#safety pins for imperfections

[sleeplessvalley]

maybe if I wash my hands enough I can wash away all the uncertainties. all the anxieties, all the hesitations, all the doubt.

wash it out, purge it entirely, and pick it back up when it's safe.

#safety pins for imperfections #boy I sure am having a moment. might draw something for this later idk

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

Imagine the streaming series true crime doc about the "Butcher of Baltimore". The Moriyamas are fine with it cause it mostly leaves them out of the story, the doc makes it sound like Nathan and his evil henchmen were independent criminals and not acting for the Moriyamas, and pins the majority of the crimes done by them on Nathan leaving out that he was often acting on their behalf. And paints the narrative they want. The only mention of the Moriyamas is that Tetsuji wanted Neil to join the Ravens when he was a kid because he saw potential in this talented child and if he had been able to he could have "protected this poor child from his monsterous father" (queue the Moriyamas positioning themselves as brave, kind and generous) but Neils mother ran off with him before the "kind and generous" offer could be finalized cause Neil and Mary had had enough of Nathans abuse (and not cause the Moriyamas were gonna buy Neil as property as well). The FBI are happy with the doc cause it's copaganda that makes them look great and competent, the good guys beating an uncomplicated villain (to be clear Nathan is an uncomplicated villain but the FBI are NOT the good guys), the Hardfords are totally absent from the series.

Neil Josten starts trending cause even non exy fans are FACINATED and the press is lapping it up.

It becomes one of the top streamed docs cause the details are so lurid and horrific and the fact that the son of the Butcher is on his way to being a sport celeb.

Neil was contacted by the true crimes doc but he refused to participate.

He hates the inaccurate way they portray his mom as someone who had no idea of the kind of monster she married until it was too late who was fleeing from her horrible husband who she had "loved" for her and her sons safety (ignoring that it was an arranged marriage between crime families and her hands are as bloody as any other gangster. It also ignores that she was abusive and imperfect too and makes her the perfect victim. The only accuracy was that she wanted Neil alive.

Coach Hernandez was contacted too but he refused to participate, though a bunch of other Millport teachers and former students/ teammates happily jump on board. Sadly some Palmetto staff and students do as well and other teams who've faced the Foxes do as well (not the Ravens [too risky] or the Trojans[to honorable])

The Foxes REFUSED to participate and they also REFUSED to watch this tripe and shut down anyone who tries to talk to them about it.

Also the only real accurate bit of the documentary is Neil's ordeal in Baltimore and its cause it's taken from his confession. Queue people gaping at Neil for the next few weeks knowing what the poor guy had to endure

#aftg #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #nathan wesninski #the foxes #the foxhole court #tfc #nora sakavic #all for the game #prompt #please someone write this fic id be so happy

[breannasfluff]

“Mr. Hero! Come on!”

“Ravio, it’s freezing out. It’s winter! There’s snow!”

“Yes, but you need to see this!”

Legend stands, hands on his hips, and glares at the merchant. “I have to put on snow clothes.”

“Just boots!” Ravio has a full robe; he’s got no room to talk. 

“I’ll freeze.”

“I’ll walk close to you.”

With an exasperated sigh, the vet goes to pull on his boots. Why he gives into Ravio’s whims is a mystery. Certainly not because he likes him, or anything. 

The nighttime chill is enough to make him lunge for the safety of the house. 

“Oh no,” Ravio says, catching his hand. “Come on, buddy. We don’t have to go far.”

Legend is distracted from escape by the feel of his fingers twining in Ravio’s. If he rubbed his thumb, he could trace the merchant’s knuckle. He doesn’t. 

Ravio pulls him down the slope of the house and up the hill on the other side. He doesn’t let go of the vet’s hand, even when he slips. 

Panting, they both make it to the top. 

“Now look at this!” Ravio drops his hand and throws his arms wide, spinning in a circle. He’s a showman, through and through. 

Legend looks around. The faint moonlight sets the snow glittering. The air holds the unique smell of snow and winter; so hard to pin down. And overhead—

Oh. This is what Ravio wanted him to see. 

The sky is a blanket of stars; more than he normally sees. Maybe the cold of the air makes them more visible. Maybe he just appreciates them more when he’s freezing. 

The merchant moves right up behind him and wraps his arms around Legend, who stiffens. 

“Relax, you’re shivering.” Warm hands wrap over his chilled ones. “Look at it all. Isn’t it amazing?”

It is. Yet somehow, Legend finds himself focusing not on the sky, but on Ravio. His steady breaths against his back. The way his robe pools over their hands, keeping away the chill. 

The vet tilts his head back, resting it on Ravio’s shoulder. The merchant still stares at the stars. It could be a trick of the light, but they seem to reflect the sky. Constellations caught in his eyes, framed by long lashes. A world Legend could get lost in, if only he let himself. 

Ravio looks down, which isn’t very far with Legend’s head on his shoulder. “So? What do you think?” His breath is warm as it brushes the vet’s cheek. 

“It’s…beautiful.” Ravio is beautiful. And amazing, and caring, and charming. Annoying and stubborn in turns. Flawed, yet perfect in the imperfection. 

“I know some stories about the constellations. They were harder to see in Lorule, but we share some common ones. Did you know I chose my name from one of those tales?”

Only…Legend isn’t listening. He tuned out the words and focuses only on the merchant’s lips. Plush and full, pulled into a pretty pout as he realizes the vet isn't listening. 

Maybe it’s the stars glittering overhead. Maybe it’s the winter chill, pushing rational thought from his mind. Maybe Legend wanted this for a long time but never acted. 

Because when Ravio tilts his head closer to ask a question, Legend turns his head as well and captures his lips in a kiss. 

The merchant freezes. 

He’s not letting this stop him. Legend spins in his arms and grabs his shoulders. To keep him from fleeing? To pull him closer?

Then he presses their lips together again, gentler. 

Ravio…softens, molding his lips back. 

When Legend pulls back, the stars are caught in Ravio’s gaze. And maybe they’re caught in the vet’s too, because the merchant says, “I love you.”

This is what the stars must feel like to touch. Uncontainable, yet burning warm. Filled with magic and mystery. Beauty and home, all wrapped up in one. 

Legend leans in for another kiss and forgets about the cold. 

#ravioli propaganda continues #look it's not even wb #ravioli #loz ravio #albw ravio #ravio x link #raviolink #ravio zelda #lu ravio #ravio #linked universe ravio #ravio x legend #lu legend #linked universe legend #ravioli ship #albw #albw link #loz albw #breannasfluff #my writing #linkeduniverse #linked universe

[thexxxthdoctor]

Highest Honour

**WARNING - Over 18s Only**

Summary: You and the Doctor have saved a planet from destruction, earning the highest honour their culture offers. You soon learn that this more than just tea at the palace…

Short story with the 10th Doctor and female reader. Features consensual sex, vaginal sex, public sex, masturbation, oral sex, anal play, cum play, fantasy, light spanking, voyeurism.

Against all odds, in the face of deadly threats and pure terror, he had done it again. Another planet, another people saved by this man, this Doctor. Your Doctor.

He reached his hand out to you, helping you to your feet as the remnants of the invading fleet burned in the atmosphere above you. The electricity of his touch sent your mind at once back to the first time his fingers had gripped yours, pulling you away from a Dalek’s blast, saving your life and countless more before rewarding you for your help with a trip in the impossible blue box he adoringly called his TARDIS. As you stood, now, your adrenaline fuelled eyes meeting the sad, ancient depths of his own, you wanted him even more than you had that first time; his pin striped suit torn and battered, his tie askew and the sweat of his exertions cradling his thin face in perfect imperfection.

“You were brilliant today,” he told you, his voice warm and sincere, “thank you.”

Until meeting him, confidence was not something you had felt flow through you, but he had helped you see the strength inside you, and draw on it, and alongside him you had saved worlds together, facing down galactic warmongers and timeless threats. You and your Doctor. And yet, despite all you had faced, what still reduced you to putty was a compliment from this man you yearned for and who, you knew, would never even think to look twice at you, at least, not in that way.

“It was nothing,” you stuttered, your nerves overflowing, infuriatingly, your eyes pulling away from his for fear of them betraying all you felt and wanted to say to him. Instead, you stayed silent, cursing yourself for your cowardice and hoping to just get back quickly to the TARDIS, where you could retreat to the safety of your room and put the fingers now clasping his to better use, giving yourself the pleasure you wanted to feel from him. You’d lost count of the times you had watched, out of his sight, concealed by coral pillars as he stood lovingly by his Time Ship’s console, rubbing yourself to muted frenzy, jealously wishing that the touch with which he deftly operated the controls was working its magic on you instead. You felt foolish and at yourself for being envious of a machine, but deep down you too knew that the ship was far more than just a tool, and that the Doctor’s bond with it was greater than any he would ever allow himself to feel with you, or any of those that had come before you. Your feelings could only ever be fantasy, but if fantasy was all you could have, you resolved to enjoy yours to the full, as you approached the battered blue box, standing outside the entrance to the congressional chamber of Planet Carnalia. Soon, goodbye’s would be bidden and your Doctor would whisk you away to new adventures, but your mind, and fingers would spend the journey to wherever, in ecstatic reverie.

“Doctor, wait!”

The voice belonged to Torlosia, the Planet’s leader, and you both turned to face her, as she hurried to catch up with you. Dressed in flowing robes of red and gold, her turquoise skin glowing in the silver light of the twin moons above, her beauty seemed to reach inside you, demanding your attention, and you felt the tingling of a blush on your cheeks as she stood before you, smiling in gratitude.

“Doctor, we cannot thank you enough, both of you,” her glance to you deepening the redness in your face, “thanks to you, our people will live and thrive again.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Prime Minister,” the Doctor grinned, enthusiastically, “all in a day’s work! Now, we really must be getting off.”

“Where to this time?” asked Torlosia.

“Anywhere,” you answer, trying both to impress him and make sure he didn’t suggest it was time to get you home to your own time. “How about Saturn?”

“Nah, it’s boring,” the Doctor answered, “and anyway, Saturn’s not it’s real name.”

“Oh?” you quizzed, “what’s it’s real name, then?”

“Trevor.”

“Trevor?”

“Yeah…”

“The Planet Trevor?”

“Well, why’s ‘Saturn’ any better?” he said defensively before grinning at you, “I suppose we could go and ask which they prefer, if you like?”

You smiled your acquiescence and turned to bid farewell to Torlosia, only for her to step forward in earnest.

“Before you do that,” she began, “we cannot allow you to just slip away after saving so many of our lives. Not without showing you the depths of our gratitude, first.”

“Oh, really, there’s no need for all that,” protested the Doctor, “and I’m not sure my friend here would really be into all that…”

“Into what?” you ask, innocently.

Torlosia’s hand reached out to stroke your face, butterflies setting loose in your stomach at her touch. “Our very highest honour,” she answered simply. Turning back to the Doctor, she reached up to stroke his cheek, too, a glint of what looked like seduction in her eye, scattering the butterflies in you and replacing them with a pang of jealousy. “One we have afforded the Doctor and several of his other friends in times past, when their help has warranted it…”

“Other friends?” you interrupted, the familiar pang of jealousy you always felt at mention of your Doctor’s past companions, stabbing at you. “So, these ‘other friends’ have been up for this ‘highest honour’ have they, Doctor?”

You spoke the words accusingly, your eyes burrowing into his, and he shrugged, as flustered as you could ever recall seeing him.

“Well…,” he began, but the usual cacophony of words that followed didn’t come, and, for a moment, you almost thought he looked embarrassed, before Torlosia came to his rescue.

“Of course,” she answered, with a strange eagerness, “our gratitude to the Doctor always extends to the friends he relies on so much, and we insist on honouring them too. It would be our pleasure to extend those honours to you… our deep, and lasting pleasure.”

Her eyes were magnetic, her voice as sweet as honey, and in that second, you couldn’t imagine turning down any honour this beautiful woman desired to bestow on you. The Doctor though, looked nervous, as if for once in his centuries long life, words would not come to his rescue.

“It’s incredibly kind of you, Prime Minister,” he began, softly, “it’s just…”

“The Cabinet is assembled, Doctor,” she gently interrupted, “the choice, of course, is yours.”

With that, she turned and walked past the TARDIS, down the passageway, into the chamber. You looked up at the Time Lord, whose face had turned pale.

“We should go,” he whispered.

The expression he wore was one you hadn’t seen on him before, even when facing down Cyber armies and Sontaran squadrons, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” you asked, the desire to follow Torlosia through the tunnel almost overwhelming you. “What harm can their ‘highest honour’ do us? A cup of tea with the planet’s rulers, a handshake for the cameras and maybe a badge and a souvenir pen, if we’re lucky. We’ll be back in the TARDIS and off to Satur…, sorry, Trevor, before you can say ‘photo opportunity’.”

He looked down at you with his big, ancient eyes, the smile you loved so much beginning to break through his nervousness.

“You really want to go through there, don’t you?”

“What? Tea with the Prime Minister?” you replied, reciprocating his smile, “who wouldn’t?”

He reached out and closed his fingers around yours, and began to slowly lead you through the tunnel through which Torlosia had vanished.

“Tea,” he mused, as you strode. “In your culture, everyone wants to go out for tea all the time. If you saved the Earth, and we’ll probably end up doing that sooner or later, you’d likely get an invitation for tea with the King, or dinner at the White House because eating and drinking together is the ultimate expression of social nicety and civilisation and sharing that with the people in charge is a huge honour. But that’s not the case everywhere in the universe…”

“No?” You asked, intrigued. “So, what are some of the other universal niceties, then?”

“Well,” he began, his vocabularic fluidity returning, “on Decahedron Twenty-Three, they have an honour’s ceremony every year, where recipients all stand on a stage and blow their noses in unison.”

“What?”

“It’s a little odd at first but you soon get used to it,” the Doctor explained, “or at least you would do, if the people of Decahedron Twenty-Three didn’t have twenty-three noses each… but even that’s better than Frectagrangion Twelve…”

“Why, what happens on Frectagrangion Twelve?”

“Let’s just say that while people on Earth like to get around a table and eat together, their social interactions are planned more around the other end of proceedings.”

“Oh, God, you don’t mean...?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, without elaborating further. “But the point I’m trying to make is that this is going to be a bit different to tea and a handshake.”

“So, what’s it going to be?” you asked, your hand gripping tightly to his as you approached an ornate alcove at the end of the tunnel and stepped through, the butterflies in your stomach unleashed anew, as you took in the sight before you.

You and the Doctor emerged into the centre of a dark, cavernous auditorium, the polished metal floor you stood on, humming with a vibrant energy and slowly rotating clockwise. Before you could open your mouth to ask where you were, a voice came from the shadows around you.

“You have chosen to join us,” the voice was Torlosia’s. “We are most gratified.”

Far above you, lights at the top of the chamber began to bleed through the darkness, revealing to you and the Doctor the full truth of your surroundings. In a circle around you, draped across grand, bejewelled chairs, were a dozen of the most beautiful people who had ever lain eyes upon in your life, six men, six women, each of them resplendent in nakedness. Torlosia, her finery discarded, stood before the largest seat, the beauty of her perfect, disrobed body demanding your attention and causing you to squeeze tighter still on the Doctor’s hand, your confusion matched only by your arousal.

“Here,” the Doctor whispered into your ear, “the primary social interaction is sex and physical intimacy.”

You gulped hard, words failing you at what you had walked so blindly into.

“She…, she wants to sleep with us?” you asked, forcing your voice through your reluctant larynx.

“Not quite,” the Doctor softly intoned. “They want us to make love. You and me. They’re here to watch. It’s the highest honour on the planet for people being rewarded to make love to an audience of the Prime Minister and Cabinet, while they, er.. they pleasure themselves.”

A gasp, small, uncertain, escaped your mouth, the situation overwhelming you. Making love… fucking the Doctor, was all you had dreamed of for so long, but to an audience? Your mind raced to pluck a sentence, any sentence from the word salad running through it but none would come, until eventually it reached to mask your shock with humour.

“For God’s sake, don’t let Boris Johnson here about this…”

“It’s ok,” the Doctor whispered, your obvious discomfort troubling him, and he stepped forward to address the naked assembly.

“Prime Minister Torlosia,” he began, “I cannot begin to express the gratitude we feel for you offering this honour, but my friend here is of a different culture…”

Once more, your friend was standing up for you, protecting you, and you wanted him all the more for it. These people wanted to honour you and likewise, you yearned to honour him with your all, and to have him reciprocate. This was no alien threat to be protected from, this was your chance for all you had desired. You stepped forward, in front of the man you adored.

“Prime Minister!” you called out. “Though I am from another culture, I was raised to respect and cherish those of others, and travelling with this man has made me appreciate that even more.”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor quizzed, “you don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” you answered him, turning back to the disrobed dignitaries. “I accept this honour and will play my part.”

Torlosia smiled at you with warmth and sincerity, lowering herself onto her grand chair, her hand reaching at once between her open legs, and her fingers beginning to play with her perfectly trimmed pubes.

“Then, let the honours commence,” she said. “Please disrobe and begin.”

Around you, the dozen beautiful figures began settling into position, their eyes on you and the Doctor, and their hands beginning to stroke and caress themselves in eager anticipation of what was to come. You turned back to face the Doctor, who reflected your own nervousness in his face.

“Are you really sure?” he asked again. In response, you gripped the seam of the top you wore, and pulled it over your head, dropping it to the floor as his eyes fell to the bra, cradling your breasts.

“Does that answer your question?” you grinned.

Unleashed from his self-restraint with your words, he returned your grin and began at once to pull at his clothes; the long, brown overcoat crumpling to the polished floor, followed quickly by shoes, suit jacket, trousers, tie and shirt. Slower than him, you kept your eyes on the growing bulge in his shorts as you peeled off your leggings and unhooked your bra to the stifled moans of your audience. Finally, after seconds which felt like millennia, he shed himself of the last piece of material clinging to him and stood before you, naked and yours.

Nervousness and desire were waging war within you, and you stood, hiding your breasts with your arms, and your legs closed, ashamed to go further but desperate to do so, watching your man, your Doctor, standing before you, his nakedness all you had imagined it to be. You could already feel the dampness in your knickers as his eyes feasted on you, his dick hardening in anticipation.

“Don’t be shy,” he softly said. “Show yourself to me.”

“There was an authority in his voice that belied his delicate inflections, and you knew you would obey whatever he asked you to do. Shyness still raging inside, you stood straight and dropped your arms to your sides, allowing him to take in your breasts, the stiffness in your nipples mirroring that in his rapidly thickening cock, as you waited for the command you knew would come next.

And it did.

His hand reached down, his fingers closing around his erection, slowly, gently beginning to stroke it, just as you had fantasised that he might, those nights in the TARDIS, when you dreamed of him climaxing to the thought of you, just as you were doing to him. His eyes moved to your waist, and your blush grew deeper, nervous but yearning for his orders.

“Pull them down.”

His voice was a whisper, almost as delicate in tone as it was hypnotic, and at once, you felt your hands slide up to your hips, your thumbs slipping into the waistband of your underwear as you prepared to obey. Around you, the flurry of stroking, rubbing and fingering from your audience increased and you felt your shyness begin to crumble against a sudden, unexpected, spark of confidence. These people were watching you, enjoying you, and you knew from the look in his eyes that the man who you had ached for, for so long, wanted you. This man. This Doctor. Your Doctor.

You cherished the moment, bending over as you shed yourself of the last of your modesty, relishing the gasps of pleasure from the assembled spectators as you stood straight, naked and ready for the Time Lord. His hand began to move quicker as his eyes drank you in, and you felt your own begin to twitch in response to the throbbing you felt in your freshly exposed crotch.

“Play with it,” he ordered. “Like you do in the TARDIS, when you think I don’t notice. Play with it for me.”

You felt your embarrassment return and threaten to engulf you, the mortification at the knowledge he had seen you, perhaps every time, almost overwhelming. But, the spark of confidence not only remained, it grew, and without any resistance, you moved your fingers to your wet lips, teasing yourself, and him, until your clit compelled you to oblige its call. The movement at the edge of your vision spurred you on as your audience settled deeper into the show, responding to their breaths and squeals by moving your other hand to caress and gently squeeze your breasts. But your focus remained on him, and the joy he was finding in you.

He stepped forward towards you and you kept your fingers moving as he moved closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. Raising his hands to your face, he began to trace your features with the tips of his fingers, the yearning in your pussy deepening with each stroke of his finger. Stepping into an embrace, you felt his hand slide under yours and you let out a grateful moan as his fingers, finally, replaced yours in teasing and massaging your clitoris. You reciprocated, replacing the hand stroking his hard dick with your own, as though the thought of anyone else, even himself, touching it was enough to drive you into a jealous rage. He moaned his appreciation into your ear as you stroked it, working the shaft with your fingers and rubbing your thumb and forefinger over the head, relishing the sensation of his pre-cum, as it leaked onto them.

Repaying the favour, he increased the speed of his own fingers, slipping first one, then another between your lips and deeper, deeper inside you, the sensation building until your spasmed in pleasure, drenching his expert fingers as your body contorted against his and your moaning crescendoed, loudly around the chamber. Your other arm clasping tightly around his shoulders, he leant down, sucking and nibbling on your breasts as his fingers teased out every vestige of joy from your orgasm.

“That’s only the beginning,” he said, as he raised his head back up, and pressed his lips against yours. “Lie down.”

The metal, rotating floor was cold, but you didn’t care. Rolling his overcoat into a makeshift pillow, you allowed him to lay you down, as his mouth went greedily to work on your body. Around you, the moans of the watchers, each one of them pleasuring themselves, feverishly to you, sounded, and you leaned your head back to take them in, gripping your breasts as the Doctor worked his magic on you. Those hands, fresh from exploring your intimate sex, had reached around to lift your hips while his tongue, with the experience of centuries, worked your swollen clit into still another climax. You lifted your head, seeing the aching strain in his dick and knowing he wanted it inside you as much as you did. But it was his turn, and you wanted him somewhere else first.

“Stay on your knees,” you told him, as you wriggled from under him, and though his eyebrow raised, as if he wasn’t used to following orders, he did as you bade, shifting himself to an upright position, his knees on the floor. On all fours, you crept towards him, your arse pressed high into the air, relishing the expectation on his face. His dick was inches from your lips, its sweet scent in your nostrils and you could tell how desperately he wanted you to touch it, so for a mischievous second you let him wait. Running your tongue up and down the shaft, you savoured his groan as you finally opened your mouth wide and took him in. More gasps and moans came from the watching nobility, and from the wide grin on his face as you looked up to him, your mouth full of his cock, you knew he enjoyed the audience as much as you.

He leaned forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and as you relished his taste, you felt his hands spank down on the cheeks of your arse, gripping them in a tight squeeze before releasing them and spanking down again. Your squeal of surprised agreement was muffled in your full mouth, but you wiggled your approval, wordlessly begging for more, and he readily obliged, spreading your cheeks open to the audible appreciation of your admirers and spanking each cheek again.

“Bad girl,” he muttered, as you squealed your appreciation. “Masturbating in my TARDIS?”

You were guilty as charged and you gleefully moaned your admission.

“People who play with themselves in my TARDIS need to be taught a lesson, don’t they?” he said as your left cheek was spanked again. And again, you murmured your agreement, as another spank landed on your right cheek.

“Stay like that,” he ordered, as he pulled himself from your mouth. “Stick it up in the air, higher.”

You pressed your face closer to the ground, pushing your backside up for him, and the audience to admire, as he moved to kneel behind you, easing his still rock hard dick into your soaking wet pussy. Gently at first, then faster and harder, the Time Lord thrust himself into you, his hands reaching up to your breasts as he fucked you. The crowd moaned their approval and you knew they were nearing the edge of an intensity from which nobody could pull back, but this fuck was yours and the Doctor’s to enjoy.

He was thrusting faster, each stroke sending reams of pleasure through your whole body as you felt his hands move again; your tight arsehole clamping around the thumb he pushed into it, while the fingers of his other hand went to work once more on your clit, until you reached the apex of your pleasure once more, screaming out your gratification for the universe to hear.

“Where do you want it?” he asked, desperately, as though he needed your permission to finish. On any other day you would have been happy to feel him cum inside you and relish the sensation of his pleasure within you. But right here, right now, you wanted to taste it, to see it.

“Stand up,” you ordered, and he obeyed, sliding out of you and struggling to his feet, his hand grasping his cock for fear of losing a second of sensation. You knelt in front of him, pushing your sweat glistened breasts together.

“Right here,” you urged him, opening your mouth and inviting his stream onto your tongue.

You watched, your pussy wet and aching, as he pulled himself furiously to his climax, his eyes never leaving yours. With a cry of agonised bliss, the Doctor’s hips buckled and streams of cum flew from his dick, landing hot on your face and tongue, and you grinned in eager appreciation.

Around you both, the assembled thirteen cried out as one, an orgasmic chorus sounding out around the chamber in simultaneous honour of the display before them.

The Doctor, his breathing heavy and his legs shaking reached down to you, pulling you up to your feet before leaning forward and kissing you, his cum passing between your lips as you embraced tightly in post-coital contentment.

You didn’t know how much time passed, but you held tightly to your Doctor, not wanting the embrace to end, for fear it may not happen again. Finally, a voice called from the assembled spectators.

“Thank you both,” Torlosia said.

You turned to see her standing, unsteadily, her hand still gently playing with that perfect pussy, eking out the last throws of her pleasure.

“It was an honour,” the Doctor breathed, heavily.

“The highest,” you confirmed, happily.

“Again, you have our thanks,” Torlosia answered, with a smile. “Farewell on your journeys and go with our love.”

The Doctor gently broke your embrace and stooped down to pick up his discarded clothes, and you followed his lead before walking back down the alleyway towards the TARDIS. The intensity of your experience began to slowly subside and you felt your excitement start to give way to a curious disappointment. The Doctor, you knew, was a private, haunted man, and away from this arena and this culture, you knew you would not experience this side of him again. Could you ever go back, you wondered, to just being friends who travelled together? Your desires relegated once more to feverish but unfulfilled masturbatory fantasy?

Together, you reached the TARDIS and the still naked Doctor fished in the pockets of his crumpled clothes for the key, opening the door for you as you held your own clothes against you in sudden modesty.

“I suppose we’re off to Planet Trevor, then?” you asked, barely hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Sounds like a plan,” the Doctor nodded, “unless…, nah.”

“Unless what?”

“Well, you know we were talking about other planets and other cultures?” he said, a mischievous glint returning to his face.

“Yeah?”

“Well, three or four hundred years ago, the people of Centuri Seven abandoned the concept of clothes. We could pop over there first, if you like? Given we’re already, erm, undressed for the occasion…”

“You grinned and nodded, stepping into the magic blue box with this man. This Doctor. Your Doctor.

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who smut #tardis #the doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #tenth doctor #doctor who fans #sexy content #watch me masturbate #doctor who imagine

[chosetherose]

A gift to celebrate 10 years

If you’ve followed my blog since the beginning then you know I’m not a writer. But one night this summer, for whatever reason, and in true Midnights fashion, I found myself writing instead of sleeping. Inspired by Taylor and Karlie’s love story, I wrote a poem. It’s imperfect! I could rework it forever but I made a goal to share it with you on November 13th.

I hope you enjoy the read, wherever you are.

💕CTR

The Dreams We Choose

By CTR

Eyes open, we dream.

Of past.

Of present.

Of future.

Of chance.

Of will.

Of triumph.

Our minds run faster and further than our feet ever could, sneaking a taste of life unencumbered. How sweet it is!

As we sip the sky, they aim their whispers at us. Morning mug daydreamers! Heads stuck in the clouds! But fear not, darling, their rain can’t reach us up here.

It’s not their fault they can’t see all this sunshine. Like a spider does her web, together we spun these clouds that shield our rays. Safety in opacity, we tell ourselves, as if we could never stumble off the thinning edge.

But we knew these clouds could only protect our sun soaked selves for so long. We vowed that one day we would jump, hand in hand, to share our light with the rest of them. We promised this much, despite our fears.

Of setbacks.

Of cowardice.

Of defeat.

We won’t let them shake us. Guiding us through the deep of night are the dreams we choose.

Of Acceptance.

Of Persistence.

Of Devotion.

It’s time. Blood leaves my hands as my breaths become short. You flash me a consoling smile. I breathe deep. The pins in my fingers retreat.

It’s you and me. Forevermore.

3, 2, 1,

Jump!

#there are two Easter eggs #related to T And K’s namesakes #can you find them?

[k00291970]

My Finished Piece!

I was inspired by the rebellious spirit and DIY ethos of punk fashion. I drew inspiration from the eclectic mix of torn fabrics, safety pins, and bold statements that define punk style, I infused my creation with a unique blend of edginess and personal expression. The vibrant colors, unconventional materials, and deliberate imperfections pay homage to the fearless attitude of punk fashion.

And the back.

And some close ups of different parts of the shirt.

#art #artists on tumblr #design #diy #lsad #watercolor #black metal #books & libraries #punk #post punk #crass #sex pistols #misfits #anarchism #anti facist #fashion #sid vicious #johnny rotten #spider punk #public image ltd #working class #workers rights

[whumpzone]

Please give us Col waking up to Jaffa snuggled up against him in the middle of the night and having lots of FEELINGS about how Linden treats both of them. They both have struggles that others might not, both need extra help and compassion sometimes. Both don’t serve a defined “purpose” but are loved and cared for and valued anyway. Also, lots and lots of snuggles.

enjoyyy :-)

-

Col's first coherent thought upon being woken was I must have left the door open.

On another day he might have jumped straight to fear, and the absence of it was like a soothing balm. Some things were benign. Not everything was because he had messed up. Jaffa just wanted to visit.

He could indeed see a sliver of light coming through his door, which he had closed but not latched, and that Jaffa had made short work of pushing open with all the determination of a lonely cat.

Col always slept curled up, and Jaffa was currently kneading his thighs through the duvet, turning him into a pillow. He liked it. It made him feel special, even though he was sure she'd have gone into Master's room if his door was open.

Once she was satisfied, she flopped against him with a small smushing noise.

The weight of her small body was like a furry anchor, complete with body heat and a heartbeat, all keeping him safe in his dog bed.

Ahh, Jaffa. She wasn't the perfect pet- well, she was, without a doubt, but there were plenty of things she had trouble with. Col had seen her miss a step while going down the stairs, and thank goodness it hadn't been a terrible fall. She had skidded and caught herself quickly enough, but Master was still pleased when Col told him. Her bad eyes again, he said. Hopefully that had taught her to take extra care, or else he might need to put in a stair gate. The thought of Jaffa being locked downstairs made Col's chest feel tight.

Col didn't have bad eyes, but there was plenty of him that didn't quite work as intended. Just like Master helped Jaffa get up on the couch if she was struggling, Master helped Col come back out when his memories started taking him away. He helped Col pick up his cutlery and walk on two legs. God, Col was lucky that his owner was good to animals.

Even though it was self-indulgent, Col liked comparing himself with Jaffa. She was a creature on the receiving end of so much love.

He slowly pushed a hand from the safety of his cocoon and let it sink into her fur. Her purring was so loud, he would have given anything to bottle it and keep it with him forever. It was something he could pin his mind on, so it wouldn't run wild in the long hours of the night.

As he fell back asleep, his stream of consciousness turned from a heavy rainfall to staccato drops. Jaffa, imperfect, damaged, I'm damaged, and she's loved, and I'm, I'm, I'm...

The next morning, Col woke up before his Master. He could tell, since there was no sound of the kettle boiling or the radio playing. On his way to the bathroom he paused, noticing that Master's door was half-open.

Huh. Jaffa had wanted Colton after all.

#asks #anon #pet whump #linden and colton

[madi-is-kinda-cool]

꧁𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥꧂

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲’𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝟏𝟔 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐏!!!! 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 💓💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight is our 5th anniversary. Bucky booked reservations at our favourite restaurant. He said he wanted to get ice cream after dinner and walk on the trail near our shared apartment. Perfect is the only way I can explain the night—the dress I bought tonight.

The dress is in my size, but the measurements aren’t accurate, and I feel sick seeing how it looks on me. It's hanging off my thin body loosely, and straps slip off my shoulder. I stared at myself for 10 minutes in the bathroom mirror, trying to figure out how to make it look decent. I zoned out hard enough to miss the door opening.

“Y/n? Are you okay in here, doll?” I turned in his direction and saw his tall figure in the doorway. “Yeah, I- I’m okay. I’ll be out in a bit” I look back at the mirror and glance over my dress for the hundredth time.

“Baby, look at me” he stepped towards me and gently turned my head to look him in the eyes. “Are you sure you are okay?” I looked at him and couldn’t find the will to make up so excuse; after all, Bucky always can tell when I'm lying.

“No. The dress is so loose on me it looks like I'm wearing an elderly person’s gown,” I admit with a slight giggle the subtle joke. I cover my face with my hands as my eyes start to water. Bucky rushes to wrap his arms around me in a hug that he knows will instantly bring me a comforting warmth. “Oh, doll, don’t say that. I think you look gorgeous in anything you wear, baby. Okay, hold on-” he released me from his hold and speed walked out of the room. “-wait there!” he yelled from down the hall.

I stood there confused, wondering why he had just rushed out of the room. I turn back towards the mirror with a scrunched-up face and stay silent momentarily. I hear Bucky’s sudden footstep on the hardwood floor in the bedroom as he makes his way back into the bathroom. He appears behind me with a handful of safety pins and a big goofy smile. The sight made me throw my head back from laughter at his silly antics.

I look back in the mirror and see him fidgeting with the back of my dress. I don’t bother to ask what he is doing because his face is covered with a look of determination. Once he stops, he places his hands on my shoulders and smiles.

The dress fits me better, and the straps are holding their place on my shoulder. I spin around with a large smile on my face. “Bucky, you fixed it!” I shout and hug him. “Yes, I did, and I secured it so it won’t come apart on its own,” he says proudly, like a little kid showing their parents a picture they painted. I smother his face in kisses and mumble many ‘thank yous’. He pulls back and admires my face, “I love you always. Imperfections and all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@mrs-jbuckybarnes

#bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes

[torapologist]

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto headcanons

idk i do be pondering abt this sometimes // random stuff, mainly their appearance

Gojo is much taller than Geto. When they were first years, they were about the same height, then Gojo got hit with the growth spurt and bullied Geto about it. After high school Gojo is almost 2 meters and Geto is at about 180/185cm. 

Geto takes great pride in the fact that the only imperfection on Gojos face is his crooked nose that he broke. It’s barely noticeable, but he sees the slight bend and makes sure to always mention it in their squabbles.

Satorus nose is more prominent than Sugurus, but his is longer.

It took Shoko nearly two years to force Geto to start doing proper hair care. He would often wear his bun for days and then get pissy when everything got tangled together.

All three of them pierced their ears together with a safety pin at a slumber party. There was a lot of blood and screaming. Geto later decided to stretch his out professionally, but Gojo let his heal up. 

Suguru has always been more muscular than Satoru. Gojo never thought he needed physical strength until he started sparring with Geto and his ego wouldn’t let him be weaker. He is in general much more lean, while Geto is more sturdy. Geto can definitely lift more (without the abuse of power)

Geto has a few tiny tattoos. No one knows where they are. It’s eating Gojo alive.

Gojo thinks Getos long hair is stupid and always tries to get him to cut it on a dare.

The first wrinkles that start to show on Gojos face are his smile lines.

The first wrinkles that start to show on Getos face are his crows feat.

don't repost please

#jjk hcs #jjk headcanons #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk writing #gojo #geto #jjk blurb

[themochiverse]

We All Float | JHS

Banner credits go to: @introgfx (TYSM it looks amazing <3)

[ Part of - The Fear Festival collab hosted by the lovely @taetaecherub and pls check out the other authors works and support 'em!]

➳Pairing: yandere!shapeshifter!hoseok X fem!Reader

➳Genre: Yandere, Horror

➳Warnings: Swearing, strong impacts of graphic depictions of violence & gore ( a ton of it ), exploration of fear, mental/emotional manipulation, mentions of suicide, physical abuse (like broken bones, bruises, scars, etc.), choking, mentions of domestic violence, Agora-phobia (fear of helplessness/embarrassment, etc), bullying, Atelo-phobia [insecurities/ fear of imperfection), Claustro-phobia (fear of tight spaces), auto-phobia/mono-phobia (fear of being alone), hypnotism, blood, more blood [like srsly a lot of it], stalking, supernatural creature (s), illusions, mentions of death, NON-CON touching, NON-CON kissing (Nothing sexual happens)

**Note: This fic has extreme themes of violence and gore, including sensitive topics. If you are NOT comfortable with this, please proceed to not read it.

➳Synopsis:  ‘Come one, come all, for today is the night!’ It’s Halloween, and people in town have start to gone missing. You ought to be cautious but what’s better than mucking around at a haunted house carnival with your friends? Only you should be careful around the one gorgeous looking actor who’s ready to have his horrific fun with you tonight.

➳Word Count: 9.26k+

➳Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL.

We All Float ©Copyright -2022- themochiverse

-All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that uses anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

➳A/N: THIS IS THE MOST I HAVE EVER WRITTEN IN MY LIFE. I hope it's good and I'm super sorry for the delay! Anyway, I hope this gives you a thrill :p

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @xanslii @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94

"Please, someone, somebody help!"

The yell for help disappears every second, and the blood-curdling screams ripple through the forest. The intention to run and seek safety was impossible at this point, especially when she was right at the hands of the masked killer.

Red, abraded cheeks, muddied hands, smothered all over her beautiful ripped, ragged clothes, the wet soil sank into her fingernails, and the painful twist that came from her ankle obviously meant more than a gruesome warning.

She whimpered when the masked person, oh so deadly, inched a foot or two, only to crouch down to her eye level. Their eyes searched hers, fear consuming those innocent orbs that would soon no longer blink.

Her hands moved backwards, pulling her body with all the strength that she had left which had only lasted seconds.

It was a clear, audible scream. A bellowed howl that had a tremendous impact, shaking the nerves of creatures who were hidden, awakened by the high-pitched shrill.

The regular kitchen knife that had now sunk deep through the girl's left hand dripped with fresh blood, coating the reflective silver material. It had gone through the soft ground, her hand pinned painfully when the warm tears sprang out of her begging eyes.

The knife now pulled out, like ripping out a bandage left a silent gasp on the girl's lips. She brought out her bloodied hand to her chest weakly, the red colour continuing to stain the girl's dirtied dress. It was not just bright enough though.

Her sobs were caught in her throat, repetitive broken cries that couldn't escape properly like broken melodies with their broken notes. It was music to him though, a lullaby he could listen to all night and sleep without any disturbance.

He shuffled towards the girl, whose breaths became hot and heavy, the beads of sweat that trickled across her forehead, in other words, a quivering figure.

Or soon be the victim.

He scrutinised the crying girl, her eyes following the knife that was lightly tracing the features of her face.

"I don't know what to do with you," the man paused "should I start here?" The knife smears the blood on her dry lips, slowly getting wet by the substance, as it made its way to the tip of her tongue. A salty, metallic flavour drove through her hard-bitten taste buds, not even close to soothing the sting which had popped everywhere.

"Or here?" This time the knife points to her chest, right at her fast- beating heart. The man puts a little pressure on the spot, digging the tip of the knife into the girl's skin to receive a response from her.

She squeezes her eyes shut out of agony, her hands scraping against the ground, making it even ten times worse.

"P-please." The response is so gentle it makes the man rethink his choices. But. But it seemed so fun, no, it was really fun. This was his excitement, his happiness, his relief, his way of living. No one could stop him, and no one would be able to save this poor little, pathetic girl.

He removes the knife before it drives deeper into the skin. The man groans, standing up as he circles around the helpless girl who could not do anything but cry.

He goes to crouch again, his noxious breath fanning over the girl's ear.

"Do you want to see my face before you die, my little girl?" Her widened eyes meant so much to him that the glee shown on his face would have been horrific to even consider. His hands grab the mask he wore, lifting it off to reveal his true identity.

"Surprise."

The girl's eyes enlarged in a stupor as she scrutinised the man in front of her. Pale cheeks with sharp cheekbones, chocolate hair that fell on their eyebrows, and that scar. That faint scar ran against his eye to his eyebrow. The scar that she created.

"Does this ring a bell?" The man chuckles, his cold hand reaching out to the girl's wounded one. She struggles to move hers away from his but the grip he had on her was immense. And at this state, this girl was soon about to die.

The man hums, his fingers drawing vague circles around the red splotch that was formed on the girl's palm. In a flash, before the girl knew it, a wet thing made her palm sting. She hissed and realised that the wet thing was actually a tongue. Disgusted, she pulls her hand away as it thuds on the ground.

She watched those rosy lips now drowned in crimson red, a deranged smile that made her sick in the stomach when he said the next words.

"I'm sorry, I was just thirsting my hunger."

The man beams with his teeth out and the knife in his hand prongs at the girl.

"Aw, don’t be afraid. Dying is much easier than living."

She knew what was going to happen next, she knew, but she attempted her last opportunity of staying alive.

"P-please, please d-don't do this."

The man draws in a breath, muttering a 'no'. The knife plunges deep into her chest, the dark blood soaking her dress as her hands also held onto the knife. She stared him in the eyes, final words choked from her bloodied throat.

"Why?"

The man observes her breathing as her hands drop onto the ground, those pretty eyes of hers stay open, and that voice he could never get tired hearing of was clamped shut. Gone forever.

He inhales her dead scent and replies thickly, "Because.. you never loved me, my love."

The man stood up before wearing his mask again, viewing his lover one last time in satisfaction. Now her dress was bright enough.

The screen goes completely black, and a loud whine erupts from your friend.

"Y/N! I was up to the best part!" You put the remote away, as you held a bowl of colourfully wrapped lollies. Black and orange for the packaging, obviously.

"Eden, please get your ass up and stop getting distracted for god's sake." You motion your friend to follow you, an irritated moan coming out of her mouth.

"But, I was up to the best part, the best part Y/N!"

"What is this? The new ghost face movie or something?"

"It's called 'Scream, Baby', and yes it is new."

"Imagine actually having a psycho killer boyfriend." You mumble to yourself before talking to Eden again.

"Good thing I stopped you or else you would've spoiled the whole thing to everyone."

"But-"

"We have the last bit of decoration left, come on, once we're done with this we can get ready to go to the carnival."

The cold air hits you both as you go to the front of the house to help each other hang the streamers and fairy lights.

"I thought your mum said she wasn't letting you go?" Eden asks, grabbing less than a handful of lollies as she pops one into her mouth, dropping the rubbish onto the ground.

You fiddle with the lights, untangling the mess that was situated.

"Did you really think I was going to listen to her?" You shake your head disapprovingly (well, actually sarcastically) finally undoing the knot.

"I think she's scared, like other mums'."

"Yeah, I get what you mean, with the drastic news and all." Eden sighs, grabbing one end of the fairy lights while you grab the other.

"Can't believe people are going missing in this small town. This shit-town, Derry." You almost scoff in disbelief as Eden silently agrees with you with a nod of her head.

You both finish off the remaining decoration, satisfied with how it turned out. Bright, flashing lights danced vibrantly, the purple neon light that hung at the door made it look extra cool. And the Jack O' Lanterns. How could anyone forget those?

Those funny, supposedly scary-looking pumpkins glowed by the warmth of candles, all of them menacingly staring at the neighbourhood. The fake cobwebs stretched over the windows and fence. Skulls at the side of the entrance sat there with the grim reaper, its skeleton dangling.

It was not the best, but at least the house looked spooky enough for little kids. You check out the other houses on the street, some almost looking like haunted mansions while others left theirs unbothered with only one Jack O' Lantern and a bucket of candies. The regular sign says, "Please take one."

"Didn't the Jefferson's give away toothbrushes instead of chocolate last year?" Eden points to the last house on the street, which was not decorated at all.

"They're not here, heard they went to Hawaii for vacation a week ago."

"Dang, wanted to pull one last prank at them, and how'd you know?"

You snort, covering the laugh with your hand.

"You've always said that Eden, and word spreads fast here, especially with the internet and all."

You stretch, the moonlight shining on the darkened roads as clouds block the wonderous image in the night sky. Oh boy, today was going to be a fun night.

"Now, who's ready to attend the carnival?"

The cheers of exhilaration and laughter surge far from the entrance of this year’s Halloween extravaganza, and more than hundreds of people had attended to deem the levity chills of fear and excitement. The air had never felt much colder than when you and Eden just arrived at the town's biggest festival.

Even though you wore a black, puffy jacket with the fluff tickling your neck, you could still feel the subtle breeze singing along with you. The black shirt with shoulder cuts made your skin shine gloriously beneath the night sky. Your dark blue jeans glistened from the shiny stones that were neatly attached.   

A great outfit for a great night.

“Where are the others?” You ask as you glance around for your friends.

Eden glances at her watch, the time ticking away slowly.

“They should be here, let’s go in and see if we can find them.”

An arch was made just for this festivity, painted red words dripped displayed, 'The Carnal Fear'.

The carnival was bombarded with people, stalls of all types of games set up, the aroma of fresh food just swinging by, and oh my, the prizes. How could anyone forget the prizes? Bright lights and music filled up empty lanes as more people started to come in.

"Y/N! Eden!" Young voices yell from afar, two people running like if it were the end of the world. A pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, the wispy air already replaced the warmth that was radiated by the touch.

Min-ho and Jina smiled at you and Eden, their cheeks widened every second.

"Oh my god, I can't believe we finally got to meet up!" Jina exclaims, her giggles wandering around your ears.

"Don't tell me you guys started without us." Eden folds her arms across her chest, a fake scoff erupting from the corner of her lips as they quirk up.

Min-ho rolls his eyes jokingly, his fluffy hair being swept away in the chilly weather.

"Of course not, we were just looking for you guys."

You squint your eyes at him as they trail down to his shoulder.

"You sure you didn't play any games without us?" Min-ho follows your gaze, an 'o' expression formed on his lips.

Startled, he tries to send a signal to Jina, confusion taking over.

"Nice bear, there's one that looks exactly like it, right over there." You point to a water gun stall, little kids crowding the line as each of them were frantic for a prize. And one received the duplicate teddy bear Min-ho had darned on his shoulder.

“Alright, we did play, but it was only one!”

The giggle that abrupted from your lips fluttered in the air, a tingling sensation that flew into his ear. A wonderous, unhinged smile paved its way out of control. He stared across at you and your little gang, worthless in fact, but he just knew that the four of you were going to make his night the best. A night he would never forget.

Your steps on the pathway walked in every direction out of excitement as screams and joyous laughter mixed in delight- out of order. Your eyes fall into fascination with the decorative rides, and the food stalls- just the festival itself was amazing.

You viewed common games that are played on Halloween every year, like the classic 'Apple Bobbing'. Red apples were floating in a brown barrel, usually used for beer, and the spectacular green water rose up and down whenever a person was participating.

"How's it green?" You ask your friends out of curiosity.

"Not sure, they probably got lights in there or they actually coloured it." Jina replies to you as her fingers point towards a specific fun ride.

The Merry-Go-Round

"You want to go on a kids ride?" Minho says.

"Why not? Unless you want to be a loser and not reminisce childhood memories!" You stick your tongue at Minho, laughing as you and Jia run to hop onto the ride.

Minho gawks at Eden as they both share an awkward silence.

"Well, they're not wrong." Eden mentions as she goes to join them. Minho's ready to go but a loud whisper and slight yelling prevented him from taking a step further. He finds a couple pulled into a quiet area, both of them arguing.

"I told you not to talk to him!"

"I ain't lying, I didn't even talk to him!"

"Fucking whore, knew I shouldn't have brought you here."

"What did you just say? What the fuck did you just call me you son of a-"

Whack

Silence pours in like a waterfall, and a surprised, light-hearted gasp turns into a tremble. Hot air starts to burn onto the marked skin, too hot for breathing. Angry eyes turn into frightful ones, and they soon turn into a puddle of tears.

"Go act like a pretty bitch and wipe those fucking tears off your face." The man spits at his girlfriend's feet, walking away with a hot head. Her sniffles slowly die down, as she walks out too, her eyes landing on Minho.

He's frozen, gazing at her red cheek and puffed, eyes. He doesn't move, doesn't utter a word but is stuck. His breath hitches, taking a step back before the woman trudges away.

Fucking helpless.

"Minho! Hurry up!" He hears your voice, and it's filled with so much pleasure, it's something he hasn't truly felt in a while. Minho joins as he sits on the galloping horse. A clear, distinct white color reflects light and the red and blue patterns disguise its true beauty. The ride begins and fun-like music tunes in, the galloping horses going up and down as your laughter and cheers are in unison with your friends.

Except for Minho.

He's lost in his personal thoughts, gazing at the ground. The woman that looked at him, he thought about her eyes. How they were deceiving, bewitching and untrustworthy. Sure she had fat tears in them, everybody cries though. That woman could have simply, or even possibly tried talking to him. Had she needed help? Of course, she did, she was just scared, frightened. That was all.

Well, maybe she did not need to talk to him but could have told security or gone to the police. The woman seemed shocked at first, the slap had gotten her startled, yet quiet. It was a physical act that put her in her place. It was a toxic relationship. Perhaps it started as verbal, continuous arguments. Then those arguments altered into the man calling his girlfriend indecent names. Financial problems or blackmailing could be part of the list too, and this list could go on forever.

Minho knows all about this. This kind of stuff. It was hard to tell if he suffered in his life, but he was living way better right now. But back in the past? The most important time of living life? It was his precious childhood/teenage days that were too fragile for anything. Especially graphic.

Everything was going well.

Minho was halfway through high school, an A+ student, healthy, and athletic, his mother got a job, and his dad was working as an architect. The family was rich and financially great and Minho's life was normal. Just like everyone else.

Everything was going well.

It was just one fucking night that changed everything.

From normal to chaotic.

"Minho, try calling him again." His mother's panicked voice rang through the dining room as she paced back and forth.

Minho pressed the numbers, but the call didn't go through.

"Where could he be?" Her mellow voice was shaking in worry and fear for her husband. She knew he had an important, huge meeting and that he was supposed to be back by 9 or at least 10.

But it was fucking 1 in the morning. Minho remembered the time perfectly. The more he thought about the scene he just witnessed, the more he travelled back in time.

Minho was 16, he looked a little skinny, but had a fair look. In fact, he recently found out that one of the girls in his class had a crush on him. But now was not the time to think about that. He observes his mother still pacing back and forth, biting onto one of her nails as she gnawed on it. It wasn't a good habit of hers, and Minho smiled at that.

The door clicked, and heavy steps were taken into the house. Minho's mother jumped as she ran to see her love. She hugged him dearly, relieved that nothing serious had happened to him.

She was gently pushed off by him, her questions following her.

"Where were you?" Yes, where did his father go?

The response comes out as a grunt as he takes off his coat, loosens his tie and gulps a glass of cold water. Minho doesn't know if his mother took notice, but his dad's hair was a little messy, a little too messy for his liking.

"Honey, is everything okay? I was worried sick about you."

Minho's dad ignores her again, it's until she tugs his hand. It was this strong, bitter smell that she whiffed at. Alcohol and a mix of perfume, a perfect combination like chaos.

"Where the hell were you?" His mother says sternly, eyes narrowing within a second as her voice grows loud.

"Whose perfume is this? Who the fuck did you meet?"

"I was at the meeting."

"No you did not, you told me the meeting ended at nine to be exact and that you would be at least an hour late. What were you doing in that one hour that made you come home so late?!"

"I was at the god damn meeting!" Now his father's voice grew as he intimidatingly went up close to his wife.

"You fucking liar! I can smell the perfume, it's a woman's perfume. Just tell me who you were with!"

"You said it yourself you bitch! A woman."

Minho stared across at his parents, the tension growing and growing further like poisonous roots. He blinked and the next thing he saw made him sick in the stomach like his worst nightmare on a happy day.

His father's hands were around his mother's neck, her face swelled red and her eyes were tearing up. The nails that dug into her neck were crushing her fragile throat and she felt the world around her closing in.

Without any control or sense, Minho grabbed a vase and-

"Minho!" He's out of his thoughts, and they withered away like blowing a candle. You stare at your friend in concern as the ride had stopped and he just happened to zone out.

"Everything okay? You wanna do something else of your liking or-"

"No, I'm good." The response comes out as bitter as death, wicked like hell. You could tell something was wrong. A change in his expression, coupled with an uneasy tone, that gave it all away.

Was he not enjoying himself? Or was there something beyond this? Something out of your hands? The four of you stroll around, looking for something else to enjoy as you tell your friends to go ahead and that you would catch up to them soon.

Your hands fiddle around the white laces on your shoe, groaning as you bump into someone.

"I'm so sorry, I did not see you there." You gape at the tall person in front of you, their Halloween outfit as black as the devil's blood, and their little hat on top looked exactly like a jester hat but just black. Its silver balls illuminated in the night, chimes ringing here and there. The man in front of you gave a light- tipped smile, grinning with his teeth out.

"No, it's okay, I'm just glad I bumped into you."

You open your mouth but the words get stuck in your throat once you process his response. Glad I bumped into you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You catch him still staring at you with those endearing eyes, dark circles underneath them until you notice something off about his right eye.

It was a very faint, red line that stretched across his eye. A scar.

"I don't mean to creep you out, even though that's what everyone in Halloween is doing," he muttered, still giving you the exact light-tipped smile from before, "but I what I mean is for you to come over to the circus that will start soon in about fifteen minutes."

Oh, he must work here.

"A circus? Well, that's new."

"Yeah, it's a new addition you know? Be there by the way and bring your friends along too. You'll seek thrills there."

"Right, uh thanks."

Suddenly someone grabs your arm from behind, staggering you as you see Eden.

"Y/N, what's taking you so long? Jina and Minho are waiting for you."

"Sorry, this man here was talking to me." You turn around only to find him gone. Huh.

"Yeah, let's go."

You gotta be careful you know,

It's like dust falling into snow,

You won't notice it for a while,

It just so happens right before you go.

"Oh my lord, why is the line so long?" Jina frowns with her hands across her chest. She was so pumped to experience actual jump scares from her point of view, but it had been simply crushed by the number of people who also wanted to do the same thing as her. A sign had been nailed to the ground, wet paint displaying, "One Pair at a Time."

"Are you kidding me?" She grows irritated, asking one of the workers why it was only one pair at a time.

"Too many people ma'am, worried a fright can turn 'em into a stampede. Don't want history to repeat itself do we?"

Right, the 1980 'Death Joke'. Like any other Halloween, the haunted house was a classic for everyone. It was until a mysterious actor decided to scare the crap out of everyone that was in there. Realistic screams rang through, and wails of pain ruptured within the walls. The people outside had stopped their personal conversations only to see a pack of people running out of the frightening house. There were so many of them that some had died by being stepped over or just simply their heart jumping out of their sockets. The blood was the true witness of all.

But, the most shocking thing was the way some died. Ripped arms, punctures all over the bodies, so many of them headless. Blood had dripped down the walls, splattered, dried out. Those who came out alive spoke the unspeakable.

It was a giant spider. Bigger than a human with legs as pincers, and terrifying teeth. They were all pointed outwards, with sharp edges with a ton of them in spirals. The only thing that was so unnatural about it was the head. It was a human head with deep, red scars, scathed along its eyes. It was a human that turned into the spider, the actor.

They didn't know what to call it, so they called it, IT. The media had labelled them as crazy and psychotic. It was bullshit that no one would ever believe, a fake tale just to get the suspicions of murder away. Some of the survivors were either convicted or sent to asylums. Months later, all of them died by committing suicide. Stabbed, jumped out of a window or hanged themselves to death.

No one wants history to repeat.

Loud sighs drew from your friends, Eden spoke, "Let's get some food first? My stomach is growling and that's a sign of 'you're gonna die if you don't eat'," she laughed sarcastically as the others followed her. You're tagging along until you hear a whisper.

"Pst."

It was almost a stern whisper, nothing electrifying or hot, it felt like ice. Like dead bodies.

"Pst." It repeats again, and the same feeling is there again. The wisp of cold air, but when you turn around you find no one. Those large pair of eyes that narrowed, glowed dangerously.

Oh, Oh, you were so so stupid.

Such a pathetic being, yet so distinct and beautiful.

If Hoseok had the opportunity to snatch you away right now, he would.

But, he can't do this in front of everyone, after all, for the first time in years he's revealing himself to a group.

And that was specifically yours.

Only then, you noticed the floating balloon that sat in the quiet alley. As red as a cherry, the bright colour flashed in front of you. Alluring, hypnotic thoughts drag you in there. You get a hold of the string, not thinking much about it.

"Boo!" You don't know if it was the same noise but they both happened at the same time. You jump back, the popped balloon now flat on your hands as you stared at the glowing eyes that glare at you.

The person comes to light, and it's the same man from earlier.

"I'll give you a tip," he chuckles deeply, "go to the circus, and the line here will be gone, once it's done come straight here and I'll allow you and your gang to go in."

"W-wait, you work as an actor here?"

"A professional actor, professional enough to scare you." The man winks as he walks out of the alley. And then, he's gone.

You somehow managed to convince your friends to head over to the circus as it turned out that the man was right. Nearly everyone had gone to see the show and most of the rides had no lines. You all jog in whatsoever, a man with a black jester hat-

Him again?

He smiles gleefully at you again, but it now felt a little off to you. It wasn't just the way he smiled but also how you took his words into consideration. Go to the circus, and the line here will be gone, once it's done come straight here and I'll allow you and your gang to go in.

Hang on, if the lines were going to be empty, why couldn't you go now?

"Take a mask, take a seat and enjoy the show!"

You glance around and find the massive tent you guys are in had enough space to fit everyone that came. Solid, brown wooden benches smelt like fresh pinewood and mint. Red and yellow stripes licked the tent in all directions, and the rainbow lights lit up the place.

It's deafening to the crowd, but the audience settles down when dramatic music starts to play. The lights dimmed, and everyone hushed as the show was about to begin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, welcome to this year's Carnal Fear Circus!" Whoops and cheers surge in the air, thunderous clapping now softened.

"Stay in your seats, eat up your food and feel amused and overwhelmed by this show as it's not one to miss!" Magicians play fantastic tricks, the audience going 'ooh' and 'ah.' They bring monkeys in and then the monkeys start doing tricks. You see acrobats and clowns doing their own little thing. Everyone claps and laughs in jubilation. But something is off.

It's like time slows down and you can hear ticking. Everything around you is in slow-mo, including your friends who were munching on cheesy hot dogs and corn on the cob. The hairs on your neck stand, anxiety crawling through.

When you think you're alone, someone watches.

And he's staring right at you. No smile this time, but a dead look like he's about to murder someone. Behind him, an object flies into the air. And it's a red balloon, as red as a cherry. It goes higher and higher till it bursts.

"Let's pick some volunteers! Who will help Mick the mysterious in his performance?" Hands fly into the air, and multiple people yell over each other to be chosen.

The magician, Mick, points over to your area. "You two there! Pretty ladies with hot dogs and corn, why don't you come over?" Eden and Jina glance at each other, giggling as they jog off to the pit. You and Min-ho watch silently, and you observe how his mood had slightly gotten better. He finally had a smile on his face.

"May I have your names please?" The mic is passed to them, and both of them speak.

"What gorgeous names! Now, Jina, I have a task for you to do, in fact, you get to work on this one." The magician uses his wand (yes, the wand with the white tip and its black midway) to display the glistening, black rectangular box in front of him.

"I want you to get inside of this box while your friend Eden will be looking for a key. She'll be given clues to get you out, and you'll see the surprise that comes by."

Jina mutters a sure, entering the rectangular box that almost looked like a coffin, the lid shut closed. Eden covers her face with her hands, her ginger hair helping too. Mick hides the key right under the heavy box, slipping it ever so quietly. Inside the box is completely dark, and Jina's breathing was the only thing she heard. Maybe the box was soundproof? It was so dark, dark like on a Christmas Eve night.

"8..9..10, here I come! Ready or not."

The floorboards creak, faint little footsteps stomping around the house. Jeremy was scavenging for his younger sister, Jina. It was a Christmas Eve night, and the adults were all laughing, having sips of rich, bubbly champagne. His cousins, Tim and Tilly had joined them to play hide and seek.

It was Jeremy's turn to seek his cheeky cousins and of course his sister. He entered his room, crept up tacitly and looked under the bed. He found two pairs of eyes peering right at him. Tim and Tilly crawl out of the bed, giggling at the silly idea to hide in the most obvious place. The only person left was Jina. Now, Tim and Tilly could help but they cannot tell Jeremy at all, even if they find Jina themselves. That was part of the rules.

"Achoo!" The noise comes from across the corridor, the trio running right past Jina. She was tucked in the old, dusty cupboard that her mother used to put ancient things in. Like some of the Christmas decorations that were in here, and the wine cups too.

The cupboard was empty this time, and it was enough room for Jina to hide in. When she had run in and closed the cupboard's door shut, it was as black as night. She wasn't scared, she was a brave girl. Time passed, and Jina heard her cousins talking with her brother loudly downstairs.

"Where could she have gone? We looked at all the hiding spaces."

She chortled, tiny hands pressing against her soft cheeks. It felt like forever all of a sudden. Her palms began to sweat, her body feeling uncomfortably hot. Maybe now was the time to get out, and her butt had been aching from sitting the whole time.

Jina reaches to push the door, but it does not budge. She tries again, and again. The door rocks instead as if it were stuck on drying cement. Her heart races, blood pumping ridiculously, grunting as she uses all of her power to push the door open.

Nothing.

Then everything gets too dark, too dark that for a moment she thought she was blind. Her breathing gets heavy, and her forehead is sweaty too with a blistering temperature. The cupboard starts closing in on her and she starts to feel alarmed.

Her hands touch the back of the furniture and it felt incredibly close to her. She does the same with the other sides, her mind striking her that the walls were going to crush her. The space was too compact, feeling like she couldn't barely move at all. She feels her lungs constrict, blood pumping faster, and the oxygen around her slowly dissipates away.

"Mommy? Daddy?" She cries out, tiny teardrops plummet from her green eyes. She can't move her legs, barely an inch to move and it gets much harder to breathe. Jina starts to bang on the door vigorously, screaming for her mother and father.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

In a couple of seconds murmurs and yells come from outside the cupboard.

"Jina, sweetie, where are you?" A silky voice drifts and Jina realises it's her mother.

She hits the door again, sobbing.

There's grunting at the door, and groans of pain as the door swings open with massive power. Jina is lifted off of her feet swiftly, crying as she speaks with broken sobs.

"I c-couldn't b-breathe mommy, it was too dark."

It was too dark.

Abruptly the memories wash in and Jina starts to find herself in the same situation. Her vision blurs, getting clammy and her breathing becomes rapid. Rapid short breaths as she's wondering what might be taking Eden so long?

"Ooh, you're hot..cold...ok now warmer.. extremely hot." Jina can hear them, her hands sticking onto the black box's lid, trying to push it open. But it's locked. She starts to experience the exact feeling, the dark walls closing in, she might be locked in here forever.

She endures the space surrounding her, feet touching the very edge of the box. She clangs the lid, hoping to get a response.

"You're right there!" Jina makes out the comment, and her heart pumped briskly. It was starting to get suffocating and she couldn't take off the jacket she was wearing. Jina bangs at the lid again, yelling to get out.

"Open this! Open this shit right now!" She begins to pant as her vision starts to lose focus and witnesses stars in front of her. She tries kicking with her legs, but she's so weak, the oxygen getting harder and harder to reach her lungs.

"And she did it, ladies and gentlemen! A round of applause for these two." Roaring claps swell in the tent and the crowd cheers. A wave of chilly air brushes against Jina, and her eyes flutter. She recognises Eden pulling her up as she stumbles against her. She gazes to find you and Minho on the benches, but a twisted feeling punches her stomach.

Right behind you is a red balloon, bright and smooth, floating with a white string. It twirls around and black writing is formed on there.

"Jina."

It pops and Jina cowers out of nowhere, frantic eyes probing whether or not the crowd saw that at all. And it seemed like you didn't too.

You notice Jina's red cheeks, her sweat shining across her forehead. You watch Eden comforting her as they reach the steps to talk to you and Minho.

"Jina, oh my god, what happened?" She sits with a huff, slithering off her jacket.

"Just got a little conscious over tight spaces, again."

"Let's go outside and get some fresh air, we can just chill-"

"Dear ladies and gents, the mask you have brought in, please wear them for the next act!" The speakers' screech from corners, everyone whispering and teasing each other when they wore their masks. Except when you rummage to look for yours, it is not there. And it's the same with Eden, Jina and Minho as well.

The masks everyone put on looked horrendous. There were the classic X eyes and lined smiles, hollow faces with white teeth, fake blood splattered on fake bandages, and the word 'god' and the cross were written on it. They reminded you of purge masks, just like the ones in movies.

Promptly the lights switch off, and everyone is dead quiet. Your friends eye behind you, and you do the same. The masks start to glow, all of them staring at the black pit. No one moves, and no one talks until a red light glows. And you see him. You don't see the magicians or the acrobats, but him.

The man is grinning again, presenting a wide smile that can charm anyone.

"Eden...you don't look too splendid today." He draws out her name, and it echoes in her ear. She widens her brown orbs, parting her lips as she looks at the jester man.

"Don't you remember? Eden, you better not come to homecoming."

It’s the gasp that reminds her.

"Eden, you fat doll! You better not come to homecoming you ugly piece of shit." Spit falls on her brand-new, polished shoes by the bully, Sophie. Her blond hair swishes and she gives Eden a nasty stare, pushing her aside as her gang snickers.

Eden doesn't know what's wrong with her. Is she that awful? Is she that bad looking that everyone in her class makes fun of her? Didn't her diet help her? Probably was, and it made sense. No one liked her anyway, not only her looks but her personality too. She was too shy or extremely weird, not sporty or athletic. Life does take a lot of turns for the worst.

Homecoming was near and the endless threats that were sent Eden’s way made it an obvious decision to not attend the party. Even though she had prepared a beautiful dress, it wasn't worth it.

She sighs at the beauty she created, a dark navy blue ball dress attached with stick-on diamonds, faint silver glitter and the pale ends of sky blue. Fake blue carnations were affixed to the corset and golden linings were hemmed along the way. God, she even had matching jewelry too.

“Why aren't you going?” Her mother had asked her as she cleaned the dishes.

“I don't know, I just don't feel like going.”

"Nonsense, you will prevail homecoming with that dress. And it doesn't matter if you don't go out with a guy, as long as you're having fun then it's okay." Her mother optimistically said, hoping it would convince her daughter to go.

"I seriously don't know mom, and my dress is not that appealing either. I feel like it's going to be tedious." Eden's mother raises her eyebrows at her, and the delicate dishes clang as she takes off her wet gloves.

"You better wear that dress in five minutes, and I don't want to hear it from you." She points a wooden spoon at her, sipping a bit of hot chicken soup she had made. Eden whined, stomping to her room and grabbing her dress. She slips it on easily, fixing the ends of the dress and did a little twirl. She glanced at the mirror, her ginger hair curled at the ends and never minded- her dress actually looks gorgeous.

A knock is heard at the door, and Eden's mother comes in with a smile on her face. She started to help Eden with her hair, added a couple of extensions and did her nails. Eden giggled when the makeup brush tickled her eyes, the blue eyeshadow sprinkling. When they were done, Eden's lips parted, an 'o' shape formed and she was in shock.

"You look like Cinderella." Her mother told her, and Eden replied she wasn't in a fairy tale and that she was all grown up now. The drive to her school didn't take too long, and the blast of music thundered when they parked their car.

"Have fun, and if you need anything call me okay?" Eden's mother gave a swift kiss on her daughter's cheek. She waves and enters the school, and Eden discerns laughter and conversations in the hall. It was bright, a disco ball shimmering its sparkles and people were dancing. As if they were hypnotised, the conversations ceased and everyone stopped to look at her. Whispers and murmurs rang through Eden's ears and for a second she thought they were gonna tease her again.

"Jesus Eden! You look beautiful." A girl complimented her, and then a lot of people started to do the same. Eden never felt this type of appreciation in her life. People invited her to dance, to eat with them and she had proper chats too.

"Dear students of Drightfall High, thank you for voting and we hope you all are having a great time. We have calculated the votes to announce this year's homecoming king and queen!" Hoorays and clapping were occurring and a slap of drum rolls happened.

"This year's homecoming king and queen are-" the announcer pauses, opening the envelope in their hands, "Noah and Eden!" The room yells in congrats and hugs are given. To experience the feeling of the homecoming crown on Eden's head was truly an honour.

Once the party was over and everyone was saying their goodbyes, someone pulls Eden into a quiet corner.

"You bitch!" A slap smacks Eden across her cheek, and she stumbles.

"I told you not to come to homecoming, and you just took my fucking win."

"You disgusting whore, what is this piece of shit anyways? Made it yourself from the dollar store? Bet it couldn't compare to my designer dress." Sarah simpers, her friends following her too.

Rrripp.

"Woops, my hand slipped." A tear in Eden's dress and pull on her carnations- it was too much to handle.

More rips and more delirious moves were made and Eden pushed them off. Her salty tears wiped the makeup off of her face, and she wobbled on the road.

Fuck.

Fuck.

How the fuck did he know?

Within a second Eden runs away, her sobs loud and clear when she exits the tent.

"Eden wait!" You yell after her, and then they snap their heads toward you. Your heart thumps against your rib cage. Every single individual stares at you with their purge masks and Jina and Minho halt too. Your eyes trail to the pit and the jester man that stood there cackled wickedly.

"You better run." He said in a sing-like way, and he vanishes. The red light continues to radiate and there's an ear-splitting grind. The audience stands up, hands forming into fists and weapons come out of nowhere.

Your breath hitches as you and the others take slow steps.

"Run."

You all hop off of the benches, feet pressing against concrete and you look for Eden to leave.

"Eden! Eden where are you?!" You stick with Minho and Jina, their voices colliding.

"What the fuck is happening?!"

"I don't fucking know but there's fucking murderers coming after us!"

"We need to find Eden, right now so we can get out of here." You inform them, and instantly a pack of heavy stomps carry on the ground.

You all turn around in sync and it's the audience cracking their necks, holding axes and knives.

Shit.

You sprint as fast as you can while Minho shouts.

"Where do we go?!"

"We're on the opposite side of the exit, it's gonna take us longer if we take a detour." Jina mentions, your breaths are in sync.

What's one place that will be hard for them to find you?

Your eyes broaden and you have an idea.

"The haunted house- let's go there!"

"Are you insane? It's going to be easier for them-"

"It's the biggest ride to easily hide, and we need to find Eden right now."

They look at you with hesitation set in their eyes, but with no choice, they agree and follow you.

You all huff and pant when you enter the house, and it's perfectly decorated. The dark wood, with carvings and cobwebs, barely any light escaping through. Various stairs and corridors are planted, old dry paintings hang on the walls and a wail erupts upstairs.

Eden.

The three of you run up to find her, hearts racing faster every time you thought about dying at the hands of these people.

"Eden! Where are you? We need to leave right now-"

"Y/N in here!" Jina shouts, and you hurriedly go after her. You identify Eden sobbing quietly, her eyes red and swollen from whatever she beheld.

"Eden, we need to leave right now. You're not gonna believe it but there's a like a whole fricking mob coming after us."

"What?"

"Y-yeah, we have to get out now." Eden teeters on her feet, and finally, the four of you prepare to leave when-

"FUCK!" A yowl erupts from Minho, and behind him stood one of those masked people. A knife was stuck deep in his shoulder, blood coating his denim jacket. He can feel the weapon drive deeper and deeper into his skin, the tendons and muscles- it's all pain. You dash to him but Jina gets a hold of your wrist, pulling you back. Behind Minho, there's...more.

No, no, no.

"Minho!" You scream and he wails in agony. You, Eden and Jina trip out of the room and the door shuts close. You grab onto the door handle, unable to open it.

"Leave him alone! Don't you fucking touch him-"

A head-splitting slice hangs in the air, and you're mute.

No...

"Y/N, let's go. I-it's too late." Jina murmurs, and hot tears sprang from your eyes. Eden peers downstairs and even more arrive.

"We need to get up higher." She tells and you obey.

You're all panting again with contended hearts and clammy clothes, pushing yourself into the first room you find.

It's wide and massive, and dust reeks from the ceiling-

Oh lord. The ceiling.

Like an ancient movie, sharp spikes are pointed, as white as day. In front of you were solid, cobblestone steps and one mistake could result in death.

You catch Eden pulling the doorknob but the door is locked.

"We're all going to die at this point." Jina whispers to herself, never feeling this scared in her life.

You ignore the disastrous emotion, and carefully observe the steps in front of you.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

You step on the first stone, and nothing happens yet.

"Just follow me, and don't step on any stone that is raised a bit higher. It'll trigger the trap."

They silently stick with you and you're halfway there.

"Woah!" You snap your head, looking at Jina who had accidentally stepped on the wrong stone. It goes deep into the ground, grinding against it and everything goes soundless. The ceiling begins to shake like an earthquake and it was getting extremely difficult for you to keep your balance.

"Just go!" You yell, jumping on every random stone just to get out of this death trap. You get out of the horrendous room, and the lights start to flicker. Eden comes out too, panting when she sees you.

"Where's Jina?"

A scream bellows, and you see the walls closing in on Jina.

"Y/n! E-Eden, fuck help ME please." She chokes out, her body getting squished by the rough walls. The ceiling starts to drop closer and closer to her, and you both can't do anything. There's no button to turn it off, nothing.

You wince when you start to hear cracks, and her screams echo in your ear. The spikes sink into her forehead, and her skull gets demolished. Blood splattered, some of it landing on you. The walls oppose each other, and Jina's body was stuck on the spikes. She hung loosely, and nothing of her was noticeable anymore. Her face was completely gone and bones were out in all the wrong places. It drops with a thud, more blood spilling and the puddle grew.

You stare at the scene like a dead person.

A dead person.

"Y/N..." You feel Eden heave on your shoulder as she dragged you away. You're both at the end of the corridor, and a glimmer of hope arises. Right in front of you was a door with an exit sign and you and Eden rushed in.

Except, it wasn't an exit.

It was a mirror maze.

You apprehend the door slam and the ground shakes slightly. You and Eden glance at each other, nodding heads as you take steps. It's clear, and blue lights reflect. Copies of you and your friend are at every angle and direction, and you bump into one of the mirrors.

"Fuck." You groan as you soothe your head with your hand.

"Eden, do you know where to go next?" You question her but there's no response. You gaze at the mirrors and your heart jumps out of your chest.

"Eden?"

"Y/N!" You hear her calling you and you start taking haphazard control. You collide into more mirrors until you find her.

"Eden, oh my god, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just got lost, sorry."

"Don't be, come on, I think we're near-" You jolt straight away, your head impacted by the clear wall in front of you.

What the-

You form fists at the door, sweaty palms greasing the clean glass. Eden tries to leave but she also hits her head. Oh god, she's stuck.

And then you hear this disgusting noise behind Eden.

It's the man.

His tongue glides smoothly along the glass, and you start to see his red scar more vividly now. Out of nowhere, he bangs his head on the glass and both you and Eden jump. He does it again and repeats it until there's a crack.

Hell, you were realising what he was doing. You try breaking the glass with your shoulder but pain waves in. The crack starts to get extensive, and you keep trying to somehow fracture the glass from your side.

The banging stops and you look at the man grinning again, with a red balloon behind him.

He opens his mouth wide, and spirals start to form, and so many teeth jagged are coated with blood.

"No! Stop, stop, leave HER ALONE!" You scream, as your fists rap at the wall.

"Don't do this to her! PLEASE, I'm begging you, don't do this to-"

Clink.

Glass shatters everywhere, and fragment of pieces graze Eden's face. A crunch is heard and you see blood explode on the walls and you fall back, not realising the tears had already dropped. The man is gone again.

Your head takes time to process the things you just saw, and all of your friends were dead. They were never going to come back into this world ever again. You manage to exit the room and find a pair of stairs that lead back to the start of the house. You're so tranced in your thoughts that you trip on a step, tumbling down and you hear a twisted crack from your ankle.

The shriek that bursts out of your dry lips tells enough of a gruesome warning. You peek at your leg and you shake your head. Part of the bone is cracked and it pops out, blood enriching the wound. The torment is killing you and you have no other option but to crawl out of the place. You haul yourself out steadily, wincing and hissing every time the bone gnawed at your skin.

You're in the middle of the path, behind you was the exit, but it was sealed with red balloons and a wooden board. Everything is so quiet, and dead. No one was here except for you and the man.

You were so alone.

"Hey Y/N, wanna play truth and dare?" Your friend asks you, wiggling her eyebrows when you say yes.

"Okay... I pick truth."

"Aw man, I had a good dare. Anyway, what's your biggest fear?"

You take time to answer this one, what was your biggest fear?

"Hmm, I think it's being alone."

"Alone? What type of fear is that?"

You try to explain to her, "It's like you're scared of being alone in this world, and you're the only person who exists in a certain place."

"So that's your fear?"

"Yeah, I hate being alone."

You hated being alone, and you were so fearful about it.

Sweet, melodious music dances in the breeze and only one ride smoulders in front of you.

The Merry-Go-Round

The man dressed in all black stands there watching you. Your breath hitches and you see him crack his bones and do weird movements with his body. His legs begin to extend and they become...pincers? The same goes for his arms and the body part that remains normal is his head.

Everything starts to connect... the 1980 Death Joke, and the missing people from previous festivals-

He was the actor.

And he even told you at the beginning.

He's so proud, and he's played such a mind game with you all. And he's finally going to have you, and keep you forever.

"Y/N, my darling, how was the carnival?" The name throws you off, and you whimper when you move back with your broken ankle.

Hoseok catches this and he pouts.

"My poor girl got hurt while trying to survive? Well, isn't that heroic?" He crawls with his pincers, coming towards you, and you try to move backwards. You're slow and weak, unable to move an inch when you move your leg. He, on the other hand, runs at a pace that even you could not muster.

"No!" You scream, hands swatting at him.

He cradles you in his spider-form arms, and brings you extremely close to his face.

"I forgot to introduce myself, forgive me. But the name is Hoseok, or as others like to call me, IT."

You tremble under his touch, as you uncomfortably writhed around. Everything is silent and it feels like it's just the both of you that exist in this world. His world.

"I want you to scream for me."

It all happens in a flash and you screech at the pincer that struck your chest. Blood drips, and crimson floods in. You gurgle and spit out blood when it goes even further. You can feel yourself breathing slowly, the breaths now soft and steady, and your eyes become blurry.

They stare directly into Hoseok's eyes, and he opens his mouth. Three circular balls glow yellow and your eyes fall into his spell. Just right before you get hypnotised, you see the bodies of your friends float in the night sky. Blood dripped from each of them. The amount of fear he consumed from them was fresh, and it was like a full buffet. Hoseok is always in your head and was always inside your friends' heads too. Sure, he enjoyed fear, but the best part of all was death. Just seeing the way they all die.

Hoseok gives you the exact same light-tipped smile from before, and he was right, you did make his night the best.

His lips fall onto yours, capturing the liquid, murmuring to you.

"You're not alone anymore, Y/N."

He chuckles before diving in again.

"Once in a while... we all float."

#We All Float #yandere hoseok #yandere shapeshifter hoseok #horror #yandere #tw: violence and gore #yandere writing #yandere hoseok x female reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts #hoseok smut #bts smut #jhope smut

[b4kuch1n]

your leon wooloo sculpting comic post is like 2 years old at this point but its in my mind forever. i got my hands on some airdry clay a few weeks ago and started sculpting pokemon, and then abruptly remembered the comic. so i made the egg

i dont have any actual tools yet (im working with an already-ruined pocket knife, a safety pin, paintbrushes, and plastic cutlery) so it arguably looks worse than leon’s, but now i dont want to make an actually good one

I'm so incredibly charmed by this little beast... I think in the comic the 'grill marks' on top of the egg wooloo is just bc leon squeezed the body piece a bit while connecting the head to it so that like. left imprints. but this is... what can I say this is a loaf. this is bread. this is the most beautiful little guy I would like to see frolic in the wide plain. look at their braid.... they have such exquisite shapes. you did perfectly and wonderfully with the tools you have!! thank you so very much for showing them to me. holds them tenderly in my hands

but in all seriousness I am really, really glad that out of all of my swsh stuff it's that comic that's gained this kind of longevity. I still need to finish up that comic triplet lol but that specific comic carried such a personally precious message for me about making things, one that I hold onto with tighter grip every day haha. there's fun in messing up! there's a lot of fun in making lumpy little things and then setting them out to roam the earth. the whole comic triplet is going to be about identities and the craft of them, so the interlude about learning to love imperfect creations and the process itself is crucial. and I am really, really glad it's that message that's gotten out there. it is an indescribable honor to see my little comic inspire people to make a little guy for themselves and find some good fun in the process, there's truly nothing better I can hope to happen to my art through it all. hope the little gods of goofing around keep you company with whatever you do next!

#bakuspeech #ask #ghostly-croww #swsh #egg wooloo #I've gotten to see a few wooloos folks made with a bit of inspiration from that comic... it never ceases to blow my mind #and tbh all of them are so gotdamn cute!! theyre all such excellent friends... #but also genuinely I am entering my earnest bad art appreciation phase full swing #I just. I really love it when anyone tries their best to make one thing and another thing just kinda happens instead #it's just so. it's so fun! it's everything to me. please try new mediums and show off the funky first attempts #it's a condensation of that first surface contact with a whole new fount of knowledge and skills. thats so. its so human...... I love it #but of course the comic is also! for the folks who have been in the craft for a while #lords know one can get caught up in the frettings sometimes. I do that too #but the important thing is that you're making something and you're having a good time #who cares!! that there are handprints all over the end result. that's you!! that's you there!!!! #I love that!!! and I will never not be a little bit of an idiot about it #this became about a bit of something in the end lmao but Im just. I'm so happy about this stuff all the time... #thank you so so very much about showing me wooloo! if you will be giving them a coat of paint I hope they enjoy it #and I hope you have a good day!!

[sleeplessvalley]

god I'm letting someone else front after I'm done typing this, I just need to express it or I'm going to pop like a balloon

like fucking

I have early memories scattered everywhere

in 1st grade where a kid insulted my shirt (and I still hold the grudge for some reason)

the time when we were making a little neighborhood with milk cartons on the floor in 1st grade and I knocked a little toy car into it; nothing even happened to the carton houses but I got yelled at for it. other people had knocked things off their tables into it and were only told gently to go in and pick it up

the many, many, MANY times my writing stuff would go missing from my desk, from 1st grade to 5th, and if it happened to anyone else it was always to the other 'weird' kids

1st grade, we were doing the 'who took the cookies from the cookie jar' with the whole class and the teacher just skipped over me

1st grade, a couple of kids would run away from me whenever I tried to play with them. naturally I chased them because I wanted to talk to them and shit, but they wouldn't even give me the chance to talk and I do remember them both calling me names

how MY ENTIRE CLASS aside from one girl (who moved to oregon before the next schoolyear started) in 2nd grade thought I was weird and I knew, just knew, that people were avoiding me the whole year. when she moved I also had only one friend until 4th grade.

3rd grade. in its entirety. was awful. my teacher then was strict but she hated me in particular, made me feel awful for not knowing how to read a clock of all things because nobody told me how, and having difficulty with a research project on leaves (such a long story), various classmates humiliated me and my wax museum project, the nurse would get upset with me for not taking my asthma medication. there's so much stuff that happened in this year alone and I don't remember all of it, but I remember a lot of tears both at school and at home because my mom would get angry with me.

I also remember in 2nd and 3rd grade I was put into some little program during school that I thought everyone went to and only just recently realized it was for problem kids, what with all the board and card games on being a good kid and being nice to others and stuff. this continued until 5th grade, and then in 6th until I graduated highschool I was switched over to the school therapists

a girl in 4th grade telling me she was a better girlfriend than I was in regards to a kid we were both friends with. I wasn't interested in him and told her we were just friends, she insisted I was and this quite literally led to her and her friend group bullying me from 4th grade through to 11th (it would've been until my last day of highschool but covid hit us in march of 11th grade, which is. something I shouldn't have to be thankful towards a virus for)

one boy in my 4th grade class just yelling at me that I was weird and that I should leave him and others alone

as mentioned prior, from partway through 2nd grade until 4th grade, I had one friend. a group of girls invited me to sit with them for lunch one day near the start of the year and I thought finally, this is it, these are going to be my friends, they seem to like me. this is a surprise tool that will help us later.

various other things in this year that I also don't remember. sums up to more tears at school and at home.

by fucking 5th grade. 5th grade. I was saying that I wanted to kill myself and seeing an OUTSIDE therapist for that

5th grade is also the year when everything started going downhill. near daily I'd get yelled at by my teacher, or my mom, or the afterschool people, for forgetting something in my classroom. usually a piece of homework. only here did my mom really start noticing all the problems I was having, and she thought it was a goddamn developmental thing that could be fixed? so she took me to a neurologist and that's how I got my ADHD diagnosis. I remember none of it but she tells me the story. of how she went with me, the doctors said that, and her response. which is and I shit you not "how can that be, my kid has been fine and suddenly it's a complete 180 compared to before". never got support for that. still haven't, probably never going to.

I'm not even getting into everything that came after in detail. all that's important is that in the middle of 2016 I was put on an anxiety medication, it completely fucked me over and made me depressed, shortly after 8th grade started I lost everyone who even tolerated me at the time, and I wanted to commit suicide so badly that it resulted in the only time I've ever tried to harm myself. got suspended from school and sent to a mental hospital, then was playing catch-up for a month.

all that.

all that, and I sit here going 'I don't have very bad trauma. there was one incident in 2016, but nothing more than that' while continually thinking all my abnormal responses to things now are normal.

and I sit here having gone 'but how could I have OSDD. how could I have ASPD. it doesn't make sense, I've had a pretty normal time' in the past.

#daitex.t #mlergh #safety pins for imperfections #suicide mention #kids are... really good communicators. and I say this because I've worked at summer camps before #if not one but SEVERAL kids come up to me and say 'I don't want to play with [x] for [reason]' #then either there's a behavior that needs to stop. or the kid in question is wired differently. #and in cases of the latter it tends to be worse #god. I just. I haven't had trauma as bad as some others with DID/OSDD do #but I absolutely have trauma! #like wow. I wonder why there's a system member from when I was seven/eight and in third grade. this is a complete mystery.

[kayssweetdreams]

Prim and Proper Problems Ch 11

Using the map from the kids, Balan and Lance finally found the school. The two of them looked into a window and saw a classroom filled with girls, who were learning about...corests? Balan used his magic to listen in on the lesson "...And As you can see. Wearing a corset is a 24/7 objective. After all. No proper girl would he caught DEAD without one. But then again, Beauty isn't every proper girl's forte." The teacher said.

A girl raised her hand "But...Don't corsets hurt?" She asked. The teacher slammed a stick at her desk. "Pain IS beauty. Why do you think Women wear heels?" She shouted. The girl shrunk back, feeling uncomfortable about the subject "But...They're painful and people stop breathing because of those ..." she said looking down. The teacher glared at her "Why do you think that I said 'Beauty isn't for EVERYONE?." She seethed. The girls around seemed to giggle at her before another girl with a boy cut sent her a sympathetic look "It's alright Evangeline, I still think you look awesome." She said.

However, this made the teacher glare at her too "And another thing. There is a REASON that Girls where these things, so that if they decideto do tbe unthinkable and cut their hair short, they'd be able to tell ones gender. Miss Raquel." She said. The girl rolled her eyes "My name is ROCKY. Why is that so hard?" She argued. The teacher slammed her stick onto her table as well "NO. You are RAQUEL. You are a GIRL. SO ACT LIKE ONE" She yelled. Rocky stood up in front of her "Yeah. Well guess what you old hag. You're not my mom. And neither is that old witch Madame Prim." She yelled. The girls around her gasped in horror while the teacher reached for a button on the desk.

"Madame Prim. We have a code 111." She said. "Bring the imperfect delinquents here so I can fix them." Madame Prim's voice said. The teacher then grabbed Rocky and Evangeline by the ear and dragged them out of the class "Read Chapter 16 until I return." She said, before slamming the door. Balan and Lance felt bad for the two girls until they figured that whatever code 111 entailed, must have been what happened to Kaylo and Yuri.

"We need some way to infiltrate the school. Maybe a uniform is just the tool." Balan said. "Over there. There are uniforms to spare." Lance pointed out, looking at a pile of uniform near a trash can. The maestros looked confused as to WHY perfectly good uniforms were in the trash, until he spotted what looked to be add on, and accessories. One uniform had a beautiful pattern embroidered on the skirt, while another had a patches and safety pins in it, as if it was gothed up.

"These must not be accepted...There's more detail on them than expected." Balan said. Just then, a few more uniforms dropped down from a nearby chute...only one seemed much bigger in size, and the other the skirt had been sewn into pants. "Evangeline and Rocky...their different uniforms thrown away...Could that mean that the change was on display?" Lance asked. "It would appear so. But how that change happens the kids need to know." Balan said.

Grabbing the discarded uniforms, the maestros flew back to the theater. With a quick wash, and a bit of magic, they hid the modifications made to the uniform, making them look as good as new...and as plain as the girls in the school. "Alright! Finding what happened would be wise, but you shouldn't go without a disguise." He said. The kids looked down at the plain uniforms "Alright, but how do we get into the school? I don't think we can just walk in." Cass said.

"She's right. When Kaylo and Yuri went there, they got on a bus, if we just walk up there, Madame Prim might get suspicious." Rebecca said. Balan just smiled and snapped his fingers before a large clone of a PPP bus appear. "One bus ready to go. But be careful you know." He said. Balan snapped his fingers again and made Cal look like one of the drivers.

"Wait, what about me and Haoyu?" Leo asked. Balan gazed at them with a curious look, until his eyes gained a cheeky glimmer "My dear boy, you're going too. Just one more thing I have to do." He said. The blonde haired boy didn't know what Balan was talking about until he and Haoyu found themselves on chairs, and their heads leaning back in a sink. "Seeing as the school is for the female type, to blend in would be the hype." He said, pulling out his shampoo again.

The sounds of the boys protesting Balan's plan, as well as the sounds of running water made Sana and Attilio lean on the door to hear what was going on. The green haired clown gave a unsure shrug "I-I'm sure they're OK." He said unsure .

After a short while, Leo and Haoyu came out with longer hair, and more feminine faces "There you go! No one will suspect! Of course unless this Madame Prim will inspect." He said. Leo and Haoyu gave him unsure looks while they slipped on the uniforms and hopped onto the bus "Kuro, Shiro, go with them too. Just in case they know what to do." Lance said. The Tim and Negati nodded as they hopped on as well. Cal then turned to his Negabosses "Fortie. You're going with them too." He said.

The pawn sputtered "What?! Why?!" He asked "You're small enough to be considered a toy, maybe you can sneak around. "He said. Fortie wanted to argue, but Fortsepher gave a very stern glare down at him. He sighed "FINE. I'll go too." He grumbled. Moments later, the kids were ready to infiltrate the odd boarding school, with Kuro, Shiro, and Fortie hiding in Emma's bag"Wish us luck!" Cass said before Cal started driving.

The Chess champion had snapped a picture of the map to the school, but found that it was surrounded by a long, and dangerous mountain terrain. "Well kids...get comfy. We're in for a VERY long trip." He said, as the group made their way to find the secret of the strange boarding school...

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehypercutstudios/@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane belongs to @lovelyteng

#Balan Wonderworld #Balan #Lance #Leo Craig #Emma Cole #Jose Gallard #Fiona Demetria #Yuri Brand #Haoyu Chang #Sana Hudson #Cass Milligan #Cal Suresh #Iben Bia #Attilio Caccini #Lucy Wong #Eis Glover #Bruce Stone

[shallowrambles]

WHAT IF the key to unlocking it all is the little story Sam urges Dean to tell to Cas in 10x09.

You know, that story about Dean getting roofied by a group of adults and John as savior, arriving just in time to save Dean from being taken advantage of.

It's a lie, see. Perhaps, John wasn't in time. Perhaps, this is another one of those heroic!John fictions for Sam's benefit. The uglier truth is that John arrived just in time to see Dean getting taken advantage of, maybe even by the "safety pin through his nose and a Kill Everything tattoo" guy.

Perhaps, John was horrified, and angry, and Dean interpreted all that anger as being directed at him. John was ashamed of him. Maybe that's the root of the, "He never looked at me the same way."

///

It's the raw nerve here.

Dean went to that bar looking for validation, maybe even trying to soothe rejection and a lack of support at home. (Indeed, in his mind, maybe season 8-9 was him perceiving that no one was supporting him when he felt he needed it. He was killing himself to support everyone, and still failing.)

So, like with the bar, he went looking for heroic validation. He went to take down Abaddon, was led into disinhibition by Crowley, and was (symbolically) taken advantage of by Cain.

///

And when he sees those men trying to get at Claire in 10x09, he slaughters them all, the same way he'd always wanted to slaughter those adults at the bar. You can only swallow the anger and shame for so long.

And so, when he sees Cas is doing for Claire what John failed to do for him, it hurts it hurts it hurts. Cas saved Claire. Where was someone like Cas back then?

CASTIEL: Where’s the girl? [They hear screaming come from upstairs. In the room, Claire is screaming, trying to fight Salinger off. He’s trying to hold her down, and the door flies open. Castiel is standing there, and Salinger turns to look at him, giving Claire enough of an opening to kick Salinger in the face and get up. She kicks him, over and over again.] CASTIEL: Claire. Claire! [Castiel grabs her arm, and she finally stops kicking. Cas leads her from the room. They walk downstairs, and Claire moves away from Cas.] CLAIRE: Randy. [He looks at her, then stares at the floor, guilt on his face.]

//

SALINGER: Hey! [Dean turns around and Salinger smashes his beer bottle over Dean’s head. Dean falls, bleeding from his forehead. He looks up, then flashes back, to receiving the Mark from Cain, the feeling of holding the First Blade, killing Abaddon. The men crowd closer around him, and he remembers beheading Magnus, holding the First Blade, waking up a demon, the ritual of the sanctified blood that made him human again. Back in the present, Dean shakes his head.]

This flashback is disturbingly linked to what just happened to Claire.

///

And carrying this whole father!protector theme further, Cas did Claire wrong, like John did him wrong, but he keeps trying, and why couldn't John have just kept trying?

Dean would've even forgiven him if he'd just tried. There was patience and understanding, just waiting to be given to imperfect father!protector...

Cas eventually relinquishes care of Claire to a trusted friend, even though he wants to keep her.

And oh, how Dean wishes John had done that for him, too.

#season 10 #lesser explored season 10 things #spn season 10 #shallowseeker rambles #freeform spn thoughts

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

box your errors by mellowflicker

I am hopelessly in love with this story. The imperfect people LZ and WY are with their own anxieties and fears is captured here with warmth and care. I liked the characterization of both characters very much. The way they are drawn to each other and fit in each others lives felt so natural and also realistic. LZ’s POV throughout was excellent.

Note: Just read this masterpiece again - non-stop, cuddly, in bed. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Quotes:

Lan Zhan puts the bottle on the sink, where a couple of his plates and cups have found a semi-permanent residence. It distresses Lan Zhan a great deal, but in order to wash them, he has to unload the dishwasher first. He prefers bed to all of the above.

It’s week three, and Lan Zhan thinks he’s gotten a hang of napping instead of sleeping. Lan Zhan suspects he is lying to himself because, at this point, any vertical surface seems excruciatingly appealing. Blinking too slowly is dangerous, too.

Nestled in the crook of Lan Zhan’s left arm, A-Yuan yawns. Lan Zhan knows that there’s no one in the house to make fun of him for being too – emotional about it, but he still feels like a thief whenever he peppers those cheeks and eyebrows and tiny baby feet and hands and knees every other second.

————

Zixuan fumes, but obeys. Jiang Yanli will find it insightful. “Fine, just – be quick.”

Lan Zhan will not be quick. He needs to learn to swaddle.

“Tell me if it is too loose or too tight,” Lan Zhan says and folds one side of the blanket over Zixuan’s left side.

Working with four safety-pinned blankets is not ideal, but Lan Zhan can’t wrap Zixuan in a duvet.

“With all your Lan money, you could’ve hired someone with a baby and learn with them. And yet,” Zixuan says as Lan Zhan shoves his palm between Zixuan’s chest and the blanket.

“Loose?”

“A bit, yeah,” Zixuan agrees.

Lan Zhan unswaddles him, makes another attempt.

“With all your Jin money, you could have hired someone and make them look like Yanli-jie. And yet,” Lan Zhan says, tightening the fold. Zixuan tries to kick him through the blanket.

“Shut up,” Zixuan hisses. “You promised me a date with her.”

“I promised you her number,” Lan Zhan amends, and tugs on Zixuan’s arm. “Good?”

“Yeah, I feel like a baby in the womb.”

“Safe?”

“No, fucking wet, it’s so hot in here, unwrap me now,” Zixuan grumbles.

————

Since brother moved in, A-Yuan picked up from him something essential that Lan Zhan would never be able to deliver in a mandatory amount – smiling and laughing.

A-Yuan smiles at Lan Zhan without anything significant to summon such a reaction. Lan Zhan can be doing baby massage and A-Yuan will laugh his time through it, enjoying the touch and a song.

A-Yuan smiles at him or brother first thing in the morning, and Lan Zhan’s breath catches every time. He doesn’t know if A-Yuan would do it if it wasn’t for brother’s emotional proficiency, which took no time to spark a proper response from the boy.

With his son being a lavish source of smiles, Lan Zhan can’t help but echo them, which delights A-Yuan more than any toy or game or a daily kissing session. It’s like A-Yuan encourages him to smile, too. Not demanding – simply appreciative of Lan Zhan’s tries.

Years later, if A-Yuan decides to ask him if there’s anything he taught Lan Zhan, among other things, Lan Zhan will tell him that he taught Lan Zhan to smile.

“Love you,” Lan Zhan murmurs into A-Yuan’s palm, heading for the sunny garden. “Baba loves you very much, baobao.”

————

Lan Zhan is a shameful liar and even more shameful stalker, he realises about three minutes into digging around his bursting email box.

He is not working, he is not helping anyone in the office, he is not reading his humongous debrief paper – Lan Zhan is watching Wei Ying and A-Yuan planting tomatoes, potatoes, sweet peas, chilli peppers, and other vegetables from his shaded corner of the patio.

Lan Zhan situates his laptop on his outstretched legs so that he can see Wei Ying and A-Yuan and make sure that if Wei Ying looks at him, he won’t suspect anything. Lan Zhan thinks he is doing a good job of spying until Wei Ying winks at him and brandishes a crumbling clump of soil.

T, 42k

Summary:

Lan Zhan doesn’t flick any lights on, and the heavy darkness of the snowy day makes him feel safe and sure when he musters some semblance of his voice, but in the end, still whispers, “Welcome home, Lan Yuan.”

#wangxian #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #wangxian fic rec #the untamed fic #the untamed fanfiction #untamed fic #mdzs fic #modern au #mdzs fanfiction #soft fic #LZ pov

[reaganingridleys]

@bluebaronness *cracks knuckles* YRRRRRR

fair warning thiugh i AM typing this on my phone so i cant enable the read more option BAJWHWHHEEJ apologies in advanced but YAAAAA

Reagan has never really worn proper lingerie before— in an attempt to seduce Brett in one of their hornier moods she’d probably attempted to save herself from the chafing. It’s a bit messy when she reveals herself to be wearing it for the first time, but Brett’s pretty good at holding back his urges unless it’s being teased onto him for too long. That being said, as soon as Reagan strips down to the lace, Brett hovers over, letting the electricity of his touch run its course on soft, imperfect skin, before he latches his lips onto it to suck hickeys and whispers, “we’re keeping it on.”

All that pent up rage and anxiety Brett harbors seems to register when it comes to being in bed with him. Of course, he’s gentle because he’s too considerate, but the moment Reagan lets him be selfish it’s able to drive both of them up the wall with how hard Brett grips her as he fucks her into the wall. Reagan turns back to see the muscles of his arms working up a storm as he pushes her up, and it’s a feeling of attraction Reagan never knew she wanted like… damn.

Brett’s also possessive. Reagan, on the outside would never want to be owned by someone, but she still yearns for the kind of safety that the sense of belonging gives and Brett slowly weans her into this powerplay by asserting himself more gradually, running his hands over her body and whispering how much he’ll let her do anything to him, but they both know that that isn’t what she wants. She is looking for order in the middle of the chaos that is her mind, and if that means having Brett take control of her body, moving her around and growling out how much she belongs to him before turning the hickeys into soft kisses, then so be it.

Reagan is… emotional, at least in bed. I think that with the anger she harbors on the outside translates to anxiety on the inside. It’s not about the sex itself, no, but it’s more so that this would have been the first time she was doing it with somebody close, somebody who trusts her. Maybe it’s a bit scary to think that this could actually work out, that doing this would mean it’s because they love each other, want to be able to connect and touch each other, the thing that Reagan’s afraid of is that she’ll turn into the mess her parents made and she will get ignored or neglected of her own needs. But the thing is: Brett loves her. Brett wants her to be conscious of her needs, especially when it comes to herself, when it comes to them. So Brett holds her hand through the process, like it’s the first time they’re doing it, but it’s only because Brett wants to work his way into her before any matter of force could be applied, you know? And by the time he’s done with her she’s ready to cry her eyes out because of how much care he puts into making sure she feels good. She’s never felt special to anyone before. Luckily, Brett will provide that.

Steering away from introspection: They’d gradually get kinkier and kinkier as time goes on for me, to be honest. Though they’re not a PDA couple you could find the more suspicious antics of theirs in dark alleyways, bathrooms or, even at the windows of Reagan’s apartment. Reagan likes playing around with Brett and testing his limits, and that extends over to sex and what is and what isn’t boundary specific.

Brett keeps his affections light at work. Though other times there’s his hand gliding over Reagan’s thighs, his breath teasing onto the shell of her ear or just being pressed so close to her with a bear hug. As it goes, they end up rocking the car before heading back, lmao.

“Stop doing that—“ “make me.” Is their dynamic and you will pry this off my Cold Dead Hands. Anyway that’s a statement that gets Brett to pin her arms above her head before he fucks her senseless yass <3

#they be fuckin #brett hand #reagan ridley #inside job #breagan #nsft #brett head