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Happy Spooktober 🎃😈🐍😎❤️

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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VERY IMPORTANT NEWS FOR EVERY DOCTOR WHO FAN
So incase anyone wasn't aware one of the regions, like Brazil and the US, outside of the UK that has a substantial Who following is China. Unlike the former two though China has it's own bespoke merch line and, for whatever reason, they market the show like it's Miffy or Hello Kitty.
They're so adorable, I love how Eleven looks completely Gormless and Ten looks infuriating to talk to. Both are very accurate
Twelve's attack eyebrows and Fifteen's Moustache are so cute too.
Got to draw a bunch of ███l █████it█ ██tle guys for the Hidden Depths bundle on steam! please check it out, every game is worth your time and brainpower and is soooo normal
HOW MUCH IS WEED?
rue, jules, elliot, you. truth or dare?
elliot (euphoria) x fem reader
a/n - first elliot fic we uppp. this is my longest fic yet... not much of a love triangle but more of a longing complication? also song has nothing to do w the fic, the song title js fits. as always thank u for the support 💋💋 and the inbox open for requests, questions & vents. dm and comment to b on taglist, ENJOY!!
CALL ME BACK
What if, you broke up with Fezco?
The neon sign outside the store buzzed faintly, casting that same washed out glow through the window, the kind Fez barely noticed anymore. Nights blurred together lately, same counter, same chair, same quiet, but something about them had shifted. Or maybe something was just missing.
He sat there with his phone in his hand, thumb hovering over your name like it had been every night for the past week. It still felt wrong seeing your contact pinned at the top, like nothing had changed, like you hadn’t walked out over something so small it didn’t even make sense anymore. That was the worst part, he couldn’t even replay the argument properly. It hadn’t been loud, hadn’t been dramatic. You’d just wanted him to talk, to explain what he was thinking, what he was feeling. And he’d shut down, like always. Said something short, something careless. You got quiet. Then you left.
He told himself at the time you’d come back. Or he’d fix it later. He always thought there was more time.
Now the silence felt permanent.
He unlocked his phone again, scrolling up through your messages. Dumb stuff. Memes. You complaining about something random, him replying hours later like it was nothing, and you still answering like you’d been waiting. His jaw tightened slightly at that. You had been patient with him, way more than he deserved.
He typed out a message.
“you good?”
He stared at it for a long moment, then sighed and deleted it. Too casual. Like nothing happened. Like he didn’t think about you every five minutes.
He leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand over his face. “Man…” he muttered under his breath, the word disappearing into the empty store. Ashtray was asleep in the back, the TV playing something low and irrelevant. Everything felt still in a way that made his chest feel tight.
He picked up the phone again before he could think too much.
hey
Sent.
The second it went through, he felt it, regret, nerves, something twisting low in his chest. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. But not saying anything was worse now. Waiting felt worse.
Minutes passed. Too many. He checked if the message delivered. It had. No reply.
“Yeah… aight,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.
He lasted maybe ten minutes before opening the chat again.
i ain’t mean what i said
He paused, staring at the words. That wasn’t even all of it. It didn’t explain anything. It didn’t explain him.
Delete.
He tried again, slower this time.
i just… i don’t be sayin shit right sometimes
That felt closer. Not perfect. Not enough. But real.
He sent it before he could overthink it.
Silence again.
It stretched, filled the space around him, made everything feel louder, the hum of the fridge, the flicker of the sign, his own breathing. He stood up suddenly, pacing once behind the counter like he needed to shake something off, then sat back down just as quickly.
“Damn,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw.
Before he could stop himself, he hit call.
The ringing felt too loud in his ear. Each second dragged, made him think maybe you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you shouldn’t. He almost pulled the phone away.
Then click.
“…hello?”
He froze for half a second, like he hadn’t actually expected to hear your voice.
“Yeah,” he said, quieter now. “Hey.”
There was a pause, not empty, just heavy with everything sitting between you.
“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” he admitted.
“I almost didn’t,” you said, honest, but not cold.
“Yeah… that make sense.”
Another pause followed, softer this time. He could picture you without trying, where you might be, the way you probably looked down at your phone before answering. It made something in his chest ache.
“Why you callin, Fez?” you asked, your voice calm but careful.
He exhaled slowly, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “I been thinkin,” he said. “A lot.”
A faint breath of something like disbelief came from you. “That’s new.”
He huffed lightly. “Yeah, I know.”
Silence again, but it didn’t feel as sharp now. More like something waiting.
“I ain’t good at that shit,” he continued, quieter. “Talkin. Sayin what I mean. You know that.”
“I do,” you replied.
“And I know that ain’t fair to you.”
Your grip tightened slightly on the phone, though he couldn’t see it. That was closer than he’d gotten before.
“I just…” he stopped, frustrated, searching for words he never really learned how to use. “I ain’t wanna lose you over somethin stupid.”
Your chest tightened at that, your voice softer when you spoke. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
That question had been sitting there, unanswered, since the moment you left.
He didn’t respond right away. When he did, his voice was low, honest in a way that didn’t try to dress itself up.
“’Cause I thought I had more time.”
That landed heavier than anything else.
You closed your eyes briefly, swallowing past the tightness in your throat. It would’ve been easier if he’d said something wrong again. Easier to stay mad. But this, this felt real.
“I ain’t askin you to just come back,” he added after a moment. “I know it don’t work like that.”
You stayed quiet, listening.
“But I miss you,” he said, simple, steady. “I miss you bein around. Talkin. Even when you on my ass about shit.”
A small breath left you, almost a laugh, but not quite.
“I keep pickin up my phone like you still gon’ text me somethin random,” he went on, softer now. “Like nothin changed.”
You looked down at your screen, thumb brushing the edge of it.
“I don’t know if we can fix it,” you said carefully.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I know.”
There was a pause, longer this time, but it didn’t feel like distance. It felt like something fragile, something forming instead of breaking.
“But…” you started, your voice quieter now.
He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush you.
“But I’m still here.”
He let that sit for a second, like he didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to mess up something small but important.
“Yeah,” he said finally, just as soft. “I’m here too.”
And for the first time since that night, the silence between you didn’t feel like something final. It felt like space, uncertain, slow, but still open.
———————–——————————————
man i miss him:( pls let me know what i should write about, my requests are open!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The way things go
Pairing : Fezco x fem!reader
-
The night was supposed to be perfect. Chinese take-out boxes stacked on the counter, the smell of cookies in the oven, her playlist playing in the background while she danced barefoot across the kitchen tile.
She was laughing until she noticed Fez had gone quiet, the glow of her phone lighting his face.
“ Who’s Isaiah?” he asked, voice low.
She turned, wiping her hands on a towel. “Fez, please don’t start…”
“He’s sendin you heart eyes, talkin about you lookin fine. What’s that about?”
She stepped closer, the hurt already rising. “You can check the messages, I never even answered him.”
“Still looks like you lettin’ him.”
“I’m not lettin’ anything, Fez. He’s just some guy from the team. You really think I’d play you like that?”
The air between them went tight, music still playing from her phone, the cookies burning just a little behind her. He dropped the phone on the counter, the sound sharp in the soft kitchen. “Then why he feel like he can talk to you like that, huh?”
Her voice cracked. “Because some guys don’t care if a girl’s taken, Fez! You think that’s on me?”
The heat in the room wasn’t just from the oven anymore. They stood inches apart, words tumbling faster than either of them could take back.
He muttered, “You been sayin you were busy. I thought maybe—”
“Busy? You mean when I went to that early college open house? Because I’m tryin’ to get ahead, Fez! I told you that!”
He stared at her, jaw tight. The playlist skipped to another song, something soft and slow that made the silence heavier. “I don’t know what to think right now,” he said finally.
That line cut deeper than shouting ever could. She swallowed hard, blinking fast. “Then don’t. Just go.”
He hesitated only a second, eyes flicking from her face to the cookies still waiting on the tray. Then he grabbed his keys and left.
The door clicked shut, leaving her in the dim light and the smell of something sweet going bitter.
She still baked the cookies. Still ate one, warm and falling apart, while tears blurred her vision. The couch setup, the blankets, the movies they’d planned all of it looked staged for a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore.
She cleaned up the crumbs, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed where the quiet felt like punishment. The next morning she looked almost put together.
Wearing an off the shoulder camouflage sweatshirt in a light neutral pale grey, The neckline is wide, worn pulled down on one side to expose a shoulder. For the bottoms she's wearing a pair of high waisted shorts in a soft pastel pink.
She has on white socks paired with sandals, hair pulled back in a slick back high ponytail. Her purse hanging on her shoulder as she has her phone on her hand. The kind of effortless look that fooled everyone except the people who knew her.
Elias noticed first, tall enough to spot her across the hallway crowd. He caught up to her near the vending machines. “Yo. You good? You been ghostin’ the team.”
She shrugged, eyes on the keypad. “Just needed space.”
He didn’t buy it. “This about Fez?”
That broke the wall she’d been holding up. She told him about the messages, the argument, the way Fez didn’t believe her. Elias listened quietly, jaw clenching more with every word. When she finished, he said,
“You ain’t gotta defend yourself to nobody who don’t trust you, well I hope it works it over your end”
She gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s done now.”
By the next passing period, he’d had enough of seeing Isaiah grin like nothing happened. He cornered him by the lockers. “You knew she was taken,” he said, voice low. Isaiah just smirked. “She ain’t now, is she?”
That was it. Voices rose, a shove, and then the hallway exploded in noise. Elias having Isaiah on the ground as he punched his face leaving him with a bruised lip and black eye. Security rushed in before it could go too far, but phones were already recording, whispers already flying.
She didn’t hear about it right away. She was in class, trying to focus on equations that didn’t make sense anymore, when people started murmuring and passing around a video. She didn’t even have to look to know. Her stomach dropped anyway.
After dismissal , she just wanted quiet. But she remembered she is the football manger which means being there during practice , games, that sucks right now. Feeling a vibration her phone send she opened the football group chat.
The coach asking for some stuff to restock, giving the message a thumbs up emoji. Placing her book bag next to the empty seat beside her. Beginning to drive to the store. Her white Highlander still smelled faintly of vanilla. The radio played low, a song that used to remind her of Fez.
Inside the bright aisles, she moved fast. Powder, snacks, checkout. Then she froze halfway through a glance at the next register.
Fez with Ashtray.
Her heart jumped. She didn’t move closer, didn’t speak. Just finished paying, eyes on the counter. Fez didn’t say anything either, but he looked really looked taking in the outfit, the soft sweater, the sandals, the way she still managed to look like sunlight even when she was hurting.
When she walked out, he stayed where he was, jaw set, something heavy in his chest. She never turned around, never saw the way his hand tightened on the strap of the bag he was carrying.
Outside, the air was cool. She loaded the Gatorade into the car, sat behind the wheel, and took one long, shaky breath before starting the engine.
The song on the radio changed again something slow, something that felt like an ending and she pulled out of the lot without looking back.
Fez watched the taillights fade, the ache settling deeper than before.
Neither of them said a word, but both felt the same thing: maybe this wasn’t the end, not yet, but for now it hurt like it was:(
lexi: let's just hug it out. come on, hug it out
lexi, fez, ash, rue and jules: *struggle into a group hug*
fez: who just took my wallet?
rue: sorry, habit