my skin, "You feel so good around my fingers, baby." He leans down and sucks on my clit, causing my legs to jolt.

I lay a hand on his head and tilt my head back, letting out a loud moan.

"Harry.. I-I.." he groans against me, lips still attached to me. He moves his fingers faster, building me up to cum quicker.

I squeeze my thighs against his head, gasping as I clench around his fingers, "Fuck. Fuck. Shit." I pant, "Harry."

He pulls his fingers out and brings them up to my mouth. I instantly open and wrap my lips around them, licking as much of myself off as I can.

He watches me intently with his lips slightly parted.

I lean my head back and smile at him. He moves up and slowly slides his hand around my neck, squeezing gently.

He kisses me, taking my lower lip between his teeth. His bite gradually getting harder along with the tightness of his hand around my neck.

I let out a small whimper and he brushes his nose against my cheek, "I'm going to make you feel so good."

He leans up and slips his black T-shirt off his body. He undoes his jeans and pushes them down. He spits into his hand and locks with with me as he pumps his cock a few times.

He sits down and nods for me to come over to him.

I get up and straddle him, slowly sinking down onto him. I let out a moan and rest my head against his, "You had me thinking about this all day." His hand makes it way to my neck again and his other lays on the center of my back.

"Been thinking about it since the last time we fucked." I smirk and start to move my hips, rocking and rolling then forward and back. Moaning at how fucking good he feels inside of me.

"That's it baby. Use me." He lays his head back, eyes still on me. His hand grips at the skin on my back and he eases up on his grip on my throat. He runs a finger up and down my neck as I fuck myself on him.

"Fuck, Harry." I moan look down at him. He bites his lip and his hands travel to my hips, gripping them as I bounce.

"Fuck, yeah baby, that's it." He moans while thrusting his hips up to meet mine. I grab the back of the couch for leverage and push myself all the way down on him as I clench.

"You're so hot when you cum, y/n." He pulls me down and kisses me, "Switch?"

I nod and he lifts me off of him. I'm still on my knees, leaning on the back of the couch when Harry grabs my hips and slaps a hand against my cheek.

"My beautiful little slut." He whispers as he drags a finger down my spine.

He slides in, agonizingly slow.

I rest my head against the couch, moaning as he thrust, "Harry. Harry. Fuck." I throw my head back and meet my body with each of his thrusts.

"Fuck, you always take me so good." His thumbs run my hips, "So fucking good."

I reach down between my legs, circling my clit with my fingers.

"Fuck, that's so hot." He groans, "Fuck."

"M'gonna cum again." I gasp, "Fuck. Fuck." I grab the back of the couch with both hands, letting my head hang down between my arms.

I let out a scream of pleasure as I cum around him again.

He tries to hold out but his thrusts get sloppy fast, and he pulls out, letting go onto my back and ass.

He stands there for a few moments and goes to grab one of the small towels that are rolled up on the shelf.

"Don't move." He says before wiping up the mess he made.

I slowly roll my body over and lay on the couch, looking up at him with a smile.

"What?" He asks gathering our clothes.

"You didn't use the camera." I pout.

He shrugs and walks over to me. He leans down, "Looks like we'll have to take it home with us." He smirks and kisses me.

"I guess we will."

——

You can find part two here

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

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ryverbind · 4 months

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Faceless Fixation: Cat-FISHER [19]

A/N: in honor of 50k on Wattpad, LET'S GET ITTTTTT!!!!

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

VIOLETVIOLENCE: it's really pathetic that i have to pull you aside like a child to tell you to tone down your shit.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: grow up.

SALLYFʌCɜ: grow up? look who's talking. might i remind you of a verbatim quote by yours truly... "lint licking, cunt flap, cum infested puss bubble of a fucklet"

VIOLETVIOLENCE: i give back what i receive. you can dish but you can't take?

SALLYFʌCɜ: i can take twice as much as i dish.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: i'm so sure that you can. fuck off, sal. quit being an asshat.

SALLYFʌCɜ: so now it's asshat? what happened to llcfcipbf? you're losing your creativity. do better, your fall from grace is disappointing even to me

VIOLETVIOLENCE: fuck you.

SALLYFʌCɜ: i'm sure you want to

He's real fucking cheeky. Excited, if you will. What's gotten into him?

Three days ago, while purposefully and pleasurably butchering Sal's character in Dead By Daylight, if anyone would have told me that the bane of my miserable existence and I would have a personal chat box open— I'd have laughed in your face. I'd have gone full Edgar Allan Poe. You would be in a Speed Bump Grave™️. I'd hear your phantom heart beat under my floor boards.

And now, here I am, simultaneously working through the worst shift of the week and having to bitch at Sally Face Fisher via discord DM's.

I don't know what I've done. Maybe it's just my existence, I'm not sure, but he's targeting me. It's horrifically bad. Every message from him, even if he's in the middle of conversing with one of the other of The Faces, has something about me included. And it is always shitty.

I'm not scared of him, how could I ever be? So I opted (more like I was seconds away from punching his scrotum through my phone screen) to reach out to him personally and nicely ask him to stop... okay so that's obviously a lie but I had to threaten and insult him back. It was the only way I'd feel better.

But now I'm stuck with this loaded last message from him and I have no idea how to continue. Because it's a repeat. A repeat of that fated Discord call that threw my entire existence askew for a week. Or four. Maybe I'm still askew.

His necklace isn't under a shoe in the farthest corner of my room for no reason, after all.

Today was supposed to be simple. Not easy because working at the diner is never easy, but simple. Simple fucking worked. And now I have this conversation with Sally hanging over my head when I was actually looking forward to what's meant to come after I finish my shift.

I brought my mask with me today. My plan is to immediately go back to that mask store after my shift and convince the sweet woman who helped me to sign her work, give me her name, a business card— literally anything so I can tell the world who gave me my start. But now I'm anxious enough to plead not guilty by reason of insanity due to not-so negligent or accidental arson. And on top of that, I'm starting to map out an intricately laid out plan for Sal's Speed Bump Grave™️. Today's ordeals have taken my mind by storm and I'm about to bring everyone down with me in this descent toward madness.

I'm just angry. And bothered. And low key wanting to message Sal back with, "Yea, I am. What are you gonna do about it?" But I must stay strong. I must soldier on. I know the repercussions, I've tasted them for myself— felt them burn my lungs to a crisp. I went through what felt like decades of chain smoking in just mere seconds.

And it's all because of—

A chime rings. A chime that came from my phone. It echoes through the diner's break room, startling me so hard that I nearly leap out of my chair. It's like waking up from a dream where you suddenly start falling.

What was that? What just popped up in my notifications?

Unknown: are you a poe fan, by chance?

My kingdom. My entire kingdom for a chance to start making a Speed Bump Grave™️. For myself? For Sal? For the inexplicable human race? I don't even know anymore.

I thought he'd given up on Lexi. So what the hell is this? Why now? Why today? Why right after he finished— flirting? Baiting?— me.

My mind goes blank. Maybe... maybe he's onto me. Maybe he knows. That I'm Lexi. And now he's finally decided to enact his revenge. On today of all days, when I feel so sick with anxiety and paranoia that I could throw up every square inch of my bowels. My feminine rage is so ragey that I wouldn't be shocked if I sprouted a pair of testicles just so I'd have an excuse for whatever bruised masculinity I'm experiencing right now. Sal must be projecting on me all the way from Nockfell.

Never in my entire life have I felt so hopeless, so cornered. Every time I feel this way, I think it can't possibly get any worse.

And yet.

Me: umm, can't say that i am! don't know much about him.. but how are you, sally!

I don't know what's possessed me. In a normal world, I would have blocked him by now. Or better yet, if I wasn't so disgustingly deplorable and had a damn backbone, I'd have texted him a picture of myself and said "Haha, gotcha bitch!"

The sad truth in this way-too-real life scenario is that I don't have a backbone. And I'm too far gone to go back. I can't revert. There's a part of me that still holds onto my first live interaction with Sal. I just can't get the memory of him— smooth, gentle, kind, and likable— out of my head. No matter how hard I try.

One thing I can be proud of is the amount of petty packed into the fact that I never saved his number in my phone.

Unknown: good. perfect, actually. i brought some poe with me today, a story i think you might like

Some kind of doom-ish feeling washes over me. Like a storm cloud forming above my head. Poison seeping into my pores, infesting my blood. I don't like the way he said that. I don't like it at all. It feels a lot like the time some kid threw up all over me in second grade.

I'll never forget the sickening chill that spread through my body as soon as I realized what happened to me in the middle of educational centers in Nockfell Elementary. This situation feels threateningly similar.

Me: oh cool! so i guess you'll be having a chill reading day? wish it was me :,)

Unknown: not quite. but hey, are you working today?

That storm morphs into a hurricane. And there's twin tornadoes in the background, growing closer and closer to make a torrid, lethal combination. I have to take this in stride. Be smart, y/n. Whatever hell may come, handle it accordingly and do not make mistakes.

Me: ah, no! out of town to visit family :) really, crappy, awkward family get together... yikes...

He'll totally buy that right? I didn't overdo it. It was perfect. Overdoing it would have been an entire paragraph about how much I hate my mom. This is good, this is fine. I'm totally not breaking out into a cold sweat with clammy palms to match.

Oh, God. What if he sent someone to spy on Lexi? What if he hired some murderer off the dark web to take care of me and clean up the mess? I wouldn't put it past him. And this scenario isn't even worst case!

Worst case... I don't even want to think about it. I can't.

Unknown: damn, lex... on the day that i'm finally back in la and you're out of town? :(

Oh, thank God I'm a paranoid chicken shit.

Then again, fuck the fuck off. It's worst case scenario, the thing that I didn't even want to think about. The thing I wouldn't allow to cross my mind.

What do I do. What do I do? I leave work— that's the smartest decision. Naturally, this is the place he once went to and, out of boyish fantasies, he'll probably come back here with some expectation that Lexi will miraculously pop up despite her being in like... Iceland or something, whatever it is I manage to come up with in my next text to him. Which—

Unknown: i'm at the diner rn. was hoping we'd get to hang out this time. when do you get home?

Oh, no.

It's a fucking disaster on top of twenty other disasters. This is what a pregnancy scare must feel like. This must be the equivalent to walking into a room full of snotty, sick toddlers. This is dropping an uncut birthday cake.

I think I'm gonna puke.

I look up from my phone and take in the empty break room surrounding me. The off-white, paint-chipping walls are closing in. I have no escape— this is prison. Trapped in my mind's clawed vices with no way out. Except, my mind's fears have transcended into reality. My worst fear has come true and I had no time to prepare for it. The time is nigh. Ruin is, unfortunately, now.

Think, y/n. It's not so bad. I can just leave through the back door and tell my boss I'm sick again. The door is literally to my left.

But to get back to my apartment, I have to cross in front of the diner that's full of windows. Sal is here, meaning he's paying attention to everything in hopes of finding me... even though I told him I'm not here.I just know he's that kind of romantic, if he even qualifies as such.

He'd spot me in a heartbeat and that can't happen because maybe Vi's mask concealed Lexi who was hidden beneath, but he's about damn near fucked Vi. He knows her body better than she does herself— than I do. Fuck, I have so many different personas I can't even remember that they're all me.

Clusterfuck. That's what this is. A massive clusterfuck, all of my doing.

I'm going to have to bite the bullet. That's my only option. And by bite the bullet, I'm going to fight tooth and nail to keep this bit going. I should just admit the truth, but I'm not humble enough for that, apparently.

My chest begins to ache. It's a slow-to-develop pain that only catches my attention when it hurts a little too much. And then the shallow, short breaths follow. And then the phantom feeling of something lodged in my throat, blocking my airways and filling me with dread.

This is a panic attack, one that is long overdue. One that still can't breach the surface quite yet. I need to make sure I'm home free first— I can weep and be dismayed later. Because the harsh truth is, yes this fucking sucks, but it's not going to kill me. It's just hard for me and my body to truly get a grasp on that.

I swallow down the anxiety that's billowing in my body like linens ominously drying outside a house in the middle of nowhere. I take a couple deep breaths, calming the doubt and fear raging within. My limbs shake a little less, my breathing is better controlled, and my chest doesn't hurt half as much. The pain is still there, but this is bearable. I can do this.

I rifle through my cubby which doesn't give me much to work with. I don't have a change of clothes. I have nothing to hide me, not even a hoodie.

"You... good, y/n?"

I whirl around, hope scraping at the insides of my cranium. Fuck yes. Best lobotomy ever.

I could really cry right now because this is a clear sign that I'm not as alone as I think. Even if it feels like I am, even if my dear coworker Ophelia can't really help me out all that much, she can definitely help me in some way.

I don't have to girl boss everything on my own.

"Lia," I start with, breathless as I practically teleport over to her with the quickness of my panicked steps. "Do you have something I can change into? I can't explain right now but... I would really appreciate your help."

Her big doe eyes take me in curiously, one of her perfectly arched eyebrows raised in question. She bats her long lashes, seemingly processing what I've asked of her before giving me an answer.

"Um, I was planning on going out after my shift tonight? Would a dress work?" She grimaces a bit, probably worried that she won't be able to help me out because Ophelia is just like that.

"That would work fine!" I say excitedly, but think better of it, my hopes crumbling a bit. "But I don't want to take your outfit for the night. I can probably come up with something else."

Lia rolls her eyes lightheartedly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I follow the action, noting her long and sharp blood red nails. I gulp, looking back into her pretty ebony eyes. "Y/n, take what you need. You know Mike can drive me back home to get another outfit! We don't live too far away, and we don't need to be in Anaheim until 9 anyway. Do what you need to do-- you know I'm cheering for you, girl."

I grab onto her hand and hold back the intense admiration infecting my soul. I'm giving Ophelia the most visceral care bear stare I can possibly muster up and she notices, giving me a cute little upside down smile.

"You are an angel," I whisper, "And your future husband is too. Power couple of the heavens, really."

Lia giggles and bends her head down, forcing her pin straight black hair to fall into her face, thus accentuating the really eye-catching red money pieces that match her red nails. I aspire to be this woman. "It's not that serious, Ducks," she says, using my dads nickname for me that she overheard a couple months ago. She thought it was precious, so it stuck. "Let's go get you changed, 'kay?"

Change, I do. But I see where she was concerned about me wearing it too. It's for clubbing, cock-tailing, socializing for sure, but... I can make it work. I've got this. It'll be fine. Thank God I am an avid Doc Martens-wearer. Doc's go with absolutely anything.

Lia has taste too, it's a short, little red dress with spaghetti straps that flares out at the ends. It shows a lot of leg, but not much of anything else. I can't imagine how amazing she must look in this.

"You're super sure that you're okay wearing this?" Lia asks, looking over me. "It looks great on you, I'm inclined to tell you to keep it, honestly."

I scrunch up my face. "No, I'm giving it back to you tomorrow," I laugh gently, using my phone camera to try and get an idea of how I look. I can't see much, which is kind of a blessing because I might hate it and be too afraid to brave LA if I end up not liking it.

"I won't argue with you," Lia sighs, patting my back in a reassuring way. "So do you want to talk about what's going on?"

"Um," I murmur, a shiver running down my spine. I almost forgot why I'm having to do this. It feels like hours have passed, but it's only been five minutes at most. "It's very hard to explain, but I might have to get you or Mike involved, whoever's hosting today." I can't help but grimace as the words leave me, but it's the unfortunate truth that I'll have to talk to one or both of them. I'm ever so slowly hashing out a plan in my head.

Sal is undoubtedly going to ask about Lexi, and what the hell am I supposed to do whenever someone goes, "Lexi? No Lexi has ever worked here." So I have to bite the bullet, again, and stick around to at least inform Mike or Lia about that part of my major, gargantuan fuck up. That also means there's a good chance that Sal will see me, but he'll likely ignore my presence, and then I can slip away quickly.

"Mike is up front and hosting today," Lia says, frowning at me. She's so pretty, like if Marilyn Monroe was alternative. Goth mommy and whatever. No shame on my part.

The chef's booming voice carries into the break room, Lia's name floating along with it. She winces at the sound, flinching in surprise. She gives me a pitiful look, tilting her head almost as if to apologize for having to do her job. Poor little love, she is.

"Will you be able to talk with Mike?" She asks me, heading for the door.

I nod hesitantly. "Yea, I'll get to him. Thank you so much for all your help, Lia. I really appreciate you." I send her my most genuine smile, one that she returns.

"Anytime, y/n! You look beautiful, by the way. Go knock 'em dead, literally or figuratively!"

And she's gone, but she hyped me up in the gentlest way possible. Bless her dark, lovable heart.

I take a breath-- a deep, fortifying, 'ohfuckohfuck' breath that does nothing to calm my soul, but I try to trick myself into believing that it worked... at least somewhat. Then I move over to my work cubby (because we're all still in primary school according to my boss) and grab my old backpack that I bring every day. It's raunchy at best and holding on by a thread. I kept it from my high school days. It's a plain black Jansport with coffee stains on the bottom and questionable white splats that are front and center for everyone to see. I'm pretty sure it's just crusty white paint that I never bothered to peel off, but I won't correct anyone if they guess something else. What's the fun in that, right?

I open the zippers and dig in, working past a random beanie from winter, pads and tampons, and a makeup bag. All the way at the bottom, buried under my other things for protection, is my mask. I put it on then look down at myself one last time.

The flashy red of the dress I'm wearing does not match the deep violet of my mask but not everything can go right, so I'll take my little loss. Things could be worse-- oh wait, they are. Sal Fisher is outside this room. Whoops, forgot things were already devastatingly bad.

I run my fingers over the forehead of my mask, feeling that ache creep into my chest again. I wish things weren't going this way. I wish I was brave enough to go outside and just keep working. Because I'm undoubtedly going to lose my job after today. I'm backing myself into a corner, even risking my finances because of this guy that I'm too scared to face as my real self. I've reached peak pathetic.

My dad must be disappointed to have such an incompetent daughter. No wonder my mother and I don't speak anymore.

I swallow past the uncertainty, the guilt, and the unadulterated fear gnawing at my soul. Then I follow through with my plan by throwing my backpack onto my shoulder and pushing the back door open despite knowing that this is not worth it. It's not worth it at all.

I circle around the outside of the diner, heart rumbling like an earthquake as the putrid scent of garbage wafts into my nose from the dumpster I'm currently passing in front of. The sounds of cars honking, people laughing and chatting idly.

Los Angeles is the people's place. It hosts all necessary components of life, some more than others. Socialization, food. It's a dopamine powerhouse. But when it's me, when I've been living here for over a year and seeing the same things every single day, it's stripped me of all my feel-good chemicals. Especially right now when LA is only bringing me problems and trouble (Sal Fisher).

This doesn't feel real. I can't believe I'm doing this to myself. I can't quite wrap the fact around my head, that I'm about to be in Sal's general vicinity yet again. I thought I had time.

I turn the corner, coming out onto the sidewalk in front of the diner. I don't stop in my stride, eyeing my apartment building that isn't very far from me. A five minute walk. I'm almost home. Almost free. I just have to get inside the diner, unfortunately inform Mike of the tea, and hopefully dodge Sal. So long as I keep my eyes on the host table, I may not even have to see him. I might just be psyching myself out. Everything's going to be just fine!

My heart is in my throat, my limbs jittering nervously as I push the glass door open and look forward, noting the short line of people waiting for seats. Sal isn't one of them, so I assume he's been seated already.

I walk past the people in line, getting a few looks from them. That'd be the mask's fault.

Mike's looking down at his seating chart on the host table, most likely mapping out where someone could go whenever I stop in front of him, placing a hand on the table to discreetly get his attention.

He looks startled for a moment before tilting his head up, brows scrunched together as if to say 'The audacity!' but then he sees me and his eyes widen a bit. And then I'm not sure what his next expression says.

"What the--" he chokes out, "Shit! It's you? Hold on-- wait-- mind-fuck--"

I lift a finger to my lips, eyes wide as I hope he takes the note to shut up. Adrenaline is starting to spike in my veins and if he draws anymore attention to us, especially since my mask is already drawing enough, I'm going to piss myself right here. And sue him for public embarrassment, or whatever that thing is. Public defecation? No, that's public defamation... anyway.

Michael's mouth snaps closed, but he keeps watching me. I watch him. We just watch each other as I forget absolutely everything I had planned.

I swallow, blinking at my friend and coworker. "Mike," I say quietly. He flinches at the sound of his name. "I need you to do something for me and I am sincerely sorry about this but..."

"Yea, Yea, y/n-- um, what should I call you...?" He cuts himself off viciously, slapping a hand over his mouth. At least he cares.

I lean my forearms across the table, settling my weight against the front to relax myself at least a little bit. I'm so tense. I feel eyes on me. I need to get out of here.

"Don't call me that," I say lightheartedly, puffing out a breath. "Just call me Vi. For now." I lick my dry lips. Mike of all people finding out about my identity as VioletViolence is the very least of my worries. "There's a guy in here. He has blue hair, can't miss him. I'm sure you already know who he is. He's looking for a girl named Lexi and he'll probably ask his waiter about her. Just say that Lexi isn't here today, you don't have to answer anything else about her."

"I'm guessing... you're Lexi?" He winces, leaning forward a bit.

"Wow," I say sarcastically. "How did you figure that out?" I send him a little smile then focus on the task at hand yet again. "Anyway, I need you to be his waiter. Please. I'll take your entire shift on Friday. I will do anything." I tilt my head down, peering up at him through my lashes in an attempt to portray how badly I need this.

Mike's brows bunch together again and he mutters, "Yea, of course. Whatever you need. But it's-- he came in with the rest of The Faces. Do you want me to... entertain them too? Do they know about Lexi?"

The world stops turning. Everything pauses, no one's moving anymore and I feel like I'm going to vomit with fear, burst with excitement, and pass out right here from exhaustion. The plan I had is ruined, and I couldn't be more equally devastated and exhilarated about it. Ash is here. Larry's here, Todd too. What the hell is going on?

I blink, the action bringing me back to the present.

"Hey, is that Lia's dress--"

"The Faces are here?" I cut him off, holding a hand out in pause, trying to drill this information into my head. Trying to make it real so I can come up with a new plan.

Michael watches me like I'm stupid, a rueful expression on his boyish face. "Yes. I already said that they're here. Why are you wearing my girlfriend's dress?"

"Because we're fucking on the side and she came all over my work outfit." I watch as he makes his little offended face, and my tongue prods at my cheek as instant regret slaps me in the face. He's trying to help me, I shouldn't be giving him this attitude. "Sorry," I admit. "You know that's not true. I'm just-- I'm on edge."

"That's okay," he says hesitantly. "You know I'm going to get you back for that, anyway."

I pinch my lips together, accepting yet another minor defeat. "Fair." I shrug. "I was going to go back home and leave you to the wolves but... I'd rather risk myself. Ash is my best friend. You won't have to handle them alone now, so yay!" I give him a cheerful grin that I'm really not feeling. I even throw in jazz hands.

Michael runs his tongue over the surface of his teeth, clearly not looking forward to the fiasco I've dragged him into. "Alright," he settles on, sighing as he looks down at his feet while grabbing another menu. "Let's see how you manage to back yourself further into whatever shitty corner you've created. I'm eager."

"I'm sure," I grind out, knocking down all the fear that overtook me on my way here and replacing it with impenetrable, desperate yearning to find my friends. I finally cast my gaze around the diner, quickly zeroing in on the one head of blue hair in this entire building. They're seated at a booth all the way at the back of the restaurant and next to the bar, the one place that's away from most prying eyes. A request of theirs, I'm sure.

But my next question, now that I know everyone's here, what the hell are The Faces doing in Los Angeles? And why wasn't I told?

Ash didn't say a word to me. Do they not want me around? Maybe they don't like me as much as I thought they did. Maybe Ash would rather hang around with other friends than me. And that would make sense because we never see each other, besides Vegas, of course. But just thinking about it makes pain erupt throughout my entire body, a pang in my heart. Especially while watching the back of Ash's head tip down while Larry laughs in front of her. Sal and Larry, I can see them, but Todd and Ash are facing away from me.

Another deep breath.

"I'm going to head over there," I tell Michael, looking over to him again. He's watching me closely, his expression of pity mimicking Lia's from earlier. The sight makes me a little sick.

"Alright," he says gently. "I'm going to be there to take orders soon. I hope everything goes well. Don't be nervous."

I huff out a humorless laugh. "Are you and Ophelia psychic or something? Or is my face just that readable?"

He shrugs, grinning slightly. "I can't see your face, so I guess we're psychic. I'll be in your dreams tonight."

That makes me laugh. It wasn't forced or fake, it was genuine and I need that right now. I think Mike knows that too.

I start taking quick steps over to where The Faces are, nerves slapping at my insides to make me turn around and forget that I ever saw them. I'm attacking myself with my own mind, and my mind is attacking my body in turn. Mental illness is crazy, right? Death by anxiety and whatnot.

But, you know, I'm already here. My job is in purgatory, I'm five steps away from them and Larry has noticed my movement, his head twisting toward me to see who's growing near.

Poor Larry. When he sees me walking toward them, he shakes his head and rubs his eyes like he doesn't believe what he's seeing. He looks at me again, and that's when his eyes start to widen, when his jaw drops. And he doesn't say word, that open mouth just turns into the brightest smile I think I've ever seen.

Seeing his excitement makes my insides flutter about and I feel a little better about actually going over to them. Imagine I get there and they shoo me away? But I can tell that Larry won't. That look on his face screams barely held back hugs.

I gulp, trying to ignore my major cotton mouth. I need water. Or tequila. Something.

I also don't give my brain even a second to psych myself out. When I reach the table, I simply plop myself down beside Ash and act like it's a normal, every day thing for me to do.

All heads turn to me (Larry's never turned away from me to begin with) and then I hear a quiet, uttered, "Fuck" followed by incessant, eardrum bursting squealing in my ear.

Arms. A lot of arms. A ton of squeezing. Lots of kisses all over my mask and face. And all the love makes me think that my sweet Ash had a good reason for not informing me of her visit.

I struggle, but I throw my arms around Ash too, squeezing every little inch of her that I can get. Her sweet, coconut and strawberry scent overwhelms me and I feel so at peace. So calm. Home. Back in Nockfell. Comfortable.

Her hair is in my face and I know she's crying because my bare shoulders are wet, thanks spaghetti strap dress. I don't care though because I'm seeing Ash again much sooner than I imagined I would. I thought it would take us years to have some time together like we did in Las Vegas. And Ash is so emotional, I feel like she's being ripped apart by the sight of me alone-- that's both adrenaline-inducing and terrifying.

This is a nightmare, but a dream come true at the same time. I'm so glad that I was paranoid enough to force myself to tell Mike about the Lexi situation. Things couldn't be any better.

"Ash, fucking let go, man. It's my turn." Larry's voice is right next to me, and then another pair of hands that envelop my waist whole. I'm then yanked out of my best friends arms and spun around to face Larry who hugs me so tight that I have to stand on my tiptoes.

I shut my eyes, grinning as I reach my arms up his back, hugging him the best way I can as he nuzzles his face against my mask. The smell of cigarette smoke and pine trees lingers on his clothes, yet again overwhelming me with familiarity. The smoke is a more recent addition, but he's always had a unique scent to him that's always reminded me of Christmas in a way.

The scruff on his cheeks scratches against my jaw, his skin is warm, his grip tight. I really miss home... and LA is not home. Home is back with all of my friends. I don't want to stay here anymore. I don't want to be where they aren't.

Larry takes a deep breath into my shoulder, likely bathing in my comfort just like I did with him. Then he backs up, holding me at arms length and I look up with tears welling in my eyes no matter how much I wish they weren't there. I hate crying, especially in front of other people, but I'm just so happy. It's like the anxiety I felt while walking over here never existed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Vi!?" Larry exclaims, dragging his hands up my arms to cup my face in his large palms. "I thought you lived in Connecticut?"

I place my hand on top of his, a spark of what I thought was fantastical anxiety rushing through me at the instant fuck up I've just made. Again. Crap. I forgot that Ash told them I live in Connecticut...

"Uh," Ash voices beside us, her tone taking the form of the smartest kid in class who's about to correct a mistake. Todd-coded. "I said she's from Connecticut, not that she still lives there." Good save, Ash. "Word choice is important, Lar! Pay attention!"

Larry's eyes swing between Ash and I before settling on me, stars dancing in his irises. "Wait, so do you live in LA, then?"

I can't help the excited little grin that's slowly climbing onto my face. It's Larry's turn to squeal as he suddenly realizes.

I look back over to Ash, catching Sal's gaze momentarily before I look over at Todd to wave. He waves back at me, a soft and pleased smile on his thin lips.

"So," I say, letting go of Larry whenever he backs away from me. I sit beside Ash again, leaning against her side as she throws an arm around my shoulders. "Why are you guys here?"

Ash hisses, frowning suddenly. I frown back, wary of her reaction. "Crap!" she exclaims, rolling her eyes. "Well, I was going to surprise you and the guys. But I guess you ended up surprising us instead..."

"Oh, so it's not just y/n that we're visiting while we're here? You knew Vi would be here too?" Todd asks, chewing on his bottom lip contemplatively.

Another spark of nervousness. They're here for... fuck, all three sides of me are expected in this situation. This... maybe was not really worth it. I'm erasing all the sides of my corner. Everything's starting to get really small and very tight.

Ash side-eyes me, a discreet little look before she answers Todd. "Yea, but I'm not quite sure where she is in LA. I'm going to have to call her later to get some updates on her whereabouts."

"I could just call her now. I'm super excited to see her, I'm sure she'd love to meet Vi too-- oh, and to tell her why we're here!" Larry says, excitement making him shimmy around in his seat as he pulls out his phone.

My body reacts instantly, tensing up like a cat in shock. Ash jumps too, nearly leaping over the table to stop Larry. "No! She's working!" She yells. It's so loud that you'd think she's trying to flip Larry's phone away from him with sound waves alone. True Stranger Things style.

"Oh...kay..." Larry trails off, pulling his phone closer to him so that Ash can't reach. "It's not that serious. I'll call her later, then. What's your deal?"

I swallow. Her reaction was really too much, but at least she's trying to cover for me. I would've sat there and let Larry call while my phone went off in my pocket.

Ash clears her throat, sitting back now that she threw the scenario into the trash. It was rocky, but her deflection was successful. "I know, just don't bother my girl while she's making money," she says matter-of-factly, holding her head high.

I note the way Sal shakes his head across the table. I haven't acknowledged his presence, nor has he acknowledged mine. It's awkward for the most part, but I think that awkwardness is only stemming from me. He seems to be perfectly in control with his short sleeved, black Iron Maiden shirt that shows off his tatted arms. I guess the LA summer heat was too much for him to wear a hoodie for once.

His electric eyes meet mine, no emotion in the endless depths of his irises. Like he couldn't care less that I'm here, which sounds a lot like him. And still, I fidget in my seat under his gaze. Can't help myself.

The edges of his dagger tattoo peek out from behind his hair, the shape of his Adam's apple clear due to the sun shining in through the window, casting shadows in all the right places. Necklaces are around his neck, some kind of silver chain and and old, really intricate cross necklace hanging right below it. And then his hand comes into view, the one that folded into a fist as a result of my touch just weeks ago in this exact restaurant.

There's something different though as he moves to grab onto the drink in front of him, dragging it closer.

The bottom of his prosthetic lifts as he sips from his straw, but that's when I notice what's different. It's a new tattoo-- Saniderm wrapped around his hand. It looks like... a skeleton hand tattooed onto his own. It's pretty sick and I'm so tired of him having great taste in art. Damn. Now I have a terrible excuse to stare at him some more when I shouldn't look anywhere near him at all.

On the other hand, have I ever mentioned how much of a blessing Michael is?

"Hi, everyone," his cheerful voice effectively distracts me from ogling Sal. I look over to my friend, noting his pink cheeks. Huh. "I'll be taking over as your waiter tonight. Your waitress had to leave," he glances at me as if to tell me that I made a good call by stepping out when I did. That's exactly the moment I realize that we're sitting in my section of the diner. Talk about a close call.

Okay, I should get the hard part over for him right? To thank him. I've got this. "Oh, hey, Mike!" I say, "Long time no see."

Poor Mike looks at me like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey... Vi..." he says quietly. Oh, Michael, please don't crap out on me now... I'm going to have to buy this man a cake for carrying me like this.

I smile at him awkwardly, trying to bypass this horrible excuse of an excuse that he and I are about to do horrible improv for. "So, how's Lexi?" I don't dare look a Sal whenever I say the name, but I do feel a shift in the energy at the table. "It's been weeks since I last saw you guys."

"Lexi doesn't work here anymore," Michael spits out nervously, sweat beginning to build on his forehead. Oh no, don't fucking fumble the bag, Mike!

I give him a look. One that has so many emotions and so many questions, but I just force out a simple, "What?" because what else do I say to that? Things are already beginning to go terribly. But it's okay. I'm a pathological liar at this point, and a catfisher? Maybe? Ha... Cat-FISHER.

I'm going to have a panic attack.

Michael pinches his lips together, red-faced as he glances at Sal. I turn my gaze to Sal too, noticing the way he's eyeing Mike like a hawk.

"Lexi is my girlfriend and she doesn't work here anymore." Michael says, his tone brave and assertive, but his facial expression says an entirely different thing.

Great heavens. Okay, so he's radically screwing everything up but that's okay— I'm a flexible person. He's... doing his best. I can work with this. I hope.

I have this image of him and I duking it out in my head. I have him by the collar, shaking him around like a ragdoll while I scream in his face that he's fucking up the plan. And in my mind he's just taking it because he's playing pure sub right now. I'm not even this submissive-- Michael is straight up breaking the BDSM spectrum.

I shove down my nerves and tilt my head at him. "Okay," I start with, slowly, feeling out what little room I have to work with. "I already knew she was your girlfriend," I say, raising my eyebrows even though he can't see. Saying this feels less incriminating for some reason. But I notice Sal snap his head down to the table. I almost feel bad. "But why doesn't she work here anymore?"

Michael looks off to the side, tapping his fingers against the menus in his arms. "Um, she's... she is..." I narrow my eyes at him. He's not even answering the question. I try to communicate with him through eye contact, bellowing at him to not. Fumble. The. Bag.

He gapes at me like a fish, our intense eye contact freaking him out even more. I sigh to myself. He fumbled whatever bag I'm going on about before he even got to our table.

He finally finds his voice after a second and says, "Lexi is working. At a... sperm... bank."

It takes every little inch of my being not to burst into tears. Holy hell. If anything I'm glad he fucked this up because the sperm bank excuse is hilarious no matter how you look at it. Even better is that it's so ridiculous and random that it's going to distract the entire table from the way he's royally screwing up this conversation.

Ash snorts beside me. Larry chokes on his coke. Todd is silent and so is Sal. Maybe the sperm bank thing will officially scare Sal away from Lexi. Yea-- this could work.

"That's a unique job," I struggle to push out, my voice wavering despite trying to forget what Mike just said. But it's hovering in my mind, like old memes from Vine that still make me cackle to this day. I really wish someone would have caught this entire interaction on video.

Michael glances to Sal again. And that's when I turn to find that the bluenette is glaring at my coworker with his arms crossed over his chest, a dangerous glint in his pretty eyes. Wow. That's a scary look, one that he hasn't even pulled out on me yet.

Mike is gaping again, trying to get words to, you know, word. I try to help him by saying, "I hope she likes it there! That's a big deal." But the words don't register in his mind. I can tell by the look of terror on his face, his gaze still glued to Sally.

My friend takes another second to gather himself, and right as a syllable leaves his lips-- one that he used his one working brain cell to come up with-- Sal interrupts him. He took perfect advantage of Mike's vulnerability.

"I'm not sorry for flirting with your girlfriend."

My eyes squeeze shut as butterflies slap at the lining of my intestines. This is ridiculous and I shouldn't feel flattered. I tilt my head down for a moment, trying to gather my wits. I figured out everything for Michael and I, but I didn't take Sal's response into account. I didn't think he'd have a response to begin with. I never would have thought he'd come up with this either.

"We'll, um," I say hoarsely, clearing my throat to regain my voice, but my heart is flitting about with excitement. I wish Sal never would have spoken. I look up at Mike, sending him a dismissive smile. "We'll order in a little bit. I'm still not sure about what I want. Thanks, Mike."

I've never seen someone scurry away so quickly before in my life.

"Is Lexi the chick you were trying to see over here?" Larry asks as soon as Michael's gone. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, watching as Sal glares at his step-brother. Yikes...

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom," I say, scooting out of the booth before anyone can stop me. I need to not be here right now. Ash is quick to stand up behind me, grabbing onto my hand. I turn, fearful that she's going to stop me, but she just smiles and juts her head forward, signaling me to keep walking.

I hope she doesn't ask me about Lexi. You couldn't even beat this information out of my dead body.

Ash and I take a singular step toward the bathroom, only to get stopped by my least favorite customer. I just want to die at this point. The stress is not worth anything. Not at all.

I've said before that many of the men that come into the diner are assholes of the patriarchy, the ones that tell me to stop talking and make them a sandwich, or comment about women's bodies. The shit that ticks me off beyond belief.

This man in particular smells like mildew and three years of straight sleep and bad breath. He's also not a looker, mind you. And then he's an asshole on top of it? I hate when my boss sends me to his table.

Even worse is watching him eye me after calling out to Ash and I with the words, "How much do you charge?"

My eyes narrow and the boys go quiet behind us. We're close enough for them to hear, especially for Ophelia to hear behind the bar.

She glances up at me, cleaning a glass and frowning.

I look back at the man. I never bothered remembering his name. "Excuse me, sir?" I ask, confused. I don't want to converse with this dickface.

"You're dressed like a whore so you gotta be selling yourself right?" he continues, a humorless chuckle following the grubby words.

I open my mouth then snap it shut, heat taking over my body. I'm embarrassed, really insecure about myself now, and pissed off. He thinks he can just say shit like this to anyone? What a pathetic joke.

Usually I can't do anything about this man since I'm the one serving him, but he doesn't know who I am and I'm not working at the moment. I can reign whatever hell that I want.

But I'm also exceptionally tired. Tired of this horrible job and little pay. Tired of holding up some persona that's already beginning to crash around me. Just tired.

"I'd rather look like a supposed whore than look like I just stepped out of the dumpster, sir. Have a day," I say dismissively. I don't have time for him and I've said my piece. If I go on any further, I'll get kicked out anyway and I've already given my coworkers enough trouble today.

'Have a day' is my favorite thing to say to customers who piss me off because they don't know if I forgot the 'good' or purposefully left it out. It's ominous and vaguely threatening.

Ash and I go to the bathroom and we don't stay there long. Neither of us talk. She just waits for me, like she knew I needed space but that I also needed her companionship. Just a moment away from the mess. Silence. Which is so much more than appreciated, I can't even begin to explain how much I adore my best friend.

She watches me wash my hands through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest and a content smile on her lips. As we start to walk out, she says, "I'm not sure how long you'll be able to keep up the lie about y/n." and she's right. I'm going to face a dead end soon here. "You're obligated to have a sleepover with me tonight so we can come up with a plan, and so you can answer some major questions I have about you right now. My spidey senses are tingling super hard."

Her hand rubs my back and I nod, smiling thankfully at her. Of course she has questions. My entire presence here is questionable right now.

We resurface next to the bar, but looking up at where our booth is shows that it's empty. I'm about to voice my confusion to Ash, but then I notice Lia running around the bar to get to us.

My eyebrows scrunch together as my coworker stops in front of me, eyes on Ash before they focus on me. She mulls over her thoughts for a moment, gaping just like her boyfriend does. Did the boys do something bad?

"We had to... We kicked Sally Face out," is what she says, shocking both me and Ash.

"What?" Ash asks, startled. "What happened?"

Ophelia blinks at Ash, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "He, uh, he walked up to that... that guy at the bar. Kicked his stool out from underneath him. Then he asked me for a drink. Malibu and pineapple."

Ash sighs and I blink at Lia. I don't even know what to think. Did Sal do that for me? And to ask for my favorite drink on top of that...

No. It's impossible. There's no way he would. He just did it for the sake of feminism. That feminism that is nonexistent when it comes to me. Yea, he definitely didn't do that to avenge me. And he was probably just in the mood for alcohol and pineapple juice right? He could never remember the one drink I ever brought up around him. There's no way.

"Sal doesn't even drink all that much," Ash hisses. "What the hell is he doing?" She bites down on her thumb nail, free hand on her hip.

I swallow down all the emotions building up in me. There are so many that I don't even know how to distinguish a single one right now. This is too much. This entire day is too much.

"Okay," I whisper to myself. "Thanks, Lia," I say gratefully. "And thank Mike for me, too, please. I'm going to get everyone out of here before-- yea." I nod to myself, but it isn't very reassuring.

Lia grabs my hand. "We didn't call the police because that asshole had it coming, but someone else might have. It's better to go now."

I nod again, taking yet another deep breath before guiding Ash to the front doors of the diner. The boys are standing right outside, no doubt waiting for Ash and I.

I feel very similar to the way I did when Sal ended our shit-uationship. I'm so confused and so hopeless, but hopeful. So pained, but relieved. I don't know how to handle the way I feel. I can't work myself out of this awful situation now because he's here. He's here and his hair is billowing softly in the wind, showing off his tattooed neck. And a cigarette is between his index and middle finger as he looks out at the jam-packed street. And then his boot is stomping out the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

The nail in the coffin is when he bends over to pick up the cigarette butt and throw it into the trashcan right outside the diner. He would be perfect if he wasn't such an emotionless prick.

I want to cry. I want to feel him again. I want to shoot him with a paintball gun one more time. I want to run my fingers over all his tattoos. I want him to shiver in fear and pleasure because of me. I hate him so much that it's become obsessive.

I lick my lips as I come to a top in front of my friends, more notably, right in front of Sal.

He turns away from the trashcan behind him, his shoulder-length hair following his movements. When he notices me, he stops and stares disinterestedly. The action is so forced though that it feels like it's hiding something else. Like he doesn't want me to know what he just did in the diner.

I watch him. My eye contact is a threat, a warning, a question, begging. Everything, I try to show him through my gaze.

And then I nod at him subtly despite myself. Even if it wasn't for me, he put that guy in his place and I think that's something to appreciate. But at the end of the day, he still left me upset and he's an asshole so I can't find it in myself to physically tell him thank you. The nod will do.

I turn my attention to the rest of The Faces. "I can make brunch in my apartment if that works with y'all?"

And that's how I've made another mistake today. That's why The Faces are walking down the streets of Los Angeles, my apartment just two buildings away.

There's so much wrong with this decision I've made. I should have never invited them over. What if dad is home? He shouldn't be-- but still. There's so much that could go wrong.

But the walk is going disturbingly well. Ash and Larry ooh and ahh at the streets of Los Angeles— which are normal to me. But I understand the charm too. I was very fond of LA when I first came here.

We walk into my apartment building, everyone speaking a little quieter as we traipse through Lobby. I don't speak, I just listen. And I take it that Todd and Sal are doing the same.

My apartment building is nothing special. It's boring, it's the lowest end of mainstream you can get. It's like a 90's apartment in Manhattan, but make it modern and LA. To put it short, it's the cheapest Dad and I could find here.

Having The Faces step into my territory feels like a time bomb ticking down the last few seconds. It's scary, and it puts me in a vulnerable position. I don't have much of a choice— I'm the one who thought of this idea. And I feel like I owe it to my friends to make them something to eat after they got kicked out of the diner. Not that it was my fault, but it was my customer's fault. I feel guilty for some unreasonable reason.

There's always risk though, and I run through my list of said risks as we take the elevator to my apartment. Being in someone's living space is daring, considering that family stuff is all around. Photos on the wall, artwork with family name's on them, doctor appointments and reminders on the refrigerator. Everything is risky, risky, risky.

Lucky for me, dad and I still haven't quite settled in yet. It's been a year, but we're also both constantly moving around. Dad is in hotels for weeks on end and I work most days. We unloaded and fixed our necessities, but other than that, our walls are bare and nothing of note is on our refrigerator. I should be fine.

We finally empty out into the hallway that leads to my apartment and I have to swallow down the anxiety rushing through me. Nothing has gone wrong and I can only hope that the last leg of this walk will go well for me. I just want one thing to go right today, just one. That's all I'm asking.

I get to my door, I shakily slide my key into the lock, and I open it and let all my friends in, watching their eyes bounce around the living room. I nearly slam the door shut once everyone is safe and inside.

I got my wish. Thank you to whoever granted me a little bit of peace on this unfortunate day.

"You need to get a new carpet."

It's the second time I've heard him speak today. The raspy, monotonous, alto tone of his makes me pause. He wasn't insulting, the way he said that was just commentary. But his voice alone feels like a declaration of war and all the panic and fear I've been enduring for the past— what? Half hour?— is replaced with some kind of desirous agony. Like I've been waiting for him to just... just speak.

"You have a problem with everything, don't you?" I respond, my voice biting into the stale air of my living room. I should've simply asked why he felt that way, but I have reasons. For example, the shit I've put up with today has me on edge. Another reason is Sal bombarding me on all ends without him even realizing it, then being so tense with all these horrible decisions I'm making. I'm really itching for a fight right now and I know I can get it from him. I can practically feel my eyes dilating with the excitement that's ransacking my body at the mere prospect of an argument.

Sal's head turns over his shoulders, body somewhat rigid. One hand in his pocket, the other with the fresh tattoo resting at his side. His eyes are narrowed, scrutinizing me and no doubt wondering who the hell I think I am.

"There's a giant fucking stain on your black carpet," he snaps, gesturing his tatted hand at the light green splatter that dad fussed me for weeks ago. That time I was watching The Faces' Youtube video and spilled my damn mint chocolate chip ice cream. When this entire thing between Sal and I was started. Because he had to go and judge me without getting to know me first. "Be happy I even mentioned it," he mutters, tone clipped.

"You think I didn't notice?" I laugh humorlessly. I wasn't lying when I said he has a problem with everything. Seriously— he just stepped foot into my home and has something negative to say about it. "And why don't you guess who's fault it is that the carpet is stained, huh?" The words rush past my lips, all hardly held back fury and expectation for the worst.

Sal tilts his head in a way that begs me to try him again, then turns his entire body to me. He shuts his eyes and holds up a hand, pausing before saying, "It surely isn't my fault if that's what you're implying." He even adds a snort at the end.

"Actually," I say cheerily, chin up and head high because it's quite literally all his fault that I dropped my ice cream whenever I heard him talking about me all those weeks ago. "Yea it is. I was sitting right there," I point to the edge of the sofa nearest the stained part of the carpet. "While listening—"

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, and I did it to myself. Again.

How could I be so stupid? Here I am, openly and happily about to expose my true identity just to make a point. Just to be right. To win. To gain some catharsis from a meaningless argument.

I snap my mouth shut, swallowing over the relentless pounding of my heart. I blink at Sal who's waiting expectantly for me to finish what I was saying. What do I say? How do I save myself?

My palms sweat, my legs quake. Oh, this is so bad. Is this my real downfall? Is this where I break? It's going to happen. I'm going to pass out or have a psychotic break. Maybe I'm going insane— maybe I've been clinically insane for weeks now. At least I could plead not guilty at my murder trial. I've had a lot of murder on my mind today, haven't I?

But there's a knock at the door and bless the heart of whoever is about to punch my door hinges off. Any other situation and I'd be losing my mind over someone knocking so hard, but my savior is behind this hunk of wood.

I let out a shaky breath and tilt my head downwards, pretending like I'm too fed up to continue my argument. It's perfect. The best excuse.

But Sal's eyes burn into me, the scrutinizing, heavy blue trapping me in my own guilt. A narrow waterway hidden behind the confines of his prosthetic, haunting me day and apparently at night too. I find myself stuck, my gaze piercing his and waiting for something that will never come. I don't even know what that something is.

"Never mind," I grunt, spinning on my heels and taking a singular step toward my door.

I twist the knob, relieved by the silence behind me. No one cares enough to ask what that was about. I escaped... somehow.

And then I swing the door open, gaze up at the last person I expected to see, hear a resounding and excited, "Bitch!" and intellectually (smartest decision I've ever made) slam the door back in their face.

Oh no. Oh no, oh fuck.

I forgot.

____________

A/N:::::: 50K is such a dream come true and i really wish i could find more words to explain how excited and whole i feel. when i first started writing at 13, i was also reading on wattpad and fanfiction.com. I saw all these writers getting so many views and comments about their works, and i wondered if that would be me some day. i worked hard for the first couple years of my writing career and my only reader was my lovely sister (thank you amititty) and i realized that i needed to do something different. i started practicing more, and then i got into fanfiction rather than just fiction. and that's when something changed. i'll never forget the day when maybe today got 1k views-- i cried and wept like a baby for HOURS because it meant the entire world to me. little 18 year old ryver had no fucking clue that we'd get this far. that 1k on my trial book would turn into 50k on the next. i'm in tears typing this right now, in disbelief. every single one of you are my reason for writing, for brainstorming, for getting through my day... i consider you guys in everything i do. all the love in this world-- every ounce of affection, of adoration, of admiration-- does not compare to how special all of you are to me. you are all so dear to me, my friends and penpals that keep me going and remind me that the world isn't all bad, that not everyone is bad. so thank you for following me down this road and i hope we can continue like this. i wish we could all stay this way forever! but maybe, just maybe, i'll get to sign published copies of my books for you guys someday. get to follow through on my dream to hug all of you. there's never a way to tell what the future holds, but i believe it's pretty bright. thank you. i love you all with all the working neurons in my brain and numerous blood cells in my body <333

so about this chapter-- i have been looking forward to it since the very first chapter of this story. a lot of things have changed since then, including the chapter, but i still think the contents are a nice surprise and fucking HILARIOUS >.< i just hope you guys like it too! it was kind of hard to get out because i had all these ideas and images and feelings that i desperately needed to portray perfectly, but some things are just unable to be captured by words. my goal was to get as much as i was feeling onto paper (or computer?), so i hope you guys feel all the fear, desperation, and admiration going on! i deleted, retyped, and deleted again so many scenes and parts of this. and jesus christ this is an exceptionally long author's note MY BAD

anyway, as always, you guys own my heart and i love you to infinity and beyond!! i'll link pictures of y/n's red dress and sal's tattoo below <3

p.s. i have an announcement coming soon! nothing big, but i am trying something new so stay turned :3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic

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rrcenic · 7 months

Text

dead poets society as things my friends/family have said

huge trigger warning for discussion of suicide

neil: fuck fuck fuck

todd: what’s wrong?

neil: my workload was too much so i switched from honors algebra 2 to regular algebra 2 and i don’t know how to tell my dad

todd: you’re still two years ahead in math though

neil: yeah but my dad gets so mad when i don’t take every academic opportunity i can

todd: dude you just got out of the psych ward. i think he’ll understand!

neil: hhhhngg

neil: bro i didn’t even realize i had daddy issues til i became unnaturally infatuated with my english teacher

cameron: greetings fellow fraternity males. i am not working for your landlord and i simply want to hang out with fellow “dudes.” on an unrelated note are any of you in possession of illegal drugs and/or alcohol?

knox: yeah check under the chair

cameron: alright “broski” i will be simply taking photos of this not for reporting reasons and for personal reasons

pitts: do you have like a fetish or something

cameron: yes um a fetish i am not working for your landlord

todd: oh he’s so pretty! it’s so sad that he killed himself

todd: i mean obviously because like. killing yourself is never the answer

todd: but mainly because he was so pretty!!

charlie: i call this poem “every day i wake up and dream of olive garden”

meeks: this is literally the most autistic group i’ve ever been in and i love it

neil: oh i’m neurodivergent in many ways but the ‘tisim is surprisingly not one of them

charlie: shakespeare sucks ass

neil: i will stab you

neil: i can’t hang out today, i have therapy

pitts: you? therapy? but you’re so happy!

neil: …

neil: i’ve tried to kill myself like 5 times

pitts: WHAT

neil: did. did you not know that?!?!

knox: hey dyou wanna watch a tv show with me

neil: what’s it about?

knox: there’s lots of pretty women

neil: …

knox: …

neil: …

knox: and pretty men

neil: i’m in

charlie: america is fucked. our society is literally being ripped apart by capitalism. trans people are being criminalized more every day

knox: it’s not that bad

charlie: name one good thing that has happened to the trans community in the past year. i’ll wait

knox: …

knox: well um some politicians support trans people

charlie: THATS NOT ENOUGH

keating: *texting to the group chat* so technically since most of you are my former students i’m not allowed to be friends with you

keating: but you all rock so my excuse is we work on creative projects as a group outside of school

keating: however i can’t just chat with you when you’re bored

*that night*

todd: hey i’m really sorry for contacting you about non creative stuff but i just had a panic attack and don’t know what to do

keating: oh that bullshit? nah man you’re fine text whenever

cameron: charlie just gave me this plastic spoon and ran away does anyone know what it means

gloria: lucky i wish nuwanda had given ME the spoon

cameron: WHAT DOES IT MEAN

neil: i know what we’re gonna do after group therapy. we’re gonna have a poetry contest. we’ll call it psych ward poetry. i’m going to beat all of you with my mad poetry skills

meeks: oh and pooh represents… hm, i actually can’t remember

charlie: google it

meeks: yeah but we can’t have our phones

knox: hey mr mcallister? could you use your phone to google what mental illness the winnie the pooh characters represent?

mcallister: what the actual hell are you talking about

#tw self harm #tw suicide #tw sui joke #nics stuff #dps #dead poets society #incorrect dps #incorrect dead poets society #dps incorrect quotes #dead poets society incorrect quotes #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts #cameron #richard cameron #john keating

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niphredil-14 · 6 months

Note

Hi! I'm an alter in a DID system and we really adore writers like you who do their research and write well-written DID. Could we maybe request reader telling Lui they also have DID? If not that's okay!

First off, I am so flattered that you like my writing! I'm always a bit nervous to write for specific disorders because I know how it feels to see a disorder you have be misrepresented, so it makes me so happy to hear that you feel like I've written DID well! I'd be honored to write this for you c: I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS FOREVER AGO BUT JUST NOW I FOUND IT IN MY DRAFTS OH GODS IM SORRY

It was semi-late in the evening, but they knew he would be awake. After several months of frequent chatting and hang-outs, they had his schedule memorized. They knew he'd be in his room, doing some writing, or possibly sketching. Yet, outside his door, they hesitated, their hand raised mid-knock. They weren't quite sure why they were so nervous to tell him. He was kind, so surely he would be empathetic. They spent all of two minutes frozen there, trying to reason with themself. They wanted to tell him, so why was it so hard? Their internal battle was cut short, however, by the door in front of them swinging open.

"Oh, Hi, Y/n!" He greeted, his soft smile stretching up his face, crinkling his eyes. "I was just about to go out for a walk, wanna come with me?" With quick assent, they began their walk. The walk was leisurely and slow, seemingly aimless, though within a few minutes they found themselves at the park near Liu's house. Their chatting continued as they sat down on one of the benches, looking up at the stars. Stargazing was one of his favorite activities, and they rarely saw him so relaxed. It was when a moment of comfortable silence ensued that they decided to go for it.

"Hey, Liu?" They called softly, voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?" They looked over at him. And he looked over at them, offering a nod.

"Of course." He said. "You can tell me anything." They took a deep breath. They had nothing to be afraid of, and yet that slight twist in their gut was persistent. Turning to look back up at the stars, they spoke,

"I have DID. And I wanted you to know, because it's a big part of my life, and you're also a big part of my life, so," They trailed off, already having said their part. Liu's response was instantaneous.

"Cool, I do too." Looking over at him, they found him smiling at them, and smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me."

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #homicidal liu #homicidal liu x reader #homicidal liu x you #homicidal liu x y/n #liu woods #liu woods x reader #liu woods x you #liu woods x y/n

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tripleglitchwriting · 2 months

Note

You mentioned Ultra Magnus trying to cope with the world of One Piece and the Strawhat Pirates and I. Am. Here. For. It.

UM is a very ernest stressed out lawful good character. and the Strawhats are a chaotic good force. More Chaos than all the Wreckers and the Lost Light put together.

So in honor of that post If you don't mind me asking for two requests in one request box open run I'd like to request a One Piece/Lost Lighters crossover.

The Strawhats are helping The Lost Light crew because Luffy and Rodimus vibe. Roddy has a grand fleet flag and Luffy has a Rodimus star.

Either, Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus in a lull in the action asks Robin why she's a Strawhat Pirate. She's the only sane one here.

Or, if your in the mood for something lighter, Franky and Brainstorm Share The Brain-cell^TM while Usop and Perceptor attempt damage control.

YOU UNDERSTAND. YOU GET IT. I will be happy to write this!! I’m sorry it took me so long, I’ve been going through a rough patch when it comes to motivation.

The lost light characters may be a bit ooc because I’ve been having a hard time gauging their personalities. A lot of what I have for them in my head is from other fanfictions.

Also, this is just the start of the story, it’s just how they meet. I’ve yet to write specific interactions between characters, but I wholeheartedly plan to write more!

A little side note for clarification on One Piece in case anyone needs it:

- This takes place sometime after Jinbei gets on the ship

- I watch the dub so I’m going to use all of the names and such they use there (ex. Black foot Sanji -> Black leg Sanji)

- Sanji and Brook will be normal to women. I just don’t want to write them being weird.

Without further ado, I present…

Ten Idiots Meet A Ship Full Of Other Significantly Bigger Idiots

Synopsis:

After an experiment gone bad on the Lost Light (again), a portal is temporarily opened up to another dimension. Before it could be closed, however, a group of strange individuals manage to slip through.

After a long day at sea, The Strawhats always look forward to a first-class home cooked meal by Sanji himself. It was a beautiful evening- the crew opted to stay out on the deck of the Sunny to watch the sunset.

“SANJI! I’M HUNGRY! FOOD! NOW!” Not that much peace could be had with a captain like Luffy.

“I’m coming! Not every cook can whip up something like this every night you know. I swear, you guys eat more than a whole island every day.”

“Hey, that’s just Luffy. Don’t include the rest of us in this!” Nami shouted from the stairs leading to where the rest of the crew sat.

“I’M YOUR CAPTAIN AND I SAY FEED ME! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!” Luffy pumped his arms as he chanted, sticking his tongue out as he watched Sanji cart out a giant platter of cartoonishly large meat.

“Smells as delicious as ever, Sanji.” Brook commented.

“Thank you, Brook. At least someone appreciates my food around here.” He glared at his captain, who was completely oblivious to everything else around him and solely focused on his food. Everyone else chatted away. Laughing, eating, looking up at the beautiful swirling vortex that had just appeared in the sky.

Wait.

Luffy had to stretch his arms up as his food began to be sucked into the portal above them, but it was in vain as he began to float too. The Sunny creaked as gravity shifted around them, everything but the ship itself beginning a startling ascent upwards.

“MY MEAT! NAMI, WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

“How should I know?!” She clung to an uprooting tangerine tree, “This is NOT normal! I haven’t read anything about whatever this is!”

“Everybody hang on to something!” Jinbei ordered, staring to float himself. Brook didn’t seem to get the message, as he was the first to loose his grip.

“SOMEBODYHELPMEIMBEINGPULLEDIN—”vwoop! And then he was gone.

“BROOK!” Luffy, having already eaten everything on his plate, launched himself into the portal.

“Damnit Luffy!” Zoro did the same soon after.

“What? Are we seriously going in that thing?” Chopper squealed, Usopp and Nami seemed to agree.

“Maybe we’ll all be immediately killed once we enter. It would be a painless death at least.” Robin said calmly, affixing herself to the ground with her devil fruit powers.

“YOU ARE NOT HELPING!” Usopp, Nami, and Chopper all screamed in unison.

“I suppose this is our next adventure!” Jinbei leapt through the portal. Sanji sighed and followed after him.

“Well, Sunny’s too big to go through that thing, so I guess we’re goin’ in without her.” Franky detached himself from the mast.

“Okay everyone, come on.” Robin peeled Usopp, Nami, and Chopper from their death grips on the ship and took all of them with her as she joined the rest of the crew.

“ROBIN WHY-“ Vwoop! And just like that, the Thousand Sunny was left empty.

————————————

Brainstorm was in big trouble. And possibly the entire Lost Light. And maybe the universe. The good news is his portal machine worked! The bad news is it was now pulling in random things from a random space in the multiverse. This would be a great opportunity to study it, unfortunately the stability of the thing was questionable. That is to say the portal was currently beginning to implode.

“Brainstorm, what are you doing!?” Preceptor skidded into the room right as he heard the snapping and crackling of something that probably shouldn’t be making that sound.

“Oh, nothing. It’s fine! It’s fine. I just need to- oh that’s not good. Actually do you mind helping me shut this down before it destroys the entire ship?”

“You’re going to be the death of all of us-” right as he began to walk toward the vortex, a screaming clatter of something came speeding out of it. On closer inspection, it seemed to be the corpse of a human.

“Oh, well, that’s new.” Brainstorm oh so helpfully commented. Just after another being came from the portal, also screaming but not quite as dead. Another followed, this one with a complete and utter look of annoyance on his face.

“What in the- Brainstorm, what did you do?” Ratchet entered, as did Ultra Magnus.

Soon there was an array of things entering the room. Aside from the array of random objects, there was a large blue organic followed by an another human wearing a black suit, then large possibly techno organic. Four other small people shot out shortly after.

“CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT NOW!” Ratchet ordered.

“Oh why didn’t I think of that- oh wait, I did, and I COULD USE SOME HELP!” Together they pulled on a comically large mad scientist like lever affixed to the portals control panel. As quick as it had arrived the portal was gone, though what- or who- it had just pulled in were gaining their bearings.

“Hahahaha! That was fun!” One of the humans, one wearing a yellow hat with a red line across it, put his hand on his head and looked around. It took him a second to notice, but when he finally realized where he was the man yelled, “WOAH! Cool! This place is huge!”

“It seems to be some sort of… metal building. A giant workstation perhaps.” The blue man said thoughtfully.

“Well I say we get out of here! I don’t want to be around when we find out why this place needs to be so big!” A long-nosed human whisper shouted.

“What, like those freaky statues?” The very annoyed man gestured at Brainstorm, Ultra Magnus, Ratchet, and Preceptor, who were all standing completely still. That is, until Rodimus showed up.

“Brainstorm, I heard yelling, is there a fight? Without me?” He strolled in casually, not looking at the floor, and instead focusing on his crew who were all staring at him. “What? What did I do?”

“That. Is. AWESOME!” Something from the floor shot up at Rodimus’s face. “Are you a robot? Can you shoot lasers? Do you eat metal?!” Somehow, someway, there was an ecstatic human right in front of his optics.

“Luffy! Get down from there!”

“Woah. So, care to explain? Anyone?”

“We are not robots, we are Cybertronian.” Ultra Magnus automatically stated.

“Cool!” ‘Luffy’, as his friend called him, somehow managed to launch himself on top of Rodimus’s helm. “Is there any food here?”

“Luffy! Damnit-” Another of the humans, the one in the suit, jumped. Accept when one would normally begin to succumb to gravity and fall back down, he took another step in the air and kept going. “You are so reckless!” The man tackled Luffy off Rodimus and they both began to plummet down to the ground- a height deadly to something so small.

“Sanji, let me down! I want to talk to the robot!”

“How about you shut up and come up with a plan before you get us all killed!” The moment they jumped off, Ratchet was already in motion. He was able to dive behind Rodimus to catch the two, but as he slid on the ground to save them ‘Sanji’ jumped off the air again and landed perfectly safe.

“I… I can’t even begin to explain this.” He admitted in a completely defeated tone, now chassis down on the floor.

“Do they all move?” A small voice whispered from the group still standing where the portal once was.

“I hope not.” Another replied.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” Brainstorm said calmly.

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.” Ultra Magnus put his servo on his helm. The two that had just survived a deadly landing like it was nothing walked back to their group- one much more unhappy than the other.

“Sorry about him. He does this a lot.” The annoyed green haired man glared at both of them.

“Oh, like you’re any better moss head.”

“Oh yeah? At least I didn’t jump in the face of a giant robot!”

“Yeah, cause you’d get lost on the way there!”

“You take that back-“

“STOP IT!” Half of the new arrivals shouted at the same time. One orange haired girl stepped up to comfort the bickering duo.

“This is not the time to argue! We’re kind of… we- look!” She gestured at, well, everything. Everyone else seemed to silently agree.

“Greetings visitors from another world! Welcome aboard the Lost Light!” Brainstorm announced with a flashy arm movement.

“Hey, I’m the captain, I get to welcome people into the ship!”

“You’re a captain?! Is this a pirate ship? Are you giant robot pirates?!” Luffy shouted in awe, though still in the arms of Sanji, who promptly dropped him.

“He said he was ‘Cybertronian’ bro. Not a robot.” The probably techno organic chastised.

“Psh, whatever.” Luffy got himself to his feet.

“We are not pirates.” Ultra Magnus said very sternly. “We are on a perfectly legal exploratory expedition.”

“Oh, bummer.” He glanced around once again. Apparently deciding now was a good time, he introduced himself. “My name is Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!” Luffy smiled brightly and giggled, either ignoring or disregarding his friends facepalms.

“Well, I’d say this was a great success!” Brainstorm cheered to himself. “Who knew that was possible! I really am a genius.”

“And who are you?” ‘Moss head’ sneered at him. “Who are any of you? This is weird.”

“Well, if I’m allowed to introduce my own ship this time, my name is Rodimus Prime, captain of the Lost Light!”

“Hang on, this is your ship? How did you build something like this, it looks like it’s straight outta Vegapunk’s lab! What part of the world are we in anyway?” The blue hair techno organic asked, putting his oversized hand on his strangely shaped chin.

“Space, my friend. We’re in space. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if anything living would make it through that portal. Looks like it’s got about a 9 out of 10 survival rate which is better than most multidimensional portals I’ve seen. That is to say I’ve never seen one before, because I built the first one. Just now. No need to congratulate me.” Ignoring Brainstorm’s blatant narcissism, the of new arrivals looked absolutely flabbergasted by this information.

“We’re in space? Like, space space? Outer space?” Luffy asked with eyes wider than any moon, a big bright burning ball of excitement building in his chest.

“I assume you’ve never been off your planet before?” Perceptor asked. Luffy didn’t respond this time. He looked like he was about to burst with excitement, though his crew mates didn’t seem to pay much mind. One or two of them shook their heads in response to the question. “Well, Brainstorm, care to explain what you’ve done here?”

“What I’ve done- well, if you have the mental capacity to understand- I can give you a basic rundown. I’ve designed this portal to reach into alternate dimensions, which have hardly been confirmed to exist other than the dead universe. I’ve been worked steadily on it for a while now, and today I tested it out. It brought these ten organics here as well as some other junk.”

“Brainstorm.”

“Yes?”

“You mean to tell me, you turned on an untested and extremely dangerous machine that could obliterate our entire existence within nanokliks for no reason other than bragging rights? And when it miraculously did work, you pulled in ten random people from an unknown possibly incredibly dangerous world that could have also imploded our entire existence?”

“Yes that about sums it up.” Perceptor’s optic twitched, but as it seemed time was moving a bit too fast for him to start lecturing. The corpse on the floor began to move, slowly at first, and then in a sharp practiced motion it popped up on its feet.

“Yohohoho! I think I passed out for a second there!” The skeleton looked around. “Oh. I definitely passed out. No bones about it!” The apparently not corse laughed to himself.

“Cool! I didn’t think those human stories about corpses coming back to life were real!” Rodimus said with a childlike playfulness.

“They’re not.” Ultra Magnus argued bluntly.

“Oh, I am a skeleton. It’s a long story. Say, Luffy, what is going on?”

“We got sucked through a portal and now we’re talking to giant robot guys.”

“Oh okay.” The skeleton nodded, and then quickly scurried to where three of the other humans (and animal thing?) were huddled.

“Well, remind me to change that to a 10 out of 10 survival rate!”

“I feel like introductions are in order here…” Perceptor stated, “I’ll go first. My name is Perceptor. I’m a scientist. Now, you.” He gestured at Brainstorm.

“Well, if you insist. I am Brainstrom. Genius inventor of the machine that brought you all here.”

“I am the duly enfor- ah, I mean Ultra Magnus. I try to keep the peace around here.”

“You know me, I’m Rodimus.” He nudged Ratchet. “It’s your turn, doc.”

“Fine. I’m Ratchet. Retired head medical officer.“

“Cool names!” Luffy, having sprung back up, was jumping up and down. “This is my crew, the Strawhat Pirates!”

“Roronoa Zoro. Soon to be greatest swordsman and second hand man.” ‘Moss head’ introduced himself. The orange hair girl stepped out of the group.

“I’m Nami, the navigator.” The long nose man shakily emerged after her.

“I am commander Usopp! Best sniper in the world! I’m also the leader of one thousa-“

“Don’t even start.” The suit wearing man stepped up. “Sanji. I’m the crew’s chef.” The animal like thing approached from behind another crew member.

“Um, my name’s Chopper. I’m the doctor.” He tapped his hooves together nervously. A woman, one who hasn’t said much until now, patted the hat on his head in a compassionate manner.

“I’m Nico Robin, an archeologist.” She smiled sweetly and quickly got out of the way of the blue haired inhuman human man rushing to the front.

“Name’s Franky!” He struck a strange pose. “A SUPER good shipwright!” The skeleton stepped up beside him and did a short bow.

“My name is Brook. I am lucky to be the musician of this crew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When he stood up the large blue man stood beside him.

“I am Jinbe, the helmsman. It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” He bowed deeply.

“Now that we did that, do you guys have any food?” Luffy asked immediately and without hesitation.

The fifteen of them stood in Brainstorm’s mildly disfigured lab space, each with very different thoughts running through their heads. A new world, a new people, things most on the Lost Light never even imagined possible. From then on, the world got a little more chaotic.

#transformers #transformers g/t #transformers au #tripleglitchwrites #crossovers #one piece #one piece crossover #one piece x transformers #this caters to such a niche audience but I am happy to supply content #one piece au #ultra Magnus has a bad day #Rodimus has a great day

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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*clears throat and offers double chocolate chip cookies to GP Reader* Hello Mrs. Barber, I hope I am not being too forward in asking you these questions like I asked your dear husband last week. What are your favorite parts of your smokeshow husband's body and personality? And do you have any dating & relationship advice for this very introverted but very romance obsessed woman? Thank you so much for your time, you are like the cool aunties I've missed hanging out with.

Summary: It's Baby Girl's turn (also known as Mrs. Barber) to answer a few burning questions about her relationship with her husband, the infamous Andrew Barber. Written from Reader's POV.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Girl!Dad Andy Barber, Discussions of Fatherhood, Mentions of Oral Sex (Man Rec), Fingering (mentioned), Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, Punishments (mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Fluff, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: This installment of the A Growing Pains Interview Series also contains a brief reference to my fic, Handsy, where I first introduce Mr. Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. For more insight into Andrew Barber and his Baby Girl, please check out my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. ___

Hello! Finally, a question for me! I’m super excited, let me tell you. I believe we already know the ground rules with this…and I’ve sent Mr. Barber out of the room so we can all chat freely. I’ll show him this later. Maybe it’ll even earn me a reward. This girl right here has been on her best behavior this past week, which means no punishments!

You even have my promise to keep the hot streak going. Scouts honor, folks.

Let me start by saying that I love my sweet Andy Bear, and I am so unbelievably proud to call him my husband. He is by far the most amazing and brilliant man I’ve ever met. He’s also quite the menace, and I say that with all of the love. Whether we’re talking about his body or his mind, Andrew Barber is a fucking force, you guys.

But at the end of the day, my man is foine as hell. Andrew is a luscious piece of ass wrapped in one big, well-proportioned package. And speaking of asses, have you seen his? You could bounce a quarter off that butt.

Quick fun fact: I tried it. It worked. So then I kept doing it. I even made a game of it which actually took up the entire day.

Although, the kids kept asking why Mama was “throwing money” at Daddy. So, I just made up some story about Daddy being forgetful and leaving his coins around the house, which meant that I had to try to put it back in his pocket for him.

But I had to be careful, because I didn’t want him to feel bad about being so darn forgetful. Worked like a dream. I mean, our beautiful Barber Babies bought that tale hook, line, and sinker. Even BiBi! She seemed suspicious, but then I caught her offering Andy one of her little wallets just in case he needed it.

He was so touched by her gesture that he did eventually accept it. And then went out and bought her another one, complete with a matching piggy bank. Well, it was more of a llama bank – which also happens to be her favorite animal. Where he found it, I have no idea.

Can I just deviate from the physical for a second to talk about what a wonderful father this man is? It’s not always about the big, grand gestures with us. In reality, it’s about the small, more intimate moments. Yes, our house is chaotic at times. We have four children under nine-years-old, so chaos kind of comes with the territory.

And he handles it spectacularly – even when he fucks up. Now that might sound a bit harsh, but if I’ve learned anything from this whole parenting gig, it’s that you will fuck up sometimes. And we both do it, but he’s a wonderful partner who strives to be the best Dad he can possibly be.

I love watching him with our children. He’s so protective and encouraging. He reads to them every night, takes them on “camping trips” in the backyard, and coaches pretty much every sport they’re involved in. I don’t quite get the whole camping business – I don’t do nature, or bugs – but apparently the kids do.

And they love that stuff. We don’t stay out all night, but we set up tents and tell stories and enjoy campfire snacks. Everyone stays up well past bedtime and my sweet little A.J., who takes after his father in so many ways, keeps me safe from “dah buggies” by sitting in my lap. See, Andy told him that bugs scared me, so it was up to them to keep me safe. Which is exactly what he does.

Lord, help me when he grows up. I don’t know if I have it in me to live with two Andrew Barbers. But I guess I’ll just have to keep them, won’t I?

Oh! And in case you didn’t already know, Andy is also amazing company at tea parties. Katrina and Rory threw one the other day. They had me deliver a special, handmade invitation and everything. He picked out a suit, brought cookies from the local bakery, and even sat in a chair that was much too small for his bulky frame to be comfortable.

But he did it all for his girls without so much as a fuss.

I snuck a peek and nearly melted on the spot. And when we finally got a moment to ourselves, you can be damn sure that I got down on my knees with the quickness and sucked the soul out of my Big Man’s body.

He didn’t fully understand why until I explained it to him later, but he also wasn’t complaining either. That man is the most delicious mouthful you could ever imagine. Mr. Barber is, eh, very well endowed. But I’ve also had ages to refine my technique.

And he is always more than willing to let me practice. It’s actually very kind of him. That man has the patience of a saint – unless I’m deepthroating him. But otherwise his stamina is pretty top notch.

That aside, Andrew Barber is so completely and utterly devoted to me and this amazing little family we’ve built together that sometimes I get overwhelmed just thinking about it. I’ve never been loved so thoroughly or so deeply before.

If I’m being honest, and I am, it actually used to scare me. And sometimes it still does if I let it. But I also accept my handsome ogre for who he is – the same way he accepts me for who and what I am.

Meaning that I’m a fucking brat, which I am through and through. It’s not my fault. My husband brings it out of me even when I least expect it. It might have something to do with that cocky grin of his, or that arrogant swagger he walks around with from time to time.

It makes me want to wreak havoc in new and inventive ways on a weekly, if not daily, basis. Andy knows this, of course. He claims he knew I was a brat from our very first date. I still have no idea what he means by that, so whatever. I just let him think what he wants.

But we have fun together. And the things we do, the games we play…

It keeps things spicy. I guess you could say that it’s really Andy’s mind that turns me on. Couple that with his dominant and possessive nature and hot damn! Sometimes it can be a bit much to manage, but this girl doesn’t mind being slung over an impressive man’s broad shoulder every now and again.

I enjoy being manhandled. If it’s with the right man, that is. And Andrew Barber is definitely more than enough man for me.

Anyway, I think that’s all I’ve got for now. As for your question about advice…hm. I would encourage you to just be yourself.

But also, and I know this is much easier said than done, try to make yourself step outside your comfort zone. I’m saying go crazy or anything, but it might be worth taking a small risk here and there. Occasionally it’s okay to make the first move – even if you find that idea terrifying.

With Andrew…I made the first move. Of course he tells it differently, and yes he may have seen me first, but I made the first move. Which was something that I had never done before. And I was so unbelievably nervous. At the time I found it so strange to be drawn to a person like that, especially with someone who possesses such an intimidating aura.

But being just a little brave is ultimately what led me to the love of my life. Don’t get me wrong. My palms were sweaty and my legs felt kind of like jello, but I just felt like I had to try.

And to this day, I’m so glad that I did. Because it means that I get to live my own love story. And while it’s not all a bed of roses, because we do have our problems, I do firmly believe that I’ve found my other half. And it’s because we continue to take a chance on one another and the bond that we’ve built every single day.

Whatever you believe in, things happen for a reason. And when you find your person, you’ll know. They will accept you for who you are and will work hard to love you the way you need to be loved.

Just take a deep breath and have a little faith. Take a chance. Take a risk. But don’t settle for anybody, man or woman, who refuses to see your worth, girlfriend. You’re much too special for that.

Signing off with love – Mrs. Barber

P.S. I’ll be your cool Aunty all day long, boo! I’m always here if you need something or if you have more questions. Andy Bear and I screen these things together, but nothing is really off limits with us. And I will always happily take advantage of any opportunity to gush about the love of my life. Even if he is a menace.

P.S.S. I also forgot to mention that I love Andy’s hands. You know in romance novels where they write about the hero having perfect hands with long, nimble fingers sporting just the right amount of callousness? That’s him. And not only that, but my Big Man’s fingers are absolute magic. Or instruments of torture. Depends on the day, really.

By the way, my husband has the most delightfully one-sided rivalry with my favorite Hollywood actor, Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. It’s so funny! But the other day, I pulled up this interview where Lloyd cracked this eyebrow-raising joke about “all of his fingering being accurate” and watched it in bed right next to Andy. And then I may or may not have made some comment about how some men ought to be more like him [Lloyd Evans-Drysdale] and maybe take some notes.

My husband didn’t like that. I got in sooo much trouble for it too. I mean, if you consider being held down, spanked, and then fucked within an inch of my life trouble.

Completely worth it.

And in case you’re wondering, the answer is yes. All of Andy’s fingering is incredibly accurate in its own right. Even more so than Lloyd’s. And this girl has had more than enough orgasms to back him up.

Also, Andy would probably also like me to mention that he is, in fact, taller than my movie star crush. And that he’s never had to wear a lace-front wig because his hairline isn’t receding. My sweet man can be a bit of a mental patient, but I do love him...

So, I guess I'll just have to put up with it. For now. Thank goodness he's cute.

___

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