#I hate sleep sometimes since I could sleep my whole life away

[tothepointofinsanity]

[When you fall into an exhaustive state of sleep, the world around your bed disappears completely. I was strung out of that peaceful abyss purely because my roommate spoke my birth name. I woke up so fast that I think a piece of myself is still in that dissolving world, somewhere.]

[pricesprincess]

from this ask | 1.4k wc | smut mdni | incest | dark content | breeding | daddy kink (you say dad as well) | milestone event

"mom!" your stomps could shake the entire house from anger as you came down the stairs, your face twisted in annoyance from the bathroom sink being covered in wiry dark brown beard hair, again.

it was the third time this week you've voiced your distaste loud enough that john, your stepdad could hear you but it didn't matter. it was obvious he loved getting under your skin and riling you up.

your mom leaned against the counter dressed in a blouse and slacks with heels that scream businesswoman. ever since the divorce she went through a phase of getting a whole new job and work harder.

her spending time away from home also came with the new job, her time was solely for trips and business dinners and since you were busy with renovating the pool house in the back for your own place you spent a lot of time decorating and getting everything in order.

john also came with the new job, her version was that they met at a coffee place that she frequents but to him, it's the grocery store but wherever they met was where they fell in love you suppose.

"i don't have time for this honey, i have to get to work. breakfast is in the oven, i'll see you later tonight you two." your mom told you with a kiss on the cheek and a hug for john who used only one arm.

clearly, they were having issues and you could tell. john opted to sleep on the couch when she stayed the night here and when she didn't he sometimes would crawl into your bed for some cuddles.

your plush body melded so perfectly to him he had to remind you time and time again how you were made for him, and that's all that ever happened even though you wanted your stepdad, badly.

was it gross? maybe.

but did you care? hell no.

not when he was sad and lonely, the way he held you and nuzzled his face into the softness of your neck as he groped your hips and just holding you close to him, back to chest that way he could enjoy your scent that wafted around him like a morning haze. soft and sweet.

you couldn't even remember the last time it was when you had someone to hold you and to banter back and forth with, which isn't an excuse but you were only a human who craved attention.

the moment the door clicked close you turned to john with a look that could kill, your upper lip curling. "must you do that? you need to shave outside since you're a bear, hairy all over the place." you huffed.

john's grin widened as he placed his coffee cup down bringing your attention to his attire, a loose t-shirt, and sweats where you could see the outline of what he had to offer. "want to shave for me then?"

"i'd rather shave a rat's ass before helping you." you hissed annoyed with the hair you'd have to clean up once more. he chuckled and brushed past you with a wink before heading up the stairs.

your bratty attitude was like red flares as you stomped back upstairs to the guest bedroom making a show of cleaning the hair. "i don't think your mum spanked you enough since you act like this at your grown age." john murmured when he appeared in the doorway.

warmth flushed through your entire body as you felt the flame of desire meltdown to sap that flowed through your veins like honey. "have a baby with her then if you want to discipline someone." you shot back with a fake smile hating the idea of that.

john took that as an invitation and stepped inside the bathroom shutting the door even though there was no need for it, his look was predatory as his eyes drank you in, your pussy almost ate your cotton sleeping shorts and nestled between warm plush thighs.

years of yearning and subtle touches boiled over igniting the room with the heat of desire and need. "i don't have any kids of my own so you're going to be a good girl and help me with that, aren't you?"

your eyes went wide and your jaw went slack as a second heartbeat came to life in your clit, you ached to be touched by him. you couldn't say anything but step forward to crush your lips to his quickly.

they were warm and a bit dry but flavored with coffee which you tasted more when your tongue glided against his as john drew you closer in an embrace that made you feel like jelly as he held you.

his hands went down to your ass, groping and massaging the globes as he rutted against you before he was pushing you against the counter. "gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy." john rasped as his mouth moved to your neck and chest.

while his lips suckled on your pulse point his fingers drifted along the bottom hem of your shirt before he slid his palms under the fabric to pinch and twist your nipples into stiff peaks, tweaking the pleasure that zipped up your spine. "don't tease me dad, i want you so bad."

"no daddy? you're a nasty girl who needs to keep her mouth occupied." without any words you dropped to your knees pawing at the band of his sweats to pull them down freeing his fat cock.

you parted your mouth and leaned forward eager to suckle the tip to hear him hiss and grip the counter as he leaned over you and bullied his dick to the back of your throat making you sputter wetly.

john held your head still and fucked your mouth as you kneeled so prettily for him, his cock throbbed on your tongue that you used to lave every warm and silky inch of skin while you cupped his sack.

there was no thinking about anything else or how this was wrong on many levels you just didn't care, not when john looked at you like you were his own personal pornstar ready to do whatever it is.

your eyes flicked up to him and you smiled with them as you gagged around his cock, your fist jerking off whatever was left that you couldn't suck on as you bobbed up and down giving him your all.

before he busted in your mouth and ruined his load john pulled you off him with a wet pop, and then he helped you up while you shucked your shorts off and hopped up on the counter spreading your legs.

john met your heated gaze as he stood between your thighs, your pussy slick and pretty as it glistened under the light. unable to help himself he thumbed your clit softly and sucked your essence off it.

"fuck me please, dad." you begged, your hands busy squeezing your breasts as you batted your eyelashes at john with a sweet pout.

"you're making it hard not to darlin'." he muttered and fisted the base of his dick to slap the tip of it against you with a chuckle hearing you moan then he afforded you the pleasure by thrusting just the head in.

it was enough to make your eyes go wide as you gripped his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist pulling him forward giving him no chance to go anywhere as he bottomed out.

john growled in your ear feeling your wet heat so tight around his cock. "you're going to be such a pretty momma." he cooed in your ear as he found a slow pace making sure you felt how he throbbed in you.

you felt so full of him.

the bathroom filled with your pants that fogged the mirror as he folded you up more and fucked you deeper, your knees pressed back as he held your thighs obscenely wide open for his viewing pleasure.

he watched as you coated his cock with a creamy white sheen that made him groan deep in his chest, moving one hand he pressed down on your lower tummy savoring your soft squeals.

your orgasm ripped open causing you to cry out and knock over the bottles as you gasped and writhed under him when his thumb joined in to circle your clit making your cunt spasm around john.

it wasn't long before his hips were stuttering and his own climax rose high and crashed over him sending tingles down his spine as he coated your walls with a thick load that he kept you plugged up with.

john held you close to him as you both came down from your highs that cleared your head. "we should probably start crib shopping." he whispered in your ear before he pulled out and kept you plugged.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

modern Jace being a simp and so whipped for his gf <3 their friends are either jealous or disgusted by how cute they are all the time

Request: More soft and in love Jace. He’s the sweetest when he’s in looooove

This was part of a longer story, but I didn't like where it was going and I miss posting so I turned it into a blurb

Warnings: fluff, Jace being in love, green flag!Jace

—

You’ve had many silly crushes in your short life, ranging from fictional men to strangers you saw on the bus, and some older boys at school. You even got into a relationship or two. But you never fell in love. 

Not like this, at least. 

Since you met Jace, love took on a whole new meaning. Now, you understand what the female protagonists felt in your romance books. There’s holy ground beneath you and sparks flying when you kiss. It's hard to sleep when he's not with you. You hate it when he’s crying, and feel a need to pull him in your arms until his sadness goes away. 

Wherever you are, you always find a way to sneak him into the conversation. Sometimes, you worried your friend found you annoying, always talking about your man, but they were actually all jealous. A relationship like you and Jace's was rare these days. 

You were sitting at the campus café with Alysanne as she recounted her date with another rat from Tinder — another disaster. She had the worst luck. 

‘’He said he couldn’t date a girl who had ‘mosquito bites’ for tits. My jaw dropped at his audacity.’’ 

She was taking the remark with a grain of salt, used to men behaving like that, but you were truly shocked.

‘’He actually said that to your face?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and your voice rising in indignation.

The raven haired girl shrugged as she took a sip of her coffee, a weary smile tugging at her lips. ‘’Yeah, can you believe it? As if I asked for his opinion on my body." She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated but not surprised. ‘’It’s unfortunate we can’t see their micro dick through their pants. A lot of them would think twice before criticizing our bodies.’’ 

You nodded in agreement, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Men would definitely be quieter about women’s bodies if their manly bits were on display.”

‘’Dating is discouraging these days,’’ Alysanne said with a tired sigh. ‘’I see you and Jace, and I want that too, you know?’’ 

‘’You’ll find the one, Aly,’’ you promised, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. ‘’But I doubt it’ll be on Tinder. This app a digital catalog of jerks.’’ 

It’s not that you didn’t believe in finding love on dating apps. Your parents met through a dating hotline. But Tinder finds matches around you, as in around campus. And most guys are not looking for serious relationships. They mostly just want to fuck. 

Your friend’s phone beeped with a new notification — another guy she was talking to, you assumed. 

Alysanne quickly read, then turned her screen off. ‘’You might have gotten lucky with your prince, but a lot of them are just plain toads. Even outside dating apps.’’

Speaking of your prince, Jace walked into the café with some friends from Political Science and spotted you with Alysanne. A smile curled on his face, quickly saying ‘see you later’s and parting from his friends. You mirrored his smile when you saw him approaching.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind and kissed your cheek repeatedly. ‘’How is the most beautiful girl on campus?’’ 

He could be the cheesiest person, but you secretly loved it. 

Before you could reply, Alysanne beat you to it. ‘’I’m doing terrific, thanks Jace for asking.’’ 

You laughed, then pulled him down to sit on your lap. A lot of guys would’ve been uncomfortable with the role reversal, but not Jace. He wasn’t one to care about silly stereotypes. Whether it was him sitting on your lap or you on his, he was just happy to be close to you.

You pressed a light kiss on his shoulder, and Alysanne groaned in mock disgust, rolling her eyes as she sipped her coffee. 

—

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[patchworkcuddlebug]

Humanity

[CW: Passive suicidal ideation.]

Being a person feels... heavy. Like I'm always full of something. It didn't have to be gross, but it usually was. Sometimes it was something with an easy word to it, like disdain or cowardice, but usually it was more vague. Some sort of congealed, disgusting mass that's been slowly accumulating for as long as I've been alive, weighing my guts down until I'm too stressed to eat and too tired to sleep.

I don't want to die. Death sounds too painful, and I'm scared of commitment. But, as I looked out into the bay, waiting for the traffic on the toll bridge to advance, I can't help but daydream. If I drove into the river, just by some freak accident out of my control, I... wouldn't do much to fight it. I would just let whatever happens happen as I sit still. Let this heaviness in my chest weigh me down and drown me.

My whole life was like that, really. Just moment after moment of letting things out of my control happen to me. My parents never really let me do much, either because we didn't have money, or they decided it wasn't right. I had to move out young after they died, and that didn't give me much of a choice in where to work and where to rent. I didn't even have a chance to think about what my major would've been.

Being a waitress meant doing what you're told when you're told, which table to go to and what to bring them, and what to clean. The work itself was fine, it's just... everything around it. The same awful people just as trapped here as I am, the same inconsiderate boss that barely pays me enough to buy vegetables, the same disgusting smell of fish and chips, all building up and coagulating little by little.

The only way I could get through an average work day was by shutting my brain off and just letting my body move on its own. The years I've worked there have just been the same fog of meaningless obedience. It's a sort of torture, suppressing your ego all just to become your work, for the sake of people you hate. Just feeling full and heavy and gross.

That's how I survived most of my life. Ever since I started school, I learned quick that you keep your head down and go with the flow. Don't be too loud, too big, too anything. Just look pretty and do what you're told without thinking too hard about what you're doing. Try not to feel too much.

Of course dying isn't that big of a deal. I don't feel like I was ever truly alive, ever something that could really be called a person.

Oh, I'm home.

God it's so cold out. It's like the wind is trying to bite me through my coat. I really wish our heating worked, but I've given up trying to fight for it a long time ago.

I can hear the music from here. I swear to fucking god if she's throwing another party I'm going to scream. She can't keep doing this, she really can't.

I fumble with my keys because it's too cold in the hallway, and I struggle with the lock because it hasn't been replaced in over a decade. This is the right key, and I keep trying to turn it, but it won't unlock and my fingers are starting to hurt.

Today needs to end. Please. I just need to stop, after everything, I just need things to stop and let me be still for a single fucking-

Finally.

I leave the door open for as little time as I can. I don't even take my coat off before I march into the living room. She's there, on the couch with more friends than I've ever met. They're all smiling, talking with each other, and having fun. They're smoking weed inside.

I need to stop looking at the one sitting on the arm of the couch, she's not important right now.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" I raise my voice to be heard over the music and drunken ramblings. "I told you that you can't keep doing this, I'M the one who gets in shit for this with the landlord!"

She looked around her, gauging her guests' reactions. She forces a timid smile. "Hey, you don't have to make a big deal out of this, alright? Nothing's gonna happen if nobody tells on us, so just relax." She turns away from me, back to the others. To the woman on the arm of the couch. My roommate falls into this sort of drunken fawning, trying to excuse my behaviour, but that woman on the arm of the couch doesn't join in with them exaggeratedly rolling their eyes or shooing me away.

"I'm not the bad guy here! You're the one who keeps...!" I wince, bringing a hand over my eyes as I recoil into the door frame. It's so loud. "Fuck it, I can't do this with you, I'm going to bed." I turn and leave and slam my door and lock it. She turns the music back up. I'm ordering food and going to sleep.

After I stop crying.

. . . . .

"Do you like your life, darling?"

I'm floating. I'm naked. I can't tell where I am. I don't think I'm anywhere.

"...No."

The woman from earlier. I couldn't stop thinking about her all night. The way she looked, how she carried herself, it was just stuck in my brain.

She's so... big. She's towering over me. I'm like a toy, barely up to her shins.

This isn't a dream. She's there. I can feel her in front of me, almost more real than being awake. I've never been more lucid before.

"Such a poor thing..." She looks so sad. For me?

She's kneeling. "Let me take all that hurt away. I've always wanted nothing more than to help someone like you live the life they deserve." I should be scared. I shouldn't trust her. "I already know you'd make such a good doll~"

I look down at my body. It's fluctuating, moving in and out as I look at myself. My torso is flat and wooden like a marionette, but with each breath in it expands with cloth instead of skin. I can feel the seems of my stitches, the plastic of my joints, the clattering of my porcelain, all at once. It feels... welcome.

She's reaching for me. I know I should flinch, I should be scared of her crushing me as she wraps her hands around me like a doll, but I can't even remember what such a distrust would feel like. She's pulling me to eye level.

Why does her touch feel so... nice?

I feel a breach, like I've just come up for air. I can feel my soul hack and sputter, and finally begin to breathe. I've never felt so light, so emptied. Everything disgusting inside of myself was drained away. Have I been drowning all this time?

"Meet me whenever you're ready, darling." I know where she means. I see her manor, grand and sprawling, but tucked away just out of sight. I can see it so perfectly. "I'll be waiting for you there."

Her hands start to loosen, and I start to fall, further and further away from Miss.

I inhale sharply, way too deeply, as I wake up. It feels like I'm gasping for air. My whole body... hurts is the wrong word, there's a heavy rawness pulsating through me. It's not the heaviness normally in my chest. I'm in a puddle of sweat. I can feel my heartbeat behind my eyes.

My phone says it's 4:37 am. I don't care. I need to see her.

. . . . .

It's a blur. I'm on autopilot, too wired to think. This doesn't feel like before, this isn't the fog. This is pure intention.

I find myself in my car, driving to her. I know where to go, I know. I need to get there. I can't afford to waste any time.

I leave my car parked on a dirt road and wander into the forest just as the sun starts to rise. I didn't bother grabbing anything I didn't need to get here, and I left what i did grab in the car anyway. I didn't even take the keys out of the ignition. Whatever happens, I'm not coming back.

It's a few minutes of walking from the road to her manor. I have plenty of time to reconsider. It's not too late to go back. I'm afraid, of course. My self-preservation is trying to restrain me by my neck. But every time I think about giving into that fear, that complacency stopping me from stepping into the unknown, the idea of returning to what was... I keep walking. I couldn't explain why. Too much momentum, too heavy to bother stopping.

I'm here. Oh god, this is really happening. I lean against the house on an outstretched arm as I stare at the front door. It's thick and wooden, like something from a fairy tale. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and raise a fist. She opens the door before I can knock.

This is really happening.

"Oh, I'm so happy you came, darling!" She quickly reaches an arm around me and ushers me through the door. "And so quick, too! I knew I made the right choice."

She sits me down on the couch and disappears just a room away. Before I can even admire the decor, she returns with two glasses, and a jug of iced tea. She sits down beside me, pours herself a glass, and sets the jug out of my reach.

She takes a swig of her drink, leaning back and swirling it in her cup. She stretches her arm across the back of the couch. I could cuddle up to her so easily, and I've never before felt this tempted to do that with someone. "Tell me what you know about dolls."

I feel something I've never felt before. Just a little, just enough.

"U-uh..." I try to gather everything I can. I don't know why I'm so caught off guard by the question, I came here for a reason. But saying it out loud, actually articulating these feelings, is something totally foreign.

"A doll is like a person, but... not." I take a deep breath. I feel like I'm standing in front of a stadium of thousands. "Witches use their magic to turn people into dolls so they can have servants. And... there are rules to being a doll, like how you have to call yourself an object, and do everything you're told."

I look at her for approval. She's waiting for me to continue. "Am I gonna be a doll?"

The witch almost... melts. She has such a kind, compassionate smile. She sets her drink down and turns her body to face me as much as she can. "Do you want to be a doll, darling?"

"I... I mean, I, uh..." I have never felt more like prey. Why is my face so warm? I'd do anything for her.

She reaches out and takes my hands, that I was holding up to my chest defensively. I leave them limp, just letting her grab them. I feel my shoulders start to lower just a little bit. She's so warm.

"Dolls are empty spaces shaped like people." She teaches me. "Dolls are objects that are obedient and docile. There's a special feeling they have called stillness, where your thoughts go away and you just feel happy." She starts to smile, a tender eagerness. "Can you feel it now?"

I feel it. I feel it. I feel it, I feel it. The stillness. She's making me still. It's gone. I don't feel heavy. I'm empty in such a wonderful way. I feel like I could float through the breeze for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. Like I could do anything, and I would be happy. Is this what life was supposed to feel like? All this time?

"It's a big decision, darling." Her voice is so... magical. It's calming, it's exciting, it's everything to me. "This can only happen if you want it to. Think about your old life, everything you'll leave behind. This is your last chance."

I think about being a human. I think about everything that comes with being a human, the things I'll lose. My autonomy, my identity, things I was never granted in the first place. The privilege of destroying my self just a little every day, all to save myself the trouble of feeling. More than anything, that disgusting heavy feeling, the filth so deeply compacted inside me I thought it was inherent to being.

"Y... y-yes... yes, I want to be a doll!" I'm smiling so wide. Crying hasn't felt this good in a long, long time.

The witch smiles back at me. She pulls me into her, hugging me so tenderly. She's soft, and warm, and so many things.

"You're going to become such a good doll."

Good doll. I can finally feel good.

[milliesfishes]

Enchanted𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: nudity, talk of male anatomy pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. (thank you lovey for letting me write for this!) I have a mermaid special interest and it's been a delight. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sea was a home in and of itself, but it was lonely all the same.

Sitting on the rocks and looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water, Billy pondered this thought, but came to no conclusion from it. The crew of the ship was docked here for the night, on a regular supply run. It was also a chance for the men to stretch their legs, flirt with local women, blow off steam; gear up for the next bit on the ship.

It had been a long night of drinking and roughhousing, and truly, Billy was exhausted by it all. The usual distractions hadn’t sufficed, and now he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the thoughts he’d previously stuffed into the recesses of his mind.

Piracy was far from his first choice in lifestyle, but he’d had little choice in the matter. Growing up by the sea meant he’d taken to the work easily, and he got along with the crew well enough, but his inner voice irked him. It wasn’t honest work, he knew. And sometimes when he was tying a knot or leaning over the railing, he saw his life stretched out before him if he continued on this path. An endless path of mopping, sailing, robbing. He hated how it played out before his eyes. 

Shaking his head slightly, Billy began to strip his clothes off, deciding maybe a night swim would clear his head and get it back to normal. It was never good when he got too deep into thought- it only made things worse for a future version of himself. 

Summertime made the water warmer than it would have been otherwise, and he left all his clothes on the rock, sliding down into the water. The slight chill sent his thoughts scattering back into the dark from whence they came, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. A little while in the ocean and they ought to stay where he wanted them for a good while, maybe even until the next time the crew came to port.

Since it was dark, he floated on his back, unashamed of his nude state. He was definitely far enough away from the village that nobody would be able to see him without coming real close. Relishing in the quiet of it, he breathed the salt air and closed his eyes briefly.

While some found the sea terrifying due to the unknown of it all, Billy was comforted by the mystery. His mother had told him young that the water was like a woman; an untamable enigma. One could only fully appreciate it if they leaned into the secrecy. Regarding both women and the sea, the message had served him well.

There was a sudden splash behind him, and he shifted so he was treading water. It was probably just a fish, but he’d learned quickly in his days as a sailor to keep his guard up at the first hint of danger.

Turning in a full circle, Billy saw nothing. Just the moonlit water. The waves lapped gently at his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. A human wouldn’t have been able to hide this easily. An animal would have swum far from him by now.

He moved a little closer to the rocks just in case, keeping an eye on the horizon. Putting one hand on the rough surface of the boulder that held his clothes, he peered at the water below. Nothing, as expected. It was stupid to think he’d be able to see even a foot under.

Another splash. Billy jolted, whipping his head around. He was getting suspicious. “Anyone near?” he called, squinting as if that would make the visage of darkness clearer.

There was the sound of a body in water. A human body. Reaching up for his pistol on the rock, he half-shouted, “I know you’re there! I can hear ya.” Billy stretched his arm. The gun was just out of reach. “Come about!”

Just as he was convinced he’d made the whole thing up, there was a movement in the shadow of the rock a little ways from him, maybe ten feet. Something was hiding.

Intrigued, he stopped trying to grab his pistol. A feeling told him his unknown companion wasn’t a threat. Billy cocked his head, focusing on the spot. “I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Slowly, the creature revealed itself from the shadows. The pale light of the moon revealed more than he thought it would. He saw it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a woman. And a stunning one at that.

You were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Beauty so rare it felt otherworldly. Long, wet hair sticking to your breasts, and he could tell they were bare under that. Your shoulders were uncovered, except by spiderwebs of hair.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. There was a magnetic quality to you that he couldn’t shy away from, that he wouldn’t if he had a choice. You blinked at him owlishly, innocently. “Are you a human?”

Oh, your voice. Lilting and light and only comparable to music. He regained his bearings, realizing the odd question. “‘Course. Were ya expectin’ the kraken?”

You tilted your head, gliding closer to him. He felt his heart palpitate as he got a better view. Now he could see the water clinging to your skin and eyelashes, your goosebumps from the night air. It felt like he was being studied, but somehow he didn’t mind. With anyone else it would have been bothersome. With you…he was happy to have caught your attention.

Reaching out, you took one of his hands in your smooth ones and examined it, turning it over once. You traced a finger over the veins, the bones. It was as if you’d never seen one before. Your touch set him on fire.

He realized the oddity of the situation. “What…what’re ya doin’?”

“It’s just the same as mine,” you held out one of your hands for comparison, flexing the fingers.

“I’d imagine it is.” His mind was half and half. One part grounded, the other transfixed by you, hanging onto your every move. 

Shifting closer to him, your eyes wandered over his chest, his face, his hair, as if you were looking for something. Billy swallowed. “Is…is everything okay?”

“You’re just like the men we’ve got,” you said distractedly, not answering his question. 

“How different are the fellas where you come from?” Billy asked, a thousand unasked questions on his tongue. 

“Not much, apparently,” you said as your eyes roved over him. “Except-” your gaze fell below the water, and he got the distinct impression that you were looking between his legs. Suddenly remembering he was nude, Billy reached a hand down to cover himself, cheeks flushing even though it was dark. 

“I…uh…” he stuttered, then remembered the water was pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to see him. He removed his hand, shifting a little closer to you now. “What’re ya doin’ out here so late?”

“I like night swimming,” you explained, not providing a reason for your state of undress. Billy wasn’t in any place to judge, since he was in the same way, but it was just so rare for women to be so unashamedly naked like this. Not the women he’d met anyways; you were clearly something different. Something special. 

Still peering down into the water, you were squinting a bit. Again, he felt like you were looking at a bit of him he didn’t normally show just anyone. “It’s dark…maybe if I got a closer look-” You made like you were going to dive down, and Billy quickly caught you by the shoulders.

“Ah…let’s not get so close, dontcha think?” he smiled boyishly, slightly distracted by how silky your hair was even though it was wet. 

You seemed to understand. “Maybe another time.” As he was holding your shoulders, Billy sunk a little deeper, and you perked up. “Here, let me help you.” Gently, you pushed him against the rock, just holding him there. He was surprised by your strength. Not that women couldn’t be that way, but he was a fully grown man. Yet another strange thing to categorize. But the more unconventional you were, the more of a desire he felt to know you.

“Do ya…do ya come here often?” he asked, trying to learn something about the strange woman by the rocks. 

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” you smiled, and his heart stuttered. “My father doesn’t like it when I stray too far.”

“Especially when you’re meetin’ strange men after dark I’ll bet,” Billy grinned, and you laughed, pretty and clear.

“I don’t imagine he’d like that very much, no,” you sighed. “Especially since you’re…you know…” you nodded at his body.

He nodded back, his grin still evident. “Ah, yeah. Ain’t imaginin’ he’d be too pleased if he knew I wasn’t wearin’ anythin’ either.”

You frowned confusedly. “It’d probably be more about you being human.”

Now he was lost. “Now…why’d that be an issue? You’re…”

There was a beat of silence. You drew back a little, fidgeting with your fingers. Lips rounding in an oh shape, you swam back further, shyly. Leaning back a little and biting your lip nervously, you lifted your tail out of the water. A long, shimmery fish tail.

Billy’s eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly your fascination with his anatomy made sense. He moved closer curiously, but you drew back, looking slightly frightened.

Recognizing it, he stayed where he was, instead outstretching a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just…surprised is all.” Some of the men on the crew had spoken of dangerous women with tails who sang sailors to their deaths and made them mad with lust, and he hadn’t known whether to believe them. But here you were in front of him…harmless, shy and inquisitive.

Reemphasizing his hand, he gave you a smile. “I just ain’t never seen any merfolk before, not in person. But I ain’t gonna do nothin’ bad.”

Looking from his face to his hand, you cautiously moved closer. Billy nodded encouragingly, trying to coax you over. An idea struck him. “I’ll letcha look at my…” he looked down between his legs. “...sometime.”

Your eyes lit up at that. Cautiously, you reached your hand over to his, your soft meeting his rough. He brought you closer, so your stomachs were a breath’s width from touching. 

Now that he had you here he was even more enchanted. He knew why he’d been so drawn to you; no doubt it was a part of your mermish characteristics. But there was something else here, something sparkling. Your eyes were like the sea, tumultuous and secretive, and he liked that.

Lean into it.

Billy dipped his head and caught your lips in a brief kiss. You tasted like salt, which only made him thirsty for more. When he pulled back, he saw your eyes were wide like the full moon behind him. “What was that?”

He smiled. “A kiss.” Reaching up, he thumbed the side of your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You searched his eyes. “We don’t do that where I come from.”

“Ah,” he watched your expression. “Did you like it?”

Adorably, your brow furrowed slightly in thought. Then you slowly nodded, lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “Yes.”

Billy hummed, his fingers finding the spot under your chin. “Do ya…wanna do it again?”

A slow smile came to your face, and you nodded again, tilting your head up and waiting, looking expectantly at him. He chuckled slightly, the hand that had been holding yours sliding around your waist and pulling you into him. Now he could feel the line where your skin ended and your tail began. Soft and sleek, all of you was.

“Close your eyes,” he said warmly, and you obeyed, your chin still lifted. Smiling at the sight of you, waiting to be kissed, he committed the image to memory. Your eyelashes were touching your skin, causing a pearl of water to fall from one of them, looking like a tear. Skin glowing from the light of the moon, hair wet and curling over your torso, you were a vision.

Then he leaned down and moved his lips against yours again, feeling like every star in the sky had decided to smile upon him that night.

Maybe he’d imagined he could be captivated by a mermaid, but he never dreamed he’d be kissing one.

Billy felt your hands slide up his chest, seemingly testing the waters. He smiled against your lips, nuzzling his nose on your cheek. His hand lifted to slide into your hair, holding the back of your head and pushing your mouth onto his.

You seemed unsure what to do with your hands as they were settled on his shoulders. Billy sensed it and took his other hand off your waist, fingers grasping your hand and dragging it into his hair. It seemed that instinct took over, and your fingers combed through his curls, eliciting a quiet groan from him. 

Pressing your chest into his, you folded your arms around his neck, your hand remaining in his hair. The action lifted your body further up, and he lowered his hand to where your bottom would be if you had legs, making you shiver against him.

Pulling back slightly, he ended the kiss with a few gentle pecks, slowly easing you out of it.

Your smile when he opened his eyes was radiant. Billy traced his hand up your bare back, stringing through your salt strewn locks.

“Why do humans do that?” you asked in a hazy way, smiling sweetly up at him. 

He returned it, feeling happy in a carefree, foolish way. “To…show other people ya…ya like ‘em. Cause it feels nice.” He stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did it feel nice for ya?” That part was asked in a whisper.

Your eyes were soft, slightly stormy in the best way. “I liked it.”

Billy smiled and leaned in for another kiss, but you lifted your head suddenly, as if you’d heard something. He frowned. “Are you-?”

“I have to go,” you said hurriedly, fixing your eyes back on his. Carefully, you pressed your lips to his for a slow kiss goodbye, and he felt like he was floating.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his arms and the last thing he saw was the glimmer of your tail on the horizon. 

Billy didn’t move for a moment, dazed by you. He took in a breath, laughing slightly in disbelief.

A mermaid. He’d kissed a mermaid. And it had been like fireworks.

Next part

[angelmichelangelo]

Any thoughts/opinions on TMNT 2007, either in comparison to other iterations or about the characters/relationships in general?

oh boy have i got some thoughts on TMNT 2007 !

straight off the bat i’d say it feels so set apart from all of the other ninja turtles movies we had/have at that point. they’re a little older (i can’t remember the canon ages but wasn’t it pretty much fanon for a long time that they were at least early 20s?) and starts their story off kinda at their end.

2007 was also supposedly a continuation of the 1990s movies. whether you want that to be solid canon or not (personally i don’t) but either way, they’re kind of in “retirement” stage of their lives with everything with shredder already happened and this is kind of just the aftermath of that.

the relationships in this movie !!!!! oh my GOD it’s just near to absolute perfection. i usually don’t always super love the classic raph/leo tension just because sometimes it feels a little overdone and can really take away the shine from other aspects of the movie, but i really do like how different it feels here.

raph is so obviously not coping with having so much of his family dynamics changed. and i think that’s why the whole aspect of the movie being set after all of their biggest most heroic adventures works well, because in a way, this movie just highlights how much their lifestyle has impacted them. imo raph struggles with having leo so far from home. he’s going through a little bit of separation anxiety, can’t regulate his emotions properly and lashes out bad.

leo obviously takes this all the wrong ways. he’s going through something too so he’s blind-sighted to the fact that raph isn’t intentionally trying to piss him off. they’re back butting heads maybe because it feels most familiar in a way that hasn’t been since leo left.

b-team in this movie is just. chefs kiss. so much to unpack here, too.

donnie who is finally being highlighted for how much he does for his family behind the scenes, normally quietly bumbling along, now here he is, trying to keep a sense of normality and feeling under appreciated!! which rightly so!! he kind of just gets this shit load of responsibility thrusted onto him when leo leaves and raph distances himself. he’s treading water in the deep end, barely afloat but rarely does he really lash out because he wants to do good, and keep peace (mostly for mikey’s sake, I would argue)

and mikey. oh mikey. easily one of my favourite interpretations of mikey in this movie. he’s kind of mellowing out and maturing in a way that i think hits leo with full force when he comes home from south america. all because he’s had to grow up and pick up the pieces left behind in the wake of their family kind of slowly crumbling apart.

they’re all hurting in this movie but mikey’s hurt is so painfully obvious and so masked when he’s putting up with a job he really hates, barely seeing much of either brother he has left because of their schedules and feels cooped up. he trips over himself with just pure glee when he sees that leo is finally home. he’s still that kid at heart, despite everything, that truly believes that his big brother can mend this. it’s a really bittersweet thing to think of him just hoping his life would fall back into place again after it being so out of sorts for so long.

TMNT 2007 isn’t a perfect movie by any means. whilst i adore the way the turtles have been written, is still falls into the trap of making don + mike background characters towards the last half, giving leo + raph the limelight once again, and sometimes leo does act a little out of sorts but i could just pin that down to him having some sort of PTSD, so it remains high in my ranks regardless.

it’s not perfect but it’s still really really good. the animation holds up pretty well. it paved the way for 2012 in regards to CGI turtles. the voice acting is something i don’t see hyped up enough. nolan north as raphael?!!! i feel like as a fandom we definitely sleep on that fact way too hard

the plot is original and fresh and it’s clear that this wasn’t just a cash grab, but a real love letter to the franchise and to the fans:) the people that made this cared for these characters and this world and it shows :)

the fight scenes are really fun and easy to follow. the leo raph rooftop scene is just incredibly done. whoever wrote that.. please always be involved in tmnt wherever you are.. honestly pure fire some of those lines

nobody feels like a caricature of themselves here, which often happens with tmnt when a new universe is introduced, just to establish their character roles. i really love the thought of them in the wake of the fight and after the dust settles and they’re trying to cope with their feelings and problems separately because they don’t know what else to do. they need a million hugs, please, i would love to see more of this that isn’t just the last ronin. show me the turtles in their 30s trying to adjust to their lives changing drastically as they’re getting older and recognising their trauma, finally. i would eat that up!

in anyone hasn’t seen TMNT 2007 (which, i’d assume most of my followers probably has) then i would absolutely recommend it !!

forever mourning the mikey centric sequel we were supposed to get before the studio shut down and forever sending wishes up that there’s someone out there with enough money and a dream to bring it to life in some way shape or form (i’ll take a comic. a mini series. anything lmao)

TMNT 2007 will always have a special place in my heart :)

[agentrouka-blog]

It seems like Dany in book is still having hard time believing that her father was a Mad King who was hated in Westros. When Selmy tried to mention it she stopped him because she didn't like where it was going despite she asked him about it.

That entire scene is so...

(Cut for long quote)

Dany is reading a book of fairytales that she acknowledges are not proper history. (Symbolismmmmm.) But she keeps getting distracted by doubts about herself.

She played at being a queen, yet sometimes she still felt like a scared little girl. Viserys always said what a dolt I was. Was he truly mad? She closed the book. She could still recall Ser Jorah, if she wished. Or send Daario to kill him. Dany fled from the choice, out onto the terrace. She found Rhaegal asleep beside the pool, a green and bronze coil basking in the sun. Drogon was perched up atop the pyramid, in the place where the huge bronze harpy had stood before she had commanded it to be pulled down. He spread his wings and roared when he spied her. There was no sign of Viserion, but when she went to the parapet and scanned the horizon she saw pale wings in the far distance, sweeping above the river. He is hunting. They grow bolder every day. Yet it still made her anxious when they flew too far away. One day one of them may not return, she thought. “Your Grace?” She turned to find Ser Barristan behind her. “What more would you have of me, ser? I spared you, I took you into my service, now give me some peace.” “Forgive me, Your Grace. It was only … now that you know who I am …” The old man hesitated. “A knight of the Kingsguard is in the king’s presence day and night. For that reason, our vows require us to protect his secrets as we would his life. But your father’s secrets by rights belong to you now, along with his throne, and … I thought perhaps you might have questions for me.” Questions? She had a hundred questions, a thousand, ten thousand. Why couldn’t she think of one? “Was my father truly mad?” she blurted out. Why do I ask that? “Viserys said this talk of madness was a ploy of the Usurper’s …” “Viserys was a child, and the queen sheltered him as much as she could. Your father always had a little madness in him, I now believe. Yet he was charming and generous as well, so his lapses were forgiven. His reign began with such promise … but as the years passed, the lapses grew more frequent, until …” Dany stopped him. “Do I want to hear this now?” Ser Barristan considered a moment. “Perhaps not. Not now.” “Not now,” she agreed. “One day. One day you must tell me all. The good and the bad. There is some good to be said of my father, surely?” “There is, Your Grace. Of him, and those who came before him. Your grandfather Jaehaerys and his brother, their father Aegon, your mother … and Rhaegar. Him most of all.” “I wish I could have known him.” Her voice was wistful. “I wish he could have known you,” the old knight said. “When you are ready, I will tell you all.” Dany kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. That night her handmaids brought her lamb, with a salad of raisins and carrots soaked in wine, and a hot flaky bread dripping with honey. She could eat none of it. Did Rhaegar ever grow so weary? she wondered. Did Aegon, after his conquest? Later, when the time came for sleep, Dany took Irri into bed with her, for the first time since the ship. But even as she shuddered in release and wound her fingers through her handmaid’s thick black hair, she pretended it was Drogo holding her … only somehow his face kept turning into Daario’s. If I want Daario I need only say so. She lay with Irri’s legs entangled in her own. His eyes looked almost purple today … (ASOS, Daenerys VI)

The whole scene is so utterly rife with Red Flags.

Dany has just commited a(nother) massacre, made herself Supreme Leader Until I Move On and banished Jorah for his past spying. She (correctly) surmises that she is overwhelmed and questions her suitability for the job of ruling. She questions her family's sanity.

She wants to avoid what those questions imply. Out on the terrace, she sees Drogon doing his best Replacement Harpy impression (symbolismmmmm) while another one is off hunting boldly (surely nothing bad can come of that behavior in the near future...) and...

A glimpse of hope! A dude with unique personal information about her family appears and offers to share it! Perhaps that uncomfortable feeling can return into focus and be addressed?

Nah.

AND THEN the guy goes "You know what? You're totally right. This isn't really relevant or urgent. Nothing about your family history is alarming enough to question your path in general. Your brother was AWESOME btw."

Barristan, even if he had told her things, would never have helped her come to uncomfortable conclusions because he is the worst kind of hypocritical sycophant for a) any monarch he happens to be serving at the time, and b) House Targaryen in particular. The conversation they are putting off... would not have been useful anyway.

So a placated Dany returns the focus on herself and her feelings, but validated, and her next move is to turn the "this must never happen again" incident with her "not a sex slave" Irri into "actually, time to honorable serve your khaleesi like a sex toy while she fantasizes about other people". People who remind her of her family and their Valyrian looks.

She is burrowing into her Targaryen identity in ways she hadn't even done before, taking liberties with her power that she had shied away from before. Her yelp review will be underwhelming. "Her kisses tasted of duty". Because that's what it was. Dany doesn't care.

She ends up making a choice the next morning.

“My city,” said Dany. “I was looking for a house with a red door, but by night all the doors are black.”

And it is a reasonable choice on the surface, that finally has her standing fast to accept a sense of responsibility for the outcomes of her actions here.

But already we see how the missing context of Westerosi history is distorting her understanding, and Barristan bolstered this. Because she creates a difference where there isn't one.

“Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all I have brought to Slaver’s Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing and plundering, then moving on.” “There is nothing to stay for,” said Brown Ben Plumm. “Your Grace, the slavers brought their doom on themselves,” said Daario Naharis. “You have brought freedom as well,” Missandei pointed out. “Freedom to starve?” asked Dany sharply. “Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?” Am I mad? Do I have the taint? “A dragon,” Ser Barristan said with certainty. “Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.” “But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city?” He had no answer to that. Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. “My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.” “What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo. “Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.”

Dany sees a difference between dragon and harpy that the earlier image of Drogon in the harpy's place already shows us is a false dichotomy. She imagines prosperity and peace in the aftermath of Aegon's invasion where he created no such thing. She is concerned with her sanity and suitability to rule, so she will stay temporarily to test herself on this city of human beings.

The human children must heal and learn. Her dragons need to grow and fly.

Dany needs the same, she says. The same as her dragons, not the same as her children. There will be little healing and learning. But we will see her fly off on Drogon, ecstatic, while the people of her city burn below.

It was never going to end any other way, because "if I look back I am lost" is her curse. She is not interested in the facts, because they hinder her fantasy of the red door. But she will also never get facts because there is no one who would give them to her.

She prefers a book of fairytales over a proper history and she will begin to forget there's a difference.

[owlobservation]

Itoshi Rin Profile from Egoist Bible Vol.2 (2024)

"I'll defeat Itoshi Sae and carve my name into the world. This is my story!"

Team: Bluelock Eleven

Position: Central Forward (CF)

Weapons: Kicking accuracy, technique, tactical vision, physical ability.

Birthdate: September 9th.

Age: 16 (First year high school)

Zodiac sign: Virgo.

Birthplace: Kanagawa Prefecture (Kamakura City)

Family structure: Father, mother, older brother, himself.

Height: 186 cm.

Foot size: 27.5 cm.

Blood type: A.

Dominant foot: Right.

Favorite soccer player: David Beckham. "I respect his kicks."

Age started playing soccer: For as long as I can remember. "I grew up watching my big brother play."

Motto: “The field is a battlefield”, “Tepid” (habit)

Strengths: I can play soccer. “Anything else doesn’t matter.”

Weaknesses: Unfriendly. “If you don’t like it then don’t bother me.”

Favorite food: Ochazuke. “Especially sea bream chazuke.”

Disliked food: Vinegared dish. “I don’t like sour things.”

Best rice accompaniment: Tuna. “Soy sauce and wasabi combo is the winner. No objection.”

Hobbies: Getting the chills from horror games and horror movies.

Favorite season: Autumn. “I like it when it’s a bit chilly.”

Favorite music: King Gnu in general. “Especially Prayer X.”

Favorite movie: Horror movie in general. “Especially The Shining.”

Favorite manga: Dragon Head and Ciguatera.

Character color: Turquoise Blue.

Favorite animal: Owl. “I’m fascinated by them. I think it’s the eyes.”

Best subjects: Physical Education, Art.

Weak subjects: Calligraphy. “I hate having to write exactly as I’m taught.”

What makes you happy: I don’t know.

What makes you sad: When someone is better at soccer than me. “So far it’s only my big brother.”

Last year’s valentine day chocolates: I don’t remember because I rejected and returned all of them.

Sleep time: 7,5 hours.

Where do you wash first in the bath?: The eyes with warm water

What do you like to buy at the convenient store?: Eye masks that warm the eyes.

Mushroom or Bamboo Shoots?: Mushroom.

What made you cry recently?: I don’t cry.

At what age did you stop receiving presents from Santa?: 8 years old. “When my big brother stopped getting them I followed him and stopped getting them too… Truthfully, I still wanted them.”

What did you ask for a Christmas present from Santa?: The same cleats as my big brother.

What would you do on your last day on earth?: Fight my big brother.

What would you do if you received 100 million yen:? Place a bet on a single number in Roulette*.

What do you do on your days off?: Immerse myself in horror games or horror movies.

What would you be doing if you hadn’t discovered soccer?: Can’t imagine. I’d probably be dead?

Who is your favorite historical figure?: Oda Nobunaga. The guy who unified the whole country gotta be crazy.

If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?: A soccer ball. To help me remember all the emotions.

Where would you go if you had a time machine, to the past or the future?: The future. I want to know how this revenge ends. If I win, that's fine, but if I lose, then I’ll do everything in my power to change that future.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rin's attachment to Sae lurks deep in his heart

Ever since he was young, Rin looked up to his older brother Sae and dreamed of becoming the world’s best together. However, when Sae returned from Spain, Rin was coldly pushed away** and he began to hate his older brother for ruining his life.

Rejecting his allies and unleashing "Darkness"

Rin chose to fight Sae by himself, completely refusing teamwork with Blue Lock. Exposing his true nature, he attacked his nemesis, Sae.

A day at Blue Lock, just before the match with U-20 Japan National Team

"When I woke up this morning, my left lower eyelashes had curled up, they got into my eye and it hurt. It happens sometimes, right? Lower eyelashes get all tangled up when you sleep. Eh? Just me? But big brother said it happens to him... Ah, don't remind me of that guy. This is the worst way to wake up."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rin's Ranking on "Best 3 of Everything: Players seriously voted each!"

1. Ranked #1 The Least Likely To Succeed As Coach.

Isagi’s commentary: “I think the team would be in utter chaos.”

2. Ranked #1 The Strongest Supernatural Sense***

Rin’s commentary: "Huh?  I don’t have a supernatural sense. I just like horrors. I was told that I was possessed by 200 vengeful spirits, though."

3. Ranked #1 The Worst Listener

Bachira’s commentary: "He’s the guy who only responds with 'I’ll kill you'. I like it though!"

4. Ranked #1 The Worst Luck

Nagi’s commentary: "Maybe Rin. Seems like he pulled the worst older brother gacha. But if his big brother is Itoshi Sae, I guess he’s lucky too.

5. Ranked #2 Least Loveliest Smile 

6. Ranked #2 The Least Family-oriented Person

Isagi’s commentary: "If you look at those two, you would assume so. But if they really hate each other… It means that they also think about each other."

7. Ranked #2 Longest Eyelashes

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

*In Roulette, betting on a single number is called a "straight up bet". It's the riskiest bet, but if you win the 35:1 payout will be very rewarding. (Highest-risk, Highest-reward).

**They used this to describe what happened to Rin: 冷たく突き放された (Tsumetaku Tsukihanasareta), it means he was coldly pushed away or coldly abandoned (or forsaken). Please check my notes on Sae’s profile page, because there is a connection!

***The question was 「霊感が強いのは?」 -Who has the strongest 'Reikan'? 霊感 Reikan is an ability to sense the supernatural (like spirits, ghosts, demons, etc). People who have this are said to be very sensitive, they can feel or even 'see' the supernatural while others can't!

On his profile, Rin referred to Sae as "兄ちゃん niichan". So yes, all the "big brother" mentioned by Rin here are originally "niichan" in Japanese.

Check Rin's profile from the first volume of Egoist Bible here!

[wrr000]

"Can you be quiet for five minutes?"

AN: hello! i wrote this for fun, it's nothing serious or special, i just needed to do something with myself. hope y'all will enjoy it anyway lol (also, i had that one scene from shrek 2 in mind)

»»————-　♡　————-««

Summary: the night wasn't peaceful for the ghoul because reader talks too much

Warnings: english is not my first language; reader is female; it was supposed to be more of a comedic oneshot; a lot of inner thoughts

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

The night was getting cold. Chilly air mixed with the pleasant warmth emanating from the fire, touching your red cheeks. It was a nice feeling, especially after a whole day of walking in the brutal heat. The sun was killing you and the night was a nice change.

'I fucking hate wasteland', you thought to yourself every day.

Burning sun, disgusting monsters, crazy raiders or even that ghoul, literally everything could kill you any minute. It was hard to survive out there alone ans you knew that. Maybe that was a reason why you didn't ran away from him yet.

"So...", you couldn't stand the silnce anymore, "are you gonna finally untie me?"

You sat by the bonfire with your legs pressed to your chest, staring into the sparkling flames. Hands still tightly tied, of course. The other end of the lasso held the ghoul whom you met a few days ago.

He was sitting on the other side of the fire, leaning against a huge piece of something wooden. He looked like he was sleeping with a cowboy hat covering his face. The ghoul wasn't like anyone you've met before, but you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. He did tied you up after all and have gave you no choice, but to travel with him to God-knows-where. On the positive side - he didn't killed you. And that was something unexpected.

"Hellooo..? Did you hear me, Mr. Ghoul?", you never called him like that before, but you wanted any interaction.

No response. Was he really sleeping or just pretending that he didn't hear you?

It was in his style, to be honest. Ever since you met him, he seemed cold, selfish, like he doesn't care about anything else in the world but him. Sometimes straight up annoying, sometimes kinda funny and nice in a twisted way. These mixed feelings made you somewhat intrigued.

"Listen lady" , he didn't looked at you. "I need some peace and quiet so no stupid questions or talkin', got it?"

"Oh, come on! We have been travelling for days! I'm not gonna do anything stupid", it was this time when he was just annoying as hell.

"I bet you won't, sweetheart", you knew he smirked under that stupid hat.

"So what, are you gonna keep me like this to what? Sell me for chems? Or eat me one day?", you spoke once again. "You know, both options are pretty problematic for you because, I mean, you are really planning to sell skinny, dehydrated girl and hoping for decent payment?", fake scoff escaped your mouth. "Keep dreaming. I am way more useful as a compa-"

By anything stupid you meant something like killing him or running away. First of all, he was very skilled and you knew that attacking him was suicidal mission. Second of all, you could try to escape, but you didn't know if it was even possible with this man and did you really wanted to?

On one hand, there were plenty ways for him to hurt you. Shooting, beating, selling, starving you to death or worse - eating you alive. It was something... common on the wasteland. People were doing everything to survive and as crazy as it sounded, you understood it, the ghoul knew it as well. But on the other hand, after raiders killed your parents, life became harder than before. You hated it and what you hated more was loneliness. You had none, no friend and no family left. Maybe it was delusional, but you hoped for befriending the ghoul and travel with him for a little longer. Or maybe he could help you made it to town where you could stay. In that situation you didn't have many options (it didn't work by force anyway) to consider or anything to lose, to be honest.

"Oh, for fu-", he straightened up, finally looking at you.

You didn't have many opportunities to meet him face to face and take a closer look. Beautiful eyes spoke more than thousand words, that's for sure. The most noticeable thing was the lack of a nose, but aside that the face was handsome. You could imagine how he looked like before the ghoulification. In fact, you always thought that people were exaggerating with their disgust towards non-feral ghouls. They were still humans, right?

"You asked me a milion questions already, while I couldn't ask you one", you heard the irritation in his voice. "You better don't cross the line"

That silence was overhelming. Sure, the sound of camfire was nice, but your thoughts were getting weirder and weirder. You needed something to occupy your mind and because you weren't the best at small talk (or starting a conversation at all) you came up with the stupidest idea.

Classic threating. You rised your tided hands, palms facing him in surrender. It wasn't the right time to ask about the future and you didn't wanna cross the line, at least not that night. He was looking at you for a moment, making sure you wouldn't ask anything else and returned to his previous position.

You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking about and you couldn't read him. Not before, not now and probably not in the near future. He seemed like he could always read your mind while being completely unpredictable to you. What he thought about you? What was his plan? You should be very scared or just scared? Many questions were running in your head, but you couldn't find answer for none.

"What it's like to be a ghoul?", you mentally slapped yourself, but there was no turning back now. "I mean, how did you become a ghoul? It was quick or it was a long process? My parents never told me much about ghouls"

Deep, long sigh escaped his mouth. He looked at you again, not bothering to move his body. Even someone like him lacked words and strength for you.

"Did someone ever told that you talk so much?", a ghost of a smile crept across his face.

"Actually, yes, my father told me that once", you smiled proudly.

"No lesson learned", you quite enjoyed his harsh voice with strange accent. He definitely didn't talk enough. "Can you be quiet for five minutes?"

"Hm, I'm afriad no, Mister", then it striked you. "I don't know your name! I won't shut up until you will told me your name. Wait, you do have a name, right?"

"Yes", you felt annoyed again by his lack of cooperation.

"Well..? You know my name, even you don't use it, may I know yours?"

"Cooper", the ghoul hide his face under the hat again. "Now, let me rest for a while, will ya?"

Bright smile appeared on your face. That was what you called a progress. It was genuinely a cool name and suddenly you started to wonder if he liked yours.

"But...", you heard a growl from under the hat, "we will talk about what to do next? I know how things works out here, but... We don't have to be enemies. I know you want to survive and I don't wanna be your prisoner forever"

You were on thin ice and for the first (and not last) time in your life you couldn't gather your thoughts. You wanted to tell him a lot of things in one go.

"I'm not your enemy, sweetheart, you don't have to worry. Now sleep or I'll have to shoot that pretty face"

You noded quietly. You knew that tomorrow you would try to talk to him again, still hoping for some sort of cooperation or agreement. Your life was on the line, after all. Not to mention that he called you pretty and even another threat couldn't take it away from you. Maybe that was the sign that he doesn't mean no harm to you, there was a hope, at least.

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Battling my head (Dokyeom x reader)

As a migraine girlie, I just want someone to take care of me when I’m going through it, that’s exactly what this is.

Genre: : fluff fluff only fluff

I WANT A dokyeom in my life. Im open to fic requests!

Seventeen fics Masterlist

"Can you spot her?" Dokyeom asks you over the loud music.

You shake your head feeling a little uneasy already. It was a little too loud and you hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

You were at a party with Dokyeom, it was one of your best friend's birthdays and she decided the club would be the best place to celebrate so her single self could get some guys to take home. You chuckled at her idea when she pitched it to you, but of course went along.

She also mentioned you could bring your boyfriend of 2 years, Dokyeom, to the party because her brother is good friends with Dokyeom and he's going to be there too.

You knew your migraine was going to act up, like you could feel it coming, the lack of sleep and the loud music with the strong stench of alcohol everywhere. It makes you want to escape somewhere safe.

Dokyeom saw your face looking uncomfortable. He put his hands on your ears covering it. He just raised his eyebrows as if asking if you're okay. You gave him a tired smile and nod softly. It was too loud to talk.

You were already fatigued. This migraine already drained the energy out of you. You felt guilty to leave even, because it was your best friend's birthday, you have to be here. There is no excuse, you tell yourself and go around looking for her to hand her her gift. Dokyeom following a few steps behind you holding your free hand.

You finally found her, wearing the dress you had picked out a few days ago, a shimmering blue with her hair and nails done with a birthday girl sash over her body. You find the rest of your girl group with their boyfriends too. Dokyeom spots Wonwoo, the brother and they end up chitchatting about something while you talk to your best friend about the boys she met tonight and also had her her gift.

Talking to her was distracting and it momentary helped you forget about the killer headache you were having. She loved the new studded wrist watch you bought her, since her's had recently stopped working. You thought it was the perfect gift. She puts it on right away.

"Let's go dance" she says excited and pulls you to the middle of the club where you could feel the bass of the music in your chest and head. It did not help the situation at all, but you hated the idea of ditching your friend on her birthday, so you just put up with it.

After a while, you're left alone because she's has gone with some random guy dancing so you find your way back to Dokyeom sitting in one of the booths. You couldn't even stand straight without feeling like you were losing balance. It was getting out of hand. You plop yourself next to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder closing your eyes, it only made you more dizzy. The whole room was spinning. You could feel Dokyeom’s hand caressing your cheek while he continues talking to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo soon excuses himself to go find his sister while Dokyeom turns to you.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks you pecking the side of your head.

You nod cuddling closer. He hands you a bottle of water to drink from incase you were just dehydrated and that intensifies the headache.

"I think we should get back, take a shower and lay down in a quiet dark room, get some sleep" he says to you and you nod at that. There was only so much holding out you could do.

Dokyeom found your best friend and told her you were leaving, she was dejected but she understood how bad your migraines could get.

The ride back was horrible with the motion sickness and the car.

When you got home, he helped you get out of your heels and you went in to take a shower.

"It's okay, I'm standing right outside," he reassures and soothes you anxious self.

Sometimes the anxiety around lightheadedness makes you shiver and shake, like you're going to faint and no one is going to be around to help you. These thoughts really skyrocketed your anxiety. You've had multiple instances of dizzy spells and passing out because of migranes, something you've been battling all your life.

Anything could trigger a migraine attack. It was the worst thing.

You just wanted to wash up quickly before you possibly pass out. Dokyeom knew this fear and kept singing in the room to just indicate he’s here without outright telling you. His voice really soothes you.

You wash up as quickly as possible and bolt out. The headache felt a little better now that you were calmer.

Dokyeom had your pjs ready for you and he went in to take a quick shower.

You change and jump into bed as soon as possible.

A few moments later dokyeom joins you smelling like flowers.

You immediately turn to cuddle his torso while he lays next to you with his head propped up on his elbow.

“I’m sorry we had to leave early because of me” you almost felt guilty because he couldn’t enjoy the party.

“No party will come close to this” his hands brush your hair softly. “Don’t be sorry, its not your fault, I like taking care of you”

“It was too loud”

“It really was, or maybe I’m just getting old” he laughs.

You could feel his laugh through his belly.

The lights were low, with only some moonlight coming into the room through the window. His fingers were fidgeting with yours in the dark. The fidgeting turns into a thumb wrestling match and suddenly he’s whispering thumb wrestling commentary.

“Player (y/n) almost had it, but there he is, Legendary Player Lee Dokyeom, coming back from the cages of defeat, and will he strike, will he attack”

It makes you giggle and he finally lets you win.

“Indeed, a winner of my heart, and a winner of thumb wrestling”

You chuckle at his cheesy line. He’d do anything to get a laugh out of you. He loves the sound of your giggles. Almost like he takes pride in making you laugh.

“Sing for me” you cuddled into him further.

“Anything for you, Player (y/n)” he says pecking your head.

He whispers a beautiful song, only for the two of you. The one thing that worked better than medicine for your headache was dokyeom’s voice.

His voice fought all the battles in your head for you.

“I love you”

The last thing you say before you drift into dreamland.

[facioleeknow]

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him. 

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him. 

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

 “What do you mean sir?” 

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?” 

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature? 

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.” 

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.” 

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes. 

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left. 

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice. 

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you. 

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts. 

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.” 

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

[joons]

okay no wait, I'm so curious your thoughts on the elvis mythology! I'm trying to think of an example haha. anyway, thank you for that food for thought. your takes on elvis are so interesting and kind of a different perspective than I normally see

Thank you! That means a lot because I do love going into his psychology and thinking about how he thought about things. And I love being able to engage with Elvis stuff from all different angles!

I can think of a few - like there will be people who were close to him who make such absolute statements about him: he refused to wear blue jeans, he hated eating fish, he loved eating peanut butter/banana/bacon sandwiches, he was afraid of germs, he wouldn't sleep with women who were mothers. But not all of those are true for him 100% of the time, or they seem to be big outliers where no one else has reported anything like that. And as you read more, you can see moments where he behaves differently than these big eccentricities that people pin on him, and you have to think about why that might be. You pick up little clues that you can put together to figure out what he meant. Did he have an almost pathological dislike of blue jeans because they reminded him of his childhood poverty, or did he just tell one of his band members that because he had made a brusque joke about the guy wearing blue jeans in front of a bunch of people and wanted to find a way to apologize without apologizing? Was he covering up behavior he was ashamed of, or was he revealing the real shame that drove him to look his best and make sure his entourage looked their best too? Did he actually have an aversion to women after they had given birth (unlikely, since he had relationships with several mothers), or did he want to give Priscilla a reason for avoiding her that she couldn't work around, knowing that she always went overboard trying to change herself to get his attention and getting rid of things she thought were coming between them (his spiritual books/Larry Geller/etc.)? Was this just one of a long line of excuses he made for not truly being in love with her and not wanting to try anymore? Did he actually eat the same sandwich every day, or did he just make a big deal about it one time because it was Lisa's birthday and he wanted to fly her somewhere special? And the other stuff he did eat every day, did he do it because it was one of the few things in his life he had control over, and could extract comfort from, or did he do it because, as he told Larry, he wanted to make himself sick of it so that it would no longer be a temptation? And how much of these conversations are either hearsay or someone putting words in his mouth to absolve themselves of something that bothered them?

The long and short of it is that people have sometimes reported things he said or did without any surrounding context, or it gets stripped away when it's reported elsewhere, and we are left with these moments that don't make sense or tell us anything about him unless we see how he dealt with them throughout his life, around different people, and see him as a whole person and not the Elvis Image that he tended to embrace when it suited him and resent when it hurt him. A really great moment that I think shows how Elvis tended to approach things is reported by Steve Binder, where he said Parker was telling Elvis absolutely not to do something, and Steve felt like Elvis just kind of shut down and mumbled "yes" until Parker left, and then Elvis' eyes flashed and he turned to Steve and said, "Fuck him," and did what he wanted to do. He was a people pleaser! A huge one! He valued loyalty above honesty. He was willing to lie to people he cared about if he felt that it would avoid a confrontation, and sometimes that tipped into a selfish "I want to do things my way," and sometimes that tipped into a selfless "I want them to have everything I can give them." And he waffled between those extremes because of his own low self-esteem and loneliness. I'm! Screaming! About this! At all times! He is an unreliable narrator, he's such a bubble of emotions that pops with the slightly scratch, he's so complex that you are not sure if he wants the bubble to be an opaque shield or a transparent boundary that you can slip through. He was testing people all the time to know if he could trust them with his heart without expecting him to be the Elvis Image, telling them things that were an invitation and a challenge and an insult and a declaration of love all at once, and so much of the problem we deal with now is that people are still completely uninterested in these depths. I???? Love him??? And the things he can help us learn about ourselves??? Just by trying to see him as he really was????

I don't know, I just get very overwhelmed!!!!

[paranoidomens]

stuck in my brain

trigger/content warning(s): mentions of depression, self-loathing, and hurt/comfort. i think that’s it but if there is more, please let me know

a/n: i am currently listening to stuckinmybrain by chase atlantic and had to put my thoughts into words. this is my first time writing since 2016 and i might be a little rusty. sorry in advance. please feel free to give your criticism in the comments. and lastly, i hope you enjoy :))

you were never good with expressing your emotions to people. it wasn’t something you were proud of either. trying to articulate how you particularly felt in your heart was hard, and quite a waste of time in your opinion. you trained yourself to isolate and keeps things to yourself. you were always dismissed or invalidated by people in your life when it came to your feelings: that is until noah showed up in your life.

noah has always been infatuated with you since the day he saw you. you attended a bad omens show and met him at an after party, and you both hit it off instantly. he has always been intrigued with how you look, the way you carry yourself, and how you speak. although he wonders about what your pretty little head thinks about and how you feel. he’s never the type to force anything out of you, but he does worry about you 24/7 since you guys became a couple. he feels like he’s known you for decades and also knows nothing about you at the same time. he doesn’t know how you feel or what you think about at certain times.

you’ve had a history of depression before you two met, and he knows that. he knows that you have your lower moments, but does he really know how you feel? what you think? why you feel that way? like i said, he never pushes you to talk when you don’t feel like it, however, he’s curious on how he can help you more. sometimes he doesn’t sleep much because he’s overthinking about it. he wants to help you, guide you through your highs and lows of your emotions. but you won’t let him. you can’t let him.

“love, i’m home!” noah shouted. he puts down his keys, looking for you. his eyes roam around the living room, wondering where you could be. walking to your room, he hears faint sniffles coming from your bedroom. oh no.

“love?” noah knocked on the door, opening it and seeing that you’re covered in blankets with the curtains closed. “go away.” you say. but your heart wants him to stay. you’ve always hated how you push people away when you hit a low, especially when it comes to the people you care about.

don’t go. please stay. i need help. you think to yourself.

“y/n, my love, what’s wrong?” noah softly speaks, joining you under the covers and his hands roam to your physique. “i don’t want to tell you. it’s stupid.” you whisper. “nothing is stupid when it comes to you. you know i would never push your boundaries when it comes to talking, but i want to help you. trust me when i say this.” you finally turn and face noah, and he sees your tear-stained cheeks. they’re a rosy pink, and he wonders how long you’ve been like this since he was gone from tour.

“i have been stuck in my brain recently. i don’t know how to get out of this funk. i hate this. i feel terrible for shutting you out when you want to talk to me. every since you’ve been touring, my mind keeps dragging me in a dark and lonely place. i don’t know how to stop thinking this way. i want help, but i don’t know how to ask you. ” you rant to noah, tears streaming from your eyes like an angry and rapid river. you feel vulnerable letting your lover hear about these dark thoughts that he’s never heard from you before.

“y/n… you know you can always talk to me. i want you to come to me whenever you feel too much, when you hurt too much. that’s the whole point of us being in a relationship. we help each other out when we need it.” noah strokes your face, pushing the stray hairs away. “i will never judge you. i hope you know that. especially when it comes down to how you feel. promise me you’ll start coming to me when you’re low.” noah adds.

“pinky promise?” you ask, holding out your pinky and earning a chuckle from your lover. “i pinky promise.” he says. you finish explaining and apologize for holding on to your emotions, which he tells you not to say sorry for that. you continue to work on opening up to noah more frequently. he’ll always be there for you, especially until the end of time.

sorry for the short blurb, but i hope you guys enjoyed! let me know what other types of content you guys would like for me to write! all criticism is greatly appreciated, and don’t forget to write your ideas for me to make so i can get the gist of writing again. thank you!

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[wanderingwriter87]

"I don't suppose you imagined it like this."

Julian looks a little puzzled for a moment, then shrugs. "I don't think I imagined this at all," he confesses. "So I'm not sure I had any expectations one way or the other."

Garak laughs. It's a sad, hoarse little sound.

"I suppose it's a uniquely Cardassian trait, then - fantasizing about the rousing arguments one night have with the object of one's affections."

Julian offers a lopsided smile. "Maybe not entirely. This just isn't the sort of thing I enjoy fighting about. I don't think you do either."

Garak humphs quietly. "What I enjoy is of little consequence, it would seem."

Julian flops over on his back. "Relationships are just like this sometimes. Which, incidentally, is exactly why I never imagined you'd be caught dead in one."

"I can't quite believe you ever saw me as unobtainable."

"Well, believe it."

It cuts too close to a painful topic, and they both fall silent.

"We both want the same thing," Garak says, finally. "As you're always saying."

"Same team," Julian agrees softly.

"And yet."

"And yet?"

"On certain things, we cannot seem to come to a consensus."

"We're from different worlds, Garak. It's understandable that we get into these tiffs sometimes."

"I think I rather preferred it when the stakes were lower."

"You don't mean that."

Garak hears the twinge of pain and hates himself for saying it. "I only meant - when we were friends, it was easier."

"Of course it was easier. We could walk away when things got too intense, and just steer clear of anything too hurtful in the future. But we're building a life together now. We don't always have that option anymore."

"I know."

"And I know the stakes are higher, but it's not... I don't exactly have one foot out the door."

"But there are limits."

"Of course there are limits. I hope you have limits, too."

An uncomfortable silence.

"Garak - this isn't going to work if we're not on even footing."

"I have limits," Garak snaps. And regrets.

It feels endless, inescapable. This cycle of pain, lashing out, and guilt. In his darker moments he thinks his whole relationship with the doctor, from that first moment in the replimat, he's simply been stringing regret to regret with only a few moments of blissful respite in-between.

He has placed Julian on a pedestal - the beautiful, brilliant, compassionate doctor. The one who always forgives him. He is only now beginning to understand that his actions have impact on the seemingly untouchable man, even when they seem to slide right off his elegant back.

It is a difficult thing to learn so late. But Tain, for all his faults, didn't raise a quitter.

"I am sorry," Garak says, very quietly.

Julian's hand flexes beside his. "I know."

"You...are the only person of consequence in my life. If you asked me to go with you, anywhere -"

"I wouldn't -"

"But if you did. I need you to understand, Julian. If you did, I would go."

Julian sighs, arches his head back into the pillow like he's trying to disappear into it. "I'm tired. Please, can we just-"

"You don't believe me."

"Elim, please."

Garak balls his hands into fists until his claws dig into his palms.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

"I know," Julian says, sounding more exhausted than ever.

The chirring of the nighttime insects is the loudest Garak has heard, since the Fire.

"Come here," Julian says, finally.

Garak slides closer, takes his place in the crook of the younger man's arm.

"I love you," Julian says.

Garak swallows. It still takes an effort. "I love you."

In time, as the night wanes, they sleep.

[pistachiofiasco]

terror, touch, dawn

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader Genre: comfort, character-introspective(?) Words: 2657 Warnings: some allusions to canon-type violence; spoilers for Gilbert's route

Also on AO3!

surprise! I'm back with another one folks. this got moulded into so many different shapes before it settled into this. i had wanted it to be more, but i've been so deprived of gil content that i'm feeling a lil uninspired smh

beta read by the ever-wonderful @scummy-writes - thank you for putting up w my ramblings about very specific wording

Gilbert von Obsidian knew fear. He had experienced it so much throughout his life after all.

And yet, as he closed his bedroom door and turned to find a familiar figure curled up in the black sheets of his bed, he wondered if he had ever experienced this.

It was different from the fear he remembered feeling towards the creature that had been considered his father. He remembers the distance, the avoidance, the protection, the childish feeling of needing to stay away from whatever that thing that stalked the palace hallways was. After the turning point – the image flashes unbidden in his mind again, always, always returning: black stone and black skies and heads on pikes and the sheer abject disinterest from those around him – his fear merged with his hate. In the Emperor's last moments, Gilbert realised one of his greatest fears had already become a truth: he was as much a monster as the man whose body fell and disappeared from his sight.

It was different still from the fear which lurked deep in his heart, which echoed with every thump of his cane, which lingered in every footprint he left behind. The fear he had been taught, which had been carved so carefully into the dark marrow of his bones. No one could be trusted. Every interaction would be analysed, every person would be guilty until proven innocent, every action would be a source of suspicion. It became fuel: for every moment of fear Gilbert felt, he paid it back twice-fold. He was the most feared man on the continent now. Every betrayal, every deceit, every knife was returned. This was Obsidian after all, lessons had to be learnt. It had always been this way.

It was different even from the fear he felt about his sickness. In his youth, he had been afraid of spending his entire life locked in his rooms. He longed to breathe fresh air and play in the grass like other children did. He wanted to feel the sun warm his skin as flowers swayed in the wind around him. In his weakest hours as a child, he would stare beyond the curtains of his bedframe, beyond the curtains of his windows, poised like delicate and intricate bars of a prison. Half-awake, his eyes would linger on clouds that floated so far out of reach of anyone or anything. He would wonder what it could possibly be like to be so free. As he grew older, he found Rhoderic and made plans – plans for a new Obsidian, a new order, a new world even – and his fear changed shape. It was no longer about where it would trap him, but when. There was so much work to be done, so many fine lines to tread and needles to thread. So much to dismantle. Every moment had to be worth something, no matter how much pain he was in.

Fear was a normal part of Gilbert von Obsidian's life. Receiving or inflicting, it was so ingrained in him that sometimes it barely registered anymore. It was fear that had brought him this far after all.

This was different. A feeling unique, reserved only for you (so many things in his life were just for you).

It was still quite novel to him, to walk into his bedroom of at least ten years and find you sleeping so soundly. His life had been full of novelty since he had pulled you into it and you had decided to stay. Mostly, he was delighted. Sometimes, the pit that opened up in his stomach threatened to swallow him whole. And very rarely, he would feel like this. Breath caught, chest tight, eyes wide, a pounding echoing from the back of his head throughout his whole body. Terror coursing through every inch of him. And it was from you. You, who wept for everyone's pain but your own. You, who reached your hand out to everyone with no lies in your heart. You, who had accepted his everything as it was, whose only wish for him was to find his happiness again.

You, who loved him.

(He knew this, though it still didn't make any sense to him. He had called your love absurd and mad and baffling more times than he could count. He knew it, and you took every opportunity to show it (soft affections and stern lectures both), though he understood that he still didn't trust it. Trust you. It was a discussion you had had before, a truth that you faced with your usual determination and clarity, even as the weight of it tilted his world view.)

This feeling brought out his worst traits. The easiest solution was always to remove the source. It made his vision blurry and made that old voice sing (kill it kill it kill it). It was the closest he got to panic, he realised, the desire to wrap his hands around your throat and silence you. Like forgetting to control his strength in a fight. Like using full force to throw you like a ragdoll against a wall to protect you from a knife. It only took a moment. It was dangerous. For both of you. Because at the same time, his solace in the dark for so long had been you. Akatsuki's stories, the you he met in Rhodolite, and now the you here now in Obsidian, in his hands. Every time he had felt himself drowning, your hand had reached for him to pull him back to the surface. You would probably never quite grasp just how deeply he relied on you.

It made him ache.

Gilbert knew what you gave up for him. He knew all the concessions you made to him, how much you let him get away with. He had watched you butt heads with people for far less than what he had done to you, watched you not give an inch only to turn to him and give him a mile. He knew his worst habits and the worst he would do if you let him. You didn't, you couldn't, otherwise you would stop being yourself (and there would be no greater betrayal to Gilbert von Obsidian after all). But he was more aware than anyone how much space you gave him and how little he gave back to you.

In one moment – when you had stared into his soul, gentle but unyielding, and asked him what he truly wanted for Obsidian, for the people he worked so hard for – he had wondered what it would have meant for the two of you if he was 'clean'. If he could shed off the layers of grime and blood and filth that made this nation, as if he hadn't been mired and marinated in it since his birth. As if the name Obsidian, a name for fear and pain, wasn't moulded into his features, wasn't the only thing people could see when they looked at him. He felt the need to scrub at his skin and flesh and hair and eyes until there was nothing of Obsidian left and it was just him, just Gilbert, once again. And he could hold you without worrying about the smell of blood sticking to his skin and the image of dirt smearing across your gentle face, and you could smile and hold him like you had no care in the world and maybe you could both just be happy for the rest of your lives.

It was absurd. You had made him into an absurdity incarnate.

There was no coming back from everything the Emperor of Obsidian had done. And Gilbert was not one for regretting the choices he had made and the path that he had carved forward. But just in that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if you wished that of him. The look you had in your eyes sometimes when he returned from his work, when he knew you could see and smell and feel what he had done, made him wonder if you wished he could be better. (You didn't. You didn't wish he was better, you wished he was happier. You had told him that. Had told Gil, who hates liars, that.)

A ridiculous thought flits through his mind, almost making him laugh into the black night of his bedroom, over the pounding of his heart. Chevalier would be able to teach himself to be who you wanted him to be. It wasn't often that he compared himself to the Rhodolite prince this way; comparisons were inevitable considering the similarities they shared. Gilbert himself had always considered them two halves of the same coin – alike but clearly different. Chevalier Michel and Gilbert von Obsidian would never know love, would never know friendship, and would never find a middle ground. They would always be walking in opposite directions (he had believed that to the very end, and yet the stubbornness with which you wrangled him and Chevalier into each other’s company at every opportunity was almost scary. He expected it of himself. But to see Chevalier coerced into it too was beyond his expectations. They had both finally found something they agreed on: you were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted to be.)

But you had fallen in love with him as he was. And you had never denied what he was. Neither of you would have gotten this far if you had tried to ignore it after all. And so perhaps the terror came from the acceptance, the (almost) unconditional devotion. Perhaps for the Emperor of Obsidian, the weight of such feelings was just so unfathomably heavy that he felt it would be the death of him.

How strange, when his death was something Gilbert had never shied away from.

-----

"Gil?"

Your voice in the dark, sudden as a whip and gentle as a summer breeze, startled him. It sent a bolt down his spine again, hot and cold all at once. It made him dizzy how much he wanted to wrap himself in that sound, layer it fiercely around his wounded heart as it ached and throbbed in his chest. He felt like he might cave in on himself at any moment. He felt as fragile as you looked. So at home, unfurling in his black sheets, stretching the drowsiness away in his bed, blinking bright eyes open in his room to find him in the dark (just like you always did).

"Gil." Your voice was rougher than usual with the weight of sleep and small in the blackness of the room at night. You found him still. He could see well enough the way your gaze softened and your lips curved, even with half your face still buried in the pillow (his pillow too, since you seemed to be lying on his side of the bed). Your hand emerged from the covers and stretched out from the safety of the bed to him, inviting. It was cute, the way you wiggled your fingers to encourage him, the way the sleeve of what was definitely one of his shirts was too long and draped over your knuckles. It looked like salvation.

He felt frozen, his muscles locked at the chill that ran up and down his spine. He wondered how much you could actually see as you lifted your head to squint and pout at him. It felt like something in his chest had opened up inside him. Like his heart had been precariously placed on a trap door and this one moment was the trigger. An ache in his ribcage, a weightlessness in his stomach, a chill in his spine. He wanted to close his eyes, to turn the handle of the door and leave and find a less frightening room to spend the night (the infirmary would do). And when you asked in the morning, he could laugh at the idea that you had missed him so much you dreamt of him coming to you in the night.

Gilbert von Obsidian was very used to fear. But it had been a long time since he had run from it.

Forcing past the stiffness in his limbs, he reached for your hand. He was still dressed in his formal attire, not even close to ready for bed. But he didn't have time for that now. The brush of your fingers against his even through his glove didn't shock him like he expected it to. His fingers tingled, almost ached, like his body had been craving your touch whilst his mind was preoccupied. Your fingers slid against his, skin finally meeting skin as you pressed your hand against his. He wondered again just how much you could see of his expression, but perhaps his silence had been a better indicator. You held him gently, reverently almost, even when you were just barely on this side of your dreamscape. You pulled him closer. His knees brushed the bedframe now. His hand, in yours, was turned softly. You brushed your lips across his knuckles and the warmth rushed through him again. It felt like something had taken an axe to the inside of his chest, the way it seemed ready to crack open. His hand was pressed against your cheek as you laid a proper kiss on the flesh of his palm. It made his lungs stutter.

He felt raw. Exposed and vulnerable. And when you looked at him, he couldn't decide between reclaiming control and giving in to you. He had been working so hard on trusting you more. He truly had. He had given you more space, tried to let you explore and expand your horizons as you wished. He had even come to you once when he was feeling unwell (you had dropped everything and devoted all your time and attention to him, just like he had hoped. And it had made him feel so hilariously shy, of all things. He felt like a child again. You had lay with him and watched him and kissed his forehead and thanked him. He had wanted to crawl into the warm safety of your heart and never leave it.)

He watched you sit up, still holding his hand to your cheek. In the midst of his ruminating, you had removed his gloves. He let you lift yourself up onto your knees, bringing your face in line with his. Let you hold his cheeks in your hands, sighing at the ache rushing through him again. He let you stare at what you could see of his face and when you reached behind his head to gently maneuver his eye-patch off, he let you do that too. You pulled him close, your fingers played with his hair and your heads leaned together and your hands held his face and he let you. Your breaths mingled as your lips pressed against his cheek, against the corner of his lips. He stayed still.

When you finally brought your lips to his, with all the softness and gentleness of your night, he remembered what it felt like to break. He felt like he had fallen from a height and splattered against the cobblestones of the castle gates; like he had been beaten with a club, so bruised and battered that not a muscle in his body would move; he felt like there were no bones left to break in his body when you held him like this. You terrified him, in all the ways he had come to crave. When you held him like this, tension flooded in and out of him at the same time. His lungs emptied in a rush but he breathed easier than he ever had. The chill that accompanied him all his life seeped away, replaced by your warmth. One numbness went away as another eased in.

You held him like he meant more than anything to you. You felt like daybreak.

it took weeks to decide just the last one of this (that's not an exaggeration, you can ask scummy)

also there are two easter eggs in here -> a frieren one - hint: the ost is amazing -> an epic the musical one - hint: i'm obsessed w ayron alexander as antinous

if you find them, more love and affection unto you friend!