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Happy Spooktober đđđđâ¤ď¸

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 âââl âââââitâ ââtle guys for the Hidden Depths bundle on steam! please check it out, every game is worth your time and brainpower and is soooo normal
SECRET
What if Fezco was your brothers best friend.
Fez always showed up like he belonged there.
Not loudly. Not like he was trying to take up space. He just⌠existed in rooms like gravity, leaning against doorframes, hands tucked into hoodie pockets, eyes steady and unreadable. He was your brotherâs best friend, had been for years, which meant he was always around.On the couch late at night, in the kitchen stealing cereal straight from the box, on the porch smoking while the rest of the house slept.
And you noticed him long before you admitted it to yourself.
At first, it was stupid little things. The way he remembered what book you were reading at the moment without telling him. The way his voice softened when he said your name, like it meant something different in his mouth than it did in anyone elseâs. The way heâd look at you for just a second too long, then glance away like heâd been caught thinking something he shouldnât. The way he kept calling you little pet names like âMaââ made your stomach flip.
You told yourself it was nothing.
It had to be nothing.
Because Fez was off-limits. Because your brother trusted him with everything. Because crushing on him felt like breaking some unspoken rule you didnât even remember agreeing to.
But rules get blurry when youâre alone in the kitchen at 1 a.m., barefoot on cold tile, and Fez is there too,sleeves pushed up, hands braced on the counter, eyes following you like heâs trying not to.
âYou still awake?â he asks, voice low, careful.
You nod. âCouldnât sleep.â
âYeahâ he says quietly. âMe neither.â
Silence settles between you, thick but not uncomfortable. Just⌠charged. Like something waiting to happen if one of you moves the wrong way.
Thatâs how it always starts.
Little moments. Stolen glances. Sitting closer than necessary. Your knee brushing his on the couch, neither of you pulling away. Fez walking you to his store even though itâs literally 10 minutes away, just to make sure youâre âgood.â
One night, it rains. Hard. The kind that traps you inside whether you want it to or not.
Your brother crashes early, exhausted, and suddenly itâs just you and Fez in the living room, the TV playing something neither of you is watching. Thunder rattles the windows. The lights are low.
Fez shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. âYou ever feel like⌠youâre not supposed to want certain things?â
Your heart stutters. âYeah.â
He looks at you then. Really looks at you. And for the first time, he doesnât look away.
The moment stretches. You swear you can hear your heartbeat louder than the rain.
âI sorta think about youâ he admits, his words slurred. âMore than I should.â
Your breath catches. âMe too.â
Thatâs the line. The one you both cross together.
After that, everything becomes secret.
Texts sent late at night. Fingers brushing in hallways. Fez sneaking into your room through the window like something out of a bad romance movie, whispering your name like itâs sacred. You sit on the floor together, backs against the bed, knees touching, talking about everything and nothing, dreams youâve never said out loud, fears you pretend donât exist.
Sometimes his hand finds yours. Sometimes his forehead rests against yours. Sometimes you almost kiss,and then donât, because the wanting is somehow worse and better than the act itself.
When you finally do kiss him, itâs soft. Careful. Like heâs afraid you might disappear if he presses too hard. His thumb brushes your jaw, tentative, reverent.
âYou sure maâ?â he murmurs.
You nod, eyes burning. âIâve been sure.â
After that, sneaking around becomes second nature. Stolen moments behind closed doors. Lingering hugs that say more than words ever could. A shared look across the room when your brotherâs there, full of things no one else can see.
Itâs risky. Itâs complicated. Itâs messy.
But still, you both donât care enough to end this.
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 đđ and the inbox open for requests, questions & vents. dm and comment to b on taglist, ENJOY!!

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.
â Whoâs Isaiah?â he asked, voice low.
She turned, wiping her hands on a towel. âFez, please donât startâŚâ
âHeâs sendin you heart eyes, talkin about you lookin fine. Whatâs that about?â
She stepped closer, the hurt already rising. âYou can check the messages, I never even answered him.â
âStill looks like you lettinâ him.â
âIâm not lettinâ anything, Fez. Heâs just some guy from the team. You really think Iâd play you like that?â
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. âThen why he feel like he can talk to you like that, huh?â
Her voice cracked. âBecause some guys donât care if a girlâs taken, Fez! You think thatâs on me?â
The heat in the room wasnât just from the oven anymore. They stood inches apart, words tumbling faster than either of them could take back.
He muttered, âYou been sayin you were busy. I thought maybeââ
âBusy? You mean when I went to that early college open house? Because Iâm tryinâ to get ahead, Fez! I told you that!â
He stared at her, jaw tight. The playlist skipped to another song, something soft and slow that made the silence heavier. âI donât know what to think right now,â he said finally.
That line cut deeper than shouting ever could. She swallowed hard, blinking fast. âThen donât. Just go.â
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 theyâd planned all of it looked staged for a version of them that doesnât 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 ďżźsweatshirt 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. âYo. You good? You been ghostinâ the team.â
She shrugged, eyes on the keypad. âJust needed space.â
He didnât buy it. âThis about Fez?â
That broke the wall sheâd been holding up. She told him about the messages, the argument, the way Fez didnât believe her. Elias listened quietly, jaw clenching more with every word. When she finished, he said,
âYou ainât gotta defend yourself to nobody who donât trust you, well I hope it works it over your endâ
She gave a weak laugh. âYeah, well. Guess thatâs done now.â
By the next passing period, heâd had enough of seeing Isaiah grin like nothing happened. He cornered him by the lockers. âYou knew she was taken,â he said, voice low. Isaiah just smirked. âShe ainât now, is she?â
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 didnât hear about it right away. She was in class, trying to focus on equations that didnât make sense anymore, when people started murmuring and passing around a video. She didnât 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 didnât move closer, didnât speak. Just finished paying, eyes on the counter. Fez didnât 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 wasnât 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