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#if someone can point me in the right direction to someone that Does explain these things - PLEASE send them too me i'm desperate
cosmicgesture · 2 months
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Okay so I've figured out what the problem is with all the animation and animatic tutorials I've found.
None of them address workflow.
Not a single one tells me how I should be handling my files, saving them, applying them to my music, etc. They don't ever address the finishing work of clean-up or finalizing or saving it to a completed thing that can be posted. I haven't seen advice on file management nor how those files are later compiled. There's also nothing in animation tutorials about how to figure out how to pace your animation to music beats if that's something you want to do.
I don't want advice on 'how to make my animatic better' or how to conceptualize. I want the bare bones explanation of how to make this as not painstaking as possible, the best way to save storage space on my computer, and how to actually do this from a technical standpoint, not an artistic one.
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arcane-trickster · 2 years
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Typically I don’t do angry tumblr rants but this gbbo smore shit has a cold rage burning in the fireplace of my soul and the words ‘sacrilege’ and ‘heresy’ bubbling up from the depths of my being to be played on loop in mute horror like a scratched record.
So.
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This monstrosity is what gbbo was trying to pass off as a smore.
This is not a smore. Look at it. It’s downright undercooked. That’s not even marshmallow. Or chocolate. It looks cold. This is about as much a smore as Cris Pratt is a voice actor. As a corgi is a wolf. As gbbo is apparently competent at research.
Also me to explain what a smore is.
For anyone who doesn’t know what the fudge a smore is, it’s a typical summertime treat often made at summercamp, when camping, or if you live in a place with a fireplace/assess to a campfire sometimes you’ll use that.
Basically it goes like this; it takes five ingredients, gram crackers, any chocolate bar with rectangular pieces you can break off (traditionally Hershey’s as it’s the cheapest and smores tend to be made in bulk, it’s one of those things a group of people make together otherwise it won’t taste right) large marshmallows, an open flame, and as previously mentioned more than one person to make them at the same time. If you make smores alone, the smores too will be sad and alone.
First you take two gram crackers and break off 1 to 2 sections of chocolate. Place the chocolate on each side, so both sides are all chocolatey. Then you take a marshmallow and skewer it on either a pointy stick from the ground or a metal skewer specificity made for roasting marshmallows/hotdogs depending on if someone has any.
Next you, well, roast the marshmallows. If you’re doing this at a campfire this involves a lot of moving away from the direction the smoke is blowing well and minor amounts of giggle-filled pvp as everyone jostles for the best spots around the fire. Mellow roasting is one of those things that is kind of the point of making marshmallows, the epic highs and lows of seeing how close to the fire you can get yours and how long you can hold it there before it either falls off or catches fire is integral to the entire experience.
Once you hastily blow out the one-fire part of the marshmallow, you slide it off the stick and between the gram crackers and chocolate. Then you squish it a bit to get the chocolate all nice and gooey, and bite in.
It’s gooey, it’s very messy, and the closer it gets to midnight the more it’s delicious.
So now we have established what a smore is, allow me to explain how UTTERLY BUTCHERED that abomination of sugar is.
First, we have the ingredients themselves. Paul Bitchwood describes the middle as ‘Italian meringue’.
Italian meringue.
Italian. Fucking. Meringue.
*deep breath*
IS NOT A MARSHMALLOW.
It does not share THE BASIC PROPERTIES OF A MARSHMALLOW.
YOU CANNOT STAB MERINGUE WITH A STCK AND HAVE IT STAY ON THE FUCKING SICK. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A MARSHMALLOW BEFORE MR BITCHWOOD???? WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO THROW THE TOP OF A LEMON MERINGUE PIE AT YOU TO DEMONSTRATE “PAUL”?! IF IT DOESN’T BOUNCE ITS NOT A FUCKING MELLOW AND THE EFECT ON YOUR FACE WOULD BE ONE HELL OF AN IMPROVEMENT!
So already we have the single most important ingredient straight up ‘substituted’ (if you can even call it that) for an entirely different food with a completely different texture, taste, consistency, and behavior under heat.
But there’s more!
See, that chocolate? It’s not melted chocolate like you might think at first glance- no no no, that’s fucking GANACHE.
YOU KnOW, The THing With THE CoNsistenCY of FroSTING???? :) :) :)
The thing that you expressly don’t want to melt when using it in cooking on pain of death?
Thus removing THE ENTIRE PURPOSE CONSISTENCY FLAVER AND TEXTURE OF THE INGREDIENT
AGAIN!
and then. Ohhhhhhh and then.
Those are no gram crackers.
Those are ‘digestibles”
WHAT THE FUCK ARE DIGESTABLES
THATS WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL FOOD ITS NOT SPECIAL DUMBASS
WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF RICH PEOPLE SHIT ARE YOU EATING THAT YOU NEED TO POINT THAT OUT IN THE NAME
WHAT THE FUCK
AND IT AGAIN HAS A DIFFERENT EVERYTHING THEN GRAaM CRACKERS
WHY
YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT IF YOU WANTED IT TO SOUND FANCY YOU COULD HAVE JUST MADE GRAM CRACKERS FROM SCRATCH IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE DO IT BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUT ITS AT LEAST POSSIBLE AGHHHHHHHHHHH
And then. To add insult to injury after FUCKING injury.
It’s a circle.
It’s A CiRcLE.
WHY IS IT A CIRCLE.
IT SHOULNT BE A CIRCLE-
In conclusion; Paul Bitchywood is a fucker and a Tory and I don’t put stock in god but by whatever powers may be I hope hell exists because this fool is running a marathon to it’s center.
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How about a girlfriend that does charity and she does it with the driver maybe Lando? when they’re home together (like idk buying and donating things for orphanage or women’s shelter) if you’re comfortable with he idea
"I don't mind auctioning my stuff away, but how about some of your things too?", Lando suggested as you sorted through his wardrobe and helmet and racesuits collections.
"I've been donating clothes that are still in good shape - your clothes have more value because they've been worn by you, so it brings in more money", you reasoned, "no one would buy anything from me", you shrugged your shoulders.
"We could try, though! Chat is always crazy about you and I think they would be down for that. Say this dress here - didn't you tell me that it pinched you and it hurt your boobs?", he pointed to a black dress you wore to a team Christmas dinner, "I certainly don't want you in pain and never hurting these", he cupped your boobs, smirking like a horny teenager, "so maybe it would be good to sell and then donate that money?", he suggested.
"I doubt anyone would pay good money for it, but sure, we can try! And we could throw this one in the mix too, and this shirt - if anyone's paying for anything it's because it's a good piece", you mumbled.
"Hi guys! Chat is all excited because you're here, see?", Lando kissed your temple and secured you on his lap, "today's stream is a little different, and you might have seen a little bit of it from the stories I put up earlier this week", Lando explained, "earlier this week Y/N and I made a big order of clothes and some furniture for an orphanage back home. They have an amazing program to ensure kids have a future in what they want to study or work in and we're also visiting them soon, and we thought you guys would want to help too if you wanted!", he smiled.
"This seems like we're decluttering the house - and in a way we are, to be honest, but there's this organisation here in Monaco that helps new parents in need - anything from diapers, formula, wipes, medications, clothes - and since we don't know much about that", you said as Lando chirped in, "not yet", smiling as he kissed your temple again, "since we don't know much about it, we were thinking of auctioning Lando's racesuits and a spare helmet, and all of the money would be going to that organisation", you explained, still blushing from his comment.
Lando put up the website where you had uploaded the photos and details, "someone says "there are some of Y/N's dresses here, are they for auction too?" - Yes, they are! This one wasn't so sure anyone would buy them so please buy them because a) it's for a good cause and b) I would get to tell her "I told you so" and get bragging rights for being right", he smiled smugly.
"Wow, you're really loving it", you spoke to the stream as the pieces or clothing were getting higher and higher bids, "guys, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me, us! We donate to this organisation every year and now we thought we could make a bigger contribution but never this big, thank you so much", you smiled, feeling a bit emotional and how caring and giving everyone was being, even people typing in the chat that they had made a direct money donation with the quantity they were able to give.
"What can I say? I'm always right", Lando charmed, praising himself as you cuddled closer to him, "you were", you whispered.
"Louder, baby, the chat can't hear you say I was right", he chuckled.
"Oh, the lady at the orphanage just sent us pictures of the kids doing their homework on the new desks!", you showed Lando the pictures you were sent, "I wish we could show you guys, but the little faces are showing", you said, pursing your lips and scrolling through until you found one of just the room, "this one doesn't! Look at how great their room looks now!", you gushed as you showed the camera.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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brightbertalt · 3 months
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just please teach me
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michael gavey x bimbo!reader
authors note - i can’t resist this man…..he’s so nerdy and hot. also meant for female!reader
warnings - dumbification, kinda mean michael, a little praise, degradation, perv!michael, the word slut, breeding kink, accidental breeding?
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god michael couldn’t wait for this.
it was your first tutoring session with him. after your failed your first math test of the semester, you decided to get some help from the smartest man you knew, who also happened to sit next to you.
“hey, you’re like super smart right?”
you asked him, peeking over at the 100% on his test. he turned his head, internally surprised you were even talking to him.
“uh, yeah. yeah i am. do you need help?”
you nodded, pouting and practically shoving your test in his face.
“i can’t even believe it! i got a 53% on this test, it was like, super hard!”
you complained, crossing your arms; which just so happened to push up your breasts. they looked so good in that tight tank top you were wearing.
“you’re asking me to tutor you?”
you scoffed out of frustration.
“duh! i don’t wanna fail!”
he was going to be your tutor. it sounded like music to his ears. michael gavey was going to be personally teaching the cutest girl he knew.
and annoying.
you yourself weren’t annoying, but the fact that someone like you, who probably didn’t even know which direction an x axis pointed, could get into oxford university. probably on a huge helping of daddy’s money is what he thought. unlike him, who actually earned his place. nonetheless, he would tutor you.
he could have some fun with that.
he saw this situation in porn all the time. dumb schoolgirl goes to someone like himself to get help, and they end up fucking like rabbits. he didn’t have any experience with women in person, but he figured porn was close enough to the real thing, right?
he wondered how sweet your voice would sound begging for him.
“sooooo, does my place sound good? i have such a cute setup it’s like, unbelievable! and im free around 6 tonight.”
“yeah, of course. i guess ill be over then..!”
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he knocked on your door, trying to stop his hands from shaking. he adjusted his glasses, waiting for you to open the door.
“mikey! you’re here!”
you opened the door and hugged him. he tried not to audibly moan from the sensation of your boobs pushing against him.
“just michael is fine!”
he blurted out, nervous that you were this close to him. would he even be able to survive this night?
“i dont have any extra chairs, so we can just study on my bed! how’s that?”
you asked, walking in your dorm and sitting on your bed.
he wouldn’t be able to survive. you said that so innocently, as if you didn’t understand what two people could do on a bed. as he walked over to your bed, he didn’t expect anything different. it was adorned with pink pillows and a huge fuzzy pink blanket. it was so you.
“the thing I wasn’t really understanding was number seven. i don’t even know where to start!”
he nodded, grabbing his supplies out of his bag. how could she not understand this one? it was the easiest by far. nonetheless, he explained it in the most basic way he could. you nodded, pretending to understand.
“okay, now you try.”
you smiled dumbly, attempting to try it on your own. you stopped shortly thereafter, flipping the pencil in your hand.
“i just don’t get it michael! maybe math just isn’t for me..”
you leaned in closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. you felt defeated. defeated by some numbers on a page. he sighed in annoyance. he did like this feeling, but he didn’t like your dumb little brain. maybe he could take advantage of that. he only dreamed of that, though. tricking you into pleasing him. giving you a ‘reward’ for finally get 100% on your tests. you’d probably love that too.
“ill probably drop math. its too hard! i dont know how you do it. you’re so smart michael.”
“well you’re not even trying are you? you just have to think, y/n!”
“i am so trying!”
you loosely hugged michael. he could feel himself starting to get hard. why’d you have to be so handsy with him?
“thanks for helping me though! you’re so smart michael.”
he felt himself twitch in his pants. he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
you felt his lips press against your own soft, glossed lips. he pulled away quickly, already preparing for the worst. you would push him off your bed, throw his bag at him and yell at him to leave. instead, you grabbed his sleeve.
“please don’t leave mikey.”
how could he refuse you?
he moved closer to you, going in for another kiss. you were an aphrodisiac. so irresistible. made for him to fuck.
you shook your head, kissing all over his face.
“it’s totally fine, please just stay here.”
he gently pushed you down onto the bed, kissing and sucking on your neck. fuck, you were so nice. your skin was so soft and plush, and your voice sent him into a spiral.
“is this your first time mikey?”
“y-yeah. i know you probably think that’s pathetic or weird or-“
“mikey. please just fuck me. i don’t care.”
those were the sweetest words he ever heard. he could cum right then and there.
“god, fuck, can i ask you something?”
he asked.
“are you on birth control?”
you shook your head. fuck, for some reason that was even hotter.
“ill pull out, don’t worry.”
you nodded, noticeably absentminded. you were so dumb, and it was so cute to him. he was known around campus for his smarts and talent in math. and now he had, which was quite possibly, the dumbest girl at his university under his thumb. it felt so good.
“i trust you mikey.”
he smirked as he pressed continuous kisses into your neck and chest, experimentally pushing his hands underneath your cute tank top and groping your breasts. you whined underneath him, taking your top and yanking it over your head to expose your chest.
“you’re so cute. just let me take care of you, okay?”
he licked and sucked on your chest, trailing his way down your body until he got to your little cute shorts. god this boy was a freak. you helped him get your shorts off of you, exposing your bare cunt to him. you squeezed your legs together, a feeble attempt in covering yourself.
“why be shy now? you already teased me for half the semester.”
you nodded at his remark, leaning your head back. he teased, kissing up your thighs. michael’s smirk was criminal as he placed a gentle kiss on your pussy. you bucked your hips and moaned on him. he gently prodded your entrance with his long fingers, slowly inserting two of them inside you. he chuckled as he moved his fingers in and out.
“mikey i-“
“you’re what? wet as a bloody fountain? because you are.”
you let out a pornstar-esque moan and feebly grabbed in his direction. you needed him inside you.
“mikey please just fuck me! please!”
you shouted out, rocking your hips into his fingers gently. he grinned and stood up to take off his pants, as well as unzipping his coat.
“i don’t get it.”
you said bluntly, looking up at him.
“what?”
“your shirt. I don’t get it.”
you pointed to his shirt.
‘not all math puns are awful. just sum.’
you shared a moment of brief awkwardness.
“it’s like how the result of an addition-“
“i didn’t ask for more math! just come over here michael!”
he quickly nodded and took off his stupid shirt, leaving it on the floor next to the bed. he climbed over you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“are you sure?”
“please just do it already mikey!”
you whined. he always knew you were bratty. he would love to put you in your place though. he slid himself into you, gasping at the warmth and tightness of your pussy. he slowly slid all the way in, swearing under his breath as he did. you were definitely made for him. so warm, so soft, so perfect. he placed a hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you.
“you’re so warm holy fuck, I can’t believe im inside you right now.”
he blurted out, slowly starting to move. michael was definitely a little above average. so goes the trope of nerdy white guys. the largeness of him made you feel so full, so stuffed. you couldn’t handle it already. tears pricked at your eyes as you slung your legs onto his shoulders. michael wasted no time fucking himself into you, letting out all sorts of lewd noises.
“can’t believe im the one doing this. always thought you’d be with someone like felix, fuck.”
he grabbed at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. another loud, indecent moan was let out of you.
“im the one fucking you, no one else gets to have this dumb little cunt.”
he tilted his head up, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“im all yours mikey, please just keep fucking me!”
you cried, grabbing onto his hands on your hips. he grabbed your right hand with his left, pressing it right next to your head. his face was right next to yours as well now.
“nothing in that stupid head, huh? nothin’ but me fucking you right now. i always knew you were so simple.”
you clenched around him, leaving him to chuckle under his breath.
“you like that? me calling you dumb? knew you were a slut.”
michael’s smartass attitude definitely never left him. you shook your head unconvincingly. you did like it, but being a brat was so fun.
“i know you like it. you already feel like you’re gonna cum on me. poor little thing. probably forget everything you learned this semester just from this.”
he said with fake sympathy. it was true, you were close. you could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and needy, so you knew he was too. you just remembered you were supposed to have a math lesson today. oh well. you could always just google the answers.
“I don’t think im gonna be able to pull out, you’re so fucking warm and tight I can’t-“
you immediately came to your senses. you were admittedly dumb, but not dumb enough to let michael cum in you.
“michael please pull out-“
“i- fuck!”
he abruptly came inside you, his jaw slack as he aggressively rammed his hips into yours a few more times. the sensation of his filling you up was too much, and your orgasm shortly followed. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.
“im so sorry y/n, you just-“
“ill figure it out mikey, just hold me.”
and he did. he laid on his side as he traced his thumb on your belly. you fell asleep soon thereafter, together.
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bit-odd-innit · 1 year
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“Sometimes,” Gareth drawls. He’s sitting behind his kit, twirling a drumstick in his fingers, thoughtful. “Sometimes I think this town really is cursed.” “Dude.” Jeff warns. “Let me finish. I think this town is cursed, and Eddie’s a part of it—” “Dude!” “Let me finish! Town’s cursed, Eddie’s involved, but he’s not the source. He’s a victim.”
Jeff and Francis exchange a look. ”And the true source.” He rises, getting on a roll. “The true source is hiding in plain sight, something—”
He cuts his eyes at them. “—or someone no one would expect. The true source...” He whirls his drumstick with a dramatic flourish then snaps his arm to its full extension and points outward, into the wild blue yonder that is the world beyond his parents’ garage. “...is Him.”
Him, being: Steve Harrington, parked at the end of the driveway. Steve Harrington, opening the passenger side door of his rich boy Beemer. Steve Harrington, who drove Eddie to band practice. Who’s shouldering Eddie’s gig bag. Who’s helping Eddie out of the car. 
Jeff and Francis watch for a moment in silence, then turn back to Gareth in sync.
”An interesting theory.” ”Elaborate.”
“Consider the facts, boys!” He holds his drumstick to his mouth to pantomime smoking a pipe. It doesn’t really work but he’s committed to it now. “Prior to The Unfortunate Occurences Which Shan’t Be Named...”
Francis crosses himself backwards. Jeff looks down, shielding his eyes and murmuring, “That Which Shan’t Be Named.” It’s the only way they can cope with what happened last spring. It’s that or face the reality that their friend almost died horribly; that he was hunted for sport by a town that still looks at him sideways, still has not acknowledged any wrongdoing; that there’s a gap in Eddie’s retelling of What Really Happened he can’t or won’t explain, and in that gap Eddie was almost destroyed, was so brutalized he was hospitalized for a month and semi-comatose for half of it. That Eddie is different now. Wounded. Skittish. Not small, never small. But smaller.
That’s too much, man. So they make it a Bit.
“...Our darling Edward would have never associated with the likes of that.”
(That is currently smoothing down the collar of Eddie’s new battle jacket, nose wrinkling as the stubborn curl of the denim refuses to lay flat.)
”A jock? Hah! A jock and a yuppie? Hah and hah a-gain! But now, in the hereafter of...” He falters. “Certain Events...he has emerged unscathed—” “He is not unscathed,” Jeff corrects. “He is extremely scathed,” Francis adds. “Mentally, physically and emotionally scathed.”
“He’s scathed to shit dude.” “He has emerged unscathed,” Gareth barrels on, shooting them a look that says this is supposed to be a monologue.  “But for one critical difference. Not only does he tolerate this...interloper’s existence, but he actively seeks out his company! I daresay he enjoys it! Thrives on it! Our jester is holding court in the empty kingdom of a fallen king!”
Francis laughs but Jeff frowns. “That’s a little mean.”
“Ah, but is it untrue?”
“Still.”
“Fine, sorry, jeez.”
(The fallen king is now holding the jester’s collar down with one hand and furiously rubbing at it with his fist, scowling like the fabric personally offended him. “You should have let me iron this,” he huffs, and the way Eddie watches Steve is so cartoonishly fond Gareth half expects a menagerie of woodland creatures to scamper out of the brush and sing a song about it.)
Satisfied, Jeff gets back on board. He hums, his mouth a grim line, voice dropping to the bottom of his register. “And you suspect the Dark Arts?”
“What other explanation could there be?” Gareth lifts his steepled fingers  to his mouth, forgetting he is still holding the drumstick, and tips it forward so it doesn’t go right up his nose. He glowers in the pair’s general direction. “What do we truly know about this Hair-ington? What secrets does that follicle fortress hold? What Black Magic does this strapping sorcerer wield that has so bewitched our beloved bro?” Francis snorts. “The black magic is that Steve’s hot, and Eddie wants to kiss him.”
Gareth and Jeff stare at him, slack-jawed. Francis shrugs.
“Look I’m not into the guy but let’s call a spade a spade.” 
Gareth shifts his weight to one leg, his theatrics flushing out of him. “I’m running out of steam on this, can we just talk about Eddie’s stupid crush on Steve Harrington?”
“Oh my god PLEASE.” “I have been WAITING for someone to bring it up” “I’ve never seen him like this. He is gone. He is smitten.”
“I’d go so far as to say he is straight up besotted my dude!” “Cupid’s arrow flew true and it got him right between the fucking eyes.”
It’s not the first time Eddie’s had a crush, or the most embarrassing. It’s not even that the guys are worried about what would happen if they roasted Eddie to his face—Eddie can dish it out as well as he can take it, mostly. But whatever Eddie has with Steve feels…untouchable. The first time Steve dropped him off Gareth tested the waters with something light, something along the lines of, “you think he’s gonna give you his letterman jacket?” Instead of laughing it off, Eddie dimmed, and he answered, quietly, “Steve’s just a friend.” The subject hasn’t been broached since.
But perhaps Eddie just can’t see the forest for the trees. Because from the band’s perspective…
“Oh my God are you KIDDING me?”
“What?”
“Steve just did The Move!”
“What move?”
“THE Move! You know.” Gareth presses together his palms, one slightly higher so he can curl his fingers over the ones on his opposite hand. He affects a bright, breathy voice and coos: “Hee hee oh wow your hands are soooo small compared to mine. Hee hee hoo my hands are so big and strong just like me, I could do a billion push ups, probably, and ohhhh wow! Now we’re holding hands! How did that happen! Hee hee hoo hoo ha ha ha!”
Francis chuckles knowingly. “Total Hot Guy Move.”
“A classic!”
“Is that what you think Steve Harrington sounds like?” Jeff asks.
As if on cue, Steve shifts his hand so his fingers fill the spaces between Eddie’s, and then those fingers are folding over, and then the two of them are just…holding hands, in the middle of the street. Staring at each other. Smiling.
Henderson seems just as fed up with this song and dance as the rest of them because he launches from his post in Steve’s back seat, halves himself over the center console and absolutely lays on the horn.
(That’s the other thing they don’t talk about, how clingy Dustin’s gotten. How he trails Eddie like a little shadow, like he’s been stitched to the sole of Eddie’s shoe. Like if he doesn’t have eyes on Eddie at all times he’s going to disappear.)
It snaps them out of their spell because then Steve is barking for him to, “quit it, this is a residential neighborhood!!!” and Henderson is punching out the tune to “Ride of the Valkyries” and Eddie is laughing, really laughing, his head thrown back and his eyes closed as he loses himself to a debilitating, full body cackle and for one brief, horrible moment Gareth thinks he might start crying.
Because there had been a time—Mayish, Juneish—when they didn’t know if they would get Eddie back. That part of him, the core of him, the writhing nucleus of his Eddie-ness, had been tamped down for good. And then Steve showed up. And then Steve kept showing up. And then slowly, surely, Eddie came back. Eddie’s here. Eddie’s late to band practice.
Gareth’s driveway has an incline so it takes Eddie a minute to reach them (Eddie’s working with a physical therapist to build up his quad strength Eddie’s missing sections of his internal organs Eddie almost died and he didn’t and they will never know how or why and Gareth swallows down another knot of emotion lodged at the base of his throat). When he’s at the top he bobs his chin at them and pumps his eyebrows, sheepish but unapologetic.  He glances over his shoulder, flicks a salute at Henderson and Steve, beams when Steve answers with a fluttery trill of his fingers. He turns, moves to set up.
“Hey, Munson!” 
Steve’s halfway in the car, forearm draped over the open driver’s side door, one foot propped on the seat. For a beat he doesn’t move, the corner of his lower lip pinched beneath the top row of his teeth. Then his tongue falls out of his mouth, he makes a little “Bleh!” noise like a B-movie vampire, and he throws the horns.
He does it wrong. He sticks his thumb out instead of tucking it beneath his middle and ring fingers. He isn’t saying rock on, he’s saying something else, cause Gareth knows a little ASL and in ASL that sign means—
Later Eddie will say his knee gave out, that he’s still figuring out how to maneuver his “busted ass body.” They let him have it, but Gareth and Jeff and Francis know the truth. Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson he loves him, and Eddie swooned.  “You fellas ready to rock?” Eddie asks as he hooks up to his amp. Gareth gets behind his drum kit, counts them in, and the band plays on.   
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sleeplesssmoll · 5 months
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I think Vertin might be a tactile person.
Here are examples taken from the voice lines and context clues.  This isn't an all conclusive list of touchy interactions, just what I could find. Someone stop her before she gets hurt. Update: I'm going to keep adding on as we find more interactions together because this is really fun.
Sotheby (hat and hair): Stop it! You can't just touch an adult's head! (She is 13. Vertin probably sees her as a baby and pat her head).
Bette (hands): Ha ha ... They might be a little rough. To tightly grab the eave does require abundant practice. (assuming Vertin is holding her hand. Don’t ask me how we got here.)
Rabies (clothing and torso): Straws ... be hugged. Rabies ... feels it. (she hugged him 🥹)
A Knight (hat and hair): One step further, and you will be in close contact with Someone's nose... As long as you can hit Someone's head. (how close is Vertin standing to the AK? Or maybe she was looking for an invisible head to pat.)
Mesmer Jr (Hands) :Compared to the incurable anxiety, these wounds are minor. Oh, watch your distance. (smh Vertin not everyone likes being touched.)
Melania (hat and hair): "Well done. Please keep on." ...Aren't you going to say that? (more headpats but Melania needs vocal praise too.)
Lilya
Clothing and torso:  Feel awesome? Now it's my turn to pet you. (...what is Vertin petting? This is clothing and torso but I'm lost.)
Hat and hair: You should be grateful that I am too lazy to move now. Or you should know that the first-class pilot’s got a first-glass head-butt, too. (Vertin taking advantage of the moment to give headpats. I'm telling you, its a THING)
Leilani (Hands): Shaka brah! Ooh! Do you want a handshake or a high-five, my friend? I'm fine with either! (She’s so wholesome)
Cristallo 
hat and hair: Are you patting my head? The doctor says, this is a reward for good children. Have I done something right? 
Hands and sleeves: Would you like to hold my hands? I could be with you anytime. (Cristallo is weak and frail. The nurses say she could be blown away by a gust of wind. Despite this she says she’ll be with Vertin anytime. To me it reads as Vertin being worried Cristallo will disappear too. Cristallo notices so she offers to hold hands and says she will always be here as a way to comfort her.)
Darley Clatter
Hat and Hair:  Oh ... I can't deny you are really good at patting.
Clothing and Torso: Take a look at my beautiful muscles! I don't need to explain how fabulous I am. Hey, watch out! Rub me in the direction my mane grows.
Bonus Intimacy : Adorable? Ahh? You don't even have a taste! (Vertin pets him and calls him adorable. Darley, don’t let the girlies know. They might end your noble bloodline.)
Pavia (Hat and Hair): Wanna know how many holes I've made on others' heads? No? Then stop it. (What possessed her to give Pavia headpats?)
Dikke (hat and hair): Thou art overstepping my boundaries, arcanist. (I’m guessing Vertin is at it again with the headpats. Dikke smiles when she says this so she isn’t offended. If anything, she seems amused. )
Eternity (hands and sleeves): Go on, try holding it, and feel its temperature rising in your hand… Easy, sweetheart… take it easy, heh heh… (more hand holding but Vertin wasn’t prepared this time)
An-an Lee (hands and sleeves): What? You want a palm reading? (Vertin, why are you like this? Are you randomly touching people's hands?)
I feel like I should have picked up on this sooner. Gift-giving, hand holding, and headpats. This is the Timekeeper way.
Regulus (hands and sleeves): What do you want? I don't have any spare scratch. (I'm sure she knows you're broke since she's your boss. Vertin's just being Vertin at this point.
Vertin leads Regulus by the hand into her Suitcase in the prologue
Blonney (hands): Interesting! It's been a while since I last met someone who would start with holding hands.
She also holds Blonney's hand as she calms her down during the green lake event.
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lovingmattysposts · 4 months
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you dont know me 7
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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings: MENTIONS OF SU!CIDE. It doesn't go into tramendous details, just someone explaining it happened does not involved any of the triplets. mentions of a toxic relationship.
A few minutes later I'm standing on his porch, knocking on the door. I stood back, waiting. Waiting for either Dan or Chris to reveal themselves, but that moment never came. I stood back up and knocked again, nothing. I sighed and looked around.
I saw a gate that connected to his backyard. I bit my lip. I started to walk down the steps of his balcony and my feet hit the pavement of the road before I stopped and turned back around looking at the gate.
Would it be creepy I if I just walked into his backyard? Yes Y/n, that would be ridiculously creepy. I debate this in my head back and forth as I stared at the gate. If I go back there and see no one, then I'll just assume he's not home. I tapped my foot on the pavement. I sighed. All of the sudden my feet take me to his gate before I'm sliding it open and walking around the house.
I heard muffle talking and light from the backyard. I turn the corner and I see Chris and Nate sitting by a fire that was dimly lit and they were talking. Chris's eyes meet mine and then Nate turns around and looks at me. I felt my face turn red as they looked at me. Yes, this was incredible creepy, I should not have just walked into his backyard with no warning.
I walked up to where they were sitting.
"Y/n?" Chris asked looking at me. I looked down at my feet. "Sorry, I just-" I said quickly as I stopped right in front of the fire. "I knocked--" I said pointing towards the house making Nate look over towards that direction. "No one answered so I-" I mumbled looking at them.
"Just walked into the backyard?" Nate asked narrowing his eyes at me. I swallowed. Chris stood up and walked over to me. I just watched him. "Is everything okay?" He asked quietly looking at me. Nate just looked at us.
I guess I forgot to mention that I might have been crying the whole way here. My cheeks were red and my eyes were still watery. I looked down at Nate who was looking at me as if I were clinically insane. Chris looked down at him.
Nate looked at Chris before standing up off the chair and groaning. He turned and started walking towards the house. "I'm gonna get a soda" He mumbled quietly before opening the back door and disappearing inside. I swallowed as I looked towards the house.
"Y/n, why are you crying?" He asked in front of me. I looked at him and wiped my eyes and shrugged. "I don't know" I mumbled forcing a smile. He just looked at me with a face of concern. I didn't mean to cry. I don't handle my emotions very well. How do I tell him that I'm crying because Max didn't kiss me goodbye?
Maybe that wasn't the reason though. Maybe it was him screaming at me for my outfit, or almost killing me in the car ride home, or maybe it was the fact that he's hanging out with all of my friends and specifically told me not to come.
"Today was a bad day" I whispered looking at him. The corners of his mouth veered up slightly as he stood in front me, making me smile slightly. "Do you want to talk about it?" He whispered back. I shook my head. I looked back towards the house.
"I didn't mean to intrude. I can go I just-" I said shaking my head. Chris shook his head. "Don't worry about Nate, he's probably in my room eating everything in my pantry by now" Chris smiled making me smile. I liked his smile. He had a nice smile. I wanted to tell him that, but I knew I shouldn't. So I stayed staring at him for a second causing him to speak again.
"Do you want to leave?" He asked quietly. I blinked up at him. No. I shrugged. He turned his head slightly smiling down at me. "I don't want to ruin your night" I whispered honestly. It was true, I didn't. I didn't want him to worry about me, but I needed him in a way I couldn't explain. He smiled and shook his head as if that was a stupid thing to say. "Would it be sad to say that I was waiting for you to show up?" He said quietly. I bit back a smiled and looked down. Okay, that was kind of cute.
"I want you to stay" He whispered. I looked up at him. "I want to stay too" I admitted back. He smiled and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the chair. "Sit" He motioned to the chair. I sat down as I watched him sit in the chair across from me. I looked into the fire and pulled my knees up to my chest and took a deep breath.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? Did something else happen with Max?" He asked looking at me. I just looked at the fire. I shrugged. He didn't say anything for a second as we listened to the cracking of the fire in front of us. I didn't really want to talk about Max with him. It didn't feel right.
"Did you break up?" He asked quietly. I looked over at him. The fire lit up his face in a dangerous way. In a way where the way he was looking at me made me want to wipe the tears from my face and walked over and straddle him then and there.
I shook my head at my thoughts. Why do I think like this only when I'm around him? I wish I could keep thoughts from popping into my head but it's hard when I'm in his presence. It just does something to me.
"No" I stated. He looked back at the fire and nodded. I breathed out. "I think he's mad at me" I said, then realized how stupid that sounded. 'I think my boyfriend is mad at me so I started crying and came here'. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. "Why?" Chris asked after a second.
"I don't know, I thought it was for the clothes thing, but even after I changed he was cold." I said shaking my head. "All of my friends are over at Cayden's right now" I said looking at him. "Why aren't you there?" Chris asked leaning forwards on his arms. I looked back towards the fire.
"He told me he didn't want me to come and told everyone that I had some family thing that I couldn't get out of" I sighed. Chris fell silent for a second. I realized how stupid and self absorbed this sounded as it came out of my mouth. I shook my head. "Sorry it's stupid" I said looking at him. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.
"It's not stupid, it's shitty" He said looking at me. I smiled slightly. I let my knees go and put my feet on the ground and leaned back in my chair. "The puck thing-" I started, he looked up at me with a smile. "It was kinda good" I laughed lightly. He smiled and looked down. He shook his head.
"That's what he gets for leaving his keys unattended in the boy's locker room" Chris said smiling. I smiled. I shook my head looking up at him. "Can we stop talking about Max now please?" I smiled looking at me. He raised his eyebrows leaning back. "You don't have to tell me twice" He breathed making me blush. He looked up at me and pursed my lips.
It was these moments that I wish I knew what he was thinking. But I never could.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked quietly looking up at him. He nodded slightly. I leaned forward on my arms and looked at him. He looked at me, studying me. "Why are you so closed off?" I asked looking at him. His eyes darted towards the fire. Silence filled the air.
"I feel like I've told you more than I've told anyone in my life" I sighed, being fully honest. Max doesn't know about my parents, how I feel, how I think, the stars, the stupid car, any of it. Neither did Sydney or Cayden. Only Chris.
"And I feel like I don't even really know you" I breathed looking at him. He glanced up at me when I said that. "I want to know you, Chris" I whispered. I do want to know him, more than I've wanted to know anything or anyone in my entire life.
His eyes shifted from me again and he took his lip ring into his mouth. I just watched him. I watched as he contemplated something in his mind that I couldn't read. I just stared at him until his eyes met mine again.
He suddenly stood up off his chair and walked over to me. I leaned back in my chair as he approached me. I just blinked up at him as he looked down at me. He held his hand out for mine. "Get up" He said. I just looked at his hand and then to his eyes. Was he kicking me out? Did I offend him that much? My heart sunk into my chest as I looked up at him.
"What?" I choked. A smile drew on his face as he shook his hand. "Get up, come on" He laughed lightly. Okay, maybe he wasn't kicking me out. I placed my hand in his as he pulled me off of my chair. I looked at him as he didn't move away right away. We were just standing very close, just looking at each other.
"I want to show you something" He whispered. I just looked up at him, pathetically probably as I whispered a quiet "Okay". He smiled as he lead me into the woods behind his house where there was no light.
His hand was still grasping mine. I looked around into the dark tree line. Okay this was terrifying. I looked around and the only sounds were the sounds of leaves crushing beneath our feet as we walked.I heard a sound behind us and I grabbed Chris's arm with my other hand and pulled him close to me as we walked. He laughed lightly.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked him not letting go of his arm. "You'll see we're almost there" He whispered back. My first thought would be, he is taking me in the woods to kill me, but that thought didn't cross my mind. With all of the evil things that probably live in this forest, he isn't one of them. I didn't know why I knew that, I just did. I just clung tightly to him as we walked.
A few minutes later there was a clearing, and a slightly noise of rushing water of a stream. I lifted my head and saw a small patch of grass that overlooked the river with a tire swing that hung from a tree beside the grass and a few blankets. I dropped his hand and his arm as I looked over the clearing. It was dark, the only light being the moon in the sky, but I could still see everything. It was beautiful.
"Chris what is this place?" I asked as I turned back to him. He smiled and put his hands in his pockets. "This is my place" He said looking at me. "It's where I come to think sometimes, or where I went as a kid when I wanted no one to find me" He explained as I walked over to the tire swing and ran my finger down the rope that was attached to it. I turned and looked at him, smiling.
"It's perfect" I whispered. He chuckled lightly before I heard him move. I looked over and saw him grab a blanket and lay it out on the patch of grass. He sat down and looked at me. I just stared down at him. He patted the seat next to him. I smiled and rolled my eyes before walking over and sitting next to him.
"How many girls have you taken out here? Be honest" I smiled looking up at him, but his face fell straight. "None" He said blankly. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him. He looked down at me. "I feel like this would be your number one hook up spot" I laughed lightly. He shook his head and looked back towards the stream.
"I don't hook up with people" He stated. Silence fell between us. I looked forward. "Oh" I breathed. I don't know why I assumed he did. He's an attractive, sarcastic, badass guy with tattoos. I bet girls swoon over him. Why wouldn't he take girls here? They would eat this up. I know this because I am a girl and I am in fact, eating this up.
"My Grandpa build that swing when I was nine" He said pointing over to the tire swing. I looked over at the swing and then back at him. "I would come out here for hours when I was a kid" He explained. I just watched him as he spoke. "My mom would have to come out here and drag me away when it started to get dark and I would cry because I didn't want to leave" He laughed lightly, making me smile.
It made me happy to think of Chris as a little kid. For some reason I imagined him as a playful little boy who was full of energy and adventure. A kid who was always happy and bouncing around. Sometimes I feel like I could still see that kid somewhere inside him every time he smiled. I just smiled at him as he continued.
"My dad would sneak back here with me and let me stay out a little later, since he went with me" He said as he looked away from me. I looked down at my lap as he spoke.
"Why don't you have a good relationship with your parents anymore?" I whispered looking up. He pursed his lips and looked at me. I just looked at him, waiting for him to answer, not knowing if he actually would. He let out a breath.
"You asked me why I moved here once" He said turning from me. I did. I remember because he stormed off and got so angry at me for asking me the question. I didn't push him again after that. Now I'm thankful for that because he's breaking open, finally. I nodded.
"There was this girl back in Masscucets" He breathed. I felt a twitch in my chest. It almost felt like jealousy. It was wrong, I wish I didn't feel it, but I did and I tried to swallow it as I listened to him speak. My eyes stayed on him, but he looked forward, like he didn't want to look at me as he spoke.
"She was my girlfriend" He explained. "I loved her more than I've loved anyone in the entire world" He breathed. I swallowed. There was silence again, like he didn't want to continue. I knew there was more to the story the way he stopped. "What happened Chris?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. I saw his eyes begin to water and he bit his lip. It broke my heart. He swallowed.
"She uh-" He breathed. He took a deep breath. "She killed herself, overdosed on pills in her bathroom" He swallowed. My heart dropped to my feet as I looked at him. My heart broke for him. I couldn't help it but my jaw parted, in shock. I just blinked at him fro a moment not knowing what to say. He glanced over at me and then back to his feet.
"Chris" I breathed looking at him. He turned his head from me so that I couldn't see his face. I hated it, the way he hid from me. I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arm around his and leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes, just feeling his embrace against mine.
He let out a shaky breath and leaned his head against mine. "I'm so sorry" I whispered. He didn't speak next to me. "Do you know why?" I asked him, looking up. He stared forward and pursed his lips. His eyes were no longer teary, as he contained himself.
"There was a note, it was brief. Just saying that's she sorry and that she loved us and that she just couldn't do it anymore" he explained. I looked at him. He looked down at me.
"My parents didn't know what to do. I wouldn't leave my room after the funeral and they said I was depressed" He sighed. "And maybe I was but they didn't know how to help. We got into fights constantly before they just gave up and sent me to live with my Grandpa" He explained. I looked down, not even imagining how hard that probably was for him. To have the one person love be taken away and then being forced off to a new life.
"New state, new town, new high school, new life" He said softly. "and in the middle of the year" He breathed, laughing lightly. I leaned back and looked at him, letting go of his arm. "I can't imagine going through that Chris" I breathed. He looked down not looking at me. "You're so strong for that" I said shaking my head. He looked up at me.
"Yeah that's what everyone keeps saying" He said nodding. I frowned at him and reached up and grabbed his hand making him look at me. "For whatever it's worth, I'm glad you're here" I whispered. He smiled and looked down, nodding.
"It was hard at first--the move" He breathed reaching up and pushing his hair back out of his face. "But then I met Nate and things got a little better. I feel like he knows me better than anyone" He said looking at me, I nodded. "My grandpa and I were rocky at first, we still kind of are, because of all the fights I get into" He said glancing at me.
"Why do you get into fights?" I asked. He pursed his lips as if he were thinking about it. "I guess I'm just mad at the world or something. It makes me feel better" He said looking at me. I frowned at him.
"I feel like whatever I do to that person, they won't ever feel the way that I felt when the world took her away from me, so it's hard to have sympathy for them" He admitted. What he said was cold, but in a way I understood where he was coming from. If something like that ever happened to me, I'd be mad at the world too. Everyone had their way with coping.
"What was her name?" I asked quietly. He looked over at me.
"Rose"
My eyes glanced down to the tattoo of a flower on the back of his arm, a rose. He looked down at his arm too before crossing them over his chest. "It's a pretty name" I whispered smiling. He smiled and looked at me and nodded. He leaned back on his arms.
"I just wanted to tell you this because you said that you've told me things that you've never told anyone before" He said as he looked at me. I just stared back at him. "So there's something that only you and Nate know about" He smiled sadly. I smiled back at him.
He looked around. "And now you know my secret spot too" He motioned around us. "Nate doesn't even know about this spot, so don't tell him" he whispered making me laugh.
"I like your spot" I whispered, making him smile. "Thank you" He whispered. I nodded. I laid back completely against the ground and looked up at the stars. Chris looked down at me as I stared into the sky. "You know" I started. He still looked down at me. "Today I stood up for myself" I said. Chris blinked at me.
"In front of Max" I said looking at him. His expression didn't change as he hovered over me and looked at me. "I finally told him that I hated the way he was treating me, like some girl who's just his display case. Told him I wasn't going to go to his stupid family dinner" I breathed. I shook my head, remembering it all. "How'd that go?" He asked me. I looked over at him.
"He went over 120 on a backroad until I agreed to go" I whispered. His face hardened. "Y/n-" he started. I shook my head, not waning him to say anything. "I've never been scared of Max in my life" I whispered looking up at the sky. "But even after he stopped I felt like I couldn't breathe like I couldn't keep my heart rate down I-" I stopped and bit my lip.
"You were probably having a panic attack Y/n" He said looking down at me. I swallowed and closed my eyes. "The only thing that helped me calm down was when I thought of you" I whispered. My eyes still closed, not wanting to look at him, not believing that I was actually admitting this to him. I blinked them open and saw Chris, his eyes still glued on mine.
"I don't know why but I did" I said looking at him. He licked his lips. "Can I tell you something?" He whispered. I just looked at him, insinuating for him to continue. "You're the first person I've kissed in three years" He admitted looking down at me. I sat up and looked at him, his eyes followed mine.
"A-Are you serious?" I asked looking at him. That meant that I was the first, since her. He smiled and nodded. I smiled and looked at him. I looked down at my hands. "Why do you act so surprised?" He asked looking at me. I looked up and looked him up and down. "Look at you" I said smiling. He looked at himself then back to me with a confused expression.
"What are you saying Y/n?" He smiled narrowing his eyes at me. I rolled my eyes and pushed his shoulder. "You know what I'm saying Chris" I said shaking my head. He smiled and laughed. I rolled my eyes. "Didn't feel like it was" I whispered. I know he heard me because of the way his eyes burned into the side of my head.
"Hey Y/n?" He whispered making me look up at him again. I swallowed and met his eyes. He went silent as he looked at me, like there wasn't a follow up to his question. He just wanted me to look at him. The way he looked at me made my head spin. The way I could still see his blue eyes so prominently even though we were still in the darkness. I could still see the way he was looking at me. If I wasn't already sitting, I would have fallen to the ground.
"Yeah?" I breathed. He blinked at me. My throat ran dry, and I couldn't speak. Not with the way he was looking at me, and not with my way my heart was pounding against my rib cage. I swear if you listened hard enough and blocked out the sounds of the stream, you could hear it beat. He leaned forward slightly, and I did too. I felt his hand lay over top of mine and our faces were getting closer. The sounds of the stream and the crickets chirping being the only sounds between us.
He pressed his forehead against mine. We just looked at each other. Like we both know what he was about to say without him saying it at all. Neither of us made the move to connect our lips that kept brushing over one another's. His lips were right there and briefly touching mine, but weren't connecting. Why weren't they connecting? He wasn't moving forward and neither was I.
He closed his eyes before leaning back and taking his hand off of mine and looking out onto the creek. I let my head fall and I closed my eyes letting out a breath I was holding. Like that interaction had left me breathless and he hadn't even touched me.
I leaned back and looked towards my lap as the silence fell between us, but it's like it had spoken a thousand words. I hated this.
I felt my phone buzz that was beside us and it caused us both to look at my phone that lit up the space between us. I looked down and saw messages start to buzz over and over.
from: Max❤️❤️                         11:42 pm
baby I'm so sorry about today
from: Max❤️❤️                         11:42 pm
I was an asshole I don't deserve you
from: Max❤️❤️                         11:43 pm
I miss you I wish I would have just let you come, you're all I'm thinking about
from: Max❤️❤️                         11:43 pm
fuck I love you
We both stared down at the phone as I powered it off and looked toward the stream. He looked at me as I stared. "He's drunk" I stated. Chris turned to look in front of us as well, not saying anything. He sighed before standing up. I looked up at him and he looked down at me.
"Nate probably wondering where I am, we should go back" He sighed. I looked down at my feet before standing up and nodding. We both stood there looking at each other for a second. "He probably thinks you kidnapped me or something" He whispered smiling. I laughed and looked down and nodded.
"He probably does" I agreed looking at him. He motioned back towards the forest. I followed him through the woods. This time behind him, not holding his hand or arm. Just behind him so that he could lead the way. How friends walk with each other, and yet I hated every second of it.
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meownotgood · 1 year
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cpr. / dan heng x gn!reader, fluff, soft kisses, dan heng teaches you how to do "cpr" (poorly)
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I want to teach you the basics of first aid. Come to my room as soon as possible. 
That's it. 
There's no, Would you like to come to my room? or, Learning first aid would be helpful for you, what do you think? Dan Heng is just as to-the-point as the first time you met him, and even though you try to pretend like it gets on your nerves, huffing your complaints to March and texting back an annoyed K, you still find yourself shuffling over to his quiet room on the Astral Express the moment your phone pinged you with the notification. 
You're silently thinking to yourself as you make your way there, rounding the hallway as slow as you can to give yourself a few extra seconds, or possibly to make Dan Heng wait for longer — or maybe it's both. 
Yet despite how much you ponder, even though you've known him for long enough to start understanding him, you can't decide if he's so direct because he's just that way with everyone, or if it's because he knows you'll always listen. 
Upon entering, his cabin looks the same as it always does: books strewn about and left open on important pages, glowing circuitry lining every wall, his bed unmade, pillow askew, blanket balled up in the corner. When you step in and slide the door closed behind you, he doesn't bother to look up from where he's sat cross-legged and hunched over a data screen, he simply pats the floor next to him with his palm and cocks his head to signal you to come sit down. 
"You almost got yourself killed on our trip to Belobog. Multiple times." Dan Heng explains, tone stern and resolute, not exactly rude, just matter-of-fact. Your knees knock his own once you've settled next to him. Your heart stutters a bit at the proximity, but he doesn't seem to mind. While he speaks, his eyes never stop scanning the screen. 
"We'll reach the Luofu soon, and I won't be coming with you. My biggest concern is you not knowing what to do in an emergency." He turns towards you finally, sharp and serious gaze meeting yours. "I'm already not excited about this, but I'd feel better if you let me run you through a few exercises." 
"I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. I know enough. I think." 
Dan Heng stares back with narrowed eyes and with his arms crossed over his chest, unconvinced. 
In a moment, he pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the desk and rooting around its contents, all while completely disregarding your last statement: "I'll lend you a first aid kit. If we start now, I should have enough time to teach you everything you need to know, mostly everything. I'm serious about this, so please try and pay attention. For your own sake." 
Right. That's fine. You can handle it. You're a pretty fast learner, you think. And thankfully, mostly everything consists of things you already sort of knew or techniques that are relatively simple to comprehend. 
Dan Heng walks you through the steps to bandage a wound — He holds your arm gently as he's showing you the proper way to wrap it, pulling on the bandage tightly and then softly, idly rubbing circles onto your skin with his thumb. 
How to treat a fractured bone, what to do if someone is choking — Dan Heng wraps his arms around you and shows you where to place your hands, resting yours on top of his in the center of your stomach. His chest presses flat against your back, his hair tickles the side of your face and you almost miss when he says into your ear, "Shove forcibly right here, and keep going until… Are you listening?" 
"Yes," You answer. "Er, sort of." You rectify. 
Dan Heng expels a heavy sigh. Right then, you half expect him to give up and kick you out, but instead he holds your shoulder and shifts back, he mutters a barely audible C'mere and guides you to rest your head squarely in his lap, leaving you laying down and peering up at him. 
He admits honestly, "I'm worried about you. If something were to happen to you there, I mean I trust everyone to look after you, but…" 
It isn't like him to trail off. "But what?" 
"But you need to know how to take care of yourself."
Shifting his hand underneath you, he props your head up further with his arm, the metal of his bracer firm on the back of your head. "For now, I'll teach you how to perform CPR. Pay attention to what I do. After this, we'll be done." 
The room's silence seems to stretch on. The endless hum from the systems and analyzers echoes in your ears, your heart pounds in them even louder. Dan Heng brushes his nimble fingers over your chest, right between your ribs, as his eyes scan your face they start to take on a certain sort of softness. 
He composes himself with a sharp breath out, a deep breath in. And then, he's leaning close, too close, gripping your chin deft between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards. You watch his eyes flutter shut and you follow his lead. 
Your heart continues to thump so hard you're certain he can feel it: once, twice. Warm lips brush your own, clearly hesitant, and it's nothing like the straightforwardness you've always been used to getting out of him. No, Dan Heng seems nervous this time, and as he connects with you in an open-mouthed kiss, his hands getting sweaty, warmth pooling in his chest, he can't help his mind from becoming a total mess. 
He isn't thinking all of the sudden, isn't considering any of the consequences, like he's always tried to do. Your lips are on his, he didn't lock the door; he nearly forgets to breathe a steady puff of air into your mouth once the tingling feeling and the heat rising to his cheeks commands all of his attention. 
Almost as quickly as he leaned in, he's forcing himself to tear away from you, his eyes opening slowly, his expression completely unreadable. 
"It's self-explanatory." He reasons, sure of himself, but you swear his voice sounds quieter than it did before. Any louder and he'd trip over his own words, "You got it, or do you need another demonstration?"
"Show me one more time. Just in case." 
If anything were to happen to you, if you died and he wasn't there… 
And once more, Dan Heng is closing the distance, this time briefly reaching up to brush a few strands of stray hair away from his eyes before tilting his head and pulling you closer. 
He's gained a bit more confidence, and he kisses you hard, stops for a moment, caresses your jaw with his fingers and meshes his lips with yours to kiss you again — and you can't help yourself from reaching up, settling your arms around his shoulders to tug him in as close as you can get him. And he lets you. 
You'll be fine, won't you? He isn't sure, and he hates that he isn't sure. 
He'll have to ask you to promise him. 
You freeze, and he pulls away, only by a couple of centimeters, enough to breathe but to still feel his breath fan over your skin when he exhales. He's blushing fully now, you sigh his name against his mouth and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard; he shivers all the way from his neck to the base of his spine. 
His head goes fuzzy, his heart throbs and twists like a burning star — God, he doesn't know what to say. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, but the more he stares down at you, the longer you hold his gaze and let the seconds revolve around and around, he starts to forget it all. 
Dan Heng swallows the thickness forming in his throat, and he's about to force himself to say something when you suddenly start speaking instead. 
"You're doing it wrong, you know." 
"Huh?" 
Your head tilts. "Come on, there's no way you're that horrible, right? If you wanted to kiss me before I went, you could have just said so." 
And Dan Heng, ever-so direct, always so composed, feels his lips start to quiver and somehow can't manage a response to that. 
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How does Minotaur!Konig handle an argument with his wife/his wife being upset with him? He clearly avoids making her upset as much as possible because he loves her and only wants to see her happy, and she loves and accepts him as he is, quirks and all so I don't really see them getting into fights but maybe he gets way too reactive and violent with someone in town over a perceived slight and she gives him the silent treatment on the way home or something. I feel like he'd be so sad even if she only didn't talk to him for like an hour 😞 I can also see his insecurities/abandonment issues coming into play, he starts overthinking and makes it a whole big thing in his head and meanwhile she's already forgetting that she was even upset with him. These are just my thoughts but maybe you have something else in mind/see it playing out differently!
Yes absolutely!!
Minotaur!König cannot cope with this shit at all. The last time he did something “bad” ended in him being thrown into a cold, dark Labyrinth. Even as a grown man he goes straight into survival mode if he sees that he has somehow disappointed his beloved 💔
His wife knows how König is so it would take a lot for her to visibly show she’s upset with him. Our bull tries to avoid chaos as best he can which means arguments between these two are extremely rare — but they do happen! Because one thing you must know about all versions of König is that they think they’re always right. Minotaur!König is just as thick headed as the rest of them so if he thinks that “his cause is just” then he will stand his ground no matter what. He will claim that water is wine if he thinks it’s so!
Some petty perceived insult directed at his wife could get him riled very easily, could get them both into trouble because König won't cool down before he’s drawn blood. He wants to give this poor soul's head to his wife, on a plate if possible, and if he can’t do that the tension just won’t go away. How can life go on if he hasn’t done what’s right??
She has to guide König in social situations and explain later what it was all about, what different phrases mean and how he can’t just kill people if they don’t behave the way he wants them to. In some ways, she knows she is dealing with a child and has to be patient, how could this poor man know how to behave when he lived underground all those years? All he was taught was that he’s evil, unwanted and ugly, so the last thing she wants to do is hurl blame at him and scream. Silent treatment would totally be one of her ways to show him he didn’t get points home this time, but for König even the tiniest distancing looks like she’s abandoning him. Throwing him mentally into a tiny tiny Labyrinth, telling him he’s not wanted, that he’ll never be loved :(
And poor König doesn’t know what to do and how to be, for a while the anxiety threatens to take over. He reaches for her hand, then pulls away fearing she doesn’t want to be touched. He tries to talk, but nothing comes out because he doesn’t entirely understand what he should apologise for. He stands in the middle of the room and watches her blow air on the coals and just go on about her day, thinking that the time has finally come when she tells him to get out of the house.
It takes years before König takes the initiative in reconciling because he simply doesn’t know how to do it. Blunt, pained statements such as “Are you upset with me,” and “You’re disappointed in me” are common before he learns that the world is not going to end even if they’re not happy with each other all the time. His wife is usually the one who comes to him and says that everything is okay and that she was only upset with what he did, not with who he is.
Just imagine this adorable goof being both stubborn in his "I don’t have to say I’m sorry" policy and crippled by his "Are you going to abandon me" fear 💔 How can you even be angry at this man? There’s no chance, especially when he’s a jerk only once or twice a year 🩷🦬
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hunny-bean · 10 months
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Hello, I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Frank tells Matt what he does with you after his patrol, how tight you are and how good your pussy tastes. Frank takes Matt to his apartment and the two have a lot of fun with the reader. They use the reader like a sex doll. Despite the years with Frank, the reader is too tight and Matt is too big.
In High Demand
Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x F!Reader
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Summary: Matt's been overworking himself. Frank knows someone who can help him relax.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome, Oral Sex (M and F Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Praise and Degradation, An Obscene Amount of Dialogue, The Reader is Very Slutty (I'm Sorry. . . No I'm Not).
A/N: Well, I'm officially out of the frying pan and into the fire. Of course, by fire, I mean threesome. I'm sorry this took so long for me to finish. I'm a bit of a slow editor. If you have any constructive criticism, I will absorb ALL of it happily. I'm trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Also, I'm always taking requests! XOXO.
Read on AO3
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
"I really appreciate you helping me out with this, Frank."
Frank looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the brick barrier. "Yeah, well, I owed you one," he replied, "and I'm not a huge fan of being in debt."
The two vigilantes were resting on a vacant rooftop, listening closely for any signs of danger. Hearing nothing, Matt figured the "Devil of Hell's Kitchen" had driven everyone with something to fear from him back inside. He declared his nightly patrol a success. As soon as he switched off attack mode, he felt the exhaustion hit him, and he slumped down on the wall next to Frank.
"So, you're saying you did all this to balance the scales?" Matt asked incredulously.
"Just about," Frank muttered, scratching a little blood stain off the knife Matt let him borrow. "And I only beat up one guy, so it's not like I actually had to work for it."
"I'd say you worked hard enough. I mean, you did make it all night without killing anyone."
"There you go again with that self-righteous bullshit," Frank groaned. "What I don't get is why you would ask someone you constantly feel the need to babysit for help."
Taking a deep breath in, Matt forced himself to stand, getting ready for the walk back to his apartment.
"You were convenient," he explained. "I knew your skills and I knew where to find you. Also, you're not nearly as lethal without all your guns."
"Well, fuck you too," Frank grumbled. He waited for Matt to take a few steps towards the ladder before chucking the knife he was holding directly at the back of his head. He watched it spiral through the air, perfectly on course, only to land gingerly in Matt's hand. It was almost like the knife changed its trajectory at the last second, but Frank knew that wasn't the case. Besides, it's not like he actually wanted to hit him. He didn't even think that was possible.
Matt turned back in his direction. Even through the mask, Frank could feel the raised eyebrow. He ignored it. Hopping up, he made his way over so the two of them could walk together.
"Okay, but why ask for help at all?" Frank pressured. "It's obvious you can handle yourself, and you've never asked before."
"You know as well as anyone how unpredictable these streets can be," Matt began. "You're right, most nights I can handle myself, but. . . I wasn't so sure about tonight. I wanted someone there, just in case."
He was about to start climbing down the ladder, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could.
"Something tells me you're not gonna be so sure about tomorrow, either."
"What?"
"Come on, Red. Look at yourself. You're practically dead on your feet," Frank pointed out. "It's three in the goddamn morning, you just fought like fourteen people, and now, what? You're going home to get your two hours of sleep before work?"
"Four."
"That's still not enough, and you know it."
"I'll be fine," Matt asserted.
"No one can do that every night and be fine."
"Why do you care?"
"Because unlike some people, I actually respect what you do around here, and I don't wanna find out what this shithole would look like without you," Frank raved. There was a long silence after that, both men startled by the declaration.
"You won't."
Matt began his descent, ready to end their conversation. Frank, it seemed, had other plans.
"If you were fine, you wouldn't be taking the ladder," he called down after him.
Matt paused, resting his head against the metal rung in front of him. He was really starting to get aggravated by Frank's incessant concerns. The most annoying part was that he was right. Matt would usually make it home from patrol in two minutes flat, his feet touching nothing but rooftops. He picked a shorter building with a ladder tonight because he feared his body was too sore to make the jumps. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement.
'You have nothing to prove,' he repeated in his head like a mantra. It worked at first; he made it another three steps down, but then he heard Frank's stupid voice again.
"Why won't you just admit that you're burnt out?"
Matt gritted his teeth, unable to hide his frustration any longer. He gave up on avoiding conflict and began climbing back up to the roof to be on the same level as Frank.
"I am not burnt out," he growled.
There was an awkward pause as Frank looked Matt up and down, thinking. He carefully considered his slumped posture and his shoulders racked with tension. Matt couldn't see him, but he could feel Frank's eyes examining him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was about to say something, but Frank broke the silence before he could.
"When's the last time you got laid?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I'm sorry-"
"You're not a virgin, are you?"
"What? No!"
"So how long's it been?"
Matt wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden shift in the argument. he kinda felt like he was in a train headed towards a cliff that suddenly veered off course. He was safe from the fall, but who knew what lay ahead of him now?
"Why the hell would you want to know that?" he asked.
"Just answer the question."
"Uhh, a few months? I don't kn-"
He was interrupted again by Frank letting out a low, impressed whistle.
"That's even worse than I thought," Frank said.
"You've thought about this?" Matt asked, horrified.
"No, jesus christ, man, it's obvious. You're all tense 'n shit. You look like you haven't relaxed in a while, that's all."
Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "I think we should go," he mumbled.
"I think you should get some."
"Ok, well it's not like you've got someone waiting for you at home either," Matt snapped.
Frank looked at Matt quizzically, letting out a surprised chuckle.
"What?" Matt asked, exasperated.
"Nothing," Frank responded. "It's just that you really are off your game."
"What are you talking about?"
"There is someone waiting for me at home right now."
"Bullshit."
"I thought you could, like, smell it on me or something," Frank speculated.
Now that he mentioned it, Matt did notice something different about Frank's unique smell. There was a slightly sweeter scent intertwined with his typical smoke and rosewood. He knew Frank wasn't lying, but for some reason he didn't want to believe it.
"I didn't hear anyone else inside when I came to get you," he added.
"She was out with some friends. She should be home by now."
"You realize how made up that sounds, right?"
"Cut the crap. You know it's true."
"Yeah, I know," Matt conceded. "She your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. . . At least, I think she is."
"Do you go out on dates often?" Matt supplied. He made a 'come on' gesture to encourage Frank to follow as he started down the ladder once more.
"I don't exactly know what counts as a date in your world, but I think we do." Frank inhaled sharply as he almost lost his footing on a loose bar.
"Wait, does she know who you are? The terms of your agreement-"
"I remember all the terms, thanks," Frank muttered. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out pretty quick though. Maybe I should grow a beard or somethin'."
"Do you love her?" Matt asked when they reached the bottom. The two of them started off in the same direction for their homes, taking only the deserted back alleys they were all too familiar with.
"Well I've only known her for three months," Frank answered, dusting little flakes of rust off his black jacket, "but I think I'm really starting to. She might just be the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever known."
"That's a good sign. Okay, one last thing: Does she sleep with other people?"
Frank suddenly looked like he was remembering something funny. "Only if I ask her to," he smirked.
Matt was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "The correct answer would have been no," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would you ask someone to do that?"
"Well, Red, there's this thing you should know about my girl. I know she seems all cute and innocent at first, but she's actually the biggest slut I've ever met."
"Okay, TMI," Matt complained. Naturally, Frank ignored him. They began walking again, talking more about Frank's secret girlfriend.
"I'm telling you, man, she's perfect," he bragged. The night we met, I found her blowing some guy behind a bar."
Matt had to admit, that was a little amusing. "And what?" he asked, "you just went up to them and started hitting on her?"
"Not exactly," Frank laughed. "I was just walking home, and the guy she was with thought I said somethin' to him or some shit, 'cause he came over to me and started tryin' to pick a fight, right? Well, anyway, I knocked him out cold. Save the lecture, he was a dick wad and he wasn't even that drunk. But this girl, she thought it was hot, can you believe that? So, she starts hitting on me, saying I look strong and dangerous, 'cause apparently she's into that. She kept asking me to take her back to my place, and she was obviously hammered, so I did, just to keep her safe, you know? Almost immediately, she passes out on my bed, too tired to even try to fuck me anymore. Luckily, when she woke up, she remembered everything that happened, and I gave her my number in case she ever needed me to punch somebody else for her."
"And did she?" Matt prompted. He didn't actually care that much, but it was a decent story and it was definitely helping him keep his mind off his injuries.
"Yeah, two days later," Frank grinned. "She wasn't calling for a bodyguard, though. When I picked up, she told me she hadn't been able to stop thinking about me and was wondering if we could talk for a while so she could 'satisfy her curiosity'."
"She sounds very forward."
"You've got no idea. She's absolutely shameless, especially when she's drunk. You know, when she called me, she spent the whole conversation trying to pretend like she wasn't getting herself off."
"Wait, what?!"
"So, I had to sit there for an hour and listen to her try not to moan, and she's usually pretty good at staying quiet, but sometimes she gets so fuckin' wet that she just can't."
"That's disturbing," Matt lied, and was once again ignored.
"It's real easy for her to cover up the noises coming from her mouth, right? But the other ones. . . not so much. So, the whole time, I was just on my couch talking to her, and I was going absolutely insane 'cause I could hear what she was doing. After a little while, I just snapped and I told her if she wanted to hear my voice that badly, she could come over and I'd help her out."
"And?. . ."
"And she did."
"You slept with her the second time you met?"
"Yep. And the third, and the forth. . . probably the first eight times we got together. I mean, we were just goin' at it like every single night. It was amazing. She's so fuckin' tight, like tighter than most virgins. And she's damn good with her mouth. Like, the first time she sucked me off I almost saw your God. I don't think there's a single thing she can't do. Not much she won't do either."
"Really, dude. Stop."
"Whatever, man. I realized I actually liked her when she spent a full weekend at my place. We went out for lunch and played cards and watched a movie. She was just so smart and funny and I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving," Frank reminisced.
"So, is that when you asked her out?"
"No, that was when I asked her to move in with me."
Matt didn't even know where to start unpacking that. Before he could say anything, Frank stopped walking in front of a tall staircase behind a brick building.
"This is me," he announced.
"Hold on, you still haven't answered my question," Matt reminded him. "Why did you ask her to sleep with someone else?"
"Oh, yeah," Frank mused. "About a month ago, I went out for drinks with this old friend of mine, and was going on and on about how he hadn't gotten laid since his divorce. He seemed about her type, so I took him back to our place and had her take care of him for me."
"And she did it, just like that?"
"I told you she was great, didn't I?" Frank beamed.
"And neither of you cared?" That was something Matt was having trouble comprehending. He'd always been pretty possessive in his relationships, and the thought of sharing his partner was completely foreign to him.
"I am not a selfish man, Red. Anyone who dies without experiencing that pussy has never truly lived."
"Good to know."
Frank leaned casually against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"So, uh. . . you interested?"
It look Matt a moment to process what he was being asked, and when he did, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he didn't want to take any more help from Frank, especially not for something like this. He didn't want to come between a happy couple, either, even by invite. On the other hand, it had been a while, and the girl that had been described to him sounded remarkably satisfying. He began to realize that Frank was right: He seriously needed to get laid.
Frank decided Matt had been thinking a little too long.
"Do you like eating pussy?"
Matt was startled out of his inner turmoil. "You can't just fucking ask someone that," he hissed.
"Why not? You seem like you would," Frank stated nonchalantly.
"Fine. Yes, I do."
"Good. I'm tellin' you right now, there ain't a woman in all of New York that tastes sweeter than my baby. You get between her legs, you come out knowing things you didn't think were possible, swear to God."
"I find that hard to believe," Matt scoffed.
"I mean it. I could spend hours down there. I did once, actually, 'till we both passed out. . . But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you? Come on, man. You really need this."
"I don't know, it just doesn't sound like such a good idea."
Frank rolled his eyes. "We're all adults, we can have a little fun. If you want, you can come up to get your dick sucked and then head home. It doesn't have to be a big thing."
"You seem very adamant about this," Matt noted.
"Well, I do aim to please," Frank quipped. "I'm talking about you and her. I think my girl would have a lot of fun with you."
"What makes you say that?"
"You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know. Also, she seems to have a thing for jaded middle-aged vigilantes. So, what do you say? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Murdock."
Matt sighed, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember any of his reasons for saying no.
"Alright," he decided.
Frank's face broke into a wolfish grin, and he began ascending the staircase towards the window at the very top of the building. Matt followed close behind him, wincing at the pain in his sides as he climbed. When the two men got to the top, Frank knocked four times at the glass.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
You had just finished changing into one of Frank's old t-shirts when you heard the familiar rattling of the window pane. You dried your hands on the bathroom towel and smiled as you went to let your boyfriend back inside.
Using that word was strange to you, but still it made you giddy with excitement. You never thought you would meet someone wonderful enough to settle down with, but finally you had. Frank was the most perfect man you'd ever known. He understood you in ways no one else could, and with him, you were satisfied. That was a miracle in and of itself.
You slid open the creaky window with a hard push, and watched as Frank hopped through it with a gracefulness that contrasted sharply with his bulky exterior. He seemed completely unharmed, as per usual, but you had still been worried about him. There was always that small chance he would come home covered in his own blood and full of broken bones. You were about to tear into him for not leaving a note when you noticed the red figure slipping in behind him.
"Hey, sweetheart, you remember me telling you about Matt, don't you?" Frank asked, cradling your face in his hands and giving you a sweet hello kiss.
"Is this him?" you responded, giving the new arrival a once-over.
"Yeah, this is him. Hey, Red, why don't you introduce yourself."
Matt stepped up to you and offered his hand for you to shake.
"Hi, I'm Matt. Frank's already told me all about you," he said cheerfully, almost like he knew something you didn't.
Frank stepped up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and leaning in to tell you something.
"If you're up for it, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor, alright?" he mumbled. You could tell Matt heard everything. You remembered what Frank had told you about him and his unique talents.
You turned towards Frank, sliding your hands under his jacket and leaning in close.
"By that, do you mean you're gonna need me to do him a favor?" you wondered. Frank tucked your hair behind your ear and twirled it idly around his fingers.
"He's pretty high strung right now. I figured he might need a little somethin' special to relax."
"I'm perfectly capable of getting laid on my own, Frank," Matt butted in. Frank ignored him.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"
You laughed. "Yes, about twelve times this morning. You don't need to flatter me, I'll do it."
"You're amazing," Frank marveled, giving you another chaste kiss before turning to address Matt.
"How about you start by taking that stupid helmet off. Let my baby see what she's working with."
A small thrill ran through you when you heard Frank address you as his. You watched as Matt pulled his mask off, revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little nervous but you couldn't see why. He was absolutely gorgeous. His messy hair from the suit only added to the effects of his boyish charm. You noticed he did look rather tired, but that did nothing to dull his handsome features. You could tell you were gonna have a lot of fun with this one.
"He's even prettier than you," you joked.
Frank swatted you lightly on the ass and pushed you in Matt's direction. "Watch it," he growled playfully.
You stalked over to Matt and kissed him lightly on the cheek before pulling him over to the couch.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked gently.
Matt swallowed thickly, trying to adjust to his situation. "Yeah, I'm okay," he responded. You hoped he'd settle in soon. There was something about him that told you he could be a lot of fun when he warmed up. Then again, that was what you were there for.
"What do you want?"
"I'm not exactly sure. Really, I can just go if-"
"No!" you interrupted. "I don't want you to go, I want to make you feel better. I'm okay with whatever you want, promise."
Matt seemed to be struggling to come up with what to say. Honestly, you were feeling a little nervous too, even though there was no reason to be. Suddenly, you realized what the issue was.
"Hey, Frank?" you called out. He came over to the two of you holding a couple of beers in one hand. He passed one to Matt, who accepted it gratefully.
You waited until he was next to you before admitting your problem to him. "I think we feel a little weird because we don't have any rules. Could you maybe. . . tell us what to do?" you asked.
Frank nodded, sitting down in the ratty old armchair next to the couch.
"Why don't you ask me what you wanna do with him, and I'll give you the go-ahead. Sound good, baby?"
You looked over at Matt who seemed to have relaxed some. You definitely found the source of the problem. All you needed was permission.
"Can I kiss him?" you asked.
Frank's eyes were sparkling with his newfound control. "You can kiss him all you want, sugar."
You slid closer to Matt, turning his head towards yours. "Stop me if you get uncomfortable," you whispered, and then leaned in to press your lips to his. Matt groaned and immediately deepened the kiss, eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was obvious now how much he needed this.
He tasted good in a way you couldn't explain, and you didn't want to pull away until you'd figured out what it was. You could feel the throbbing in your core picking up with every passing moment. Your breath caught when you felt Matt reach up to run his fingers through your hair. Wanting to move things along, you climbed into his lap so you could be pressed against him, chest-to-chest.
"Pull her hair. She likes that," Frank suggested.
Matt complied, tugging gently, then harder when he felt you shiver against him. Leave it to Frank to know exactly what you want and when you want it. You pulled back from the kiss to look at your moderator, rolling your hips hesitantly to gauge his reaction. He nodded, and you watched him palm himself roughly through his pants. That was all the encouragement you needed.
Returning to the kiss, you began grinding down hard against him, hoping that he could feel your movements through his thick suit. Matt reacted in a way that showed you he certainly could, gasping and grabbing onto your hips to push up against you. You moaned when one particularly hard thrust allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through your clothes.
"Oh, what the fuck," you breathed, pulling away from the kiss in shock. There was no way in hell he was that big. You settled your weight fully on his lap, gently rocking back in forth to feel more of him. You had to make sure that you weren't just imagining things. You weren't. He was absolutely fucking huge. You weren't sure how he was supposed to fit inside you, but dammit if you weren't excited to find out.
Matt seemed amused by your reaction to your recent discovery. He could smell the sudden increase in your arousal that accompanied the feeling of you getting wetter. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he grinded up against you. Every thrust was deep and dirty, inciting the growing heartbeat between your legs. It felt like he was showing off, or using his knowledge of a secret you had to tease you.
"Feel something you like, baby?" Frank asked from the sidelines.
"Uh-huh," You responded inattentively. You were too focused on the feeling of Matt's bulge rubbing against you to say much more than that.
"Why don't you head on down to the bedroom, alright sweetheart? We'll meet you there in a minute," Frank urged.
Reluctantly, Matt released you and you wandered down the hall to wait for the two men to come join you.
Frank waited for you to be out of earshot before moving to the couch next to Matt. They sat for a second, sipping at their drinks before Frank spoke.
"I know you have a fuck ton of ideas about how you should treat a woman, but I'm gonna need you to forget that shit before I take you back there, okay? I'm doing this for you, but if you don't make this good for her, I will kick you out, got it? She's not interested in your kindness tonight. She wants you to treat her like an object. Like a dumb whore you're just using to get off. I know you've got a dark side in there somewhere, Red. I need you to tell me right now if you think you can use it."
Matt never expected that to be something that would intrigue him. It had always seemed so cruel and taboo. . . but if it was what you wanted. . .
"I can."
"Good." Frank stood up and began walking towards the bedroom. After a few steps, he remembered something and turned back around. "Also, what the hell, man? I'm not letting you fuck her without stretching her out first. I know I said you could hurt her, but I don't want you to make her bleed."
When they made it to the bedroom, they found you laying back against the pillows, gently teasing your clit through your panties. When they came through the doorway, you pulled your hand away, looking up at Frank shyly. He raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing at your innocent expression.
"You couldn't wait two minutes?" He sighed. "I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of our guest, baby, but next time you might not be so lucky."
"I'm sorry," you whined.
"No you're not." Frank came around the bed to sit next to you and directed Matt to sit down on your other side. "I think it's about time to take this off, what do you think?" Frank asked, tugging on the hem of your (his) shirt. You nodded, and he pulled it over your head, leaving you completely naked save for your soft cotton panties.
"What do you want right now, baby? His mouth or his fingers?" Frank offered, turning your head towards him. You were a little confused that those were your only options. Weren't you supposed to be making Matt feel good? Confusion aside, you still couldn't choose. They both sounded very appealing.
"Damn, Red. You must've done a good job back there. She's already having trouble thinking," he teased, flicking you gently on the forehead. "Why don't you use both?" he suggested.
Matt smiled, beginning to understand how Frank expected him to treat you. "If she's all fuzzy from a little kiss, are you sure she'd be able to handle both?"
"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"
You weren't sure what it was, but when Frank talked about you like you weren't there, a combination of arousal and safety washed over you. It always seemed to put you in a different headspace.
Matt climbed on top of you, finding your lips again as he slid your underwear down past your knees for you to kick off. He pulled your legs apart and began tracing your folds gently with his fingertips. Every touch was a completely new sensation. Matt was experimenting, figuring out where you were most sensitive, which motions you preferred and how hard he had to rub your clit to make you whimper.
He circled his fingers around your entrance, dipping into you just enough to feel you pulse and tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper. Right before you started begging, he pushed two of his fingers all the way in, curling them to explore your soft walls. It didn't take long for you to gasp and melt into the pillows as he brushed against your sweet spot. You hid your face in his neck, whining as he assaulted it over and over while bringing his thumb up to massage your clit.
Frank shushed you gently from his spot on the bed, reaching over to stroke your hair as you shook from the intense stimulation. You felt yourself dripping down Matt's fingers, and you could hear the wet sounds you were making as he fucked them in and out of your tight heat.
He pulled you right up to the edge before you heard Frank tell him to stop.
"Not yet," he muttered. "She'll get worn out after the third one, so you should probably make 'em count."
You huffed as Matt pulled his fingers out, earning you a proud and dangerous smirk. He gave you another sweet kiss as an apology.
"Sorry, angel. I don't make the rules," he reminded you.
Any disappointment you felt was soon replaced by the image of Matt sliding down the bed to get between your legs and pull them over his shoulders. Almost as an afterthought, he brought his hand up to his mouth to taste the palm you had drenched. As soon as his tongue touched his skin, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened to look almost predatory, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. He glanced in Frank's direction, silently begging for his permission to proceed.
You didn't see Frank's approval, but you knew exactly when Matt got it because he dove into your cunt like it was a fucking desert oasis. In a lot of ways, it was. He wasted no time with teasing, instead shoving his tongue inside of you as deep as he could get it. Your vision went blurry as your eyes rolled back in your head. Grasping desperately at his hair, you pulled him harder against you until you were worried you would hurt him, but he barely seemed to notice.
He drew his tongue out to give your soaked pussy a few hungry licks, drinking up everything that dripped out of you. The wet noises he created with every suck or swipe of his tongue were enough to have your face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.
Feeling ignored, Frank grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fervent kiss. He dislodged one of your hands from Matt's hair, guiding it over to rub at his clothed erection. You squeezed him through his pants, humming happily when you felt him twitch and grind up into your palm. Deftly, you undid his button and zipper, tugging his pants down just enough to slip your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. You didn't do anything else until he said it was okay.
"You want it, baby?" he murmured against your lips. You nodded, pushing your hand farther in, but you just barely managed to brush against it before he grabbed your wrist. He broke the kiss to look you in the eye, moving his hand from your jaw to gently hold your neck.
"You gotta use your words, sweetheart. You know that," he crooned.
"Please, can I touch it?" you sighed, moaning when Matt started stroking your clit again. Frank used his grip on your wrist to pull your hand deeper in until you could firmly grab his aching cock. You began tugging it slowly as it pulsed and hardened further in your grasp. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his slit and felt him drip onto your fingers, easing the glide of your palm.
You felt yourself getting close again when Matt stuffed his fingers back inside you and sucked hard at your clit. This time, no one stopped you from falling over the edge. You sobbed as your release rushed through you, tightening your thighs around Matt's head and your hand around Frank's cock. Matt groaned against you, savoring the scent and the taste of your satisfaction. Frank hissed at the added pressure, thrusting up into your fist which was slick with his precum.
The two men reluctantly pulled away from you as you came down from your high, giving you time to catch your breath. They returned to their positions on either side of you, stroking your hair or your shoulders as you refocused on reality.
"You were right," Matt announced, breathing almost as heavily as you were.
Frank smirked, looking over you to assess Matt's disheveled state. "Yeah? 'Bout what, exactly?" he asked.
"Everything," He admitted dreamily. To anyone who didn't know the effect you had on fortunate men, he might seem drunk or high. You supposed he kinda was.
"You were talking about me?" you whispered, hiding your face in Frank's neck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.
"I was just braggin' about how good you are, baby," he promised.
Matt laughed quietly at Frank's statement like it was an inside joke no one else would understand.
"He said a lot more than that," Matt disclosed to you. "He said you were the biggest slut he'd ever met. Honestly, he would not shut up about how tight you were, or how good you tasted. I thought he was exaggerating, but I think you just proved me wrong."
You smiled into Frank's shoulder, enjoying the attention. He tapped you lightly on the hip to get you to focus on him.
"I believe you were just given a compliment," he signaled.
Taking the hint, you rolled over to face Matt, angling his face towards you to give him a soft kiss as a thank you.
You looked down to where he was straining against the fabric of his suit. A small wet spot was becoming more visible at the tip of his swollen bulge. You caught yourself before you stared for too long, worried you might start salivating if you let your mind wander far enough.
"That looks uncomfortable," you pointed out. "You should probably take it off before it starts hurting you."
Matt agreed, standing up beside the bed to start stripping off his clothes. If he were dressed normally, you would offer to help, but you didn't even know where to begin with that thing.
"I'm sure she wants to return the favor," Frank advised Matt. "I'll go ahead get her stretched out while you use her mouth, alright?"
When Matt was in just his boxers, you tugged him back down to take your spot in the middle and climbed on top of him. Frank had stood up to finish taking off his own clothes, and when he was done, he kneeled behind you on the bed to get you in the right position.
You found yourself face-to-face with Matt's thinly veiled hard-on and your ass up high for Frank to take you from behind. He slid three of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out a few times to see how relaxed you already were. As soon as you had freed Matt from his final barricade, Frank pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside you in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, wincing at the stretch but enjoying it nonetheless. Frank gave you a moment to gather your bearings before he began to move.
"Focus on him, baby. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to," Frank directed. That was easier said than done when you were being relentlessly fucked from behind, but you had been wanting to get your mouth on him for a while now, and you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity.
Now that you were seeing him in person, Matt's size was almost intimidating. You were glad Frank took it upon himself to stretch you out first, because you were sure you'd be feeling it in your stomach when it was time to switch. His head looked tight and angry, and you watched as a small bead of clear fluid welled out of the tip and ran down the side. You leaned in to catch it with your tongue, whining softly at the taste.
"There you go, sweetheart," Frank praised.
You licked a long stripe up the underside, stopping when you got to the top to suckle gently at the head. You wrapped your hand around the base to stroke him firmly as you focused on taking the first few inches comfortably. It was already stretching your mouth quite a bit and your jaw was aching from trying to force yourself down on it. Before long, your spit was dripping onto your fingers and sliding down to settle at the base, creating slick sounds as you tugged at his length.
You moaned around him when Frank gave a particularly pointed thrust, nailing your spot dead-on. Provoked by your reaction, he repeated the same motion until your eyes rolled back in your head and you could no longer focus on the task at hand.
"Come on, pretty girl. You can take more than that," Frank fussed. "If you want his help, you can ask for it. Don't be shy, baby."
You were reluctant to ask because you wanted to prove yourself to Matt, but you didn't think you would be able to take more on your own. Usually, you were pretty good relaxing your throat, but there was no way you could swallow even half of him without choking. If you wanted to make him feel good, you would need him to take over and force you to blow as much of him as he wanted.
You pulled off of his cock teasingly, hollowing out your cheeks on the way up and swirling your tongue around the tip. You gave it one more little kiss before resuming your strokes, looking up at him to see which motions garnered the best reactions.
"Please," you whined, using your other hand to guide his to your hair.
"Please what, sweet girl?" Matt asked, petting you gently where you placed his hand. You swallowed your pride, giving in completely to both of them. You no longer had anything to prove. You were ready to be used however they saw fit, not caring about anything except making them feel good.
"Please, fuck my mouth."
"Aww, is it too big for you?" Matt consoled, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Do you need my help, angel? You're already being fucked on one end, is that not enough?" he mocked, tightening his grip on your hair.
He knocked your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own so he could rub it across your lips. You opened your mouth for him, and he slowly pulled your head down, forcing you to take him in until you choked. He held you there for a moment, groaning and thrusting up into the wet heat of your mouth before letting you take a breath. He continued like that for a while, guiding your head up and down, forcing you to go deeper each time until you couldn't take anymore.
Behind you, Frank wedged a finger in beside his cock, grunting at the added friction. You gasped at the new stretch, your release slamming into you unexpectedly. You arched your back and pushed into the feeling as he deftly attacked your sweet spot. Frank grinned at your reaction, smacking your ass once to watch you jump and hear your muffled yelp.
"I'm just tryin' to get you loosened up. I didn't mean for you to like it that much, you slut," he teased affectionately. He slipped in another finger, curling them to tug gently at your entrance until he felt that you were ready.
He took his fingers away, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he slid his cock out too, leaving you completely empty. He left a sweet kiss at the base of your spine, letting you know you had done a good job, and moved around you to talk to Matt.
"She's ready for you, if you're interested," Frank informed cockily. He watched how Matt was thoroughly fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, pulling you down to meet him half-way. You were doing much better than Frank had expected you to. It looked like your mind was somewhere far away, and you were just letting Matt use your mouth as a cocksleeve.
He started slowing down his movements, letting you up further and further, until you were back to just sucking at his head while he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. Finally, he pulled you off of him with a soft, wet pop, edging out from under you so he could switch places with Frank. You whined at your sudden emptiness, burying your face in Frank's stomach as he took Matt's vacant spot.
"Is she always this desperate?" Matt asked, replacing Frank behind you. Frank laughed, caressing your head softly as you began mouthing and licking at his abs.
"Pretty much. Actually, she's doing better than she usually is. I think she's just upset that she didn't get you to finish."
"Really? She likes that part?"
"Oh, she loves it. Some days, she even asks me to pull out so I can come in her mouth. Ain't that right, baby?"
You nodded into his hip, sucking a dark bruise into his v-line.
"Why don't you go ahead and finish me off," Frank suggested to you. "I'm sure it'll make you feel better."
He grabbed himself around the base, enticingly pressing the wet head against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth and swallowed him all the way down. You moaned lowly, purring at the feeling of being able to take him comfortably down your throat. He wasn't small by any means, but he was more familiar and significantly less jaw-breaking that Matt.
"Fuck, baby," Frank groaned, tugging at your hair. You were content just to stay like that for a while, holding his heavy length on your tongue and feeling him subtly grind his tip against the back of your throat. With your head still, you could feel every little twitch and taste yourself in every drop that leaked down your throat.
"You wanna move at all?" Frank asked, his muscles tight with restraint. In response, you nuzzled your nose against his skin, swallowing around him in the hopes that he'd let you stay there.
"No? You just like having your sweet little holes filled, huh? That's fine, sugar. You don't have to move an inch, but I'm gonna need more than that if you wanna make me come. Do you wanna make me come, baby?"
You hummed your assent, the vibrations sending a shiver up Frank's spine.
"Then suck," he commanded, and you obeyed. You used as much suction as you could manage, creating a satisfying friction without all the typical motions. You teased the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, listening to his quiet grunts as you drew him closer to the edge.
Behind you, Matt was listening to the sound of your wet cunt dripping onto the bedsheets. He kneaded your ass and thighs in his hands, ensuring that you were fully relaxed before trying to fuck you. Soon, he was nestling his cock between your soaked folds, lining himself up with your tight entrance.
He rubbed the small of your back as he began pushing himself in. He was met with an alarming amount of resistance, and he didn't even get the first inch in before you were clenching down around him and letting out a pained whimper. He pulled back, afraid he would tear something if he carried on.
"Frank, it's not gonna fit," Matt told him. Frank huffed, too busy chasing his own pleasure to think about problem-solving.
"It'll fit, just keep going," he reassured. "She likes the stretch. Hurry up and fuck her already."
"If I tried, I would break her," Matt warned. "Why don't we test out a different position?"
"Fine. Hang on for just a second."
Frank tightened his grip on your hair, whispering a quick apology before pulling you halfway off of him. He gave you no warning before he was slamming back in, forcing a surprised squeak out of your chest as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. Barely a minute passed before Frank's thrusts grew sloppy and more desperate. His cock pulsed wildly against your tongue, and he let out a guttural groan as he came hard down your throat. You eagerly swallowed every drop that spilled out of him, waiting for him to soften a bit before releasing him from your mouth. Laving sweetly at the sides, you cleaned him up as best you could before he pushed your head away from oversensitivity.
"Alright," Frank mumbled, scooting over so you could take his spot in the middle. "On your back, baby."
You flipped over to face Matt, opening your legs so he could settle in between them.
"Pretty slut," he commended, leaning in to kiss you as he lined up with your needy hole once more. "We're gonna make it fit, alright? Don't you worry your cute little head about it."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he began pushing his hips towards yours, his thick cockhead stretching you out obscenely. You winced at the pain, trying to force yourself to relax, but it wasn't working. Matt grunted at the vice grip you had on him, but he didn't advance further until he felt you could handle more.
From beside you, Frank played with your hair and kissed your neck in all your favorite spots until he had taken your mind off the pain. When Matt felt you unclench, he gave you another inch, once again stopping to allow you time to adjust. He continued on like that for a while, feeding his cock into your pussy in small increments until he was completely buried inside you.
As soon as the pain subsided, feeling something that deep was absolutely incredible. You felt yourself get wetter when you realized you could just barely make out the outline of his length poking through your tummy. It was evident to both of you from the very start that this wasn't gonna last long.
"Holy shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Matt groaned, starting a series of very shallow thrusts to get you used to the feeling. "This is what you were made for, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin' good," he praised. Slowly, he began picking up speed, fucking you harder and deeper like he couldn't control it anymore. You felt so full, you figured it was a miracle that he was even able to get half-way in. You couldn't stop the noises that Matt punched out of you with every heightened thrust. Because of his immense size, there was never a moment when he wasn't rubbing directly against your most sensitive areas.
Matt could sense that you were getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be far behind you. He started snapping his hips into yours impossibly harder, spurred on by the prospect of your impending release.
"You gonna come on my cock, angel? It's okay, you can come," Matt encouraged. He heard you cry out and smelled the sudden spike in your arousal. He knew he had you right on the edge. "Come for me sweetheart," he breathed.
You almost screamed as you came, your body arching up off the bed, every muscle tightening and trembling as your pleasure coursed through them. Matt cursed at the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him. He let out a subdued moan as he fucked into you three more times before coming deep inside you. You felt the comforting warmth dripping down your thighs when he slipped out and collapsed on the bed beside you.
When you came down from your high, the night's exertion finally caught up with you. You cuddled into Frank's chest, and he pulled you closer, murmuring to you about how good you were for them. Matt slotted his body into place behind yours, leaving kisses on the back of your neck and stroking your side gently.
"Thank you," he whispered, and before you could respond, he was already asleep. You were about to follow suit, but a thought popped into your head, keeping you awake.
"Is this gonna be a one-time-thing?" you asked Frank, opening your eyes to see his face. He didn't seem surprised by your question. Honestly, he seemed like he'd been expecting it.
"It doesn't have to be," he responded. "If he's ever up for it again, I'd be fine with it."
You nodded, closing your eyes again and starting to drift off to sleep. You passed out in less than a minute, but not before you heard Frank say something that, in the morning, you thought must have been a dream. Nevertheless, it was nice to pretend it was real.
"I love you, baby."
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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Daddy Lessons 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Rafe Cameron
Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.
“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.
The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.
“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 
It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.
“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”
You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.
You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.
You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 
You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.
“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”
“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”
“Oh, okay,” you smile.
“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”
“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”
“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”
“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”
“Sarah?”
“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.
“Did Rose not… explain?”
“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”
He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”
“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 
Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.
“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”
“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.
“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.
You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 
“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.
“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.
“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.
“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”
“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”
“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”
Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.
“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”
You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 
“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.
“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”
“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.
“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.
You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.
A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.
“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”
“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 
“Well I… your dad–”
“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”
“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”
He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.
You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.
“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”
“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”
“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.
“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.
“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.
You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?
“What–”
“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.
“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”
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niqhtlord01 · 4 months
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Humans are weird: D&D Part 7
Alien DM: Can you explain something to me? Human Necromancer: What is it? Alien: Why is your sub class a seamstress? Human Necromancer: You ever wonder why I remove the limbs of every foe we’ve defeated. Human Paladin: Because you pledged your soul to the darkness leaving me pondering why I have left you alive for this long? Human Necromancer: Close but not quite. Human Necromancer: My raise the dead skill allows me to raise one undead creature at a time as a thrall. Human Necromancer: It does not however specify the size of said creature. Human Artificer: Oh my gods…. Alien DM: What? Human Artificer: Is that why you wanted my bag of holding?!!?? Alien DM: What does that mean? What is happening? Human Artificer: He’s been stitching the limbs together to form a single creature. Alien DM: *Realization kicks in* Alien DM: *Turns to necromancer* How big is your creature? Human Necromancer: By last count three miles long and all of it very grabby. Human Paladin: *Vomits* Human Artificer: So you call it out of my bag when you need it? Human Necromancer: Pretty much. Human Necromancer: I call it “Little Bessie”. ------------------
Alien DM: Metal gates slam down from the ceiling, trapping your party in a narrow corridor. Alien DM: You hear the sound of heavy footsteps towards you and from the shadows emerges the dark lord Drakholm himself. Alien DM: His fiery red eyes look down at you all through his corrupted helm. Alien DM: “I have waited-“ Human Wizard: Question. Alien DM: What? Human Wizard: I would like to ask a quick question. Alien DM: You are cutting the dark lord’s speech off before it has even begun. Human Paladin: It is rude. Human Rogue: The man has killed, like, a thousand people. Human Rogue: Do we really care if we’re rude to him? We’re here to kill him! Human Paladin: Good point. Fuck’m them. Alien DM: *Sighs* Fine, what is your question? Human Wizard: Are these metal gates solid gates or a portcullis? Alien DM: It is a portcullis. Human Wizard: I cast Acid Splash through the metal bars and directly at the dark lord as he is giving his speech. Alien DM: You…..what? Human Rogue: No, no; he’s got a point here. Human Rogue: What kind of villain would expect someone to interrupt his big monologue? Alien DM: I guess….roll for it. *Rolls dice, and passes* Alien DM: You fire a glob of acid at the dark lord as he is giving his speech. Alien DM: He was entirely unprepared for the attack and the glob hits him right in the face passing through the opening in his helmet. Alien DM: He lets out the briefest of screams before his head is reduced to a pile of mush. Human Paladin: I am surprised with how easy that was. Alien DM: I hate you all…..so….so very much. ---------------------------------
Alien Shop Keeper: That’ll be seventeen gold pieces. Human Paladin: That’s robbery! Alien Shop Keeper: Those area my prices. Human Rogue: You know that paladins kill the sinful, right? Alien Shop Keeper: So? Human Rogue: Robbery is considered a sin. Human Paladin: *Draws sword* Alien Shop Keeper: Oh no… ------------------------------------- Alien DM: Suddenly, a group of bandits leap from the bushes! Human Druid: I cast mold earth and turn the dirt underneath them to quicksand. Alien DM: *Rolls dice, fails* Alien DM: Well…..not how I expected that encounter to end. Alien DM: Are you going to bring them up to interrogate? Human Druid: In another three minutes. Alien DM: But these bandits can only hold their breath for one minute. Human Druid: You heard what I said. ---------------------------------- Human Wizard: I cast fireball! Alien DM: The fireball direct hits against the enemy troll in the center of town. Human Wizard: YES! Alien DM: It does absolutely no damage however as it is a rock troll. Human Wizard: Oh. Alien DM: The flames roll off it harmlessly and catch several surrounding buildings on fire. Human Wizard: Oh hell….. Alien DM: The citizens of the buildings run out in fear only to be picked up by rock troll and eaten. Human Wizard: Jesus Christ!!! Alien DM: And then the puppies wander into the street. Human Wizard: For fucks sake just kill my character now and spare the puppies! --------------------------------------------- Human Artificer: BEHOLD! Human Artificer: *Removes shroud* My latest invention! Alien Rogue: What is it? Human Artificer: The ultimate undead fighting weapon! Alien Priest: Interesting, how does it work? Human Artificer: Within this sphere is a small amount of explosive powder mixed with blessed salt. Human Artificer: When the charge goes off it sends breaches the secondary holy water cylinder and sprays the entire area with holy water and blessed sand. Alien Priest: So you’ve made. Human Artificer: A HOLY HANDGRENADE!!!!! --------------------------------------------- Alien DM: The monstrous dragon roars causing the nearby mountains to shake and shatter. Human Warlock: I throw the bag of pebbles I have been holding into its mouth. Alien DM: Really? That’s it? Human Warlock: I also despell the shrinking charm I had placed on the pebbles. Alien DM: Wait, they were shrunk? Alien DM: What was their original size? Human Warlock: Boulders. Human Warlock: They were the size of boulders. Alien DM: *Defeat sigh* Alien DM: *Rolls dice and fails again* Alien DM: The pebbles rapidly expand in the dragon’s throat, suffocating the dragon and killing it. Human Warlock: I roll to skin the dragon! Alien DM: Of course you do. ----------------------------------------- Alien DM: What is the point of having these elaborate boss fights if you keep killing them with simple spells? Human Rogue: Well, you can always say it is not allowed. Alien DM: Wait, what? Human Paladin: Yeah; you can say if something is allowed or not. Human Paladin: The DM has that kind of power. Alien DM: I DO!?!?!?!?!!? Human Warlock: Wait……what do you think DM stands for? Alien DM: It stands for something? Human Wizard: “Dungeon” “Master” Alien DM: 0_0
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cocklessboy · 3 months
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So here's the thing about having a post break containment on tumblr: if you make a mistake in the original post, there's absolutely fucking nothing you can do about it.
The people reblogging once you realize your mistake aren't reblogging it from your blog. They're reblogging it from someone you never even knew existed. If you edit the original, it does not affect the copies already being passed around.
You can make an addition to the post with a correction! But here's the thing. Posts tend to break containment if they are tagged and people see it in the tags they follow. But reblogs don't appear in tags. Only original posts do. So your addition will only be reblogged by people who follow you, and it's pretty rare for a post with a correction added in a reblog to break containment in the same way as the original.
So you wind up getting a lot of reblogs with angry comments about how you're wrong (and that's if they're being polite - the less polite ones will attack you rather viciously, which is not something I would wish on anyone). And even if you didn't make a mistake, if there's something you didn't make clear enough for Tumblr Reading Comprehension™️, you'll wind up inundated with angry comments from people who missed the point, and it's too late to go back and adjust your wording to make it clearer.
(That's why I'm making a new post for this instead of responding to the comments I got on the post in question, by the way. I'm hoping some of the same people who spread around the original might spot this one in the tags and share it around as well.)
So what is this about? I recently made a post about how a friend was worried that I was addicted to my ADHD meds purely because I said I look forward to taking them and they bring me joy.
The purpose of that post was:
Something bringing you joy doesn't necessarily make it addictive. (For fuck's sake stop being afraid of pleasure.)
Even if something is addictive, that's not inherently harmful.
Don't be afraid to take your meds just because they might be addictive. If they help you more than they harm you, take them.
I also made a comment about how my ADHD meds aren't addictive anyway. This is the point people have been pouncing on me about. So allow me to explain where that assertion came from.
My psychiatrist, an ADHD specialist who manages my meds: I know you're nervous about addiction and tolerance to meds, but don't worry. If you have ADHD, methylphenidate is not physically addictive.
My GP, who I got a second opinion from out of nervousness: Yup, your psychiatrist is right. You don't need to be afraid to take these. Take them as directed and you will not form a physical dependence on them. If you notice them getting less effective with time, though, you can always just take a break from them to remove any tolerance.
Me, after a year and a half of taking these meds: Yup, no addiction here. I guess my doctors were right.
So here we are. Two doctors and my own personal experience have assured me that ADHD meds are not something to be afraid of. Yet I keep seeing people afraid to take their meds because they're afraid of dependence. So why don't I do a nice thing in this post of mine and reassure my fellow gremlin-brained tumblrs that their meds are perfectly safe to take!
And to be fair, I've gotten quite a few reblogs with tags and additions and comments saying thank you, I was afraid to take my meds, even though they help me, but now I'm reassured that I shouldn't be scared.
And I think that's a positive outcome.
On the other hand, I'm getting some very angry comments from some people who seem to think I'm attempting to spread a vicious, intentional lie claiming that people with ADHD are immune to stimulant addiction and that I'm going to do all kinds of harm, presumably on purpose, because there's nothing I enjoy more than ruining other people's lives! 🙌
I would assume that anyone who thought about this for more than three seconds would realize that's not the case, but this is tumblr.
I've gotten angry rants ranging from "this author you've never heard of wrote a book where he defined addiction as inherently harmful, and therefore you're harming people by saying being addicted to something is not inherently bad!" to "STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!" to "OP is making statements that are incompatible with reality!" and folks? I'm real fucking tired of it.
Is it possible that my doctors are wrong? Of course! Doctors get things wrong all the time, especially when it comes to stuff like ADHD! But yelling at me from across the internet and accusing me of lying is not helpful.
There is nothing I can do about the original post. I can reblog it with an addition clarifying that yes, everyone is capable of becoming psychologically dependent on basically anything in a way that would be considered addiction, and yes, that includes ADHD people and their meds.
To be clear, this does NOT contradict the intent of my original post: that ADHD meds are good, you should take them, medication making you feel good is nothing to fear, pleasure is not the same as addiction, addiction is not inherently dangerous, and according to my doctors, who are fallible human beings but my most trusted source of information as of the writing of that post, ADHD meds are not physically addictive - as in, your BODY will not become dependent on them to function. This is the definition of "addiction" I had in mind when I wrote that post - and I think in a lot of cases the thing upsetting people is that we don't even actually disagree on what we're trying to say, but there was a miscommunication in terms of what I actually meant.
If I could go back and edit that original post and have it change everywhere it's been reblogged, I absolutely would. I would clarify where my information was coming from and what definition of "addiction" I intended, and reiterate that even if something can cause physical dependence, that doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't take it.
But I can't. That post is out there now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Keep this in mind as you go forward in your tumblr journey, friends. If you come across a semi-popular post with a mistake in it, you can bet every bit of your ass that OP has heard about it many, many times already, probably in very impolite terms, and there is nothing they can do about the original post. Unless they're a massively popular blog, a reblog with an addition or correction will not be seen by the people spreading around the original.
And for fuck's sake, stop assuming ill intent on the part of people who say something incorrect online. There are people out there who intentionally spread misinformation, but those people are rare, and usually trying to get you to not vote democrat in US elections, not trying to encourage you to take your fucking meds. If you see a mistake, it's probably an honest one, and if you really want to correct it, be a decent fucking human being, be polite and kind, and try assuming good intentions on the part of the person who said it.
The person telling you to take your meds is not your fucking enemy.
Oh, and do me a favor and reblog this, please. I actually have very few followers so no one will see it if it doesn't get reblogged. Thank you.
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privitivium · 3 months
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angel devil w/ devil crush rambles/hcs, nsfw
only physical devil attribute mentioned is a forked tongue (not used for scenting ), no particular devil, no mentions of makima.
cw;; noncon touching, lingerie, overstimulation, subbot angel :p
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he didn't appreciate how outward and expressive you were. being part of the same division and all, of course you had to make conversation like a good guy, right??? but you werent the good guys. why are you treating everything like its so unexplainably awesome? to put it simply, he didn't like you. that much. however, there was still a small amount of like, trust. he's just ,,, shy in an awkward, apathetic way,,, he does commend you for not being so ignorant most of the time. more insolent, rather.. he thought your time spent on earth would be used well to be a more refined being, but clearly not...
"don't touch me." he would hiss, having grown used to not interacting with other devilsㅡespecially not used to one touching him.. you both took on a relatively human form, so it gets a little startling everytime you touch him.. you seemed to take it a little seriously, however;; seeing as his powers had no effect on you... your touch began lingering a bit longer than usual. you were a bit of a nuisance as he saw it. constantly poking at him, taunting and teasing... a bit annoying is all. "but i'm lonely." you'd complain, huffing. pulling away just to moodily cross your arms over your chest - he would roll his eyes, trying to ignore you as he tries to let himself relax.. not doing anything in particular, merely standing in existence..
and, to put it simply, you liked him. loved? or.. had a crush on him as someone, a kind human, had explained to you the feelings that you felt while meandering around him... you were one to explore your body, as it were natural. finding whatever captured your fancy - or rather, which thoughts made you flustered enough that blood started rushing toward your groin. incredible! first boner, as a human, in a human body, ( eons ago? )... it began to ache after awhile of merely staring at it after it risen,, body uncomfortably warm.. and then; exploring your body until you were trembling and seeing stars... you wanted to share this with angel, wanting him to feel the wondrous pleasure that you felt as it was notorious for couples. but could there be more?? you ask around, none of the other devils comprehending what you were trying to get at, until you asked a few humans at the library who directed you to books on human anatomy and pleasure... amazing! admiring him for the time being..
ㅡ"who is she?" angel points with his eyes, shamelessly toward the young human woman behind the counter of the small store, who seemed a bit too giddy for his liking. his grip on your hand tightens, just a smidge.. you smile widely and flick your forked tongue outward, cheekily - "she's a fan! can you believe it? she likes me..." you would say, hand squeezing angel's right back and beginning to swing your conjoined hands back and forth, a woman who was interested in you.. "she's my friend, lets me come around after everyones gone!" a human friend? are you kidding? keeping his distance by your side, staying away from the smiling woman,,, a disgusting feeling in his gut, feeling a bile in his throat and wondering why you were so interested in human culture such as this, as he lets himself admire the clothes hanging up on the wall in the dim lighting, hand still entwined with yours.
ㅡ"don't worry, we don't need supervision, angel.." you hummed gleefully, dragging him by the hand down the relatively empty street;; no one to gawk at you, that is for certain. having a particular interest in humans fashion, you decided to share this with angel.. whether he liked it or not. as he begrudgingly followed you, unable to pull his hand from yours,,, "where are we going?" he would question, a bit apathetic yet ever so curious as he stealthily admires the downtown area.. really, no one is around.. even at the time of three in the morning? it's a little unbelieveable, knowing how wreckless humans can get during these hours.. but he isn't one to immensely question everything..
"woah, look at this..!" you flaunt a piece of fabric that practically looked like white string on a hanger, excited as you look over at angel. excited to share your interest, is all. totally not to see him in .. whatever it is you're holding.. "don't you wanna try it on? it's so you!!" and then, promptly showing off your body after you dragged him into the dressing room, happily;; the woman busy at the front desk, going over her employee's schedules, definitely not going to bother you..
ㅡbody naked, stripped down to your flesh and dick promptly dangling inbetween your legs as you stood in front of angel, partially facing the mirror while you try and work out the damn mess of fabric. angel, shamelessly letting his eyes rake over your figure. the thought of we shouldn't be here echoing throughout his mind as something warm settles underneath his belly, his cheeks.. set aflame. you began posing in front of the mirror, a bit silly.. in a black, sheer mess of lingerie, before you were helping angel undress to get into something you picked out - all for fun, you tell him, lingering touch along his shoulders and arms.. hrmm.. something like that.
ㅡexploring angel's body in the comfort of your room of your tiny apartment provided by the higher ups. he was a little weirded out by your affinity of magazines with naked humans and tapes stacked by the TV and.. toys strewn about - catching his gaze, and immediately explaining to him what they were for,,, "pleasure," you simplified, giddily as angel takes the time to admire what each little gadget does... only having a few tapes and magazines only for practice, not for material for masturbating as one would think.. often using the image of angel sitting proudly on your girth, taking it with ease,,
a little nonchalant as you explain to his sobbing, writhing form, abdomen coated in his cum and the tip of his cock darkened red in comparison due to the apparent overstimulation you accidentally put him through after jerking him til he came twice in a row.. a little uncaring and utterly happy as you smile over him; fingers dipping inward just underneath his sack,, trying to follow what you saw on those tapes between those two guys... "yeah, you gotta make sure you're all nice and stretched so it's easier for me to slip in... it might be a second." since he was..,, tight. having a bit of a hard time of piercing him with your well-lubed up finger after merely circling his rim, giving him time to react before you began scissoring him - he cries outㅡfidgeting, trying to relaxㅡa high-pitched noise that was melodious. fingers pumping in and out, dutifully. quick, fast, eager to be inside him and feel the way his walls feel around your girth rather than your digits.,, he commends you for your interests, as you graze against his prostate with your digits.,,
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ㅡ"aren't these bodies great, angel?" you'd marvel, grinning as you feel yourself pulse inside him; breathless and marveling at his bare frame, so tiny in comparison to yours.. trying to make out what he was saying through his choked up voice and tears that you lean over and kiss away - his lips following yours before he grabs your face with his dainty hands, cupping your cheeks gently while shoving his tongue in your mouth messily, obviously having no idea what he was doing and simply doing what he felt was right... so pretty, you'd marvel, weirdly keeping your eyes open as you makeout, keeping him stuffed with your cock while you tangle your fingers in his light, dusty red hair.. he seemed to like it; the way he began tensing around you and trying to grind downward with a soft whimper,,
ㅡthe next time when you're out and about, he isn't too hesitant to hold your hand. it feels good, he realizes this like a magical epiphanyㅡin human bodies, so it's technically the same as touching... othersㅡand is sure to take advantage of it by constantly touching on you somehow! "isn't it.. great?"
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rollingsins · 10 months
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all hers, part xxi
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue
summary: Richie's gone. Sam and Tara rush to the police station, and R gets a visit from someone she hoped to never see again.
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Mention of sex, violence.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: it's here! GF final reveal. as mentioned previously, I'm going to try keep the blog spoiler free for the next 48 hours, so won't be posting spoilery asks, but please still feel free to send them through! I'll post them a little later :))))) hope you all enjoy, and I hope your theory was correct!
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Nobody says anything for a good twenty seconds.
The Sheriff’s face is stony. Serious. 
You feel as if your heart has just dropped down into your stomach. 
Tara’s hand grips tight on your hip. 
Sam blinks, mouth open like a fish out of water. 
And then it’s her who breaks the silence. 
“He’s gone?” 
She blinks once more. Her words turn into a splutter. 
“But he’s dead.” 
The Sheriff swallows. You almost feel bad for her, the way she wrings her hat in her hands like she’s standing in front of a courthouse of jurors. 
“He was admitted to the morgue,” She explains, voice soft, “There was a fifteen minute window where the Coroner was off shift. We think it happened then.” 
“You think what happened?” You ask, heartbeat hammering loudly in your ears, “You think he got up and walked out?” 
“No,” Says the Sheriff, a little impatient, “He was dead. He’s definitely dead-” 
“And you lost him?” Tara asks, her voice rising, “You lost a dead guy?”
The Sheriff looks at Sam. 
“Perhaps we should do this somewhere more private?” 
“Absolutely not,” Sneers Tara, “You don’t exactly have a track record of asking the right questions, Sheriff.” 
Except she does. And you know it. You touch Tara’s arm, try to quiet her. 
Let’s not piss off the person who can haul you right back to jail, the look in your eyes says. 
But Sam crosses her arms. 
“Tara stays. She’s right, Sheriff. First you try to pin six murders on her, then you lose the actual culprit. The dead culprit.”  
The Sheriff purses her lips. 
“I’m not here to argue,” She says, directing a pointed look at your girlfriend, “But I am here to find out what happened. Whoever Richie was working with likely took his body. Why? I don’t know. But I need answers. And fast.” 
Sam furrows her brow. 
“I don’t know who he was working with,” She says, “I didn’t even know what he was doing in his spare time. Hell, I had no idea who he truly was.”
She sounds a little agonized. Like it’s her fault her boyfriend almost had her sister killed. 
“But you knew him.” Says the Sheriff, “You knew his patterns, his friends, his routine. If we can pin down some names, we might be able to find the culprit.” 
She stands a little taller. 
“And I’d like you to come down to the station and help me figure it out. Please.”  
Sam looks at Tara, a little torn.
“I need to be here with my sister.” She says. 
“Your sister will be fine,” Says the Sheriff, “I can arrange for a squad car. Two, if you need it. She’ll be safe, Sam. They won’t let anything happen to her.” 
“Fuck that,” Says Tara, “We’re coming. Down to the station. Sam, I’m not letting you talk to them alone.”
There’s fire in her voice. Fire that usually only sparks when it comes to you. You blink, a little surprised. Sam seems to be surprised by it too, going off the look on her face. 
“That really isn’t necessary.” Cuts in the Sheriff, hurriedly, “Tara, it’s really better if I talk to Sam alone-”
“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” Growls Tara. 
The Sheriff blinks, her shoulders drawn tight like she’s gearing for a fight. And then she slumps them. 
“Alright,” She says, voice even, “What matters is finding Richie and his partner. Tara can be with you.” 
Sam swallows. She nods, only slightly. 
“I’ll get my jacket.” 
-
You’re halfway into climbing into the Sheriff’s squad car when a familiar Ford Focus pulls into the driveway. 
It’s your Mom’s car. You spot her behind the wheel, looking a little forlorn as she hurries to step out. 
And then you see your Dad. Face pinched. Annoyed. Like this is the last place he wants to be. 
“One second,” You tell the Sheriff, and before she can protest, you’re climbing out of the backseat and stepping out onto the drive. 
“YN,” Says your Mom, a little out of breath as she approaches. 
Your Dad hovers by the car, scowl on his face as he surveys Tara in the backseat of the squad car. Your Mom’s eyes widen. 
“She’s not been arrested again?” 
“No, Mom,” You huff, “The Sheriff just needs Sam’s help on something, that’s all.” 
“Oh,” Says your Mom. Then her voice softens, “Darling, please. Come home with us. We all need to talk.” 
“I don’t think so, Mom.” You begin, “Not when Dad’s acting- crazy, like this.” 
You look over at him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Tara. Glaring, eyes frosted over. Like he hates her more than anyone else in the world. 
“Dad has agreed to listen,” Your Mom begs, “Please, sweetheart. He knows he overreacted about the- sex,” Her voice drops, like she’s just said something scandalous, “But the other things - the arrest. The manslaughter?”
“Self-defense,” You say immediately. 
Your Mom swallows. 
“The self-defense. We need to talk about it. You’re still our daughter. Our only daughter. And we’re worried about you.” 
You shoot a look over to the squad car. 
The Sheriff is watching, her eyes pinched. Sam’s watching your Dad, but Tara is looking at you. 
“Babe?” She says from the car, voice soft, “What is it?” 
It isn’t the worst idea in the world. They’re still your parents, after all. You don’t want this - your Dad angry at you. Angry at Tara. You don’t want to ruin your relationship with them if it can be salvaged. 
Your Mom blinks, desperation in her eyes. You soften, pursing your lips. 
“I’m going to go with my parents,” You tell Tara, “My Mom is right. We should talk.” 
Tara sits up. She pries off her seatbelt immediately. 
“I’ll come.” Tara says, climbing out of the car. 
“No.” Your Dad growls from the car. You ignore him. Rub your hands over Tara’s forearms. 
“Babe, it’s fine. You need to go with Sam,” You remind her. You lower your voice, “You need to be in there, make sure she’s okay. Like you said." 
Tara looks at you, conflicted.
“But, babe-” 
“I’ll be fine,” You assure, “I’ll be with my parents. You and Sam can come and pick me up from the house when you’re done.”
“But Ghostface-”
“Isn’t going to attack me in broad daylight,” You say, “Besides. My Dad’s arsenal is almost as big as Sam’s. Remember?” 
Tara looks at your Dad, a little doubtful. 
“She’ll be fine, Tara, I’ll send in a squad car.” Says The Sheriff, looking over the rim of her sunglasses at you, “But if you want to go, I don’t mind talking to Sam alone-” 
Her tone of voice suggests she very much wants Tara to stay with you. Tara picks it up the same moment you do. Her eyes narrow. Sam's an easy target - Richie's girlfriend, perhaps she could even be sold as his partner in crime.
“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” She says, voice a growl. She shimmies out of the backseat and presses a kiss to your lips, “Keep your phone on,” She says, “Text me every five minutes, okay?” 
You nod. 
“Okay, babe.” You assure, offering her a small smile. 
She kisses you once more. 
“And be careful.” 
-
The drive back to your parents house is in silence. 
You sit in the back seat, twiddling your thumbs. Your Mom drives, your Dad stewing in silence. 
When you arrive at the house, it isn’t much better. 
“I’ll make tea,” Says your Mom, hurrying off to the kitchen as you and your Dad settle down on the sofa. His lip twitches, like he has something he wants to say, but you get in first. 
“You owe Tara an apology,” You say, eyes narrowed, “She has a bruise on her arm the size of Iowa-” 
“She’s lucky that’s all she got,” Says your Dad. 
You stare at him for a moment. Then stand. 
“I’m not talking to you if you’re going to be like this,” You say, voice hot. 
Your Dad hesitates. Then puts his arm out to draw you back down. 
“I’m sorry,” He says, and although it’s through gritted teeth, he does sound like he means it, “I shouldn’t have grabbed her. I’ll apologize to her.” 
You blink. 
“Thank you.” 
Your Mom reemerges, cups of hot tea in hand. 
“Darling,” She says, “Please. Sit down.” 
You settle back into your seat, phone buzzing in your hand. It’s Tara. 
In Sheriff’s office with Sam, waiting for her to come back, it reads. 
Then. It buzzes again. 
You ok baby? 
Fine, you message back, Dad said he’s sorry for grabbing u. 
I’ll believe it when I hear it, Tara sends back. 
Your Mom clears her throat. 
“YN,” She says, “Can you put the phone down please? We need to talk.” 
And talk you do. 
Your Dad stays quiet while your Mom outlines her concerns. The plan, the manslaughter. Tara’s arrest. Her concerns are valid. 
Yes, Tara had been arrested for murder. Murders that she had committed. 
Yes, you’d set up a foolhardy plan with Tara’s friends to capture Ghostface. 
And yes, you’d gone into that school knowing you were about to take someone’s life. And done exactly that. 
You watch as your Mother tries to understand. And know there’s nothing you can say to quell her fears. 
“I think we need to get you into therapy.” Says your Mom, chewing her lip, “We should have done it earlier. I’m sorry we didn’t do it earlier.” 
You blink. 
“I don’t want to talk to a shrink,” You argue. 
You don’t want to talk to anyone about this. Talking led to answers, answers that you very much need to keep buried. For your sake, just as much as Tara’s. 
“Please, honey,” Begs your Mom, “You haven’t been coping, that much is obvious.”
“I’m fine,” You say, leaning forward, “As fine as I can be. I know you’re upset about the plan, but Mom- it was the only way. I mean, look what he was doing to us. Dad carries around a shotgun like it’s his wallet, Tara was going out of her mind, and poor Sam is one more attack away from a nervous breakdown-” 
“Exactly why you should talk to someone,” Says your Dad, quietly, “This isn’t normal, YN. Normal eighteen year olds are worried about which colleges they’re going to get into. Not about if they’re going to be attacked in their homes in the middle of the night.” 
He pauses. 
“And it wouldn’t hurt Tara to go, either.” 
Annoyance flares up in your chest. 
“Can you stop going after Tara?” You say, suddenly on edge, “She’s done nothing to you, Dad. All she’s done is protect me, and you’re acting like she’s been abusing me or something-” 
“There’s something not right about her,” Your Dad says. His brows furrow, like there’s something he just can’t quite work out, “YN, she treats you like you belong to her.” 
“I do belong to her,” You say immediately, and then regret it almost instantly. Your Dad’s face contorts in anger. Hurriedly, you walk it back, “I mean, she belongs to me too. I’m her girlfriend. And she’s mine.” 
“Honey.” Your Mom is looking at your Dad, a serious look in her eye. Like she’s trying to warn him off saying the wrong thing. 
You watch his fists ball. 
“Nobody belongs to anyone,” Your Dad says, “You’re not a piece of property. See, this is exactly what I mean. Any shrink worth his weight will tell you the same.” 
“I’m not talking to a shrink,” You say, voice raising, “You can’t make me.” 
Your Dad stands. His voice is like thunder. 
“You’re my child and you’ll do what I say,” He says, familiar vein popping out of his forehead.  
You sink back into your seat, crossing your arms, “I thought I didn’t belong to anyone?” You say, voice flat. 
Your Dad takes a deep breath. The way he usually does before he’s about to launch into a tirade. 
His hand raises, and he points a finger at you. 
And then his face freezes. 
It’s unmistakable. A loud shattering, like a glass has been dropped. Your Mom’s face falls. You blink, head turning to see where it had come from. 
“What was that?” Your Dad says, turning from you, suddenly on guard. 
It had sounded from the kitchen. Butterflies soar within your stomach, but not the good kind. The kind that feel like you’re being eaten from the inside out. 
The back of your neck prickles. And then your heart almost leaps out of your chest as you feel your phone buzzing in your hands. 
It’s Tara. Her pretty smile flashes across the screen. You gulp, silencing your phone with a click of your button. 
“The gun,” Hisses your Mom, “Get the gun.” 
Your Dad fumbles around behind the sofa. He pulls out his shotgun, posies it against his chest. 
“Who’s there?” He calls out, but his voice shakes, “I’m armed. I have a weapon.”
Silence. 
Your Mom grabs you by the arm, pulls you back against the wall. 
“Stay here,” Your Dad says, cocking the shotgun. 
“Dad, don’t-” You hiss, as you grab your phone. It’s buzzing again, Tara’s name flashing across the screen, “I’m going to call the police.” 
But he doesn’t listen. 
He draws closer to the kitchen, step by step. Your Mom’s eyes are wide, fearful, as she clings onto your arm for dear life. 
You press your phone to your ear, answer Tara’s call. 
“Babe-” She says, voice urgent, “Stay where you are, I know who Ghostface is.” 
But you barely hear her. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears, fire flooding through your veins. 
“He’s in the house,” You say, breath caught in the back of your throat, “Tara, he’s here-” 
The crunch of your Dad’s boots against the kitchen tile. You watch as he disappears out of sight. Tears spill wet down your cheeks. Your Mom’s grip on your hand is so hard you feel as if she might pull it clean off. 
“Baby, I’m coming,” Tara says. She’s out of breath, like she’s running, “Sam- drive.”
“Call the police, Tara, please,” You whisper, voice a beg, “Call the police right now.” 
“Stay on the line, babe,” Tara says. You hear the click of the car door, and Sam’s voice. Urgent. Desperate, “We’re coming right now. We figured it out - Ghostface is-” 
But you don’t hear what she says. 
Your Dad disappears into the kitchen for less than a second. Another loud crash sounds, then your Dad cries out. 
The shotgun blasts. 
Your Mom screams. 
Your ears ring as you drop your phone to the floor, the screen smashing instantly. 
“Dad?” You call out, hands shaking as you move your Mom behind you, “Dad, say something. Are you okay?” 
But he doesn’t say a thing. 
Blood pounds through your body. Your mother starts to cry. Adrenaline floods through you. 
And suddenly you know exactly what you need to do. 
“Run.” You tell your Mom. 
Your legs feel like jelly as you sprint through the living room, your Mom close behind. You make it to the foyer, looking behind you wildly in an attempt to see if anyone’s behind you. You press your hand against the handle and attempt to draw it open. 
But it stays firm, locked. 
“It’s the alarm system,” Says your Mother, face thick with tears, “The house is on lockdown, Daddy set it up to go through our phones.” 
“So get your phone out.” You hiss. 
She fumbles around in her pockets and draws out her phone. You watch the hallway. It’s quiet. Eerie. No sign of your Dad, and no sign of anyone else. You eye the living room window, thinking. 
“It won’t unlock,” Your mother says, voice frantic. 
You seize the phone from her hands, fiddle around in the app. UNLOCK is near the center, a bright green button. You press it once. Then twice, but nothing happens. 
As if it’s been overridden. 
“Window,” You mumble, “Mom, get to the window. I’ll break it.” 
It happens in a flash. 
One moment you’re dropping her phone to the floor, in an effort to grab her hand and run. 
And the next, you see him. 
Black cloak. Mask pulled over his face. 
Your Dad’s shotgun in his hands. Blood coated over his gloves, gleaming in the daylight. 
“Run!” You scream out. 
Your Mother sprints. Ghostface raises the weapon, lets out a single shot that rings out heavy into the air. It misses, flies off into the wall behind you. 
“Don’t move.” Says Ghostface, voice contorted, “Move and you die.” 
But you don’t listen. The gun isn’t reloaded - you don’t know much about weapons, but you’ve seen your Dad shoot it before. You tear off, ignoring his angry cry out as you follow your Mom into the living room. 
Your Mom grabs a nearby lamp, flings it wildly at the window. It shatters, almost as loudly as the shotgun. Pieces of broken glass litter the carpet, but it's the least of your worries. 
You leap over the couch, take your Mother’s hand and lead her to the window. 
And then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him again. 
He’s loading pellets into the shotgun, and then, with a quiet click, he raises it once more. 
But he doesn’t point it at you. 
“Mom!” You scream. 
Another blast sounds out. You grip either side of your head, ears ringing painfully at the sound. Your mother screams, and then falls to the floor. 
Blood spills thick and fast onto the carpet. 
You drop down, watch in horror as you catch sight of the wound. It’s gory, bloody, half of her leg blasted clean off. She wails, eyes wide in agony, clutching at her leg as if it will fall off if she lets go. 
“Mom.” You sob. You grip her shoulders, in a feeble attempt to drag her to the window. 
You should run. You should leave her and run. 
But you can’t. 
She’s your Mother. 
And it’s just the distraction Ghostface needs. 
Your Mom looks up at you, mouth open in horror as sees him, looming behind you.  
“YN!” She cries out. 
But you don’t turn in time. 
You feel the hard press as the back of the shotgun slams against your head. 
And then everything turns black. 
-
You feel like you’re floating. 
Over the earth, mind dizzy, like you’ve been launched into space without an oxygen mask. 
There are stars behind your eyes. The back of your head aches, unpleasantly. You can feel something wet against the back of your neck, trickling down underneath your shirt. You groan, move your hand to wipe it away. 
And then you realize your hands are bound behind your back. 
Panic surges through you as you remember your last moments of consciousness. 
Your Dad, walking into the kitchen with a shotgun. The bang of the bullet. 
Your Mom, screaming, writhing in pain on the living room floor, shotgun pellet in her leg. 
Ghostface. 
You open your eyes, chest heaving. 
Everything’s fuzzy, blurred. It hurts to look. The room is dark, save for a single ceiling lamp, flickering as if it’s down to its last few minutes of light. You squint, trying to make out your surroundings. 
You’re in a basement, maybe. It’s dirty, dusty. Unused. Somewhere completely unfamiliar. 
A wave of nausea floods through you. 
Your head pounds. The wetness seeping down onto the back of your neck is blood, you realize all at once. 
Your phone is broken, gone. 
And Ghostface stands in front of you, shimmering dagger in his hands. 
You tug at your restraints, hysteria surging through you. 
Ghostface has taken you somewhere. To his house, maybe. To somewhere the police, and Tara won’t be able to find you. There’s no sign of your mother, or your father. 
It’s quiet. 
The only sounds are the desperate fidgeting of your hands and the heavy noise of his breathing. 
But it’s hopeless. 
Your hands are bound too tight. You have no weapon, and you feel light. Dizzy. Like even if you managed to stand you’d pass out instantly. 
It’s the end, you realize all at once. 
He has you. And this is how you’re going to die. 
You swallow, squint a little harder, ignoring the waves of sickness that flood through you. 
And suddenly you only want to know one thing. 
“Who are you?” You mumble, “Please. Tell me what you want.”  
“Who am I?” Ghostface says. He tilts his head, and you can hear the sneer in his voice. He drops his dagger, then curls his fingers around the edge of the mask. 
It pulls off in one clean swipe. 
Gone is the mystery. The unfamiliarity. 
Your heart drops. 
You’ve seen this face before. Not once or twice. 
You’ve seen this face so many times in the last twenty-four hours. You remember never wanting to see it again. 
But she’s here. 
She has you here. 
Blood streaming down your neck, hands bound so tight your fingertips are starting to lose feeling. 
She stands a little taller, drops her robes and tosses the mask to the floor. 
Blonde hair, wide blue eyes. 
The spitting image of him. 
Sheriff’s badge pressed to her chest. 
And suddenly it all falls into place. 
She leans in, until she’s so close you can see the untamed lunacy in her eyes. She looks wild, deranged as she tilts the blade against your cheek. 
There’s nothing in her eyes but pure, unadulterated hatred. 
And then her lips curls as she spits out:  “I’m the mother of the boy you murdered.”
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