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chocoholicannanymous · 2 months

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Evil Author Day #2

February 15th is Evil Author Day - you can read more about it on Jilly James' site, but in short it's about posting titles or descriptions or parts of stuff that's not actually ready for posting, the evil part being that there are no promises what so ever that there will be more.

What I'm posting under the EAD-tag either isn't finished and might never be, or it could be considered finished only I'm not happy with it.

Either way: Enjoy. Or not.

Stockholm Syndrome and Misery

“Kurt... Your dad, I, look. He didn't come off in the best way, I have to admit that, but boo, you have to admit he has a point.” I do? “He loves you, and he wants what's best for you, and this? This isn't working. Yes, things are worse now because of Karofsky, but honestly? Things haven't really been okay for a long time.

“Karofsky might be who you're focusing on right now, but he's not the only one, and you know it. Even if they hadn't allowed him to come back, someone else would have taken his place, and then what? You gonna ask the school to expel them too? Where does it end? And what will you do when you can't hide behind coach Sylvester any longer?”

And that, that is pure resentment in her voice. Mercedes never had accepted the fact that coach Sylvester liked him better than her, that he'd stayed when she left, that he'd had success as a Cheerio. It had been, ultimately, why he'd left, even though the Cheerios would have been an excellent addition to his college application in a year, and he'd given it up. And for what? A friend that apparently isn't going to be the support he needs.

“You asked for my help. Well, here's what you should do. Your dad is trying to help you. Let him. Do as he says. Blend in more, you know, dress more normal, tone things down a little. I'll be your girlfriend, that should help – Mr H has always liked me. And you should start coming to church with me.

“I didn't want to push earlier, not when your dad was still recovering, but the way you reacted when he was in the hospital wasn't healthy. Striking out like that at your friends, when all we wanted to do was to help you, that... It just isn't right. If you feel as if you can't accept God in your heart, then you need help to do so. I'll help you, Kurt, as will your family. All you need to do is help us.”

He can barely believe his ears. Yes, it had become obvious earlier that Mercedes wasn't going to be the rock he needs her to be, but this? This isn't just not being a rock, this is being as unsupportive as is possible, this is being actively against him. No matter how she presents is, this is Mercedes Jones taking a stand against everything that he is.

And he thought she loved him as much as he loved her.

“Kurt?”

“Sorry. Look, Mercedes, this was... You gave me a lot to think about, okay? I... I need to talk to dad again, and. I'll call you later.”

He doesn't know if he will, of course, nor if he's going to talk to his dad any time soon, but he's desperate to get away. He's about to break down completely, and he needs to not be on the phone with Mercedes when he does so. He needs to not let her catch on to what he's really feeling.

She blabs on for a while, and he makes what he hopes is appropriate noises, but he's not listening. He just wants to go.

So. He already knows he can't be straight. He can't. Coming out, even to himself, wasn't something he just did. He hadn't labeled himself “gay” lightly, or for fun. It had just been the only truth that had fit.

Kurt remembers spending countless nights agonizing over it, being afraid, hoping he'd run into a girl that would do it for him. He never wanted to be gay, to be seen as abnormal and disgusting, he'd just learned to accept that he was, and then tried to not see himself as any of the slurs thrown at him.

It had been Mercedes herself, in a way, that had forced him to come to terms. She's gorgeous, with all the qualities he wants in a partner – with the exception of her gender. He's always seen this, and surely, if any girl should be able to make him feel anything but admiration and friendship, it should be her.

Up until that point he'd still held out in the hopes of being at least bi – Finn had been the last blow to his denial when it came to being attracted to boys, but he'd still not been ready to accept that he was gay – but realizing Mercedes had feelings for him, and it only causing him to panic... Yeah. Gay.

Brittany had only confirmed it. (Strange, how two of the most beautiful girls he knows both went for him.)

Could he try and play straight then? It didn't work last time, he's painfully aware of how much he failed then, but there's more at stake now. Because this time? He's not afraid he might be kicked out, he knows he'll be. He also knows what mistakes he made last time, as well as more about how a real teenage boy is supposed to act.

Maybe if this time he tried to copy not his dad, but Finn? That should be easier, surely, and not as obvious, right? He already knows he can perform on the football field, and while coach Beiste does have an acceptable kicker, surely she can use a back-up. There's also the fact that his face and body has changed since last year, and he has better control of his chest voice now. Maybe...

But no. Playing straight hurt and it would be even worse a second time, Kurt's pretty sure of that. This time he's experienced the freedom of not hiding, and even with the escalation it had caused in the bullying it had been worth it. Also, he's willing to bet on the fact that his dad's ultimatum wasn't about playing straight.

He can try, yes, and hope that his dad will come to his senses again, but that's a risky game. What if his dad doesn't change his mind again? What if he never gives up on having a straight son? If that's how it is, then Kurt playing straight won't help any, it'll only cause him suffering.

And for what? Trying to please a family that doesn't love him the way he is?

He'd called Mercedes in the hope that she would welcome him, that her family would allow him to stay with them, that they'd come through for him as they'd done for Quinn. Instead she'd sided with his dad. And that leaves him alone.

Mercedes is his only friend. Rachel tries to be one, when she isn't actively fighting him, but they're not that close. And if he was to go to her... Her dads would most likely offer him a place, yes, out of some sort of queer solidarity, but they would – or so he believes – also try and mediate. And there is no way Burt Hummel would allow the son he wants to turn straight to go live with Lima's only out gay couple.

As for the rest of the glee club, and the adults surrounding him... None of the other kids would back him up. Brittany might, yes, but she could just as easily do as Mercedes had. Staying with her could ruin things between her and Artie though, even if somehow it didn't manage to give Brittany the wrong ideas.

Mr Schue doesn't really care about him, that much is obvious, and Miss Pillsbury is frankly useless. Coach Sylvester... No, best not go there.

Besides, he knows how much these people care about a teen getting kicked out of their home. He'd gotten all the evidence he needs the year before, when no one had raised as much as a finger to help Quinn. Mercedes had been the only one, and to realize she is less willing to back him up than Quinn breaks his heart. It's reason enough to ensure that even should he decide to go with his dad's demands, he won't ever do so the way she had suggested.

He's thought of Mercedes as his best friend, his sister almost, and it's a hard painful blow to his heart that she apparently doesn't value him the same way he does her.

If he can't return home, and can't get any help in Lima, then there's only one solution: he needs to leave. Run away.

He's not exactly equipped to run away though. Sure, he's got his wallet and his cell, but that's it. No jacket, much too thin clothing, shoes unsuited for walking around outside... He needs more. Luckily he knows exactly where to get it.

For once the brutal reality of McKinley is working for him. His locker is filled to the max, and just about everything in it is something he can use now. There, a bag of unused gym clothes – the shorts and tee are mainly useless, sure, but it's clothing and so he takes them anyway. The sneakers are perfect. And over there, two complete outfits in case he needs to change during the day (he almost always has to) and of course his “emergency kits”, one a toiletry bag for dealing with slushies – complete with travel towel, soap, shampoo, moisturizer and clean underwear; one a well-stocked first aid kit and the last one a miniature sowing kit – with everything from needles, thread and pins to buttons, three kinds of fabric cleaner and patches.

He's got more though. A water bottle, some energy bars, dried fruit, nuts, chocolate... His old mp3 player, an emergency $50, a pair of out of style sunglasses, a rescue blanket, a thin rain cape and a paperback he hasn't gotten around to reading yet. All of it gets thrown into the gym bag.

He's still not done. Kurt knows that the chances of his dad letting him just leave aren't that great, if not because he wants his gay son at home so at least because it doesn't look good to have your kid run away, and that means he needs to disguise himself.

The theater department is just as sadly underfunded as everything else not football or cheerleading, meaning most of their supplies are donated. That makes it “normal” clothes though, and not exactly well documented. The chances of anyone realizing that the items he takes are missing are minimal, and even if they do he'll be far away by then. Dressed in baggy khakis, a ratty windbreaker, his sneakers and a OSU hoodie he looks nothing like his regular self – except for from the neck up.

He snatches a pair of blackrimmed glasses (outfitted with window glass, apparently) and nods. That looks better. Not perfect though... But. There's a pair of clippers in one of the drawers. It's a horrible thought, but getting away is more important than looks, and so Kurt gives himself a buzz cut.

The face he sees in the mirror doesn't look like his own. He'd be horrified, normally, but right now that's the effect he wants, and so he nods.

Time to get out.

Hiking through town is much easier now, when he's dressed somewhat appropriately, but he's still happy when he manages to catch a ride. The truck is from out of state, and the tired trucker barely looks at him, only nods when Kurt tells him – using his lower register – that he's looking to “get back” to school. The “visit with the girlfriend's family didn't go well” excuse is accepted, and Kurt breathes a little easier when they cross Lima city limits.

The secondhand store in XXX opens at ten. Kurt waits until 10:20, thinking he'll be too noticeable if he's hanging on the lock, waiting for them to open. The owner listens to him, looks at the outfit and the shoes Kurt offers up, and nods. He gets ripped off, he knows it, but in the end he doesn't care. What's important right now isn't what Kurt payed for those clothes, or what they're worth – it's what he can get in exchange.

And that is more than he'd dared hope for. A backpack, well-used but in good shape, a sleeping bag, a pair of boots that are scuffed but still in good condition, a second pair of pants and a small camping stove. He even manages to get a wool cap and a pair of thin gloves out of the deal. There's a hunting store nearby; he'll stop there and buy some warm socks, and some camping food, and move on. The sooner he gets out of Ohio, he thinks, the better.

For once the fact that his country is so divided will work for him.

#chocoholic fics #ead #ead 2024 #evil author day #glee #kurt hummel #scraps and snippets

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blamemma · 9 months

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maxiel?! (lol)

3am - DRAMA - Cause you only call me when it's 3am in California // I been drinking all day and I’m tired of, Waiting on you to make the first move, I’m waiting on you to notice - 502 words, max/daniel, hurt no comfort

"I think maybe Daniel you should stop being so cruel." Max speaks into his sim room his voice shaking, his phone on loudspeaker.

He'd ignored the first call, watched as it came through whilst he was driving around Spa on the sim, a new time to beat that Gianni had set. The second call came a minute later, and as his phone had lit up again with the name Daniel, his phone screen flooded with a photo of them sat thigh-to-thigh on a yacht in Monaco Vlad had taken. Max scrambled for his phone, hoping. He'd continued driving, the screen in front of him a distraction of the pain he'd been feeling all through the summer break.

Listened as Daniel had told him how much he missed him, how he wished Max was in LA with him right now, how he wants to kiss him everywhere, how he's dying to taste him again.

"Max, come on, don't be so difficult." Daniel's voice doesn't sound right through Max's speaker, sounds distant and far away, all traces of any softness gone, but then Max reminds himself it could also be the alcohol. Then he also remembers Daniel doesn't love him. "Tell me a bedtime story."

"Ok Daniel," Max counters, crossing the start line to begin a new lap. "how about the one where a guy tells the idiot he's been dating for 4 months that he loves him, and instead of that guy saying anything back, he leaves the apartment he's practically moved into and hops on a flight straight to Los Angeles the next day. Would you like to hear that story Daniel?"

Max is seething; it's been days of this. Of Daniel out with his friends all day riding dirt bikes or hiking trails and Max searching for crumbs of him on social media at all different times of day, and then like clock work, most days since he left, 3am in California, 12pm in Monaco, Daniel calls him, drunk out his mind, a full bottle of wine probably in his system.

"I don't like that one," Daniel slurs. Max grips the steering wheel in front of him hard, bites his lip to stop himself from screaming Neither do I. Tries not to imagine Daniel all hazy eyes and tousled curls, sprawled on his crisp white bed in LA, nothing on but brightly-coloured boxers.

Instead, he focuses on how he's perfected Les Combes, aced the first sector, how he's edged ahead of Gianni's sector two time by mere tenths. If he can beat this -- a small win.

It's almost comical that Max knows exactly what's coming next. Knows what question Daniel's going to ask; it's been the same one for the past nine days. If he doesn't laugh at the joke of it all, of their situation, he'll cry.

"If I come home," Home. Max aches and aches and aches. "Will you forgive me?"

"No." Max lies.

He misses the breaking zone at Stavelot and crashes into the barrier.

#honestly one of the BEST songs to blast out loud and sing along to whilst ur speeding down the motorway #i have screamed this song many a time #anyway i wrote like 1k of happy fic for this and then scrapped it cause it felt really disjointed #so have this lil snippet of angst instead i guess xxx #dr #mv #maxiel #my writing #i asked for these days ago sorry xx x

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ghost-bxrd · 8 months

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Jason slams the door shut.

“Dave,” he says calmly, “you’ve got five seconds to explain yourself.”

Dave winces, “Wish I could, boss. Kid just walked in here two hours ago and demanded to talk to you. Told him we don’t want nothin’ to do with his sort and to get lost. Thought the Bat mighta be close too, so I had most people file out and take the merchandise elsewhere.”

“Yeah,” McKenzie jumps in, looking slightly disturbed, “literally demanded we take him hostage. Kid was just standing there while everyone was moving stuff. Not lifting a finger. We tried leaving, too, but the kid threatened to sicc the Bat on us then and, uh, well. We didn’t do anything to him tho! Just tied him up a bit! He walked in there on his own, boss. Swear to god!”

Jason’s eye starts twitching.

“For real,” Jones grumbles, rounding the corner with two cups of coffee, “Never seen a kid with that much of a death wish before. Was just standin’ there in that room until Kenzie got him that chair.”

McKenzie snorts, accepting her cup of coffee graciously, “Kid was making me fucking nervous.”

— sneak-peak of chapter 3, what you’re longing for (you claim to abhor)

#not gonna lie might have to scrap that part #it’s really cracky #batfam fic rec #snippet #sneak peak #jason todd #Tim drake #Bruce Wayne #Batman #batfamily #Robin #red hood

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ringneckedpheasant · 4 months

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I want to write pentiment fic so bad but im so afraid of projecting 21st century ideas abt internalized homophobia onto these dudes from the 16th century. literally feel like I need to do years of outside research about monks

#I keep writing & scrapping little snippets of things like I just cannot get the tone right #marc.txt

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pupyr0arz · 17 days

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more random Gaz food. He’s trans btw. Is this dubcon? Probably. TLDR Kyle wants you two to have a baby and figures it’s best to ask forgiveness than ask permission. Also he doesn’t plan to ask for forgiveness. Accidents happen

You’re so trusting, so open and earnest. Kyle finds it beautiful, the way you lean into the relationship with a sigh of relief, settling down so easily he knows you feel the gentle intertwining in your soul just the same as he does. It’s really the only difference between the two of you, you offer everything about yourself up on a silver platter for Kyle, Kyle who is made a drooling, ravenous beast at the sight of you, and he hides himself under the bed and in the bug he tucks into your clothes. You’re just too naive, Kyle has seen too much of the world to let you get hurt by it.

He doesn’t plan to lie to you forever. He tucks away his claws and dulls his teeth. He’ll mask the smoke and stench of blood with lavender. He would for every day of his life without a hint of regret for you, but Kyle is going to tell gou everything one day, but people jump to conclusions. He doesn’t blame you, he doesn’t not trust you either, he just understands that you’re not working from a fully informed position and you might, god forbid, do something rash.

Kyle has a day or two when he begins preparations for the first attempt. He’s let you out of the house, off to complete errands with a cute smile on your face and a kiss to both your cheeks, and he waits at the door with baited breath until the sounds of your footsteps fade away. When the hallway falls silent he shuts the door with a click and takes a deep, steadying breath.

The two of you keep your condoms in the dresser besides the bed, and he combs the house in search of any other, even a stray one between the couch cushions. The extras are tossed out, wrapped up in toilet paper and hidden in other trash in case he doesn’t get the chance to bring it to the dumpster himself. He takes a safety pin and sits on the bed, cross cross apple sauce, and pokes holes in them, seven in each in a little star shape. You haven’t bought spermicidal condoms in a while now, Kyle’s persistent complaints about getting uncomfortable pains and horror stories about UTIs and rashes had made you toss out the whole package out of worry.

It warms his heart to see you so considerate of his health and comfort, and he doesn’t see the harm in indulging a reward for you, swallowing until you tear the sheets with your nails. You don’t notice, too preoccupied with the way Kyle is cleaning your cock with wide sweeps of his tongue, but he finds it cute anyways.

It’s pretty simple for him to lie about his own fertility. He usually takes his pills before his morning run while you putter around in the kitchen. Poor, sweet, trusting you, you don’t even think about touching the bottle, or keeping track yourself. The app he kept on his phone is deleted without fanfare, and honestly it just drives home how necessary this all is. How easy it would be for someone else to take advantage of you, and your sweet easy nature. Kyle is just planning for both of your futures.

#.bark #gaz #gaz x reader #cod #cod x reader #writing #snippet #another random scrap #notsafeforworkers #x reader

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definitelynotshouting · 1 month

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Last Sentence Game Tag

thanks to my beloved @conkopodwii for tagging me!!!! (sorry this took so long to get to orz)

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote-- fanfic, original writing, whatever you want-- and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence!

But it feels right to do this. It feels correct, to take every sordid scrap of good he can lay his hands on and hold it close, breathe it in, until he all but chokes from it.

im a rulebreaker so not only is this two sentences but im too tired to tag anybody rn wkdhwkdnsj so if u see this and we're moots consider urself tagged mwah mwah<3 have fun with the tiny hunger au scraps everybody

#shouting speaks #tag game #hunger au #my snippets #im like. incapable of only posting ONE sentence for these like i need to add CONTEXT AUAGHH #not to pat myself on the back but ''every sordid scrap of *good*'' is making my head spin excitedly I LOVE PLAYING WITH WORDS....#CHANGING THE ENTIRE TONE OF A SENTENCE WITH JUST ONE...... YWAAAAAAH BABEYYY #txt

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jessicas-pi · 9 months

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I conducted a vote on which fic snippet to share, and you chose the shipfic I'm writing out of spite!

(Sooo, just for a little context: this is from a short fic set in the same setting as my main Medieval AU, but not in the same universe/continuity as my main Medieval AU. Kinda like what SW Legends is to canon, yknow?)

---

“I’m the PRINCESSSSS!��

Ahsoka’s flailing arm nearly hit Rex in the face, but he dodged, and caught her around the middle, stopping her tipsy swaying. “Yes, Your Highness, we know.”

She threw an arm around his neck and squished her cheek against his pauldron. “I’m prettyyyyy.”

“If you insist, Princess.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

She swerved wildly, and he redirected her. “It would be unseemly for me to answer that, Princess.”

“Seemly. Seeeeeemly. Stupid Seemley Ress,” she said, slurring his name, then trying to correct herself. “Stupid Seemly Ress. Resss. Ressss! My tongue’sss not workin’, Ress!”

“So I hear.”

“I’m pretty. And I’m strong.”

“As everyone knows.”

“And I’m tall!”

“Acknowledged.”

“And I’m orange!”

“Correct.”

“AND I’m… I’mma walk on my own now!”

She shoved him away and took two wobbly steps forward before he had to catch her again.

“I can do it!” she whined. “I’m a lady. I’m twen’ny yearssss ol’. I can walk!”

She very clearly could not, so with a sigh, Rex bent over and lifted her completely, carrying her down the hallway. “All due respect, ladies do not get sloshed at formal dinners.”

“Isss no’ my fault,” she muttered. “Issstupid Korkie’s fault.”

“Right,” Rex said, ignoring her and the looks he was getting. Mostly sympathetic ones; everyone knew the Princess was trouble and was used to her getting into worse predicaments than this.

“Korkie says you liiiiike me,” she continued, singsongy. “He says you’re—you’re not sssaying an’thin ‘bout it cause of, uh. Uhhhhh. Clones! People don’t like you. Stupid people don’t. Good people do. Korkie says I like you.”

“That would be surprising, considering the amount of complaining you do whenever I’m around,” Rex deadpanned.

#korkie didn't even do anything poor guy #ahsoka's just throwing him under the bus like 'yep it is definitely korkie's fault that i got drunk.'#and rex doesn't buy it lol #soooo anyway. this is my very first foray into writing rexsoka and they're both firmly in the denial stage rn!#(I don't normally ship it due to the age gap but since they're only 3-4 years apart in this au and they met when she was 17 and not 14 #I figured if i was gonna spitewrite a rexsoka fic then the medieval setting would be the one to do it in!)#fun fact! i had contemplated actually having them be a couple in the ACTUAL medieval au and even came up with a few fun scenes!#but i scrapped it in favor of a funnier idea #but that meant i had to scrap the scenes too #BUT by writing a fic in the same setting but not the same universe i can still write those scenes!#fic snippet #fic sneak peek #spite writing #ahsoka tano #captain rex #rexsoka #annnyyyywaaaaaay posting now before i overthink and doubt myself uwu #cause writing semi-controversial ships that i know some of my tumblr buddies might not like makes me nervous lol #but hey i'm just turning it into a game. i'm calling it 'will i lose followers for posting about this ship and how many will i lose'#star wars medieval au

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phoenixiancrystallist · 1 month

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Sharing something light and fluffy for @cruelfeline to try to make up for the pain train that's coming ;D

"You and Cuff," Frey said. Bobbi stared, not sure what to make of that. "Said the same thing again." "Ah. Well, great minds think alike." Knell giggled a little. "But fools rarely differ." "Wow," Bobbi deadpanned "Wow." "What'd she say?" Frey asked, though the look on her face told Bobbi she probably already knew. "She's being rude."

#WIPpets (WIP snippets)#self-insert shenanigans #forspoken #forspoken fanfic #this is languishing in scraps until I find somewhere to put it but make no mistake it WILL go into the main fic somewhere! D<

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chocoholicannanymous · 2 months

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Evil Author Day #1

What I'm posting under the EAD-tag either isn't finished and might never be, or it could be considered finished only I'm not happy with it.

Either way: Enjoy. Or not.

AN: Takes place during New Moon, sort of, just after Bella’s graduation. It’s a reality where Bella never confronted Jacob(?) and Jacob never tried to make her understand.

Jacob phases for the first time in February (2006) and Bella graduates June 11th.

When Jake phases Bella and Quil connect. They grow closer and closer, and end up dating – Bella’s scared to let him in, but even more scared not to. After all, Jake wanted more and when she didn’t give it to him he disappeared. Couldn’t the same happen with Quil?

She gives him everything he wants, including sex – all for the same reason, to make him stay.

Then one day he’s gone.

The Beast You've Made

It wasn’t until the phone rang that Bella noticed how late it had become. She’d attributed the darkness to her pain, knowing she had more or less blacked out again, but in reality it was dusk. Slowly she walked over to the phone, already knowing it wasn’t him.

“Bells, honey? Everything okay?” Charlie.

“Yeah, just a bit preoccupied. Did you want something special?”

“I’m going to be a bit late home tonight, that okay with you?”

She wanted to scream “no”, but instead gave him the answer he expected and told him she’d be fine, and that there would be a plate in the fridge for him. Acting normal.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he told her not to stay up too long, tomorrow being a school day, and to drive carefully if she took my truck out.

His parting words, “you kids behave now”, felt like a blow to the face. Bella was glad that he hung up right after, since she would have been unable to provide him with a convincing reply. Instead she sat down, practically collapsing onto the floor. There was no reason for her to drive anywhere. There was no one there for her to misbehave with. There would not be anyone there for her again. Her boyfriend had left her. Bella was alone.

And all she could think was that it was her own fault for being stupid enough to trust in love again, stupid enough to let Quil Ateara into her life and her heart.

They’d been dating for three months now, and this Saturday was to have been a lazy, comfy day starting with lunch and ending... Happily. Instead it was Quil and her that had ended. Oh, he hadn’t broken up with her, had in fact not talked to her at all. He just hadn’t showed up, and was now more than five hours late. Bella knew though. It was over.

A normal girl would start wondering what had happened to her boyfriend, but she didn’t bother. There was no need. She knew.

It wasn’t the fact that he’d never been more than five minutes late – that, in fact, he was usually early – that told her this. No. It was intuition, and the fact that this had, after all, happened to her before. She was willing to bet every cent still residing in her meager college account that Quil was now as far out of her reach as if he’d moved to the moon.

Bella’d had enough. She had lost, again and again, and even though she’d been patched together after every break she had come out of it another person. Less. The thought of how much less she’d be this time wasn’t something she was willing to entertain. Was there anything left to be saved of Bella Swan?

She got up, and started moving around, following patterns, routines, acting like a robot. Zombie, a voice Bella couldn’t identify as her own echoed in her head, and she knew that it was where she was heading.

“Not again,” she whispered. “Not ever again.”

Straightening her back and focusing her mind on one thing, and one thing only, she grabbed the phone and the phone book. Less than a minute later it was ringing at the other end.

A girl answered, and Bella was shocked into silence. A girl? Wasn’t that just... so damn hypocritical?

“Hello?”

She steeled herself.

“Tell Sam congratulations. Game over, he wins.”

As she hung up she heard her trying to ask who it was. She didn’t care. She didn’t have it in her any longer. Instead she walked out of the kitchen, only to return and take the phone off the hook, before going up the stairs.

~*~*~*~

When Sam felt another wolf phase and touched Paul’s mind he was only mildly surprised. Yes, Paul wasn’t due for patrol yet for a couple of hours, but then he’d never been one to phase according to schedule. Even the newest members of the pack had more control than Paul – his temper ruled him, not the other way around, meaning he spent more time phased than not.

Then he felt Paul's anxiety, followed by a frantic “call”.

“Sam, you there?” He didn’t wait for Sam to ask, or even acknowledge him. “You need to get home, now. Emily’s been calling all of us, and she sounded really freaked. Man, I could practically smell her panic over the phone.”

Sam was running full speed, having turned towards the house before Paul had gotten even halfway through his message. Paul was taking over the rest of the patrol, but Sam didn’t even have it in him to think about it. He was worried. Emily had never done something like that before, and that meant something was very wrong. The thought that he knew what it was chilled him – Harry Clearwater had been having heart problems for a while now, and Sam was terrified that Emily’s emergency would be his death. He didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with that. Harry’s problems were partly his fault, after all. He carried the burden of his daughter’s pain, after Sam’d broken her heart, a burden that was doubled by the fact that Harry knew exactly why he’d left her – but couldn’t tell her. There was also the additional worry brought on by the knowledge that the Clearwaters carried the same gene that Sam did, making his son Seth a potential member of the pack.

He phased, still running, and burst through the door without bothering to stop and get dressed. Emily was sitting by the kitchen table, looking troubled, and for once Sam's own problems didn’t lessen just by being in her presence.

“What’s wrong? Is it Harry?”

“No. It’s... There was a call for you.” He didn’t understand. What had unsettled her so about a simple call? “It was a girl. I think... I think it was Bella Swan.”

“What?” Sam was floored. Why in the name of all that was holy would Bella Swan call him? Yes, he’d been the one to find her in the forest all those months ago, but since then they’d had no contact. She blamed him, rightfully, for Jake no longer being in her life. The things he’d told her before phasing ensured that. So why?

“Yeah. She just said to congratulate you. That you’d won. I’m guessing she knows about Quil.”

That would be Sam's guess as well, even though he still had a hard time understanding why she’d called here. Bella wasn’t confrontational, this much he knew from Jake’s memories, so why? He’d expected her to try contact Quil, of course, when he failed to appear for their date, to call him or come down to the reservation. He’d even stationed Jared with him for just that possibility. But she hadn’t done either, or had she?

“There’s more.” Emily’s voice shook him from his thoughts. “The way she sounded... There was something in her voice, Sam, something dark and empty. I don’t think she’s taking it well. In fact, she just might have broken beyond all repair this time. I... Sam, I think you’re wrong to do this. Really, really wrong.”

Emily had been angry with him for a long time for the way he had hurt Leah, and part of her had never really forgiven him (or herself) for it. This however... Sam’d never seen her like this, and he sure as hell had never heard that tone before. He just stared at her.

“Sam! That girl has been through too much, and you just took away the only thing that she had left. Now, get someone over there to check up on her, at once. Because if you don’t? The way she sounded tells me that otherwise there just might not be a Bella Swan around tomorrow.”

The venom in her voice shocked Sam as did her words. His beloved Emily was furious, and with him. Could she be right? Could loosing Quil really have pushed Bella Swan that far?

“Go! And God help you, Sam, if you come back here and tell me that girl is dead. Because if she is, then you killed her – and I don’t know if I can live with you then.”

Hearing Emily threatening him like that was physically painful – because Sam could tell she meant it. He looked at her for a few seconds longer, silently begging her to take it back only to be met with a hard glare. He ran back out and phased without stopping. As soon as his paws hit the ground he ran all out towards Forks and Charlie Swan’s house.

As Sam felt the others he closed his mind as best he could. Jake had phased now, as had Embry, and Sam didn’t want him to know what might be going on. He had no time to deal with him now.

“Jake. Phase back, now, and relieve Jared. Tell him to phase immediately and join us. Now!” Sam enforced the order with every bit of power he had, and only felt Jake's surprise for a second before he faded out. The others’ surprise, however, remained.

Not for long though, as Sam lost the fight to control his thoughts. Their emotions echoed through him, and he felt Embry push himself to the limit while fighting the panic. Bella was perhaps the most important thing in the world to his two best friends, and he knew that if something were to happen to her neither of them would recover.

Even Paul worried. His derogatory thoughts about “the leech lover” had had Quil and Jake both ready to tear him to pieces – yet still he worried. He might not like the girl, or rather her association with the Cullens, but he had too much honor to wish her dead. The thought that she might die because of them, they who were meant to protect... Yeah. Not even at his worst Paul was willing to have that on his head.

Then again, it wouldn’t be on his head, now would it? It would be all on Sam's. And so he ran. As if his life depended on it – knowing it just might. Emily thought Bella Swan might try and kill herself because of what he had done. He had been the one to take Jake from her, and then, only a few hours ago, he had done the same with Quil. His intentions had been good, but.

If she tried to harm herself now it would be on him.

He was supposed to be a protector – the thought of causing an innocent human being's death was almost crippling. He didn’t want to know what the reality of it would do. On top of that there was Emily, his beloved imprint. Loosing her would cripple him, might even kill him, and she’d practically promised to leave should Bella die because of him.

And then, of course, there was the very real risk of either Jake or Quil killing him, should anything happen to their beloved Bella. Realistically Quil wasn’t that much of a threat – if push came to shove Sam could always order him to stand down, but Jake... There was no way Sam’d be able to control Jacob Black in that particular worst case scenario.

Jake’s love for Bella nearly rivaled an imprint. He’d refused to step up as Alpha so far, but for this? He wouldn’t hesitate to claim his birthright for a second if it meant avenging Bella. After all, the only reason he hadn’t done so already just to override Sam's orders and be with her was the very real issue of her safety.

He ran even harder.

The Swan house was dark and neither Bella’s truck nor Charlie’s cruiser was in place. Sam still phased back and let myself in with the (supposedly) hidden spare key in order to search the house.

Bella’s scent was still strong, among the fading aroma of what must have been a very nice meal. There was cake on the counter, burnt-out candles on the table and dvd:s on the living room table. Everything reminded him of the date Quil hadn’t shown up for. No signs of Bella, or clues to her whereabouts.

When Sam phased back he was met by anticipation. Jake was guarding Quil now, but the others were phased and ready for whatever their Alpha might need.

“No sign of her. Any ideas where she might be?”

“There’s that meadow where we found her with the leach,” Jared offered, and they all shared the sudden flashback. A nod, and he was off.

Embry offered to search First Beach and the cliffs, leaving Sam with Paul and not a fucking idea. Except there seemed to be something forming in Paul’s mind.

“What?”

“It might be nothing, but... I think I should check out the leaches’ place.”

It made sense, in a twisted way. Bella had thought of the Cullens as a second family. The people at the rez might have seen their departure as cause for celebration, but for her it had been the start of her downwards spiral.

She had been happy at that house, had believed herself safe there. It wasn’t really that crazy to think she might have returned there now – not when Sam had ripped every last remaining shred of happiness from her.

“Snap out of it, Sam.” Paul had already left, sensing the agreement and deciding not to wait for Sam to regain his focus. Smart move.

Sam was out of ideas, but he simply couldn’t do nothing, and so he ran patrol. The others would soon check in. Maybe the spirits would be benevolent and one of them would have news.

“Sam?” Embry. “No sign of her here, and I can’t pick up her scent either. Do you have somewhere else in mind for me? If not, I’ll head over to Emily’s.”

“Do that.”

The meadow was a bust too, and Sam's heart sank. He was a dead man.

“Sam!”

His head snapped up. Paul. He’d almost forgotten about him – and how that was even possible he didn’t want to think about – but now everything Sam had was focused on him. It sounded like Paul had news, and again Sam started praying.

How ironic, his brain supplied. Paul of all people being the one to succeed? Be– And he ripped my thoughts into order. He needed to focus, not get ahead of myself.

“Yes? Did you find anything?”

And then he was hit by the smell of Bella Swan, as it filled Paul’s nose. She was there!

“I’m on my way!”

“Sam, I’m not sure... There’s something off here...” And Paul disappeared, phasing out. Sam could understand him, even after being empty for months the Cullen house would reek – assaulting his sensitive nose in a way that was physically painful. It would be easier, even if not by much, to stand the smell and to investigate in human form.

Arriving Sam longed to phase myself, but instead he took the time to sniff out as much as he could. Bella had been here, of that he was certain, and not long ago. Her truck was still here, which meant that even if Sam couldn’t detect her presence it was possible that she was either in the house or somewhere near.

He walked up to the house on two legs, nose twitching and blood pounding in his ears. There was glass on the porch, and a large hole in one of the windows. He didn’t know why, but obviously it had made it easy for Paul to enter. Sam followed him.

Once inside he was hit by a rusty smell that made my stomach turn. Blood. Was that what Paul had meant about something being off? Sam inhaled deeply, steeling himself against the bleach. There was no signs of any living beings in the house, except for Paul, and Sam couldn’t smell any humans other than Bella.

Did that make it her blood?

If it was, then where was Bella? “No living beings in the house” he’d thought – but that didn’t rule out her being here.

“Sam.”

“What have you found?”

Paul was on edge, Sam could tell, both from the situation and the location, but he held himself together just fine anyway. He was doing much better that Sam, and Sam found himself leaning on that. He was Alpha. Paul was only third – yet right then he was running the show, and Sam was letting him.

“There’s blood, Bella’s blood. Some on the window – I’m assuming that’s where she entered, it was broken and open when I came here – as well as just inside it. Not much, probably just from the broken glass.”

He relaxed a little.

“But Sam, there’s more. I could smell it, smell her, so I looked around. She was in the bathroom over there,” he gestured, “and there... I think she washed it down, but she bled in there. A lot. And there was someone else here, a second car – I couldn’t pick up a scent, but whoever it was must have taken Bella with them.”

“I think– We should be looking at the hospital.”

Sam swallowed. The hospital. If Paul thought she’d gone there, knowing what we all did about Bella’s reluctance to it, then he had a good reason. Only, “good” wasn’t exactly the right word.

“Okay, we should–”

The howl was desperate and panicked, and ripped through their souls. They both phased without thinking and were met by a frantic Embry.

“Harry, Harry Clearwater, he’s dead... And–”

It just got worse from there.

#chocoholic fics #ead #ead 2024 #evil authos day #twilight #scraps and snippets

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sylkiddsey · 3 months

Text

Prompt: “Are you okay?”

Post 7.21

Sylvie has Olivia to blame for this new…feeling she’s developed for Casey. It’s entirely inappropriate and ridiculous, but her friend had to plant the seed.

Before, Sylvie’s never ever looked at Matt that way. He’s freaking Casey. Gabby’s ex husband and the same man she’s known for nearly half a decade. It never even crossed her mind until the stupid double date she set up.

Olivia was supposed to be the one crushing (or at least feeling) on Matt Casey. Not her. She thought they’d be a perfect pair, but turns out she just set up the worst turn of events in history.

If she’s dishing out blame, a little of it has to go to Matt. Yes, Olivia did plant the idea, but she didn’t buy it right away. She thought her friend was crazy, but then Matt started looking at her.

He’s holding eye contact longer and lingering and he’s not making it easy to bury whatever this feeling is. Something feels like it shifted on his end, but she’s probably reaching. She’s probably inventing a ridiculous narrative and there is nothing there.

There’s nothing there. It’s merely a pique per se. It’ll go away as soon as it blossomed and life will be okay.

Until then, she’s made a vow to ignore Olivia’s spin class invitations and also avoid Matt.

She thinks that’s how the problem began. It’s true that they’ve been spending one on one time more than ever. The new closeness has simply confused her. If she keeps distance, she can uncross the wires and go back to thinking of Matt as Casey.

He’s just the Captain at 51.

Her plan to dodge him is put on pause because they have unfinished business. When she walks into Molly’s after stalling in her car, Matt’s roman candle burn isn’t bandaged.

That’s not really the issue. She knows it’s been a few days so it’s okay to stop reapplying bandages, but she knows him. He doesn’t take care of himself and she needs one last long look to ensure it’s not infected.

She’s just doing her due diligence as a paramedic. It’s simply work.

Casey looks away from his conversation with Severide, waving her over.

See? Gestures like that make this really really hard.

She inhales a large gust of air and then joins her friends.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you around here in awhile,” Casey comments.

She’s been avoiding him for this very reason. He’s the reason she’s keeping her distance and he noticed. Why did he notice?

No. Nope. She’s sure he’d notice anyone dodging Molly’s. All of 51 is usually there every night.

“Yeah. Just been busy,” she fibs.

Stella dries a glass behind the bar. “What would you like to drink, girl?”

Alcohol is a bad idea. It loosens her lips and she’s not going to get caught blabbing these new developments.

“Uh, just a club soda,” she replies.

Severide wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Are you quitting alcohol or something?”

No, she’s quitting these awkward feelings. She’s so nervous she’s convinced everyone at the bar can read this secret right off her.

She’s going to check Casey’s burn, find Cruz to busy her time and then leave.

“I’m just not feeling it tonight is all.”

Stella hands her the non-alcoholic beverage while chastising her kind of ex-boyfriend.

Foster pops up next to her and she’s convinced this can’t get worse. Of all people, Emily will be able to read her like a damn book.

She needs to leave or at least pull it together. She sips the soda.

Matt frowns a little, watching her every move which again, does not help. He needs to stop caring.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Your hand is shaking.”

Oh my god! She needs to leave. This is humiliating and everyone is going to know if she doesn’t pull herself together.

It’s freaking Matt Casey. She shouldn’t feel this nervous around him.

She diverts the conversation away from her physical symptoms of this new…feeling. “I should probably check your burn one last time to make sure it’s not infected.”

“It’s fine.”

“Casey, let me verify that, please?” She requests. Yes, she wants to ensure he’s fine, but she also wants to bury this whole weird week away. She can’t do that when his injury is still on her mind.

He complies and rotates on the stool so she has a full view. She barely inches forward and doesn’t make any attempt to touch the skin around his pulse point this time. She only needs visual confirmation.

It should be quick and easy, but it’s not.

Foster knocks her hip into hers. She’s half convinced her ambo partner somehow knows and it’s an intentional act because the momentum shoves her right into Matt.

She stumbles in between his legs, hands pressed between their chests. She’s bracketed between his thighs and blushing harder than she ever has when his hand lands on the small of her back.

The universe is so cruel.

She blinks hard, swallowing the lump in her throat. She thought the intense eye contact in the bunk room was bad, but now she’s millimeters away from his face.

Everyone in the bar has to know by now that she’s crushing (or whatever) on him. In any other instance, she’d find this situation awkward, sure, but not like this. Normally, she’d pull away with a laugh and a joke, but she’s paralyzed against him.

She expects several different pairs of eyes on them, but Matt’s the only one looking at her.

He laughs a little. “Woah, you okay?”

No. No. No. She’s not. Something has changed and she’s not okay.

She has to go. She can’t stay wrapped in his arm another second even if the tiny, deranged part of her wants to.

Sylvie tries to step away casually, but she reels back so hard that she smacks into Severide who is now between her and Foster.

“Geez, Brett,” he comments.

“S-Sorry,” she stutters. She averts her eyes away from Matt who is still looking at her curiously. “I gotta go talk to Cruz about you know, room dog stuff. I’ll catch you all later.”

With that pathetic lie, she snags her glass and beelines towards where Cruz and Chloe are sitting in the back.

She’ll make a fake conversation so no one at the bar thinks she lied and then leave.

She’s doubling her efforts to avoid Matt.

#brettsey #based on a prompt #prompts #sylkiddsey prompts #Pre canon owns me #this is a very old snippet from a longer work I scrapped

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peonypyxels · 2 years

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and they were wives.✨

#it only took me 4 months to get back to working on the scrap books #snippets of elf & dylan being domestic #they have their first grown up house together & everything #ts4 #s4 #s4 edit #sims 4 #sparks #sparks legacy #gen 5 #ts4 legacy

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pigeonwit · 4 months

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for the tag game, howl au? i’m getting howl’s moving castle vibes but even if it’s not that it still sounds cool

bursts through the wall did someone say howl au?

the howl's moving castle au is something i've been noodling on since. probably a little bit after run boy run? so i'd say maybe 2020. i didn't really have any creative outlets in secondary school and college so i'd just be watching movies and shows and going 'hm what if blorbo was there' and behold... howl au

the plot is very similar to the movie; davey is a working class kid trying to make money for his family as the pressures of war close in. manhattan is gathering as many wizards as they can to enlist and any who refuse are charged with treason, the most notable being jack, 'the ranger of the wastes' (i had to find a way to work the cowboy thing in there somewhere) who fled the refuge academy moments before he was expected to enlist and has been being hunted by pulitzer (and supposedly wreaking havoc across manhattan) ever since. like book!sophie, davey is a powerful speaker, though he's always resigned himself to simply being his family's caretaker and ensuring his sibling's success, so he's never noticed this about himself; but magic is a science based in symbols and patterns, and davey has a gift for that - so when he meets the ranger purely by chance, it puts a target on his back for the magical entities that are hunting jack down. he's found by another wizard, 'the dealer' (race) who curses him to be unable to speak. so davey seeks out the ranger to break his curse.

i don't have much of a plot outline beyond that - i don't want to follow the movie beat for beat and i really do love the war imagery in newsies and the idea of words being one of the key things that ended that war, so i want to focus more on that. but in terms of characters, i have race as the witch of the wastes (he's not exactly a jilted ex-lover but he IS still intent on hunting jack down and taking his heart), spot as calcifer, crutchie as markl (though he's more like michael from the book) and katherine as,,, kind of madame suliman? she's a powerful wizard in pulitzer's service, but she's not as antagonistic as suliman.

and a snippet for you:

“There you are, Davey,” says a voice smooth as spiced wine, “so sorry I’m late, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

[...]

“Who… Are you?” The little boy asks. His eyes have the same impossible wideness to them as Les, the curiosity that’s only found in children – an eagerness to see as much of the world as possible, even if you can’t yet understand it. David smiles, pressing his hand to the glass of the mirror.

“My name’s Davey.” He says, and as he says it, he knows it’s true. Something spreads within him, a warmth that loosens his muscles and straightens his spine, something that makes him stand tall and unafraid. And he knows now that he is not David Jacobs anymore.

“My name’s Francis.”

[...]

“Jack!” Davey screams over the roar of tearing paper. “Spot!”

The two turn in his direction, Jack’s eyes wide as he cradles his heart in his hands.

“Davey?” His mouth shapes the word, but it’s drowned out by the cracks of falling brick.

“I know how to help you now!” Davey cries as the world is ripped from under him, rivers of watercolour streaming into an inky black abyss. Jack sprints as Davey’s torn away, the hills billowing beneath his feet like loose canvas. He’s yelling something, one arm outstretched, bleeding streaks of paint flying from the torn earth to his glowing fingers-

“Find me in the future!”

#this is less of a snippet and more like three scraps glued together but you see the vision yes? you see it? the vision?#howls moving castle au #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #newsies #pigeon scribbles #fic thoughts #anon #ask

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