#it’s like my mind and body just want me dead which isn’t fun when you already think about offing yourself every day !!

[14thgalerie]

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

[calware]

Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!

#ask #Anonymous #i say things #homestuck #💾

[oddballwriter]

Personal Nurses

Summary: You get sick with something and need to stay home, and so your lovely boyfriends take up the job of nursing you back to health.

Warnings: Mentions of being sick (sore throat, stuffy nose, and fever). Taking medicine. Half Google translated Spanish, my high school Spanish is really rusty the grammar may be weird. Other wise a nice wholesome sick comfort fic.

Author’s Snip: Fun fact, this was originally going to be a fic where it was about Abi (the reader and system’s daughter that have a bit of an unofficial series with) getting sick. But I decided to make it about the boys taking care of you because I got a nasty cold a while ago and wanted to see this.

Notes: Again, the grammar in Jake’s Spanish speaking might be not so good because my Spanish is rusty as hell.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 692

Being sick wasn’t that great. Sure, it got you out of needing to do things, but you also had to deal with actually being sick. And that’s never great.

You went to bed last night with a tickle in your throat and runny nose that you thought would pass in the morning, but then you woke up dying for water, barely able to breathe through your nose, and now you were burning up like a whore in church.

When Steven eventually woke up and found you in the kitchen you could tell he knew. You made an attempt to brush it off by saying “I’ll just drink some tea and sit under an air conditioner today.” but you could see Steven and the rest of them in that brain vote no on even letting you get out into your work clothes.

So now you get to wallow in bed and have three personal nurses.

Since Steven was the one who woke up with the body, so he was the one who set everything up. He politely shooed you back into bed, placed extra pillows, called your work for you, made you your tea and breakfast, and brought all that to you in bed with a cold rag and medicine. He also checked your temperature which, of course earned an “Oh, love. That’s no good.” that seemed more like him thinking out loud.

Steven was the one mostly in charge of your comfort and doing things for you when you’re sick. If you wanted an extra blanket, you got one. If your fever rag got lukewarm, he made it cool again. Do you want more water or tea? You got it. Is it too bright? He’ll draw the curtains for you. If anything he was more of a bell boy than a nurse. But it still made him blush a little when you called him that.

Marc was the one in charge of making sure you got your medicine in, and he was on top of it. Apparently, when you were taking a nap after eating breakfast, Marc took the body to go to the pharmacy and get new medicine and vitamins because “The one we have isn’t strong enough.” as if he was able to tell just by looking at you. When he came back, he had you eat some bread, saying “So that it doesn’t mess with your stomach if it's empty already.” and also “It helps it stay down. It has something to stick to.”.

“How do you know all this?” you questioned, to which Marc simply said “Trial and error,”, “Now take the vitamins. It helps your immune system fight it off.” Marc orders. You just shrug and comment “Whatever you say, Nurse Spector.”.

Jake was dead set on making food for you, making Marc go to a whole different market while he was out, just to buy ingredients for the soup he wanted to make you.

“Qué no, Marc. No puedes compras los sopas enlatadas.” Jake said to himself with a laugh. “Mind letting me in on the joke?” Marc asked as he watched Jake cut up the ingredients from the reflection in the soup. “You couldn’t buy them canned soup, Marc. Canned soup doesn’t do it. You gotta make it.” Jake explained, clearly referring to the whole ‘make it with love’ thing. “Well, that’s what we would have,” Marc mentioned. “Because that’s all we got.” Jake said back, “But not for them.” he added as to pointed to where you were resting. “They’d do the same for us.” Jake stated confidently.

When the soup was settled and done, and cooled down enough, Jake brought the bowl straight to you in bed. You thought he was going to bring a little table like Steven and Marc did, but it was clear when Jake kept holding the bowl and took up a spoonful of it and held it towards your mouth. You say his name with a scoff and he smiles. “Come on, mi amor. Steven and Marc got to play nurse today.” Jake teased. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him and let him feed you.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • III

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 6.3k

Warnings: Smut 18+ (female!fingering), explicit language, mentions of drinking, mentions of taking pills, mentions of death

Authors note: Chapter Three - A Dreamlike Heathen: this chapter isn’t as long as I hoped but I do hope you enjoy <3 I’m sorry it took so long for me to upload!!! Songs are Dreamlike by Dead By April and Heathens by Aurora! Also I’m sorry for any mistakes I wanted to publish this and it’s not proofread and it’s currently 1am here and I’m so sleepy lol

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! &lt;3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerants @veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @melinacchss-blog @cncohshit @thescarlettvvitch @scrumptiousfestivalpost

“Fuck Noah,” She whispered, panting as she threw her head back into the mirror, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

“Oh my god don’t stop.” She moaned, and I obliged, giving her everything I could.

“Come Y/N,” I said between sucking, and squeezing her hips, “be a good girl for me.”

Her legs began to vibrate, her mouth open, sound unable to escape as she shook through her orgasm. I didn’t stop until she physically pushed me away, shallow breaths leaving her lips.

I grabbed her chin, pulling her lips to mine, begging her to taste herself from my tongue.

“Life had broken her; just as it had broken him. But when they got together, their pieces became whole. And they started on their journey, together, mended as one.” - Steve Maraboli

+++++

Noah

Twenty fucking thousand dollars. Twenty.

My mind kept racing over two things. The fact I had to somehow come up with all this money myself; and the fact I slept with Y/N last night. I sat on the cot in our motel room the next morning, head in my hands as my leg bounced nervously.

“I-I should go,” Y/N hopped off the counter, wiping my release off of her stomach before readjusting her shorts.

“wait-” I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back toward my drunken state, “can I see you again?”

She gave me a wry smile, “I’d like that.” She tugged from my grasp but I held her tighter, pulling her into my arms.

My body remained swaying, the euphoria and alcohol mixed, “do you regret what just happened?”

I wasn’t sure if this question was for me, or her.

“No,” She said, her fingertips running up the skin of my neck. She fit against my body perfectly, as if she was always meant to be there.

I had left the bar with the boys minutes after fucking Y/N’s brains out, stealing lingering glances at her figure behind the counter before parting. Even though I was drunk, I couldn’t believe it happened… but I needed a release, a bit of euphoria to ride out through dealing with the crushing news D gave us.

Twenty thousand.

I looked at the anklet D put on me, the green dot blinking periodically. I couldn’t believe the fucking bastard was tracking our every move. He’d followed us for years, but this was next level.

I also had no idea how to get that much money by myself. The boys and I alternated job’s each night for our sanity, but the fact I had to keep a journal and record each place I got the money from, and then submit it to one of D’s bitches so he could ensure only I was doing the work, was ridiculous.

Twenty thousand this month would mean I’d need to get approximately 645 dollars a day since there were 31 days this month. Which realistically didn’t seem too bad once broken down; but some days I could bring in thousands, others, absolutely nothing at all. At least my final day of owing will be a fantastic birthday present to me.

I groaned, flopping back into the mattress on the floor, my thoughts overwhelming. Everything has led up to this moment, and I was still completely fucked.

Jolly sat on his bed, strumming away on his old acoustic guitar that was barely holding onto the strings. With his hands dancing along the neck, I closed my eyes to the rhythm he created, fingers tapping along the beat.

I began humming, words spiralling out of my mouth subconsciously, “I’ve seen the devil, more than I’ve seen god.”

Jolly gave me a slight snicker, continuing to strum, “I like that.”

“I see through you, I know what you are.”

I repeated the two phrases over and over, singing lowly as I continued to drum my fingers. Hmm. I checked the time on my phone briefly, realizing it was 4:30 pm.

I sat up, grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Jolly asked.

“To see Y/N.”

“Why?” Jolly stopped playing, placing the guitar across the bedsheets.

It's been twenty long years I've cried, but not enough tears I've become the sum of all my fears (I feel scared, so scared)

I stared at him blankly, the cogs within my mind turning to find an answer themselves. Why was I going to see her? Why did I care that I made it for when she got off work at the cafe? Something about her was magnetizing, and I couldn’t help but crave more. I wanted to explore her mind and body; to know her in every way possible.

I don’t have time to think of someone like her; I don’t deserve to think of someone like her.

I have a job to do.

But I don’t care.

“I don’t know,” I turned to look at him with my hand on the doorknob.

Jolly’s eyes watched back quizzically, “I think you should leave her out of this. Break it off now.”

I furrowed my brows, “There’s nothing to break off.”

Jolly gave me a curt laugh, “Yea, which is why you fucked in the bathroom yesterday. Nothing to break off.”

My face warmed, unsure of how he knew. I didn’t think it was obvious.

“She seems like a nice girl. You wouldn’t want to get her killed,” Jolly warned. He wasn’t wrong. This line of business wasn’t exactly safe, and I knew I shouldn’t get Y/N involved.

“She already knows too much,” I said, avoiding his eyes as I stared at the floor.

“Det är inte riktigt rätt möblerat på övervåningen hos dig.” Jolly groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palm. Your top floor is not properly furnished (Mind is a mess).

I rolled my eyes, “Oh don’t bring out the Swedish insults you asshat.”

“Well, I suggest you break her heart now before it’s too late.”

I bit my lip as I opened the door, ignoring his burning words.

“Din jävla fubbick,” I heard the swede mutter before I shut the door. You damn moron.

Guilt washed over my body as I took long strides through the motel parking lot, my mind spiralling and my palms sweating. What am I doing?

Jolly was right; Y/N shouldn’t be mixed up in this; but part of me yearned for her. I haven’t had someone willing to listen to my thoughts for years. I’ve never had anyone else to relate to other than my brothers.

I wanted to share everything about me and learn everything about her, and she felt safe to do so. She was also wildly gorgeous; her e/c eyes glimmered with so much hope, something I aspired to have one day. Maybe I could even share with her. Hope.

You gave me a strength unparalleled But nothing compared to how much I've bled (I feel scared, so scared)

+++++

Y/N

He hasn’t shown up for his coffee again today. Did he regret what happened last night?

I swept between the tables and recalled the previous events. I don’t even know what came over me yesterday, but I do know that I didn’t have any regrets.

I knew my face began to warm as I recalled the way Noah’s fingers dug into my hips, gripping onto me as he pounded into me mercilessly; drowning his sorrows through the pleasure of our bodies.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he stared into me, aching with fervour and hunger, begging me to give everything to him.

I wanna know what it feels like Is it nothing but dreamlike? I wanna touch you now

It was anything but romantic- having a quick fuck in the bathroom of a bar, but I longed for Noah even more after that.

I feel like I’m going crazy. How could he have such a hold over me, especially after finding out he is a criminal? I should be running; so why can’t I let him go?

Lust? Infatuation? Whatever it is, I crave him.

I pushed away my thoughts, finishing the rest of my closing tasks and clocking out. I waved to Annika as I pulled my hoodie over my head, grabbing my bag and de-tangling my earbuds.

As I walked out the door a hand immediately grabbed my own, pulling me towards them. A light squeal of surprise left my lips as he pulled me into his body, giving me a side hug.

“Noah?” I looked up to see a small smile dancing across the man’s lips as he towered over me. My eyes travelled across his neck tattoo, marvelling at its glory before trailing across his face in awe, my heart hammering once again.

His dancing eyes smiled as he wrapped his other arm around me, embracing me fully. I couldn’t help but grin as my face smushed into his chest, inhaling his scent; instantly comforted.

How can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

“You came,” I said, surprising myself. The way Noah’s cage felt immensely protective and serene as he embedded me into his chest, left my pulse pounding with elation.

“I wanted to be here for when you got off work,” He said, squeezing me gently before letting go. “Do you want to do something before your next shift?”

I gave him a cheeky grin, “Something?”

Noah licked his lips before matching my smile, putting his finger through the belt loop of my jeans, and tugging me along beside him as we walked down the sidewalk. I flushed at the gesture as he held me next to him as if claiming me for his own.

“I meant like, dinner,” He hummed, “but I also can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“Come Y/N,” he had said between sucking and squeezing my hips, “be a good girl for me.”

A shudder ran down my spine as my mind wandered, and I peered up at Noah, his cheeks flushing through his confession.

“Me too,” I said softly, “Did you want to come back to my place? We could order takeout… because I need to get my clothes for my next shift.”

“I’d like that,” Noah peered down at me warmly.

We walked together in silence, the only sound the bustle of life that surrounded the sidewalk as we passed various shops, heading towards my neighbourhood. For “level two acquaintances” the silence between the two of us was soothing, something that I think shocked us both.

Noah let go of my belt loop, shoving his hands inside of his pockets. I looked over at him, his expression filled with thought and worry, something eating him alive.

“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked gently, looking ahead as the light breeze slid past my cheeks.

Noah was quiet, eyes darting back and forth, “I trust you so much, and I don’t know why.”

I nodded, agreeing with his concern silently, letting him continue.

“and I don’t know who else to talk to about this with…my brothers are too involved and have enough opinions as it is,” Noah said, following me down the path that led us towards my house.

“Remember how I told you we owe a lot of money to this… guy? Well, this month is supposed to be our last month, and then we are finally free.”

I smiled widely, grabbing Noah’s arm in excitement, shaking him gently, “That’s great news! You’ll be done with it forever!”

Noah chuckled darkly, rolling his head to the side in annoyance, “Yeah, well, there’s a catch.”

My grip on his arm fell, a sullen expression taking over my joy.

“I have to get him twenty thousand, myself. The boys can’t help me.”

“Twenty thousand?” I exclaimed, stopping in my tracks to look at him, “That’s a shit ton of money.”

Noah’s hand ran across his face in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know. I am beyond fucked.”

I blinked a few times in disbelief as we approached the steps to my house, the greeting of Juice’s trill on the other side of the door inviting us in. Noah was immediately bombarded with cat love and he gave the furry animal a small smile, bending down to scratch the top of his head before running his fingers down Juice’s back.

Closing the door I kicked off my sneakers, hanging my bag on the coat rack. Noah followed, placing his black vans politely by the front door; which was when I noticed a small anklet blinking beneath the hem of his pants.

I stared at it quizzically, and Noah caught my gaze. He lifted his leg, mouth forming a tight line.

“Like my new accessory?” Anger seethed from his tongue as he gave me a sarcastic smile, before standing in front of me, completely defeated.

I led us upstairs into my bedroom, “What is it?”

“A tracker.”

I stopped at the top, turning around to look at him, “What do you mean a tracker?” I watched his ankle with cautious eyes, flickering between Noah and the device.

He sighed heavily as I turned back around, opening my bedroom door. Noah immediately flopped onto my bed, inviting himself to lay on his back as he spread his limbs out, “The guy’s name is D, the one we owe. He said that to make sure I wasn’t getting the boys’ help with the money, we all need to wear these fucking trackers. I also need to keep a log of where the money comes from so it matches up with my location, and deposit it each week.”

“And this all happened last night?”

He nodded, and I watched as Noah’s eyes squeezed shut in frustration, tears pricking them. I stood next to the bed, watching for a moment as his chest heaved, crumbling before me. I then crawled next to him, sitting up as he rolled over. He placed his head onto my lap, holding himself against my thighs as silent tears cascaded down his cheeks.

“I…I’m barely holding on,” He whispered.

My fingers began running through Noah’s scalp, lacing themselves through his chestnut strands in an attempt to soothe him, showing my support. I hear you.

My heart yearned for him once again, filled with sorrow and pain as he suffered in torment, dealing with the burden of his demons. Noah didn’t deserve this. He was young when he fucked up, and he hasn’t been able to escape. I saw myself within his pain, my past mirroring back at me.

“I just keep hoping that one day I’ll have something else motivating me- something more than fear, more than spite. I wanna feel like I’m living.”

I listened to Noah’s words as they resonated with me. I too, wanted to feel like I was living.

I had never been part of the right crowd, and I was always getting into trouble, due to the influence of my previous relationships. I followed their shenanigans because I had nobody else to model- and I made some poor choices. I chose to follow them.

However, I also chose to leave- to start fresh and to forget about my past. People can change, and people can grow, and Noah deserved the same opportunity. He was being puppeteered by an evil man; and I wanted to help him escape, as much as he wanted his freedom.

I chewed my cheek in contemplation, fingers still stroking his hair, “let me help you, Noah.”

“Help with what?”

“The money. You don’t deserve to do it alone.”

Noah sat up now, watching me intensely from across the bed, “You’ve built yourself a new life Y/N. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He was right. Why was I willing to risk it all?

“I’ve been willing to fuck it up the second I saw you at the cafe,” I traced his face, analyzing his expression before my mind wandered to an idea; one so insane I couldn't even believe I was about to suggest this.

“I’m going to sound crazy, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” I hesitated for a moment, sucking in a breath between my teeth, “but why don't you come live with me? You and your brothers?”

Noah’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly in perplexity. He blinked a few times, and I continued my thought.

“You won’t need to pay rent or anything, so you guys can save money to pay this D guy faster. The motel money probably adds up.”

Noah slid off the bed, standing up abruptly, folding his arms over his body in defence, “You cannot be serious,” he laughed with incredulity.

“Listen, Noah,” I scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, “I was stuck for a long time, and I didn’t have a helping hand… but I have enough to offer you. I know what it’s like to struggle.”

Noah’s fingers ran through his hair as he began pacing, shaking his head, “I don’t need your pity Y/N.”

“This isn’t pity, I swear,” I stood up, approaching Noah gently, holding both of his biceps to keep him in place from his anxious wading, “I wished someone had helped me when I needed it.”

He stared down at me in complete disbelief, his eyes scanning mine for any signs of doubt; but I remained confident in my suggestion, staring at him assuringly.

“so let me help you,” I whispered, reaching up to place a gentle hand on his cheek. With a racing heart, I rubbed my thumb across his skin, bewildered at my words.

He closed his eyes in conflict and placed a hand on top of my own, clammy and nervous.

“Why are you helping a monster?” Noah breathed, leaning into my touch, curious eyes observing me.

“Everyone deserves help. You deserve it.”

What are we allowed to do? What are we allowed to be?

“You’re not a monster Noah,” placing a hand on his other cheek, I stood on my tiptoes, pulling him down towards me, kissing the tip of his nose delicately.

I wanna cross the line with you Let's pass the point of no return

Noah watched me with pure awe, matching me by grabbing either side of my face, and placing his forehead on my own, “You are fucking crazy.”

Is this wrong? I don't wanna know A big mistake? I don't wanna know

I chuckled softly, “I completely agree with you, I think I am insane for offering this.”

I wanna know what it feels like Is it nothing but dreamlike? I wanna touch you now

Noah laughed quietly with me, still in complete doubt. His eyes kept trailing between my own and my lips, as if trying not to kiss me, before giving in.

How can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

Noah’s lips kissed me tenderly as he held my face, and I melted into his touch. With each greeting of our lips, the kiss became harder and deeper, the emotion transferring from him to me; radiating between us.

We remained standing, holding each other intimately for a few more moments before Noah pulled away. He rested his forehead against mine once again, brushing his thumb across my lips as his eyes peered into mine longingly.

“I’m sorry, not sorry for breaking into your house; because otherwise, we wouldn’t be here,” Noah said.

“I forgive you, clearly,” I laughed, “but you could always try to make it up to me again if you feel like it?”

Noah let out a puff of air, hands running down my neck along my curves, resting at the top of my hips, “I like that idea.”

I grinned at him, my hands resting at the back of his tattooed neck, the apple and snake teasing me.

Noah leaned towards my ear, warm breath tickling my skin, “I’m craving the way you taste- and I’ve only tasted you once.”

I hummed as he kissed me hungrily again, letting out a sigh of relief. Our heads tilted slowly as they switched from left to right, sharing open-mouth kisses, and devouring each other.

Noah rubbed his hips into my own, a soft moan trailing from my throat. As much as I wanted to continue, I knew I had to go to work soon.

I pushed his chest gently, “It’s already 6… I need to leave for work in half an hour.”

Noah gave me a sly smile, “You underestimating my skills?”

I chuckled, “Not at all.”

“I bet I could make you come in two minutes,” His fingers trailed up the sides of my torso, fingers tracing circles across the skin.

I hummed, “what do I get if you can’t?”

Noah leaned towards my ear, fingers squeezing right below my chest, “then I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, and you’ll come again.”

My body shivered from his words, and my stomach began to swirl with excitement as Noah’s hands worshiped my body, whispering lustful promises as he peppered kisses down my neck. Noah peeked over at the clock on my nightstand briefly.

“6:04.”

My eyes fluttered shut as the pace of my breathing picked up, Noah leading us towards the wall. My back hit the surface as he pushed his body against mine, heat radiating off of him.

Noah’s hand gripped my wrists as he lifted them above my head, holding me captive as his other trailed down my waistline toward my desire.

I succumbed to Noah’s touch as his touch slid through me, circling and prodding. Whatever he was doing left me completely giving in to his caress; the fact both of us were still completely clothed made this moment that much more invigorating.

Noah’s teeth hooked on my bottom lip as he ravaged my mouth. I moaned earnestly as his fingers sank through my slick, curling towards my need. His palm pushed against me, rubbing and maintaining a repetitive pattern, and my legs began to give out. How he could make me surrender with his hand alone had me flustered.

(I'm in a) (I'm in a) (I'm in a) I'm in a, I'm in a dreamlike state

I rutted my hips towards his touch and Noah smiled into my lips, “so needy,” he mumbled.

I sighed eagerly as he continued his method, my body trembling in response, close to my release.

“C’mon princess, you can do it,” Noah muttered, trailing his lips down my neck towards my collarbone, before snagging his teeth on a sensitive spot. He sucked and nibbled at my skin, branding me.

I didn’t even care, exhilaration taking over.

Noah slipped his fingers out, sliding them up until he reached the top, pressing the pad of his fingers and circling them quickly. I shuddered, my body crumbling as I cried out his name.

Can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

Noah smiled into me again as his head lay pressed against my neck, satisfied and prideful of his actions.

My chest heaved as I came down from the high, folding off of the wall into his arms. I clutched onto his sweater for support, turning my head to the clock. 6:08

“That was four minutes,” I panted.

“Looks like I owe you,” Noah’s smug smile said it all.

I chuckled, looking up at him, eyes dilated with satisfaction “Oh, what a shame.”

Noah grinned, the whites of his teeth making my heart flutter. He sat on my bed, adjusting himself in his pants before watching me pace around my room, picking out my work clothes.

I opted for leggings and a tight square-cut long sleeve. I took the clothes out of my closet, holding them to my chest before turning around.

“Uh…” I looked at the brunette, his hair cascading down his face perfectly, “Do you uhm, can you turn around?”

Noah choked out a laugh, “huh? you do realize that I’ve seen you like, partially naked? And literally just touched you?”

My face flushed, “Yeah… but still.”

Noah chuckled, obliging as he turned around on the bed to face the wall. I began stripping, pulling my leggings up before changing my shirt. I peered at Noah, noticing his head whip back around.

“Hey!” I laughed, “No peaking!”

Noah turned around once I was dressed, sticking his tongue out playfully, “Whatever do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes as Noah stood up, scratching the back of his neck, “I’d say we’ve at least levelled up to buddies.”

Yea, fuck buddies.

I hummed, “I agree, definitely more than level-two acquaintances.”

Noah nodded at me with a lighthearted glare, “Friends would be going too far right now though.”

“Definitely,” I mimicked his expression before leading us down the stairs. I peered in the mirror that was hung on the wall next to the door, eyes glancing at the hickey forming on the side of my neck. Fuck. Nothing I can do about that now.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat,” I said, “but if you want, you could come to the bar?”

“I’d like that,” Noah bent down to slip on his vans as I put on my black Converse.

I chewed my lip, “Did you want to invite your friends? Maybe talk about the offer?”

Noah stood up, frowning, “Y/N- I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, at least ask them, see what they say,” I looked at him with a serious expression, “I wasn’t kidding with the offer. I have the basement finished but unfurnished; and a spare bedroom upstairs. You guys would have your own space.”

Noah stared at the floor, kicking up the side of the carpet nervously, “I mean I’ll talk to them.”

I couldn’t help but smile widely, “Please do. Now lets go or I’ll be late.”

+++++

NOAH

Ruffilo, Jolly, Folio and I sat in a booth at Sammy’s, the three of them watching me curiously as I explained the situation.

“She offered us a place to stay for free,” I peeked over at Y/N, stealing a glance as she catered to a few customers. Her H/C hair fell so delicately around her eyes, and my heart fluttered at how genuine and beautiful her smile was as she poured the drink for the woman in front of her. She lit up the room around her, her energy charismatic and incandescent.

“No fucking way we are doing that,” Jolly said, glancing at Y/N briefly before folding his arms, sinking into the leather of the booth.

“I mean,” Nick began, looking between us, “This would help us out a lot Jolly.”

“-and Noah,” Nicholas said, “Like we pay roughly 130 bucks a night. That’s $3,900 we’d save him right there.”

All of us peered over at Y/N, and she lifted her head, giving us all a smile.

“Why would she do that for you? For us? What’s in it for her?” Jolly said, skeptical.

I had no fucking idea why she would, but I was desperate for any amount of help I could get.

I shrugged, “I don’t know.”

She was selfless, enigmatic, and completely sublime.

“How long have you known her?” Nick raised a brow, plucking a fry from the plate in the middle of us.

I winced, “Er, two days?”

Folio’s eyes bulged out of his head as he leaned forward, chest pressed into the table, “Ain’t no fucking way this is real. She has to be getting something out of it.”

Jolly snorted, “yea, his dick.”

I scoffed, rolling my head back dramatically, “Oh fuck off !”

“That giant ass hickey proves it-”

“Oh, can it Jolly, have any of you ever thought that maybe Y/N is just a nice person?” Nicholas defended.

I grabbed a fry, dipping it in some ketchup before taking a bite, “people like us don’t deserve nice people.”

Ruffilo looked at me disappointedly, “Don’t say that. We’ve done some fucked up shit, but how else have we been able to get by?”

“Plus, we can’t help with the money. D doesn’t know Y/N exists, so he wouldn’t suspect the help.” Nick said, and Nicholas nodded in agreement.

I watched the three of them as they gave me a sullen smile, “I’m worried D will be suspicious that our locations will move though; and that it will put her in danger.”

“She must know there’s a risk, considering you filled her in on everything,” Nick took a sip of his beer.

“Why she’s willing to risk everything she’s worked towards beats me,” I said, sighing heavily.

“Worked towards?” Nicholas asked.

The boys waited for me to answer.

She bargains with the world So everything she wants will come to her With no greed inside her mind She knows what she deserves

“She’s been through some fucked up shit I guess, but she saved a bunch of money and moved here to start over her life. She works two jobs almost every day to afford everything,” I looked back at Y/N for a prolonged period, my heart beating quickly, “She just kept telling me she knows what it’s like, and she wished people helped her.”

“So pity?” Jolly gave me a sarcastic smile, nodding rapidly.

“No,” I defended, “she’s just a generous person.”

We remained silent, chewing our food quietly before Jolly spoke.

“Well, I suppose it’s worth a shot,” He said, eying the fries before staring at me, “for Noah.”

“Yeah, but also you guys. She offered it to all of us,” I said.

Nicholas looked over at her warmly, “That’s kind of her. Really kind.”

We fell from sky with grace And landed in her soft and warm embrace She gave her love, her gift of life So we could live with her

I stood up, walking towards the bar, sitting on a stool in front of her. She nodded to another customer before smiling at me, waltzing over.

“So?” She bit her lip, almost looking hopeful.

I picked at the resin counter, my nail grinding within a divot in the material as I distracted myself from her, “How early can we move in?”

“Tonight if you want.”

Y/N and I shared a look before I nodded, giving a gentle laugh, “Okay. Want to meet your new roommates? Considering you haven’t even met the guys you offered your entire life to.”

Y/N laughed, “yea. I’m realizing how crazy I sound the more realistic this becomes.”

I motioned for the boys to come over and they did, each with a beer in their hand, sitting on either side of me along the counter.

Y/N gave them a sunny grin, introducing herself.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Nicholas said politely.

“You as well,” she nodded, before looking at Folio.

“I’m Nick, Nick folio,” He held out his hand, wrapping around her own and shaking.

She then moved to Jolly, who gave her a curt smile. Although he was stand-off-ish, she greeted him warmly.

“Joakim, but call me Jolly,”

“So, tonight?” I eyed everyone, who all turned to look at Y/N.

She shrugged, “I’m off at midnight. I can help take stuff over.”

“Well, we don’t exactly have a lot. We can probably take everything in two trips,” Nick said.

“I can help, I’ll meet you guys at the motel.”

+++++

We packed everything into our backpacks and suitcases, and my chest tightened at the realization we would be leaving our ‘home’ of the last few years.

“This is crazy,” Nick shook his head as he played Tetris with our belongings, organizing them within our van.

“You gotta admit,” Nicholas began as he carried out the old guitars with Jolly, “It will be nice to be in an actual house for a while.”

“Good point,” Jolly mumbled, “But I’m still suspicious.”

That is why we live like heathens Stealing from the trees of Eden

Y/N made it over around 12:30, and we packed her car full as well; not that there was much room considering how small it is.

All of us stood outside the motel, part of us grieving for departing what we’ve always known; the other relishing in gratitude for this new opportunity.

Y/N placed a hand on my shoulder as I stared at the motel door plaintively.

Living in the arms of freedom And everything we touch is evil That is why we live like heathens

I gave her a sorrowful smile before nodding at my brothers, “Y/N will lead the way.”

I sat in the passenger seat of Y/N’s car, staring out the window as we drove past the buildings towards her neighbourhood; our new home.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. This woman was a complete gift, the strings of fate leaving me confounded yet wonderstruck.

Once we arrived and went inside, Juice greeted the boys, and each of them immediately fell in love with the orange fur ball. Y/N toured everyone around before leading us down to the basement. As Y/N mentioned it was unfurnished, but had a full bathroom. The only items around were a rack of guitars in pristine condition and a few cardboard boxes.

“Holy shit- is that a Martin D-41?” Jolly immediately smiled, walking over to assess the guitars, “and an Ernie Ball Music Man John Petrucci Majesty?”

“Damn, and a Gibson Thunderbird IV Bass?” Ruffilo joined in on the geek-sesh, both of them giddy.

Y/N laughed, “Wow, you must know your stuff. Those were my dads, he was really into music.”

She walked over, grazing her fingers across the strings, “I’ve kept them in his memory, but I have no idea how to play.”

I watched her as she picked up the Martin, handing it to Jolly, “feel free to use them whenever you want; they deserve some love, they were made to be played.”

Jolly’s lips fell open before he smiled warmly, gazing at the guitar, “You’re so fucking cool.”

We all chuckled and I watched Y/N in awe as she interacted with my brothers, taking them in and treating them as if she’d known us all for years.

The stone, the dirt, the dust The unforgiving promise made to us Unworthy of your light, your god, your touch We're guided by the lust

“I only have one blow-up mattress I take camping, but there is a bed in the spare room, and the couch in the living room…” She looked between the four of us until her eyes landed on me.

“Uh,” Her cheeks flushed as she spoke, “we can always share my bed tonight until I can pick up a couple of mattresses…”

We cry the fallen names We cry for those who burned beneath the flame We stand besides the good and brave The broken and enslaved

My face warmed along with her and I coughed, straightening up, “Yeah, no worries.”

The boys watched us, a low chuckle leaving Folio. Y/N grabbed spare blankets, pillows and the blow-up mattress from the closet. She set up the bed, which Jolly dibsed. Nick took the couch, and Nicholas took the spare room down the hall from Y/N’s.

Y/N and I went into her room and she shut the door quietly, turning around, sighing.

“Well,” she blew out a puff of air, giving me a kind smile, “this is interesting.”

I nodded, following her with my eyes as she began getting ready for bed, brushing her H/C hair, and wiping off her makeup for the day. I admired her beauty, staring at her with reverence. She was brilliant.

“I-I can sleep on the floor Y/N. I don’t mind,” I whispered as she slid an oversized t-shirt over her frame, stripping off her work attire.

I licked my lips, swallowing harshly before averting my eyes, reminding myself that now was not the time to get worked up. She had to be at the cafe in a few hours.

Juice purred as he curled into a bed next to her windowsill, eying us from the corner.

Y/N turned off her main light, flicking on a dim lamp that cascaded a soft orange aura across the room before she crawled into bed, opening the covers and patting next to her.

“You can sleep with me, it’s okay.”

I shifted on my feet nervously, tossing my hoodie over my head and placing it neatly over the chair of her vanity, along with my jeans.

Hours ago I was pinning her against the wall, devouring her body in complete confidence. Why was I suddenly so shy? Why did this feel so much more intimate than sex?

Her love is yours But only if you give your heart to her

I walked over to her, sliding myself between her covers as I lay as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” She mumbled, jumping out of bed and leaving to the bathroom, returning shortly with a bottle of pills and a cup of water.

She opened the bottle, turned around and placed one on her tongue before taking a swig of water. I watched as she placed her pills on her desk, before hopping back into bed.

That is why we live like heathens Stealing from the trees of Eden Living in the arms of freedom And everything we touch is evil

She crawled underneath the covers, snuggling into the duvet as she lay on her side, facing me.

We remained silent for a few moments before she asked me a question in a small voice, “Is it ok if the light stays on?”

I preferred the lights off, but I wasn’t going to share my preference; I was already invading her space.

“I have trouble sleeping,” She whispered vulnerably.

“Of course,” I said, pulling the covers over my shoulders.

“Okay,” her eyes fluttered open and closed, fighting against sleep, “goodnight Noah.”

I watched as her lashes touched the tops of her cheeks, her eyebrows releasing tension from the day, lips parted gently as sleep took over.

My eyes danced across her features, completely captivated. Y/N breathed slowly, and my hand subconsciously reached over, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear as I endeared over her.

“you’re my saving grace,” I whispered as I stroked her hair, still completely baffled this was all happening.

I watched her for a moment longer before I turned over, facing the door and her desk. My eyes trailed over to the bottle that rested on her desk, the yellow plastic alluring. Zolpidem. 700 dollars right there.

Destruction. Crime. Greed.

That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens

Chapter four

#burning out fanfic #smut #bad omens #bad omens cult #joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #metal #noah sebastian x reader #Nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo #Noah Sebastian #Noah Sebastian smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fic

[ghostchems]

More getting stoned with Terzo please

He's just so funny and it's so cozy whenever I read them.

You settle your head on Terzo’s chest, trying to get comfortable in the new position, letting your legs dangle off the side of your bed. The idea of you being this close to him would have felt like a pipe dream not long ago, but the two of you bonded quickly over a shared interest - getting high and acting dumb. A joint hangs out of his mouth as he runs his fingers lazily through your hair, his mismatched gaze miles away. His touch is intimate, making your eyelashes flutter and you struggle with your breath. Somehow he could always make you melt. There’s a faint smell of vanilla in your nostrils, the wood-wicked candle burning on your nightstand to give the illusion of helping mask the smell.

“Hey, hey — “ He uses his large hand to gently grab the top of your head and lift it up so you’re able to look at his handsome face. Terzo’s hair is perfectly disheveled, a few loose strands brushing his forehead, and he gives you a lop-sided grin, some of his paint smudged off his lips. “No wandering of the mind, tesoro. You are only allowed to focus on me, si? Isn’t that what you asked for?” His accent is much stronger while high, rolling some of his r’s and being extra dramatic about it. He’s starting trouble, just like he always does. Terzo is always one to poke fun, whether it be as Papa or in a less formal capacity, but none of the siblings ever raise hell back. Except for you but only when you’re high.

“What I asked?” You snort and lift yourself from his chest, sitting up and looking at him over your shoulder. “You came here because you specifically wanted my attention.” An elbow pokes into his ribs and he squeaks before lunging for you, his strong arms curling around you, capturing you in his grasp. You fight back valiantly and squirm in his arms until he starts to giggle and loosens his grip. He leans his body weight on you, arms draped across your shoulders and his nose pressed against your neck.

“Shhh, let me pretend.” Terzo mumbles into the crook of your neck and then blows a raspberry into it. You scream and try to fling yourself away from him only for him to come with you. He lands on top of you in a heap, his body completely dead weight which would be incredibly annoying if it were anyone else. You give a theatrical groan beneath him and manage to shove him partly off of you so that you can breathe more comfortably. “You like it, amore. I know you do. See? You are blushing, eh?” A hand snakes up to your cheek, brushing it lightly with his thumb as he lifts his head to look at you with puppy dog eyes. You sigh and then leaf your fingers through his impossibly smooth hair, brushing the loose strands out of his face.

“Maybe just a little bit.”

send me a drabble request here!

#terzo #papa emeritus iii #drabble request #terzo drabble

[mrsshabana]

Canon!Gyutaro x Modern!Reader

♥ CW: Female reader. Pure fluff!

♥ AN: Thank you again for 300 followers! I am posting this in celebration of this milestone. I wrote this months ago, just for fun. And it has been sitting in my drafts ever since. I think the theme is very fitting. And if you all like it, I wouldn't mind making a part two some day!

♥ WC: 1,117

I wonder if Mrs.Shabana posted anything new today?

You think to yourself, pulling out your cellphone as you walk down a dank alleyway. Checking tumblr has become a daily ritual for you ever since your obsession began. Gyutaro from Demon Slayer. Something about him just called out to you, he made his way into your mind and never went away. Slowly spreading until the fictional character consumed every one of your thoughts. You just wish that he was real…

With a sigh, you continue walking. Having just gotten off a long shift, you’re excited to get home and go to sleep. Not before reading a fanfic or two first of course.

As you continue down the alley you stop for a moment, “Yes!” Gyusimp just posted a new oneshot. You’re too excited to wait, so you decide to read and walk at the same time.

So distracted by your phone, that you don’t realize something is stalking you. Something that wastes no time in pinning you to the ground, flipping you over so it can slit your neck with its weapon.

Something you thought was impossible.

“Gyutaro?!” You squeal with a mixture of excitement, shock, and fear.

He’s straddling you with his sickle held up to your neck. Hearing his name come out of your mouth, his eyes widen. Stumbling off of you as you take in his appearance with awe. He looks exactly as he does in the anime, handsome and sexy as all hell.

“You… you’re Gyutaro!” you pinch yourself to make sure that you aren’t dreaming. Even though you are sure that your mental state has finally broken and your obsession is warping your perception of reality, you don’t care because Gyutaro Shabana is sitting right in front of you!

Knowing everything that you do, you should be deathly afraid of him. But your corrupted love for the man blinds you. Crawling forward to get a closer look at him.

When he opens his mouth to ask you a question, you have no idea what he’s trying to say. 

He’s speaking in Japanese.

Oh fuck, this isn’t good. You somehow get the opportunity to meet the love of your life and here you are unable to understand each other. At least his name is universal, which is probably the reason why you aren’t dead right now. 

“Um hold on…” you quickly pull out your phone to use a translator. Typing in what you want to say and letting it speak to him.

You type, “Please don’t kill me, I know who you are.”

Gyutaro cocks his head to the side and frowns, asking you another question in an irritated tone.

“I can’t speak Japanese,” your phone relays your message to him. He starts to scratch his skin but his expression softens a bit. You don’t know what you should do with him, if this is really happening then how the hell did he get here? Who knows, but you love this man so you’re gonna do everything you can to help him out.

“Follow me. I will take you to my home where it is safe.”

You hope that he’ll follow you. Not knowing what his current situation is, maybe he already has a safe place to stay? You assume that he doesn’t, as he begins following you.

You aren’t too far from your apartment, looking back every minute or so to make sure Gyutaro is still there. He follows from a distance, unsure if he can even trust you. You could be a demon slayer for all he knows.

You open the door to your apartment, and he hesitantly follows you inside. Once he’s in, you quickly run around to hide all of the Gyutaro merch you have. It’d be so awkward if he saw the body pillow…

Once everything has been shoved into your closet you bring out the translator again. You want to ask him so many questions but how will you even be able to understand his responses? You have an idea. On your translator app there’s an option for it to listen and translate the spoken words. So maybe you could go back and forth that way.

“This device will let us communicate with each other. Speak into it” you speak into your phone, it spits out your statement in Japanese.

Gyutaro opens his mouth to respond, and you hold the phone in front of him to speak into. 

He speaks in Japanese and after a few seconds your phone gives you a translation, “Who are you and how do you know me?”

“My name is Y/N. I know you from a TV show.”

Gyutaro furrows his brows, “I do not understand what it means…”

The translation isn’t perfect, but it gets the point across. So if he doesn’t know what TV is, then does that mean he’s actually from the past? From the exact same universe as demon slayer? You try to say things in a way that he might be able to understand.

“A lot of people here know you. I like you a lot, so I want to help you.”

Your words seem to be making him even more confused, so you decide to just get to the important questions.

“How did you get here? Do you know where you are?”

Gyutaro shakes his head, opening his mouth to respond but then deciding against it. There’s something that he seems like he doesn’t want to tell you, “Do not know…”

“You aren’t in Japan anymore and it’s the future. You need to be careful here,” you respond to him.

“Can not understand. I have to find my sister.”

“Daki?” you say directly to him. Hearing her name come out of your mouth his eyes widen and he nods.

“I can try to help you find her.”

“How is a weak person like you going to help me?”

For a moment you forgot how mean he was in the anime… “I’m from this world, so I know where things are and how things work. You’ll need a place to stay away from the sun too. You can stay here.”

Gyutaro scowls and looks you up and down before responding, “Fine.”

If he was back in his world he would have killed you already. But he doesn’t know this place, it’s strange to him. So far, he hasn’t encountered any of the other demons either. You seem to be the only person that knows him. He still doesn’t quite understand how or why, but he is desperate right now. Desperate to find his sister and go back home. Even though he despises humans, he will keep you alive in hopes that you really can help him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #kny fluff #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #modern au #canon

[thecreelhouse]

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: Gator’s sleep deprived but dead set on setting up that goddamn air mattress, which the two of you use for anything but sleeping.

Word count: 4.2k+

CW/Tags: language, mutual masturbation, oral sex/face riding (fem receiving), soft switch (both Gator and Reader), praise kink, dirty talk, brief anal play, squirting, brief body image/self esteem issues, tooth rotting fluff, orgasm induced syncope (i am so sorry lmfao), sleepy confessions, gator being a lovable idiot

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: hi y’all!! thanks for all the kind words in the tags and replies about this series!! I’m glad others are enjoying this, bc I’ve been having lots of fun writing this. This chapter is kinda silly and a bit of a filler, but hopefully it still keeps y’all fellow sluts happy and entertained :’) <3

Day 6

It’s one in the morning, and you’re still awake. So is Gator. And the two of you are delirious at this point, running on broken sleep schedules.

The two of you were bundled back up in the coziest sleep clothes while the fireplace burned on and illuminated the room in a soft, warm glow. Gator blew up the air mattress like he suggested, but you were skeptical about the idea.

“We’re gonna end up on the floor by sunrise.” You warn with a yawn, side eyeing the mattress with arms crossed. “These things never stay inflated.”

“No, no, look, this one’s high quality, okay?” Gator insists, slapping the mattress as the air pump raises it from the collapsed state it was just in. “This thing doesn’t deflate, I swear.”

“Didn’t you say that when we went camping in middle school?” You argue with the memory fresh in your mind. “We ended up on the ground and the tent leaked from the storm, so we got all soggy and sad.”

Gator snorts at the memory, “Yeah, but if we did sleeping bags we still woulda’ got wet.”

“This isn’t the same mattress, is it?”

“Wh— no!” Gator grumbles, focused on closing the entrance for air before it begins leaking. “Look, look how big it is! Now that,” Gator slaps the top of the mattress one more time before grinning at you, “That’s a firm mattress. That thing means business.”

You’re giggling at his enthusiasm. “You sound like a dad that found a deal on an air mattress at the hiking store.”

“You just can’t appreciate a good mattress.” Gator’s totally more delirious than you at this point, with less sleep in his system than you. “Look, watch, are you watching?”

“Gator, I am literally staring at you, what the fuck else should I do? Throw my eyeballs at you?”

“This won’t deflate. Seriously, watch me, I’ll show you,” Gator jumps onto the air mattress like a child would, and he’s right, it doesn’t deflate. It does, however, bounce him back into the air and onto the hardwood floor.

You gasp, but can’t hold back more giggles. “Are you- oh my god- Gator that was so fucking—“

He’s face down on the floor, cutting you off with one hand raising in the air, flipping the bird.

“You did this to yourself, Tillman.” The laughter continues, but you move to his side, glancing down at the exhausted heap his body landed on the floor into. “You want some ice?”

Gator turns his head to the side but doesn’t move otherwise, “Yeah… maybe. That might be a good idea.”

“Okay, there’s plenty outside,” You tease as you sit on the bed, bouncing a little yourself. At least you’re still on the bed. Gator pushes himself up from the floor, shooting an unamused glare your way.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, it’s still inflated. Told you!” He’s a little too excited about this damn air mattress.

“Gator you definitely need to sleep,” You tug at his legs after he’s back on his feet. “C’mon, maybe if you lay down like a normal human being, you won’t get hurt again.”

Surprisingly, he’s got no marks on his face despite launching in the air and falling flat onto the floor.

Your arms loosely loop around his legs, trying to gently tug him onto the bed; his arms mirror yours, pulling your face closer to him. He’s not aware of where your face is, he’s too tired to think clearly. You, however, are very aware.

“Gator, if you want me to blow you, you could just ask.” You’re teasing him, but he lets go, laughing nervously.

“I- that wasn’t intentional, I swear.” He’s in a fit of sleepy laughter now, and it’s contagious, making you join in. “I was just huggin’ you back, I promise!”

“Uh-huh, sure.” You taunt as you move over, mocking Gator by slapping the mattress like he did moments ago. “Are you getting on this damn bed or not?” Gator narrows his gaze at you before sitting down slowly, as if it’s your fault he fell.

“What if I told you I hurt my dick when I fell?” Gator asks, trying to keep a straight face. His eyes are bloodshot, and the circles under his eyes are dark. “What then? Huh? Ice can’t fix that, y’know.”

You roll your eyes before swinging a pillow at him playfully. “Well, I ain’t no doctor. You’re shit outta luck.” Dramatically, he falls over on the bed, frowning while clutching his chest.

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

“Gator, what happened to watchin’ more movies?”

“An emergency happened! It’s not like you can really plan for those.”

You snicker, “Do I look like an ambulance?”

“No, but y’look like an angel that should be saving my life.”

Eyes rolling, you say, “Hey, Gator?”

He rolls over to get closer to you, head laying in your lap as your legs are criss-crossed. “Yeah?” He looks up at you, grinning like a sleepy idiot.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

His smile flips into a ridiculous frown. “Why? I like bein’ up with you.”

“Because I can tell just how exhausted you are by talking so sweet right now.” You gently move him off your lap before settling under the fluffy blankets piled around the two of you. Gator follows suit, grabbing your waist as soon as he’s under the covers.

“Surprised you ain’t takin’ advantage of that.”

“Listen, I’m not complaining, but you need sleep way more than anything right now.”

“M’fine! I probably could stay up ‘til sunrise.”

“Gator.”

“Fine, fine!” He glowers at you before shutting his eyes. “Fun sucker.”

He falls silent, and the only sounds around the two of you are the fireplace crackling, the wind continuing to brutally howl outside, and the soft breaths between the two of you. You watch Gator for a bit, and he seems to be relaxing, falling into a steady pattern of breaths.

That was fast.

As soon as your own eyes start to shut, though, Gator breaks the silence, groaning, “I can’t sleep like this.” You were so close to falling asleep; your eyes open, glaring at Gator.

Irritated, you still humor his thoughts; your brows knit together, confused, “Like what?” His hand clumsily grabs yours, leading it down to the length growing under his sweats. Your eyes are wide now; you’re definitely awake again.

“Like this,” His eyes flutter closed as he lazily bucks into your palm, making himself shudder a sigh out. “Please, baby.”

You’d be a liar if you tried to deny how attractive he is while he’s so needy.

“Again, you did it to yourself.” You’re trying not to automatically give in, but the way he looks so pathetic and cute at once is hard to ignore.

He ruts against your hand, whining when you don’t return the friction and pressure he craves. You pretend to start to fall back asleep, while Gator still searches for satisfaction from his actions against your palm.

“You’re terrible at faking bein’ asleep, darlin’.” He’s trying to sound composed, but his words just come out breathy and desperate, instead.

“And you’re terrible at going 24 hours without being as horny as a teenager.” You murmur, keeping your eyes shut. While he keeps moving, you can feel a damp spot forming on the fabric. It’s taking everything within you to ignore that, too. “Your dick’s gonna fall off if you don’t leave it alone.”

“If I wasn’t so tired, you’d be over my knee already for being a brat.”

“See, you admit it! You’re tired! Now, go the fuck to sleep.”

Gator doesn’t listen, pulling his sweats down and moving your hand so you can really feel him. “Can’t. Need you, darlin’,” is all he breathes out.

Pulling back, you sit up, leaning on your arm, watching disappointment cover Gator’s face. “You want to get off?” His face lights up immediately.

“Yeah, yes, I need it,” He’s palming himself now, growing more agitated the longer he goes without relief.

“Alright. Show me.” Gator’s confused, so you elaborate. “Show me how you get off.”

“Me? I have to do it?”

“You don’t have to, but you’re not getting off any other way.”

Gator’s mouth drops as he glares at you, insulted. “But I’m so tired.”

Shrugging, you lay back down. “Oh well, not my problem.”

“Well, actually, you stole the blankets from me, and that kept me up, so—“

“And?”

“You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Tillman.” You’re quick to respond. “You’ve got two options: show me how you touch yourself, or sleep. Your call.”

Gator huffs, frustrated, before pushing his sweats down his legs completely, kicking them off the side of the bed. “You’re the worst,” he grumbles, hand wrapping around his length; he’s a swollen, leaking mess. The tip of his cock is red with need as precum pulses out.

“You gonna be okay without a sock, baby?” You pout at him mockingly. “You might make a mess.”

His hand speeds up as he arches into his own touch. “Shut up about the fucking—“

You lean over him, spitting onto his cock and hand around it. He stops to watch you in awe before breaking his trance to spread the saliva over himself.

“That make it easier?” You continue mocking him. Gator grits his teeth, hand moving with ease against his skin. You grab his face, forcing him to look at you. “Answer me.”

Those two words seem to make Gator’s brain melt; they’re not special, but the tone you give him hits a weak spot somewhere within him.

“Y- yeah, it does.” He sighs as he continues jerking himself off. You move back a little before removing your own pants, touching yourself lazily in front of him. Gator throws his head back on the pillow, unable to take his eyes off of you. “We could be doing this together, y’know. Isn’t easier to just fuck instead?”

Your fingers slide up and down your slit, gathering arousal before pushing two fingers into yourself at once. You gasp at the sensation of stretching your own walls out. It’s not as good as Gator using his hands, mouth, or cock, but it’s enough for right now.

“You haven’t earned it yet.”

Gator’s eyes roll back in his head as he picks up the pace on himself. His back arches again, off of the bed as he whines. “Fucking fuck—“ his face is red, embarrassed that you’re making him work for his own release. “How the fuck do I earn it then?”

“Not sure.” You giggle, and he glares at you. “Guess we can figure it out along the way.”

His eyes dart back and forth between the hand between your legs, now toying with your clit, and the taunting smirk you’re shooting his way.

“Need you.”

“I know, you told me already.” Every time you mock, dismiss, or belittle him, his hips stutter, and his breath shudders, but he tries to hide it. “It’s okay, Gator, it’s hard to keep your thoughts together like this, isn’t it?”

Gator shakes his head, free hand reaching out for you. You pull back, but he’s faster, grabbing your leg, digging his nails into your skin. “No, I need you.”

“You already said that, babe.”

“Fuck— just fucking sit on my face. That’s what I need. Please?” He sounds so hot and bothered like this. “I owe you, you didn’t get off last time, darlin’.”

Your face heats up at his words, suddenly growing shy. “Won’t I- uh-“ You’re trying to find your words without embarrassing yourself, so you just shake your head ‘no’ instead.

“Why not?” Gator whines, grip still tight on you. Your own actions along your folds stop, and you pull your hand away from your core. Gator slows his own hand, noticing the way your mood shifts. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What if I hurt you?” You motion to your legs and hips, plush with curves and softness.

Gator sits up, letting his grip on himself go, focusing on you.

“You kiddin’? There’s no way you would.” Gator tries reassuring you, ignoring the way his cock twitches after he stopped stroking himself. “Plus, on the off chance you did hurt me, I’d think it’d be an honor to have my neck snapped by a pretty girl like you.”

You snort at his sentiment. “You’re definitely sleep deprived sayin’ some shit like that.”

He reaches out, hand cradling the side of your face; you instantly lean into his touch, tension leaving your body. “Sleep deprived or not, it’s true.”

Your face gravitates towards his as you giggle, “You’re corny.”

“And you’re a sucker for that.” Gator’s voice drops low while his thumb wanders to your lips, eyes quick to follow and linger, too. You nod, watching his expression as he toys with your bottom lip. “I’d still love to make ya’ feel good, if you’re comfortable with it, darlin’. But we can go to sleep if you’d rather that.”

“Oh now you want to sleep.” You tease, and it earns an eye roll from Gator. “If we do… you’ll promise to tell me if I hurt you, right? Like you can tell me to stop, I don’t want you to feel like—“

Gator cuts you off with a kiss; his lips languidly move against yours, coaxing your lips to part, letting him in with ease. His tongue melds with yours, earning a whimper from you; his reaction is a smirk and a breathy laugh into you before biting on your bottom lip, slowly pulling on it before releasing his hold on you.

“Use me to feel good, darlin’.” He whispers as your noses still touch, lips just centimeters apart. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “I promise you can finish this time.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” You deadpan, pushing his chest gently so he falls back onto the pillow. He reaches out to you, hands grabbing whatever he can touch. “Promise you’ll tell me to stop if you’re not okay?”

Gator nods intently, tired eyes wide with desire. You pause for a moment, hesitant.

Fuck it.

As you clamber up Gator’s body, he assists you faster by hooking his arms around your legs, pushing them from the back. You yelp at the sudden push, only making him smirk. You’re hovering above him, about to lower yourself, when concern for his pleasure hits you. “What about you, though?”

Ignoring your question, his arms move to hook under your thighs, hands finding your backside, kneading the soft swell of your ass. “Hey, darlin’?”

You’re dizzy from his touch. “Hm?”

“Shut up already.” He swiftly pulls you down to his mouth, and on contact you’re beginning to see stars. The noises that erupt from the two of you are obscene and loud; you’re immediately grateful there’s no neighbors around his house.

You’re frantically searching for something to hold onto; air mattresses don’t come with a bed frame, unfortunately. You look down at Gator, who’s already looking up at you, and the eye contact makes the knot in your lower tummy tighten with want. Your hands tangle into his hair, tugging softly.

“C’mon, you can pull harder than that.” Gator murmurs into your folds, deliberately taking his time tasting you. “You did a few days ago, remember?”

The morning you found his porn searches flashes in your mind, along with pinning him down to his bed after he caught you, pulling on his hair as you taunted him.

“Uh-huh,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers weave and wind through his hair before tugging harder, earning a deep groan from him, vibrating into you from below.

“That’s it, darlin’.” He’s praising you in between sucking on your clit. “Just like that.”

Your hips start rolling, but you force yourself to stop, worried it’s too much for him. Gator notices, reminding you, “You don’t gotta to hold back. I can take it.”

Your thighs instinctively try to close, but you stop yourself from doing that, too. Gator pushes on your thighs, closing in towards his head anyway.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I dreamt about bein’ between these legs,” Gator softly nips at your clit, and you cry out, head falling back. “Got no idea how many times I wished it was you riding my face when it was someone else.”

“Gator…” You’re tensing up as you keen, pulling roughly on his hair now. He spanks you, earning a shaky yelp from your lips. “Th— you’ve— god.”

“No one’s tasted as sweet as you, baby.” He tongue fucks you, and you lose it, all concerns and doubts vanishing into thin air; you begin really riding his face, and he’s taking it with pride. “Can’t believe you’re this fucked out already.”

Your whole body is burning up; you hastily tear your shirt over your head and throw it aside, hand leaving his hair to start grabbing yourself. You barely begin groping yourself before Gator unhooks an arm to reach up and shove your hand away. You’re about to whine out, annoyed, but he immediately replaces your touch, teasing your body. “Let me do the work, darlin’.” His other hand follows suit, fingers tweaking and pinching your nipples, causing you to grind down on his face.

Gator alternates between his tongue, lips, and nose to keep the pleasure building within you. The combination as you continue riding him makes your legs begin to shake.

“You better not be cummin’ yet,” He warns as his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it again while his strong hands continue to fondle your tits. “I just started playin’ with ya’.”

“Ye- yeah but what about you?”

“This is more than enough for me.” He quickly answers before delving back into your centre, tongue teasing your entrance again. One hand comes back down, but as he hooks it under your leg again, he lightly touches and circles your tight, puckered hole. You jump, not expecting the sensation, but you moan, thighs tightening around Gator’s head again. “Can I play with ya’ back here sometime, darlin’?”

You nod quickly as your hips work faster. Gator chuckles into your core while his fingers swipe through your folds briefly, collecting arousal to spread onto your tight ring, making his touch even more sinful.

“Gator, please…”

“Anyone ever eat ya’ here, too?” The filth of his words and casual tone make your eyes roll back into your head. “Need an answer, darlin’. Wanna learn everything about you, pretty girl.”

You can only think of one response, “I’m- I’m close,” You whimper, lightheaded from all the teasing and stimulation. “Gator— Gator, please, I—“

His arms move back to where they first started, hands on your body, guiding you along roughly on his face as your hips stutter their movements.

His tongue works in tandem with his mouth’s suction before murmuring, “Make it count, princess.”

The encouragement is enough to send you over the edge; you started this seeing stars, but now you’re surrounded by the entire fucking galaxy. Legs shaking, you’re involuntarily grinding harder onto Gator’s face. He doesn’t stop his meticulous actions, even when you nearly put him into a death grip with your thighs. Your head lolls back, mouth falling open in a silent cry before a moan fills the empty space. You’re screaming his name, followed by an incoherent chain of noises and babbling, mind melting from the intense pleasure.

“There ya’ go, darlin’.” His praise earns another wave of noises. You’re unable to tell until it hits you like lightning; another orgasm floods through you, causing you to squirt. You’re too engulfed in your second climax to realize how horrified you’d probably be, squirting on Gator, but he moans into you loudly, hips flexing up into the open air before his own legs shake wildly. Despite it all, he’s somehow able to continue praising you. “That’s it, such a good girl. My good girl.”

Your eyes cross, vision tunneling before everything goes dark. You don’t even hear yourself make the loudest cry you’ve made so far since being snowed in.

——

“Hey, c’mon, get up baby.”

Your head feels floaty, eyes softly opening while you try blinking away the blurriness. Everything comes into focus around you; you look up to see Gator gazing down at you, worried. You’re resting on the bed, head laying in his lap.

“Jesus, you scared me.” He runs a hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face. You’re a mess, soaked, sweaty, and finally coming to.

“Gator?”

“M’here, I got ya’.” Relief replaces his worried expression as you wake up more. “It was only a minute, but might’ve been the longest minute of my life.”

“Whaddya mean?” You slur, breath calm, slow and steady now. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Can you worry about yourself for once?” He’s lighthearted in his words, but he means it. “Are you okay?”

You’re silent for a moment, reaching up with tingling hands to rub your eyes. “I think I found God in that last orgasm.”

Gator can’t help the laugh that leaves his lips, despite trying to stifle it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe, continuing to become more aware of your surroundings.

Gator’s here. You’re on the air mattress. The one he insisted the two of you sleep on tonight. Everything’s okay. It just made you—

You look down, realizing how soaked you are. The pillow Gator laid on earlier and the surrounding area of the mattress are wet, too.

Fuck. Not again.

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” You grumble, sitting up fast, but your vision tilts, and Gator can tell you’re still dizzy.

“C’mere, give yourself a bit to get up.” He pulls you into his lap, but you squirm, even more embarrassed. “Darlin’, what’s goin’ on?”

“M’all gross, don’t let me sit on you—“ You stop, studying his face. To your horror, his face, not even just the bottom half, is damp, and you know exactly why. “Oh my god. I- fuck. I’m so sorry. Oh my god, this is so fuckin’ humiliating.”

Gator uses the back of his arm to wipe his face crudely, but he’s smiling. “Wish you’d stop apologizin’ for this, because it’s so fuckin’ hot.”

You cover your face with your hands, shaking your head. “Here I was worried I’d crush ya’, but instead I just— I can’t even say it.”

“Squirted?”

“Gator.”

“Why’s that so bad?” He’s sincerely asking, but his tongue swiping along his bottom lip isn’t making this easier to accept. “It felt good, yeah?”

Slowly, you nod, but you’re embarrassed to admit it. You look away from him, but your gaze lands on the damp spot on his sweats. You figure he put them back on after you passed out, but it takes a second to realize he came on himself, and didn’t clean up before checking on you.

Something about that, despite being gross, is really sweet.

“Gator, did you touch yourself?”

“Huh?” He looks down, blushing as he notices the spot, too. “Oh, uh, no. My hands were on you, baby. It just kinda happened watchin’ you cum again. Swear it’s not from watchin’ you pass out.”

You giggle, “I figured, since you didn’t even clean yourself. Fuckin’ A, Gator. We just cleaned up like two hours ago.”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’ll grab somethin’ to clean ya’, wait here.”

“No way, I’m coming with you, and we’re sleeping upstairs. I’m not laying on this bed that I soaked half of.” You cringe at your last sentence.

“Alright, fair point. I’m gonna put the fire out, then we can head upstairs, okay?”

It’s only a minute or so before the fire’s extinguished, and Gator’s helping you up, guiding you safely to the stairs.

“Hey, darlin’?” He’s a few steps ahead, turning on the bathroom light and grabbing towels for the both of you.

“What’s up?”

“…. Can I use that face wash of yours?”

———

“Have you ever passed out before while you cum?”

Gator’s voice is raspy, exhausted, and he’s wrapped around you in his bed. You offered yours this time, but the two of you remembered he’s the one with blackout curtains, not you.

You quietly respond with just “No.” with your head ducked in towards his chest. The two of you are naked again, it’s just easier at this point. “M’sorry that happened.”

“What do I gotta do to convince you that ya’ got nothin’ to be sorry for?” He asks, kissing the top of your head. “Stuff happens out of our control, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to scare you like that. I think the combination of everything happening and being sleep deprived caused it— wait. Gator? Why the fuck are we still awake?”

“Because we’re both idiots.” He chuckles, eyes growing heavy. “Did you drink enough water? I can get ya’ some more.”

You shake your head, “No, thank you, though. I can’t get over how nice you are when you’re not being a total douche.”

“There were definitely nicer ways to word that, y’know.”

You ignore his quip, half asleep. “Thank you, Gator. Wouldn’t wanna be an idiot with anyone else other than you.” In seconds, you’re dozing off, falling into a steady breathing pattern in Gator’s arms.

As you fall asleep, you don’t hear Gator murmur, “Thank you for givin’ me another chance, darlin’.”

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x fem!reader #my fics #part time soulmate full time problem #gator tillman smut #sorry this took so long!! i was having issues with tumblr lol but who’s surprised

[chaninfused]

Dead Men Don't Speak | Lee Felix

◤“Perhaps he should have been afraid then, when she smiled and her eyes reflected nothing but an endless, unfeeling void.” In which a detective's assistant seeks the aid of an infamous killer to find his missing friend. ◤Disclaimers: Female reader insert. Chapter two from the ‘dead men don’t speak’ series. A sprinkle of angst. Descriptions of violence, murder, injury, and blood. Mentions of death and dead characters. Sparse use of vulgar language. ◤Word count: 2.5K ◤Note: This idea is mine and any case of similarity with someone else’s is purely coincidental. Events are pure fiction. Please do not take my content without my consent. Masterlist. ◤ From the author: This series has been a while in the making and I'm super excited to finally share it with you all! Fair warning, though, many characters here are very violent and borderline unhinged so if that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to steer away and find something else to read! Thank you for dropping by, and happy reading!

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Felix was afraid of many things—the dark alley behind his apartment building, the rowdy drunks in the dead of night, the stern department head at the station—but he was not afraid of the gun being pointed at his head. 

Behind the barrel was a woman he’d only heard of in frightened whispers. The Shadow Front’s Left Claw, the burgundy-dressed killer. 

“Nice work, detective,” she said, and when Felix remained silent, she laughed. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t kill you just yet.”

Kid? He frowned. He was twenty years old. He’d hardly consider himself a kid.

“Had fun snooping around?” she tilted her head. “Tell me, what were you doing here?” 

His snarl was like a crack of thunder. “What did you do with Chan?”

“Chan? Ah, your detective friend.”

Felix’s blood became ice in his veins.

“Hah. And you think I know something about him?”

“Of course you do,” he clenched his jaw. “He was investigating you when he disappeared. Tell me what you did to him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m curious about myself. Why were you investigating me?”

“What?”

As though the chill he felt coursing through his body wasn’t enough, another wave slammed into him.

“Surely you didn’t think it would be this easy to track me down?”

It was easy, and it was unbelievable, but Felix had paid it no mind at the time.

“W-Wait…”

Now, though, it felt like the ground was caving in beneath his feet.

“You mean you lured me here…and only to ask that?”

Here, cornered in an alleyway behind the abandoned warehouse which he had been eavesdropping on.

“Look at you. You’re quite adept at your job, detective,” the humor in her voice was as cold as the gleam of her gun, still magnanimously directed at his skull. “Now, tell me. What were you looking for?”

So what if it was all a setup? If answering her questions would give Felix his answers, then so be it.

“There’s a plot of land that the City Council wants to purchase,” he began, holding her cool gaze in defiance of the gaping gun barrel, “But the owner is unnamed and the land itself is suspicious. Senior Investigator Bang Chan was appointed to the task, and our investigation led us to you before he deemed it unsafe. One day later, he’s missing. And you want me to believe it wasn’t your doing?”

There was a stretch of silence before she sighed, retracting her weapon and turning away, “I thought as much.”

Just like that?

Felix peeled himself off the grimy wall and forced his legs to trail after her. “Hold on!”

She was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

He knew that, and he was sorry to the friend who relentlessly cautioned him, but he needed her.

“Isn’t your partner dead?” 

The Shadow Front’s Left Claw, the infamous, burgundy-dressed killer, halted in her step. An excruciating stillness swallowed the narrow alleyway, squeezing the air out of his lungs, and it seemed to last a lifetime and a half—

But then she shrugged her shoulders without a care.

“So they say. They didn’t let me see his corpse, though.”

Whispers of his death had been rippling throughout the underworld. The Shadow Front’s Right Claw, the one-eyed brute who always appeared alongside that murderous woman.

Invoking his name was sure to stir something in her, and Felix was prepared to lie to obtain her aid.

“But it’s curious, isn’t it?” she swiveled around to face him again before he could say anything, and the nonchalance in her tone unnerved him. “My partner dies, and the next day, your detective disappears, both having been investigating a similar case.”

She raised a finger in the air, an eerie imitation of a teacher in a classroom. “My theory is that the two of them stumbled upon information they shouldn’t have and were eliminated as a consequence.”

It was an excellent theory and the worst possible scenario Felix could imagine.

Eliminated?

It couldn’t be. He refused to let it be.

But it made sense. The coincidence was glaring.

“Here’s a deal for you, kid.”

Her voice startled him, suddenly too close as she pressed a single finger square against his chest. Perhaps he should have been afraid then, when she smiled and her eyes reflected nothing but an endless, unfeeling void.

“Work with me and I’ll find your friend for you.”

•⭓•

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but there was something amiss about the atmosphere in this car. Felix glanced at your reflection in the tinted window, shuffling through the case files he’d smuggled out of the station.

It was unnerving, this silence of yours.

As though all that had transpired in the alleyway were but an act, you sat there devoid of emotion. Not once did your brows furrow or did your lips press into a concentrated line, body as still as a statue. It was unlike the image Felix had constructed of you after collecting all those street rumors—that wildcard of a mafioso you were in his mind.

Could it be because of that man? Felix wondered.

Perhaps criminals felt grief, after all.

“What’s wrong?”

The other man in the car asked, his eyes not once straying from the road he was driving through.

The righthand man, Felix determined, having nothing but his prior intelligence to piece his identity. The third person in this car was known across the city for his frightening loyalty to none other than the Left Claw—you, who sighed after a moment’s contemplation, “These files are both useful and utterly useless.”

Felix couldn’t stop his shocked interjection. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing here is new information, though I had hoped otherwise. And yet…” you trailed off, flipping through the most recent file.

 “You say your detective disappeared on the twenty-third?”

Felix’s balled fists tightened where they were placed over his thighs. “Yes.”

“And his car was found on the highway bordering the Angelrise Forest.”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible,” you proclaimed, tossing the file in your hands back into the box snugly seated beside you, and your nonchalance caused Felix’s heart to race, panicked.

“What do you—”

“We wiped out the head of the operation that occupied the plot of land on the twenty-second of this month,” you provided, and he exhaled, vaguely relieved.

“So, you do know who the land belonged to.”

You fell into that disconcerting silence again, before scoffing so softly, “No. Seems I never did.”

It wasn’t only grief, Felix concluded then, high on the rush of meeting you and sneaking the case files out of the station. There was something dark and bitter twisted within your words. A glimpse that was urgently replaced by a commanding tone, “Jisung, let’s head to the warehouse in the West Port.”

“Are you sure? There might be nothing left there,” the righthand man, Jisung, expressed his concern with the slightest frown, but his doubts were cast aside by your despondent murmuring.

In the reflection, Felix saw you rest your head against the window, solemnly gazing at the passing scenery.

“Who knows? We might’ve missed something there.”

•⭓•

“Looks like they cleaned this place out already,” Jisung commented, glancing at your surroundings, and you strode past him.

“Still, let’s see if we can find a clue.”

Somehow, Felix had tagged along this search and now found himself trudging through the rubble and soot-covered remains of this dubious warehouse. The structure of the building survived the minor explosion, miraculously, but the roof of the once-warehouse had been completely obliterated. So, the rosy sunset sky made for your canopy instead.

Felix didn’t know what exactly he had to be seeking. Amid all the destruction, he doubted anything survived in the first place, and if what Jisung claimed was true, then the chances of finding clues were even smaller.

Yet, he scoured the burnt wreckage because that was what you were doing too. It was only after half an hour’s worth of quiet work did he notice some commotion coming from your direction and stopped his searching.

You were clutching a small item in your hand, blackened and indiscernible, and before Felix could ask about it, you fished your phone out of your pocket and made a hasty call.

“Hey, I found a phone—scorched, practically melted—but do you think you could salvage something from it?”

•⭓•

It had been bothering Felix.

“Good. This might just lead us to them,” you said as you stuffed the burnt phone in your burgundy coat, which was marred with the slightest smudges of soot.

“I hope so,” Jisung concurred. His own suit was all-black, so no evidence of the past half-hour’s work showed on him. “Let’s leave for now. This area is too exposed.”

“I don’t understand,” Felix’s voice cut through your exchange, and the two of you stopped in your tracks to stare at him questioningly.

“I thought you said they were likely eliminated, yet you speak as if they’re merely lost.”

“Oh, I don’t know about your detective, but I know my partner isn’t dead,” you shrugged, and there was that unsettling calmness again. Where he found the courage to keep speaking with you, he didn’t know, but a meager voice in his head whispered that maybe he should cease garnering that mysterious bravery.

That maybe he could live his life without needing to know the inner mind-workings of an infamous killer.

You ambled toward him in lazy steps, hands stuffed in your pockets as you went on.

“I mean…a warehouse explosion is simply too dramatic, it makes no sense. His death would most likely be by a gunshot to the back or something just as anticlimactic.”

But death had no rhyme or reason, that much was a truth Felix knew wholeheartedly. Trying to find justification behind fate’s workings would only extend one’s grief and expend their will.

You came to stand a couple of steps before him and declared with all your twisted normalcy.

“I’m going to find him and kill him myself instead.”

What the actual hell.

“What about you?”

You inquired in spite of the sheer horror that spiked his heartbeat. Kill him?

And there he thought you were grieving.

“He’s your home, isn’t that why you want to find your detective?” you prompted, and you were right. Chan was the only person on this terrible earth he’d consider family.

“That’s good. Homes are nice,” like a random busybody on the street, you kept talking, entirely disregarding the one-sidedness of the conversation. Or maybe you were simply unbothered by it. “I left mine when I was barely a teenager.

“Wanna know what I did when I left?”

Felix wasn’t particularly curious, now, given your recent record.

“I burnt it all to the ground.”

There was no gravity in your tone and clearly not a shred of remorse. Felix was glad he couldn’t see your eyes then, for you had tilted your head to face the darkening sky amid your confession.

“I let the children escape, of course, but everyone else? Gone in a brilliant blaze.”

Arson, murder, and what he could only assume was the world’s most staggering collection of crimes seemed to make up your past. It should’ve made him ill simply thinking about it.

But perhaps he wasn’t thinking, otherwise he would’ve missed the barest whisper that left your lips.

“The sky was beautiful that day. Though, I suppose today is different.”

You brought your attention back to him, mysteriously revitalized despite his non-participation in this conversation. “Tell me, what do you think is the color of the sky?”

“Uh…” Felix blinked, entirely taken aback by both your question and your multiplying scrutiny. For once, you didn’t answer in his silence, and he felt his mouth dry up with sudden dread.

He stole a glance toward Jisung who stood a few steps away in the background, and the man only gave him a pointed look as if to say, ‘just humor her for a moment’.

Left to fend for himself, Felix looked at the sky replacing the roof and found no special answer to give. The sun had set a while ago, and the somber blues of dusk had enveloped the world. Was there something he was missing?

Felix ventured, having nothing else to offer, “I guess…it’s blue?”

You appeared neither disappointed nor satisfied with his response, merely shrugging, “I see,” before turning around and walking away.

As though you had not spent the last few minutes in some strange monologue.

“We’re leaving, detective.”

•⭓•

“Figures you’d bring backup,” your steely voice sliced through the pained groans filling the air.

By all accounts, Felix had no place in this fight, but somehow he found himself a front-row seat, standing alongside Jisung who played with his gun in boredom.

It was all too much for him.

The phone you found in the warehouse did have a salvageable memory chip, despite all the damage it suffered. Once its data was recovered, you did not hesitate a beat to reach out to its owner. As a result, you found yourselves in this present situation.

A man in a standard black suit was in some sort of cruel standoff with you, having been cornered to a dead end. The comrades he brought with him were all down, either dead or dying, and he alone remained to point his gun at you.

“Stay back! The boss won’t— Argh!”

He was cut off by his own scream when you shot at his hand, forcing him to abandon his weapon and drop to his knees in agony.

“Yes, do tell me more about this boss of yours,” you said, that same expressionlessness that unsettled Felix yesterday returning. He watched you from the sidelines as you walked up to the doubled over man and crouched beside him. With the ease and patience of a kind nurse or a goodhearted Samaritan offering help, you placed your hand on his shoulder and pushed him to lie down.

And he obliged, no doubt courtesy of the gun you so politely pressed against his heart.

Felix was beginning to feel it then.

This was all wrong.

Everyone around him was wrong.

“Who do you work for?” you asked simply, gazing down at him, and the man squirmed, hissing through the pain that was surely pulsing through his arm.

“The boss won’t let this slide— He’ll hear about this—”

“Right, so tell me.”

You were bored much like your righthand man standing beside Felix, and it was wrong. So, utterly, disgustingly wrong.

“I’m not telling you anything. You’re fucking insane—!”

His gasps were interrupted by a simple yet catchy tune, and it sounded from somewhere within the man’s suit jacket.

Jisung stopped fidgeting with his gun. Your slow gaze traveled to the source of the sound. And the adrenaline that had been fueling, blinding, Felix for the past thirty-seven hours was finally snuffed out.

You made your mind up in a breath’s time.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

The shot that rang in the air pierced Felix’s ears, immediately killing the mysterious assailant. Without so much as a moment of respect for his death, you reached into the man’s jacket and pulled out the ringing phone.

Felix wanted to scream until his throat bled. Until the savage sickness in his stomach disappeared.

You stood up and answered the call, letting the voice on the other end crackle through the speaker.

“What the hell is your squad doing at the West Port, Jonah?”

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The mystery begins! This entire series is comprised of short fics with bits of the plot sprinkled in for you, the reader, to piece together. That being said, I'd love to hear your thoughts as we go! As usual, a reblog and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I hope you have a lovely day, and I'll see you again on the 11th of February for the next chapter! ♡

#stray kids #lee felix #stray kids imagines #lee felix imagines #felix imagines #stray kids scenarios #lee felix scenarios #felix scenarios #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #stray kids x you #lee felix x you #felix x you #stray kids x y/n #lee felix x y/n #felix x y/n #skz x reader #skz angst #stray kids mafia #stray kids fanfic #skz fanifc #lee felix fanfic #felix fanfic #stray kids angst #skz imagines #skz scenarios #source: chaninfused

[cherubkeery]

Okay but like Steve takes the kids to the pool on a hot summers day, and readers a lifeguard. Steve is obsessed with reader since forever, and he plans on pulling that one scene in sandlot when the kid kisses the lifeguard by pretending to drown. Toothrotting fluff lol

“You only want to go because Y/n is going to be there. Don’t you have your own pool?” Dustin said. Eyeing Steve suspiciously.

“I thought it would be nice to have a pool day outside of my house, butthead. More fun, duh.” Steve said, having a terrible excuse on why they were all headed to the local pool, instead of the one in his back yard.

“More fun? There’s so many people in one pool. The water gets too warm and gross.” Max says in disgust. She’s crammed in the back with all the boys and El.

“Yeah and if it gets in your mouth it literally tastes like-.”

“Okay! Okay! I get it, I just thought we’ll uh socialize more duh.”

“Hmm sure, dingus sure. You’re definitely not going to go see a girl you’d been obsessed with. Since like forever.” Robin says. Steve just rolls his eyes. The drive there isn’t long but already seeing from outside of the parking lot. A huge crowd has already gathered around the pool.

“All for a girl.” Dustin says disapprovingly. But Steve ignores him. Because he sees you, high up on your lifeguard chair. Staring out to make sure everyone is safe. No one is drowning.

“Michael! Please don’t run in the pool!” You sound genuinely concern for the kid, unlike other lifeguards who yell angrily at the kids. He likes that about you, your gentle nature.

“Sorry!” The kid yells back.

A plan slowly concocts in Steve mind. A silly plan, but he knows it’ll get your attention. He doesn’t mention it to anyone but Robin gives him a look.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.”

☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆

Steve is a really great, outstanding swimmer. If he can say so himself. Which means he knows how to make it look like he’s drowning when he’s not. He knows your instinct to help him will overpower the fact that you know that about him.

He waits until less and less people have left the pool. Heading towards the deep end. He hopes you’re watching him glide in the water. So he knows phase one of his plan is working.

“You sure you can make it that far Harrington?” Max jokes, Steve only smiles at her. Which only sends Max’s eyebrows to go up. She carries on anyway, swimming toward El. Away from him.

Once he makes it to his destination is when he begins to pretend to drown.

“Oh my god! Steve!” He hears you scream, a smirk he hopes no one can see appears on his lip.

“I thought he knew how to swim!” Mike yells.

With the help of another lifeguard, they manage to pull him out. Steve can already see the look on Robin’s and Dustin face. But he doesn’t care, phase one of his plan succeeded.

The lifeguard leaves to go get something as you stay behind.

“Shit, is he okay?” Will asks.

“He’s full of shit.” Lucas counters.

“Are you sure he’s not dead?” El asks.

Steve can feel you lean down close to him, pressing your fingers to make sure he’s still breathing. Then as you begin to give him cpr. His lips begins to mush into yours. Your hand is still pressed on his arm, you pull away quickly. But you don’t seem mad.

“Hope you had your fun, Steve.” You say. You lean down close to him once more as you whisper. “If you’d just ask me, I would have let you kiss me a long time ago.”

That manages to make Steve cheeks go red. You get up slowly, Steve scans your body in your red one piece and he knows he’s acting like a savage teenage boy. But he doesn’t care, he finally got to kiss you.

“Yeah I’m officially done with you.” Dustin says, walking away and back to the pool.

“Very lame, dude.” Mike says, shaking head.

Steve doesn’t care. He watches as you climb back up onto the chair. You send a wink in his direction. He knows he sure to get your number now.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff

[mooncello]

Hey friends. Holy wow my big sad brain took me out this past week. I couldn't touch anything creative until the last couple days. (The warm sunshine is helping.) I'm on my fourth rewrite of chapter two for lost boys. (Fourth!) I think this is the version y'all are gonna see because I cannot keep doing this to myself. At some point, things just need to be good enough, yeah?

Eternal gratitude for @thewholelemon who has read every version, every axed sentence and dead end, and continues to offer sage wisdom, feedback and encouragement. Jenny, you're also reminding me to have fun, and, well, I honestly think I would have given up on this thing by now without you. Alllll the love, my friend. 🩵

For today, I'm sharing part of a scene that ended up on the cutting room floor. Enjoy this dead darling as it's headed to the compost pile. In the spirit and practice of having fun and not overthinking things, it is unedited.

It's also long so I've placed it under the cut.

A delighted laugh spills out of my mouth, and I hold out my arms in a raw embrace of the elements, tilting my face into the warm rain and feeling the water collect in the dips of my eye sockets. Eventually I blink open my eyes to find Simon racing between thick, tall flower stems with Pockets. Simon stops for a breath and looks over his shoulder at me, his smile bright and open and wide. It only takes a couple minutes before we are completely soaked through. “Tink didn’t tell me it would rain,” Simon says once he’s finished running around and joins me by an enormous tower of purple orchids. “I don’t mind it,” I reply. I don’t, really. Not when it feels like the most luxurious hot shower, surrounded by giant flowers. Not when Simon is standing in front of me, his soaked t-shirt clinging to his form like a second skin. (That’s happening more – me noticing things like that. Specifically about Simon.) (He’s a dream. It’s fine. I wish he were real, but it’s fine.) “Let’s go dry off,” Simon laughs. We part ways with the others and return to the flat rocks overlooking the sea. The rain ends at the meadow’s edge, so it’s nothing but big blue sky and gentle sunshine as we stretch out on the rocks. A slow, balmy wind sweeps over us from the ocean. It smells of salt and lime and driftwood. The sun-warmed sandstone bleeds its warmth into my back, and I release a contented sigh. “Fuck…” I draw the word out so long it turns into a groan. “The sun feels good.” Simon gives a lazy laugh and rolls onto his stomach, resting his head across his arms. Our bodies make a near-perfect 90 degree angle. “I feel like a cat,” I mumble. “I don’t want to move. Ever.” There’s no response. Simon is silent, which is unusual for him. I squint open an eye against the bright sunlight and glance over at him, only to find him staring at me. His curls fall over his forehead and his eyelashes are still clumped together, thick with meadow rain.  My stomach swoops. I feel exposed under his gaze. “What?” The faintest pink sweeps down his neck, and his eyes flick away. “Nothing.” He sniffs. “I mean, do you ever – I dunno…Would you…” He trails off, and I’m too sun-drunk to fully pursue. “They’re called words, Simon,” I drawl. Simon scrunches his nose and tucks his chin over his arms, tilting his head at me. “What d’you wanna do after drying off?” That isn’t what he had wanted to say, but I’m loose-limbed from the sun and distracted by the way his forearms are folded over one another. I tear my eyes away from his arms and say with a deep sigh, “Told you. I’m never moving from this rock. I’m a cat. A lizard. I’ve entered my reptilian era.” Simon laughs again, and the sound finds every crack inside my body and fills it with a warmth that surpasses the sun.

thank you for the tag @thewholelemon

no-pressure tags and hellos:

@best--dress, @shrekgogurt, @bookish-bogwitch, @cutestkilla, @artsyunderstudy, @nightimedreamersworld, @facewithoutheart, @whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @ileadacharmedlife, @stitchyqueer, @valeffelees, @orange-peony, @larkral & @iamamythologicalcreature (ty for the art chat 🎨🧡)

#lost boys #my writing #simon snow #baz pitch #six sentence sunday #snowbaz fic

[timdrakemybeloved]

Snape makes me so fucking mad holy fuck, I’m incapable of thinking of him positively. I don’t even like Draco and I think of him 10x more positively than I think of Snape.

What kind of person gets bullied as a child and then grows up and bullies the child of his bully like that makes him way worse than James (btw I love James and I fully believe he matured and grew up and is a good person who deserved more than for Snape to tell a literal Nazi terrorist to kill him and his infant son but to leave his wife alive). Snape had way more power over the kids he taught than James did over him and what did he do with it?

He made fun of their appearance and scared them to the point that he was Neville’s boggart (which when you think about it is so awful because 1, Neville’s parents got tortured into insanity and I’m pretty sure he was there, and his boggart probably should have been Bellatrix or his uncle even, and 2, he did it because Neville was the other possible prophecy child and Snape was upset that Voldie didn’t pick him to kill when HE GAVE HIM THE PROPHECY IN THE FIRST PLACE).

He said shitty things about Harry’s dead parents and orphan-hood, was glaring at Harry literally right off the bat so don’t say it was because he got into trouble a lot, asked him questions he couldn’t possibly know, told Draco to summon a serpent during duelling club??? How irresponsible is that???

Literally lied to the minister just to get Sirius killed, which atp is ridiculous (I think Sirius was dumb as fuck, careless, possibly malicious, to tell snape where to go to find moony, but snape literally already suspected that Remus was a werewolf so idk what the fuck he thought was gonna happen if he found him during the full moon, and calling it a murder attempt is a stretch), like grow up please this man was in Azkaban for 12 years which is a hugely disproportionate punishment for anything he did do to you, and the reason he was there in the first place was literally fraudulent, which he knew and he lied anyway.

And honestly the Legilimancy lessons were fucking joke, who looks through an abused kids memories and makes fun of both the abuse and the few good memories he has?? And then he’s surprised that Harry tried to equal the playing field between them?? Snape had way more power than Harry did, and obviously it wasn’t the best thing to do to a person but yk what I’m not going to judge Harry’s actions, Snape was abusive and the victim isn’t to blame for their reactions to their abuser.

And he threw Harry across the room for seeing his memories?? Abuse. To be honest even seeing the memory about James being a bully felt like JKR trying to make shit up as fast as possible to make Snape seem more redeemable, which apparently worked for some people who think abusing kids is okay as long as you have a tragic backstory and an abusive parent. And it actually makes me really mad that he thought Harry was treated like a prince so decided to treat him like shit so he wouldn’t get any ideas about having self esteem or confidence, then found out that he was abused and then just did nothing and tbh treated him worse. And the lessons themselves were actually painful to Harry?? They definitely made his mind more vulnerable, he had more nightmares.

And let’s not forget that he joined a Nazi group that wanted to exterminate people like his best friend, called his best friend a slur, viewed Lily as an exception to the other muggleborns, and invented sectumsempura for his enemies IN SCHOOL which means the Maurauders.

And it makes me sick that he looked in a room with a crying baby whose parents just got murdered, his mom right in front of him, and a dead woman who was killed by his Nazi leader like directly because of his actions, and then he ignored the baby and went to hug the woman’s dead body. Like if I was Lily, I wouldn’t want him near either my body or my child, but if he was my only option, then he better be fucking taking care of my living son. Like she rejected him his weird obsession for her freaks me tf out.

And I get that without Snape asking for Lily to be spared, Voldemort wouldn’t have asked Lily to stand aside and the blood protection wouldn’t have been activated, but literally once good thing happening because of a tragedy he caused doesn’t make him a good person.

Anyway. Think I got it out of my system for now. Fuck Snape. :)

Edit: Just to be clear, I actually find his character really compelling, even though I dislike him and his actions. And of course I’m not saying no one can like Snape.

#anti snape apologists #anti snape #fuck snape fr #snape bashing #actually no it’s not because these are factual things that he’s done and they’re not exaggerated and he’s just a shitty person #not a good person who made mistakes

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOCHES!! Hii my lovely dove!! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ʚ🍓ɞ

Okay okay! I know I’m flooding your inbox again but I have some fluff! (With angst) so if you don’t mind! —Okay I just have to say that soft Dottore is <3 especially since he’s cold and serious all the time (and doing evil man things) so him being soft for his lover could make me cry!! (especially since although he may have a soft spot for you him actually being full blown soft is like once in a blue moon) Okay okay so! Dottore most likely takes a few weeks or maybe more than a month to make new medication for Fragile!Reader whenever his last prototype fails. And with it I’m sure he gets frustrated, of course never to sweet little you. But, at times these medications he makes can have their side effects. Which is why Dottore almost always supervises you himself whenever he injects you with these medications. Since well, your fragile body sometimes may reject them, or lead to you on some occasions feeling fatigued or nauseated. So usually when you do receive a new medication you find yourself in his lab for most of the day. Always having to inform him how you’re feeling and if something feels off. Zandik of course is always keeping a keen eye on you even if he might be busy with some experiment. As one moment you can be talking about some fun thing you had done with the clones a few days ago, and the next you could be vomiting or worse, faint. So to say that Zandik isn’t concerned about you is an understatement. He really wishes he didn’t have to experiment new medications on you every few weeks or so to hopefully cure your illness. (He has injected at times some of his “patients” with the medication he’d use before giving it to you, but since your body is frail and weak the outcomes are always much different than compared to a regular healthy person) but Zandik would definitely let you sit on his lap while he works. Since he knows you’re very very vulnerable in this state. Which he doesn’t mind (as much as he hates to admit it Dottore is quite possessive over you) and he’ll even gently caress your hair with his free hand while the other writes away. So although you may feel yucky and absolutely exhausted. Zandik tries his best to alleviate your pain. Since you always say that being near him or being held by him makes you feel 1000% better. (Which he knows may not be true in actuality, but he just wants to make his lover happy) ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა

But I hope you enjoy this brainrot I thought of this at like 12 AM at midnight since the power in our neighborhood was out for a whole 2 hours this past Sunday. It was kinda creepy seeing all the houses and streetlights have no lights turned on. The heat was unbearable Ꮚ ᵒ̴̶̷̥ ‸ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥ Ꮚ but I hope you’re doing absolutely wonderful! I love u so so much I give you so many hugs and chu chus!! I just wanna squeeze n cuddle u smooches !!! >< may you have an absolutely wonderful week and continue enjoying the rest of your summer!

-From your dear boo boo 🎐 anon! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

🎐 ANON BACK AGAIN WITH THE BEST BRAINROTS!!!

I am happily consuming soft Dottore, thank you for this sm 😭 (soft dot has been on my mind lately, I'm just. I need him to cuddle me) You’re so right, if he isn’t being serious, he’s being cunning or mocking too, so seeing him being actually genuine with his love for you!! Is so! <33 You can’t help but feel special because you’re the only person who will ever witness him like this!

It’s kind of funny actually. Dottore, the mad doctor, spending this much time on a cure. Helpful medicine. Everyone else would guess that instead he’s concocting poisons and injections to hurt others with (which they aren’t wrong) but they would never guess he’s carrying out genuine doctor things. Which he honestly couldn’t blame them for. If anyone saw how softly he acted with you, well… either they’d be dead, or he’ll never live it down if it was one of the Harbingers.

You dread taking new medications or getting shots, but you can’t help but feel you owe it to Zandik. You know how hard he works on these things, only for them to not work. His expression remains the same but you know he feels disappointed every time nothing seems to change in your condition. At the very least, you have a good amount of time to finally hang around him uninterrupted. Archon knows how challenging it is to be a Harbinger’s spouse, much less Dottore’s, with his schedule and lack of time. And to have his undivided attention on you? Phew.

Being treated by him so softly is enough to make you swoon!! But too bad you feel too tired to do that, so you have to opt for snuggling into his chest on his lap (which is arguably more comfy than your bed.) Feeling his gloved hand stroke your hair along with the soothing sound of pen against paper is far more relaxing than you thought it’d be. It felt like you could sleep for hours. Seeing him so concerned about your needs was so <3 to you, even though you felt crappy and down, he still wanted to be in your company and comfort you too <3

Omfg I love this crazy psycho doctor man so much. He would be so good with you too, he would have all the necessary equipment and such when you start to show certain side effects, already have his bed prepared for you to nap in if you get tired. He has many notebooks dedicated to you and how your condition, mental and physical, has changed over the countless years, he even has a section for new things he noticed about you and certain things you told him that he found amusing. Of course the lengths he would go to for you is limitless and he’d have some unwilling test subjects ready for whatever batch of medicine he’s working on next 🚶‍♀️(This is a little hc I thought of literally just now, but I was thinking, since he’s a doctor and all, he probably draws diagrams of the body every now and then, so what if he doodles you sometimes ;( he finds himself drawing your hand with your wedding ring on it!!)

I’m so sorry about your power! I would be so scared, I hope you’re okay now 💖 I am doing fine, I hope you are too my dear boo boo 🎐 anon 🫶🥰 GIVING YOU MORE HUGS AND KISSES SMOOCH!!! ILY!! ENJOY YOUR WEEK TOO!! As for me, I just hope I’m able to move around this summer. Whenever it’s hot, all my energy is sapped out of my body lol🧍‍♀️

#smooches talks #🎐 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #LOTS OF KISSES FOR U 🎐 ANON ILY <333 #okay but: angst where the medication backfires and u get hurt 🚶‍♀️

[ediblesunflowerlover]

You can't just give up

a/n: heyyy this is my first time doing this so I hope that it isn’t too bad, I got the idea of how y/n and Miguel met from @angel-eyes05“to leave the warmest bed I’ve ever know”, it’s an amazing story and I absolutely loved it and inspired me to write this 

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x spider!fem

Summary: You lose your brother after fighting yet another villain, you lay on the floor accepting death but Miguel saves you and you get a feel for him once you wake up

Notes: I do appreciate criticism, but please don't be a jerk for no reason. A few mentions of suicide and just a P.S this is most likely gonna get a little spicy if I continue to write this, of course a little fluff to balance it all out :)

Word count: 1,111 (Such a fun number lol)

Okay, I'm done talking, Enjoy :D 

I can’t believe he’s dead, my only and last family member. My head reels as I enter the apartment me and my older brother shared, he had finally achieved his dream of becoming a captain. I stumble through the apartment holding my bloody side, while using my other hand to use a wall or table nearby to support myself. I carefully walk into my room, feeling worse by the second. Noah…he worked so hard for that position, only to DIE TWO FUCKING DAYS LATER. I flew into a rage and knocked everything off my dresser and in the process fell to the ground, sobbing. The night he became official captain I cheered him on, his smile, and his eyes were brighter than I had ever seen them before. I didn’t even bother getting up, I just laid there accepting my fate, curling up into a ball. I can’t live on, I don’t want to be by myself. If I die…so be it. I took a deep exhale letting all my burdens go, I closed my eyes and a tear ran along down my face onto the floor. I thought about my brother who took care of me for as long as I can remember, he was always there for me and took on a parental role that he never asked for but he did it well. I can feel my body going numb and my breathing slowing. I felt the air almost lift up around me, my eyes were too heavy to lift up. Is this how it feels to die? I couldn't feel anything, it was silent.

I woke up in an unknown room. I tried to sit up to take a better look at my surroundings except I couldn’t, it hurt too much. I put my arm over my eyes and sigh. “Oh, so you are alive?” I heard a deep voice, there was a tall, muscular man entering the room and making his way over to me. I try to get up once again wincing in pain “Here let me help you”, he says grabbing my arm to help me sit up. “Thanks”, I say snatching my arm away apprehensively. I guess he noticed my hesitancy towards him, “I’ll save you the whole “spiderman backstory”” he said sitting down, “and just tell you I’m Miguel O’hara”. I looked at him for a second, “I’m not sure which is a more important question, where am I or how did I get here?” “Well you are in a medical room at Spider Society HQ” I take a deep breath, this is so confusing, I mean how did I get here in the first place. I look at Miguel again “And as to how I got here?” He remained silent and looked to the side. I’m not sure if I should trust him but I guess I'll give him a chance before I change my mind. There was silence for about a minute or two while I studied him, he had a strong jaw and very defined features. “You know, you shouldn’t just give up when life gets hard” he scolded me with his head still turned to the side. I scoff and roll my eyes, “Well maybe I had a goo-”, he snapped his head toward me “There is no such thing as a good reason to let yourself die” his eyes softened “…even if you lose everything.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, it’s heart wrenching and traumatizing” a tear drops down from my face and I quickly wipe it away “Is that really what he would’ve wanted?” At first I was angry that he would talk about Noah like he knows him, but then I thought about it and it’s not what he would’ve wanted. Noah would’ve given me his classic pep talks he always gave me, if it was right before a big exam, a performance, or a speech debate. “Never give up, and if you won’t do it for yourself” he looks me in my eyes practically staring into my soul, it is now that I notice his brown eyes have hints of red “do it for your brother and the people that need you, whether it’s now or in the future.” I look into his brown-reddish eyes, I’ve only known this guy for 30 minutes so why do I feel so connected to him right now. Like we share the same pain, I could feel us getting closer and closer, he radiates warmth. 

*Knock Knock Knock*

We turned to the door, “Miguel, you in there?” He let go of my hand and cleared his voice while standing up “Come in Peter”, a guy with a 12 o’clock shadow and a pretty big gut enters the room. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you-” he leans over to see around Miguel’s body to look at me, he waves and moves back to his original poster. I can hear him whisper “who’s that?” Miguel looks behind him at me, I give him a half smile. He leads Peter outside and closes the door behind him.

“Sooo who is she?”

“It’s a long story but I think she’d some good with us, and I don’t think it’d be a safe bet to leave her alone”

“Is she joining the society?”

“Are you against it?” It sounded like he was getting defensive 

“I mean not exactly, the more the merrier”

“Okay then, I’ll bring it up to the others and I’ll see if she’ll accept the offer”

“She seems like the head strong type, you really think she’s gonna go for it?”

“...let’s hope so”

Hmm a Secret Society, how interesting. Miguel enters the room and sits back down next to me. 

“Sorry about him he-”

“Is he in this secret society of yours?”

“Huh?” he seemed taken aback “How?”

“Every spiderman has their strengths, I just happen to have heightened senses, specifically hearing and sight. Although you also have to pay with something” I chuckle

“And what’s that?”

“I have no sense of smell, I will never get to experience what it’s like to smell a freshly baked apple pie” I sigh pretending to be sad

“You don’t seem too sad about it”

“Well that’s the thing, you can’t truly miss something you’ve never had, I mean for all I know I could hate the smell of apples” I smile at him

He just looked at me, not in disgust but in almost awe 

“Now tell me more about this secret society of yours” 

“It’s a lot”

“It’ll distract me from the pain” I say fanning myself “Woe is me”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

[liloinkoink]

OH MY GOD LEW I HAD A HORRIFYING IDEA WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF REN AND MARTYN WERE WANDERING AND CAME ACROSS GRIAN IT WOULD BE ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL REN SPOTS SCAR SCREAMING (also hi yes i became obsessed with your au just yesterday how dare you (thank you bee for sketching that and letting me find it eheheh treebark fr))

seeing my name at the start of this made me feel like that WHO KNOCKED OVER MY ONIONS. YOU. cat thank you

glad to hear you’re enjoying lamplight! bee’s sketch is rlly cool, i’m a huge fan of it! happy to hear you liked it as well!

i don’t mind saying this, it’s spoilers i guess but it’s pretty obvious i feel just from how lamplight is set up—i don’t plan on having Grian and Martyn reunite until Ren’s body is restored. i want that moment to be Martyn and Ren only, as with most of their journey

that said, ive thought abt Martyn and Grian reuniting while Ren is fire before. what interests me most about it is Scar wouldn’t recognize Ren—for one, no one really knows what happened to Ren, and as far as common mythos is concerned, Ren is simply dead.

Scar has no reason to assume he knows who this fire is, let alone that it’s Ren, who didn’t really have any public link to fire. it would depend entirely on him figuring it out based on what Martyn says about his god and Ren’s open hostility toward Scar

which… Scar is dumb but he isn’t stupid, and Scar is oblivious except when he’s not. the most fun part of writing this theoretical scene, considering lamplight is mostly a Martyn pov story, would definitely be stringing the reader along about whether or not Scar realizes who Ren is (bc no matter what, Scar will act as tho he doesn’t)

another fun detail about this to me is the fact Ren not only recognizes Scar, but is the only one who knows Scar is a god. even Grian doesn’t know that! which looks really bad, at least to Ren. Ren’s truly experiencing a psychological horror in this moment—the god who destroyed his home is here, in front of the paladin he loves so much, masquerading in the benign and harmless form of the rather bumbling friend of a lost friend, and there’s nothing Ren can do to warn Martyn he’s significantly more dangerous than he seems

also Scar’s charm speak doesn’t work on Ren or Martyn which adds something really funny to the whole thing to me

#oink asks #lamplight au #desntduo #this was perhaps a longer response than you wanted but i’ve. i’ve thought about it

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Pitch Meeting

[Should be experienced imagining the voice and acting of Ryan George, who is linked to above.]

Producer Guy: So, you have a musical for me?

Screenwriter Guy: Yes sir, I do. It’s called The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals because the main character, Paul Matthews, doesn’t like musicals.

PD: He doesn’t?

SG: No, he can’t stand them. Watching one is his own personal hell. And that isn’t a throwaway quirk, it comes up several times and is integral to the plot.

PD: Isn’t the protagonist typically meant to be relatable to the audience?

SG: Yeah.

PD: And won’t the audience be full of people who like musicals?

SG: Yeah.

PG: Bit of a weird choice, but okay then. So other than the musical thing, what’s Paul like?

SG: Oh, not much.

PG: What?

SG: Yeah, he’s the most average, boring, white middle-class American everyman you can imagine. No desires, ambitions or hobbies; he never expresses much passion for anything except things he doesn’t like. He has an office job at a company that’s so generic, I didn’t even think of what it does. He’s not particularly nice either. Like, when his best friend Bill asks him to help him reconnect with his teenage daughter Alice, he refuses to avoid his own discomfort despite having nothing else to do. And when his other friend Charlotte right next to him is clearly upset because she’s in a miserable marriage to a neglectful, cheating husband, he doesn’t bother to comfort her.

PG: Isn’t the protagonist typically meant to be likeable and interesting?

SG: Yeah, but we’re not gonna do that I decided. So another important character is Emma Perkins, this barista Paul has a crush on. She’s the only reason he keeps going to this crappy café.

PG: And what’s her deal? Is she kind and friendly to balance out Paul being so apathetic?

SG: No, she’s also rude, but she has better reasons for it. She hates her job and has really annoying, mean coworkers her boss favours over her, who just won’t shut up about how great musical theatre is. They all love it so much that there’s a new rule that if they get tipped, they have to perform a whole song and dance routine.

PG: But working for every tip negates the point of a tip!

SG: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I said, it's a crappy café.

PG: I gotta say, though, you’re presenting musical fans in quite a negative light there. They are the people whose money we want.

SG: (aside) You haven’t seen anything yet. Anyway, Emma and Paul bond over not liking things and people - it’s cute. But then at the end of the day, a meteor crashes down in a big storm and lands right in the town’s theatre, which is putting on a musical. And the meteor turns out to have evil alien life inside it!

PG: Oh my God. What happens to everyone in that theatre?

SG: Well, it’s offstage, but we find out later that the alien works by taking over your body like a virus and killing you to use you as a vessel for its hive mind. So that probably happens to most of the people. Bill and Alice get out okay, but a lot of people are dead now.

PG: This escalated very quickly!

SG: Yeah, this show does that. It’s a horror comedy; it’s like a sitcom where anyone could brutally die. But here’s the thing: the alien hive mind makes the Infected sing and dance like they’re in a musical, so all the fun, catchy songs are actually it controlling people’s corpses. That’s how everyone knows the lyrics and can move in time to music nobody’s playing. You only hear the music if you’re Infected. And it spreads really fast, so this mindless musical obsession could literally destroy humanity!

PG: That’s so dark and tonally dissonant. But I have concerns about the villain essentially being a living musical, in a musical. Won’t that kinda alienate the audience? As in ‘make them not like it’, not ‘make them aliens’.

SG: No, it’ll be fun. The first song after the intro is very entertaining. There’s this really funny part with a silly, crazy homeless guy.

PG: Ah, yes. Making fun of the homeless and mentally ill is tight!

SG: Not what I… (moving on) and, and, we can cleverly parody musical tropes. For example, Paul’s boss tries to get him to sing an “I Want” song because the Hive want him to be the protagonist of their ‘musical’, but he doesn’t want anything so he’s a terrible protagonist.

PG: Oh, that was on purpose! I thought you were just a bad writer.

SG: Yeah, no, I’m setting up an arc. So the Hive take over most of the town - which is on a island and the bridge gets pulled up, so there’s no way off - including Emma’s café. But she escapes with Paul and they meet his friends from work, plus this obnoxious asshole Charlotte’s cheating with called Ted, who's the worst. But then the Infected police show up, including Charlotte’s husband Sam. She begs him to snap him out of it ‘cause she still loves him, but he pulls a gun on her.

PG: Oh no.

SG: Fortunately, Ted knocks him out.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But he hits him too hard and his brain falls out!

PG: Wait, even putting aside how unlikely it is that his flesh and skull were broken open wide enough that his whole brain could fall out, isn’t the brain… attached? That’s a very implausible injury.

SG: I’m gonna need you to get all the way off my back about that.

PG: Well, okay then.

SG: So Charlotte has a mental breakdown and Emma suggests they go to her biology professor, Henry Hidgens. He’s an eccentric doomsday survivalist who somehow predicted this exact incredibly specific apocalyptic situation and has a huge house with top-notch security. And he's a biologist, so he might be able to study the alien infection if they bring him Sam.

PG: It’ll be hard to get there safely with the town swarming with alien zombies, especially carrying a dead man.

SG: Actually, it’ll be super easy, barely an inconvenience.

PG: Oh, really?

SG: That part just happens offstage.

PG: So they get to shelter?

SG: They do, so they start to relax for a bit. Except Charlotte, she’s dying inside and stays with her tied-up dead husband. Bill and Ted have this funny argument where Bill threatens to kick Ted’s head, which, you know, is a stupid threat.

PG: It is?

SG: Yeah, because you’d have to kick really high and most people can’t do that.

PG: I thought you would just push the person to the ground with your arms and then kick their head. Most people can do that.

SG: True.

PG: And it would be highly effective. You could kill someone that way.

SG: (getting an idea) You could, couldn’t you? (writes that down)

PG: What are you writing?

SG: Nevermind. Emma and Paul have a nice heart-to-heart where she reveals her backstory. Turns out she had a sister, Jane, who lived a great life, dream job, true love, kid, everything, while Emma left home at eighteen and travelled around being aimless and irresponsible. But then last year Jane died and that’s why Emma came back and is studying, to try to do something with her life now that Jane can’t anymore.

PG: Aw, that’s sad.

SG: Even a zany horror sitcom has its serious moments. So she and Paul bond some more, until Charlotte and Sam burst in.

PG: Wait, what?

SG: The Hive made her think he’d come back to life and manipulated her into letting him go. Then he just killed her.

PG: Dick move.

SG: Massive dick move! So now Ted gets beaten up by the possessed corpse of the woman he loves, after the last things he said to her were mean because he’s the worst. Fortunately, Hidgens kills the zombies.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But Alice calls Bill and she’s under attack at her school!

PG: Oh no.

SG: If Bill goes to save her alone he’ll almost definitely die. But Paul volunteers to go with him.

PG: So he won’t be nice to his friends in everyday life, but he will risk his life for them?

SG: Precisely, this is really bringing out his inner hero. But when they get there, Alice is already Infected. She sings a whole song about what a terrible father Bill is and he's so guilty that he failed her that he tries to kill himself with the gun they brought. Fortunately, Paul takes the gun off him.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But he drops it on the ground, so Alice just shoots Bill herself.

PG: Oh my God! Why did he let go of the gun? That was a very poor decision!

SG: Extremely poor, yes. Alice nearly kills Paul too, but the army rescue him. Specifically this secret special unit that I made up called PEIP that deals with supernatural stuff like magic and aliens that most people don't know about. They're ordered to kill everyone to keep the weird stuff secret, but the leader, General John MacNamara, is a good person so he doesn't do that.

PG: So he lets Paul live?

SG: He does, and he sends a helicopter to take him and Emma off the island.

PG: Paul tells him about Emma?

SG: Uh-huh. He realizes that he's in love and finally does want something: to be with her.

PG: Cool, cool, cool.

SG: Meanwhile, Hidgens and Emma are studying the Infected. Emma theorizes that if the brain of the Hive is in the meteor, they could take out all of them by destroying it.

PG: Is that true?

SG: There's no reason it couldn't be! But Hidgens changes his mind about the Hive being evil, knocks Emma out and ties her and Ted up. Then he opens his house's gates because he wants the Hive to get in.

PG: Why does he think the Hive isn't evil?

SG: Well, he's thinking that since humans are so immoral and harmful we're killing the planet and each other constantly anyway, but the Hive will bring peace and harmony. And he loves musicals.

PG: Oh, he does?

SG: Yeah, he's even written his own awful one, and he plays a song he wrote and composed to lure the Infected inside. He's willing to die and doom humanity for his twisted, irrational love of musical theatre.

PG: Really slamming your audience again. Hey, why wasn't he at the musical the theatre just put on?

SG: I don't know.

PG: Fair enough.

SG: So Paul comes back, frees Emma and Ted and they escape, but General MacNamara kills Ted because the soldiers are Infected now!

PG: And this is all onstage?

SG: Yes.

PG: Then it's gonna be hard to get past a division of fit, armed zombie soldiers who can survive not even having brains in their heads.

SG: No, it isn't. Emma shoots MacNamara in the shoulder and that makes him just give up.

PG: What about all the other soldiers?

SG: Please ignore them.

PG: Okay.

SG: So Paul and Emma get to the helicopter and think they've made it, but the pilot is Emma's mean coworker from earlier and makes them crash.

PG: Why is she Emma's coworker and not just the army pilot, if the Hive got there first?

SG: Because.

PG: That works. Are they okay after the crash?

SG: Paul is, but Emma's too hurt to walk. Paul says they should find a boat -

PG: Wait. There are boats? Or does Paul just think there might be?

SG: I have more notes on this town and it has a boating society, so there are boats.

PG: Then why haven't the Infected got in the boats and gone to mainland? Shouldn't they have done that by now?

SG:

SG: ...You're right. I didn't think about the implications. Oh my God, I didn't think about it!

PG: Whoops!

SG: Whoopsie! So anyway, Emma tells him her theory and he goes to blow up the meteor with a grenade.

PG: But then he could die, and right when he actually cares about something. That is heroic. Do he and Emma have a touching maybe-last goodbye?

SG: Kinda. They try to kiss, but she coughs up blood in his face. The Hive knows Paul is coming and lets him in order to infect him. He does his best to resist its control, but it makes him sing and dance and have an existential crisis.

PG: Oh no.

SG: But at the last possible moment, he pulls the pin, blows up the meteor and saves the day!

PG: Wow, wow, wow. Wow.

SG: So we cut to two weeks later. Everyone else in the town is dead, but Emma was saved by the army reinforcements and she's getting out of hospital on the mainland and ready to start a new life.

PG: Well, at least she survived and the Hive is defeated. That's what Paul wanted. But it's still a shame he died.

SG: That's what Emma thinks... until he walks in!

PG: (excited) What?

SG: Yeah, he's okay and he gives her this soft smile and she's the happiest we've ever seen her and they hug.

PG: That's such a sweet ending. After everything they've been through, getting to be happy together feels earned, and I really have warmed up to them both.

SG: And then Paul starts singing.

[Beat. Producer Guy's relieved expression turns to confusion, shock, sorrow and horror as he processes that information and its implications. He stares at Screenwriter Guy, betrayed.]

PG: But that means he's... (SG nods, proud of himself) and Emma's theory was wrong, and... (SG nods again) the Hive is on the mainland now, so the entire world is... (SG nods again) oh, a very depressing ending!

SG: Set to a very cheerful song! The cast even stay in-character for the bows; the Infected bow while Emma screams and cries and begs the audience for help before being dragged away. So what do you think?

PG: That ending will haunt my dreams. But as creative as the premise is and as emotional as it gets later on, I don't know if this will be that big of a hit. The tone changes so fast and jarringly, the main characters aren't that likeable at first and it all just seems pretty niche. And it spends so much time mocking its own genre and audience. I can see it becoming a cult classic, but I don’t think you’ll be able to launch a series with it or anything.

#this is probably way too detailed because i don't know how to edit #i also genuinely didn't realize the boat plot hole until now #emma's 'you were right. i didn't think about the implications. oh my god i didn't think about it!' #tried to get ryan's distinctive dialogue style right #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #team starkid #starkid #pitch meeting #pitch meetings #ryan george #long post #very long post

[pedropascalsx]

the joel miller diaries; diary entry #43.

joel miller x f! reader

summary: you update your diary after a long day hiking with cramps.

warnings: brief mention of masturbation, some pining, angst, mention of arguments, mentions of periods, mentions of cramps, brief mention of forced reproduction.

rating: mature.

word count: 950.

a/n: no physical description for reader. idk what this is. i’ll make this occasionally. it’s fun to write sometimes.

It’s one of those days, everything has feeling, and the only thing worth craving is numbness.

My body is betraying me, it’s punishing me for not giving it a child. The cramps are unbearable, and I feel dirty no matter how many times I scrub myself clean. Well the best I can, when he lets us stop.

We haven’t really stopped moving in days, and when we do it’s to sleep or eat and he’s clearly unhappy that I keep drifting off to find somewhere to wash myself. It feels like a sick joke that my body is doing this to me… I’ve heard that some people don’t menstruate anymore, that the living conditions, lack of decent nutrients and just poor health have made their bodies stop their cycles.

But it’s like clockwork for me, no respite, the second week of every month it comes. I heard someone tell Joel that people are hunting down those who can still reproduce; see if a new generation is immune to the hell we live in. I doubt it. I don’t know if it’s true, but he didn’t let us stop walking for days after hearing that. We walked and walked until the only thing that surrounded us was the wind and the cold hard ground we were walking on.

I think it frightened him, he doesn’t ask too many questions, but I think he worries for the girl now. Even more so than before. Me? Maybe not so much. But I think if they came for us, he’d protect us both.

*

We walked until she threw a tantrum, they argued and then they both sulked. He reluctantly let us find shelter and mumbled angrily about her attitude and her lack of respect. She didn’t mince her words, nor did she mumble, she called him some things that made him scowl harder than usual. And then he boiled some water and dumped in a bunch of rice. She was less miserable with some food in her tummy and so was he. She fell asleep with her head resting against my shoulder. I let her stay like that for a bit longer than he liked, but she rarely lets anyone provide her with comfort and it was just nice to give her a cuddle for a change.

We’re spending tonight in a cottage, abandoned of course, I can’t imagine who lived in this place before it all started. It’s the middle of nowhere and the wind makes the whole structure shake. It feels like one particularly strong gust would just blow the whole thing away.

But still it’s safe. It was empty and Joel was able to push a bookcase in front of the door… not that anyone would be disturbing us here.

She’s sleeping in the bedroom, all sprawled out and hopefully dreaming of nice things. She usually wakes in a good mood after sleeping on something that isn’t just solid ground, so I'm hopeful tomorrow will be less stressful.

Joel will sleep on the ratty sofa and I’ll take the floor. Which I don’t mind. The cramps aren’t easing up and I don’t want to disturb him by making the springs creek everytime I attempt to find a comfortable position. One I’m doubtful I’ll find.

He's reading a book right now, something he picked up off of the bookshelf and just threw himself into. It would have been nice to have talked today, I needed my voice to be heard, but I am not in the business of risking this. I don’t know how long he’ll deal with a straggler. God, if it wasn’t for Ellie, I’d still be stuck by myself… or I'd be dead or even worse. I could be holed up in some sick factory in which I’m forced to procreate with a stranger. Forced to give up something that is not for the taking and have my whole sense of self worth be evaluated on just how fertile I am. Not that I have a lot of self worth these days.

*

I kind of like the way he snores… is that weird? It’s oddly comforting. I think it’s really because I don’t like the silence. I was alone for longer than I can calculate and silence just reminds me of the hell I was living. Things are better now though. I think.

The cramping on the other hand… I want to cry out. I want my pain to be known because I’ve convinced myself that it will make it better. It won’t. But it would be nice to give into one of the two urges that are violently racking my body right now.

Screaming out loud in pain or pleasure. I learned that touching myself there helps when the pain is particularly bad. The rush of pleasure usually lingers long enough to help me sleep, but I’m not alone anymore. And I know what I'd think about. I know who I’d think about and I don’t think I’d be able to look him in the face tomorrow morning when he grumbles something to me about how a cup of coffee would fix everything right now.

Maybe there’s some instant coffee in the pantry, it wasn’t well stocked and I’m pretty sure most of what was left in there is bad. But instant coffee tends to last for years and years. I’ll search for some before he wakes up, when there’s enough light filtering through the windows to make it easier to see.

And for now, I’ll accept my fate. No sleep tonight. No relief tonight. But at least I have the sounds he unknowingly lets fill the air to keep my company.

And maybe tomorrow will be better.

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