#But now it's done and I'm back on the track :)))

[n0vazsq]

Mi vida | FC43 x Reader

pairing . . . franco colapinto x rbr!driver!reader

summary . . . What's better than one chaotic F1 driver? Two! And that's the story of how you got together with your boyfriend, Franco

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! story set few days before monza! cringe-ish (??) dialogue at the end?

faceclaim . . . girls from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . woohoo!! finally wrote a smau again and its for my boy franco!!! kinda short but yeah i made franco and y/n gen z pr nightmares!! hope yall enjoy it <3

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, yourbsf and 2.3M others

yourusername look at my driver dawg he's losing this race Tagged: francolapinto

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maxverstappen1 he's in a williams

yourusername and?

maxverstappen1 him losing shouldn't be a surprise

francolapinto 😔

yourusername MAX DONT BULLY HIM

maxverstappen1 ill make sure to tell him sorry when i lap him

francolapinto what did i ever do to you max

maxverstappen1 say lewis is your idol

username1 i live for the rbr teammates and franco fighting

username2 raw. next question

username3 girl went to f1 and became a whole new person (cough franco terroriser cough)

yourusername i need to put him in his place, I AM the one with the redbull seat not him

username3 Y/NRPLIED HOLY SHIT

username4 praying for their pr managers

username5 i just know they made max's life a living hell

username6 i'm shaking for the interviews because i know y/n and franco will be menaces

username7 franco's f2 interviews and y/n's interviews now scream 'i will destroy your life'

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more y/n

francolapinto who's that handsome man

yourusername me

francolapinto you can't be this beautiful

yourusername wow okay tell that to your next girlfriend because WERE DONE

francolapinto dont break up with me before my first f1 race ill ram you into the wall

yourusername ill crash in fp1

francolapinto noo mi vida youre so sexy pls dont die haha

yourusername forgiven 😊

username10 are we just going to ignore them breaking up in a comment section

username11 that happens like thrice every day just ignore them

username12 man i love them

username13 goats of f1 frrr

username14 theyre so iconic being the first couple in f1

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up

username18 manifesting franco ends up in the points

username19 what about y/n??

username18 queen always ends up in the points

username19 mb mb

username20 franco calling her 'mi vida' MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto life is hard (p12 in my first race) but at least mi vida got p8! and we did the track walk together 😊🫶 Tagged: yourusername

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username21 i REFUSE to believe franco typed that caption

username22 FRRR like its too innocent and peaceful

username23 their pr managers took over

username24 HOW IS HE SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

alex_albon photo credits?

yourusername up my ass

francolapinto no mi vida only i can see up your ass

yourusername what he said

alex_albon tmi....

username28 theyre back!!!!

username29 i live for their chaos

username30 got me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be her

bizarrap ayyy ¿cuándo vas a hacer que nos veamos? (ayyy when are you going to make us meet?)

francolapinto pronto pronto (soon soon)

bizarrap dame una fecha exacta hermano (give me an exact date bro)

francolapinto cuando vienes al gran premio (when you come to the grand prix)

bizarrap vale vale (okay okay)

username32 I SEE THE AESTHETIC VISION FRANCO

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or franco

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for franco stayed for y/n

yourusername woah youre so hot

francolapinto youre hotter

yourusername nahhh youre way hotter

francolapinto kiss me if im wrong but im hotter

yourusername then i wont kiss you because youre hotter

francolapinto fuck i didnt think of that

yourusername ill still kiss you just come over to my driver room

francolapinto 🏃🏃

maxverstappen1 should i be worried or....?

yourusername mind your business max

maxverstappen1 i'm the one who's going to here those disgusting noises not you

yourusername too bad

alex_albon i feel like i should be grateful its not happening in williams

francolapinto im here mi vida where are you i cant see you

yourusername im right here in the room??

maxverstappen1 WHAT IS FRANCO DOING IN MY ROOM

francolapinto shit wrong room

yourusername hurry up franco

francolapinto On my way!

maxverstappen1 let me leave the garage first

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP FRANCO GOING TO MAX'S ROOM???

username39 did max just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, bizarrap and 2.8M others

yourusername haters wish they were on our level fr Tagged: francolapinto

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username41 if being in a parasocial relationship with them was a crime id be executed

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how are they both so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP not the matching glasses

username47 need a boyfriend who will take me on bike rides while i wear my redbull helmet and he wears his williams helmet

francolapinto i dont want to see my beautiful face i want to see YOUR beautiful face

yourusername but youre so pretty how can i not put your face more than mine

francolapinto mi vida your face isnt even on there

yourusername yes it is

francolapinto its covered by that ugly helmet

redbullracing 🤨

francolapinto this one is ugly i like her own customised helmet

yourusername aww amor 🫶 i love your helmet and i love you

francolapinto i love you more

yourusername no i love you more

francolapinto no

alex_albon if you continue with this sappy stuff ill vomit

yourusername okay 'goodmorning baby'

alex_albon SHUT UP

yourusername oi francolapinto we found his weak spot

francolapinto lets get ready to terrorise him

yourusername bet

username48 if they need a third im always available

username49 i want to see mother and father but theyre more like mommy and daddy

username50 erm

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

alex_albon ill admit this is actually cute

yourusername thank you!!

francolapinto we're not cute we're hot

yourusername we're both tho

francolapinto true

alex_albon why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

francolapinto life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide who's better looking

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

maxverstappen1 franco doesn't how to play padel

yourusername he beat me

maxverstappen1 anyone can beat you

francolapinto don't bully her like that

maxverstappen1 or what

francolapinto brazil 2018 pt2

maxverstappen1 DONT YOU DARE

yourusername ok max thats it go stare lovingly at charles or idk

maxverstappen1 ???

francolapinto we all know max dont worry

maxverstappen1 ??????

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 man i need me a francoyn relationship

username56 did they just confirm lestappen?!?!??!?!

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

bizarrap ah so youre the girlfriend?

yourusername yes yes i am

bizarrap y'know i cheer for you and not franco because you get higher places

yourusername im flattered 😊

francolapinto this is a betrayal you should be cheering for ME only

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will y/n post more y/n sigh

francolapinto how are you so gorgeous

yourusername i should be asking YOU that

francolapinto mi vida you are the prettiest girl i have ever seen in my life and you call ME gorgeous?

yourusername fuck yes

francolapinto i love you

yourusername love you more

williamsracing

liked by francolapinto, yourusername, alex_albon and 1.3M others

williamsracing can you spot the odd one out? Tagged: francolapinto, yourusername

click to view all comments

username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 they haven't commented yet???

username64 ikk it's so weird

username65 they usually hop on after like 6 secs

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 MILF = man i love franco (and y/n)

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

redbullracing don't go stealing around our drivers

williamsracing im just the admin 😔

redbullracing me too 😔

username71 driverS????

redbullracing that was typo

username72 IS FRANCO GOING TO REDBULL??????

username73 redbull admin x williams admin

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of franco and y/n is concerning

username76 WHERE ARE THEYYYYYY

francolapinto add more photos of mi vida i want to see her beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

francolapinto running

username77 there they are

maxverstappen1 admin why now i have to hear them make out for the next 3 hours

williamsracing sorry?

username78 3 HOURS???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

yourusername shit where's franco i want to see his face

williamsracing we want to see YOUR face

yourusername oh...😊 admin you make me blush

francolapinto admin?

williamsracing im sorry pls dont kill me

francolapinto i wont just because you take photos of me for mi vida

williamsracing i love you y/n

yourusername love you too admin

yourusername and you too franco

francolapinto love you more mi vidaaa

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto to mi vida, the love of my life, happy anniversary to us and i love you forever Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 'mi vida' OKAY BRO BYE IM LEAVING THIS EARTH

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

bizarrap ¡enhorabuena a los dos! ¡que sean muchos más! (congratulations to you two! here's to many more!)

francolapinto gracias hermano, lo aprecio (thanks bro, i appreciate it)

yourusername gracias!! (thank you)

username87 the caption is from a song i refuse to belive franco wrote it

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 poetry fr

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alex play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

alex_albon congrats to you two! least favourite couple i know!

francolapinto thank you alex!

yourusername thank you!!!

alex_albon did you just ignore my statement

yourusername yes we chose to ignore it

username93 this is the kind of love ppl write books about

username94 STOP NOT THEM CONGRATULATING EACH OTHER ON THE RADIO IN THE LAST RACE

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

maxverstappen1 you two deserve it! take care of my little sister francito

yourusername MAX STOP

francolapinto will do

yourusername i love my life

francolapinto and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a franco asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so much, and ive did since forever. you are everything to me, i could never let you go. you deserve everything, mi amor

francolapinto youre my everything too, and im keeping you forever, no takebacks. if I deserve the everything, it’s only because you’re MY everything, mi vida. every star, every light, it all reminds me of you. te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

francolapinto I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI VIDA

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Run, Run, Run II

Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Your new life

Your feet pound on the concrete of the pavement, rain drip-dropping down your skin.

The rain of Manchester had been difficult to get used to when you originally moved, used to the sun of Spain and the warmth on your skin as you completed your morning run.

The rain wasn't something that you were surprised about but it was still something that you've had to get used to.

You've had to get used to a lot actually but one thing, for better or for worse has stayed that same.

Your damned attraction to female footballers older than you.

You'd been burned by Alexia. That was all you could think about those first few weeks. How every memory with her was stained with fire and flames and an overwhelming heat that made you lose your mind.

But she had cheated and you had promised yourself to never be like your mother - to never stay with someone that disrespected you like that.

Your father was a damned near perfect father. He took you to all of your track meets and he'd never missed a parent-teacher evening in his life. He bragged about you to his co-workers.

But he had never been a perfect husband, cheating on your mother multiple times but she had still stayed, happy in the relative normalcy she has with your father.

You'd promised to never be like her so the decision to leave Alexia and flee the country didn't take as much thought as you thought it would.

And now you're in rainy Manchester, drying off your hair with the handy towel that hangs up in the entrance hall for you to use exactly for these moments.

"You're back?"

You smile as you rub the towel over your hair.

"I said I would before you left me."

"Left you? I'm only going to camp."

You sigh dramatically, pressing the back of your palm to your still damp forehead. "And leaving me here, all alone! Locked in this prison!"

"You were the one that decided on this apartment? You said you liked the open plan arrangement? We have a balcony?"

You press a soft kiss to Leila's lips. "You knew I was only joking. But I will miss you when you're at camp."

"I'll miss you too. Are you sure you can't come to the match?"

You nibble on the inside of your cheek.

Your life with Leila was practically perfect in every way. She was so in tune with you and your needs. She knew when you needed a break from cooking dinner or doing the grocery shop. She knew exactly when you needed a little pick me up like flowers or chocolates or even a long cuddle session in bed.

Everything was perfect but you just can't bring yourself to go back to Spain in that way, to put yourself in a situation where you'll be so close to Alexia again, the woman that you had once thought would be your wife some day.

"Baby..." You say, looking up at Leila," You know I wouldn't put you in that situation. Alexia...I don't want her to try to ostracise you from the team."

Leila sighs. "She's never done such a thing. Even...Even during...you know..."

"I know but it might be different. I mean...with me and her, it was...I don't know. I don't want you be at risk."

"I understand," Leila says, forehead pressed against your own," But if you did want to come, I've got a ticket reserved for you, alright?"

"I'll...I'll think about it. I promise."

Leila thinks about it too, all throughout camp. It circles through her mind like a dog with a bone. She wakes up thinking about. She goes to sleep thinking about it.

You've watched plenty of her matches at City, where you've become a favourite of the fans without even meaning to. You're a constant presence in the stands with a cup of whatever warm drink you poured yourself before leaving the house.

She's lost count of how many of her Panini stickers you've signed for fans before coming down onto the pitch to greet her.

But you've never come to one of her matches for Spain, not with Alexia on the team, the ever lurking looming presence of your relationship.

Leila's never really seen her captain in the same way since. She's a good captain, an amazing player but Leila's learnt how to separate those aspects of Alexia to the one that she knows you experienced, the one that had tried to manipulate you into staying in a relationship, the one that had tried to promise you everything to stay with her even after cheating.

Leila can separate the Alexia on the pitch to the one off of it but she knows that is something you can't do.

The Alexia on the pitch and off the pitch has always been the same Alexia to you. There is no separation of who she is and Leila can accept your decision to stay away for that reason.

But it still doesn't stop her from wishing you would come to see her play.

The option is open for you but Leila would never hold it against you if you decided not to.

There were plenty of other games for you to go to.

"So..." Codi wheedles during breakfast before the match," Where's the girlfriend?"

Leila almost chokes over her cereal. "At home."

"She isn't coming?"

"She has the option if she wants. She's busy."

Codi rolls her eyes. "She's always busy during international break. She's got to come at some point."

Leila rolls her eyes. "She's her own person. I won't force her to do anything."

"You've got a new girlfriend?" Alexia asks, looking up from her phone.

Leila looks back down at her bowl, swirling the milk around with the back of her spoon. "I...Yeah, I do. She's great..."

She bites her tongue, swallowing back what she actually wants to say, all of the things she wants to spit at Alexia on your behalf.

But she doesn't.

Leila stays silent, swirling her cereal around as the conversation moves on.

The pass is perfectly weighted from her on the pitch a few hours later, speeding through the legs of opposition players for Alexia to slot neatly into the net.

The rush of an assist runs through Leila as she turns to look into the stands.

You're sitting there, amongst the cheering of the fans.

Leila had seen you earlier, a surprise in a hoodie to cover your hair but your girlfriend could just see the Spanish jersey poking out from under it.

She suddenly finds herself praying that it's hers.

She'd even take it being blank.

Because Leila knows Alexia noticed you earlier, had seen you when the big screen focused on the crowd during the warm ups. She had seen Alexia stare at you. She had seen the aborted movement Alexia made towards you, like she was about to abandon the warm ups to go up to you - sweetly saccharine tone at the ready to convince you to go back to her.

Leila hopes that if you do have a name on your shirt, it's not Alexia's.

[thinkingaboutbees]

Hi, I'm the OP of this thread on Bluesky. I thought I'd come on here and upload some of the analysis I've done in later-additions to this thread, which weren't online when Tumblr-OP @carucath made this post, as well as a recent interaction with Rhianna Pratchett, all of which I think are useful bits of contextual info/expansion. I've seen a few people in the notes/reblogs saying things about the fan-desire to rush to defend their faves etc., and kind of discounting my analysis because of that. While I agree that fandom spaces absolutely do have a huge problem with that, and that retrospectively reading Neil Gaiman's work looking for 'signs' that he was a piece of shit the whole time isn't actually constructive/doesn't really add anything useful to the discourse, my intent with this thread wasn't to try to absolve PTerry or put distance between him and Gaiman (though I can see how it reads that way). I'm more interested in looking at how 'known' people like Gaiman move within fandom spaces, as well as how our parasocial relationships with public figures, and the cult of personality which some people build up around them, can often help to protect them or even enable their behaviour (worth remembering that a number of the women Gaiman assaulted/abused have talked about being fans of his work, or meeting him through fandom spaces, or, even when not fans of his work as in the case of Scarlett, still being a bit over-awed by his fame and reputation). I suspect that Gaiman's embellishment of his relationship with PTerry helped to build up his persona in SF/Fantasy fandom spaces after Pratchett's death, contributing to his personal Cult of Personality and fandom parasocial relationships with him. Over the last 5 years especially, Gaiman has had a pretty meteoric rise in the public eye outside of online SF/Fantasy fandom spaces & conventions. In particular a number of his works have been adapted for TV across various large streaming-platforms following the success of Good Omens, with high-profile names attached to them, and large marketing campaigns. By positioning his Good Omens adaptation as 'Terry's dying wish' of him, Gaiman has gained a lot of attention for it and for his other work, increased his own public standing, and thus directly profited off of Pratchett's legacy and the public perception that the two were close friends. (Obviously GO was adapted with the support of Rhianna & Rob, but, as you'll see in these other threads, we probably should think of it as being primarily a PTerry novel, with some minor input from Gaiman). Some personal context: I hold two degrees in English literature (both with Firsts, or a 3.7-4.0 GPA for the Americans on this thread), as well as a research-Masters degree in Creative Writing (with a high 2.1, because I developed a chronic illness which made me bedbound for 6 months of that degree lmao). I have a long-standing personal and academic interest in both Gaiman and Pratchett's work, and have written multiple essays on Terry Pratchett's style & his approach to genre, including some for my Masters degree. I generally stay out of fandom spaces these days, and these threads have sprung out of my own prior research and academic work. While I'm yet to seek a PhD, I have previously been employed by the English Literature department of the main university in my city, where I was the tutor for one of their undergraduate courses (this means I was responsible for organising and running the weekly group tutorials/workshops which make up the other contact-hours for students outside of lectures, providing one-on-one support and feedback for students who asked for extra guidance but didn't feel it was complex enough to go to the head lecturer, and for marking student-essays). I do eventually hope to go in to academia/lecturing, but right now am taking a few years off from studying since finishing my Masters to pay off some of my student loan debt, get my health back on track, and to focus on my creative practice and writing career.

There was an interesting thread on Bluesky dissecting Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's relationship

TL:DR - It seems like Gaiman has been exaggerating the level of closeness between them for YEARS

[ozzgin]

Ozzgin more than ever I really need a hacker yandere out to fight injustice done against me. Because why was my bank account hacked and someone tried it ed to steal 500$ bucks from me. Luckily I was able to lock my card and my bank is sending me a new one but I'm so so anxious at this point 😭

Yandere hacker would never let some twerps swindle me for my money like this(I'm sure they're a bunch of kids since the person tried to buy cs go ). He cares deeply for my digital footprints.

Oof, sorry it happened to you, pookie. Though I doubt a yandere would help you out of the goodness of his heart... content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking

Yandere!Hacker always makes sure that your digital presence remains untouched. Through some sheer luck or unknown forces, you've never had to deal with any kind of online misfortune. You'll offer your friends a sympathetic smile whenever they bemoan the persistence of some internet pervert, but you've been spared of such predatory approaches.

You'd almost be tempted to believe that these said malicious attacks are mere myths meant to scare the unseasoned traveler. You've never been hacked, never been scammed, never had your data or photos stolen from anywhere. Maybe you're just particularly careful, you tell yourself.

In reality, you've been under the watchful gaze of your online stalker. He dutifully keeps track of every move and every click you make. If someone were to save one of your photos for later purposes, for example, he'd immediately track them down and make sure they can never access a computer again.

Yandere!Hacker doesn't protect you out of pure, selfless intentions, however. When it comes to invading your privacy, he's a meticulous sleuth constantly outdoing himself. It's just, you see, no one else should have this kind of control over you. From the moment he stumbled upon your profile, he knew you'd be his. Thus, he can't allow anyone else to interfere with his grand adoration.

Your dating apps always fail to show you any matches, your flirty messages from suitors never arrive. He'll watch through the webcam he's hacked into as you sigh, disappointed, from yet another case of being ghosted. Oh, sweet, darling (Y/N), give him a little more time.

Yandere!Hacker isn't quite satisfied with watching you from afar. While it certainly is endearing to observe you in your raw, innocent obliviousness, while he frequently touches himself to the exhilaration of voyeurism, being a passive bystander can become exceptionally boring. He often wonders if your skin is as soft as it looks, or if you smell as sweet as he likes to imagine.

"This can't be..."

Tears well in your eyes as you stare, helpless, at the notification: your bank account has been drained. Someone must've emptied it, and - as a consequence - you are now utterly penniless. Just as another sob escapes your mouth, your screen lights up with a new message. An acquaintance you don't remember too well.

"Is everything alright with you, (Y/N)? I just wanted to remind you that you can always count on me for anything. I mean it."

He leans back in his chair with a grin. Now he waits. You're desperate enough that it shouldn't require much convincing for you to move in with him. Of course you can have his spare room. No, he truly doesn't need anything in return. You're his dear friend, and he's at your service.

You can always rely on him.

[More Yandere Stories]

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Prologue: Why me?

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Why is this happening?

The woman in front of me stood close. Too close. A hand was outstretched in an attempt to comfort me. I don't want her fucking comfort. I want answers.

"Why..."

The word left my lips before I could process it. My world was crashing. The room was spinning. It was getting hard to breath. I knew I sounded pathetic. I know I look pathetic. God I'm pathetic. Why can't I fight for this? Why does it seem like the only thing I can do right is fall behind as the world moves on without me.

"I'm sorry (Y/N), but we found someone better suiting of your position. We had no choice, the whole student body petitioned for Tim to become president of the student body."

Tim Drake. God I loathed that name. Every time I have something good one of those bat bastards has to make my life miserable again. For as long as I could remember I had been alone. I had to be the perfect child and yet I was never praised for the things I've done right, only punished for the things I've done wrong. Is this another punishment... Did I linger too long during diner yesterday? Did I not provide a good enough reaction during Damian's beating? Did I not hide my exhaustion well enough? Did I accidentally start a scandal?

"God (Y/N) what are you still doing here? We both know you have things to do at home. Plus you're not needed here anymore."

I heard his voice before I saw him. His condescending tone never ceases to send a chill down my spine. I steeled myself and turned to face my brother.

"I'm sorry Tim. looks like I lost track of time, I'll head back now"

I returned his dark look with a cold look of my own. I will not let him, or anyone for that matter, have the pleasure of seeing me break. I may have lost but I will not give him the chance to laugh and jeer at my failure. I turned and left the room, my posture straight and my head held high. I don't know what I'll do now but I will not let myself be seen as some pathetic hopeless child with no potential or worth. I ignored the feeling of Tim's calculating gaze boring holes through my figure and continued to walk on. Maybe I should take that person up on their offer. Maybe I could use their help...

Authors note: Omg prologue is done! Thank you all for participating in the polls and reading! I hope this is a good prologue, I'm super excited for this story. Thank you all for your support and please feel free to send me any asks I love hearing y'all's thoughts! Anyways with nothing else to say I wish you all a good day/night and I'll update you all on chapter 1 soon, until next time!

@simpingpandas

[batboyblog]

I fundamentally disagree with your take that any future/ongoing users of TikTok are supporting or enabling trump.

We don’t use TikTok or any other social platform because of the CEO. We use social media because of the communities we form and love.

Obviously trump wants it back because it helped his election campaign, but that doesn’t negate every positive collective action or community that formed on the app. Everything good also has bad, because as the saying goes, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. We can try to be good, but we can’t only support ethical companies.

Also, what about international users? I’m Australian, and trump impacts Australian politics directly and indirectly, but does me using TikTok support him? It’s still an independent company.

Given the ban was done by congress, not the executive, I have every reason to believe that a Harris/democrat office would also make efforts to stop the ban. It’s easy political points.

I'm gonna try to be nice, which given my mood today, the impending Trumpalypse and the hostage release today have me in a bad mood.

Sooooo I have to reject the idea that helping re-elect Trump could ever be balanced out by any other "good", if such good even exists, that any app, person, or organization does.

before anyone jumps in to smugly tell me they're not an American so Trump being the American President doesn't matter, I'll remind you, we all live on the same planet. One thats getting warmer? in case you hadn't noticed. 2024 was the first year on record to breach the 1.5 degree warming mark that is very bad news. President Biden passed the biggest climate action bill that any government anywhere on earth ever ever has passed. Trump has pledged to repeal that law, and also hold back all the money in it not already spent.

as you can see under Biden we're on goal through 2030, and then more and different policies would be needed to get us where we need to go, which Biden team in the dying days of his administration has set not that Trump will follow through.

so point being helping re-elect Trump might have doomed the planet so idk about anything "good" TikTok could possibly do to make up for being Responsible or the single biggest climate disaster in human history.

any ways, as a Jew when I think of TikTok I think antisemitism

"Jewish teens say life on TikTok comes with anti-Semitism" 2020

"Sliding Through: Spreading Antisemitism on TikTok by Exploiting Moderation Gaps" 2023

"How fast does TikTok send users down the antisemitic rabbit hole?" 2024

being on the internet right now as a Jewish person is fucking wild, buck wild, seeing people in their teens and 20s say NAZI, old school, 1940s Nazi shit on-line, in videos with their faces, it is everywhere and TikTok is some of the worst of it.

on top of which TikTok is spoon feeding massive amount of disinformation to users all the time, from mental health, to Covid Vaccines, to conspiracy theories that are effecting the real world. And studies show its actively hurting teens, pushing them toward self harm

speaking of Australia, its very clear that China is REALLY interested in influencing your country seeking to shift Australian public opinion against Taiwan and in favor of China, as well as push the country toward a more isolationist view. Also they're using data from not just TikTok but other apps to track people, and actively kidnap Chinese nationals in Australia who offend Xi's government. That's a wider problem than just TikTok of course, but it's super fucking scary.

So sorry the app you like is getting the axe in the US? I guess? but short form video in and of itself might be bad for your health. Apps like TikTok don't allow you to do what I've done here, offer links and data to back up what I'm saying so fact checking and accountability is basically 0. Finally there's a lot of evidence that TikTok has put its finger on the scale to push propaganda for Trump, for Xi and generally destabilize the world.

finally, what community? watching videos fed to you by a computer isn't a connection, its certainly not a conversation.

oh also "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" is not some magical spell, it doesn't do away with the need to do good in the world, its meant to say don't let perfect be the enemy of good, whats the least bad option, nothing is flawless, but that doesn't mean going on to the app who's parting message to America was "big good daddy Trump gonna come save us" like fuck man thats bad

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

could we get a disowned verse update if you’re feeling up to it

Jason pushed the door to the shop open and looked around- despite the fact that you were resting at home, he couldn't help but feel rage. Scalding hot in his stomach, roiling up. His eyes tracked the struggle.

He could see every moment in the marks on the floor. Your nails scraping the door way where you'd held it to keep from being dragged- and Borris. Poor old man. His footprints in the blood and dust on the floor. He'd done his best when you needed him most. Pushing through the pain to show his teeth and get a few bites torn out of the men who were hurting you.

Doing what Jason hadn't been there to do.

Boris was a hero. And Jason owed him. "Don't worry old man," he muttered. "I'm getting the hang of it." He wiped the angry, frustrated tears off his face and took a deep breath. "First things first."

Cops had their pictures but he wanted his. His own shit. His own evidence. It was safer that way. And then- then he'd make sure you came back to work to a clean shop. With better security. No one was going to hurt his girl again.

___________

Dick and Tim sat in the drive way for a second and Tim frowned, "They have goats?"

"No," Dick said, "At least I don't think-"

But kids giggling cut him off and the cacophony of barking made him shake his head, "I think those are the neighbors' goats."

"Should we leave?" Tim mused.

Dick shook his head again, "Just be nice to the kids and mind your own business when she tells you to." Jason wasn't around but, that didn't mean no one was here. They knew now, from Alfred that you were being looked after. It was a small town. So everyone knew the girl who ran the hardware had a tough go. And better, they knew by now what had happened at the store.

Tim nodded and picked up the box of security devices hoping Jason didn't take a hammer to these like he did the iPads, following Dick into the yard.

The giggling and bleating was still on going and he could hear the quieter voices of adults, "Should we start dinner?" a woman mused.

"Y/N said Reba and Julie brought casseroles we can reheat," Another woman answered.

"Bleh-"

"Tomorrow you can take over," the other woman laughed. "You know she won't let it go to waste."

"She's having a baby, all that processed nonsense-"

"It'll be alright, Joni. She's on the mend, she's just gotta take it slow."

"Who?" Tim mouthed, and Dick grinned.

"Their friendly local Marxist lesbians," he said opening the gate. "Friends."

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 3.6 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

six tuesday, january 28th

you sat on your bed, legs crossed over eachother with your laptop on your lap. your philosphy teacher had given out this assignment friday and you'd been mulling it over the entire weekend.

you stared at the question asked.

what defines 'perfection"? is it a universal concept, or is it deeply personal and subjective? discuss how ideals shape our perceptions and actions.

you'd been staring at a blank page for five days now, unable to come up with anything. it was like writer block's mean older sister, academic block. anything you did come up with was stupid: a stupid attempt at dissecting society's perception of perfection which was boring, everyone was going to do that. another attempt would talk about how perfection didn't exist and though that was true, your writing quickly turned into the whole, 'nothing is real, nothing really matters mumbo jumbo.' so, you scrapped that too.

your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you felt something being thrown against your head. you flinched and looked at rafe who was sitting there, innocently with his bowl of jellybeans.

"do you know how lucky you are that i've allowed you to eat in my room? and here you are, just taking my kindness for granted," you say and he laughs and waves his notebook up.

it's messy, full of scribbles where he scratches out his mistakes instead of using an eraser. the corners are littered with little things he doodles like footballs and small animals. by now, you could read it all perfectly though, could understand what he meant even when he didn't even remember his own thought process or was unable to read through all the scribbles on his page. "i'm done." he sings and you glance at the time, "23 minutes, record time." you praise as he stands to stretch his legs.

"we're approaching it."

"what are we approaching?"

"the moment when student becomes teacher." he says plainly and you roll your eyes with a stupid grin. "yeah, can't wait." you mutter, eyes flicking back to your screen.

"if i eat anymore of these, i might actually go up a weight group and coach will chop my balls off so i'm gonna go give your brother a sugar rush. be right back." he says and it only dawns on you after a couple of minutes of him being gone that you didn't even flinch at him just meshing in with your family, casually going down to your brother and you could just imagine the smile on your brother's face when he saw rafe, partly because of the jellybeans in his bowl but also because of how much he'd grown to enjoy rafe's presence.

you didn't know whether to be scared or happy.

you glanced at his sweater on your desk, all frumpled up right next to yours, neatly folded.

you looked back at your screen and started typing.

the concept of the ideal: a personal reflection

the concept of the ideal is elusive but also compelling, isn't it?

philosophically, ideals are often framed as unattainable benchmarks, guiding us but forever out of reach. plato’s theory of forms suggests that ideals exist in a realm beyond our physical world, serving as pure, perfect templates against which our imperfect reality is measured. yet, in our daily lives, ideals often take on a more tangible form—not abstract but embodied in people, moments, or emotions.

for me, the ideal feels deeply personal. it's not static or universal but shifts with my experiences and perceptions. i've always thought of 'perfection" as something distant, unreachable, and theoretical, yet recently, i've found myself reconsidering this definition. sometimes, the ideal isn't flawless but deeply flawed in ways that make it real and irresistible.

take, for instance, the idea of the ideal person. philosophers like aristotle argue that virtue and reason define the 'ideal human' but our hearts rarely follow reason. we find ourselves captivated by individuals who challenge our ideals and force us to question whether perfection lies in symmetry or in the cracks and contradictions.

my own life is a perfect example. i used to imagine the ideal as someone who fit a checklist—organized, predictable, and safe. yet lately, i've been drawn to the unpredictable, the messy, the human. there's someone i know who doesn't fit my old definition of perfection, but somehow, they embody something more profound. their laugh is loud and uncontainable, their honesty is sharp and unpolished, but it's real, they're restless and noticeably want more from life, there's a chaos to them that should be maddening but instead, feels like freedom.

perhaps the ideal isn't a fixed destination but a reflection of what we value in the moment. it's fluid, shaped by context, emotion, and the stories we tell ourselves. this realization doesn't make the ideal any less compelling or desirable. if anything, it makes it more so, because it feels within reach—even if only for a fleeting second.

in the end, the concept of the ideal may not be about finding something flawless but about recognizing the beauty in imperfection. it's about the moments, people, or ideas that briefly make us pause and wonder if we've just had a glimpse at something divine.

rafe walks into your room, your little brother in his arms. "that's not what i meant when i said you need a study buddy." you tell him as you close your laptop and rafe pauses from blowing raspberries in his stomach. "you're my study buddy," he says to you before holding your brother up real high and making him giggle up a storm. "this little rascal is our mascotte!" and your mouth hurts from smiling so you turn away from them and start tidying up your room.

"you wanna go somewhere with me?" yes. always, every day, any time. literally anywhere.

"depends on where you want to go." you say and go to pick up your brother who is now waddling to your book shelve and is bound to drop a couple of books on his own head.

"my friends are pestering me about this bonfire." rafe explains as he's putting his hoodie back on. "i kinda stood them up when i went to the retirement home with you last week so they're on my case now. it's close to your house but i can drop you off at home afterwards if you want?"

did he want you to meet his friends? you weren't sure you really wanted that. you had friends that you wouldn't trade for a thing in the world but maybe this was him trying to show you that he did want you in his life for longer than the next four months.

his friends were different than you, liked different things, had different priorities and different interest but ultimately, rafe was one of them and you really liked rafe so who says you wouldn't like them?

"how many people are going?" you ask even though you're already thinking about what you're going to wear and which perfume screams, 'i may be a little bit of a nerd and at times too studious but i know how to have fun when in the right mood.'

he takes your brother from your arms and goes to lie on your bed with him. "i'm actually not sure. hopefully not too many cause all this algebra has me pretty beat."

you're hesitating. you don't know anyone but him and he wasn't even sure if this was a bonfire which would turn into a beach party or a bonfire that would stay just that: a cute little bonfire with less than fifteen people which was totally your vibe. beach party with fifty plus people? not so much.

"but i'll be there," he says like he can feel your hesitation from across the room. you fiddle with the blouse in your hand. "and i won't abandon you." it sounds like a promise and you're a sucker for those.

you turn and nod, "okay, yeah, let's go."

"you're not invited." he says to your little brother, a sad little look on his face. you smile and turn back to your closet to pick an outfit.

you do your best at hiding how nervous you are on the car ride there and rafe doesn't seem to really notice which is good. you want him to think you're normal. just a normal girl who maybe doesn't ever go to parties but isn't about to shit her pants at the thought of one right now.

you look down at your outfit. a little unusual for you and your sister did give you a look when you were leaving but when you hid in the bathroom to search "bonfire outfits" on pinterest, this was what everyone was wearing. the pictures had lots of loose clothing, loose pants and big hoodies which you didn't have much of. the most casual thing you owned were these leggings and your dad's old university hoodie. a pair of sneakers that you bought for the gym membership you never used. they were almost brand new and a tote bag with some essentials. it wasn't that bad, right? you felt that maybe it was too sporty because it was missing those damn loose pants but you didn't have those in your closet.

when you arrived and took a look around, you realised, rafe looked perfect—always—but specifically for the occasion. he blended in seamlessly and what did you see? atleast twenty girls in either bikini's or skirts. you were ready to scream into your pillow. they were wearing sandals which you didn't understand because the sand would get all over them? and bikini's? it was january. that's like one of the coldest months of the year.

either way, whatever you thought made sense didn't matter because you were the one who stood out like a sore thumb, walking over with one of the most stared at people in this town.

the bonfire’s glow grew brighter as you and rafe walked down the sandy path, the muffled sounds of laughter and music getting louder with every step. the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of saltwater and burning wood, and the horizon was painted in deep oranges and reds from the flames licking the sky.

as soon as the two of you stepped into the circle of firelight, it was like a switch flipped. people called out rafe’s name from all directions.

“rafe, my man!” one guy shouted, jogging over with a grin that could rival the flames. a group of girls nearby waved enthusiastically, their voices blending in a chorus of greetings.

“hey, you made it!” a tall blonde clapped rafe on the shoulder, already pressing a cold beer into his hand. “and who’s this?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his gaze shifted to you.

“this is—” rafe started, but you jumped in with your name and a polite smile.

“right, right, the tutor!” the guy said, giving a quick nod before motioning toward the group gathered near the fire. “come on, everyone’s over here. there’s drinks and snacks if you want.”

as you approached, more introductions followed.

"guys, look who's graced us with his presence!" the guy who was obviously already drunk said to the group sitting around together.

"rafe!"

"what's up, cameron."

"and you brought a friend.."

the girl who said that didn't seem too pleased but before you could let it simmer in your mind too long, rafe started talking. "i'm gonna do a very quick round of introductions, just try to keep up and remember no one expects you to really remember these names." he says and the guy cuts in, "except my name, i fully expect to be remembered." he grins making the group laugh. you smile when rafe starts, "this pestering moron that has been attached to my hip since elementary school is topper," rafe introduces him first and topper does a little bow.

"then we have, kelce, cleo, adriana, jj, pope, kiara, john b and cora." he points at each person and you recognize most of them from school and almost all the boys seem to be on the soccer team. you knew without a doubt that adriana and cora were cheerleaders because of the pep rallies.

"so, you're the girl who's been keeping rafe so busy." so busy? you saw him twice a week. they got him for five, that sounded like a really sweet deal to you.

"honestly, it's the opposite. she's got better shit to do then tutor me." rafe says before you can and you feel a wave of relief come over you that you aren't totally being put on the spot here.

"right because you're student body president, right?" one of the girls, cleo, you think, says. for some reason, it excites you that she knows you, that these people know anything about you. you never cared before but you wanted rafe's friends to like you or at least, not hate you.

"yes, that's me." you smile and tuck your hands into the pockets of your hoodie when you feel a sudden breeze. "shit, you're number 1, aren't you?" one of the other guys suddenly says and you tilt your head, frowning in confusion. "your class rank." he clarifies and it dawns on you what he means, you nod and hope they don't feel like you're bragging.

"she's also number 1 for grade rank." rafe says it proudly and your heart warms at the thought of him even remembering that. "wait, what's class rank? what's grade rank?" you think his name is kelce but you aren't sure.

"you know that number right in the corner of your report card that says 'rank: 410'? with her it says 'rank: 1" because she performed the best in our grade. you can try to guess what yours means." kiara explained while the others were already laughing at kelce's rank number.

"i've been trying to beat you since sophomore year." the same guy who pointed out that you were number one speaks again.

"pope is number two." jj says before putting a joint between his lips and your eyes go wide, "wait, so," you pause and turn to rafe. "this whole time, pope could have been helping you with algebra!?" you're happy he didn't but still, the idea didn't dawn on them?

"he didn't want to help me!" rafe laughs and looks at pope who's quick to defend himself, "woah, woah! i tried to help him! he's the worst student!"

"false accusations, you just don't explain it the way she does."

"what? she's better than me?" pope laughs astonishedly.

"well, we know she's better than you. you're number two." topper says mockingly as he wraps an arm around rafe's shoulder.

pope's eyes briefly close as if it actually pained him but he's smiling so you know it didn't. "low blow, thornton."

"okay, how about another round!" one of the cheerleaders said and opened the cooler to distribute more beers.

they handed rafe another one almost immediately, while kiara held out a cup toward you.

“drink?” she asked, her smile warm.

“oh, no thanks. i don’t drink,” you said casually, shaking your head.

the reaction was instantaneous. every conversation in your immediate vicinity paused as heads turned toward you. “wait, what?” john b asked incredulously, and cora chimed in, “not at all?”

kiara blinked at you, still holding the cup as if you’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “you don’t drink? like, ever?”

you laughed nervously, feeling the weight of their stares. “yeah, um, i just don’t. it’s a personal choice, but also, i’ve read a lot about what alcohol does to the brain. it slows down neurotransmitters, messes with your decision-making, and—” you paused when you realized they were all still staring at you like you were speaking another language. “anyway, it’s just not my thing.”

an awkward silence settled over the group for half a second too long. then, rafe cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly. “she’s got a point,” he said, holding up his beer. “matter of fact…” without hesitation, he set it down on a nearby log. “guess i’m not drinking tonight either.”

a few eyebrows rose at that, but no one questioned it. instead, someone cracked a joke about who was going to give rafe a hard time for being sober, and just like that, the conversation shifted seamlessly to the music playing in the background. the tension evaporated as the group resumed their chatter, and the attention shifted away from you.

"you don't have to do that." you tell rafe and he's shaking his head, moving to sit on a log near the fire. "it's all good. i'm very worried about my..neuro..things.." he says slowly as if he's trying to guess the world. you giggle, "neurotransmitters." you correct and he nods, "that, and i'm driving you home so i shouldn't drink anyway." he did have a point.

rafe stayed with you for a while but then more and more people showed up and the music only got louder and topper forced rafe up to his feet and they were gone, disappearing in the crowd with big smiles on their faces.

"so, if you don't drink, i'm assuming, you don't smoke either?" kiara was suddenly asking and you smiled small, shaking your head. "then what's your poison?" cora asks and you guess you don't really have one.

"i.. don't think i have one.." you say and see adriana's brows go up. "how bland." she says flatly. you weren't sure when it became uncool to not be addicted to substances but for some reason, your lips wouldn't move to defend yourself. "shut up, adriana. no one asked." cleo tells her and adriana's rolling her eyes and walking away. cora follows her. "she's not usually like that. she's been in a mood for a while." john b suddenly says before he's shrugging and facing the sky again, joint between his lips.

"it’s perfectly normal. pope is the same way. the only thing pope can’t get enough of is…" kiara trails off, gesturing somewhere far behind them.

you follow her gaze, squinting into the distance until you just barely make out pope and jj—practically attached at the lips.

“oh, i didn’t even realize they were—”

“they’re not,” john b interrupts, cutting a glance toward the scene with a faint grimace. “jj’s a freak about commitment.”

kiara smiles sadly, but you can’t help the way your brain immediately starts connecting the dots. “well, that actually makes sense,” you blurt out, drawing their attention. “there’s a 2017 study in personality and social psychology bulletin that suggests people who have commitment issues often have a stronger sensitivity to rejection. it’s not that they don’t want connection—it’s more like they’re wired to perceive potential threats in intimate relationships, so they avoid them altogether.”

cleo, john b and kiara blink at you, a mix of disbelief and faint amusement in their expressions.

"why does that sound like something pope would say?" cleo gasped with a smile.

"i was about to say!" kiara laughs and john b perks up, “god, you and pope really are a match made in nerd heaven,” he says, rolling his eyes.

kiara shoves his arm and tells him to be quiet before turning back to you. “so what’s the science on why you’re always blurting out facts?”

“probably an overactive prefrontal cortex,” you joke, earning a laugh from kiara who shakes her head, "we have no idea what that means!"

you have to admit, the bonfire is fun and apart from adriana, you felt okay about everyone. rafe popped in and out a couple of times but you didn't expect him to stay by your side the entire time either. everyone here seemed to want to talk to him so you stayed with kiara and cleo and even danced a little. it was fun but you were ready to go. it was still a school night. you only gave yourself this much time because you were having fun and you finished your essay.

you had briefly seen rafe with cora and she was standing by the makeshift bar, opening a can of beer. you lightly tap on her shoulder and she whips around, "oh..hey." she says and you ignore her complete disinterest in you. "hi, i'm looking for rafe. i saw him with you a couple of minutes ago but then i lost him again."

"oh..he's.." her voice trails off and she's quiet for a moment, eyes almost examining you. "over there." she points behind some wooden beach bar that was closed. however, you could see people surrounding it so you thanked her and walked over to beach bar, grateful to be standing on some solid land.

you didn't see him immediately and started to wonder if cora hadn't sent you here just to get you out of her sight. you sigh, pulling out your phone as you walk to dial his phone number even though the chances of him hearing his phone were slim.

that’s when you saw him—or them. rafe was leaning casually against the ledge, adriana tucked between his legs like she belonged there. they weren’t kissing, but somehow, it felt worse. their faces were so close, lips barely grazing as they exchanged soft words and easy laughter. the way they smiled at each other made it clear: they were flirting, and neither of them cared who saw it.

you couldn’t stop staring. for a split second, your mind flashed back to all the times rafe had said something to you—his teasing comments, the way his smile lingered just a little too long. you’d wondered if he was flirting with you, or if you were just reading too much into it.

but now you were sure. because the way he was looking at her? it was the same way he’d looked at you.

your stomach twisted, an ache blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. you turned quickly, forcing yourself to walk back toward the party, your footsteps heavy and unsteady. that’s when you saw cora, standing there like she’d been waiting for you.

her smile wasn’t kind. it was small and pitying, laced with something sharper. “don’t worry, they’re just friends,” she said, her tone light but somehow cutting.

your lips parted to respond, but she wasn’t done. her next words hit you like a slap. “it’s a different girl every day with him. but hey, maybe next time it’ll be you.”

for some ridiculous, stupid reason, there were tears threatening to spill from your eyes. you blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. you weren’t about to cry over a guy who, a month ago, barely knew your name. no way.

without another word to cora—or anyone—you kept walking. past the party, past the noise, past the place that suddenly felt suffocating. the whole way home, you blinked those tears away, again and again, the lump in your throat tightening with every step.

by the time you reached your door, the ache in your chest had dulled, but it hadn’t disappeared. you let out a shaky breath, swearing silently to yourself that this would be the last time you let rafe cameron get to you.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 82: Vivian's Peace

Prev > Masterlist

tw: broken leg, mind control, lots o' stabbing

October 1925

Vivian's scream echoed through the safe house as Oliver, disoriented and hallucinating, tripped and fell down the stairs before she could catch him. She'd seen many gut-churning injuries in her time as a hunter, but it still didn't prepare her for how Oliver's leg was bent in an unnatural way. Blood trickled down his face, and his eyes were glassy, staring at nothing.

"Oliver!" She rushed to his side. "Oliver, can you hear me?"

"…Yes," he said weakly.

"All right. Don't try to move. I'm going to take you to a doctor."

So much for hunting her vampire quarry this evening -- but there was nothing that could be done about it unless she was okay with leaving Oliver to suffer and maybe even die.

"What happened to Oliver?" Emily had run over. "Oh my god, his leg…"

"It's broken. I'll need help loading him into the car so I can take him to the hospital. It isn't far."

Emily looked pale as she helped Vivian pick Oliver up. He looked pained as they accidentally jostled his leg, but he didn't cry out, seemingly lost in a place far away. His eyelids were drooping, and Vivian knew that he was still under the effect of the sleeping draught she had given him.

She thought she was doing him a favor. He was panicking about the possibility of his vampire master being killed, even though most of the enthrallment should have been cleared from his mind. The vampire had such a strong grip on the unfortunate man, and he was clearly going to be a hindrance in his own salvation. It seemed like a mercy to put him to sleep until the morning, when hopefully the vampire who tormented him had been returned to hell and he could think clearly once again. She had never expected this.

The two women struggled to get a semi-unconscious Oliver into the car. He was pale and shivering now.

This was all her fault. She shouldn't have been a coward, terrified of enthrallment, a fate far worse than death. She should have killed Alexander when she had the chance. She'd been so intensely gripped by panic when she felt his spell starting to breach her defenses -- if this was how she reacted to Alexander, how could she ever hope to destroy his vile sire and avenge her mother?

And now, he would be hunting her. Oliver was bleeding, and that would make him easier to track. What if Alexander picked up the trail, and it led him straight to the safe house? What if he brought the Maestro with him? She wasn't remotely prepared to try and kill both of them at once, especially not with the former thralls' lives on the line.

"Emily, listen to me," she said, pulling a wad of cash from her wallet. "You need to run."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Just trust me. Take this money, go to the train station on the corner of 7th, and get a ticket going anywhere, enough to put some distance between you and vampires. Gather up the rest of the thralls and take them along too."

"What about Bobby?" Emily asked.

"Try to get him out, but if you can't, lock the doors and leave him. Hopefully I'll be able to get back soon and get him myself." It was an awful thing to consider, but she wasn't willing to tell Emily and the other thralls to sacrifice themselves to save someone so far gone he might never return.

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take Oliver to the hospital, and then I'm going to hunt vampires." It was the only thing she could do. Oliver made a low noise of distress, and Vivian knew she couldn't wait any longer. She waved goodbye to to a frantic Emily and drove off.

"I need to go," murmured Oliver, half-asleep. "It's the only way. I need to go."

Perhaps taking Oliver had been a mistake. He was so deeply ensorcelled that her magic couldn't fully dispel it. She would have just tossed him back at the vampire to make her escape if it hadn't been for Emily's request to help him.

Vivian looked over at Oliver, his face screwed up in pain even as the sleeping draught kept him mostly asleep. A hopeless case -- she could see that now. Even if Alexander died, he was the sort that would be selling himself back to a vampire within three months, no doubt. The way he defended that monster sickened her. He'd rather see her condemned to a lifetime of mindless servitude than to have her slaughter the creature that'd kept him captive. Even if it wasn't his fault, even if it was just the spell that had been placed on him, she could hardly stand to hear it.

Then again, Oliver had given her by far the most information she'd had on the Maestro. That made his rescue worth it.

Unfortunately, if the Maestro were actually on her trail, she was not prepared to fight him yet. Her rune's effectiveness had faded before she could finish the job with Alexander, and the Maestro was no doubt stronger than that. She needed better safeguards if she wanted to stand a chance.

The car sputtered to a stop in front of the hospital. Thankfully, Vivian was strong enough to carry Oliver, who was in no shape to walk on his own. He groaned as she took him through the double doors and into the dingy lobby. Vivian was very well acquainted with this hospital, as it was the only one in the city open throughout the night.

The night nurse behind the desk put down her magazine. "What happened to him?"

"He accidentally fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. He also hit his head and may have other injuries."

She nodded and stood. "We'll get him into a bed right away. There are no doctors on staff right now, but one of the nurses can examine the fracture, set the bone, and give him something to ease the pain. There will be a doctor to see him in the morning."

"That'll do." Vivian followed the nurse into a hall, where patients lay on thin white mattresses. They were mostly asleep or half-awake, but a few stared at them with wide eyes as they passed. The nurse gestured to an open bed, and Vivian lay Oliver down on it, trying to be careful with his battered leg.

"Are you his wife or his sister?" the nurse asked.

"Nothing like that. I hardly know him. He was… in need of a room, and staying at my house temporarily."

"I see. Does he have any family we could contact?"

"No. In fact, if anyone comes by claiming to be his family, you should turn them away." It wouldn't do much good if Alexander came calling, as he'd have this nurse's mind in his grasp in seconds, but she might as well try.

Vivian and the nurse returned to the lobby, and the nurse waved a piece of paper at Vivian. "Could you at least fill out the intake form? We'll need his name and --"

"His name's Oliver. I don't know his last name or anything else about him. And I need to get going." This unexpected emergency had burned a critical part of her night, and she needed to get back on track if she had any hope of finding Alexander before he found her. With Oliver's blood in the air, she was at even more of a disadvantage.

She'd done what she could for Oliver. With the way his leg looked, he might never walk properly again, but that was the doctors' problem. The best thing she could do for him now would be to dispose of his vampiric master.

Vivian got back in the car and slumped in the driver's seat. She took out her knife and carved the familiar rune, something she might need to do several times tonight in case she were ambushed. Where was Alexander most likely to be? If he caught the scent of Oliver's blood -- and depending on how keen his senses were, he might be able to do so from miles away -- then he'd be either here at the hospital or at the safe house. Hopefully the thralls had evacuated for the train station by now.

With any luck, she'd be able to catch her quarry prowling near the safe house. As she drove, she considered her strategy. She knew now that she couldn't rely on the rune for long, not when Alexander began to sing, so she would have to make it quick. She had an incapacitation spell, but it probably wouldn't be enough to stop his voice, and --

Vivian screamed as a pedestrian appeared in the road in front of her, swerving the car and driving it halfway onto the sidewalk. She'd been so absorbed in thought that she hadn't even seen the woman in time. Heart pounding, she opened the door and went to the poor soul she'd nearly hit. It was a young woman in a floral sundress, with an innocent and sweet face, a visage that would have fooled anyone but a seasoned hunter. As it was, Vivian realized her mistake before she'd taken even a few steps.

"Don't move," said the woman, her voice carrying an air of authority. Vivian's rune burned as it absorbed the command, and she could tell immediately that this vampire was extraordinarily powerful. With Alexander lurking out there, this was the worst time possible for her to run into another vampire.

And it would be much, much worse if it wasn't a coincidence at all, if the two vampires were working together.

Vivian pulled her silver knife with one hand and a strength draught with another. The possibility that she was working with Alexander meant that her usual trick, pretending to be enthralled to get the vampire to let their guard down, wouldn't work, and that meant she had to rely on physical prowess to quickly end it. The vampire was at least a foot shorter than Vivian, a bit plump with no muscle, and if she were a human, she'd be no match for Vivian. With vampires, though, their appearance was a poor indicator of their abilities.

"Oh, dear, is that any way to treat me after you nearly ran me over?" said the vampire, honey sweet. "Why don't you just lay down that weapon and relax, and we can have a nice chat."

Vivian didn't bother to respond, as there was no point. Anything this vampire said was intended for the sole purpose of trapping her mind. She downed the strength potion in one gulp, trying not to gag on its rotten meat smell, and charged.

The vampire seemed to be taken off guard by the force of Vivian's blow, staggering backwards and losing her footing. Vivian didn't hesitate, jumping on top of her and pinning one arm, aiming her silver knife straight at her heart.

"Stop!" she cried out, and although her rune absorbed the magic, it was enough to make her hesitate for just one second, enough time for the vampire to toss her off and stand up again. Vivian leapt to her feet and was about to try again when she heard an echoing song from nearby. Alexander. He was here too.

"I don't want to hurt you," said the vampire, weaving her spell. "You'll feel much better if you calm down and stop fighting."

Sleep, said the song in her mind. Give up and rest. You're exhausted. Close your tired eyes and go to sleep.

The rune was searing itself into her arm, its power draining too quickly with the enthralling spells of two vampires prodding at her mind. She had to take one out quickly, and judging from the fight last night, Alexander was the weaker of the two. She feigned as if she were lunging at the other vampire again, and as soon as she braced herself for the impact, she turned and leapt in the direction of the song.

"Oh, no, you don't." The other vampire grabbed her arms from behind, restraining her. "I told you, you need to calm down and stop fighting."

Alexander stepped out of the shadows, his song more insistent. Surrender. Obey. Sleep.

"No, let go of me!" Vivian managed to free the hand with the silver knife, only to have it caught by Alexander. Her potion gave her the strength to shake him off, trying to plunge the knife into his chest, when the other vampire dragged her backwards, causing her to swipe at the air.

"None of that. You don't need to fight," whispered the sweet voice in her ear. "You don't need to think. You just need to surrender."

Go to sleep. Shut your eyes. Surrender. Open your mind and listen.

The brand on her arm was flickering, and now Vivian was truly scared. She was at a severe disadvantage now that she'd failed to take either vampire down quickly, and if her protections faltered, it would be impossible to resist their spell. She kicked backwards at the vampire holding her, managing to sweep out one leg and sending them both toppling onto the road.

"So feisty!" she said, laughing. "Oh, you're going to be a fun one. All you have to do is surrender, and then we can play together."

Alexander wrenched the silver knife from her grasp, cutting himself in the process and tossing the knife half a block away. Even as he clenched at the wound on his hand, his singing didn't falter.

But Vivian's brand did. She could feel her muscles relaxing against her will, her mind clouding.

The other vampire pulled her close, speaking seductively in her ear. "Good girl. Just submit to me. Submit and surrender yourself."

Surrender yourself, Alexander's song echoed. Sleep and obey.

She pushed against the insidious commands with all her might. This was it. She had one last chance. The other vampire had made the fatal mistake of allowing Vivian to be close, believing her to be enthralled. She would only have one shot at this.

As quick as she could, she pulled her second knife from her belt and thrust it towards the vampire's heart.

"Lily!"

Time seemed to slow. Alexander shoved the vampire aside, the silver knife catching him in his upper arm. He cried out, clutching the burning wound, as Vivian reeled.

Lily. The expert in human subjugation, the name on every other thrall's lips when they were asked who had hypnotized them. The vampire who'd captured and enthralled every hunter who'd gone after her. The vampire that scared Vivian more than any others save the Maestro. She was here, ready to silence Vivian's mind forever.

"Oh, no, you don't, you rotten little brat!" said Lily, grabbing Vivian around the chest. Vivian's hand was still free enough to plunge the knife into her side, earning an agonized shriek. Lily collapsed onto the road, the gash steaming where the silver had burned her.

The triumph was short-lived, however, because Alexander grabbed her from behind and sang a pure, clear note in her ear, one which stopped any thoughts in their tracks. Vivian pulled away, but he was singing of sleep, sleep, sleep -- and her defenses were faltering. She swayed uncertainly on her feet, lifting up the knife to defend herself, even as thick drowsiness enveloped her mind and body.

When she swung the knife at Alexander, it was clumsy and slow, not like the blow she'd used against Lily. He caught it easily, disarming her of her second knife and grabbing both of her wrists.

The brand on Vivian's arm went numb, shedding the last of its protection, and with that, Vivian felt herself sinking into a fatal stupor. She'd never felt this way before -- like she was going to lose.

So this really was it. This was her end, captured and forced into servitude. It was just like she'd told Oliver would happen, if she lost.

And this was the vampire Oliver thought she could reason with! He'd brought a specialist in human enslavement as his backup. All vampires were the same deep down, just as she'd thought.

Surrender, he sang. Submit to me and obey.

"Oliver… thought you… were better than this…" she said.

"What?" That startled the vampire out of his perilous song, giving Vivian a moment to try and collect herself.

"Focus, Lex," said Lily from where she was curled on the floor. "She's trying to get a rise out of you."

Alexander resumed his song before Vivian could truly catch her breath. Go to sleep, go to sleep and surrender, let your mind sleep and open to my words.

"That's it, go to sleep," Lily coaxed. "No more fighting. Off to dreamland."

Vivian had never been this exhausted before, so utterly spent that no matter how hard she fought against it, she couldn't stop her head from nodding forward and heavy eyes from closing. Alexander caught her as she pitched forward, holding her gently and stroking her hair. He smelled of soap.

And Vivian's tired mind finally gave up.

It was like a rubber band finally snapping under tension. As soon as she lost the battle against enthrallment, she fell deep and hard into enchanted slumber, immediately dropping down into the hypnosis she'd fought so hard against. Alexander continued to sing to her, his voice dark and sure, and Vivian opened to it, allowing the song to pour into her defenseless mind.

"There, now, you are truly under my control."

"Yes, sir," she said, without a second thought. That was what thralls said, and she was a thrall now.

"Very good. You will tell me the truth."

"I will tell you the truth, sir."

"Lex, be careful. She might be trying to trick you again," said Lily.

"If it's a trick, it's a damn good one."

"Not a trick, sir," she murmured. "I'm under your spell." It felt so right, in the strangest way. She knew what thralls did, what they acted like, and so she knew exactly what she was supposed to do. She'd never felt so at peace, forgetting what had made her so frightened.

"Where is Oliver?" he asked.

"In the hospital, sir."

"The hospital!"

"He broke his leg falling down the stairs, sir."

"Damn," Alexander swore. "Which hospital?"

"Mercy, sir."

"I know where that is," said Lily. "I had to take a thrall there once."

"I have to go to him," said Alexander. "But I can't just leave you, and we'll need to make sure the hunter doesn't wake."

"A broken leg isn't fatal. Oliver will be just fine in the hospital, with human doctors to treat him. You can go to him tomorrow night."

"But my sire --"

"Will do what he pleases regardless of what you do. But I can't get home by myself like this, Lex, especially not with the risk that the hunter might wake up."

"You're right. I hate to leave him there in pain, but -- you're right." Alexander hummed a tune of obedience and docility, sinking Vivian further. "I can't carry you and tend to the hunter all at once, though. You'll need to heal up enough to walk. You need fresh blood."

"I was thinking the same thing," said Lily. "Her blood smells amazing. It's just the thing."

"And drinking from her will help subdue her as well. Here, let me bring her close."

Vivian felt herself being set down on the road. She was dimly aware that the vampires were going to drink from her. She'd never had a vampire's fangs on her neck before, except in her nightmares.

Alexander's song changed. Let her feed, give your blood, be still and quiet.

Vivian couldn't move, could hardly even breathe, as her shirt was pulled aside and her body arranged to make her neck more convenient for Lily to access.

"Good girl," said the sweet voice in her ear. "This won't hurt at all. This is going to feel wonderful, and then you'll know what your true purpose was all along."

Still and quiet. Feel no pain.

The cold fangs settled onto her vulnerable neck for just a moment before biting down, and Vivian was lost, so utterly lost.

Prev > Masterlist

She'll be fine, probably. Next week: One of Alexander's worst days.

Thanks for reading!

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[just-some-random-blogger]

You've done it again. She's done it again. ALLIE WHAT IF I

(I FUCKING HATE THIS GIF SO MUCH I HAVE I SAY IT EVERYTIME I USE IT ITS SO BAD BUT ITS ALSO SO ME ITS AHHHHHHHHH GAGGOOOOOOO FUCKKKIINGGGGGG SHITTT)

What a way to end this. I cannot express how satisfying this was.

Ngl when say the angst tag I was like YUM I'm readdyyyyyy. I have to say though I might need to check my pulse cos I didn't flinch at the angst at all 😭😭😭 I was waiting to be kicked in the teeth but we got an anxious tick that resolved within 24 hours. Couldn't be me 😭😭😭 I'm insane I have a fic where I've been torturing YN for fucking 20+ years 😭😭😭😭😭😭 ALLIE IM NOT WELL HAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

ANYWAY I SAW THE END PART YOU WERE LOOKING FOR IDEAS AND FUCKING HELL ID LOVE TO SEE YOU STAB INTO ANGST I WANT YOU TO HIT ME WITH A STEEL CHAIR AND BASH MY BRAINS OUT UGHHHH YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND IM A MASOCHIST JEJSJSJDJSNSJWJSJWJNWNA IF YOU WANT STAB MY EYES OUT I WOULD THANK YOU

anyway after all that mental unwellness. IMMA MAKE SURE I DONT LOSE THIS REBLOG FUCK YOU TUMBLR 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

It was strange sitting in Bill’s office without him, curled up in the armchair he devoured you in, book open in your lap.

*SLOWED SOUND OF A GUNSHOT* WTF YOU STARTING LIKE THIS IS INSANE WORK WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU (absolutely nothing you're a master mind incredible amazing mwah 😘)

[...] but your mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of its writer to absorb any of it.

She like me fr

Bill had been in Cairo for 12 days, six hours, and nine minutes, every tick of the clock like a barb in your skin, leeching black, poisonous doubt into your blood.

WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF THATS INCREDIBLE WORK 🫵WITCH🫵 HO IS U MAGIC HOW DOES ONE WRITE LIKE THAT DAFAQ BARB IN YOUR SKIN IS INSANNNEEEEEE

Would he still want you when he returned? Will the time away give him clarity to how insane you both were acting? Would you be reduced to a fling? No longer desirable now that you've been flung?

🧍‍♀️ are you mentally enslaved (clearly) gago ka wala pa nga inunahan mo na [tr: (curse word) there's nothing yet and you're already ahead/getting ahead of yourself] miss ma'am shut the fuck up. Disrespectfully.

The time, the space, was making you second guess yourself, second guess him.

I understand you. But also shucho trap rat. WALA PAAAAAAAA (idk how to translate this NOTHING YET)

But fuck, you wanted him desperately, the ache for him like a hole in your lungs.

GIRLLLL 🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚 WHEN I TELL YOU MY READING COMPREHENSION WAS ACTINGGGG UPPPP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I DEADASS THOUGHT YOU WROTE SMTH SMTH FILL YOUR ACHING IN YOUR HOLE I WAS LIKE 😨😨😨 WOAHHHHHH AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH 🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚

I MEANNNNN 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 WHERES THE LIE I WAS LIKE GIRL WILDING BUT WHO AM I TO JUDGE SHES SO VALID 😭😭💀💀💀🤚🤚🤚🤚

NO CUZ I WAS LIKE UNPROVOKED???? BUT ALSO I MEANNNNN HE MADE YOU COME 3 TIMES SO YEAHHHHHHH KINDA PROVOKED HAHAHAH I WAS JUST SO JARRED COS IT WAS SO OUTTA NOWHERE AND I WAS LIKE ALLIE WOULD NEVER BUT IF YOU DID I RESPECT IT CUZ REAL AHHAHAHAHA

Rain was coming down in sheets, wind buffeting against your coat, but when you rounded the corner towards your flat, the bulk of a man standing in the rain in front of your door stopped you in your tracks.

BILL❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓

“Bill?” You gasped, and he lifted his head, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, copper hair pulled back in a messy bun.

HE WHAT IN A MESSY BUN??????

You launched yourself at him, completely overcome with relief, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

The most normal response ever

You reluctantly pulled away and riffled through your bag for your keys. [...] Butterflies rioted in your stomach, [...]

🫵WITTCHHHHH🫵 HO IS U MAGIC HOW YOU WRITE LIKE THAT

“Missed you, little bird,” he mumbled, pressing a tender kiss to your pulse.

“You really want to talk about work? That's where you just came from, isn't it?” He said while shirking his own coat.

No. I want to eat you. I fucking hate you stupid fucking idiot fuck you in trying to be a human and you're making me into a monster. Eat shit and die

You snorted. “Really? William ‘Never-Takes-A-Day-Off’ Weasley is going to lecture me on working too much?”

☝️That part. Clocked.

“Backtalk, too? Have you forgotten your manners while I was away?” He backed you against your kitchen island, lips a breath away from yours.

What are you gonna do about it 🙄🖕 btw

“Haven't felt anything soft in days,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

Ho why is u lyin. You have a bed. They have beds in Cairo. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🤚 FUCK OUTTA HERE

“Don't make me break in!” Fred warned, knocking with a little more force. “I'd hate to do it again!”

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FREDDDDIIIEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THE WAY IS STARTED SCREAMING LIKE ACTUALLY SCREAMING WHEN THEY CAME AROUND

“Just—fuck, get in the closet!” You tried to push Bill towards your bedroom, but only managed to move him a few steps.

🧍‍♀️ why. Why. WHY. The fuck are they being so stupid???? Hello????? MY EYE IS TWITCHING

“Why did he break in before?” He asked, fighting a smile at your helpless attempt to move him.

Because we're fucking. Next weasley

Bill chuckled and walked the rest of the way into your bedroom at the same moment you heard George cast alohomora.

SCREAMING I FEEL PERSONALLY ATTACKED COS I WROTE A FIC AND DIDNT KNOW THIS SPELL AND HAHAHAHAHHAAHHHAHAHA ARE YOU ATTACKING ME HAHAHAHAHHAHHAH

“Darling, is there a man in this flat?” George asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

Are you a chicken? 🙄🤚 Shut the fuck up george

“You sure you know this bloke well enough to be here alone with him?” Fred asked, moving closer to the closet, the humor having drained from his voice.

🫵you🫵 know him well enough. Also, he's had his fingers inside me 😋😋😋😋

“What's his name?” George asked. “Maybe Bill’s mentioned him?”

You're not gonna believe this

“You don't even know his name?” Fred whisper-shouted, glaring at you with a strange mix of pride and concern.

WELL FRED BLABBERMOUTH WEASLEY. IF YOU ACTUALLY LET HER FUCKING SPEAK MAYBE SHED TELL YOU BUT NOOOOOOOOOOO YOURE MOUTH RUNNING LIKE A FUCKING MOTOR OH MY FUCKJNG SHIT SHUT THE FUCK UPPPP (I love you I would kiss you until your lips bruise)

“Did this prick scare you?” Fred asked, turning his attention back to the closet door.

😭😭😭😭😭😭 HES BEING SO STUPID BUT SO DARLING FREDDDD SET ME FREE SET ME FREEE

“Hey, fuckface, what are you doing in her closet?” Fred banged on the door, and you died a little inside.

THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS THE WAY I WAS SCREAMING SO BAD SO GOOD MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY HAS BEEN CHANGED AGAIN I FEARRR HAHAHAHAH

“B-Bill?” Fred stammered, taking a step back.

“You two have some fucking nerve,” Bill growled, and the twins scattered as he dashed out of the closet after them.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THEYRE SO SIBLING CODED ANAJJSJSJSKAKJHAHAAHAH SCATTERING IS CRAZZYYY WORKKK RUN WHITE BOYS RUN

“We're sorry! We didn't know!” George called, vaulting over your couch.

GEORGIEEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 GIMMEEEE KISSS DID THE BAD MAN HURT YOUUUUUUU ILL SAVE YOU *ROLLS UP MAGAZINE* STAY BACK 🤺 😭😭😭😭 vaulting is crZyyyyyyy

“What the fuck, y/n?” Fred shouted, diving under your bed.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 UNDER YOUR BEDDDDD?????????? 🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚🤚 ALSO HOW IS IT MY FAULLTTTTTTTTTTTTT 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵 YOU UNLOCKED MY DOOR GENIUS

Bill turned on him, throwing one of your pillows at his head. “I'm not fucking her!”

🧍‍♀️ awie ngl I thought this was where the angst was gonna start. Though she was gonna pull a Jace Wayland:

"how swiftly you dismiss our love" ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

**unrelated** I literally discovered I could insert gifs via links because of your last bill fic I was so desperate to add them cos of how good it was

“Your girl?” Bill challenged, and you groaned.

🗣️WHAT🗣️ABOUT🗣️IT🗣️ put a ring on it then if you're so mad 🙄🤚 bill Weasley marry me challenge

“Congratulations on your boning! Bye!” George chirped, apparating too.

😭😭😭😭😭😭 MY SHAYLA I LOVE HIM

“They won't say anything,” he said, smoothing back his hair.

Your honor i don't know how I feel

“Don’t say anything else. I want you to sleep on it,” he said, straightening. “Take the day off tomorrow, too. Then you can tell me what you want to do, and we'll do it.” His voice was firm, but not unkind, a tone of finality that had you nodding in acceptance. “Goodnight, love.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then released you, apparating away before you could blink.

We love an emotionally available and level headed man. I would ruin his life

When you landed sprawled in his yard instead of standing on his front porch, it occurred to you that surprising the Curse-breaker in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm was a stupid idea, but it was too late now.

LOL GET HEXED

Bill bound down the steps, grabbing you by the throat and silencing you with a savage, bruising kiss.

HE WHAT❓❓❓❓❓❓

He hummed low in his chest, petting a hand over your damp hair. “Whatcha doin’, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice silken.

TRYING TO EATTTTT YOU???????????

“You want my cock, darling?” He asked, gently sweeping your hair into a ponytail, the strands held together by his fist.

He tsked, smirking. “I suppose I could indulge you for a bit.” With his free hand, he reached into the front his pants, freeing himself. He wrapped his hand around the base, a pearl of precum squeezing from the swollen tip.

I'm fine

“Such a good fucking slut, gagging on my cock—this what you wanted? To be pushed to your limits?” Bill clutched your jaw with his other hand, feeling the strain in your muscles, the force of him stretching your mouth wider, and he groaned, head tipping back on his shoulders. “I'm gonna mold that pretty little throat in the shape of my cock, yeah? You're mine. This throat is mine.”

Btw my sister was gagged by the way I laughed at this like the truly insane person I am

Again, you had the echo of the feeling that you were an artifact under his jurisdiction, being examined with the utmost attention, like the code to cracking you open was written on your skin.

GAGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOBOTOMY THIS IS SO GOOD WHAT THE FUCKKKK

When if finally spit you back out, gasping and overwrought on the shore of Bill's bed, he was still lapping at you, his face and shirt soaked with your release.

WHY THE FUCK IS HIS SHIRT STILL ON THE FUCK THIS FUCKING MISOGYNIC PIECE OF SHIT WHAT ABOUT EQUAL OPPORTUNITIES FUCK YOU

“Good fucking girl, well done,” he cooed, withdrawing his fingers to massage the ache from your trembling thighs, his tongue dipping down to drink at the pool of your pleasure. “Twice more, now. That's my girl.”

T-T-T-T-TWICE?????? TWICE MORE??? IS THREE YOUR LUCKY NUMBER BILL. Illuminati confirmed. Im going to go booster

When you came down from the third, twitching and raw, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, he finally relented.

Me

CRYINF AT THIS GIF HAHAHHHAHAH

“Insatiable,” he purred with approval, shifting to slide down his sweatpants fully and kicking them off.

MEEEEE?????? 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ YOURE 🫵 OUT HERE ACTING LIKE YOURE NOT MAKING ME COME 3000000 TIMES

BTW LAST TIME BEFORE MY TUMBLR GOT RUDELY EATEN. I SAID LAST TIME I FELT LIKE I FUCKING CAME WHILE READING YOUR WORK AND I DIDN'T EVEN 🌚🌝 TOUCH MYSELF HAHAAHHHAHA FR IT SO GOOD ALLLIEEEEE IDC OF THIS IS TMI IT WAS SO GOOD YOU SET THE PRECEDENT SO HIGH I FEAR

“Being balls deep in this fucking pussy, feeling your wrapped around me, squeezing my cock the way you do my fingers.”

JDJDJDJDJJSJSJ CALL ME CHICKEN COS BUCOOOOOOCKKKKK

He shuddered, a breathy moan fanning against your neck, as his control severed. He slammed his cock into you, sheathing himself completely in your depths, and you both cried out, clinging to one another as he dragged his hips back, then slammed them forward again and again. Rutting into you like a feral beast. Brutalizing every inch of your overworked pussy, your overworked mind, until you were brainless, boneless, his to claim entirely.

It's fine I'm fine totally not thinking about getting fucked silly by bill Weasley hahah you're so crazy

“Come for me, love. Give it to me,” he growled, his free hand dipping down to work your clit, his thrusts growing rougher by the second. Tearing you apart on his cock.

HAHAHHAHAH ITS FINE IM SO NORMAL FUCK YOU I HATE IT HERE

“Fuck yes,” he huffed, breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Gonna paint this cunt white. Make you mine.”

Bill sank in his teeth into your neck, bottoming out while his cock kicked inside of you, fulfilling his promise and painting your insides with his release. You collapsed onto the bed, scattered pieces in the swallow of space, half-there with Bill as he fucked you both through it, kissing at your neck and muttering praise, and half-gone, a disembodied soul floating on a river of bliss.

FUCKING YOU THROUGH IT OVERSTIM MY BELOVED INSANITY GO BRRRRRR

Slowly, you returned piece by piece until air slammed back into your lungs and you were gasping, shivering, clinging desperately to him.

“Sh, sh I’ve got you. You're alright,” he shushed, shifting on the bed to fold you into his chest, raining kisses over your forehead and temple. “You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you.”

Mdjiskskksskk PRAISE KINK GO BRRRR FUCKKKKKKKK I NEED A CIGARETTE (DONT SMOKE)

Allie.... Hand in marriage 💍💍💍 this was so good. I fear I've been too spoiled. The second one haunts me. I fear I will never experience a high like that ever again in my life. I'm not saying that because im shitting in this one ARE YOU KIDDING ME FRED AND GEORGE STOLE THIS FIC This is so sweet I FEAR IM SIMPLY SO SPOILED I JUSY I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT MY BRAIN IS LITTERALLY CHANGED I KEEP GOING BACK TO THAT SECOND ONE FUCKK SHIT FUCKKK

MAKE NO MISTAKE THIS IS INCREDIBLE NO LOOSE ENDS I COULD NEVER IM A MESSY MESSY GIRLLLLLL BUT NOT AS MESSY AS BILL'S GIRL FFUCKKKK THAT SHOUKD BE MEEEEEE

Anyway I'm going to manifest bill Weasley in my bedroom now

Love care

Magic Lessons p.3 | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x intern!reader

SUMMARY: Bill returns from Cairo, but doubt began to creep into your mind during his absence, dredging up old wounds for the both of you.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, mischievious twins, pleasuredom!Bill, angst angst angst angst, mentions of Fenrir’s attack and the war, mentions of divorce, some rough oral and piv, slight breeding kink, possessive!Bill, fluffy HEA

AN: this is now a completed series! yay!

part one | part two | masterlist

It was strange sitting in Bill’s office without him, curled up in the armchair he devoured you in, book open in your lap. You'd been trying for an hour to decipher his notes on a particular curse, tracing the small, angular letters with tired eyes, but your mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of its writer to absorb any of it.

Bill had been in Cairo for 12 days, six hours, and nine minutes, every tick of the clock like a barb in your skin, leeching black, poisonous doubt into your blood.

Would he still want you when he returned? Will the time away give him clarity to how insane you both were acting? Would you be reduced to a fling? No longer desirable now that you've been flung?

The time, the space, was making you second guess yourself, second guess him. What you were doing was reckless. Stupid, even. Risking the future you'd imagined for yourself since you were a first year at Hogwarts. You’d be a stain on Bill’s impressive career, and the thought of him eventually coming to resent you, regret you, for possibly ruining a decade of hard work…it made you physically ill.

Could you do that to him? To yourself?

But fuck, you wanted him desperately, the ache for him like a hole in your lungs. You found yourself spending longer and longer hours in his office, craving his presence, his aura, and the sanctuary of his space was the closest you could come to replicating that.

You sighed and set the notes aside for the night, the sun having set some hours before. With unhurried movements, you packed up your belongings and tidied his office on the off chance he returned the following day. You wanted it to be presentable for him, leaving no evidence that you'd been holed up there for nearly two weeks, besides the stack of completed work.

You took the Floo Station to the nearest one by your flat like you always did, ready to wash off your makeup, get into your pajamas, and order some Chinese food. Rain was coming down in sheets, wind buffeting against your coat, but when you rounded the corner towards your flat, the bulk of a man standing in the rain in front of your door stopped you in your tracks.

It took less than a heartbeat for you to realize who it was.

“Bill?” You gasped, and he lifted his head, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, copper hair pulled back in a messy bun.

He took a step towards you. “Sorry, I—”

You launched yourself at him, completely overcome with relief, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “You're home,” you whispered, relaxing fully when his arm looped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest under the safety of the umbrella.

“I'm home,” he sighed, nuzzling into the top of your head. He smelled of train cars and petrichor, with lingering traces of cologne applied hours earlier, and you wanted to breathe it like air. “Can we go inside?” He asked, settling his hand on your hip with a soft squeeze.

“Yes! Merlin, sorry,” you giggled, a twinge of nerves in your stomach at the thought of having Bill inside your little flat.

You reluctantly pulled away and riffled through your bag for your keys. Bill's arm slid around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he nosed into the curve of your shoulder. Butterflies rioted in your stomach, your hands growing so clumsy to nearly dropped your key while you inserted it into the lock.

“Missed you, little bird,” he mumbled, pressing a tender kiss to your pulse.

“I missed you too,” you said, leaning your head against his. You managed to get the door open and Bill released you so you could move inside, and he closed the door behind you both, collapsing the umbrella and setting it by the door. “So, how were things in Egypt?” You asked, hanging your bag on the hook.

Bill slid your rain-soaked jacket off your shoulders, down your arms, his touch feather light, and hung it up as well. “You really want to talk about work? That's where you just came from, isn't it?” He said while shirking his own coat.

You flushed, embarrassed that he saw through you so easily. “It is,” you admitted. “And as long as you're alright, I don't want to talk about work.”

He smirked, reaching out to cradle your face in his hand, the other settling on your hip. “I'm perfect now, love. Although, we’re going to have a discussion about your work-life balance.”

You snorted. “Really? William ‘Never-Takes-A-Day-Off’ Weasley is going to lecture me on working too much?”

“Backtalk, too? Have you forgotten your manners while I was away?” He backed you against your kitchen island, lips a breath away from yours.

“No, sir,” you hummed, barely suppressing a grin as days worth of pent up desire came surging forth, your pulse racing between your legs.

He sighed, breath fanning against your cheek. “Merlin, you sound so pretty.” His hand on your hip moved around your back, pressing your bodies together. “Haven't felt anything soft in days,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Take me to bed?” You asked, brushing an escaped strand of hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear.

“Thought you'd never ask,” he chuckled and scooped you up into his arms—

Knock knock!

“Open up! We brought pizza!” The twins serenaded through the door, and Bill swiveled his head to look at you.

“Oh fuck, I completely forgot.” You squirmed and Bill set you back on your feet, though he didn't relinquish his hold. “We planned a movie night.”

“Tell them to bugger off,” he huffed, bending down to kiss your neck.

“Bill, that's rude!”

“Don't care,” he muttered, lapping at your pulse, and your mind began to drift, lost in the feeling of him.

“We’re getting soaked out here!” George called.

“Don't make me break in!” Fred warned, knocking with a little more force. “I'd hate to do it again!”

“Again?” Bill's head snapped towards the door.

“Just—fuck, get in the closet!” You tried to push Bill towards your bedroom, but only managed to move him a few steps.

“Why did he break in before?” He asked, fighting a smile at your helpless attempt to move him.

“I locked myself out! I'll get rid of them, just, please get in there!” You pushed your shoulder into his sternum, peddling your legs like cartoon character.

He sighed, taking a step back and nearly sending your sprawling onto the floor. “Ten minutes.”

“Thank you!”

Bill chuckled and walked the rest of the way into your bedroom at the same moment you heard George cast alohomora.

The twins barged in, wands raised as if you were in peril.

“What took you so bloody long?”

“Why are you just standing there?”

“Whose coat is that?”

“I, actually, um—” you wracked your brain for an excuse.

“Darling, is there a man in this flat?” George asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Uh—yes!” you whispered back. “I met him at work and we hit it off. I'm sorry, I forgot about our plans.”

George scoffed, a teasing smirk on his face. “So you'd rather have a shag then hang out with us?”

“Y’know, if you needed to blow off a little steam—” Fred started when something crashed in your closet, making the three of you jump.

“Is he…in your closet?” George raised an eyebrow.

“No, no! That's, uh—”

Fred pushed past you, striding into your room.

“Fred!” You snapped, trying to grab him, but he batted your hand away. “Just please, go.”

“You sure you know this bloke well enough to be here alone with him?” Fred asked, moving closer to the closet, the humor having drained from his voice.

“What's his name?” George asked. “Maybe Bill’s mentioned him?”

“It’s, uh—”

“You don't even know his name?” Fred whisper-shouted, glaring at you with a strange mix of pride and concern.

“No, I do! He, uh—”

“Are you okay?” George asked, his brothers concern reflected in his face. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “You're shaking, love.”

“Did this prick scare you?” Fred asked, turning his attention back to the closet door.

“No! Merlin’s sake, please just go! I'm fine!”

“Hey, fuckface, what are you doing in her closet?” Fred banged on the door, and you died a little inside.

Silence echoed around the flat.

“Open the door, mate,” Fred ordered, and George pulled you a little closer to his chest.

More silence. You had no doubt Bill had apparated, and the twins were about to think you were insane.

“Three, two—” Fred yanked open the door, revealing his older brother standing in the middle of your closet, his arms crossed over his chest. “B-Bill?” Fred stammered, taking a step back.

“You two have some fucking nerve,” Bill growled, and the twins scattered as he dashed out of the closet after them.

“We're sorry! We didn't know!” George called, vaulting over your couch.

“What the fuck, y/n?” Fred shouted, diving under your bed.

“Would it kill you two to mind your own fucking business?” Bill dragged Fred out by his ankles, his little brother desperately clawing at the ground.

You'd find it funny if it weren't for your secret being out, the very thing that kept you up every night for the last two weeks.

“You're the one fucking our friend!” George shouted, effectively diverting attention from his twin.

Bill turned on him, throwing one of your pillows at his head. “I'm not fucking her!”

Fred scurried behind your bedroom door. “Then why are you here so late!”

“And hiding in like a ghoul in the closet!”

“Can we just calm down—” You tried.

“I just got back from—come here, you little shit! I just got back from Cairo and needed to check in with her—George!”

“Bullshit!” Fred countered. “You're fucking our girl!”

“Hey!”

Bill froze, turning his head to peer at Fred, pillow aloft.

“Your girl?” Bill challenged, and you groaned.

“See! I knew it! Oh fuck—” Bill chucked the pillow at Fred and he apparated at the same instant, the pillow flying right through where he was standing and landing on your bed.

“Fucker,” Bill bit.

“Congratulations on your boning! Bye!” George chirped, apparating too.

Bill sighed, turning to you.

“Couldn't keep your cool, huh?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“They won't say anything,” he said, smoothing back his hair.

“I know, it's just—” Tendrils of anxiety wrapped around your throat, tightening until you were silenced.

“What, love?” He asked, taking a careful step towards you, sensing your mounting anxiety.

“What are we doing? This is—”

Bill was quiet for a moment. “You said you wanted this,” he murmured, a sharpness around the edges of his words.

“I do!” You cried, frustrated with yourself. “But that doesn't mean we should be doing it. Bill, if it got out that you were screwing your intern, your career would be over. And so would mine, before it even started. I mean, hiding from our coworkers, from your family, it’s just…”

His jaw flexed, shoulders squaring. “So you want to end things here? Go back to before we—” he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Is that what you really want?”

Tears burned your eyes, nausea churning in your stomach. “I don't know—”

“I don't believe you,” he growled. “The way you look at me, the way you were holding me not even ten minutes ago—” his voice cracked. “I don't believe that you want to end this.”

“Maybe it isn't what I want, but it's what we should do. You know that, Bill,” you said through the lump in your throat, voice pinched and small. “We need to stop before this goes too far.”

He looked like you'd slapped him. “What do you mean ‘too far’?”

You turned away from him, tears coming in earnest now. He stalked into your bedroom and caught your elbow, spinning you back around.

“Tell me what you meant,” he pleaded, pulling your hands away from you face, your eyes wet and puffy with tears.

“You know what I meant!” You shouted, yanking your hands out of his grip.

“So even with the potential for…that, you’re still going to end this?” He asked, his voice low. “That isn't worth it to you?”

You couldn't answer him, you arms wrapped around yourself as you trembled, biting back the sob on the tip of your tongue.

“Answer me,” he repeated, softening his voice.

“What if you resent me? What if you—” your voice fractured, brittle with shame and fear. “What if you regret me?”

He leaned down, forcing you to meet his eye. “There's a lot of things I regret on my life,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But I never thought I would get the chance to love someone again, not after Fenrir. Not after the war, not after the divorce—” he drew a shaky inhale.

Guilt dogged at you, and you opened your mouth to speak, but he pressed on.

“There's nothing I wouldn't risk to have that chance again. I would give up everything, my career, my house, all of it. And regardless of what happens between us, I'll never regret you.” He cupped your face again, and this time you allowed him, eyes swimming with unshed tears, your heart mending and breaking all at once.

“Bill, I—”

“Don’t say anything else. I want you to sleep on it,” he said, straightening. “Take the day off tomorrow, too. Then you can tell me what you want to do, and we'll do it.” His voice was firm, but not unkind, a tone of finality that had you nodding in acceptance. “Goodnight, love.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then released you, apparating away before you could blink.

You were left stunned and alone in your torn apart bedroom, reeling from Bill’s words. Growing weak, your knees folded beneath you and you collapsed onto the floor, a sob bursting from your chest.

Such a coward, you scolded yourself. Of course he's worth the risk.

You wanted or rush over to Shell Cottage and tell him, beg him to forgive you for being so stupid, but he told you to sleep on it. To be sure of whatever answer you gave him. So you shirked your work wear and climbed into bed, squeezing your eyes shut, and prayed for sleep to take you swiftly.

It didn't. You laid awake for hours, until finally, at two o’clock in the morning, you couldn't stand it any longer.

You pulled on your lucky pair of jeans and jumper, washed away your smudged makeup, and apparated to Shell Cottage.

When you landed sprawled in his yard instead of standing on his front porch, it occurred to you that surprising the Curse-breaker in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm was a stupid idea, but it was too late now.

Bill wrenched open the door, hair rumpled and dressed only in sweatpants, his wand aimed at you, green wisps of magic dancing at the end of it. Thunder rolled overhead, a crack of lightning making you jump.

“Bill,” you gasped, stepping into the light of his front porch, and he nearly dropped his wand.

“Y/n? What the fuck are you—”

“I'm sorry about what I said.” You jumped headfirst into your apology, needing to get it out before it drowned you. “I was scared and stupid and I didn't mean it. I want you, no matter the risks. I can't let you—I can't let this go by without trying.” Tears will spilling down your cheeks again, mixing with the rain, your words coming out in hiccuping gasps. “I'd never forgive myself for being too cowardly to try.”

Bill bound down the steps, grabbing you by the throat and silencing you with a savage, bruising kiss. He kissed you the way a drunkard takes to a keg, ravenous and greedy. You could taste whisky on his tongue, smoke on his breath, but it only made you kiss him harder, open yourself wider for him to devour.

“Inside,” he gruffed when you broke the kiss to breathe. “Now.”

You obliged, hurrying up the slick steps with him on your tail. The cottage was cozy and dimly lit, a fireplace roaring in the corner and the moon serving as the only illumination. There were books everywhere, piles of blankets and shelves lined with trinkets, art hung on every wall.

Taking advantage of your distraction, Bill scooped you up bridal-style, one arm notched under your knees, the other around your mid-back. You gasped in surprise, but quickly settled into the warmth of his chest, leaning your head against his bare shoulder to kiss along his rain-damp clavicle.

“I told you to sleep on it,” he murmured, carrying you across the living room and up a set of stairs.

“Couldn't,” you hummed, licking a jagged scar on his shoulder. “Not without fixing things.”

“Neither could I,” he said, nudging open a door with his foot and carrying you across the threshold. It was his bedroom, decorated with even more of his findings and a giant four-poster bed made of solid wood, the quilt a thick woven masterpiece that you only got to admire for a second before he was dropping you onto it and shirking your wet clothes.

He paused, muttering an incendio to light the fire place, and you sat up, head level with his sternum. Hesitantly, you kissed a long his abdomen, tracing the dips and swells of his muscles, his scars with your lips.

He hummed low in his chest, petting a hand over your damp hair. “Whatcha doin’, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice silken.

“Nothin’,” you mumbled, licking along one his scars, growing bolder as he placated you with scalp scratches. “Wanted to touch you.”

He chuckled. “Been wanting you to touch me—” he groaned when you shifted your body to lay down on the bed, kissing along the grooves of his hips, teasing the edge of his waistband with your fingers. “Baby, you don't have to—”

You cut him by licking a stripe over the hard bulge of his cock, feeling it twitch and swell through the fabric. You nearly moaned at the feel of him, thick and long and warm, and your pussy purred, fluttering around nothing.

“You want my cock, darling?” He asked, gently sweeping your hair into a ponytail, the strands held together by his fist.

You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes.

He tsked, smirking. “I suppose I could indulge you for a bit.” With his free hand, he reached into the front his pants, freeing himself. He wrapped his hand around the base, a pearl of precum squeezing from the swollen tip.

You caught the salty morsel with your tongue, kitten licking the underside of him. He tasted fucking divine, velvety smooth and masculine, and your jaw fell open on its own accord, eager to take more of him.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, feeding the first few inches into your mouth before retreating, patting your tongue with his cockhead when it chased him past your lips. “Fuck, look at you. So eager to please.”

He eased himself back into your mouth, holding still so you could move at your own pace, bobbing your head in slow, sloppy movements, savoring the heavy feel of him on your tongue.

Soft, breathy moans spilled from his lips, his hand tugging a bit harder at your roots. He started moving you up and down his length, his hips rocking forward, thrusting gently into your mouth. You moaned around him, fisting the sheets below you as a flood of arousal made you pussy throb.

“Oh, darling. You want me to be rough, don't you?” He hummed, pulling his hips back until just the tip rested on your tongue.

Your eyes lifted to his and you nodded the best you could. Please, please use me.

“Your safe word is ‘hex’, okay?”

You nodded again, pleading with your eyes.

He thrust back into your mouth, his fist keeping your head in place as he forced his cock as deep as it could go. He set a punishing pace, fucking your face with every ounce of the brutality you knew he kept locked up right in his chest, hidden from the world.

Now, hidden from everyone but you.

You both needed to let go of control, to surrender to the truth in your heart, and with each other, it was starting to seem not only possible, but safe.

“Such a good fucking slut, gagging on my cock—this what you wanted? To be pushed to your limits?” Bill clutched your jaw with his other hand, feeling the strain in your muscles, the force of him stretching your mouth wider, and he groaned, head tipping back on his shoulders. “I'm gonna mold that pretty little throat in the shape of my cock, yeah? You're mine. This throat is mine.”

You could only whimper, taking every savage thrust like it was a gift from god. More than happy to worship at the altar of Bill Weasley.

He withdrew suddenly, leaving you gasping for air, a thread of drool on connecting you. He craned your head back, lifting you until your hands left the mattress, back bent like a doll.

“This is it now, you understand? I won't go back.” His voice was rough with intensity, eyes shining with sincerity, vulnerability despite his hold on you.

“This is it,” you repeated, shuffling your knees underneath you and reaching for him. He loosened his hold so you could wrap your arms around his neck, molding your tender mouth against his in an attempt to convey what your were feeling, how much you needed him.

He kissed you back harder as thunder boomed above you, tongue twining with yours, and low groan loosened from his chest. He released you fully, sliding his hands down your back and scooping you up by your thighs, guiding your legs around his waist.

He held you aloft for a few moments, basking in the heat of the kiss, but it wasn't long until you were squirming in his hold, trying to create more friction between your bodies as desire blazed under your skin, raging like the storm outside.

In a quick movement, he broke the kiss and dropped you back onto the bed, sprawled on your back. Before you had time to process what happened, his rough hands forced your thighs apart, revealing the puffy, drippy state of you. One of his hands slid up to part your folds, exposing your sensitive bundle of nerves to the cool air of the room.

Again, you had the echo of the feeling that you were an artifact under his jurisdiction, being examined with the utmost attention, like the code to cracking you open was written on your skin.

Bill saw you down to the soul, and it terrified and exhilarated you in equal measure.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, moving to ease his middle finger inside of you, curling his knuckle to prod that gooey spot inside you and draw a moan from your lips. “The most beautiful curse I've ever had to break.”

“Bill,” you whined, hands grabbing at the sheets, hips trying to rock against his hand, needing more.

He smirked. “Seems I've already broken you, needy little thing. Haven't even gotten started.” He leaned down, laving his tongue over your clit before sucking it between his teeth, and you keened, vision tunneling as bliss washed over you. The relief so palpable it brought tears to your eyes.

He added a second finger, setting a slow but intense pace, stretching and molding you with his fingers, his mouth messily slurping on your clit to keep you loose and moaning beneath him. Pleasure signed every nerve, burning through your muscles like lactic acid, eating into your bones until they were gelatinous, a puddle of simpering goo on Bill’s bed. He was doing just enough to elicit pleasure but not enough to make you cum, and it was starting to make you desperate again, bucking your hips against him in search of more.

“Hush,” he scolded, swatting at your inner thigh when you opened your mouth to beg. “You'll be begging me to stop coming soon enough.”

You couldn't tell if it was a promise or a threat, but either way, you snapped your mouth shut, a fresh wave of arousal making your pussy clench around his fingers.

He took some mercy on you though, and picked up the pace with his fingers fucking you with his hand while he kissed up your stomach, leaving a trail of slick from his chin over your stomach to your tits. He guided a pert nipple into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue before sucking hard, and your back bowed off the bed as you cried out for him.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, urging him closer, and he obliged, bathing your tits with his lips and tongue, using his teeth to elicit sharp gasps of pain before soothing the sting with pleasure. Your orgasm began to build, winding like a gear in your low belly until you were barely able to breathe, every scrap of energy drawn to the apex of your thighs.

“Merlin, your tight, love,” he murmured against the side of your tit, kissing his way back down between your legs. “Ready to come for me?”

“Please, Bill—fuck, please,” you mewled, dragging him by the hair to your needy clit.

“So pretty when you beg,” he purred, swirling his tongue just around your clit, careful to avoid direct contact. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” you immediately answered, trying to chase his tongue with your pelvis. “I'm yours, Bill.”

He grinned. “That's right. Mine.” With that, he fastened his lips around your clit and sucked hard, curling his fingers against your g-spot at the same moment, and something inside you gave way. You came with a scream, bliss bursting through like a tsunami and dragging you under.

It filled your mind and soul, an endless torrent of bliss drowning you in its bottomless depth. When if finally spit you back out, gasping and overwrought on the shore of Bill's bed, he was still lapping at you, his face and shirt soaked with your release.

“Good fucking girl, well done,” he cooed, withdrawing his fingers to massage the ache from your trembling thighs, his tongue dipping down to drink at the pool of your pleasure. “Twice more, now. That's my girl.”

You shook your head, feeling like a wrung out sponge, but sure enough, Bill has to ratcheted back up in no time, screaming his name, clenching around his fingers as you came a second and third time. It was like magic, the way he coaxed your body into doing what he wanted, even when you thought you couldn't. Playing you like an instrument, drawing whatever song he wanted from your body.

When you came down from the third, twitching and raw, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, he finally relented.

“Did so well, darling,” he cooed, easing his fingers from you and licking them clean. “Are you alright?” He asked, resting his cheek on your thigh as you caught your breath.

You nodded, grasping at his hair again to pull him up your body. He obliged with a chuckle, letting you crash your mouth to his in a desperate, messy kiss, your essence on his tongue making your head spin even more.

“Fuck me, please,” you mumbled into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist and tugging him fully onto the bed.

“Insatiable,” he purred with approval, shifting to slide down his sweatpants fully and kicking them off. He grasped himself, sawing through your drenched slit with a groan. “This was all I could think about in Cairo,” he rasped. “Being balls deep in this fucking pussy, feeling your wrapped around me, squeezing my cock the way you do my fingers.”

“Please, baby. Need you so bad,” you whined, rocking your hips in time with his.

“Need doesn't begin to cover what I'm feeling.” His voice was a strained growl, a primal sort of plea, and it drew another whimper from your chest. “You remember your safe word?” He asked, nearly trembling with effort of not burying himself to the hilt.

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He shuddered, a breathy moan fanning against your neck, as his control severed. He slammed his cock into you, sheathing himself completely in your depths, and you both cried out, clinging to one another as he dragged his hips back, then slammed them forward again and again. Rutting into you like a feral beast. Brutalizing every inch of your overworked pussy, your overworked mind, until you were brainless, boneless, his to claim entirely.

“Feels even fucking better—shit, baby. So fucking tight and hot, so wet f’me. My perfect little cunt takin’ me so well.”

You could only moan and nod, eager as a bobblehead. “Yours,” you parroted, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he gruffed, yanking your head back by your hair so he could ravish your neck with his teeth and tongue.

You were so sensitive from before that you could already feel that knot tightening a fourth time, making you flutter and clench around him as he railed you.

“Come for me, love. Give it to me,” he growled, his free hand dipping down to work your clit, his thrusts growing rougher by the second. Tearing you apart on his cock.

Nothing else would ever satisfy you the way he was, he was molding you into the shape of him, ruining you for anyone else. No one could please you the way he did, understand your body so viscerally, so completely, that it bowed to him before it did you.

He owned you mind, body, and soul, and you wouldn't have it any other way, because you knew that you owned him too. Like a lion on a leash.

“Come with me, come with me,” you cried, your trembling body trying to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck yes,” he huffed, breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Gonna paint this cunt white. Make you mine.”

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Bill, I’m—” You came so hard you couldn't even scream, your mouth falling open as pleasure exploded from your center, a bomb detonating in the depths of your soul.

Bill sank in his teeth into your neck, bottoming out while his cock kicked inside of you, fulfilling his promise and painting your insides with his release. You collapsed onto the bed, scattered pieces in the swallow of space, half-there with Bill as he fucked you both through it, kissing at your neck and muttering praise, and half-gone, a disembodied soul floating on a river of bliss.

Slowly, you returned piece by piece until air slammed back into your lungs and you were gasping, shivering, clinging desperately to him.

“Sh, sh I’ve got you. You're alright,” he shushed, shifting on the bed to fold you into his chest, raining kisses over your forehead and temple. “You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you.”

“That was—” you panted, feeling the race of his heart under his skin, in perfect synchronicity with yours.

“I've never felt anything like that,” he murmured, nosing into your hair and taking a deep breath. “Like you.”

“Me neither.” You wrapped your arms around his middle snuggling closer. “You're a madman,” you chuckled, and you felt him smile.

“Only for you.”

You were quiet for awhile, the room filled with the sounds of your laborers breathing, the onslaught of rain on the roof, the pop and crackle of the fire.

“I'm sorry for leaving like that before,” Bill whispered, breaking the drowsy quiet. “I didn't trust myself to not lash out…” his voice trailed off, his hands tightening a bit around your body, like he was scared you'd pull away from him at the reminder of before.

“Thank you for trying to protect me,” you responded, lightly tracing the scars along his back, and tension in his body melted.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you, especially not me,” he said, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his dark irises so soft and sincere. “You really think you could fall for me?” He asked, bumping your nose with his.

“I think I've already started,” you whispered, bashful, and he beamed, catching your lips in a light, languid kiss.

“I know I was supposed to be the one teaching you…” he murmured against your mouth, kissing along your jaw, down your neck. “But you've opened my eyes so much, helped me learn the lessons I was avoiding—” his voice caught, and he buried his face in your neck, holding your naked body pressed against his, not even air separating you. “I feel like I can be the man I want to be with you,” he confessed, pressing a kiss to the bite mark he'd left along the curve of your throat. “Like I don't have to hide anymore.”

“You're mine too,” you whispered, and he loosed a breathy sound, almost like a whine, and held you even tighter. “And I want you exactly as wild and stubborn and clever and complex as you are.”

Bill shifted upwards, catching your final words with his mouth, moving purposefully, indulgently, against yours. Saying everything he couldn't express with words, and your heart was so full it started leaking from your eyes, tears snaking down your cheeks and getting caught in the kiss.

He moved his lips to catch your tears, shushing you softly. “I'm yours,” he said, pecking your lips again. “And I have those good-for-nothing jackasses to thank for it.”

You burst out laughing, flopping back onto his pillows. “They're going to be so damn smug.”

Bill groaned, burying his face in your tits. “Worth it when I get to show you off and crush their dreams.”

“They'll live,” you giggled, combing your fingers through his hair.

Bill's alarm suddenly blared from the side table. “Silencio,” he barked, and the clock fell silent once again. “We're calling out,” he mumbled.

You nodded, sleep already starting to tug at you, your limbs going heavy on the mattress. “As long as the boss says it's okay.”

He huffed a laugh. “Good thing he's a pretty laid back guy.”

You rolled your eyes behind closed lids, and hummed in agreement. That was a lesson for another day.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this series! This is the last part of the core series, but I'm considering doing a few extra drabbles that go along with it (let me know if there's anything in particular you want to see!)

taglist: @itisjustwhatitis, @carmenschemtrails, @karina-v20, @acourtofexiles, @meteora-fc, @l1nd3n, @just-some-random-blogger, @astralissas, @novausstuff, @babyearthquakementality, @slytherin-min99, @buendiabebeta, @littlemadamred, @nislame, @mother-homunculus, @dreamyassasin, @lottalove4evelyn, @mmmunson, @th0tformikasa, @katie-tibo, @comicalivy, @polireader

[shyamanuensis]

toxic!headcanon

I've had this come through as a request a fair number of times now and while I'm not condoning the romanticizing of this kind of behaviour; I though i'd give it a whirl. enjoy. mdni xo

toxic!garreth who feels his mouth run dry when you even mention the name of another boy. at first, you thought it was cute - this little jealousy streak he had; but it soon became very apparent that he's not afraid to remind you that you're his and his alone. the subtle way he painfully digs his fingertips into your hips when he's standing with you when a name he isn't fond of crops up into conversation; or the way his teeth grind as he grits them together, the sound causing your spine to straighten uncomfortably. subtle moves; barely there but that you've come to recognize.

toxic!garreth that isn't above using his connections via school faculty to find out personal information about you for control and manipulation rather than anything else. does he care that you're a virgo now that he's discovered your birthday? hell no - but will he research what the traits and weaknesses of virgo are to get under your skin? oh absolutely. to put the icing on the cake with this, he's also the kind of guy for a backhanded compliment. you're feeling particularly good about how you look? eh, you won't get a compliment; he'll point out how poppy sweeting is looking rather delicious today in front of you instead.

contrary to popular believe with those who know him, toxic!garreth isn't against blackmail to get his way although it's dressed as playful curiosity and persuasiveness. those sweet smirks and that oh so childish laughter he's known for - it might fool everybody else but no longer fools you yet you stupidly fall for it every, single, freaking time.

toxic!ominis who isn't keen on having you visit him at his dorm because its his safe haven and if you're there it means he can't just up and leave when he feels like it. your dorm though - oh that's a totally different story. he's eager to ensure that you're satisfactorily taken care of within the comfort of the curtains on your four-post bed and definitely, do not expect him to be laying beside you when you wake up in the morning after a night of rather rough rendezvous.

creative points for toxic!ominis who's managed to create a tracking spell that highlights on an enchanted map of the castle your location. every step you take he's aware and monitoring. "what were you doing down in the greenhouses last night at 11pm after curfew? meeting someone?" what follows this? guilt trips. guilt trips which have you near begging for his attention and forgiveness although you don't quite know what you've done wrong.

toxic!ominis that knows you can't say no to a pretty gift because they were something you were denied by family and as such; he can buy his way back into your life every single time something goes even slightly askew. you tell him that you need to take a break - there's a tennis bracelet on your bedside table; you have an argument - flowers and a teddy bear waiting on your bed, you two have a disagreement - the latest book in the series that you're reading. you know better than to let ominis buy his way back into your life, but a part of you, enjoys being spoiled.

toxic!sebastian who is clever, cunning and calculating so you barely notice the red flags he presents until it's blindingly obvious and right in front of your face. his charm and charisma though have literally the entire female cohort of students at the castle under a spell - to them he's the epitome of a perfect boyfriend, you though; know better than to fall for him although you do again and again and again.

toxic!sebastian who isn't opposed to marking you to let every other guy know that you belong to someone. at first it was just scattered hickey's and those oh so frustrating pinch marks that he painted as tiny little hearts across your skin - but recently it had become a little more reckless. you were forced to wear your hair down because of how the back of your neck looked painted in bruised bites. buttons done up on your shirt all the way to the double at the top of your collar because of the intimate artwork he'd sprawled across your chest as his personal canvas and those nips he'd paint along the inside of your thighs - forever multiplying.

"i saw the way you couldn't keep your eyes off me all night - even while you were making out with your little boyfriend. imaging it was me instead huh?" toxic!sebastian cornering you at the end of a party just as you think you're in the clear and whispering those words to you, caging you against a wall with a hand on either side of your head; his knee stubborn enough to force its way between your legs, his lips hot against the sensitive skin of your neck as he forces the thought of the two of you into your head. yeah, it was true - you were definitely thinking about him when you shouldn't have been but fuck - with how he's going to push your buttons tonight; you almost feel sorry for your boyfriend.

[housewasp]

Spinning frames!

This is a big post that will include all of the warframes and Hex members spinning as a group and separately. If you want to use these as emotes or whatever, go ahead. You have my blessing as long as you provide credit. At the very end of this post will be a write up about this project and what I'll be working on in the future. Read more to see them frames spin!

Project write up

I started this project because I find things spinning funny. I was going to just make Excalibur spin. Then I did the starters, and then I said, "Just do all the frames and Hex." Now here we are nearly a month later with everyone spinning. Style wise I started staring at Earthbound/Mother sprites. I wanted a reference that was the right size (32x32px) and cute. That fit the bill. The biggest challenge that cropped up had to be learning what details to keep and what needed to be simplified. This came up with the Hex and cyte-09 the most. Detail is great, but at this scale little details can add too much noise. For example, I was trying to decide on two straps or three straps for Arthur. Three straps was correct to the character, but caused this banding that I didn't love. I ended up looking at the in-game Arthur floof to help me. Lo and behold, two straps was the answer. My main lesson from this had to be tracking pixel clusters. I haven't done a lot of pixel art animation. And the animations I have done never had the characters rotating to this degree. Keeping track of the pixel clusters was a big deal. Frames of "off" clusters could throw the spin off. Are all of these sprites perfect? No. Haha. Not at all. I did try my best, but perfection isn't a burden I'll carry. I did go back as I gained experience to make corrections to previous sprites. But for now, these are the final versions.

What am I doing next?

Am I going to make more of these spinning frames? Prime versions? Umbra? Future protoframes (if the DE makes more)? What about the other frames? Short answer? No. Long answer. I might make other spinning frames of my favorite warframes, but I'm not going to promise anything. If I make more I make more, but don't expect more. I guess if I do commissions in the future I might include that as an option. But don't go waltzing in asking for me to spin your bubble gum pink rhino prime. Where do I go from here? I have a few more warframe fan art stuff planned. There's this portrait of Qorvex I'd like to do. But from here you'll probably see more original work in addition to fan art. Oh and maybe some writing too! If you read this, Wow. Thanks? I hope these spinning frames brought you as much joy I had in making them. -HouseWasp

[criswritessometimes]

bluejay

content - reader and schlatt break up

author's note // hi everyone ! i had to remember how to be an art student again since I'm back at school. not really sure what happened with this one, i sat down and looked at my ideas on my docs sheet, put on some mellow music, and wrote the first angst of the blog. enjoy!

he put the last box in your car. you can only look at him as he pushes the box in. there was always a feeling this would happen. you weren’t sure if it was self-sabotage, but some of you always felt this way. it started on twitter when someone matched his michigan hoodie to a hoodie you wore in a recent video. the both of you were so good about covering your track. or you were for the last 2 years. you remember schlatt coming out of his office looking like he saw a ghost. he showed you his twitter feed, and it was so much worse than when he face revealed. you loved schlatt; you really, really did. but he has a tendency to get defensive really, really quickly. 

“we can’t.” he started getting choked up as he continued to scroll through his phone. it felt like everything was falling apart over and over again. your hands go to cover his as you take his phone away and put it in your pocket. his eyes hold a mixture of fear and sadness. schlatt knew what he needed and what he had to do, but he couldn’t. “hey, hey, look at my jay. it’s ok, everything’s gonna be ok.” your voice is gentle as you try and talk him off the ledge. he knew at the moment that it was over.

the next morning, he wasn’t in bed beside you; you don't even remember him coming to bed the night prior. Getting out of bed, you put your hoodie back on from its spot on the floor and make your way to your living room. schaltt is asleep on the couch with jambo sleeping on top of him. you smile to yourself; you didn't know this would be the last time you saw it. walking to the kitchen, you make a pot of coffee, and once it’s ready, you decide to drink it on the patio outside. schlatt wakes up from the sound of the patio door shut, unsure of where he is. his phone had fallen to the floor, dead from all the doomscrolling he had done last night. he didn’t care what people said about him; he grew the muttons for a reason. schlatt only cared what they said about you, and the only way he could protect you from the hate was to break up with you. he knew it was selfish and dumb, but it was the only solution he could think of. schlatt pets Jambo a few times before getting up. he puts jambo on the floor and picks up his phone to charge it in the kitchen. he glances over to the coffee pot and sees you left a mug out for him and kept the pot warm. it breaks his heart again. already trying not to cry, he walks across the room to the patio door. as he opens it, you smile sweetly at him. you were looking out at the backyard, looking for the bluejay that would come by at this time of day. 

“hi dear, did you sleep alright?” you asked, looking over to him and taking a sip of your coffee; the steam was still coming from it. he shuts the door and stands there. “um, not really (y/n).” it’s hard for him to look at you. you search for his eyes, for any insight on what is going on with him right now. “i think we should break up.” he says. you go stiff, your hands threatening to drop the mug. everything in you stills as he looks over at you. “w-why?” is all you can say. “it’s gonna be what’s best for you in the long run.” he murmurs. “i mean, do i get any say in this? a relationship has two people in it jay.” you can feel yourself starting to get angry. “i feel like i need to protect you from the people online, i dont want them to hurt you or do anything stupid to you.” he admits. the wind out of your sails is gone, the world feels still. all you can do is nod and hold back your tears. “alright, if you think that’s the best way forward then alright. we’re done.” you agree. with most of the men in your life, you had to learn that once they’ve decided, it’d be easier to switch the earth with the moon than try to get them to change their minds. tears start to fall as schlatt stands between your chair and the door. he had admitted to you before that he’s no shoulder to cry on, so you sit there silently crying as the both of you look out into the backyard. the bluejay lands on the bird feeder he got you last christmas. 

schlatt left the patio a few minutes later to give you space to work out any emotions you had. you were upset about him breaking up with you; that was a given, but you were more upset that he didn’t try to fight for it. you weren’t going to beg for him to, either. still, on the patio, you call your friend harley and tell her everything, and she tells you her guest room is free while you look for a new place. thank god she still lived two hours away. you thanked her one last time and told her when you were on the way to her place. you look down at your empty mug and then up one last time. you now know this will be the last time you'll see this view of the woods. you walk back into the house, and schlatt is sitting on the couch reading a book you got him last week. the door shuts, and he’s still invested in his book. “so, is this it?” you break the silence in the room, a quiver in your voice. his head turns to you, sitting up slightly, “i really did enjoy our time together. i really, really did.” he says back. you walk towards the kitchen to set your mug; well, it was his before you moved in. you set his mug into the sink and look down into it, seeing the bowls soaking with water from dinner you made together last night before looking back up at him. “it was good while it lasted. i’ll miss it, and you.” you turn to make your way back to the bedroom so you can’t see his reaction; you knew it would break you again.

he shuts your trunk as you are brought back to the current moment. last thursday keeps playing over and over and over in your head. schlatt helped you pack your things up, plates, utensils, towels, clothing, and nick-nacks. he had promised to help pay for your first four months of rent and send a truck out to deliver your desk to your new place. even at the end of things, he still cared very, very much for and about you. you were sure if you would ever feel that again. “thank you for the help with everything, packing wise.” you thanked him; it felt like your relationship was back to meeting each other for the first time. “it felt like the least i could do. everything will be better for us this way. i’m sorry it had to turn out this way.” he apologized again; it felt like the only thing he had done for the last 4 days. “schlatt,” you start shaking your head, “if you start apogizing again i’m gonna start crying and i need to get on the road to harley’s.” you check your watch as you walk up to him and embrace him one final time. he pulls away, holding onto your shoulders. “you kept me on a easy schedule, i knew what i was doing everyday.” he laughs. you chuckle a little. he had admitted that his sleep and work schedules were out of wack when you first started dating. “you’ll get into a new swing of things, make sure not to miss any meals and take care of yourself.” you tell him as you walk to the driver's side and put at the handle sitting into your car. he rolls his eyes jokingly as he watches you get into the car and shut the door, “yes, mom. i will be looking after myself with utmost care.” your car starts, and you push the button to put your window down. schlatt leans his arm against the window, “do you think we’ll ever even see each other again?” he asks. you sit and think for a moment, and your eyes meet his, “hopefully in the next life. good luck with everything jay, i’ll miss you.” you pull your window up before he has a chance to say anything. schlatt straightens his postures as he watches you pull out of his driveway and make a left turn. he watches your car until it goes over the first hill. he turns away from the road and returns to the house he once shared with you.

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, Gore, more to be added.

Chapter Ten

A/N: Hi Wanted to give a warning for this chapter! This entire chapter is sex, not only that I rewrote it like three times for some graphic descriptions of gore. However those parts have not been removed, just slightly toned down as that is just my intended nature with this story. I'm sorry if that makes anyone uncomfortable <3 Otherwise please enjoy.

Having a label on whatever this was between them didn’t bring her any source of joy or excitement. She almost wanted to hit herself, she had been yearning for him to stop tip-toeing around their relationship for weeks and now she dreaded it. “Boyfriend,” She rolled the word around her tongue like a heavy bitter candy, a cough drop found at the bottom of your grandmother's purse. It made her gag.

She was analyzing herself in the mirror, stark naked and exposed. Pulling back on her skin she examined each mark left on her skin. Kirk was… bitey. She wouldn’t mind it under any other circumstance. If he was just normal. Instead it seemed like a testament to the fact that maybe he wanted to hurt her for real, each bruise painted into her skin was deep and purple and ached. He wanted to consume her, eat her. Maybe it was literal? She didn’t really know. “Boyfriend,” She spat the word out this time like she could hurl it far enough away that it no longer branded her. Her fingers prodding at the bite mark around her nipple, down to the matching one on her inner thigh. He had been kind enough to ask, she believed that if she said no he would have respected that. It still didn’t make him a good person.

The murders had come to a halt a while ago, the timeline tracked from the moment she had agreed to devote her time to him under the guise of safety. The phone calls and horrific news articles suddenly felt like a long distant memory. The police were no closer to catching the perp and there was no relief that settled over the town even though it had been weeks since another body was found. A monster still lived among them, and had taken the lives of innocent people, daughters. Girls like her.

She was doing a disservice to the lives of the girls lost by sleeping with that very monster. By holding him at night like he had done no wrong, writhing underneath him in pleasure rather than agonizing pain, by loving him. She turned away from the mirror quickly, the very sight of herself made her stomach churn. Quickly she climbed into her shower, letting the cold water pelt against her skin as punishment for everything she felt. She told herself it was better this way than avoiding him. Sure she was spitting on the memories of the victims, but she was saving the lives of any other potentials…right?

The cold water did nothing to relieve her of her sins. When she stepped back into her room the feeling of being watched settled over her again, but she knew the source now. She realised now where it had been coming from all along. Kirk didn’t hide it anymore, he wanted her to know now. She turned to her open window, peering into Kirk’s room only to find him staring back at her with a lazy grin. She wished she could say she forced the smile onto her face, but it came too easily, too gently. Shaking her head she wagged her finger at him playfully before pulling the curtains closed to get dressed.

She took a moment to herself before she prepared herself to walk into the lion's den. For once her room felt safe, closed off, when this was a sanctuary she thrived in before everything went wrong. She heard the thwacking of her dog's tail against the bed and smiled. She wasn't supposed to let her up but she had always been soft. “Hey Mavey Baby.” She murmured as she ran her hands through the thick golden fur of the animal, soothing herself. “If I ever don’t come home one day you can take my bed.” She smiled softly and kissed the top of the dog's head, earning a cute confused head tilt, floppy ears bouncing.

Getting dressed happened slowly, prolonging each moment she had in the safety of her own home, with her parents downstairs who would do anything to protect her from danger. If only they knew how willingly she was throwing herself into the jaws of death every single day. Her mom hadn’t been pleased to say the least when she told her she was dating Kirk and for once her fears were founded, even if she didn’t know. Her dad was…indifferent. Both of them inevitably warmed up to him, if there was one thing about him it was that he was incredibly charming.

She dipped her head around the corner of the kitchen after she had crawled down the stairs. She smiled at her parents. “Hey, I’m heading out now.” She told them softly. “See you guys on Sunday, yeah?” Everytime she told them that she could only hope she kept that promise. It's not like Kirk had made any effort to show her he wanted her dead, but why else had he done what he had done? It felt like a ticking time bomb.

“Yeah, be safe sweetie, we're next door if you need anything.” Her mom hummed without looking up from her book, some god awful erotica posing as a low brow romance novel. The wet sound of her licking her thumb before turning the page sent a shiver up Y/N’s spine. Her dad nodded silently. Slowly Y/N pulled herself away from the kitchen, slipping into her shoes and out the front door. She let herself into Kirk's house in a ritual that had become normal. Greeting his mom kindly before taking the stairs up to his room two at a time. His mom was too sweet, she wondered how it would break her to know what her son did.

Of course Kirk had heard her steps coming up the stairs and was opening his door before she even had her hand on the doorknob. His fingers encircled her wrist and tugged her forward against his chest. She hated the way his warmth still made her shiver. How perfectly her body slotted in against his. “Hey, took you long enough.” He mumbled into the top of her hair. “Thought you were deciding to dip out on me,”

Y/N curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, twisting the material tight. “Sorry I was a bit shaken up, I had some pervert watching me get changed through my window.” She bit at him playfully as she tilted her head up to look at him. Her tone was joking but she wasn’t wrong. As she watched his grin crack over his face she wondered if he had any inkling that she knew about him. His laugh surrounded her, sweet and soft. In this moment he looked so innocent like he had never done anything wrong in his life. That hurt. She wondered if in a different universe things were fine, and she could love Kirk without guilt.

“Sorry,” He mumbled sweetly, one of his hands coming to cup her cheek, his long fingers gently calloused against her skin. “You’re just so beautiful and it's such a good view from my window. Can you blame me?” He hummed and leaned down to press their lips together. Soft and plush against her own and she melted against him instinctually. “I have the prettiest girlfriend in the world.” He breathed against her as he pulled back.

He would be such a good boyfriend. It almost made her want to scream, shake him senseless and berate him for ruining it all, running any chance they had to be normal, ruining himself. She never let herself get too lost wrapped up in him, reminding herself she was doing this out of necessity not want. But that wasn't true at all was it. She was an awful rotten person, decaying from the inside out because instead of going to the police she was sleeping with him. Letting bloodied hands caress her, cradle her, because she was selfish and had never felt so loved. Never felt so scared.

“You’re obligated to say that.” She rolled her eyes and pried herself from his arms to throw herself down at his desk chair, the wheels rolling back slightly. “It would be messed up if you said another girl was prettier than me.” She smiled at him as she drew her legs up to her chest and spun herself around in the chair. Slowly coming to a halt facing him once more.

An amused smile played on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm not,” He laughed. “I could be a total dick and tell you some other girl was hotter.” He shrugged as he loomed over. His shadow blocked all light from view, leaving only him. Only ever him. “But I really believe that you’re the prettiest woman to have ever walked this earth.” Dark soft eyes flicked across her with an unmistakable hunger. “Do you need me to show you that?”

No, no, don’t touch me, don't make me complicit in your sin. “Yes,” She breathed out as she stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing him back until he was falling against the bed with a soft breath. A chuckle leaving him at her eagerness. Gentle hands rested on her hips as she crawled on top of him. Too gentle, a tenderness that would be forgotten the moment her clothes were off. There was a desperate filth that coated her skin because despite it all she wanted this.

The pads of his fingers dug into her flesh as he slid his hands beneath her shirt, pushing it up over her body. She lifted her arms complicity as he removed the fabric from her. “I love you, y’know.” He sighed appreciatively, and for a moment she thought maybe she saw guilt in his eyes. She believed him, he loved her in some twisted fucked up way. His thumb traced over some of the marks he had left on her, some would scar, that was intended by him. She would always be reminded she was permanently marked by him.

“I love you too.” She mumbled as her fingers dropped to the button of his jeans, working it open with too much eagerness for a girl lying to herself that she was with him to survive. He tapped her hip to get her to flip over. She did so complicitly, the soft fabric of his sheets hitting her skin as he stood up beside his bed, shucking his jeans off unceremoniously before he was tugging off her shorts. His knee knocked her legs apart further as he crawled over her on the bed, caging her in. He could do it now, when she was laid bare at her most vulnerable, slip the cold metal into her skin and cut through her like warm butter.

Would he gut her sloppily like he did the others, or would he afford her something more beautiful? Keeping the knife steady as it peeled back the skin and fat from her navel up to her sternum. Pin it back like a specimen for dissection. Would he crack open her ribs, or would he work his hand beneath the bone delicately to wrap his fingers around her still beating heart and tug it free. “You’re so wet.” He mumbled against her neck, briefly breaking her from her stupor. She hadn’t even registered his fingers pressing against her through the thin cotton of her panties. God she was fucked up, she was getting off on this.

She lifted her hips up so he could pull the offending fabric down her thighs. The cool air in his room eased the heat between her legs ever so slightly. Did he fuck those girls too? Lure them in to make them feel safe and warm, give them one last moment of pleasure before he watched the life leave their eyes? She hoped not. She was different, she was special. He wouldn’t make love to them like he did her. She let out a shaky gasp as his fingers pressed deep inside her, rubbing along her walls until he pushed against the spot that had her arching her back, fingers curling tightly against his sheets. “Oh g-god, right there.” She whined. There was no god here, why did she call for him?

It was hard and fast, he fucked his fingers into her like he did his cock. It didn’t hurt as he curled them, his free hand coming to press down just below her navel. The added pressure had her eyes glazing over. Her mouth parted in a string of hot breathy moans as she watched him. The way his tongue darted out across his lips like he was looking at a meal to eat. “Yeah, right there?” He breathed out. Kirk rested his head on her propped up knee as he worked her over, his gaze affectionate, a smile playing on his lips like he wasn't knuckles deep within her. “C’mon I can feel how close you are,” He hummed. “Come just once on my fingers, then I’ll give you what you want.” He cooed at her, his voice so soft and sweet.

Y/N didn’t trust her voice, not with the way he punched shaky desperate moans from her lips with each thrust. She nodded dumbly as she clenched down around him. Her knuckles went white with the tight grip she had on the sheets. “Oh fuck, fuck” She gasped as she felt the tight white hot coiling in her stomach. It was too much and not enough all the same. She tossed her head back like a woman possessed as she cried out his name desperately, thighs trembling and snapping shut around his hand as she came around his fingers. Her body went limp against the mattress and she twitched slightly with the aftershock.

“Good girl, fuck you’re so good for me.” Kirk hummed the praise as he pressed his warm lips to her sweat soaked skin. His fingers pulled from her hole with a wet squelch that left her recoiling at the sound. He seemed indifferent to just how gross it was. “Look at me,” He asked gently. Her heavy eyes landed on him just in time to watch him push his fingers between his lips. The sight knocked the breath from her lungs as his tongue lapped at the slick coating his hand, his eyes closing as he moaned in delight. When he was seemingly satisfied with her taste and the cleanliness of his fingers he swiped his spit across her stomach. She shivered as the air cooled it instantly against her skin.

The bed creaked slightly as he shifted his weight, pressing one hand above her head on the bed to hold himself steady as he reached into his underwear. He fished his dick out, gripping it tight between his lean pretty fingers. The tip was swollen and already leaking. He guided himself, rubbing against her clit and letting out a soft moan. Kirk was so loud and sensitive, it was unfortunately cute, she loved how vocal he was. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as he rocked between her folds, mixing their fluids together and making a mess between her thighs. “A-ah fuck, I could come just like this.” He whined into the crook of her neck as his cock repeatedly bumping against her clit.

She was inclined to agree. It felt good, the pressure just enough to encourage that building feeling in her stomach again. As much as she would enjoy that, the sick part of her wanted him to be inside her already. With a small shake of her head she tilted her hips up slightly, catching the head against her entrance with the needy rocking motions he was making. “N-no, wanna be filled.” Y/N spoke desperately. She was absolutely basking in the soft persistent noises he was making in her ear.

Kirk nodded. “God, you’re so good to me,” He praised her, kissing along her skin, lapping his tongue against where her neck and jaw met. He could feel her pulse beneath the flesh and he moaned again. Slowly he pushed up against her, sinking inside the tight wet heat until his balls were tucked snugly against her ass. Her legs trembled where they locked around his hips, keeping him flush with her body. “Baby,” He whined, broken and desperate. “I love you, fuck I love you.” He chanted hot against her skin.

When he was inside her was when she felt most conflicted. Their bodies interlocked perfectly together. The stretch of his girth had her feeling pleasantly full and when he pulled his hips back and pressed forward again he dragged along her walls in a way that had her breathless and wanting. Yet she knew she could never un-fuck him, she would always be tainted. She will always remember that he had been inside her. When the police eventually caught him she would live with the constant reminder she had willingly let him fill her. Would she be dead by then so she didn’t have to live with the guilt. Would the police ever even know it was him.

Snapped from her stupor once more she let out a high pitched cry, her heels digging into his back as he set a slow but hard pace. His lips against her collarbone as he whimpered words of admiration and praise. “Kirk, s’good, so good.” She moaned. Her nails dug into the smooth skin of his back as he pushed her deeper into the bed. It creaked and shifted with every move and she had half a mind to be embarrassed about how loud they were when his mom was still in the house. “Harder,” She pleaded in contradiction to her worries.

He obeyed eagerly. The jut of his hip bones was harsh against the soft flesh of her ass as he gripped her thigh in one hand, pressing her leg up towards her chest and pressing his cock into her deeper, harder and faster. “So fucking desperate.” He groaned, tilting his head to nip at her calf where he slung her leg over his shoulder. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, he was relentless in his movements, punching the breath from her lungs with each sharp thrust. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna take it all right? My pretty girl.” He gasped out.

Y/N preened at his words, the affection dripping from his voice made her forget everything just for a moment. “Mhm,” She mewled. Her hands scrambled to grasp at his face, relishing in the soft skin beneath her hands. He looked innocent and beautiful at that moment. Angelic with his big round dark eyes, his perfect lips parted as he moaned. For a brief second this was pure. Her thumb swiped across the dark mole that kissed his cheek. “I want it all, give it to me.” She nodded softly as she forced eye contact between them.

It was too much, too intense. Kirk's eyes widened and his mouth opened further with a strangled noise. His hips stuttering before stilling completely buried inside her. She could feel each pulse as he finished inside her. Warmth spilled around his cock still plugging her, leaking from her messy hole and down her ass onto the sheets. His expression was soft and filled with awe as he stared down at her, his release washing over him in waves. His arms shook as he held himself over her body. Finally he let his weight press her into the bed. Resting his body against her as his chest heaved with each shallow shaky breath. “Oh my god,” He mumbled into her neck.

She wanted to coo at him. He was always reduced to such a soft whiny mess. Her hands rubbed along his back as he kissed her neck softly. “I love you,” She whispered and she believed herself, she hated that. She was terrified of him even in this moment as she held him close, held close the very thing that would be her undoing. Yet she pulled him closer. Whined as his cock softened and slipped from her, following another sticky wave of his cum spreading between her thighs. She entangled their legs tighter.

“I love you too,” Kirk hummed against the underside of her jaw before shifting his body up the bed, his lean arms wrapping around her and tugging her against his chest. His fingers carding through her hair and gently untangling it as he went. “Please never leave me,” He whispered in a desperate plea. It surprised her and made her want to laugh all the same. Never leave him? Was that even an option on the table, she knew what would happen if she tried. She wouldn’t leave him.

She didn’t have a choice

[my-wl-journey]

Okay, so, hi. I really fucked up. The last 2 months I've been eating, and eating, and eating, and gained 5 kgs back. So I'll have to lose the same 5 kgs AGAIN. I'm so disappointed in myself. I have to force myself to lose weight again.

I don't even know what to say lol I'm deeply ashamed of myself for these past weeks. Haven't been on tumblr, didn't watch the thinspo. But now I have to get back on track. Because I will not be fat for another christmas. I'm 26, I'm so done being fat for all those years.

[spotaus]

Eyy, King Reaper and his beloved Mage Geno designs <3