#GO AMERICAN MAN DESCRIBE THE KISS MAKE IT HARSH THEY DESERVE IT

[lawrencewilderanswers]

I feel his lips press to mine and I shake under his grip, fingers crawling up my shirt with intentions I can’t define. His teeth grab my bottom lip with the desire to hurt, and everything feels shaky. Any words I attempt to say are muffled.

Ooc continuation of the continuation of the continuation

@lawrencewilderanswers

We go where we want as long as we come back home. She was the one to set it up. She truly is something, founds a way to make it less of a nightmare for both of us.

[flowerslut]

BREAKING DAWN Part 1 & Part 2

an updated, more modern take on the original soundtrack.

(TWILIGHT) (NEW MOON) (ECLIPSE)

spotify link — BD pt1 spotify link — BD pt2

[track list and commentary under the cut]

Part One

 Endtapes — The Joy Formidable  ➼ ➼ ➼ I Will Be Waiting — Let’s Eat Grandma

This soundtrack starts off so strongly that I had no choice but to pick one that can kick it off just as well. Let’s Eat Grandma might be my favorite band I’ve found this year. Their genre-bending is exquisite.

Love Will Take You — Angus & Julia Stone  ➼ ➼ ➼ Need Ur Luv (Japanese Wallpaper Remix) — Charli XCX

Talk to me a year ago and tell me I was going to be putting Charli on a Twilight soundtrack recreation and I would’ve stared blankly and asked “fucking how?” Well, with this incredible Japanese Wallpaper remix, that’s how.

It Will Rain — Bruno Mars ➼ ➼ ➼ In My Blood — Shawn Mendes 

And how do you replace baby Bruno? Well, only with today’s romantic power-balad singing baby, Shawn Mendes. It’s a perfect replacement, if you ask me.

Turning Page — Sleeping at Last  ➼ ➼ ➼ For Now - Reimagined — Kina Grannis

Any other 2009-era Kina Grannis stans? Message From Your Heart? All those YouTube covers? No, just me? Whatever. Kina belonged on those soundtracks back then, and this is setting things right.

From Now On — The Features  ➼ ➼ ➼ Cliffs Edge — Hayley Kiyoko

One of Hayley’s older songs, so it’s not too new, but I felt that is matched From Now On’s mood fantastically.

A Thousand Years — Christina Perri  ➼ ➼ ➼  human — Christina Perri

No, this isn’t cheating. But only Christina Perri can truly replace Christina Perri. It’s also a perfect pre-change Bella song. I’m sure you heard this song everywhere at the end of the saga when everyone took to YouTube to make their cathartic recap videos. 2012-13 was a great (but weird) year to be a Twilight stan.

Neighbors — Theophilus London ➼ ➼ ➼ FACE — BROCKHAMPTON

Whether you like BROCKHAMPTON or not means little to me. They were absolutely ending up on one of these soundtracks. And as replacement to Neighbors, it’s like they belong. “Tell me what you’re waiting for? I just want to love you.” Ouch. Harsh Jacob vibes.

I Didn’t Mean It — The Belle Brigade ➼ ➼ ➼ All out of Tears — Z Berg

Z Berg created a song that sounded like it was made for one of these soundtracks. It’s insane. And one of my fucking favorites.

Sister Rosetta — Noisettes  ➼ ➼ ➼ Digital Witness — St. Vincent

The Twilight soundtracks (and also Sufjan Stevens himself) are responsible for introducing me to St. Vincent. Now, years later, she’s consistently been one of my favorite artists. She has the range, y’all.

Northern Lights — Cider Sky  ➼ ➼ ➼ Pool — Paramore

Of course I was putting Paramore back on one of these lists, you crazies. (And this isn’t the last you’ll see of them, either.) 

Flightless Bird, American Mouth (Wedding Version) — Iron & Wine ➼ ➼ ➼ New America Classic — Vitamin String Quartet

There isn’t a wedding version of New American classic, but there is a Vitamin String Quartet version! (And no offense Iron & Wine, but it sounds so much more like an actual wedding song.) Any OG Twilight stans know that in this house, we love and cherish the Vitamin String Quartet. They were like our musical savior back in the day. Couldn’t find a decent quality soundtrack upload? No worries. Odds are, they’d already recorded an insane strings cover already.

Requiem on — Imperial Mammoth  ➼ ➼ ➼ Waste — Oh Wonder

I unashamedly adore this song by Oh Wonder. Their dual vocals always put me in a damn trance. It’s so beautiful to describe. Just listen.

Cold — Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz ➼ ➼ ➼ Willow (feat. Robert Pattinson) — Tindersticks

Told you I’d stick him back on the soundtracks eventually. This song is so hauntingly perfect. When I first heard it it reminded me why I was so in love with Robert back in the day. That voice, man. Talent leapt!

Lloverá — Mía Maestro  ➼ ➼ ➼ Silence II — Son Lux

It’s not as beautiful as the Carmen actress’ ballad, but it’s just as haunting.

Love Death Birth — Carter Burwell  ➼ ➼ ➼ Sæglópur — Sigur Rós

When I went through my Sigur Rós phase way back when (pre-Twilight) Sæglópur was my favorite song for ages. It takes you through the whole spectrum of emotion, just as Carter Burwell’s music does. I thought it was an ideal way to end this first half.

You still get bonus tracks! Here’s two for the first movie:

Otherside — Perfume Genius

Simple. Powerful. Emotional. All you need at this point in the saga.

Everything In Its Right Place — Radiohead 

A song that feels like waking up from a dream. Perfect for Bella’s dramatic change. (And of course I had to actually add Radiohead to one of these.)

Part Two

Where I Come From — Passion Pit  ➼ ➼ ➼ Manchester — Kishi Bashi

Bella deserves to see the world for the first time with vampire eyes while Kishi Bashi magically transforms the scene in the background. It’s *chef’s kiss* literal perfection. 

Bittersweet — Ellie Goulding  ➼ ➼ ➼ Warrior — AURORA

Can I go off topic for half a second and tell you guys that I cried when I saw AURORA featured on the new Frozen song? No one deserves that wide recognition as much as she does. And no one does mystical pop better than AURORA (not even Ellie Goulding).

The Forgotten — Green Day ➼ ➼ ➼ Warm Winds (feat. Isaiah Rashad) — SZA

SZA deserves this spot and don’t even question why. SZA’s first album was so iconically emo. She’s another artist I’m convinced would’ve been reached out to for a track if she’d been making music just a little bit earlier.

Fire In The Water — Feist ➼ ➼ ➼ Carry Me Out — Mitski

Even though I’ve been a Feist fan since I got my first vocal comparison to her pre-Twilight (so I was ecstatic when she was featured here) I think Mitski really encapsulates everything a Twilight soundtrack needs.

Everything and Nothing — The Boom Circuits ➼ ➼ ➼ Highspeeds — Elliot Moss

I can’t not give Elliot Moss a spot. And that's it.

The Antidote — St. Vincent  ➼ ➼ ➼ Unholy Trinity — Von Grey

I needed a harder song for this replacement and Von Grey’s music does the trick. This is the band of an old Tumblr friend that goes fucking hard, y’all. She and her sisters know how to bang out the tunes.

Speak Up — POP ETC  ➼ ➼ ➼ Reasons Not To Die (Demo) — Ryn Weaver

This girl just knows how to fucking get me. Her second and final appearance on the soundtrack, here to just make you want to laugh and cry all at once. And as a replacement to another top favorite, it works well.

Heart of Stone — Iko  ➼ ➼ ➼ Smother — Daughter

Heart of Stone actually made my end of year top tracks playlist for 2018. I knew I needed a solid replacement. And you can never go wrong with a Daughter track.

Cover Your Tracks — A Boy and His Kite  ➼ ➼ ➼ In The Mourning — Paramore

We bid farewell to Paramore with their final appearance here. In The Mourning is another long-time favorite. It’s beautiful. And sad! We love it.

Ghosts — James Vincent McMorrow  ➼ ➼ ➼ Weight — Crywolf

You need that late Breaking Dawn depressing shit? I got you that late Breaking Dawn depressing shit. “Bless me with just one kiss before you leave me here with my heart.”

All I've Ever Needed — Paul McDonald & Nikki Reed ➼ ➼ ➼ Beetroot (What If I Was 1?) — Blue Americans

I can’t describe how double-sad I get when I remember that Paul McDonald & Nikki Reed divorced not long after the saga wrapped. (Not that I ever had an attachment to him, but this song is so nice!) So that’s why Beetroot is a little sadder than All I’ve Ever Needed. Still a great song though.

New for You — Reeve Carney ➼ ➼ ➼ Black Hole — HANA 

Black Hole is a little more pop than New For You. But it’s beautiful and nice and lovely and I am also In Love with HANA. So you get her here.

A Thousand Years (Part 2) — Christina Perri (feat. Steve Kazee) ➼ ➼ ➼ I Get To Love You — Ruelle 

Had had had to put this incredible, romantic, hopeful song at the end of this soundtrack specifically. Just listen and tell me you don’t get emotional over their future with this.

Plus Que Ma Propre Vie (More Than My Own Life) — Carter Burwell ➼ ➼ ➼ Half Life - Instrumental Version — Imogen Heap

How are you supposed to pick a song to end the soundtracks? Thankfully, Imogen Heap had the foresight to release instrumental versions of each song on her Ellipse album. Such a thoughtful queen. We thank her by giving her the final word. 

What’s this? No more? It’s okay. You do get bonus tracks, but not here.

I’ll be posting one more soundtrack, full of all the extras and little gems that I couldn’t quite place in any specific spot on the soundtracks. A whole other playlist full of Twilight-vibey songs for your listening enjoyment! Look out for that next week. Happy New Year!

[ursoself-satisfying]

My Sweet Lord (ch2)

hes a lil young here for when how old hes supposed to  be when this stry takes place but its hard to find a non adorable n giggly gif of him lol 

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire 

Priest!Joe Mazzello x F!Reader, NSFW, ~3.5k words

My Sweet Lord masterlist 

A/N: go listen to holy ghost by modern baseball while u read too cus its rly good,,, anyway this one is a lil dif!!! its a lil bg on the town a lil scene setting n its all about joe now!!! 

special thanks given in this post!! you can find whole accompanying laylists there as well not just single associated songs!!!

Warning(s): sex, religious guilt, some scary images, mentions of ejaculate, uuhhh body horror,,,, i think thats it besides maybe kinda disrespecting ur elders lol ??? 

Father Mazzello had been distracted, to say the least. His newest regular was different, in the simplest terms, and drew his attention in the most tantalizing ways. See, the Oranges was a retiree town in the middle of nowhere, a Bermuda Triangle of the American Midwest. People arrive and they never leave, usually because they die. It was a bit ironic but very fitting to him that the epitome of classic American ideals, though contrasting, collided with ancient human instinct to create this town where the elderly are unequivocally cared for by the young, who remain the bones of the town and keep everything running. You could live and die in the Oranges without ever even leaving them.

The Father had always thought the name was deceiving. “The Oranges” sounded like a small suburb in the wet, hot, muggy parts of Florida, not an old folks zone in middle America. There was some part of him that would always dislike living in a town named “The Oranges”. Maybe it was the priestly side of him, feeling dishonest in their presentation when confronted with their reality, meaning they did not and never have grown oranges there. Maybe it was the sunny signposts standing crookedly beside the worn yellow houses, paint peeling and fences fading, showcasing the poor upkeep of people’s own homes.

He was too harsh, though, because a town, he knew, was not its structures but rather its people, its community. The Oranges had no shortage of smiles, even if they mostly consisted of secondary sets of dentures. That’s what made her smile so different. It was real. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason she stood out, no, it was also her legs, her thighs leading up to her hips, two very real hips, and a waist that would fit so well in his hands and then up a little further where his hands could perfectly cup-

The pencil snapped with a shock and the man blinked at his scribbles, unintelligible now that he’s been broken from his stupor. The lead tip of his pencil rolled in a curved line off his journal then off his desk and he watched it tiredly before glancing at the clock. It was nearly 1 a.m. The clergyman sat back and huffed, taking a moment to assess himself.

His hand had wandered to the crux of his black slacks and he groaned at the hardness beneath the cloth. His groan was unintentional but a needed release as he couldn’t “release” how he really wanted to. His thoughts were clouded with this girl- this girl- He barely knew her name and here he was, fantasizing about her simply because she was the only eligible woman he’d laid his eyes on in nearly a year, or probably more accurately over a year.

‘Why should that even matter to you?’ He asked himself. ‘Why should it matter that she’s eligible? She’s probably not. She probably has a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, even.’ Joe couldn’t help but groan again at the thought of her, pressed against someone else all the ways he wanted her to press against him.

‘Stop it!’ Some voice in the back of his mind hissed. ‘You’re a priest! It doesn’t matter if she’s unavailable! You’re the one who’s unavailable! You took an oath! You made a covenant with the Lord!’ If Joe were a man to curse, this is when he would curse. Instead, he simply moaned in compliance and gave into his conscience, sighing and giving his erection one last squeeze before sliding his hand back up his body, resting it on his open journal. He ripped out the page he’d been working on, the one describing his ‘newest parishioner’ in exquisite detail. No one would ever see that. No one could ever know he experienced such temporal thoughts. He was a priest, after all, he had to set a good example.

He spent the next twenty minutes in a headspace he despised, the one he used to eradicate the want that grew between his legs. It was images of the women in the first row of the church with teeth yellow and denture line visible, their smiles wide and slippery. The men in the back few pews have spots on their balding heads that are sometimes protruding and have hairs only growing there and somehow nowhere else. Joe focused on that, on the lumps and aches they vocalized, on the scratching of their smoke warped voices and the pores like pools on their noses. He thought of the way the hands of the mass shook when they went to place money in the collection basket, the yellow of their nails and the chipped polish on the manicured claws. Their skin was saggy and discolored and their hair is matted and fake and he thinks about what they must look like under their musty Sunday clothes-

He’s soft again, his pants no longer straining and he breathes a sigh of relief, maybe a quiet thanks to God. The priest does his best not to let his mind wander as he lets his feet carry him to his bed where he disrobes, definitely not drifting to imagine how her eager hands would feel pulling his trousers down, nails scraping down his thighs- Joe forced himself to turn the mental image of her tight knuckles to one of chapped and wrinkled ones to keep himself calm. As much as he dislikes subjecting himself to these thoughts, he tells himself he does it for the Lord. The Lord will keep him strong in these times of weakness, he tells himself, in these hours of temptation. He slid into his bed in briefs and an undershirt, letting the softness of his sheets smooth over his skin as it envelopes him and he’s whisked away into a few hours of much-needed rest and revelation.

Your hands had never been softer. It was the only definable thought in Joe’s head when you pushed up his thin shirt. The fabric bunched up over his stomach and you lowered your head to lick a long, wet stripe up from the happy trail disappearing down his shorts.

You were naked, straddling him, hips and thighs curved and soft and outlined by the moonlight that shone in from the cracks in the curtains behind you. The luminescence bounces off the soft tufts of your hair that bunched when your nose hit the bottom of his shirt and you kissed the middle space of his chest reverently. Joe was so wrapped in this moment that he asked no questions. His mind was muddled with lust and want. If you met his needy gaze, you would physically see the fog you caused in his brain, shown in the glazed over eyes that tracked your every move. It was like looking in the windows of a rocking teenager’s car, all steam, and sex behind them.

Your hips ground unconsciously on his crotch where his arousal was obvious and painful and he couldn't keep in his moan. The contact was too much for his near virginal state to handle. Your body, luscious and young and soft, and so easily defiled. It was so sinful. It caused a fire to burn within his loins, reigniting one that had long been a dormant pile of ashes before you came along. Every sway of your breasts as you rose your body slightly from his was another match stricken and thrown to maintain this burn.

Every clench of your thighs around his waist was kindle to feed it. Your undeniable silhouette was gasoline, your ass weighing on his lap was logs and paper, probably journal pages he’s written and hidden of you, but the way you looked down at him, the way your eyes fluttered and your lashes fell, the way your mouth puckered and curled and glistened, that was the first page of the book to burn. One by one, page by page, you would rid him of his religion, strip him of belief until all that existed was you.

And he was fine with that.

Again, Joe felt the contact of your soft pussy pressing over his aching cock and his hand instinctively reached for your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks while his other five went to squeeze at your thigh. Every desperate touch from him was a message; ‘You’re gorgeous,’ ‘please touch me,’ ‘I need you.’ He was practically tracing the letters into your leg as his hand slid down to your knee then back up to your waist. He was still laying down while you were straddling him and grinding against him, occasionally letting your hands wander, pushing up his shirt and licking the skin you could reach without stretching. You had leaned forward to suck at his neck and the holy man about died and ascended to heaven when he felt your tits on his chest and your lips on his neck simultaneously. Your nipples were hard, enough so he felt them drag over his exposed skin when you arched your back and left bruises at his jaw.

Being so focused on your lips, Joe had lost track of your hands. His were on your ass, groping and kneading with silent adoration, but yours had moved from mussing his hair to tugging at his briefs. The man gasped when your hips left his and then, with a swift and sudden motion, his underwear was yanked down and you giggled. Joe, however, did not giggle. The exposure was shocking and the cold was unwelcome, making his cock twitch and sending a shiver up his spine. It was in this moment that Joe finally took in your image, the bite of the cold shaking him from his focus on just how you felt.

All his other senses were hazy and the man of the Lord was overwhelmed. You were glowing. Your hair was feathered and voluptuous. Your skin was velveteen and your body belonged in a temple, deserving of an altar and endless worship. He would have sworn he witnessed a halo form around you as well, a golden line connecting one shoulder to the other in a shining arch. Your smile was soft and distracting, but his gaze persisted down your body full of admiration and curiosity. Your chest was supple and your stomach plush, just like your hips and thighs, all there for him to appreciate.

He sat up to improve his view, allowing himself to be in much closer proximity to you, able now to bask in your scent, sweet and innocent. Then he laid his larger hands on your breasts for the first time. He was almost worried the metal of his rings would surprise you, being cold on your hot skin, but you had no reaction. Kneading with slow gentle movements, he slid his thumb just barely over your nipples, hard and sensitive for him.

Somewhere in the back of his throat, a question was lost, a search for approval that got stuck on its way out, but it didn’t seem to matter as your constant blissful smile was encouraging enough. He didn’t question any of it.

Quiet hums vibrated in your throat and your half-lidded gaze motivated the priest to feel more of your body, squeezing at your waist and ass again and leaning forward to drop unpracticed kisses to the valley of your chest. You laced your fingers in the back of his hair, cradling his skull and holding him to your skin, but when his thumb brushed over your clit, you stopped him. His wrist was caught in your grip in a quick and unexpected move that stopped him from further touching you.

His breath hitched, fearing he’d done something wrong with the way your eyes bore into him, cutting through the silence and bringing him to the reality of what you were doing. Joe felt like he could only inhale, nothing coming out when he tried to push his breath away. He swallowed dryly and your expression softened ever so slightly, dropping his hand to instead wrap your digits around his cock and maneuver it to swipe between your folds. The wetness gathered in your sex and on his tip made for easy entry as you lowered yourself slowly, lashes fluttering and mouth falling open. The man choked on a protest but swallowed it with a moan when his head was sheathed in you, warm and tight and ideal.

Joe couldn't focus on anything. It was all happening so fast for him, a blur of skin and sweat. You bounced on him expertly and he fell limp at your abilities, a sputtering mess as your buoyant tits mesmerized him. Your hot, heavy breaths rained down on him and showered him with increased want, but he was unable to act upon it, struck dumb by a higher force, and that force was the look you gave him, accompanied by a breathy sigh and a smile when you settled fully on his shaft. He hadn’t realized but he had been holding his breath as you rose slid down him again, audibly slick and aroused. At that moment, the world vanished from around him, all fuzz and static, and all he knew was you and the way you felt, sleeved around him perfectly, undulating and flexing with an ever subtle thrust of his, impulsive and quick, needy and natural.

Your speed increased suddenly though, and the priest, barely holding on as it was, couldn’t contain himself. Speaking in tongues of love, he groped at you, searching for an anchor to his physical form as an ethereal feeling washed over him, his orgasm imminent and monumental. It was an out of body experience for the servant of the Lord, greater than any religious bliss he’d yet to experience. He could see himself beneath you, his face contorted as yours glowed with elation and he came inside you. He could feel you pulsing around him and heavenly choirs invaded his ears, the stimulation shrouding him in your presence.

What occurred next was warped and surreal. He was still inside you, coming down but still hard and you were still smiling but the air turned sinister and smelled suddenly not of your scent but of sulfur and lavender. You turned into a shadow over him, no longer a source of light, but rather the opposite; a source of darkness. That’s when your skin began to slip from its place on your skull. Melting like wax, he thought, but his comparison was wrong, so wrong because there were no hot drips hitting his stomach and your hands didn’t begin to pool at his bellybutton. No, instead your soft hands turned to leather and the familiar spots of discoloration and sun exposure began to blossom across your shoulders and chest. He could see your veins, one by one, rise up on your skin on your straining legs. Your breasts sagged and your stomach folded over. Your smile went wider as your lips thinned and eye crinkled, every line on your face growing deeper until he felt the first wisps of your fading white hair fall on his legs. Your nails began to dig into his lower stomach as they grew and then he fell the first few cold objects hit his heated skin. One by one, two by two, teeth, rotted black and yellow, bounced off his chest when you leaned forward.

Joe wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Maybe he was already, he couldn't tell. By now he assumed his vocal chord had been removed sometime in the night because, still, nothing came out. He tried, he forced all the air in his lungs out his tense lips like a coastal storm blowing in. He was the winds and the waves and the crashing sounds of ocean on rock and sand as he struggled to break free from the growing weight of the body still on top of him, still around him; shaking, twisting, tears streaming down his red face. You were death holding him down, boney legged and saggy skinned, every part of you being pulled with more strength every second towards your home in hell. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so they flailed at his sides as yours slid up his body with the same disturbing gummy, black smile looming over him and all he wanted at that moment was for it all to stop and disappear.

The sweat on his forehead rolled down the sides of his face and collided with the tears that were apparently seeping down his cheeks as well. The tears were hot and the sweat was cold and Joe’s entire face felt numb and damp, and it was. His whole body was. His undershirt was soaked through and his neck shiny and dotted with perspiration. He shot up out of bed, sitting upright with wide eyes as he shook as he frantically assessed his surroundings. The desk was still messy, his journal still out, the lamp was off, the window closed and the door locked. Fear still seeped through his bloodstream and ran from his face to his toes. It was electric emotion that coursed through his body, one that he couldn’t shake and that left his hair standing on end. It was deep beneath is skin, a nestled sense of discomfort. No amount of his unconscious physical shakes could rid himself of it.

He rocked back and forth on his bed for a while, the images of his dream never leaving his head, haunting him like some cliche victorian ghost. His tremors subsided but he wouldn’t be going back to sleep that not, not after that. The drastic shift had gouged a wedge in his heart, one that was now filled with questions and doubts, second thoughts. The fire in his loins burned brighter and hotter and blacker, smoke rising from it in dangerous, polluting amounts.

Upon the onset of further physical discomfort in the form of a cold patch on his briefs, he opted to spend the rest of his night in the shower, not only washing the shameful premature ejaculate from his underwear, but also his dream from his body, the dream he could only assume was a punishment for his earlier sinful thoughts. On one hand, he was washing her touch away, her soft, sweet, innocent touch that couldn’t be wrong, but on the other hand, the abomination that she’d been warped into left a film over him that didn’t seem to wash off.

Joe believed in signs and symbols. He believed that God spoke to you in natural ways, every day. The advertisement on the bus next to you at that red light this morning or the constant re-emergence of one specific suggestion throughout your day, seeing the same person everywhere you went, it was a message from God. “There are no such things as accidents or coincidences,” he preaches, “everything here God has preordained. It is predestined and meant to be.” He thought of her, meeting her and her timing. “Trust that this is the Lord’s will.”

This must be a sign. He thought of all the examples of prophetic dreams in the Bible, all the times the Lord has used this outlet to speak to his servants. Joseph, Jacob, Daniel, Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar- But what did it mean this time? The object of his unsanctioned affection decaying on top of his, immediately post-coitus. It scared him, the implications of it, but it also scared him that he had the dream at all, if he was honest. It was intense. Not only was it erotic, but also scarring. What did it mean for him and his faith? Part of him wanted to brush it aside and ignore any allusions his subconscious was trying to get to him. He wanted to, for once, turn to science to deny the religious answers to his issue, telling himself it was just a projection of some kind of worry, but that would mean he would have to admit to himself he was worried about her, around her, because of her. He would have to acknowledge the effect she had on him and he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t give in to this moment of weakness, so instead he scrubbed his soiled underpants at three in the morning and tried to wash the nightmare from his mind with Shout and bar shampoo, ignoring the heavy dread building in his chest as the hours counted down to Sunday morning, when he would face his congregation of elders and one woman he couldn’t ban from his mind if he wanted to.

He fell asleep at approximately 4:30 in the morning, face flat on the side of his tub, one hand caked in dried soap and the other clinging desperately to his still clearly stained boxer briefs. He didn’t dream this time, and for the first time he was ever aware of it, he was grateful he didn’t.

[maryenette-writes]

Let Go [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/N: I know I’m supposed to be doing a lot of stuff but this came out of nowhere....

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Death and broken dreams

Word Count: 1429

TAGS: @anothertypicalgirl00 @pinkwitch21 @coffee-randomness @angstytodd @kpkarlee @aworldwideapart @lovingmytelevision @abbytheninja @ifthisislove-loveiseasy @spacewife @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @femdamian @dc-hoe @wtfisachoncexx @jxsontxdds @yoichooseno @kiogenic @iamthenightiambatman @mockingjay-fury @zhang91yixing @mama-aqua @bandsomatic @theamazingrain @batbros-before-hoes @american-assassin-and-superhero

MASTERLIST 

When you were a little girl, you always imagined what your life would be like in the future. Your curious, naive eyes would see a fair maiden who looked so much like you, with a radiant smile painted on her lips. She lived in a beautiful cottage in the country, away from the starless sky of the city, away from the monotonous sounds invading her ears and away from the monsters that wore sheep’s clothing. Somehow the sun was always bright, there wasn’t a droplet of rain anywhere yet the flowers still grew as if it had been fed all the water in the world.

There would be a man beside her, so handsome and humble one could mistake him for a prince taken out of the pages of the storybook your mother used to read to you every night. He was as vibrant as her, so much so that he seemed to emanate a faint glow. He always stayed by her no matter where she went. You couldn’t have one without the other. Their eyes sparkled with the light of infinite galaxies when they looked at each other. And when they smiled? No words could describe the happiness on their face. It may not be seen at times but it could always be felt.

And they loved each other. Oh how they loved each other dearly. The very symbol of their love would be running in the fields by their cottage as they watched, as happy as could be.

That was what you wanted your future to be. The future of your dreams, something peaceful and perfect in every way. The perfect life.

But life… life wasn’t like that. Life wasn’t perfect.

In fact, life was the very opposite of dreams.

You knew you shouldn’t have had such an ambitious dream because what you dreamed of, life gave you the opposite.

“J-Jason.” you gasped when you saw the blur that you somehow recognized as your boyfriend’s unmistakable face, “Jason, I-I--”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Jason whispered, cradling your body in his arms, “It’s going to be okay.” His words could barely be heard over the harsh drumming of the rain. You shook your head as you broke down crying.

It was a mission gone wrong. You weren’t meant to be there in the first place, you weren’t part of the plan so the plan couldn’t protect you no matter how much you or Jason wanted it to. It was your own damn fault so you simply paid for it, but that didn’t mean you wanted it.

“N-No, it’s not.” you uttered, “I-It hurts Jason, it hurts so much.” Your voice cracked as you tried to sooth the pain on your torso and it broke Jason’s heart entirely.

“Hey, hey [F/N],” Jason had a lump stuck in his throat and tears in his eyes but he refused to let himself cry, “Everything’s going to be alright.” When you continued on weeping, Jason held your face in his hands and said, “[F/N]. [F/N], you have to listen to me. I… I will make sure everything will be alright--” you tried to turn away but he held you in place, “--[F/N], love, I promise you. I swear that it will work out. You’ve got to trust me, okay? Just…” he closed his eyes tightly before opening them again but his voice wavered as he said the next few words, “just trust me.”

Through the pain that burdened you, you managed to nod. You tried to keep your eyes on him but your fear only grew when your vision began darkening and you slowly lost sight of the man you fell in love with. Your breath began to quicken, alarming the man holding you in his arms.

“[F/N]? [F/N], focus on me--”

“I-I can’t.” you confessed in a panicked voice. “Jason, I c-can’t see you anymore, I can’t see--I can’t--” You began to cry again as the reality of it all fell onto your shoulders. You were going to die and there was nothing to do about it. You were going to die in a dirty, infested alleyway as a disgrace.

“T-This isn’t how m-my life was supposed to be.” you sobbed, shaking your head weakly.

“Then… then tell me, tell me what you wanted it to be like.” Jason requested gently, sniffing, trying to do anything to distract you from your pain.

You closed your eyes as you tried to regain that imaginative vision you had as a child. Swimming through your mind, you managed to find a piece of the dream you had. You held it close to your heart and brought it up to the surface and allowed yourself to be lied to one last time.

With a shuddering breath, you began in a voice that could be lost in the wind, “I would be living in a cottage… surrounded by nothing but... green fields and meadows of flowers. I would be free from any expectations and free of life’s restraints.” You gasped for breath.

“[F/N]?”

“By my side,” you struggled to continue, “by my side would be… the love of my life, the man I would have my child with. The same child running through the fields.”

“A-And is that man me?” your boyfriend inquired, trying to lighten up the mood despite this very dark time. It made you laugh, but coming out from your mouth at your state, it was more of a wheeze. Still, through your blood and tears, you smiled.

“Yes.” you said in a hushed voice, “Yes, the love of my life… Jason Peter Todd.” You closed your eyes. “Jason. My Jason.” You heard Jason laugh quietly though it sounded utterly helpless.

“Jason?” you murmured. Your lover hummed in response and softly stroked your hair in the loving manner he always adored doing whenever you two were alone. “I-I’m tired, but I don’t want to leave.”

“[F/N]...”

“I-I’m so scared of leaving you.” you muttered, feeling the tears appear again. “I don’t want to leave you.” The droplets of rain felt cold against your skin but you swore some of them were strangely warm.

“Just let go.” you heard Jason murmur into your ear in a voice that sounded like he was on the verge of tears, “It’s okay to let go. I’ll--” he swallowed that lump in his throat and willed himself to be strong, “I’ll be okay.”

“You can let go.” He forced the words out of his mouth in a slightly unsteady voice. “You can be free.”

Free.

You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting go of whatever hold you had on life. The last thing you felt were shaky lips gently kissing your forehead.

When you opened your eyes again, you were standing in a field greener than any imaginative mind could’ve thought of. The sun generously poured its rays on every object in its domain and in the distance, you spotted a beautiful cottage sitting on the horizon.

The very sight made you smile.

Jason Todd had dreams. He had many and he knew none would be fulfilled. It was the inevitable formula of life’s many fuckeries.

But when he met you? He knew something would go wrong yet he still went for it anyway.

You were… a beauty in his eyes. You might not have been beautiful to others, but to him you were a goddess that he didn’t deserve. Your kindness and selfless heart was a sheer contrast to him and this very cruel, unforgiving Earth you two stood upon. Your smile was was brighter than any star and what he saw in your eyes wasn’t a mere sparkle, it was the entire universe all bundled up into two gorgeous orbs.

He cherished you more than he cherished anything in his pathetic life which really wasn’t much to begin with.

The more he was with you and the more he received your love, the deeper he fell in love with you. He fell in love not just with your personality, but with your little habits and cute faces you made alone. He fell in love with what you saw as flaws but what he saw as just more of you to love.

He used to think that his dream was to spend his entire life with his significant other, but that wasn’t his dream. You were his dream.

But he knew that as long as he kept living, he would never get that dream.

Because as we all would eventually learn, life was the very opposite of dreams.

[philippe-muller]

He sights as his hand goes under Lawrence's shirt, grabbing firmly his skin as he gets closer.

No.

Ooc continuation of the continuation of the continuation

@lawrencewilderanswers

We go where we want as long as we come back home. She was the one to set it up. She truly is something, founds a way to make it less of a nightmare for both of us.