#ask me if theres any tags I should add by the way. just want to make sure this is properly tagged

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

HSH AU: Home is Where the Heart is

Mark keeps hearing and seeing things whenever near the Torres Family Home, and despite Cesar not feeling like anything is wrong, Mark can’t shake off the feeling of being watched.

TW: Friendship problems, paranoia, hallucinations, body/face horror, blood/gore, implied possession

Notes: this is. the longest fic. I’ve posted here, being around 10,000 words long, so. long read. BUT I’m pretty proud of this fic, and I hope you guys like this new au and the world in it! There’s. so much I’m excited to show, and this is just scratching the surface :)

( @deadmuttsbones [tagging cause they co-own the au])

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September 9th, 1992. 10:06 PM.

Mark couldn’t shake the unease in his gut that night. He could’ve said no; the option to refuse Cesar’s offer to hang out and stay the night at his place was there. He could’ve told Cesar how he really felt about it, yelling at him about the discomfort and dread he felt in his chest every time he stepped through the front door. Yet he didn’t, and now he was driving the long road to Cesar’s home, all while rain bounced off of his windshield and the radio played the same songs he had heard a hundred times.

Mark glanced at the rear-view mirror, seeing how his brown hair was a mess, and how he had dark circles around his eyes, sighing before glancing at the suitcase in the backseat; packed for only one night. He was wearing a black, V-neck T-shirt, a golden cross hanging in front of his chest. He had a pair of worn blue jeans over his legs, along with plain grey sneakers. His hands tapped the steering wheel with the music as he tried to shake off the sinking feeling deep inside of him, repeating a simple phrase to himself in his head: “only one night.” Besides, Cesar was going to be there, and it wouldn’t hurt to see a friend after a week of not talking to each other, right? It wasn’t like Mark had anyone else to hang out with.

Mark’s car drove down the wet asphalt road, slowing down and stopping next to the curb, his green eyes staring at the house in to the side of his vehicle, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to ease the tension. It was a one story home, with plain, reddish-brown outer walls, with a white garage to the left of the front door, which had a small, grey stone porch in front of it, with a planting pot to the left of that. The living room window to the right of the front door had yellow light pouring out in between the curtains, and Mark could hear faint murmuring as he got out of his car, pushing the door behind him closed. The rain hit his hair and shoulders as he stared at the home, his lips pursed and his shoulders tense as he gazed at the light coming from the window. He shook his left arm by his side as he swung open the backseat door, pulling out his suitcase and placing it on the grass of the front lawn. With a huff, he slammed the door shut, all before he heard the front door open.

“Hey!” A voice said as Mark turned to face where it came from. He saw a figure in the doorway, barely visible aside from his silhouette as he waved Mark over. “Come on, it’s pouring out here!”

Mark took in a breath, picking up his suitcase with one hand, holding his other above his face to prevent the rain from hitting him in the eyes. He jogged across the yard, his sneakers slamming against the concrete driveway before he ran into the home, brushing past the person in the doorway as he closed the door behind Mark. “You said you’d be here at like…eight. It’s ten already.” The man said as he turned towards Mark, who was setting his suitcase next to the couch, which sat in front of the window, before turning towards him.

“Yeah sorry, Ces…just…bad weather.” Mark sighed.

Cesar sighed quietly, walking past Mark towards the TV, turning the volume of it down, the sound of gunfire and yelling from the old western no longer drowning out their words. Cesar was a decently tall young man with tan-colored skin, with black wavy hair and a faint mustache on his upper lip. He wore a white T-shirt, along with red shorts, with a pair of plain white socks covering his feet and no doubt becoming charged with static from the shaggy carpet of the living room. Mark watched as Cesar walked out of the room, calling for his mother to tell her about their guest arriving as Mark sat on the couch, shifting in his seat as he attempted to get comfortable. Mark stared at the TV, hoping the sound of the programs will drown out the sound coming from directly behind it. He glanced up, looking back down and shifting his position on the couch again when he saw it. How stupid; he was scared of a fucking clock.

The grandfather clock in question was tall, made of reddish-brown wood, carved with intricate patterns. The pendulum behind the glass swung, the ticking of the clock echoing in the living room as its hands twitched with every second. Carved, wing-like pieces of wood protruded from the top of the clock, the shadow of them flickering onto the red, striped wallpaper from the light of the TV and the lamp on the table next to it. Mark stared at the clock’s face, seeing as the time neared 10:15 as he swallowed the lump in his throat. His eyes fixed on the center of its face, the sound of the TV being drowned out by the sound of the pendulum swinging from side to side-

“Hey Mark, you gonna sleep out here tonight?” Mark was taken out of his thoughts by Cesar, who was standing in the archway leading to the kitchen. “Or do you want like…a few blankets to sleep in the bedroom?”

“Oh…u-uhh…the bedroom.” Mark glanced at the clock again.

“Cool.” Cesar gave Mark a quick thumbs up. “You can sleep by the bed if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah that’s fine.” Mark coughed.

Cesar’s friendly smile faded as his brows furrowed. “…You alright, Mark?”

“Yeah, I’m…yeah.” Mark sighed, looking down as he rubbed the golden cross hanging from his neck with his thumb.

“…Alright, I guess.” Cesar said.

Mark looked around the room, seeing the multiple photos hanging on the walls, along with the furniture before he looked down at something that caught his eye; a grey cat bed resting beside the clock. It was empty.

“Hey, where’s your cat?” Mark asked.

“Oh…yeah, gah…Johnny…hasn’t been seen for a while.”

“What? Why?”

“We don’t know.” Cesar sighed. “We’ve been asking the neighbors but…no one’s seen him.”

“Shit…” Mark said under his breath. “I’m…sorry dude.”

“I’m sure we’ll find him, it just might…take a while.”

There was silence among the friends, Cesar noticing Mark shifting in his seat as his eyes darted around the room.

“…Do you even want to be here?” Cesar asked.

Mark’s breath hitched slightly, his chest feeling as tight as his throat. “…I mean…I’d like to hang out with you.”

“Yeah, but do you actually want to be here?” Cesar repeated.

Mark paused before he looked at Cesar with a pensive look in his eyes. “No.”

“Then why did you—”

“Cause I wanted to say I was sorry, okay?” Mark stated. “For…y’know…what happened last week.”

“That’s…it?” Cesar scoffed slightly. “Dude, you could’ve…told me at school or even through the phone.”

“I-I don’t know, I just wanted to talk to you.” Mark said. “Like…actually talk to you.”

“…About what?” Cesar asked before the two of them heard footsteps coming from the kitchen.

“Marco, I put a comforter and a few blankets and pillows on Cesar’s bed.” Ms. Torres appeared in the doorway, her Spanish accent present as she spoke. “You can make your bed on the ground, and if it’s not comfortable, I can get you some quilts.”

“Thanks…miss.” Mark said.

Ms. Torres was a shorter, middle aged woman with shoulder length, wavy dark brown hair and deep tan skin. She wore a black cardigan over a white shirt, along with a silver necklace. “Okay, Niño, I’m going to bed, come get me if you or Mark need anything.”

“Alright, mamá, see you tomorrow.” Cesar said as his mother pulled him into an embrace before walking down the hall, closing the door to her bedroom.

“Cesar, don’t you ever feel like…you’re…being watched?”

The question made a pit form in Cesar’s stomach as he turned towards Mark, who was sitting on the couch, staring at him with anticipation; expecting something from Cesar.

“I mean…yeah, I have, but…who hasn’t?” The corner of Cesar’s mouth rose slightly in a nervous smile, fading as quickly as it appeared. “Sometimes you just…feel like that, there doesn’t have to be a reason to it.”

“Do you ever hear…b…breathing?”

Cesar’s throat felt tight.

“Like…not even…from anything in particular just…almost…everywhere here.” Mark continued.

“…Mark…what are you even…talking about?” Cesar asked. “I…look, I just wanted us to spend tonight just hanging out, without the weird shit—”

“Do you?” Mark seemed aggressive with his question, leaning forward as he stared at Cesar’s eyes, being able to make out the concern in his stare. Cesar glanced around the room, shifting his weight onto one foot as he stared at the ground; thinking.

“…Yes.” Cesar’s voice was quiet, almost a squeak.

Mark let out a breath, shaking his head slightly as one of his hands clasped his necklace. “Then why…why have you been acting like I’ve been crazy this whole time if you knew?”

           Cesar didn’t respond to his question, rather looking towards a bookshelf and looking back to Mark. “We have some…board games.” Cesar stated. “Monopoly? Cards? Do you want to…play anything? I-I can dig out the SNES in my closet—”

           “It’s…fine. I’ll just…watch TV.” Mark responded, brows furrowing on his face as he looked away from Cesar. He could see Cesar lower his head in his peripheral vision as he walked away, sighing and scratching the back of his head. He disappeared behind the archway as Mark stared at the TV, the black and white images reflecting off of his eyes. He watched as the two characters in the western spoke to each other:

           “You know, I don’t see why I stay with that bastard.” One of them stated, looking towards the taller cowboy next to him. “All he does is cause trouble for me, and for everyone else he’s around.”

           “Well, Billy, I’d say it’s about time you let him go.” The older man stated. “Besides, you always have me, and we have a home you can stay in, food you can eat. You don’t need him if you think he’s nothing but trouble for you.”

           “I guess so, Mr. Parker.” Billy chuckled. “Guess I’m…right at home here, huh?”

           “That you are. You’re always welcome here, and never forget that.” Parker laughed. “We always love guests. You’ll love it here, Heathcliff. You’ll love it here.”    

           Mark looked away from the screen as his eyes were drug upwards, back at the grandfather clock, hearing the characters in the TV laughing despite their noses bleeding heavily. Mark’s eyes couldn’t be moved, hearing the clunks and ticks coming from the inside of the clock, faint bells ringing in Mark’s head. He couldn’t look away, sitting up as he stared at the clock’s face, the hands shifting and the pendulum swinging, calming, in a way. Maybe Cesar was right, and he was just on edge. Maybe he deserved to lean back, sink into the couch, and let himself relax.

           Mark didn’t want to. He didn’t want to relax, feeling as if his eyes burnt as he watched the clock, every sound aside from the ticking fading into oblivion; all until he felt a hand be pressed on his shoulder.

           “Mark?” Cesar’s voice shook, and when Mark looked up at his face, it almost seemed like he was…scared.

           “What do you want?” Mark asked.

           “What the fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” Cesar said frantically. “I tried talking to you but you didn’t respond; dude I was wondering if I should call an ambulance—”

           “What? You…never said anything.” Mark rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling as though they were dried out.

           “You’ve been staring into space for over a fucking hour, Mark.”

           Mark looked at him quizzically before glancing back at the clock, heart sinking when he saw the hour hand nearing midnight. “W…but I…I don’t…get it.” Mark muttered.

           “I tried talking to you but you just mumbled shit at me and never even looked at me.” Cesar continued. “Dude, you’re…seriously fucking worrying me.”

           “I…fuck…” Mark pressed his elbows on his knees, grasping his head with his hands as he stared at the carpet.

           “…Maybe…you should go to sleep, dude.” Cesar suggested. “I mean…when was the last time you slept well anyway? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

           “…Yeah…I haven’t.” Mark muttered under his breath, trying to push down the feeling of nausea in his gut. “…Fuck.”

 Mark could still hear the clock, even as he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor in Cesar’s bedroom. He stared into the darkness, hearing Cesar’s faint breathing from the bed in the corner. Mark normally took off his necklace before bed, however he found himself still clutching it hard enough in his hand to leave indents in his skin. He turned onto his side, pulling the covers over himself as his eyes darted around the room before he shut his eyes, curling into himself as he tried to fall—

GONG.

GONG.

GONG.

The clock’s bells rang throughout the home, startling Mark out of his half asleep state entirely. He sat still for a moment, trembling slightly before groaning, throwing his blanket off of him before standing up. “Ces—” Mark paused as he stared at the bed, seeing nothing but neatly made bed sheets and pillows where Cesar once was. Mark stared at the empty bed as he felt his throat become tight, hearing the loud, echoing bells from the living room.

He turned towards the bedroom door, seeing faint blue light coming from the dark hall. He stared at it, swallowing the lump in his throat as he walked towards the door, tempted to claw his hair out when he felt that the ground was damp. He felt the carpet of the bedroom turn into the wooden floors of the hallway, puddles formed on the floor as if it had rained indoors. His heart sank when he stared down the hallway, seeing that there were more doors than before. The four doors on the side and the one behind him turned into eight, then sixteen, then thirty six. The hallway stretched on both ways, reminding Mark of a hotel’s eerily empty and long hallways. He silently stepped towards the door next to Cesar’s, attempting to open it, only to find the doorknob remained unmoved.

Mark’s breathing clouded the cool air in front of him as he looked down the hallway, seeing a white, square shaped light at the end of the expansive hall, the sound of the bells ringing in his ears, joining the sound of static in the overwhelming choir, making Mark let go of his necklace just to cover his ears. He walked down the hallway, seeing the light slowly grow closer with every step. He wanted to scream, though deep inside he knew it would only result in a wheezy whisper and nothing more. He wanted out of that damned hallway, the many doors feeling so familiar yet so alien at the same time.

His wet socks hit the wooden floors as he walked, all until the wood felt oddly soft, and warm. He looked down, seeing that the wood grain of the floorboards was beginning to twist and look less like wood and similar to-

Mark didn’t want to think of what the veins meant.

Mark looked up, seeing where the light was coming from clearly; an analog television, resting on a table half sunken into the ground. The bells had finally grown silent, and the static was all that remained. Mark waved his hand by his side as he attempted to push down the overwhelming nausea he felt from the putrid smell, as well as desperately trying to brush off the feeling of being followed. He stood in front of the TV, raising his hand towards it, pointing a finger towards the power button, and clicking it. The screen shut off, delving the hall in darkness as Mark gasped, trying to turn the TV back on, only to find it unresponsive.

“Fuck…fuck…please…” Mark whimpered as he stood still, hearing his own heartbeat in his ears, unable to ignore how it sounded like a ticking clock. He wanted to wake up, knowing it was nothing but a nightmare. Please fucking wake up.

“You’re always welcome here, Mark.”

Cesar’s choked whisper into his right ear felt like it was burning itself into his head.

Mark awoke with a gasp, feeling the shaggy carpet under his body and face. He was drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy, and his body feeling even heavier. He felt the carpet stuck to his face as he pushed his upper body off of the floor, feeling the heaviness begin to wane, even though his arms felt weak. He looked up, eyes widening when he saw something towering over his prone body; the grandfather clock. Mark scrambled to his feet, staring at the clock as he shook off the exhaustion and heaviness in his body. His chest heaved with every harsh breath as he grasped his necklace tightly, glancing through the kitchen to see the back hallway, where Cesar’s bedroom was.

Mark pushed open Cesar’s door, his silhouette blocking the hallway light as he stared into the room. Darkness cloaked his form, his face concealed in blackness, with only two faint dots of light from his eyes visible. He stared at Cesar’s still, unconscious body before he slowly approached Cesar’s bed, lifting an arm over him before speaking quietly, yet urgently.

“Cesar.”

Cesar’s eyes flicked open as he breathed in harshly, feeling Mark’s hand rest on his shoulder before he quickly sat up, smacking the arm away and staring at Mark with wide eyes, only letting out his breath when he saw it was him.

“M…Mark?” Cesar mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“…What? What fuckin…time is it?” Cesar asked, happy when he began to make out Mark’s face in the darkness, no longer just seeing the shines of his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Mark responded with a trembling voice. “C…Can you come with me for a second…?”

Cesar stared at him, watching Mark back out of the room before Cesar slid out of bed, following Mark through the hallway and into the living room. Mark stopped in front of the clock, pointing at it with a shaking hand before looking back at Cesar. “W-What…do you feel looking at this?” Mark questioned.

“…What?”

“Please, just…a-answer the…the question, Cesar.” Mark stammered over his words, not making eye contact with Cesar as he talked.

“I…I-I don’t…know?” Cesar responded.

“Please, you…y-you have to feel something looking at it, right?” Mark looked towards Cesar for approval.

“Mark, what’s going on with you, you’ve been talking about my house nonstop every time I’ve seen you for, what, a month?”

“Yeah, and I-I’m fuckin’ tired of you just…ignoring me,” Mark said, brows furrowed and his shoulders tense. “You told me that you’ve heard the breathing too, felt like you’re being watched, yet you keep pretending that I’m just out of my fucking mind!”

“Mark, I just wanted to hang out with you; a normal night for ONCE.” Cesar said, walking in front of the clock, blocking Mark’s view. “What the fuck is going on; you refuse to fucking tell me anything!”

“Cesar, there’s something seriously fucking wrong here,” Mark snapped. “I’ve told you EVERYTHING I’ve felt about this place, yet you refuse to just LISTEN to me!”

“Mark, calm down—”

“NO, I’M TIRED OF THIS,” Mark stepped towards Cesar as tears ran down his cheeks and his speech became slurred. “YOU THINK I’M FUCKING CRAZY, DON’T YOU?!”

“Mark—” Cesar felt Mark shove him away, stumbling backwards before hitting the clock, cracking the glass covering the cavity holding the pendulum before he fell to the ground. He laid on the ground, pressing a hand against the sore part of his back as Mark glared at him; all before Mark’s stare began to soften. Mark grimaced, trying to hold back tears before covering his face, sobbing into his hands.

“Fuck…Cesar, I’m…so fucking sorry.”

“Get out.”

Mark looked through his fingers to see Cesar staring back at him, the glare feeling like twenty daggers piercing his heart.

“…Cesar?”

“GET OUT.” Cesar repeated loudly, making Mark flinch as he pointed towards the front door. “If you don’t like this place, GET OUT!”

Mark stumbled backwards, looking at his suitcase, which sat by the couch as Cesar continued. “I’ve…had enough of this SHIT, Mark.” Cesar spat. “No…no I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you need THERAPY.”

Mark chest heaved with every sob, the one arm not clutching his sweat-stained shirt shaking in front of his torso. “I-I…shit…fuck…I-I-I—”

“I’ll see you at school, Mark.” Cesar stated, standing up. “Go home. Get help.”

Mark turned away from Cesar, storming towards his suitcase and grabbing its handle before freezing, feeling a pit in his chest. He could smell something similar to copper, or old coins. He shook his head, not bothering to grab anything he may have left behind before bolting towards the door, swinging it open and walking outside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Cesar glanced at the clock, seeing the cracked glass and the small shards of it breaking off of it and falling to the floor. It smelled of iron in the room, and when Cesar looked up at the clock’s face, he saw something running from the grooves around it, dripping down the wood before Cesar hesitantly wiped it off with his fingers. He looked at the liquid on his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb, staining his hand with red. “…W…what?”

Mark threw open the back door of his car, tossing the suitcase inside without much trouble as he stifled a sob. He closed the door before opening the driver’s side door and sitting inside. He closed the door, and buckled his seatbelt before grasping the steering wheel with enough force to make his knuckles pop. He grimaced as tears ran down his cheeks. Way to go Mark; you lost another one. Maybe you never needed Cesar anyway, Mark. Maybe you never needed—

“FUCK!” Mark shouted in his car. He slammed his hand against the wheel, causing the horn to blare for a moment before he crossed his arms on the steering wheel, lowering his head and pressing his forehead on it. “…Damn it. God damn it…”

 Cesar woke up later than he normally did the next morning, finally waking up around 11 in the morning, rather than his normal 8 AM. He was wrapped and buried in his blankets, barely visible from beneath them before he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He stirred awake, pushing the blankets off of his head as he groggily stared at the door as it opened, revealing his mother. “Oh…sorry for waking you up, have you seen Marco?” She asked.

Cesar blinked at her, sighing before turning over onto his side. “He’s…he left.” He mumbled tiredly. “…Last night.”

“Did he tell you why?”

Cesar thought for a second, or as much as he could while half asleep. “…No.”

“Oh…are you alright?” Ms. Torres stepped into the room, folding her hands in front of her as she looked at Cesar worriedly.

“…Y…I dunno.” Cesar responded. “Just…weird.”

“Well…alright; breakfast is ready whenever you want it.” Ms. Torres walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her as Cesar pulled the covers over his head. He felt himself drifting off, ready to sleep until noon until the door opened again.

“Oh! Almost forgot, you have that recital this Monday, don’t forget it,” Ms. Torres said. “In fact, I’d recommend you practice a bit before then.”

“Ye…yeah…whatever.” Cesar heard the door close once again, ready to fall back asleep until his eyes shot open. “Oh…shit.” He turned onto his back, pressing his hands against his face; the piano recital. How was he going to concentrate on playing after everything that happened the night before? He wished he could’ve pushed it off another week to give him time to decompress and relax, though it didn’t seem like he was lucky enough for that.

“‘Practice a bit before then’, as if…I haven’t been practicing nearly every day for a month.” Cesar muttered as he sat up. He opened his closet door, seeing his black suit hung up next to the shelves, along with his white dress shirt right beside it. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt before closing the doors.

He walked out of his bedroom, turning towards the bathroom to get dressed before flicking on the light. He looked into the medicine cabinet’s mirror in front of him for a moment, pausing before he could close the door, staring at the mirror his brows furrowed. His eyes looked towards the reflection of the hallway behind him, seeing a portion of the kitchen. It was empty, though when he turned behind him, his breathed hitched slightly, as he could see his mother placing plates and food on the table. He turned back towards the mirror, his unease not waning when he saw that the kitchen was still empty in the reflection. He let out a shaky breath as he backed out of the room, deciding to change in his bedroom instead, unnoticing of the figure in the kitchen archway in the reflection.

Cesar quickly got himself dressed, walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, staring at the table before his mother noticed him. “Would you like some eggs?” She asked, though Cesar barely looked at her.

“I’m not hungry right now…” Cesar stated, glancing at his mother before walking into the living room, much to her dismay. He walked towards the couch, seeing the sun’s light bleeding into the home from the window, hitting the carpet and even the furniture on the opposite wall. Cesar’s eyes followed the light for a second before they landed on something. He stared at it quizzically, pausing before stepping towards it; the clock. He looked at the glass, seeing the pendulum swing back and forth as it always did, however, Cesar couldn’t help but feel uneasy when he realized that the glass was fixed, with not a single crack or blemish in sight. It was as if the event the previous night never happened at all.

Cesar crouched down, lightly grazing his fingers across the newly-fixed glass before speaking. “Hey, mom, did you fix the clock last night?” He asked.

“…No? Was it broken?”

The answer made a pit form in his stomach as he turned back towards the clock, swallowing his unease and standing up. “N…No, just…curious.”

Mark’s shaky breathing was the only sound in his bedroom, sitting on his knees on his bed as he stared, unblinking, at the wall in front of him. He scribbled with the black marker in his hand, leaving thin, dark lines on the grey drywall. Organic-appearing pictures formed from his mindless drawing, lines branching off like veins, with small, scribbled eyes peeking through them. He didn’t know why he was doing this; he even had a notebook he could draw in, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get out his thoughts in any other way. He had to.

A knock rang from his bedroom door, though Mark barely heard it, continuing to draw even as his hands were stained with ink. It was only when the second knock rang that Mark paused, slowly turning towards the door as he stared at it with dry, bloodshot eyes. Blood oozed down from his nostrils, dripping over his mouth and chin, though he didn’t seem to react to the taste of iron.

“Mark?” It was his mother. “…You haven’t been out of your room in a while, are you alright?”

Mark took a moment to respond, blinking as he regained his bearings. “…Yeah.”

“You sure? Do you need anything?”

“No, Mom.” Mark responded, looking down at his stained hands; he needed to wash them off, the best he can, anyway. “I’m fine, just…tired.”

“Alright, just…remember to take care of yourself okay?”

“…Yeah. I…I-I will.” He looked back towards his drawings, brows furrowing as his eyes grazed over the lines. He shook his head, looking around his room before his eyes focused on something just barely out of view in his open closet; a poster, one of a horror movie he liked to watch. He hopped off of his bed, grabbing the poster, along with a small box of pushpins before climbing back onto his bed, breath heavy as he stared at the drawings, all before he rolled out the poster and held it against the wall, securing it with the pins. He didn’t even want to see them himself, so why would the others?

Mark opened his bedroom door after he finished hanging up the poster, closing the door behind him, seeing the stairway leading downstairs before he turned to his left, where the upstairs bathroom was. He stared into the dark room before flicking on the light, turning towards the mirror and seeing the state he was in. His wavy brown hair was covering his left eye, almost being a blessing, knowing how his other eye appeared. He had a dull purple ring over his sunken eyes, with the eyes themselves being bloodshot and red.  He seemed paler than usual, though he swore he looked better the night before. He was wearing his pale grey sweatshirt, along with his cross necklace of course. He hated the way he looked; he had acne from stress, and his hair was a complete mess. He hated the crimson streaks going down his top lip, with every wipe of his hand only making it smear across his lower face. He hated it.

The faucet was leaking, dripping water as he stared deep into his own reflection. It dripped in rhythm, with every time the water fell onto the porcelain below making Mark want to scratch his ears off with his nails.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Trip.

Trik.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Mark’s hands shook as he breathed in deeply, grimacing as he stared at himself. He couldn’t take it, raising a fist before throwing it into the mirror, cracks spreading from the impact as shards exploded onto the countertop. Mark screamed, pulling his arm back and stumbling into the wall, sliding down as he stared at his fist. His knuckles were bloody, with shards half protruding out of his skin, tearing it and causing the crimson to drip down his arm.

He couldn’t find anything to say, only gasping and grasping his wrist as he stared at the blood. He could hear his mother running up the stairs, and he knew he had no explanation to his action. He barely even recognized the sound of the door opening until it hit his foot, hearing his mother’s voice worriedly asking him what happened. It was nothing more than noise to him. He could hear the pulsing in his head again as he sat, unmoving on the bathroom floor. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore, or even why.

He was scared.

--

September 12th, 1992. 6:46 PM.

 Cesar hadn’t slept well the entire weekend.

He could feel his exhaustion creeping up on him as he adjusted the red bowtie around his neck, looking at himself in the mirror as he centered it on his shirt collar. Despite his neatly done hair, combed to the side as best as it could, and his spotless black tuxedo, the bags under his eyes alluded to his less than energetic mood. He adjusted the rose pinned to his lapel until it looked good enough before taking another look at himself in the mirror, taking in a deep breath before letting it go, shutting the light off before leaving the bathroom.

He walked down the hallway as he fidgeted with his dress shirt cuffs, feeling a pressure in his chest; he couldn’t decipher whether he was anxious about the recital in little more than two hours, or the stress he felt creeping up inside of him from the past few days. He hadn’t been able to shake of the nausea in his stomach, though he pressed it down anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to make his mother worry. He was better than that.

Cesar walked into the living room, sighing as he sat on the couch, grasping his knees with his strangely clammy hands. He took in slow, deep breaths, just like his therapist told him, though it didn’t seem to relieve the sinking feeling in his chest. He glanced around the living room, feeling oddly…unnerved by the red wallpaper; did it seem almost…redder than usual? He looked towards the corner near the ceiling, eyes squinting when he spotted something leaking from it, dripping down the striped wallpaper. It was almost invisible, blending in with the wall almost seamlessly. Cesar couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps…Mark was right to be concerned—

“Niño, are you ready?” Ms. Torres walked into the room, dressed in a black cardigan, black shirt, along with a floral skirt. “We’re supposed to be there in a half hour.”

“…I thought it was a couple hours…away.” Cesar asked, eyes still fixated on the strange substance leaking from the walls before looking towards his mother.

“It’s nearly 8 o’clock,” Ms. Torres said after taking a glance at the grandfather clock, seeing that it was 7:49 PM.  “You need to be there by 8:30, remember?”

Cesar stared off at nothing in particular as his brows furrowed. “Yeah…of...of course.” He looked down at the coffee table, his eyes focusing on the stack of papers resting next to the TV. “Schubert’s Serenade” was written above the music notes, a song he was all too familiar with; even remembering how often he practiced made his hands hurt. He sighed, slipping on his black dress shoes before grabbing the stack of papers, hoping the performance would help get his mind off of…everything.

He didn’t expect Mark to show up, nor did he particularly want to see him in the audience. He didn’t need this recital to be ruined by their personal drama.

Cesar’s deep feeling of discomfort didn’t subside, even as they drove down Mandela’s streets, the streetlights passing over their car. He glanced towards his mother, who was focused on the road as she drove, able to see in her face that she wasn’t affected by the strange aura Cesar felt; if anything, she seemed excited for Cesar’s performance more than Cesar himself was. Cesar let out a soft sigh, staring through the windshield as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“…Do I…have to do this?”

The question made Ms. Torres glance at him with a weird look in her eyes. “Do you not want to? I thought you were looking forward to this.”

“Well, yeah but…just…gah, I don’t know, things have been…” Cesar paused for a moment as he thought to himself. “…Weird, lately…couldn’t this be done any other time?”

“Nervous?”

“…Yeah, honestly.”

“You’ll do great, I can feel it.” Ms. Torres smiled. “I’m sure everyone will love it.”

“Or just…laugh at me.” Cesar crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“Oh, don’t say that,” Ms. Torres let out a nervous chuckle. “Hey, if nothing else, I’ll enjoy the performance. Even though I am a little biased.” She let out a short laugh as Cesar looked towards her, her sunny attitude doing nothing to help his mood. He didn’t have much time to think about getting out of the car and walking home however, as they were already there. As they parked, Cesar looked up at the building, seeing all the cars in the parking lot, the amount of which making his heart sink into his stomach.

“There are…a lot of people here.” He said quietly.

“Niño, look at me,” Ms. Torres looked at him with a soft gaze. “It’s going to be alright, just focus on the music. I’ll be there in the audience, and trust me…I won’t laugh at you.” She smiled softly. “I’m proud of you either way.”

Despite the worry in his eyes, Cesar smiled, taking in a deep breath before grabbing the music sheets and opening the door, stepping outside and following his mother to the front door. He felt the pressure in his chest finally begin to wane, though the hesitation he felt didn’t leave him as he hugged his mother and parted ways to go backstage. He stared at the music sheets, taking in yet another deep breath as he shut his eyes. “Focus…on the music.” He muttered under his breath. “Just…breathe.”

Ms. Torres took a seat in the auditorium, sitting next to a few other parents, presumably there for their own children’s performances along with her. She looked around the large room before placing her purse on her lap, digging through it before pulling out one of the larger objects inside of it; a personal camcorder. She held onto it, looking up towards the front of the room, seeing the large, jet black grand piano resting on the wooden stage. She couldn’t wait, even if she knew there were a few performances before Cesar’s. Sure, she was biased, but she knew Cesar was going to sweep the floor with the others, even if he was less confident in his abilities.

Cesar sat backstage, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the metal folding chair was as he looked over his music sheets, checking over and over that they’re in the correct order. He felt cold, and his hands shook despite the decent temperature in the room. He could hear someone on the stage, performing and playing music that would be calming, if Cesar didn’t know he was next on the list. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, it ticking ever so slightly, nearing 9:00. Despite how quiet the ticking was, each one felt like a drill in his skull. The deep breaths weren’t helping his nausea and borderline lightheadedness anymore, and his leg began to bounce up and down as he tried to push it all away.

“You’ve been practicing for a month now,” Cesar thought to himself. “You know it by heart; it’s going to be fine. You have to impress them. Don’t be a baby about this.”

He pressed his hand against his head as he worriedly stared at nothing in particular, shutting his eyes as he tried to think to himself. The music was fading away, and the sound of the audience clapping tore Cesar out of his train of thought, making him open his eyes and sit up completely straight. He suppressed the urge to hyperventilate as he saw the teenager that was on stage walk into the room, immediately leaving to join the audience, he presumed.

He stood up, holding his papers and approaching the entrance to the stage, waiting for his name to be called. He stood still, able to hear a pulsing in his head, unsure if it was the steadily forming headache, or simply his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He took in a few breaths, exhaling after each one, and as soon as he heard his name, he swallowed his sudden fear and stepped out onto the stage.

It was complete silence as he walked towards the grand piano, glancing towards the large auditorium, the sheer amount of people in there being unclear due to being concealed by the bright spotlights limiting his view. He felt blank; unsure if the seemingly clear mind was due to too many thoughts at once or none at all. He sat on the bench, placing his papers on the music desk of the piano, looking at them, seeing the name “Shubert’s Serenade” at the top as he held his slightly shaking hands over the keys, holding his breath for a moment before playing the first note.

The solemn song echoed throughout the auditorium, the audience silent as they listened intently, with Cesar’s mother filming with a faint smile. Cesar tried to focus on the music like she had suggested, though something was itching in the back of his mind, with the quieter moments of the song making it only try and drown out the serenade he was playing. He pushed through each bar of music, without flaw, slowly beginning to feel his unease wash away. He felt calm, with the music, while gloomy, making him feel more at ease. He approached a quieter section, his hands moving across the keys as he played. He felt a sense of peace, despite the crowd of people to his right.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Cesar missed a note.

He glanced to his right, seeing that no one’s expression had changed, nor did anything seem out of the ordinary. He began to wonder if it was just his mind playing tricks on him until he heard it again; faint ticking, coming from somewhere just out of sight. He shook his head slightly, flinching when one of his fingers slipped and hit the note next to the correct one. He could feel his chest become tight again, and he had to suppress the urge to bounce his leg, lest he accidentally hit or let go of the pedal of the piano at the wrong time. He swallowed hard, telling himself that it was only for a few minutes. He played the wrong note again, the action making him grimace slightly.

Someone laughed.

He glanced towards the crowd, seeing from his limited view that none of them were necessarily happy, but he heard murmuring that he couldn’t make out. He tried to continue playing, only missing more notes, each time making someone in the crowd let out a mean-spirited chuckle. Cesar could feel his breathing quickening, hearing faint, otherworldly laughing in the distance as he played, the timing of the song becoming off the longer he went. Ms. Torres looked at him with furrowed brows and a look of concern, wondering what was going on for Cesar to act so strangely, knowing there weren’t any audible distractions she could hear.

Cesar’s jaw was clenched, and each note was becoming harder to play as his hands stiffened and shook. He was slowly losing his grasp on the song, with the notes on the page even seeming to warp in his view despite nothing changing. He felt something behind him, refusing to look back until he was done with the song. He lost track of the bass line of the song for a moment, the action making the crowd in his head laugh again. He could hear the ticking of a clock, pounding in his ears like gunfire. His chest heaved as he looked down at the keys, trying to maintain his composure until—

Something dripped onto one of the white keys; a crimson liquid.

Another drop hit the ivory, Cesar only realizing after being able to taste it that it was blood, running down from his nose. He saw something in both sides of his peripheral vision, reaching towards his head. He Cesar stared at the keys, the song becoming dissonant as the bony hands reached towards his face.

A loud bang of discordant notes echoed throughout the hall as Cesar slammed his hands against the piano, standing up and pushing the bench back as he did so. The audience flinched, letting out surprised gasps before muttering to each other. Cesar swung to look behind him, seeing nothing before turning back towards the piano, grabbing his sheets before storming off of the stage, wiping his rapidly bleeding nose with his hand. Ms. Torres stood up, watching him disappear backstage before she shut off her camcorder, shoving it into her bag before brushing past the concerned people sitting next to her. She walked down the aisle, feeling tight in the chest as she walked around the building, calling Cesar’s name as she looked for the backstage entrance.

She burst through the backstage door, looking around and only seeing the surprised looks of the other performers before she walked past them with a quick “sorry”. She looked up, seeing the door leading outside before rushing towards it, swinging it open as she looked into the parking lot. She couldn’t see anyone there, though when she turned towards the street, she saw the rearview headlights of their car disappearing down the road.

“Cesar?!” She called, rushing down the concrete stairs before running into the parking lot, watching as the car drove away, exceeding the speed limit. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to conceal her worry and fear. “…O-Oh, no, Cesar…Que ha pasado ahora...”

Cesar pulled into the driveway as soon as he made it across town, shutting it off and hopping out, leaving his sheets in the car as he slammed the driver’s door shut. He muttered obscenities under his breath as he rushed into the house, swinging open the door and closing it when he was inside, all while holding his blood-stained hand under his nose. He walked quickly past the living room, through the kitchen, and into the back hallway, flicking on the light of the bathroom. He grabbed the toilet paper, tearing it off of the roll before pushing it under his nose to catch the blood. His breathing was uneven and his eyes watered, bordering on sobbing as his wide eyes stared at the sink.

“Fuck…y-you fucking idiot, this is the only car you drove there…” He groaned under his breath. He sighed, throwing the paper under his nose into the trash before turning on the faucet and washing his hands of his blood. Red stained water ran down the drain as Cesar felt the nose bleed subside, and as soon as his hands were at least mostly clean, he shut off the water, pressing his hands against the counter as he tried to regain his composure.

He looked up with a deep exhale, staring at himself through the mirror, seeing how red his eyes were due to the crying. His left eye appeared to be covered by his black hair in the reflection, despite it being above his eye in reality. Cesar stared at the reflection, brows furrowing when he realized that the lights in the hallway were off in the reflection, but not when he turned behind him to verify that they were on. “…Wh…” He turned back towards the mirror, eyes widening when he realized that his reflection was smiling at him.

Cesar couldn’t even let out a scream before his shoulders were grabbed by the reflection in the mirror, pulling him through it without struggle. Cesar yelled, feeling himself fall towards the floor, a water-like liquid splashing onto him when he hit the ground. He laid on the ground for a moment, feeling his clothes being stained with the thin layer of red liquid that rested above the tiles of the bathroom. The smell was nauseating, smelling of iron and rust, along with rotting wood and fresh paint. It was completely pitch black past the light of the mirror, the yellow lights from it bleeding into the mirrored room.

Cesar’s panic spiked again as he scrambled to his feet, looking down at his feet to see he was ankle deep in blood, or something that appeared to be blood. He looked back towards the mirror, seeing the bathroom he was used to, and he raised his hands, slamming against the mirror, loud bangs echoing from each impact as he began to hyperventilate. “NO! No, no NO, PLEASE, LET ME OUT OF HERE!” He cried, tears running down his face as he attempted to break the “glass.” “LET ME OUT…PLEASE…please…” He squeaked the last words out, looking through the mirror before a figure emerged from behind the counter, standing up, it’s limbs cracking as it moved. Cesar’s eyes widened in horror as he stared at the figure, his heart dropping at the realization that it was his own face looking back at him.

“A round of applause…” The alternate’s voice was breathy, sounding as if he was out of breath through his wide smile. Its bloodshot eyes stared at Cesar, thick, dark blood leaking from his nose, right eye, and from behind the hair covering his left eye. It was even wearing his suit, albeit torn and hanging together by threads. “It must feel nice…to come home after your performance. Make yourself comfortable, Cesar.”

Cesar grimaced as he curled his hands into fists, slamming them into the mirror as he screamed for someone, anyone to come to his rescue, watching as the alternate flicked the light off, walking down the hallway before closing the bathroom door. Cesar cried, sliding his blood-stained hands down the mirror as he lowered his head, sobbing to himself as he covered his face. This wasn’t happening; it couldn’t be happening. Maybe he would wake up, realizing it was nothing but a fucked up nightmare, and that everything would be okay. However, when he heard a loud, deep creaking from the dark, mirrored home around him, he realized it wasn’t as simple as that. The walls creaked, moving with every groan of the support beams. Tree-branch like marks covered the walls from what he could see, pulsing slightly.

Mark was right. The walls were breathing.

--

September 15th, 1992. 10:56 PM.

 Mark was awoken by his cellular phone ringing. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep on the couch that evening, finding himself sprawled across the sofa when he groggily opened his eyes. He sleepily turned towards the coffee table, hearing the ear-splittingly annoying ringtone from his blocky cell phone. He let out a tired groan as he reached towards it, nearly falling off of the couch before grabbing it and holding it up to his ear after accepting the call.

“…H’llo?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for the response.

“Hey, it’s Cesar; I hope it’s not too—”

“Cesar?” Mark sat up, brows furrowing and his already hauntingly vacant stare becoming more harrowing. “What—why are you calling me this late? You haven’t talked to me in days and you’re calling me now?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just…” Cesar sounded…strangely out of breath. “It’s not me, it’s my mom. She didn’t show up at my recital on Monday—”

“What? I didn’t…even know you had a recital.” Mark murmured as he rubbed his eyes. “You…didn’t…invite me—N-Never mind, fuck, what happened to your mom?”

“I don’t know, but…I’m at the police station to report a missing person, so I just…wanted to ask you a favor?” Cesar continued.

Mark remained silent for a moment, glancing around his empty living room with furrowed brows. “After…ignoring me for so long, you want me to do a favor for you?”

“Look, I-I know it’s been…rough lately, but I really need just this one thing,” Cesar sighed. “Can you please at least…listen?”

“Listen to you?” Mark scoffed. “You barely listen to—”

“You know the cameras we installed after we were robbed?”

Mark let out a sigh as his statement was once again pushed aside. “…Yes, what about them?” He asked with barely disguised annoyance.

“I was wondering if you could…turn them on. I’m worried that while I’m gone something might…happen?”

“Fuck no.” Mark’s tone darkened. “I already told you, I’m not going back to that fucking house. Besides, I thought you didn’t want me there anymore.”

“I was just…angry, okay, but I’m better now. Besides, I checked everywhere, and there’s nothing here.” Cesar responded. “Please, can you do this? Just this once? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Mark absentmindedly scratched his neck, staring ahead blankly. “…I…God…” He thought intently for a moment before speaking again. “Alright. I’m just going to go in there, turn them on, and then leave though…that’s it.”

“And that’s all you need to do.” Cesar said. “Thank you for this, really. I appreciate it.”

“…No…n…no problem.”

 Mark felt empty as he drove to Cesar’s house. No thoughts ran through his head, as much as if felt like there should’ve been, and his stare remained blank, fixed on the road in front of him. His hands were clamped on the steering wheel, grasping the leather hard enough that it hurt. His breathing was deep, yet quiet, feeling oddly calm knowing the circumstance. It was as if he felt like he made the right decision, though deep inside he wished he didn’t take the offer, no matter if it helped he and Cesar’s friendship or not.

Mark glanced down at his hand, seeing traces of lazily washed off doodles drawn on his forearm before he grasped his sleeve, pulling it over the organic looking drawings. He shook his free, bandage-wrapped hand for a second, and then pushed his hair out of his face before grasping the wheel once again. In and out. Go in, turn on the cameras, and get out. That’s all he needed to do.

Mark parked on the other side of the road, opposite of the home before he stepped out of the vehicle. His hands shook by his sides as he hesitantly walked across the street, his sneakers hitting the pavement then eventually the driveway being the only sounds he could hear for miles. Not even the crickets seemed to be chirping that night, and the air was still and cool. Mark couldn’t help but feel a chill go up his spine as he approached the front door, reaching for the doorknob before pausing. He raised his other hand, clasping his necklace before taking in a breath, and opening the door.

He felt like he was going to throw up when he heard the grandfather clock ticking again. He let go of the door, keeping it open as he carefully looked around, looking up at the living room ceiling before spotting the first camera. He walked towards it, avoiding eye contact with the clock before reaching towards the camera and locating the switch. However, when he saw it, he paused; the camera was on, and the red light was switched on as well. He lowered his arms, turning towards the archway leading to the kitchen to look for the next camera.

The next camera wasn’t much better; red light was flashing, and the switch was on. He growled in annoyance, wondering in confused silence why Cesar asked him to turn the cameras on when they were already active. If anything, it was wasting both of their time, though nevertheless, Mark decided to try his luck with the other cameras. He looked around the room, spotting the basement door, before he turned towards the back hallway, freezing when he saw the camera above the bathroom door, finally seeing a camera without its red light on.

Mark couldn’t help but notice the pit forming in his stomach as he approached the dark hallway, eyes fixed on the camera above him. It felt oddly cold as he walked further into the hallway he swore was shorter, feeling as if the floorboards were less firm than they used to be. He looked up at the security camera above him raising his left arm to find the switch, only to see it wasn’t near the back with the wires like the others, making him furrow his brows as he grazed his hand across the metal searching for it. Finally, he found the switch, being on top of the camera, where he could barely reach. He was done; at least he hoped that the others were already on as well, so his job would be short.

He tried to stand on his flat feet, no longer standing on his toes until he felt a dull, hot pain in his left hand, as if it was burning. He winced, trying to remove his hand from the overheating camera, only to find that it didn’t budge. He stared at it, jerking his arm back, though the action didn’t free his hand either, even as the pain began to increase in intensity. He muttered curse words under his breath as he pulled his arm away, all before the camera broke off of its base, the wires that didn’t sever coming with it. Mark let out a yell as he looked at the camera in his hand, beginning to fabricate stories to explain the broken tech, until he turned it around. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw why he couldn’t move his hand.

The skin of his hand looked as if it was melting, fusing with the metal of the camera’s casing as if they were one entity since the beginning. He could see his veins becoming one with the wires, and his skin was becoming pale and thin near the fusion point. Mark tried moving his fingers, only able to see his bones and tendons move slightly under his skin. His breathing was becoming frantic as he pressed his right hand against it, attempting to free himself as he let out surprised and horrified yelps.

“Hello, Mark.”

Mark’s gaze snapped towards the noise, seeing a figure at the end of the hallway like a living shadow. “C…Cesar?” Mark’s voice shook as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, backing away into the corner and pressing his right hand against the wall for stability. It wasn’t Cesar; he could see it.

It was tall, and malnourished, with its limbs bent oddly, as if they barely held up his body. His smile was stretched wide across his face, his one right, bloodshot eye unblinking as it stared at Mark with glee. Mark looked towards his left eye socket, feeling as if he was about to vomit when he saw that the eye wasn’t even there. Protruding from the socket was many dull colored veins, almost like wires in a machine made of flesh. The veins and arteries fused with the skin on the left side of his face, as well as wrapping around his head and fusing to the back of his skull and neck. His skin almost looked dead, a paler version of the real Cesar’s skin tone. The look of it made Mark sick, the feeling of dread overpowering the burning he felt in his right hand.

“You seem tense.” “Cesar” said softly, his smile not once fading. “Why don’t you relax? You’ll be staying here for a while.”

Mark stared at what was left of the alternate’s face, his eye wide as familiarity rushed over him. The smile Mark saw in the mirror, the tall figure he saw in his dreams; even his voice felt like a jackhammer in his skull. He could hear the ticking and beating of the clock everywhere, steadily growing louder as he turned around, seeing that his right hand was immovable, and slowly sinking into the wall. “Y…You…WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Mark shouted, eyes full of fury as he tried to free his arm, noticing that his right leg was hard to move as well.

“You…make things so…difficult for us.” Cesar tilted his head. “It chose you! You should be honored to be such…an esteemed guest.”

“Wh…What chose me?!”

“It just wants the best for you, don’t you realize that?” Cesar asked calmly. “These walls, the rooms and halls; they’re safe. Secure. I don’t understand why someone would want to leave Home like you seem to.”

Mark remained silent, looking down to see his shin halfway in the wall. The burning sensation rushed over his body as it fused with the drywall and wallpaper, all while he felt a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. He screamed, both in pain and horror for anyone to hear, hoping someone could free him despite his own flesh and bones deconstructing.

“Welcome Home, Mark.” Cesar said. “All its guests welcome you.”

White hot tears ran down Mark’s face, feeling his head throb with every tick of the clock, trying to pull himself out of the wall; away from his fate of being consumed in the belly of the beast. He stared at “Cesar” with hatred, the smile on its face making him burn with anger. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” He screamed, his throat shot and his nose gushing with blood. “I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

Cesar didn’t even flinch at the yelling as Mark thrashed around, all attempts to free himself being fruitless. He stared at the replication of his friend as he shouted and sobbed, all until Home took away his mouth and eyes too.

Rest, my dear.            

Welcome Home.

#shmorp writes sometimes #Mandela catalogue #tmc #tmc Home Sweet Home au #blood tw #gore tw #body horror #face horror #tw paranoia #paranoia inducing #(supernaturally caused but. just in case) #mark heathcliff #cesar torres #alt cesar #uh. does. Ms. Torres even. have a tag? #anyway. this was. supposed to be the prologue but uh. I got a tad silly wacky so. here's. a VERY long fic by my standards- #But hey I think you guys will like this au for real :) #ask me if theres any tags I should add by the way. just want to make sure this is properly tagged #cause. theres a lot to this one-

[lalacatland]

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

INTRODUCTIONs for this abomination! ❥╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╯ in case anybody actually finds this!?

✮┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

lalacatland is literally just a group blog from a gang who are messing around and got no idea what they're doing ♪ if we tag anything inappropriately (when we properly tag stuff?) please send us an ask, the admin will rush to fix it~ FOR YOUR KNOWLEDGE: most of the members post whatever, be it fandoms or anything else so keep that in mind BYF now thats outta the way we can move onto each members introduction! ♡ ↓

»»———-　　———-«« @remiiox ₓ˚. the self proclaimed role-model of the group, yup. anyhow, i do not care what pronouns you use for me in the slightest so go crazy! im a closeted fool who is often lazing around on their computer or mobile device, dont fret as i dont bite. i have professionally diagnosed Autism, but for safety reasons theres no way i can send proof. i enjoy video games the most, i'll list my top interests~ Oneshot, Project Sekai, Deltarune and Undertale along with small budget franchises such as Hyperdimension Neptunia and Death end Re;Quest! MINOR but dont let that scare ya away as if im a bat in a cave~ »»———-　　———-«« @luminocitie ✩ͯ. hello! im luminocitie, but you can call me Sunny! my pronouns are they/them, if you have a gendered language, using he/him is ok! im aroace, im agender, i have ADHD my current interests are deltarune and undertale, but this may change »»———-　　———-« @crystalizepanda ˊ⸊ˎ ♡ Hi everyone! ✦ 〳 I generally go by the names Crystal and Alora, but you can refer me with any name/nickname as long as it's appropriate. I'm one of the members and friend that run the blog group, lalacatland. Pleasure to welcome you! ✦ 〳 This group consists of goofy posts and all of that sense of humor we like to engage in as we extend our silliness to the core. Nonetheless, we're here to have fun and participate in anything that entertains ourselves in constant joy and laughter :) ✦ 〳 Additionally, I'm a Christian that likes to encourage one another with passion and the Lord's strength. I am also a neurodivergent with autism spectrum disorder and my biological gender is a female. ✦ 〳 Furthermore, if you have any consistencies or concerns you would like to share with me, don't hesitate! I am here to provide and respond as soon as possible. If you want to interact with me as well, you're more than welcome to do so at your own will! No judgment intended! :) * May God bless you all and the opportunities that fulfill your life and future! ✞ ♡ »»———-　　———-«« @melodyzzx ┊ ˚｡˚

hello 🤯

js a brief introduction about me i guess

- my preferred names are calix, ace, and melody

- pronouns are they/them & he/him

- i'm aroace 🤯

- my current interests are jujutsu kaisen, mashle, and etc. 💡

- i like playing games, listening to music and drawing 🤯‼️

- my favorite colors are red and blue ‼️😋 »»———-　　———-«« @onyxvv ˊˎ﹤ | Heya, you can call me Onyx or Comet, I don't mind whichever one you prefer to call me as! | They/Them pronouns, pansexual n' nonbinary! | Your local artist n' gamer, and MLP or any animes and video games are some of my interests!! »»———-　　———-«« @crimsoncaprisun ◦ ≫ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.〰₊⋆

┆Name.ᐟ; Rain

┆prns ;She/They ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁‧₊˚✩彡

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა additional info!

☆💬。・socials ; if u wanna chat w/ me privately, add me on disc or insta! (im mostly active there so I do apologize) or dm/pm me here (as, I normally do I have my notfis on..)

Disc - drainj

Insta - Rainvibezx (pfp is a black cat in a blue bucket and the bio should say “:) I dont post much rlly but ya “)

★‧₊˚ - i like bred

☆・．❕「My friends will be more active than me ☠️」

11:11 ♡ »»———-　　———-«« DISCLAIMER: if anything is reposted (such as memes and etc, no art will be reposted, it will be reblogged if anything) then you can send an ask for credit up to removal, we wish for no trouble. anything with the tag #creationofthelalacats is ours!

#lalacatland #remiios lala land #LUMINOCITIE COOL TAG #crystalthescrunklychild #cometsstash #RainFarrlz (FAIR-ROLLS/Z) #calixtherealcalifornia #we are bread likers btw #BEWARE: REMIIO LOVES RATS STAY AWAY #warning! warning!! rainy boos intro is SYMBOL INFESTED #we're cringe as...... #introduction #blog intro #intro post #pinned intro

[shiftingconfessions]

its me again. i'm the one with an omega-verse DR. i wanted to share more about it because someone reblogged it & asked why- but they had anon asks turned off so im sharing here :(

my omega-verse DR is completely non-sexual! its more focused on the "family pack" aspect. mostly, i just wanna go there for the hell of it. but also, here me out, it seems rlly rlly fun.

i used to be an omega-verse avoider tbh, i couldnt read anything to do with it (because i thought it was all smut.) but i was scrolling through Ao3, & i saw a fic with a premiss i rlly liked, but then i looked closer at the tags & i saw A/B/O Dynamics. So i was like, "ew, no way." & found smth else. but i kept seeing similar fics with good premises & eventually i decided, why not check it out, & clicked on one. & it was all focused on the unique family aspects & the way A/B/O Dynamics affected the characters & the story,,, but it was also superr fluffy & sweet;,, & now im worried im a furry.

maybe i should add that im autistic & used to feel like i related way more too animals than i did to people 🤷 that might have smth to do with it.

but anyways, the fic was SO SWEET. it had the best ammount of hurt/comfort & it was like,, "that seems kinda fun!" & i. i decided i wanted to go there <3

my DR is heavily altered from traditional omega-verse. like i already said, it's completely non-sexual. theres isnt any inherent hierarchy either, omegas have just as much agency as an alpha or beta does. the main role A/B/O roles play are what role you play in ur family &, like, individual needs. im a superhero in my DR, & the rest of my "pack" is my superhero team. its fun to incorporate animal-istic tendencies into fighting crime 😆👍

.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #desired reality #shifting community #shifting

[thepowerisyouth]

Eh mental health is annoying. Buying & cooking cheap low-FODMAP diet is annoying. My best top note for now is I'm using this blog to practice writing. I need more practice in it. I only know business, accounting & economics stuff. Its stupid stuff. Theres too much actual fraud everywhere that its annoying

Also I use mobile so formatting sucks cause Nvidia GPUs, or Arch dont like tumblr site. Or tumblr site dont like tumbkr site

Also also I 100,000% support all my fellow ones-and-zeros and their identity. Everyone is welcome here.

Except transphobes/zionist/long list of others but you get it. I'll help harrass any of those types endlessly if someone wants to tag me, and bring me in on an argument like that friend you call for backup with fights

Im unhinged so who's to say exactly what will end up here but this is also a completely public blog to me friends, family, hell, even acquaintances i dont give a fuc.

Blog should be expected to be roughly as child-friendly as simpsons or bobs burgers. But also boring like a civics/economics lesson sometimes. Yay

--------

I (and my husband) am ex mormon. Its a weird thing. Look into it if you havent recently. Realllllyyyy look into. Takes time to figure it all out in this fuckin fucked up world.

I just moved a year ago. Didnt watch the US stock market as much as I normally do. Had my first snowstorm 10 weeks ago, that was.. fun to handle while ill prepared. About 6 weeks ago I was hopping back on the market and notice its a huge tech bubble about to pop and all the conditions Ive been warned about my whole career imply this is not good. Just took a little more thinking & digging and I'm a little too confident to stop talking about it now.

(Oh I'm also care-free as fuc so I dont really read or desire to change past posts more than lil-nitpicks. More informative for the reader & myself-in-the-future-reading that way)

And I'm not kidding I do love feedback & questions. Its a very public blog tho so I get that part for sure.

If you search "life story" in my tags I had that pinned for a min Im just moving shit around rn

Being poor sucks. Will write more on that later.

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

First of all-- the exact timeline of an "economic shock" is literal insanity. Dont worry about the exact timing of any of this-- just know its doomed to happen soon.

Here are some effects I predict of this upcoming economic downturn

If anyone comes across any sources for these events that support my arguments please feel free to add in comments, reblogs, etc.

This concise list is mainly for my own reference, but it would be great to add to it if any one has something to add!

0.5. US Stock market collapse-- I have no desire to try and predict this one exactly. Too many conspiracies are actually correct about this big guy. Lets just say 7 US Tech stocks are worth 25% of the entire worlds market, roughly. "Too big to fail"-- I believe is the phrase

1. Corporate (slightly later will be residential by extension) real estate crisis: currently way too overvalued. Most of the houses, land, & urban corporate property we see could stand to decrease by about 60-90% from its current price.

2. Bankruptcy crisis: similar to the after-effects of the 70s inflation-- we can expect to see a huge wave of bankruptcies affecting a variety of business: from the micro-self employed; to the small business with leased buildings; to the largest corporations who commit massive accounting fraud & hope to escape accountability in time

3. Bank runs-- there is an extremely high overreliance on the Federal Reserve, who does not have good control over this situation. Once it becomes clear that there is a crisis (we call this a catalyst event)-- bank runs for physical cash are a surety. Hard to say how long a crisis like this might last. I should ask my siblings who lived near the SVB bank crisis hotspot (but those were rich fucks they do their "bank runs" over the phone)

3.5. Global currency collapse, which takes effect in every single local, state, & national economy at slightly different times. This means prices lower. Much lower. But takes time

4. Whatever the fuck the geopolitics is gonna do???. Its weird. You got Russia wanting to invade Europe? (Look at global economic forum 2024) Trump wants to let them. Biden wants to be an establishment corporate ass. North Korea has changed its #1 public enemy to South Korea (dont remember my source but it was a couple months ago). USA is stationing more troops in Taiwan, but probably only because of semiconductor technology?

The scope of our global financial woes are larger than can be explained in any of our lifetimes. Its much, much closer to pre-revolution France or the late 1920s. Big change is coming. Itll be soon

5. More to come

#anti capitalism #economics #geopolitics #real estate #bankruptcy #banks #corporate fucks #pinned post #mental health sucks ball sacks #arch linux #nvidia is a scam bubble like enron #simpsons #bobs burgers #intro post #will change it more later

[scary-lasagna]

Can you give me writing tips kitty? And how to attract readers 🙏🏾

Of course!! This is just whatever came off the top of my head but I’m happy to share more if asked :]

Writing Tips

I’ve taken two years of Creative Writing in highschool, so I’m calling back from whatever I remember.

One of the main things I’ve been trying to do recently is lack filler words. “Was, has, had, were, are, could, etc”. Using these words often will make your writing seem less exquisite than it is, and it can also contribute to the creation of run-on sentences.

Use grammarly. It’s really great and lives up to the hype :]

Writing exercises. They work! Theres different kinds, ranging from simply writing whatever you want, to writing what you don’t want. It will expand your horizons and dip your toes in uncomfy waters that you should be uncomfy in.

Another writing exercise that we did was different styles of writing. Poetry, instructions, descriptions, and even mimicking authors’ writing styles to understand how they write like they do.

A thesaurus is a good investment, not saying you have to buy one, but grammarly has one built in. You can switch out certain words to make them sound more well-thought out and better spoken.

Rereading your work, revising and editing is very important. You will catch your mistakes, and add in words and sentences to accentuate your text.

Another pair of eyes can also help with this, and will also give you an unbiased view of how well your writing flows, as well as any errors you may have missed.

Write convos how you would speak. Dont make it stiff like how the characters are taking, but rather if you were in the conversation yourself. Dont be afraid to add in the spotted “‘Uh, ‘but’, stutters, pauses, and even using ‘voice’ in words.

How to attract readers

Comedy sells! People will always love a quick laugh, no matter what it is. Could be a quote post or even just a shitpost that will take off overnight. Either way, it will guide people to your blog.

Know what people like. Post polls, pay attention to notes and reblogs, and see what’s popular on others’ blogs. Certain audiences may like short headcanons, and others may like long paragraphs, and some will even like full stories!

Play into the algorithm with tags. Tag your heart out, because ultimately this is your blog’s main income for new readers!

Think about what you would type if you’re searching for a certain something. “Creepypasta x reader”, “[Character] x reader”, “Creepypasta headcanons”, “platonic”, “yandere x reader” and the like. You won’t be able to control who reblogs your posts, but you’ll be able to plop your post right into the laps of those who ask for it!

#writing advice #creepypasta #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta blog #writing tip

[the-francakes]

Welcome to tumblr now what...

Hi, I wrote this up for my cousin because she’s never used any platform, but since a lot of twitter users are coming to tumblr, I thought I would share as someone that has been here... way too long. This blog might only be a year old, but i lived through tumblarity. both times. ugh. 

cause i will use this interchangeably and forget to clarify, tumblr dash (short for dashboard) is more or less the same as twitter feed. 

likes - these are a thumbs up. A nice little ‘hey this post is cool!’ or ‘i agree with this post.’ users can elect in settings to have their likes visibly on their page, meaning when you go to their actual tumblr, theres a link to liked posts. however, i have always disabled this in the same vein that none of you will ever see my ao3 history. if you get a like, you’ll get notified, but that’s all it really does in the grand scheme of things. 

reblogs - if theres a post you want to share, reblog it.  reblogging it puts it on the dash (feed) of anyone that follows you. tumblr does have a setting to see popular posts, ‘in your orbit,’ or ‘for you’ as in things it thinks you may like.  it has a setting for recommended posts into your feed. i, and mostly everyone i know, disable these features and rely solely on their dash.  so assume if you’re reblogging this post, you’re sharing it to make sure the people that follow you also see it. if no one reblogs this post, then only the 150 people that follow me will see it and it will die. which is totally cool. im rambling all over this shit and forgot what capital letters are. its probably half wrong anyways. 

some people will say always reblog instead of like. i think its give or take. it depends on what you like, what you want to share, you’re weird taste in shit you want people to know about and not know. if you reblog, you will make sure more people see something wonderful and its a really lovely and free way to help writers, artists, etc. spread their art.

commenting on a reblog - its not necessary.  I probably do it once in a blue moon these days.  adding a comment in your reblog is like jumping into the conversation. usually i reserve this for things that are important and want others to build on as well. or continue the shitpost cause i like to think im funny sometimes. if its something like my bullshit commentary that really does not apply to anything in the post or i dont want spread on everyone’s dash as they go on to reblog it, i write it in the tags. for example, please reblog this and add anything i missed that helps you navigate tumblr. write in the tag if you think its bullshit and i should delete. 

replies - replies were made because when they didn’t exist, people would have ‘dash conversations’ by reblogging one post over and over and over and over again.  it would be a post of 50+ posts of two people having a conversation and about things like is it red or blood orange.  this was especially awful in rp when sometimes posts would only be a few sentences asking ‘hey whats up how are you.’ so use a reply if you want to tell the original poster something, but youre not adding onto the post.  a good reply to this post would be a ‘thanks for posting this’ but a good reblog with a comment would be ‘i agree, but also you forgot this important bit!’ 

something different than twitter (i think???) - your replies do not just show up on someone’s dash. they have to click the little word bubble on the post to read them. 

tagging - tagging someone with an @ will give them a notification that you mentioned them in your post.  you can also tag in replies.  you don’t need to tag the original poster in a reply because they will get a notif that says ‘___ replied to your post.’ my brain is fuzzy here, but i believe if you put a reply on a post that is a reblog, both the current poster/reblogger and the original poster will get notifs. i only say this cause some people get annoyed by too much tagging, but as someone that doesnt give a shit, just always tag me. tumblr eats shit or doesnt work sometimes, so just blow up my notifs. 

asks/submit - some people enable you to ask or submit posts.  when they answer the ask or approve the submission, it will end up as a post on their dash.  if the ask is not anon, they can also reply privately. a lot of people do not allow anons these days because while tumblr is one of the better social medias ive encountered, there are still some assholes that like to send hate anons. and i will say this for the people skimming this - ASKS GET EATEN. aka they disappear from asks boxes or don’t even show up. if someone says they didn’t get it, there’s probably like an 80% chance they are not lying. there’s a 20% chance they are and don’t want to answer it but like that’s their choice too. 

messaging - for the new kids, this is DMing. for the cool kids in back, this feature was enabled cause aol took aim away from us. this caused a huge panic of how do we privately talk to our friends since while replies are okay for convos, anyone can see them and tbh can get cumbersome for longer communication.  i use this feature a lot to send my friends posts that i need to make sure they see.  maybe its not my sort of content id reblog, but i know for a sure thing they will love it, so im passing it along for them to reblog, laugh at, tell me im an asshole cause its a meme making fun of them, etc. 

ask games - sometimes people reblog posts that say SEND ME A NUMBER and theres a list of numbered questions.  as i grew up here in roleplay, i was taught it was good tumblr etiquette to always send numbers to the person you reblogged from. I was also taught just to send numbers if you see them cause you’re cultivating friendships here and maybe you don’t know the person, but TRUST ME, they will love and appreciate you took the time to get to know them just a little. its not hard to send 1-5 and then fuck off but it will give them something fun to do and maybe make their entire day so.. send the numbers. 

WHAT YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO: who interacts with your posts a lot. do you see the same username liking your things? does the person reply a lot. FOLLOW THEM! reply to their posts! fangirl from afar and send a shy ask saying hi i love you. propose on the dash.  answer their questions. become FRIENDS. we’re all the weird kids here so don’t worry, we love you already. 

WHAT NOT TO DO: NEVER STEAL POSTS OR CONTENT. this means, you see a pretty piece of art- reblog it. do not right click, copy link to image, and make your own post.  love a passage someone wrote? see a HILARIOUS joke? do not copy and paste it into your own post.  If you feel in someway you NEED to do this, contact the original poster, ask permission and how they want to be credited.  you might have to link to their tumblr, you might have to link to their tumblr, ig, ao3, website, mom’s best friends snapchat, whatever... you listen to how they want to be credited and respect it. and if they say no? go reblog it and sit down. this is the same how you would never copy and paste someone’s tweet and say it as your own. or would you???? is that a thing??? maybe i shouldn’t be helping you come here... 

ALSO, JUST LIKE AO3, NOTES MEAN NOTHING. a lot of notes does not mean its a great post. Something can have 500 notes and its two friends shitposting ‘hi’ back and forth in the replies 250 times each.  and yes, this has happened before and will happen again because this is a hellscape. 

crabs/april fools/tumblarity/fonts and colors/xkit - you know how in YOU they have those like seven totems of living in LA? same concept except when you understand it all, you’re cursed to live here forever. you’re welcome. 

--- --- --- 

please expand, add to this, tell me im wrong, tell me to get off tiktok cause i need to stop yelling at children to let me love my favorite ships idc what canon says.  

the good news is, if you think you’re doing it wrong, then youre using tumblr right.  people might say don’t use it like a diary, but you bet ill write a long ass post venting about my depression and/or that my sock has a hole in the toe.  people say posts have to have content and length... brevity is the soul of wit or whatever and i love a good shitpost and i will reblog a post that is legit ‘wish i could pet a dog today.’ 

#tumblr #twitter #don't forget to feed your horse

[just-gay-thoughts]

Im very new to this site

How do I navigate it's kinda confusing and my ADHD keeps seeing colors and I can't figure out how to use things

Help pls 🙏

First of all, hi, welcome to the party!

Okay you figured out asks so yay! If you haven't noticed, theres also a little toggle for anonymous asks if you ever wish to send those, if I remember correctly though you can't send pics and vids on anonymous.

Basic getting started advice: use the search to find tags that you're interested in, it can be Fandom or hobby interests or anything really. You can choose to follow that tag (the option should be in the search bar after you've searched it, if that makes sense) and random posts from the tag will show up on your feed from time to time. You can also go through and follow people who post a lot in that tag that you enjoy the content of. Basic rule of advice for following people is to do it as freely as you wish, but don't feel bad about unfollowing for any reason.

And this explanation is going to be scatterbrained as I mention things as I think of them so I do apologize for that lol

Make sure you go into your settings and set your dashboard preferences to not include 'in your orbit' (or do, but most have their dash in chronological order rather than the more algorithmic version), this way you see stuff just from people and tags you follow.

Great ways to find people to follow are by searching like mentioned before, but also if you notice someone you follow reblogging someone's posts a lot and you enjoy those posts, that can be a great way to find more people.

You yourself can post as often as you want but there's a couple things to be familiar with that would show up on your blog.

The first is likes, which can be turned off (if I remember correctly the option might be when you go to edit your profile)

The second is reblogs, this is how posts get spread around. I like to think of it like likes are you telling the op they did a good job, and a reblog is you running to show your friends what you just found. It is greatly encouraged to reblog things like art and gifsets if you liked them because of the lack of algorithm on this site.

The last is your own posts, there should be a round plus button on mobile (it's been a bit since I've been on desktop but I think it's at the top?) That will take you to the text editor. I didn't llan ahead so this is the only one I have pictures for :)

Things to note: very bottom has the ability to add links, gifs, photos, audio, polls, and the Aa let's you edit the way text appears. Just above that you can add tags, many use tags for organization (I tend to use #gay thoughts for many of my own posts, eith #gay asks being added when I'm answering an ask), but there's also a huge culture around talking in the tags. Many add thoughts about the post in the tags, as anything said in a reblog will always stay with that version of a post, but tags are only visible when viewed from the actual reblog theyre on.

The 3 dots in the corner give you some additional options for your post

You can post it now or later, change who can reblog it, who can blaze it(pay money for it to appear on a number of random peopl's dashes), all that jazz!

Sorry if anything was hard to understand, please let me know if you have any other questions!

#gay thoughts #gay asks #very mentally tired so apologies for anything thats confusing

[cupcraft]

to add to the conversation about meta and critical analysis and stuff i just want to say that critical analysis isnt bad in general. Hear me out though keep scrolling if you dont want to read a long discoursey kinda post but its not neg for reference /srs.

NOT A VAGUEPOST! I am commenting solely on trends of things in the fandom since my experience being here since 2020 writing meta since january 2021.

---

many people (like me for example) enjoy writing analysis that is through a critical lens even though we enjoy the narrative and character. Some people enjoy writing through that lens and they dont like that character or narrative. some people dont like the narrative or character at all and it would be critical. i think at least in all my experiences in fandoms is a really normal part of fandom analysis and enjoying a story and is fine! if you maintag you for sure should tag your crit and stuff but in general i think this on the whole isnt bad. Gen really weird cc neg is bad, and theres some other nuance of course but thats not the main pt of my post, but i dont think thats the majority of critical analysis in any fandom including this one we are in here. I just want to stress that people engage in this fandom in various different ways as they do in all fandoms.

I think what is really stressful is the vagueing that goes on. and for the record i am not vagueing anyone specifically by saying that and none of my mutual or people i follow or anyone at all, once again i am commenting on trends ive seen /srs! Like meta has become really difficult in my experience in fear of the neg that comes along with it or the thought that people "hate the dream smp/the content" or "hate cc's" etc because of it or even "cc's dont do lore because of posts like this". And i think that's something that needs to be addressed and talked about because it's something that we're all aware of existing and its definitely been a source of contention i think...

I think reblogging someones meta directly to discuss or add your own points (i always include a pls add on personally!) and or sending that person an ask if theyre willing to is also fine. I also think being inspired by meta to write your own points is quite fine too, those are all really enjoyable parts of fandom analysis.

and to use a personal example i know a lot of people who dont like c!ranboo or his narratives and after the ghostboo caimsey stream i remember there being a lot of discourse. I personally dont block crit analysis or anything bc i usually like to read it regardless, but i remember having a vastly different view of that stream and the narratives! So what i did was make meta about the lore from my perspective without vagueing anyone or have ties to what i read. I just was like "i really liked xyz and heres why" kinda posts. Its also crit analysis and all sorts of meta in general that have helped me change my views of characters or explore new narratives because of the different views i see about it.

What i'm trying to say is that like i think we can exist in a world where fandom crit and meta and noncrit meta and silly hcs and etc. can be enjoyable and cohesive together though i do realize there is some nuance to what i'm saying and this doesn't really handle all circumstances within this discussion.

And maybe youre a person who crit analysis stresses them out and it ruins your fandom experience. I think this is very valid but i think in fandom spaces we need to find ways to curate our own experiences. i'll admit some lore discourse has stressed me out too but i generally dont engage with it or i start ask games or hc games or i write unrelated meta or things just to avoid it. I dont have a lot of solutions for this other than: tag discourse and crit in maintagged posts, ask people you are mutuals with or follow if they can tag something (though there is no guarantee someone will and thats a okay!! you may need to block this person or their personalized blog tags for lore analysis), and or do what i do and write meta about how you did love a stream and why and start new discussions. Though i'm not sure of any other solutions off the top of my head, so i'm happy to hear more solutions.

The reason i'm writing this post is because of the crit analysis = you hate a cc and you just hate the narratives and you dont love the dsmp at all and you hold them at too high a standard etc etc etc kinda mindset i've seen since like late 2021. Because i don't hate cc's or the narratives. if i did i wouldn't be in this fandom, i woudn't write meta or engage with the content at all. and the vagueposting that i've seen is very discouraging to see at the very least especially as i've noticed how things have evolved since 2020 fandom.

I'm not sure if this is a good post, or if it adds to the discussion well. Tbh im afraid this will start discourse in itself which isnt really the point (though i tagged it that way for blacklisting...). This post is intended to help our fandom space be more cohesive to allow people the space to take narratives where they want (with nuance of course!) and for people to curate their fandom experience how they want too.

So as i always do with meta please add on, please send me asks about this. Reply. correct me even!! though i have turned off rbs because im kinda nervous for such a large discoursey style post being rb-ed around. All i ask is just dont vague me or sc this...like my anons are on i'm happy to discuss this and vagueing stresses me out which should be obvious from me writing this whole post.

because i want us to have a healthy fandom experience if we can and I see how stressed out its made me and many people on dsmp.blr during lore discourse days/analysis moments/etc.

let me know your thoughts <3!

#discourse #fandom discourse #cup.dsmpblr #not crit or neg just kinda opening up the discussion #not a vaguepost #long post

[salt-baby]

You mentioned in one of your posts personalized knee braces, may I ask what you did to them? I need ideas to spice up my braces

absolutely! thanks so much for the ask! 

most of my gear is customized in some way or another, and a lot of it is either visible mending or visible-mending inspired

my knee braces are the bodyprox hinged knee brace, which are available over-the-counter and have served me pretty well! They've lasted about a year but I would probably recommend replacing them around six months

anyway the first signs of wear and tear were on the covers for the metal hinges on the side, so I took some embroidery floss and added some little decorative patches wherever it tore through and that held really well. this part of the brace doesn't have any effect on functionality, it just protects the hinges from scratching things, so I felt pretty safe repairing it. These could also be removed pretty easily to work on.

[Image ID: two black knee braces on a striped blue bedspread. The knee braces have covered hinges on each side, and the covers are worn through in multiple places. There are three embroidered spots on the covers: a sunflower, a smiley face, and a rainbow flag. / .End ID.]

eventually it was wearing through too much to keep up with. Most of the wear came from the inside, from the friction of the metal against the padded fabric, so when I eventually went to replace them entirely, I knew the most durable layer should be the innermost one.

inspired by this post, i ordered some eye-pattern quilters cotton and used some thrifted black denim to make new covers. They’re sewn (with a whip stitch, specifically) around the edges and seams with black dental floss. I’d also recommend upholstery or heavy-duty thread, since that holds pretty well, comes in a lot of colors, and is cheap. I added two layers of the cotton since I figured it would tear quickly and it did. heres when it was new:

[Image ID: a person wearing grey compression tights and black knee braces in front of a white background. The knee braces have been modified, so that the hinge covers are made out of an eyeball-pattern fabric with visible black stitching. / .End ID]\

the quilters cotton basically tore immediately, but I honestly think that it looks cool as it is. The denim has held up remarkably well! no tears or thin spots or anything! I used a thick, no stretch denim for it (honestly I think I destroyed a pair of Levi Jeans for it...)

there’s some spots in the back which have gotten all torn up from the velcro, and I would patch or darn those areas, but I’m about to get shiny new prescription knee braces, so it didn’t seem worth the trouble.

some other things i’ve thought about doing but didn’t was to whipstitch around the edges in a colorful thread or embroidery floss, modify the tag somehow or paint the little velcro tabs. Because of the little plastic loops, you could probably also add a chain if the clasp was big enough, like one of those shoe chains? you’d have to try and see! I think theres a whole world of possibility for self-expression using braces. 

if you do end up customizing your knee braces, I’d love to see them! If youre comfortable feel free to tag me in a post or dm me pictures!

I’ve also modified my wrist braces and my oval-8 ring splints, so if you (or anyone else) are curious about those, send me another ask and I’ll happily go into it! I just didn’t want to rant too much on one post.

#thanks so much for the ask! #these braces are the ones that were complimented #although im not sure if they complimented the embroidery version or the eyes version #disability #ehlers danlos syndrome #hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome #hypermobility #just in case i am unaffiliated with the links i shared #salt baby answers

[koko-doodle]

Oh are we talking about AO3 vs Tumblr? Here we goooo

-censorship is not a thing on AO3, any tags you want to use, not only can you use them, you SHOULD use them, its important for both those that want to find your fic and those that want to avoid your fic, its like a consent thing, people cant fully consent to the stuff in your fic if its incorrectly tagged

-theres multiple ways to keep track of a fic. Bookmarks, subscriptions, the history and "mark for later" features, or just hoarding the links if you dont want any of that

-when you've written and posted multiple fics its easy to keep track of interaction, I personally like to keep all the comments on my fics unmarked in my inbox (you can mark and unmark whenever you want as much as you want, its not permanent) along with the author replies to my own comments on fics, right now my inbox is 794 comments big. Outside of the inbox there's also the statistics page for all of your fics both individually and together, where you can see the number of views (hits), comments, bookmarks, subscriptions, and likes (kudos)

-on Tumblr if you have a multichapter fic you have to link each chapter together via editing, on AO3 you just have to add a chapter and its there, even if you don't mark it as a multichapter fic you can go back and change that whenever you want, you can also mark down the number of expected chapters, even if they're not posted, so it'll look like "4/18", or "4/?" From the reader side of things, navigating multichapter fics is pretty easy on AO3 (it can be easy on Tumblr too if each individual chapter is linked, but that's from extra effort on the writer's part), there's a drop down list so you can select a specific chapter and jump to that no matter where you are in the fic. When something old is updated and I need a refresher on what happened I go to the chapter before the latest update and reread that, then go to the next chapter to see the new stuff, its a good system

-a series is easy to keep together, when you're posting or editing theres an option to mark it as part of a series, where you either select from the series you've already made in a drop down list, or just type in the title of a new series and boom, that title is a new series. Very easy, no fussing over links, if you ever want to change the order of fics its very easy to do, you just go into the "series" page of your profile and there's a "reorder series" button up the top

-a Tumblr specific issue is that when you edit something, it wont affect any reblogs that had already happened, your typos can haunt you to the end of eternity. Obviously thats not a problem on AO3 (thank god, because I go back to fix things frequently)

-since AO3 isn't a social media site where the algorithms have full control and old things are pushed to the back of the line, the only way time can ever affect the popularity of your fic is if someone is going through the tag with it sorted by the date it was updated/posted, which is the default, yes, but not the only option. There is also a cultural issue of people from social media treating it like social media, where its "inappropriate" to comment on something old, which is absolutely ridiculous to me, but its not an entirely universal belief so you will still occasionally get comments on something that is 5+ years old

There's a lot more benefits to AO3, but I think these are the big ones for me

Whoever you are I owe you BIG TIME.

Who has the time to sit and write out an ask like this for an artist who is literally just too lazy to google it (and prefers opinion over fact on this subject). Then has the AUDACITY to do it as an anon?!?!?! You are too nice!

This info is so helpful!!! This answers most of my questions, thank you!

I offer you a waffle as a thank you, you mysterious squish. 💕

🧇

#koko rambles #ask

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw: sexual assault, controlling abusive behaviour, mental health issues, fat fetish

im 25, gay, and i live with my boyfriend who is a good bit older than me. we met on the internet when i was in low place during the pandemic and I was wanting some form of affection. I moved in with him about a year ago not long after losing my mother. I am also very fat, I always have been, and hes fit I knew going into it that he had a fetish for my weight i just wanted affection but since living with him it's gotten more intense and he says he doesnt 'want' me to get bigger but he likes my weight and he knows i obviously have problems with food anyway so he says he likes giving me what i want. he weighs me and measures me every week and i have to do it tomorrow. I never look at it he says he does it to make sure im not getting bigger. but im not an idiot. And i have to be naked when hes here I hate myself so much and i hate having to look at myself like this 24/7. I have no friends at all and I'm so isolated, hes the only person i really interact with apart from my therapist who he takes me to, I depend on him for so much and he controls my whole lifefor his own pleasure i have to go along with it no matter what. he knows everything about me he knows all my trauma from a past relationship like this where it was even worse, he infantalises me and keeps my money i have to ask him for things. i dont feel okay i feel like a zombie, im so confused and sad i dont know what to do. I dont have anywhere to go and i dont want to live like this. I know i should tell my therapist more about my relationship but im ashamed to say it and i dont even know if she can help me i feel like theres nothing i can do. I had a bad day and im so lonely

Oh the sexual assault tag was because he has had sex with me multiple times in my sleep even though i have told him i dont like it. he tells me it's not a big deal and that i like it. He knows i was r word in my late teensand i tell him thats why i dont like it i have cptsd from my first relationship and he says it's not the same thing. I just want advice on what i could do

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been going through. Please know that there's no need to feel ashamed, just as other survivors have nothing to be ashamed of. It's not your fault at all.

It sounds like your partner may have preyed on you during your low point in the pandemic and is taking advantage of you in several ways. It's controlling of him to demand you constantly weigh yourself and you deserve the right to say no. You also deserve the right to wear clothes around him if you want to. Isolation is also a key feature of abuse. It sounds like there may also be some financial abuse going on as well, with him in control of your money. I can definitely see how these things make you feel infantilized.

Please know that it can be considered rape to have sex with someone who is asleep because they are incapable of providing consent (unless it was agreed to prior, but that doesn't seem to be the case here). Especially knowing your history, he should respect that. While it may not be the exact same situation that you experienced previously, it's still not okay and you deserve better.

A therapist may not be able to directly help you leave this situation, though they can definitely provide emotional support much better than us. If it is safe to do so, I recommend looking into some local crisis resources. I'm not sure where you're located, but this is a super helpful resource regarding abusive relationships. They have ways to reach out, as well as forming a safety plan.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw sa #tw r #tw emotional abuse #trauma details

[bunny-rambles]

Greetings, dear bunny-rambles. Theres a question that i rlly wanted to ask of you.

So, at the start of me being a writer i started to read a lot of your works and among them were 'Rubedo x reader' types. And one day i had a small idea and decided that it would be nice to write it down.

The problem is, that even thou i mentioned in my work that this work was inspired by your writing and your take on Rubedo, and ofc! I credited you with your blog. I wouldnt dare to do otherwise, i respect u dearly. Even then i felt like it wasnt enough?

I dont want to abuse your trust so I wanted to ask if yourself if this is enough or if i should add smth else in description of my work? And if you would rather i simply delete my work entirely, that would be perfectly fine too!

Im so sorry that i didn't think of asking such a thing beforhand. At the time it didnt even crossed my mind that it might be not enough, but I know that it my fault so only hope you wouldnt be too angry with me.

Also, i apologise for sudden disturbance and for any grammar/spelling mistakes.

Ahh, you’re very sweet whenever we interact, there’s no need to act so formal with me :,)

But I have to tell you, from my understanding of this message, you were inspired to write your own stories from mine, correct?

It sounds like you tried to tag me into this story but I’ll be honest, I haven’t seen a tag from you, nor was I notified I was tagged in something.

But no matter, I wanted to tell you - if you’re inspired by me and my writing, that’s wonderful news and I’m fully supportive!! It actually makes me feel incredibly flattered, and the fact you went out of your way to tag me directly? That’s even more great !!

You don’t need my permission to write Rubedo pieces, he’s his own character, and I just wrote my own interpretation of him, but I appreciate you asking nonetheless

So no, don’t delete your work, I’m not mad or anything at you, it’s okay - bunny 💞

#bun speaks #greensheepishnerd

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

[determinate-negation]

hello! i found your blog a couple days ago and have been reading on and off some of your posts on communism and overall anti-imperialism. i'm new to all this and severely uneducated, so some of those things I don't fully understand. my question is if you have any recommendations on books/articles/essays to read to get started and learn about communism and its many branches or even podcasts or documentaries to watch. i've seen people say the communist manifesto may categorize more as mid-advance reading, but i'd like to get your thoughts on this. honestly, i just wanna educate myself and unlearn the lies I've read throughout my life (see: west media's demonization of china, socialism/communism, and savior complex) so what's a good starting point to build a solid knowledge foundation and then build up from there? i hope this makes sense. please, don't feel like you have to answer this, and thank you so much in advance if you do. and honestly apologies for the long ask.

hey thanks for the message!! im on my way to work rn so ill update this when i have a second on my laptop. the communist manifesto is not really advanced, it was written to be a pamphlet for industrial workers in the 1840s so if anything it is more just not relevant to the current situation than it is difficult to read. its still worth reading because its really short and goes over some central points. really the main things i think people should understand who want to learn about communism and marxism are the

1. marxist conception of history. like to understand why communists want the abolition of private property you have to understand the historical reason for why private property started to exist in the first place. marxist (materialist) history is different from dominant liberal (idealist) historical narratives. and the second thing, which is not really separate for the first

2. dialectical materialism.

for these two i would recommend the german ideology by marx and engels, which is about idealist vs materialist history. and honestly for dialectical materialism i recommend stalins thing on it because its very concise and makes a complex philosophical concept very digestible.

the other things i think are important

3. base and superstructure. you can just look this up and find a lot of explanations

4. class struggle and the state. lenin’s state and revolution is my main recommendation for this.

5. political economy. i think a lot of the stuff i mentioned above will cover it but idk when im home ill see if theres anything specific to add.

all of these are theoretical concepts that can be applied to any situation or social analysis so i think they are the most important for a foundation of knowledge that provides a means of analysis, instead of just memorizing key things communists are suppossd to support.

there also is the speech intercommunalism by huey newton which you can find online for free and covers a lot of the above, and anti imperialism. as for imperialism specifically, you should read against empire by michael parenti.

i have a lot of resources on anti imperialism under the tag #imperialism and a lot of stuff in general under #marxism and #politics

i also recommend just looking around marxists.org and monthly review online, especially monthly review bc they have a lot of really useful articles, especially on marxism, imperialism, perspectives from the third world.

oh theres also this book/interview with fidel castro by a us congressman and i think its called history will absolve me but i cant remember. ill update this

[justcourttee]

Love, Right?

This was an ask from AO3, but I loved it so much and wanted to post it here too.

vasiliassuns asked: aaaaa!! i love all these one shots so much:)! would it be any trouble to ask for the waynes (minus alfred, he knows all) being in paris to research ladybug and accidentally see marinette transform before watching her whoop ass? (i know theres a lot of fics with this in the damianette tag, but aa!! such a good trope,,,and your writing is awesome.) its totally cool if not! i also wanna add that im super excited for the next chapter:) seriously tho your writing is awesome and i adore it

If you had told Damian Al Ghul Wayne that he would discover the love of his life in a shotty alleyway in Paris, France, he would’ve laughed in your face.

Yet there he was, his heart racing a million times a minute as he watched her swing into action sending the akumatized person sailing with a solid kick to their chest.

‘Flawless Execution, I couldn’t have done it better myself.’

Damian ignored the crowds pushing against him trying to take cover in the nearest shelter. He knew that by now his family would’ve seen his transmission from the camera contacts that Barbara had provided them before leaving Gotham. They would also be racing toward the battle hoping to catch a glimpse of how these victims communicated with the notorious Hawkmoth.

He turned the corner colliding into three other rushing bodies.

They all fell to the ground with a groan, each holding their own heads with equal scowls directed at the others. Damian was the first to find his feet as he crossed her arms, glaring down on his mess of brothers. Three voices filled the alleyway simultaneously, all as panicked at the other.

“Damian was that the coffee goddess-”

“Damian was that the flying angel from the acrobat gym-”

“Damian was that your girlfriend-”

Everyone silenced as their gazes shifted to where Jason stood. He only shrugged his shoulders in response, that familiar smirk pulling at his lips.

“She’s not my girlfriend Todd.” Damian tried to say it with the straightest face he could manage but he could do nothing to hide the red that had crept up his cheeks.

“Well, whatever she is doesn’t matter. What does matter is that the flying angel is Ladybug! That information would’ve been helpful earlier. We were already hanging out in civilian form, I mean, we could’ve been having our top-secret meetings without the masks!”

“Dick, some of us care about our secret identities unlike you.”

Dick pouted as Tim elbowed his side.

“All I’m saying is that if she can trust me to catch her 40 feet above the ground, then she should be able to trust me with her secret identity.”

“It’s not like she knows our identity’s Richard.” Damian narrowed his eyes at the older boy essentially silencing his continuous whining. “Besides, she probably didn’t want to harm us. If we showed care for her superheroine side, then Hawkmoth could try to attack us to get to her.”

Jason flailed his hand around mocking Damian’s speech behind his head earning a giggle from the others. Damian’s whole face flushed red as he tried to count backward from 10 to avoid killing Jason.

A blur of red landed in front of him, her slightly flushed face staring above them, as determined as ever.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Her eyes darted down to meet his, a slightly surprised look crossing her face.

“Gentlemen, please return to the shelter. It’s not safe right now.”

The boys stared at each other, calculating their best chances of regrouping if they split now. She swung off before she heard their answer shielding them from the oncoming blow. Damian wanted to rush to her side and help her back to her feet but it wasn’t the right moment.

As they made their way back toward the shelter, Damian’s mind was racing a million times a minute.

The quiet girl with a load of sass who helped him study French couldn’t be the bold superheroine who fought crime on a daily basis right? It seemed illogical.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he could see it. The way she stood up in class to Chloe and Lila whenever they attacked him, the way she could maneuver around every situation within mere seconds of seeing how it would play out, the way those same blue eyes would shine with determination when she knew she was the smartest one in the room and was only being challenged to prove it.

“I’m so stupid.”

“Wait, can you say that again? I wanna make it my ringtone.”

Damian stuck his foot out as he skidded to a stop taking joy in seeing Todd tumble to the ground, a satisfying rip coming from his new leather jacket.

“Ah, c’mon man, it was just a joke!”

A small scream of terror caught their attention. A girl stood in the middle of the cobblestone, clinging to a stuffed bear, the Akuma looming over her as if ready to strike. Damian knew he couldn’t make it quick enough, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.

The Akuma's hand came down before he had even moved an inch, a sickening smack turning Damian’s stomach. As the dust cleared, Damian raced forward, intent on beheading any man who dared to lay hands on a child so small, but the Akuma was nowhere in sight.

The only thing that was left was a breathless Ladybug, dropped to her knees in front of the small girl, a white butterfly fluttering into the sky.

“Mar-Ladybug!”

Her head perked up at the sound of Damian’s voice as he fell beside her, checking her over for any injuries.

“I’m fine Damian, please, check on the girl.”

As if Damian needed any more confirmation that Ladybug was Marinette. Here she was not even denying that she knew him in that cute stammering manner she did. With a small nod, he turned to check over the girl, making sure the Akuma hadn’t bruised her.

Beside him, Ladybug stumbled to her feet throwing her Miraculous Cure into the air. Instantly, Damian noticed all the damage disappearing under the blinding lights as if the battle had never happened in the first place. He wanted to ask her how the magic behind it worked, but the sound of a shout cut him off.

“Oi! Get back here you little brat! I’m not done teaching you a lesson for eating my food!”

Instantly the girl in his arms became smaller. Ladybug noticed it as well as her eyes hardened, almost daring the man to take a step forward.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there. You were just a victim of Hawkmoth’s powers and need to be checked over by Chat Noir.”

The blonde hero nodded warily as if ready to attack from behind if things went south.

“I ain’t doing any of that. This child right here is mine and needs to be taught a lesson one way or another.”

Ladybug glanced behind her at the small girl’s silent tears as she clung to Damian’s arms as if they were her lifeline.

“You will be doing no such thing. In fact, by the end of today, she will no longer be your child. I suggest you leave now sir, I wouldn’t want things to get ugly.”

The man had the audacity to laugh. It fueled the rage inside Damian, but he refused to let go of the girl. He feared that if he did, she would run.

“What are you gonna do? You superheroes can’t touch me if I’m not akumatized.”

In a flash, he lunged forward. Ladybug wasn’t even fazed as she sidestepped him, pushing his head down into the cobblestone below. It was only one blow, but he was out cold, a small split on his forehead.

Damian couldn’t help the way his jaw hung.

“Medic, he’s going to need stitches. Sir,” Damian shook the shock from his face as he met her eyes. “This child seems to have taken a liking to you, would you mind taking her to the police station for me? Tell them I will be there soon to make my report and check on her.”

Damian nodded, unable to find his voice as those intimidating eyes stared down into his.

“And one more thing, I’ll be checking in with you later as well. It seems we have much to talk about little bird.”

Damian’s entire face flushed red as she swung off with her partner, his eyes never leaving her figure until she was out of sight. The sound of pounding feet on the pavement brought him back to reality as his brother’s skidded in front of him, their faces as impressed as his.

“Hey Damian, this is your fair warning. If you don’t date her, I might.”

“Ditto.”

“Me three.”

Damian stumbled over his denial as he watched his brother’s burst into laughter. Dick gathered the young girl from his arms, cooing at her until she was calm once more, allowing him to finally stand.

“You all are not worthy of her, only I am.”

Jason crossed his arms mocking Damian’s half pout as he and Tim shared another laugh at the murderous look in his eyes. He could care less what these imbeciles thought, the only thing that mattered was what she did.

And he couldn’t wait to find out.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey 

#daminette #maribat

[bibbawrites]

She - Carrie Wilson x Female Reader (SMUT 18+)

Request: girl x girl with Carrie having a bad day cause of Julie and needs to let off the anger with giving the reader an/some orgasm(s)?

Word Count: 1770 words

Summary: after being upstaged by julie at the school spirit rally carrie needs a way to work her anger out, and you are more than happy to be of assistance 

Warnings: sex (obviously), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, use of sex toys, swearing, overstimulation, slight dom

A/N: i finally got the motivation to write this and i dont completely hate it which is good haha sorry for any mistakes in editing, i got a bit lazy and just skim read it while cuddling a kitten lol so if theres any mistakes thats why  also no hate to julie or flynn but obviously carrie’s girlfriend wouldn’t like them and neither does carrie so yeah thats why they get shit on   anyways, hope you enjoy!!!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​​ @littlemissaddict​​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​​ @headheartbellarke​​​ @lovesanimals​​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​​ @fandomxreaders​​​​ @ifilwtmfc

“I swear Molina does this shit on purpose, just to piss me off.” Carrie ranted as the two of you walked down the hallway after the spirit rally.

“Do you know how hard I worked on that routine? And she just has to go and upstage me with some stupid fucking hologram act? Which came out of nowhere, might I add.” She continued, and you nodded, not wanting to sat the wrong thing and make it worse. 

You stood back and watched as your girlfriend confronted Julie, rolling your eyes at Nick who decided to step in. He never truly knew how to deal with Carrie. He followed as Carrie walked away and you hurried to catch up, grabbing onto your girfriend’s hand as she repeated her rant from earlier. 

The bell rang as Carrie turned to walk away, pulling you along with her. 

“Where are we going? Science is the other way.” You questioned. Carrie shook her head. 

“We’re not going to science.” She replied, pulling you into a janitors closet and shutting the door behind you. 

“Oh.” You said, understanding the situation. 

Carrie pulled you towards her, your lips crashing against hers. She tasted like she always did, like her favourite peach lipgloss and mint. Kissing Carrie was like the perfect duet, her lips were made to intertwine with yours. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Carrie shoving you against the wall, her lips moving from yours to trail down your neck, sucking marks into your skin as she went. 

“Carrie.” You mumbled. “Are we really gonna do this here?” 

She took a step back, eyeing you carefully, before pulling out her phone and pressing it to her ear. 

“Dad? I need you to call the school and excuse me and Y/N for the rest of the day.” She spoke and your eyes widened. You could hear the muffled sound of Carrie’s dad talking on the other end. She bit her lip. 

“It’s a girl problem.” She said after a moment. Her dad replied and a smile appeared on your girlfriend’s face. 

“Yes that kind of girl problem. Poor Y/N is feeling horrible, the cramps are just so bad on the first day of her cycle.” Carrie put on a sympathetic voice and after a moment she gave you a thumbs up and said goodbye to her father before hanging up. 

“How good are you at acting?” She questioned. You shrugged. 

“Decent enough, why?” You replied.

“My dad is coming to pick us up and drop us home at my house. You’re having a really bad period and you need to get some rest.” 

You nodded in understanding, and together you made your way outside, waiting for Trevor to arrive, and once he did you made sure to clutch at your stomach and lean on your girlfriend as she helped you into the car. 

“Do you need anything Y/N?” Trevor asked, as he drove the two of you home. “I can get whatever pads or tampons you need, and I can heat up a heat pack or get medication for your cramps.” 

Your heart swelled at the caring gesture. 

“I should be okay with just a lie down.” You replied. “But I’ll let you know if I need anything. Thank you.” 

“Of course. Anything to make you more comfortable.” Trevor responded as he pulled the car into the driveway. 

“I’ll go get you girls some pizza. I know Carrie loves comfort foods on her period.” He offered. You and Carrie exchanged a look, but agreed, and before you knew it you were flopping down onto your girlfriend’s king sized bed. 

“I feel kinda guilty.” You admitted. Carrie sighed. 

“Me too. Why does he have to be such a good dad?” She groaned. 

“Too late now to backtrack.” You said. Carrie nodded, rolling closer to you and pulling you into her arms. 

“Guess we should just make the most of our time together then.”

- 

An hour and several slices of pizza later and Carrie and you had her whole house to yourselves, with her dad leaving for some meeting that would take several hours. 

Carrie had been staring at the wall for the past 15 minutes and you were starting to get worried about your girlfriend. You moved slightly, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at you. 

“Are you okay?” You questioned. 

“Just thinking about Julie again.” She explained, an annoyed look appearing on her face. 

“You need to forget about her babe. She’s not worth your time.” You stated, but Carrie ignored you, staring back at the wall again. 

“I just can’t believe she upstaged me after all the hard work we put into our performance.” She ranted. You took her hand. 

“If it makes you feel better, I thought that Dirty Candy was better by far.” You said, squeezing her hand. 

“You have to say that, you’re my girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes, but the light blush on her cheeks told you that she appreciated the compliment. You fell into silence for a moment, before an idea popped into your head. 

“Carrie.” You said. 

“What?” She replied, without even looking at you. 

“Remember that time that Flynn called me your bitch and I got so pissed off at her and you worked my anger out with some of the hottest sex we’ve ever had?” You asked. That got her attention, and she turned to look at you. 

“Yeah?” Her eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds. 

“Use me.” You stated. She bit her lip. 

“You sure?” She checked. You nodded. 

“Positive. I’m all yours to do whatever you want to me.” You assured her. 

“In that case...” Carrie sat up, her look suddenly very serious. “Take off your clothes. Now.” 

You obeyed, pulling your Dirty Candy t-shirt and your denim shorts quickly, and after a quick glance at Carrie, stripped your underwear and bra off too. 

“Lie down.” Carrie instructed, and you did as she said. You watched as she moved down her bed and spread your legs, her eyes never once leaving yours. 

She lent down and licked a strip up your pussy and you moaned loudly, not holding back since you knew that Trevor was gone. 

Carrie smirked, before moving to eat you out, her tongue swirling against your clit as she inserted a finger into you. 

“Carrie.” You moaned out, and she grazed her teeth along your clit as a response. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered, tangling your fingers through her hair. 

She added a second finger and your head fell back in pleasure. She really wasn’t holding back. You could feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm pooling in your stomach. 

“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.” You breathed out, and she ignored you, curling her fingers inside you to hit your g-spot. You gasped loudly. 

“Carrie, please.” You moaned. 

“Cum for me baby.” She said, her mouth never leaving your clit, and the vibrations sent you tumbling over the edge, cumming with a loud moan of her name. 

She worked you through your orgasm before moving away, and you shut your eyes to take a moment. The bed dipped as Carrie climbed back onto it, and before you could react she was pressing a vibrator to your already sensitive clit. 

“Carrie, what?” You asked, eyes opening quickly. 

“You didn’t think I’d stop at one, did you?” She teased, pressing the vibrator against you again, causing your already sensitive body to twitch. You bit your lip, unable to respond. She grinned at you. 

“How many orgasms have you had in one go before?” She questioned. 

“Three.” You answered. She paused, thinking. 

“You can do more than that.” She decided, and your eyes widened. You opened your mouth to reply but she pressed the vibrator to your clit again, this time turning the level on the vibrator up. You squirmed, not even having time to warn her before your second orgasm hit. 

Smirking, Carrie left the vibrator on your clit, holding your hips down with her spare hand to stop you from trying to move away. The intense vibration so soon after your second orgasm had you cumming again in what felt like no time. 

“Please no more. I can’t take it.” You begged. Carrie shook her head. 

“Yes you can baby, I know you can.” She assured you. 

“I can’t Carrie, please.” You whined. She paused. 

“One more.” She decided. You whimpered as her fingers entered you once again, stretching you slightly, before she slid them out and slid the vibrator into you. 

You cried out, hot tears spilling down your cheeks as Carrie put her mouth back onto your clit, every little movement sending shudders through your overly sensitive body. 

“Come on baby, one more, you can do it.” Carrie coaxed, her tongue swirling against your clit. She angled the vibrator to hit your g-spot and that was enough to bring you to your fourth orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Carrie praised, removing the vibrator from you. Your body was shaking and your face was wet with tears. You knew you looked like a wreck. 

“I think we should have a bath.” Carrie decided, helping you into the bathroom. 

She helped you to sit on the closed toilet, before starting the bath, adding in your favourite Lush bubble bar that she always kept for when you were over, and some soothing bath soak. Once she was done she turned back to you. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You just nodded, too exhausted to speak. 

Carrie was back in no time, carrying two pairs of soft pyjamas, and some apple juice with ice. She placed them down on the cabinet before turning the water off on the bath and adding in a bath bomb. She lit the candles surrounding the bath before turning her attention to you. 

“Ready to get in?” She questioned. 

“Yeah, I might need some help though.” You replied, your voice shaky. Carrie grinned, walking over to you and wrapping her arm around your waist to help you over to the bath. She helped you climb in before stripping off her clothes and climbing in with you, sitting herself behind you so that you could lean back against her. 

“Feel better now?” You asked in a soft voice. Carrie pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“I do. Thank you, I love you.” She murmured. 

“I love you too. And anytime, I’ll always be here.” You responded, shutting your eyes as you snuggled against your girlfriend. 

And you meant it. 

#carrie wilson #carrie wilson x reader #carrie wilson x female reader #carrie wilson smut #reader insert #lesbian carrie rights #carrie is a good girlfriend #trevor is a good dad