#I realize I don’t owe anon an explanation

[traumasurvivors]

It seems convenient that you’re suddenly autistic when you need it to back up a point

I’m not “suddenly” autistic. I’ve been diagnosed for years. And while I don’t talk about it a lot, I have mentioned it in the past on my BPD blog if you really need receipts that I didn’t just starting saying it to make a point.

I run a stim toy business and have for over two years and part of what we tell people about our business is that we are run by autistics and I’ve definitely shared that on my business blog multiple times.

[pokechbi]

hi love! would you be able to write a request for ghost x psychiatrist!femreader 👀 who works with task force 141 but she spends her sessions with ghost who always ends up fucking her 😈 (highly unprofessional ik but she melts for him )

also i LOVE your work sm, can I be 🧠 anon?🥺

i have risen :3

Got this idea from this lovely anon <33 tysm!!! Much luv to u bb!! Happy to say that I am making this one a continuing story!!! (dw i havent forgotten ab the other ones lol)

Healing Simon (chapter 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

NSFW!! MDNI

Fem reader, fem anatomy used

WC: 1.2K

Enjoy <33

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚

“As for your past, Lieutenant, we’ll be sure to discuss that when you’re ready. If you’re ever ready. Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting to keep it private. Sometimes, there are things we must keep to ourselves no matter what. You don’t owe me, or anyone else an explanation.” You end your sentence calmly, knowing you had the tendency to ramble. Sometimes your clients didn’t need to hear it all at once. It’s how you kept them coming back. How you kept him coming back. 

He looks past your shoulders, out of the window behind you. Your clients had the tendency to do so, since the view from the window was mesmerizing. You folded your legs, gently swinging your leg over the other and feeling the leather of the chair peel away from your thigh. You looked behind you, glancing in the same direction he was looking. The tall trees swayed in the fall wind, moving in unison as if to purposely entrance their observers. You felt weirdly jealous of them at times. They seemed to be more therapeutic to your clients than you were. You keep your eyes on him, hearing his breaths behind his balaclava ever so slightly. Deep, balanced and even. He was stoic in all the right ways, his expression never changing. You look downwards, observing the way his jacket hugs his muscles in all the right places. You take in his broad shoulders and chest, a slight heat simmering at your ears. Your eyes flutter upwards once again, noticing the sliver of skin on his neck peeking out from the gap between his balaclava and his jacket collar. You also notice the slight glint of his dog tag chain shining in the light coming from the window. Looking up at his eyes once again, you almost jump as you realize they’re on you. His stare is heavy, weighing your words back down your throat. 

You smile sweetly, capping your pen and sticking it inside your notebook, setting it on the small end table beside you. 

“Simon, our time is nearly up for today. Went by fast didn’t it?” You ask, trying to stir his attention away from the fact that he just caught you checking him out. You cringe internally, wondering if he’ll bring it up or not. 

“Yeah, it did.” His gruff voice comes out almost a whisper. His accent soft on your ears, his eyes seemingly peeling away at every layer of you each time he looked at you. His eyes flit down to your legs, and back up to your face. You smile at him, your heart doing somersaults in your chest as you fidget with your fingers. He stands suddenly, starting his walk to the door. You stand as well, slowly trailing behind him. The smell of him wafts into your nose. It was intoxicating. Addicting, even. A mix of settled cologne, the familiar scent of his laundry detergent mixing with his musky body odor. The smell of him took you by the throat and forced its way into your subconscious. You craved that smell, the manly, homely smell of him. 

He stops at the door, looking down at you. His height was significantly higher than yours, your head only reaching to his shoulder. You look up at him through your lashes, placing your hand on his back and rubbing ever so slightly. The muscles tense under your touch, but he doesn’t move. Not an inch. Your mind betrays you, the thought of what his skin might feel like under your nails as he split you open races through your head. 

“You did great today, Simon.” You say softly, giving him a reassuring pat on his back. His eyes flit between yours before he starts out of the door again. 

“Same time next week, love?” He asks. He had such a smug way of speaking. Such a smug way of making you weak in the knees without even touching you. And he knew it. You nod at him, smiling sweetly as you shut the door to your office. Placing your back on the door, you run your hands through your hair, hearing his footsteps fade down the hall towards the elevator. 

You walk over to your desk and sit down. The chair creaks under you, the silence of the office driving you insane. Your head raced with thoughts. All about him.

No one in the psychiatry ward had managed to keep consistent appointments with the Lieutenant. He was a hard nut to crack. The hardest you’d ever attempted. You were getting there, slowly but surely. People swarmed you with questions in the office, everywhere you went. 

“What does he talk about?” 

“How come he doesn’t talk with anyone else?”“Does he tell you anything about the missions?” 

“Have you seen his face?” 

“Doesn’t he scare you?” 

“Can you get his number for me?” 

Questions ranged from pure curiosity, to just downright trying to break patient-confidentiality. It pissed you off. They acted as if he were untouchable. Unlovable. All he needed was to be humanized. You couldn’t imagine how tired he was of his reputation around the base. Never being treated as a normal soldier. Not that he was a normal soldier, anyway. He had earned his rep. But you kept that to yourself. 

When his captain showed up in your office, slamming his file on your desk and begging you to make it work, you knew you had to. Price sat across from you, frustrated and scared of losing his best soldier. Not to war, or battle, but to his own mind. Simon had a nasty habit of bottling things up. Letting his thoughts get the best of him and letting them chip away at his sanity until he broke. He holed himself up, letting his trauma dictate who he was not only as a soldier, but as a person.

You hadn’t quite managed to persuade him into unpacking his past just yet. It seemed like an unattainable milestone some days, but others, you came mighty close to it. You spoke to Simon as a friend, not just as his psychiatrist. Each visit, you felt closer and closer to him. To his mind. 

As a professional, you knew it would be wrong to take your relationship outside of the two chairs he came to sit in once a week. You thought about him every time you had a quiet moment to yourself. It was becoming something you couldn’t control. It had gone to stealing glances, to unknowingly checking him out any chance you could get. He’d catch you every time, yet never said anything about it. 

But he kept coming back, right? The thought made your heart leap in your chest. 

[shayshaybiscuit25]

I believe boundaries have to be established between said celeb and their fandom because honestly celebs don’t us a damn thing when it comes to their personal lives, not even regarding who they date or marry, BUT in this particular case since Chris and team attempted to use the fandom to sell whatever this bs is, HE was wrong. As time carried on the fandom began during the most, so there is no innocent party involved in this. No one should have any private info regarding when he purchased or sold a home, nor should anyone be using any bs info they received via anon to taunt the fandom with “marriage” information or claiming they know a BuA is coming.

As far as Chris, due to his MO being one thing and that MO being the very reason so many loved him, it was devastating to realize the possibility that it was all a lie due to his choice in partner. It’s one thing not to like who your fav marries, it’s a complete different story when they marry or associate with racists. THAT is the main issue here. Who the fuck is Chris Evans in real life? Because if this turns out to be real……fuck his and her and all associated with them.

Like I said …..before this mess he didn’t owe anyone a damn thing, but because of this mess he does owe an explanation or he should just rip the damn bandaid off and fully claim your racist ass wife so everyone can finally move on.

Due to him and this crap we had people DEFENDING racism, so yes this is personal because I as a black woman had to log in to see the very same idiots who once claimed it was pr yet are now screaming how this is real, post Justin posts showing the n-word. I told them to cover the word and these mofos refused to and claimed they were “advocating” against racism. 🙄 stupid fucks.

But yeah at this rate, I don’t care. Chris lost me when he claimed he got married so if this isn’t legit, he should have kept her ass as gf and then ended it when the racism came to light, yet he’s out here claiming her as his wife, with a damn disappearing ring and what not.

I’m mad I wasted my time thinking he was someone he clearly isn’t.

Real or fake, he doesn’t come out looking good either way.

Again if fake, he better get that Netflix documentary ready to expose the bs he was “forced” to do other than that, he’s shown true colors and it is what it is. I want her ass to post a wedding pic so everyone can be like ……okay so he’s cool with racism, fuck him, bye. ✌🏾

But due to not having 100% evidence of this being legit, I hesitate typing because as crazy as it sounds what if he’s actually in some deep shit he can’t get out of and we’re all right with speculation that this is pr, but then I think about how they always do something else and I get pissed again, so yeah I’m over this shitshow…..and I typed all of this to show that. 😂😅

I still care about his ass, but I want to know what’s really going on because this is too much and I just refuse to believe his entire persona was a lie especially since we all clearly see based on his actions, something is wrong. This man shows the world his love for Dodger yet acts like he hates the person he told the world is his “wife”.

Yeah, not falling for that shit. #PR100%

He should have done a lot of things and he still has a lot things to do. I really hope we can one day just collectively move on and focus on ourselves. Humanity is something else.

[wroteclassicaly]

Please read the following:

After the events that have transpired these past few days, like many other blogs — I have decided to take extra measures to protect my peace of mind and my blog. This is my safe space, and I won’t have it ruined! I’ll be changing a few things, so it’s important to read through this post!! Saddened that it’s come to this, but we have to keep our community and one another safe and sane, & these are some of the ways that we can!

I have always blocked underage blogs and most blank blogs! I label things accordingly, I set out boundaries, and I expressed that those be respected. I’ve always had a policy of 18+ on this blog, or do not enter if you’re a minor. However, realizing how many people have truly crossed these boundaries myself and my fellow writers have set— I know that I need heavier measures. Which is why I will be starting the extra rules below, as well as my fic writing rules!

Do not attempt to contact me if you’ve been blocked from my page. I have my reasons and I do not owe you an explanation. Please respect this.

If you’re a blank blog, especially without an age in your bio — it’s an automatic block. I have a lot to still get through, as my followers accumulate pretty quickly and it’s sometimes hard to catch. If you’re of age — SAY SO IN THE BIO!

Don’t lie about your age or make duplicate blogs to follow or interact. I realize that can happen, and sometimes there’s no sure way of knowing, but I’m doing my best to keep my blog safe for my mutuals, followers, and myself. Let’s all be respectful here.

It goes without saying, that you’re getting blocked if you’re underage. Also if you’re a blank blog. This blog is 18+ ONLY

Do not interact with me or my blog if you’re under the age of 18. Do not attempt to follow this blog, either. Blank blogs — same rules apply. I sound like a broken record, but LISTEN!!!

NOTE: If you’d like to remain anonymous because of your own comfort levels — you can send me an ask via your blog, but ask me not to publish it. Maybe mark the username out? You must be 18+

Fic rules: Things I won’t write for, just send in an ask if you aren’t sure! It’s easier to answer that way than listing them!

I’m sorry if this upsets anyone about the anons, because if you’re of age and you’ve never liked sending shit off anon — I get it. But please understand. ❤️

I’ve lost an influx of followers, but I honestly don’t give two fucks, because safety is my priority here. If this bothers you — get off my page, kay? As an older community of writers, I feel that we have somewhat of a responsibility here. I’m grateful for this community and for my friends & fellow authors 💗

Note: Important Announcement

[favroitecrime]

Same anon as the one asking for clarification on the ad. Please dont answer that one actually, I feel like that'll just open u up to more hate and I don't really think that's fair and I also realize it doesn't really matter as much as whats happening in rafah rn.

Hey! Odds of you seeing this are very slim given this ask lol but please don’t do this. You’ve every right to ask for an explanation, and while I’m probably not gonna be the best at providing one, I’m definitely gonna try because you’re owed that.

There’s lots to say about it but breaking it down, it’s ironic to air ads about threats of being bombed whilst you’re bombing an entirely different group of people. It also paints a picture that the “good Christian white man” is going to help his fellow believers and offer them shelter, turning it into a religious conflict when it’s not. Also, and I say this completely without offense so correct me if I’m out of line, but it just seemed so performative. Antisemitism & its rise must be called out, but I’ve never seen the US care about this (or any other form of prejudice towards marginalized communities) until now. It’s meant to make you feel sorry & feel bad, & to try to twist your understanding of why there “needs” to be a Jewish state.

This isn’t the best explanation by far, but I do hope I managed to highlight that campaigns like this, especially when funded by certain people (in this case zionists), will always have underlying intentions beyond what’s on the surface.

[ofsavior]

Hey Madi. I love you and I’m sorry you’re going through a bad time right now. I hope it gets better soon. Have you ever thought about just taking a month of social media detox? I think it would help as sometimes tumblr can cause people stress. I know it’s helped me a lot. I think it maybe can help?

Hi Anon!

Thank you for the suggestion, and I appreciate the concern. I’ve considered it, sort of. I think fundamentally that’s not really the issue though. Usually for me, I have a bad tendency to project my offline life stress onto my hobbies (i.e., tumblr). In this case, I think this is very true. Traveling for work gives me a fair amount of anxiety, and I’m taking WEEKS of my life dedicated to work stuff. It feels like time not well spent, and I’m very adamant about time.

But more importantly, I had some realizations under the cut (tw suicide mention).

On September 17th, 2021, my best friend from college committed suicide.

September 17th is my birthday.

I think this has caused me a lot of internal discourse (just writing this out has me tearing up) because it feels wrong to celebrate on a day when I lost someone so important to me.

I also ran into a few issues with friends recently. A lot of friends expressing that I haven’t given them enough time or that I don’t do things to their standards, and this has been really hard on me because I feel like I wasn’t a good enough friend to the person stated above or I would have been able to help him.

So having people both in my personal life and my online circles express that I’m not meeting their needs sent me into a spiral that I’m still climbing out of. I don’t think cutting myself off to my biggest support circle would be a great idea right now since my friends offline are often not as accepting or supportive.

If you’re reading this post an wondering what you can do, it’s probably just branch out or even just stay consistent and know that if I seem off or off-put… it’s really not you. I’m probably just in my sad meme hours. Knowing that I have people whose needs I DO meet would be probably very validating and helpful to me. Otherwise, I think I’m just going to end up questioning what I mean to people if I just cut off socials. Like, if I wasn’t there would it really matter?

I hope that offers some insight and apologies for this weird vent post. I figured I owe an explanation to some people.

[cometchasinglove]

I hope you're happy with the pain and suffering you have caused. I have known Freckly for YEARS, I've gotten to spend a week with her in person and share space and time together, and she has always been kind and honest and sweet. I've seen her go through 2 relationships that ended badly, and you still left her the worst, and yet still you are letting people attack her character. All you had to do was block her, tell your friends to block her, and respect her wish to keep your comissions private. Thats it. All her vent posts are tagged. She is allowed to be angry. There is a difference between feeling rage and making a threat. People are allowed to have extreme emotions. You should know, you blamed every single awful thing you said and did on being Bipolar. Other people have reached out to her telling Freckly you've done the same thing to them.

Also, Freckly isn't trying to lay claim to Starscream, but she feels she's lost him, that he was taken from HER. And you told her you SAID you didn't have feelings for starscream but you were lying. She said she was happy to share but for some reason you still just lied to her. She's also told me about the art you got. The things you've said. Just leave her alone and tell your friends to do the same. And maybe try and keep your promise about keeping your comissions private, just let artists send them to you, like you *promised*.

Just because you're nice to some people doesn't mean you werent awful to others. Thats actually a common abuser tactic so-

Just leave her alone and let her move on. If she could catch a break from you and the people talking to her about you, she'd be able to move on and stop talking about it. She left a website she adored and had friends on for 8 months because of you. Give her peace. I'm only saying something now because your partner is slandering her. Tell them being kind to one person doesnt mean you arent capable of hurting others. Where's the proof Keri did anything to you?

You probably didnt even read all this, and theres an even smaller chance you answer. If you did, I hope you grow and better yourself. I hope you get it together. And just leave her alone so she can get past this.

Hello, anon. No, I am not happy with the pain and suffering which I caused. However, I am not responsible for her feelings.

I am aware that I did wrong things. I apologized for them, never did them again, and I intend to move on from this horrific fallout.

Attack her character? Anon, she is the one who decided to publicly demonize me in front of her thousands of followers.

She is not venting. She is absolutely making threats against me. I can understand feeling rage, but death threats are never acceptable.

Anon, it’s bpd. Not bipolar. I didn’t use it as an excuse and I even mentioned that to her. It is an explanation and I realized my mistakes and I am constantly trying to better myself. I apologized and I want to move on.

Anon, you cannot rip a fictional character away from someone when they were never ours to begin with. I apologize for lying to her, but I did want to preserve her feelings because I know how attached she is to this character.

Anon, I don’t owe her anything. I tag my commissions properly and I even ask artists to do the same, but I owe her nothing. Likewise, she doesn’t owe me anything, either.

Where’s the proof that I intentionally abused her? Where’s me convincing her that Starscream wouldn’t love her?

If she really wanted to move on, she wouldn’t make death threats directed towards me.

As for my partner, she is responding to her claims, especially when she called for my death.

Anon, did you ever stop to think that I am suffering as well? I cannot eat. I cannot physically eat as much as I am suppose to because ever since she made her “vent” post, I have been unable to eat like a normal, functioning human being. That is not her fault. But I cannot help that I react this way. It is something that I must heal from on my own, much like herself.

I agree. I want to move on, but she has to be willing to as well. I hope that she seeks help and feels better.

[transpersian]

Addendum.

Follow-up to my original post about leaving the conflict. From my Twitter thread last week (2/22).

Sorry I didn't post it sooner; I literally just got out of six days in the hospital.

A particularly kind anon sent me an ask that clarified a few things for me, so I’d like to write an update to my explanation for withdrawing.

Last month, I had one of the worst mental collapses I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something.

I don’t want to get into the details because those are private. Suffice it to say that when I said my emotional needs finally exceeded the capacity of my support network, I mean that I spiraled into a place that I haven’t been in since June, with a few days of July to cap it off.

If you read my doc, you may remember that that was the worst of it. Endless BPD spiraling, all coping mechanisms failing one by one until freefall. I call this place “the pit.”

Friends gently coax me to not stay too long and I wryly joke back, “Buddy, I’ve got a vacation home down here.”

One highly unlikely happenstance after another throughout this has me finally returning to work after essentially eight months, if you count June (since I was unable to do anything despite being on the clock).

I have a good job that I’ve kicked ass at since September 2019. I had four YEARS of momentum built up into an ambitious project that was going to kick my career into its next phase.

That’s gone now.

I need to rebuild my career momentum practically from scratch now, and this mental collapse hit a couple of weeks into finally getting back to work.

Only this time, I didn’t even have the few supports that I did back in June.

I also have a lot of personal things to tend to aside from my own health. A family wedding and all of the drama that entails. Totaling my car in December. Parents divorcing. Loved ones who are entering new phases of mental and physical decay, and adapting to these heavy new paradigms.

I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that all of my friends who’ve been watching me go through this all this time have been trying to push me to find a way to get out.

“What does the end of this look like?” “We’re worried about you.” “I want my friend back.”

I never thought I’d have an out. I thought that no matter what I did, they’d blame me for all of it because it started with my thread. I thought I’d be looking over my shoulder for them and their fans for the rest of my life.

Initially, some people didn't realize that I was ready to go that far, and when some of my friends figured it out, it scared them (and rightfully so). We'd accepted my obsession as collateral damage that we'd figure out later, but it was still worrying.

I didn’t enter that conversation expecting anything, so when it went the way that it did, I have to admit that I was somewhat relieved. The fight is out of my hands now anyway and this is what everyone has been telling me I need to do.

So I did it.

I hope you can understand what I mean when I say that, in that moment, thinking about the fight and the cost, how rightfully worried my friends were about me, how long I’d been in it, and how much I was currently doing… the choice was clear.

Even my own side wanted me out.

I’m the DMZ now, and while nobody “owes” me their trust, anon was right: it would be helpful if people knew that this has been taking a major toll on me and my life. Most people directly involved are glad I’m out (even if they’re not necessarily happy with how it happened).

Has this affected my relationship dynamics with them? Absolutely. Some will flat-out never trust me again and I don’t blame them.

But I'm not okay.

I can't keep doing this anymore.

This is for the best and it was the right time for me to bow out. This is just… how it happened. Freak timing and happenstance. A perfect storm.

At the very least, try to imagine a scenario where I'm not betraying anyone beyond bowing out.

Because if I have another breakdown like last month, my income is just the first thing I'll be losing.

So...

I don’t know how much all of that matters to anyone, but I thought I’d put it out there. I’d love to be unblocked by some people, but it is what it is.

Don’t really know how to end this one. Hope it at least helped some people hate me less.

[derschwarzeengel]

Guidelines { Mobile }

General bits and pieces...

For the new followers out there, you might want to read RP'ing with Damon 101, its follow-up RP'ing with Bramble 101, my warnings page, and my faq page.

This is an independent roleplay account for an original character based in the Charmed (1998) universe. Crossovers, other original characters, and AUs are extremely welcome. I track the tag 'derschwarzeengel', so hopefully (if Tumblr works) I'll find things there in the event anyone tags me in stuff.

For more information about my Darklighter character, Damon, look at his bio page or take a look through the headcanon & bedcanon (for NSFW stuff) tags. If you want more information about Darklighters (Damon's species) in general, check out my Darklighter tag. And if there's anything else you want to know about Damon, please drop me an ask.

I also have a disclaimer here.

I don't have a set roleplay schedule. If you see me replying to others but not you, it's either in my drafts & I'm getting to it, or I missed a post. Give me a nudge via IMs.

I am always, always up to roleplaying with anons. Got an idea for a muse but don't have a blog yet or are too shy to come off-anon but want to toss something at Damon? Please do so.

⛧ Following/Unfollowing ;

I do not follow-for-follow. This is for my own sanity and a way to keep my dash clean.

If you feel like you have to unfollow me for any reason, then do so. I’m not going to ask why, you don’t owe me an explanation, and I do realize that Damon and the topics that appear on this blog are not going to be for everyone.

⛧ NSFW content ;

I am over 21 and willing to write smut. Damon is an incubus-like Darklighter who is often assigned to mortal women (mostly future Whitelighters) in order to seduce them and impregnate them as a means of spreading evil (as magical genes are always dominant in a mortal/magical cross, any resulting kids he does have with human women are going to have Darklighter abilities).

That being said, do NOT write smut with my muse if you, the mun, are under 18 years of age. If you are not comfortable writing smut or are under 18, I am perfectly willing to do a fade-to-black. Just let me know in an IM.

Sex does NOT equal a romantic relationship. Damon has a high sex drive and it is his job to sleep with human women and get them pregnant. He doesn’t often stick around after it’s confirmed she’s carrying his kid, either. He’s attracted to all genders, but with men he’s not going to always play the receiving role just because he’s lean & pretty and your male muse is a Dom (and/or a bear) with a ridiculously large Schwanz.

⛧ Relationships ;

I am open to shipping with Damon, but with him that is going to be difficult. Being German, he is going to be rather stand-offish at first to anyone who does want a genuine romantic relationship with him. So while I am open to shipping with Damon, I am not going to ship with everyone.

Multi-ship. Each ship is its own “verse”, so to speak, so Damon won’t be cheating on any romantic partners within his general verse.

I ship Damon/Chemistry. Forcing a ship if there’s no chemistry or assuming our muses are in a relationship without talking to me about it first is the quickest way for that ship to not happen.

Damon is demiromantic and does not form romantic attachments easily. For more information, please read here on how to have your muse approach him if you want a romantic ship with him.

⛧ OCs ;

With Damon being an OC himself, I am extremely open to other OCs and crossovers with other fandoms (canon, canon-divergent, AU, and OC). That being said, at the very least you need to have a bio/about and rules page.

Also, please do not assume your OC is in a relationship with Damon WITHOUT talking to me about it first.

⛧ Starters ;

I no longer write starters for new followers. 95% of the time, they go unanswered and therefore are a waste of your time and mine. If you want to interact with me, tag me in a single starter or drop an IC thing into my askbox.

⛧ IMPORTANT ;

Mun =/= muse. Damon is an immortal evil magical being with a Neutral Evil sense of morality. I am not.

Please DO NOT assume that just because my character does something means that I, the writer EVER condone the thing in real life. Fiction is not reality, and if you cannot accept that, then this is not the blog for you.

[cyancherub]

i don’t think anons realize that aging up characters even if the universe is separate from the canon media, is like creating a timeskip or another fictional universe in which the fictional characters portrayed are adults, take haikyuu for example, ya’ll gon get mad about the original creators making them 27 bc they felt like it because the characters are fictional?? make it make sense

hi crybaby !!! i appreciate you sending this a lot. really, i couldn't have put it better myself.

i could have gone into an entire explanation for that anon (and the other nasty one that showed up in my inbox afterward) about why i -- and the vast majority of people i’ve met on this app -- think writing aged up characters is perfectly acceptable and valid. 

my thoughts boil down to pretty much what you said. we take these characters and morph them into something new. we’re not writing about the canon characters, who are 15-16 years old and in high school. in all of my fics, i’m writing about fully grown men, adults who are either working or in college. these fully grown men i write about are, physically and emotionally, well into adulthood. that’s apparent in all of my fics.

and i can do that. i can pick facets of characters’ personalities that i like and project them onto my version of them in adulthood. i can age them up and portray them as adults in my own fictional alternate universe. why? because they are fictional. in what way does writing porn about men who are well into their 20s, with all the physical and emotional characteristics of a 20+ year old, make me a pedophile? how am i sexualizing minors by writing porn of a 20+ year old?

that’s it. i’m not. creating and consuming nsfw content of aged up characters doesn’t hurt anyone. especially not pixels on a screen. 

i could have taken the time to type this out for those anons, but really, i don’t feel like explaining myself to someone who’s going to call me a pedophile for writing porn of a 20+ year old character. those anons are clearly are lacking the basic fundamentals to grasp what constitutes pedophilia and what doesn’t. i don’t owe them an explanation, and neither do any of the other nsfw creators on this app. it’s not like they’d listen anyway.

[queeenpersephone]

Prompt request for Scully overhearing Mulder talk about how much he loves her with her mom.

hey anon! god i love this prompt - haven't decided about expanding and putting it on ao3, but here you go!

aka the one time mulder had the msr collective braincell.

-

Mulder kissed her last night, and she turned him away.

It’s almost too big a moment to fathom. It should’ve been like a movie: she’s dying, he loves her, she loves him, and maybe if it were a movie he would kiss her and the tumor behind her eyes would retreat into nothingness.

But this isn’t a movie. And Mulder is her best friend, her partner, the only person she truly trusts, the only man she’s ever loved beyond distraction. She’s already terrified of what will become of him when she leaves him alone in the world, so she pushes him away and hates herself for wanting to make him hate her a little.

Maybe by denying him, she can help him to move on before she’s gone.

God - just that thought sends a dagger through her heart. She closes her eyes and forces the image of her funeral behind her eyelids, picturing Mulder standing there with an arm around her mother. Her mother is crying, but maybe Mulder is thinking - at least we didn’t - at least she wasn’t -

She gasps, eyes fluttering open to see the ceiling of the hospital room. She can’t picture it. But that’s what it has to be, because to allow him into her arms months or weeks before her arms can no longer hold him has to be more painful than the alternative. Mulder is instinctive, reckless, impetuous. If he will not think about how he will feel at her grave, she will hold back for the both of them.

“Fox..? Dana didn’t tell me you were coming today.”

Scully’s eyes widen, her gaze darting to the door. Her mom is the one who picks her up after her chemo treatments and settles her at home. This is a strategic move on Scully’s part: she knows she can convince her mom to leave her to her own devices in about an hour. If she allowed Mulder to be a part of this process, his sharp eyes would pick up on her chronic pain and he would’ve already moved from his apartment onto her couch despite her wishes. Mulder cannot see her after chemo.

“Hi Mrs. Scully - yeah, I noticed she hadn’t restocked her muscle relaxant cream when I was over last night, and I know she didn’t have time to go shopping before her treatment today. Is she awake?”

The door creaks open, and Scully does her best to ensure this moment will pass without a confrontation from her partner. It’s a difficult thing to feign sleep when tears are welling in the corner of your eyes. If Mulder noticed her lack of cream, it would’ve had to have been after she turned him down cold and retreated into her room.

“Not yet,” her mother says softly as the door returns to its position of just barely cracked open. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Fox. You know how difficult Dana makes it for others to take care of her.”

Scully’s heart hurts when Mulder hums in agreement. It’s for the best, she tells herself. For Mulder. “I can take her home, Mrs. Scully. When I got to the store - well, I went a little overboard.” He sounds sheepish. “There’s - uh - some groceries in my car. Bath salts. You know, the works.”

Her mother sighs. “Oh Fox. Well, in case I’m the only one you hear this from, thank you. Dana appreciates it all, I’m sure.”

Scully swallows hard. Has she been unappreciative? It’s not that her heart doesn’t stop when Mulder turns on his charm, his soft protectiveness and concern, but it’s a slippery slope. As much as part of her wants to fold herself into his arms and disappear for a few hours - days - the independent, rational part of her fears losing them both if they come together.

“It’s not like that,” he defends them, and her heart swells. “Scully - Dana - doesn’t need to thank me. I owe her - she’s my -”

The words stop, and Scully carefully swings her legs over the side of the bed and leans forward. She hears soft little sounds coming from the door, but no words.

“Oh Fox,” her mother chokes out finally, and Scully’s eyes widen when she realizes they’re both crying. “You’ve made my daughter so happy.”

“It’s impossible that I’ve made her happier than she’s made me,” he denies fiercely. “I love her.”

And Scully has already heard those words last night, but god help her if her heart doesn’t thud heavily in her chest at the affirmation. “Have you told her that?” Her mother asks, the chiding tone in her voice slight but noticeable.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replies, sounding defeated. “She won’t change her mind about us.” Both Scully and her mother wait for his explanation with bated breath. “I know Dana, Mrs. Scully. She’s selfless - she doesn’t want to hurt me by - well - lovin’ and leavin’.” He sighs audibly. “She’s also blind,” he adds, and Scully’s hackles rise unconsciously until she hears his next words. “She doesn’t realize that the way I feel - it’s not going to be better because we never… it’s not going to be worse, either. I can’t imagine anything we do or don’t do now making this outcome any better or worse, because it’s going to be hell on earth. I wonder every second of every day if I can survive it.”

“Oh Fox,” her mother begins, but she is interrupted by the heart wrenching sobs that Scully can no longer withhold.

The door bursts open, and Mulder is there, eyes wide. “Scully,” he manages, eyes scanning her weak and fragile body, his heart in his eyes, turning from horror to resignation to determination as he strides forward and scoops her up in strong arms. “Oh Scully, didn’t you know?”

She shakes in his arms, shakes her head, doesn’t look at her mother as she closes her partner and her in the small hospital room together. “You weren’t just saying those -” She stops as Mulder stiffens; she can feel the unmistakable anger oozing from his pores. “I’m sorry,” she interrupts herself.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs as he sits back on the bed with her in his lap, cradling her close. “You don’t have to be anything but alive, Scully. Just stay alive.”

So she closes her eyes, lets him hold her, and focuses on keeping her own heart beating. For Mulder.

For that bright future where she can finally allow them to fall together.

tagging @today-in-fic !

[pascalpanic]

Fixer Upper PART ONE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Nothing seems to go right in your new house. When yet another thing breaks, a certain handyman comes to your rescue.

W/C: 2k ish

Warnings: language, joking mentions of a house being cursed (it isn’t), reader has dirty thoughts bc it’s Frankie and he’s hot

A/N: this one goes out to my anons who’ve been sending me stuff about frankie as a repairman! I loved the idea and I thought it would be super fun to write! This will be part ONE of three-ish! ps idk if any references to reader’s gender are in this part but there certainly will be some in the future so.

It’s been a while that you’ve lived in this house. Since that day you hauled in the cardboard boxes, you’ve been feeling that your life is the epitome of Murphy’s law. Or rather, this damned house is.

Nothing ever goes right. The heat breaks in the winter and the air conditioning breaks in the summer. The plumbing needs work when you need it to work, and the oven only ever breaks halfway through cooking something. Seriously, you swear this place is cursed by some hex determined to pester you out of living here.

You’ve never exactly been the handy type. You don’t know much about mechanics, heating or cooling, the electricity and wiring in your house, any of it. By now, you wish you’d taken the time to learn it at some point rather than hiring someone every time.

The first sign was that the June heat seemed inescapable. You’d been outside all day, and you figured it was just your body taking its time to adjust to the cooler, indoor temperature. Then you never cooled down. When you stepped out of the bathroom after a shower and found the air to be nearly as muggy as that of the steamed bathroom, you realized that the air conditioning must be off.

Well, it was on. The problem was that it wasn’t working. You opened all the windows, and figured the night breeze would cool you, then you became worried about serial killers and crimes and promptly shut and locked all of them again. With the fan in your bedroom on, the air at least moved, but was still thick and heavy.

In the morning, when you wake with no blankets on and sweaty sheets, you dial the repair company as fast as you can. You inform them of the situation, and they tell you they’ll send someone out your way in the next hour or two.

The air is still somewhat cool outside, so you give the front porch a shot once you get changed out of your pajamas and take yet another cool shower. The heavy dew is an indicator of just how humid the air is, and you relish every little breeze that passes by and cools you down. You conduct your morning business outside, hoping to have this problem fixed before the sun reaches a height where the temperatures will rise exponentially.

About an hour after the call, the repair van rolls up into your driveway and parks. “Thank God,” you murmur to yourself.

Your focus returns to your computer, but you hear the door slam shut and look up to find the repairman there. He wears khaki cargo pants and a gray t-shirt, complete with a ball cap on top, with dark brown curls peeking out from the bottom. He fastens his tool belt around his waist as he walks up to the porch. “Hey there. I’m Frankie. I’ll be taking care of you today,” he informs you, a kind smile on his face. You already like him. “I got the basics from the boss, but can you tell me more about the problem?”

Looking up at him from the seated position you’re in, you give an awkward smile. Suddenly, you wish you’re better dressed, fixed up and looking nice. Even in work clothes, this man is beautiful. It makes you a little nervous, you in your pajamas and him looking like a god even in cargo pants. “I wish I could, but I don’t know anything about the air conditioner and how it works other than how to change the settings. All I know is that it isn’t working.”

He gives a good-natured chuckle, a soft bounce of his chest beneath the shirt. He looks down at his tool belt and his scruff brushes against the collar of the gray. “Well, let’s go give it a shot. I’ll need you to show me around, show me the control panel and the main system.” God, he’s handsome.

“Oh, of course,” you nod and stand, leaving your laptop on the small table. “Well, right this way. And please, you don’t need to take your boots off. Those look complicated,” you laugh as you look at the heavy tan boots at the bottom of his body.

Frankie nods and looks around as you lead him through the house. He doesn’t take his boots off, since you insisted, but he does give them a generous wipe on the doormat, careful not to track anything in. “It’s a beautiful place,” he tells you honestly, with a half-smile that just tugs at one of the corners of his ridiculously soft-looking lips.

“Thanks,” you shrug and show him to the control panel. “I try. Okay, here’s the button thingy.”

“The button thingy?” he teases, which leads to laughter from the both of you.

“If I knew what it was called, you wouldn’t be here,” you tease him back and shake your head.

Frankie uses the tools from his belt to take off the casing. You lean against the wall as he works, admiring the way his hands nimbly check the wires and paneling behind it. He holds a small flashlight between his teeth to look into the wall cavity.

“I can hold that for you,” you offer, and he moves his mouth for you to take it from him.

“Thanks,” he says, popping his jaw slightly to adjust from the awkward angle of holding it between his teeth. “You don’t have to. I’m just here to fix it.”

You point it at the same spot. “I might as well be some help, considering I don’t know shit about my own house.”

Frankie laughs at that, stealing a glance your way that makes your face warm before his gaze returns to the electrical situation. “Well,” he declares after a few seconds. “The wiring must not be the problem here. This all is working fine, so it must be with the actual system.”

“Great,” you groan. “The part I know even less about.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he chuckles and screws the panel back into place on your wall, making sure everything works properly and he didn’t mess with any functions.

Leading Frankie to your basement, you show him the cluttered laundry room and the central air conditioning unit. He’s already analyzing the system, and you back off to let him work. He looks focused. “Holler if you need me,” you tell him as he gets on his knees to look at something, daring to gently pat his shoulder. It’s strong, muscular beneath your palm.

Heading back to the kitchen, you open the fridge and sigh. For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and just enjoy the cold air it produces. Hopefully, your house will be the same soon enough. Grabbing two tall glasses, you fill each with ice before pouring half sweet tea and half lemonade into the glasses.

You stand in the kitchen with the freezer open, sighing at the cool air it provides. Not sure how long he’ll take, you scroll through your phone. It’s surprisingly quick, you find.

“Hey, I found it!” Frankie calls from the basement.

Carrying the two glasses, you return to the laundry room to find him reorganizing his tool belt. “Here,” you tell him with a smile as you hold out the drink. “Least I could do. It’s unbearable in here.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and lifts the glass to you in a miniature salute before taking a sip. Frankie then launches into a detailed explanation of the issue with the A/C unit, using all kinds of terms you don’t understand and mentioning parts you didn’t even know were included in the machine. “I got it all fixed up, though, and it shouldn’t take long before it’s working just as good as normal.”

You sigh in relief, swallowing the sweet drink and smiling at him. “God, thank you so much. You don’t even know how awful it was in here.”

“If it’s anything like right now, I do,” he chuckles. The man takes the hem of his t-shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, revealing a muscular but soft body beneath it, with a beautiful little trail of dark hair leading to beneath his belt. Is it terrible that your first thought is that you want to lick it?

You force the image from your mind with another swig of the drink. “Yeah, just about. Well, how much do I owe you?” You ask the man, leading him out of the laundry room and into the basement that’s already feeling cooler.

“Oh, nothing right now,” he shakes his head as you lead him upstairs and to the kitchen. “I just tweaked some things for you, didn’t need any parts or anything, so it’s just gonna be labor.” He seems to remember something. “Ah, shit. I gotta have you sign something. I’ll grab the paper from the van and be right back,” he tells you and leaves his drink on the counter, half-jogging outside.

While he’s outside, you lean against the cool kitchen counter and let yourself daydream. This Frankie guy certainly is attractive, and his personality is definitely something you’re interested in. What if the situation right now played out like a porno, and he fucked you on the countertop? You certainly wouldn’t complain. You noticed his hands and feet are large. Certainly he must be big somewhere else too. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you murmur to yourself. Why did my mind have to go there? And why is the thought so hot? He’s a sweet man too, clearly goofy and sweet. Why is your mind going there then? Really, upon further pondering, you just want to hug the man, admire his strong body pressed to yours in an intimate but innocent gesture.

“Sorry, what was that?” Frankie calls out as he walks into the house again.

His voice snaps you from your daydreaming. “Oh, just talking to myself,” you say quickly and cheerfully, taking the paper from him. The top is printed with repairman name: Francisco Morales. Francisco. That makes you smile. What a cute name. The rest is filled with the details of what he did to the machine to fix it, and you sign and date at the bottom. “Here you go, Francisco.”

His tanned skin turns a little pinker on the cheeks. “Great,” Frankie smiles and takes it back.

“Before you leave,” you tell him quickly, darting to grab your purse from the entryway, “here.”

Frankie walks to you and you hand him a generous cash tip, with a stupid smile stuck to your face. “Thank you, wow,” he says, voice honest in its surprise as he notices the total of the money.

“Of course. I really can’t thank you enough. God, it’s been painfully hot in here and I really just can’t stand the heat,” you ramble, your voice speeding up. “And… yeah. Thank you. For your company, too.”

“Just doing my job,” he tells you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, here.”

From his pocket, he pulls a little rectangle of paper with his name and company on it. “The shop number is on here; if anything changes, just call and ask for Catfish.”

“Catfish?” You ask with a smile, puzzled.

“My old military nickname. It’s what the guys around there call me,” he shrugs, shy at the nickname.

It makes you laugh a little, and you tuck the card in your purse. “Well, Catfish, thank you. I’ll be sure to use this next time I have some stupid thing I can’t repair myself.”

“Please do,” he chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks!” You call again and cringe. That’s, what, the ninth time you’ve said that now? He walks to the van and you give him a wave before retreating back inside. God, now you can’t wait for this shitty house to need another repair. You’ll certainly be asking for Catfish.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal

[we-love-imagines]

How about one where Jotaro has a crush on the reader but he thinks the reader likes Kakyoin, so he tries to get them be together. Reader notices this, gets frustrated by it, and confesses to Jotaro out of said frustration

I really liked this ask!!! Thank you so much anon! I’m sorry this took so long, my ask box was being mean, but I hope you enjoy! I’m going to start writing more frequently again- I took a little break after Christmas Countdown!

warning: some naughty words and a sprinkle-dinkle of angst!

Ripping off the Band-Aid

Jotaro couldn’t take it anymore.

How you looked at him, how you laughed at all his jokes, how happy you two seemed together- it hurt more than words could express. Jotaro, over the course of your journey to Cairo, had somehow learned to love you; but he saw how you didn’t return his feelings, that much was obvious. There was little question in his mind that you and Kakyoin had a thing for each other. Yet, that isn’t what hurt the most.

It was the lack of closure that really stung; the feeling that he still had a chance with you clawing in the back of his mind every time he saw you and Kakyoin. Frankly, he wished you two would just get together already so he could pack away his feelings and be done with them. If he knew you were taken, forever out of his reach, he could let you go. But this weird limbo you were in, where you were simultaneously attainable and out of his grasp, was torture.  

While Kakyoin certainly wasn’t outgoing, he was far more approachable than Jotaro was. Of course you would prefer him; Kakyoin was nicer, smarter, and overall the better option compared to him. Jotaro really wanted to beat himself over the head sometimes, wondering if he’d be in Kakyoin’s position if he had just been a little nicer. Getting sick of all the ‘what if’s’ and heartache, Jotaro made the decision to get you and Kakyoin together as soon as possible. That was the only hope he had to pack away his jealousy, and put this stupid feeling behind him.

It started small, of course. Jotaro would distance himself from you and Kakyoin, giving you two a lot more time alone together than you were accustomed to. This technique quickly grew more obvious, like when Jotaro would whisper to the Old Man to let you two room together or insisting you both sit in the back during long car rides. While you enjoyed your time with Kakyoin, of course, both of you started to notice Jotaro’s desire that you two stay together at all times. When it was just the two of you, it felt like there was a piece missing- the third member of your little trio.

Jotaro got tired of you two still dancing around each other’s feelings, so he upped the ante. Pushing aside how much it hurt, he’d throw the old man’s money away on flowers and jewelry for you, writing “From: Kakyoin” on the little tags and leaving them in your hotel room. While he was never into this lovey-dovey type shit, part of him wished he could address this sweet, romantic gifts from himself. 

He didn’t know where he was going with this idea- you weren’t stupid. If Kakyoin admitted to you that he didn’t give you these gifts, you’d probably think it was some sick prank. For once, he hoped Kakyoin would lie to you, claim it was his doing and confess, so this could all be over with. Even if you did think it was some mean joke Jotaro was trying to pull, who cares? Maybe you and Kakyoin could bond over your shared hatred of him.

After a few of these incidents, your patience was beginning to wear thin. At this point, Jotaro refused to speak to you and Kakyoin outside of conflict, always ducking away the moment you three were alone together. Not to mention the weird, frequent gifts; it was clear Kakyoin wasn’t getting them for you, seeing as he freaked out and assumed the strange objects in your room were part of an enemy Stand. Quickly discovering it wasn’t part of a ploy to kill you, you figured that it must be from another member of the group- you had a sneaking suspicion of who it could be.

The next time you checked into a hotel, you hatched a plan with Kakyoin to catch your mysterious benefactor red-handed. While you two were “hanging by the pool,” Hierophant Green remained in the hotel room, watching and waiting for them to deliver the goods. 

Wouldn’t you know it, Jotaro shuffled into the room, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw you weren’t there, he pulled back his large, black coat to reveal a little bouquet of daisies, scribbling “From: Kakyoin” on the tag, leaving as quickly as he came.

Something in you was deeply hurt by this, rage pooling in your gut as you stood up from your poolside chair.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed to Kakyoin, your eyebrows knitting tightly as you spoke, “That bastard’s been messing with us! I’m gonna go give him a piece of my mind!”

As you began to stomp away, Kakyoin called for you to wait just a second, to try and calm down before you went to confront him. However, his words fell on deaf ears, your face going red out of pure frustration. Jotaro has the gall to ditch you and Kakyoin out of nowhere, try and push you two together at all times, and now he’s trying to fool you? Nuh-uh. Not on your watch. You were determined to figure out his little game so you could figure out why he wanted you out of his life so badly. 

Behind all your anger was genuine hurt- someone you cared about very, very deeply looked like he wanted nothing to do to you. You deserved an explanation at least.

Angrily marching up to his hotel room door, you knock with resounding force before waiting for him to answer. After a moment, the door opened up, Jotaro’s eyes widening when he saw the furious look on your face. Before he could shut the door on you, you placed your foot in the doorframe, forcing yourself in with an angry glare.

“You’re not getting out of this one, Jojo,” you practically snarled, crossing your arms as you stood before him, “You owe me an explanation.”

Without skipping a beat, Jotaro dryly remarked, “Kakyoin asked me to do it.” In his mind, Jotaro felt like shit for what he was doing; the fact that you were this upset surprised him, but he didn’t let that show on his face. His bold-faced lie only seemed to heat you up further, the hurt in your heart threatening to boil over.

“Don’t spout Bullshit at me, Jotaro. Since you’ve been making me and Kakyoin spend every waking moment together, he’d never have the time to buy anything.”

Jotaro, in his usual emotionally-unavailable fashion, remained stone-faced as he turned away from you. He was trying to suppress his feelings, trying to put the pain of hurting you aside so all of this could be over and done with. While he felt you staring daggers into his back, he tried his best to pretend you weren’t there, searching for the TV remote in the hopes you’d just go away- go away and find Kakyoin, that is.

You were both used to fighting in the literal sense, beating the snot out of enemy Stand users on the regular. However, fights like these, arguments about emotions and friendship and junk, were somehow a million times scarier for Jotaro. He couldn’t just hit the problem until it stopped moving, he had to sit down and sort out his feelings- the very feelings he was trying to keep hidden.

While Jotaro wanted to ignore you, you were done being ignored by him. Your bubble of anger burst as Jotaro grabbed the remote, sending your Stand to slap it out of his hands and forcefully turn him around to face you.

“You know how much it hurts when you try to push me and Kakyoin away? How much we miss hanging out with you?” you spit at him, words spewing out of you as everything boiled over, “I dunno what you’re trying to do with the flowers and boxes of chocolate, but it isn’t funny. If you’re trying to get me and Kakyoin together or something, it won’t work- I don’t like him like that. I like you like that!”

Clutching a hand over your mouth, you couldn’t believe what you said. By the uncharacteristic blush on his face, Jotaro couldn’t believe it either. Ever since he saved your ass from Yellow Temperance, you’ve definitely had a thing for Jotaro. That thing grew and grew, especially in his absence; in all honesty, that’s probably why his trickery hurt you so badly. Both of you stood motionless, silence hanging in the air as you both waited for the other to speak.

After a few long, deafening moments, Jotaro finally croaked out, “So... you’re not into Kakyoin?”

“Only as a friend,” you squeaked out in response, your cheeks reddened and blazing hot, “Did you think me and Kakyoin were...?”

“-Yes.”

Again, both of you just stared at each other, trying to gauge what the other was thinking. You had just confessed your feelings to Jotaro, and other than his pink cheeks, his stoic face remained the same. Little did you know, his stomach was doing backflips, his mind racing at a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you had said. 

You liked him? You really, really liked him? Like that?

He practically short-circuited, anything about DIO or the outside world gone from his mind; to him, it felt like the entire universe was just this room, and you two were it’s sole inhabitants.

“Jotaro?” you mumbled his name weakly, breaking him out of his reverie. He didn’t realize how long you’d both been standing there, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the prolonged silence left you wondering if your feelings were returned.

“I- I, um-” he stuttered, quickly trying to regain his composure, “I thought you and Kakyoin had feelings for each other, so I tried to help you two out.”

“Oh, I see,” was all you managed to mumble out, your mind swirling with thoughts of rejection. Was this a subtle way to tell you to get lost? If he wanted you and Kakyoin to get together, he probably didn’t feel the same. You turned to leave, trying to hold back tears as you reached for the door’s handle.

“(Y/n),” he stopped you, grasping you by the wrist. You turn to face him, his grip sliding towards your hand as you found yourself closer to him than ever before.

“I tried to get you and Kakyoin together because I thought I didn’t have a chance with you. I thought it would make me feel better,” he admitted, his face now fully red as he averted his gaze from yours, “You know I’m bad with the mushy stuff, but I like you, (Y/n). A lot.”

Both you didn’t realize how good hearing that out loud would make you feel. Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His body was still for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe this was really happening, but eventually his tenseness melted away as he returned your physical affection. Jotaro felt a little dizzy, but in a good way- he was so surprised you felt the same way, it made him delirious.

“I’m sorry I got so angry,” you whispered into his chest, arms slowly pulling off of him, “Me and Kakyoin really missed you.”

“I’ll try not to overdo it next time,” he chuckled, looking down to meet your eyes again. You jokingly punched him in the arm, trying to muster up an angry expression despite how good you felt.

“There won’t be a next time doofus!”

As you both laughed together, you tried your best to memorize the rare joyful look on Jotaro’s face. You had a feeling you’d be seeing it more often.

[photogirl894]

I want to extend my deepest and sincerest thanks to so many of you regarding recent events. (Long post ahead)

Some of you may know and some of you may not, but over the last two days, another well-known Tumblr user who is no longer on this platform (I will be civil and not name them by name unless asked, but plenty of you know who it was) was trying to cause drama between her and me here on Tumblr. If you want the entirety of the story, then I will gladly share privately, but I will spare you the long explanation. I owe it to people who don’t know or didn’t understand what happened at least the long story short.

We had a falling out about a month ago and she hadn’t spoken to me in weeks. Then, through a series of events that I will admit I could have handled a little better in the beginning, it led to her getting people to send me anon hate and then trying to slander me with posts claiming all sorts of lies about me and tagging people in them to get them to turn against me. First, with the anons, I was flooded with an onslaught of support from my friends and followers that far outweighed the anons, and then with the callout post, I chose to be the bigger person and ignored it. I only private messaged people who had been tagged to explain and asked them to not publicly engage. After that, though, it seems that other people handled the situation for me. I know there were a couple people who sent messages to the other person defending me and others asking to never be tagged in such posts like that ever again. I don’t know the exact repercussions that happened, but it resulted in the post being taken down and subsequently the person’s blog being deactivated entirely. She had tried to start a war, but retreated when things turned on her and realized she didn't have the support she wanted.

I received so many messages from people telling me they didn’t believe anything that was said about me for a multitude of reasons and showing me their love and gratitude for being who I am. I honestly cannot express enough how grateful I am that most people were able to trust me and believe in me in such a situation. Sadly, there were a couple friends who did believe those false things and have blocked me, which saddens me a lot, but overall, I have come to learn that I have the best and most loyal friends and followers here on Tumblr! I had some that helped me keep a level head when the callout post came to light, because I was more than ready to respond and tear the argument apart; I was furious, but my friends helped me stay calm and helped me be logical. There were even some people who didn’t know me that well that stood behind me through the whole ordeal based on their opinions of me and/or their opinions of the other person.

Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to each and every one of you that have stood by me, been there for me and were a rock in the storm for me. Sometimes I feel that being a good person is a weakness because it’s led to me being hurt several times by people who were once my friends and took advantage of my kindness, but it’s times like this that I’m reminded that no, it isn’t. Being who I am has brought people into my life like all of you who are loyal and true in the face of a difficult situation. I seriously am blessed! It was a tough and emotionally draining last couple of days, but so many of you helped me get through it and I'm thankful that I didn't lose a lot of my friends in this. I apologize for the drama that took place and the effects it might've had on some of you, but really, thank you! Thank you all so much! 🥺😭💜

(Sorry for the long post!)

[uncpanda]

hey love, I wanted to ask/say something but I don't mean it in a disrespectful manner.

I love reading your stories. I recently found your account and I went through your stuff like a hot knife through butter.

and many of your stories end with pregnancies and babies, while there is nothing wrong with that and it wonderful to read, I think it is sad? to always end it like that. Like the only think a woman can achieve is have children? if you know what I mean. Again, I don't have anything against you and your stories, it's just something I saw and wanted to talk about. have a good morning

Here’s the thing. You may not mean to be disrespectful, but I find it VERY disrespectful. You don’t know me. You don’t know what my life is like. And to be honest when you say something like, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful but...” it shows me that you know you’re about to come off as disrespectful and you’re putting any hurt or damage your words do on me. In my opinion it’s the same as saying, “No offense but...”

I don’t owe you an explanation. I really don’t. But I’m going to give it anyways. I am a teacher. I have my college degree. I work for everything I have and I often put my career before anything else.

I am single. And I don’t want to be. But a lack of self confidence, anxiety, and a refusal to settle have led to it. And while I hope this won’t always be the case, it might be 🤷‍♀️ For me and myself, I want to get married and have a family. That’s my choice and if I do find someone I love so much that I’m willing to tie my life to theirs I still may not be able to have children. I have something called PCOS which often times makes having children difficult. I’m also at an age where all of my friends are getting married and having children and I’m in a constant state of being reminded of the what if’s in my life. For me, writing about it is therapeutic. The HAPPY marriage with the HAPPY family when I feel like an outsider in the one I’ve been born into is something I’ve always wanted. Once again, it is my choice. And I don’t find it sad.

I also can’t help but wonder if you would go to an author who has made the very RESPECTABLE and PERSONAL choice of being child free and complain to them that they never write the pregnancy and family scenario?

In this post, while you may jot have intended to be disrespectful I feel disrespected. Because not once have I ever said that being a wife and a mother is all anyone can do. In most of my fics reader has a job outside of being a mother. And even if they didn’t there’s nothing wrong or sad about that if they choose it! My mother was a stay at home mom.

That being said, I also realized that a lot of my fics were ending that way and I’ve been making a conscious effort to end some of the requests without going to that trope. I mean, I’ve been publishing a fic a day for the last few weeks. And that takes work, dedicated writing time.

So, I’ll leave off with this. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life. If you have a question or want to have a conversation you come off anon and send me a message. You don’t do this to where you leave me in frustrated tears because I feel like I’m being judged. And For this I go back to a old but trie saying, If you don’t like it. Then don’t read it. Because to be honest all this has made me want to do is take a break from tumblr again.

[buckyownsmylife]

Black and white - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry is a vampire and he’s been trying to keep you safe by distancing himself. 

Warnings: vampire!Henry AU, blood, smut 

A/N: this was requested by anon waaaay back in october 😅 It’s finally here!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The bell rang as another customer entered the shop, but I was too busy jotting down the books Miss Gayle was buying that it took me a minute to raise my head to greet them. When I did, I immediately wished I’d just ignored the sound, despite the fact that it was both absolutely impolite and completely out of character for me.

Nonetheless, it was done, and I scrambled to replace the smile that had fallen from my face at the sight of Henry with another one, albeit a visibly plastic replacement. It was nothing like the ones I usually greeted my customers with, and by the way Henry flinched and Miss Gayle raised an eyebrow, it was easy to see that I was in no way comfortable with the new arrival.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” I barely acknowledged him, turning back to the nice old lady who had kept her weekly visits to my shop ever since I first opened it. It was times like these where I’d wish I actually had people working for me. “That’ll be 35 dollars, Miss Gayle. Do you want a receipt?”

Eyebrows still raised, she simply fished two twenties before handing them to me, just as I handed her a five back. She always tried to leave me with some sort of tip, but I’d known her well enough by now to be able to anticipate her antics.

“You’re impossible, dear,” she’d always tease me, to which I’d laugh heartily. The only difference was that today, after our usual banter, she chanced a glance at Henry, who was trying to pretend to be busy while looking at some bookcases, before turning back to me. “Give him a chance. He clearly cares about you, and you need someone to do so, so you don’t end up like me, all alone with only this store to keep you company.”

The unrequested advice took me by surprise, and I froze in my spot, staring back at her with her receipt still in my hand. It was only when she reached out to take it from me that I snapped out of it, hopefully blinking my confusion away from my face.

It wouldn’t be the first time I seriously considered the possibility that Miss Gayle was actually a witch. 

“I think you’re misreading the situation, Miss Gayle. But don’t worry, if it’s any consolation, so have I.” She frowned at my words, undoubtedly pondering over what I could possibly mean, but I tried to keep a smile on my face as I walked her to the door. Any excuse to keep myself away from the man waiting for my attention.

When the bell rang again, signaling her leaving, I sighed, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to happen. But before I could even turn around to face him, Henry’s voice cut through my whirlwind of thoughts, declaring, “She’s right, you know that?”

I hummed halfheartedly, not wanting to turn around and deal with this, but knowing it was better to get on with it already. “Right about what? About you caring for me? I don’t doubt that, Henry, but I also don’t think I was wrong in what I told her. I clearly misread whatever it was we had going on, because I thought you had taken me out on a date and I thought you had been too nervous to take the first step and kiss me goodnight, so for the first time in my life I gathered enough courage to initiate a kiss, only to be rudely pushed away before you disappeared for days.”

It all came out in one jumbled speech, my need to get those feelings out making me run over the words while I tried to get through this to save me the embarrassment of having to relive that night again. It was all I’d thought about for days, and just when I was finally about to get over it, he just had to waltz back into my shop and throw me on a loop again.

“Look, I don’t mind that you don’t reciprocate my feelings and I don’t mind that I made a fool of myself that night. Did it suck? Yes. A lot. But what really hurt was the fact that that stupid risk I decided to take was miscalculated, because even if I considered the idea of you not reciprocating my feelings, I never thought you would simply allow it to destroy what I considered to be a good and strong friendship. Because that’s how I saw you, first and foremost. As a friend.”

I took a long breath as I finally averted my eyes from him, trying to force myself not to cry in front of this man and become even more pathetic to the one person who I wanted to impress more than anyone else in my life. God, this crush was going to destroy me, just how weak was I?

I didn’t really expect any sort of response from him. What could he say after all of that? Still, it took me by surprise when he interrupted my string of self-deprecating thoughts. “I don’t want to be a friend.”

My heart started to pound inside my chest, my eyes suddenly meeting his again. As much as the sick part of my mind wanted to tell me that he was saying he didn’t want to have any association with me anymore - he did avoid me for three days, after all - rationally, it was clear that he meant something else entirely.

Henry’s P.O.V.

  I watched her eyes grow bigger, her breathing becoming more laboured. I could hear her blood pumping more rapidly on her veins, calling out to me, but for the first time since we met, it was easy for me to ignore it. I didn’t want to lose her, in any shape or form. All of my attention was focused on her and her reactions, because I needed her to believe in me.

“You weren’t wrong. It was a date, or at least I wanted it to be a date. And I did chicken out when it came to kiss you goodnight, but it wasn’t for the reason that you’re thinking.” She was frowning, clearly trying to understand what I was hiding, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “Give me another chance,” I whispered, reaching out for her hand when I heard the bell over the door of her bookstore ringing again, signaling the arrival of another customer. “Go out with me tonight. I promise that I’ll explain everything.”

Her brows furrowed deeply, I knew she was having a hard time deciding to trust me again, to put her heart on the line once more. And I hated myself for putting her in such a situation. I hated that I’d wrecked her self-esteem, made her doubt my feelings for her.

Which was why I knew that I was making the right choice by fighting to stay in her life.

“Okay,” came her answer finally, yet not at all in a firm tone. It broke my heart, but I understood. “Come and pick me up after I close the store. I’ll be waiting.” And with a simple nod, she dismissed me until later.

Fair enough. I knew she had things to do and that she needed time to go over the repercussions of what I had just admitted, but a part of me was scared that being apart would simply make her second guess her decision. Still, I needed to respect it. I owed her at least that. So I left her to her own devices, trusting that when I got back to the store she would really be there for me to pick her up.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I spent the rest of the day unable to concentrate on my work activities. Everything I did, my mind brought me back to Henry and those two very pungent moments when I was with him. The night of our “date” and this morning.

My gut told me I hadn’t made a mistake in accepting his request for an explanation. Even during those days apart, I knew there was a reason for his behavior, I just… I knew it. I couldn’t explain it, especially since we didn’t even know each other for that long. But it was the same thing that made me trust him implicitly. The same feeling in the depths of my soul that recognized him somehow, that made me start to fall for him during long conversations over coffee in my bookshop.

Still, my mind begged me to run away, to protect myself. I didn’t need to go through this again. Nothing stopped him from rejecting me again - in fact, that was very likely to happen. Doesn’t love work out just like… 1% of the time? 

Just when I was starting to freak myself out, I heard my name being uttered from behind me, making me jump in the air. “God, make a noise or something,” I complained, a hand over my heart as I turned around to find him clearly trying very hard not to laugh at me. 

“Sorry.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I simply noted, “You don’t look sorry at all.” He wanted to laugh again, I knew that, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes became peculiarly soft as he pondered over what to say. “You’re right, I’m not sorry. You look really cute when you’re scared. Can I kiss you now?” 

I should say no. Right? I should totally say no. But I had been crushing on this guy for the last few months and in that second, all I seemed to be able to do was to nod, my breath hitching when he approached to cradle my entire face with his huge hands. God, he was so beautiful, even more from up close. 

But just when the distance between our lips was about to become nonexistent, just when all I could hear was the blood in my veins being pumped on maximum speed due to the way my heart was pounding in my chest, he hesitated, breaking the spell.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered almost against my mouth, so close that I could feel his cold breath on my face. “I shouldn’t.” I couldn’t really call it a clarification, since it only left me more confused.

Even worse, it awakened that awful, burning feeling of humiliation, that reignited the fires of embarrassment deep within my stomach. “Why do you do this to me?” His eyes grew big at the realization of my anger, like somehow, he didn’t expect it at all. 

“Did you come here only to break me further? I can’t handle this, Henry. I don’t need this. Please, leave.” For a second, I thought he would, but I don’t know why. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed that would be his intention. If anything, it was the precise opposite. As the concern disappeared from his face, his expression solidified in a hardened mask that showed just how serious he was about whatever it was that he needed to say.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“No. I’m not leaving. Not until you hear what I have to say. Please.” I could see the hesitation on her, and I knew it was deserved. I deserved it. I knew it just as well as I knew that I didn’t deserve her. 

But she did deserve an explanation, and I was going to give her that. And if she could find it in herself to still want me in her life, maybe we could be something more. God knows how much I actually wanted to kiss her.

“Not here,” I implored, needing her to give me just a little bit more of her time. “Can I please join you in your home?”

It took some time, but at last, she nodded, making sure the door of the bookshop was properly locked before silently making her way down the street, taking the path that I had followed so many times before, when I’d accompany her on her trajectory after work. But back then the air was lighter, there was chatter and laughter between us. Now, it felt cold, even colder than my skin.

Thankfully, we were by her house before long. She looked over her shoulder before moving to unlock the door, like she wanted to make sure I was still there. There was absolutely no way I’d leave her hanging like that again, especially since she had found it in her to continuously give me another chance.

“Thank you,” I peeped when she invited me in, quickly assuming the seat she pointed me to. I was even more thankful for the fact that she still chose to sit by my side on the sofa, instead of pulling a chair to keep some space between us. Maybe she liked to be in a close proximity to me just as much as I did with her.

“I… don’t know where to start,” I began, suddenly self-conscious and doubting everything I’d decided on my way here again. But then she shrugged, and the realization that I was about to lose her before I even had her was enough to get me to suddenly blurt out, “I’m a vampire.”

At first, there was no reaction at all. She remained seemingly unfazed, arms crossed in front of her chest, expression thoroughly unreadable. I would be sweating if I could, but as it were, I just started babbling even more. 

“Please, don’t be afraid. I’d never hurt you. I promise. But that’s why I’ve been keeping away, I… I feel so attracted to you, but I couldn’t let you fall for me without knowing who I truly am. And this is who I truly am. Still me. Just a little bit older than you thought.” Still no answer, until suddenly she cut the silence that had fallen in the living room with a long drawn-out breath, before exclaiming, “I’m not afraid.”

That was literally the last thing I thought she would say immediately after I admitted my secret.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You… You’re not afraid of me?” He repeated, clearly not believing what I had just said.

“No.” After a few seconds of silence, he ended up cutting the tension in the room with a request.

“Then tell me what you’re thinking.” As bizarre as the situation was and as confused as my feelings for Henry were at the moment, I couldn’t help but to joke, “What, you can’t read my mind?”

He pursed his lips, clearly unamused but at the same time relieved that I wasn’t angry or afraid of him. I took a deep breath, still looking him dead in the eyes, before admitting, “I’m thinking… that I really want to fuck you.”

That caught him by surprise.

“You want me?” I had to huff, rolling my eyes at his stupidity. How could someone be this unaware of social queues? Or, better yet, of his own attractiveness?

“Yes, I want you. And I’m done holding myself back from getting what I want.” And with that, I climbed on his lap, tugging him down to meet my lips by the collar of his shirt. He was cold, colder than he should be, but I don’t think I would have noticed if I didn’t know who - or actually, what - he was.

He tasted like mint, and a little bit like coffee. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t something this ordinary. And I especially wasn’t expecting to like it so much. But suddenly, he grasped my hips, stopping my unconscious slow grind against his crotch. “I’m not sure you’ve completely understood what this means,” he started, and I had to laugh. 

“You drink blood, right? What else is there to understand? I like you, Henry. I’m not gonna suddenly stop liking you over something like this. Now please, can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for this for so long...” I don’t know if it was my words or my pouty face, but something made him grab me with a new vigor that had me screaming in excitement.

“I knew you were perfect for me,” he whispered as he rubbed his nose on my cheek, making me giggle with delight. The absolute sweetness of the statement had my heart skipping a beat momentarily.

“Then kiss me, you idiot.” Thankfully, he did just so. And although I could still feel his restraint, I now understood what it meant - and it was so much easier to deal with when I had his lips to distract me. 

When I had to pull apart to catch my breath, he kept his mouth on my skin, slowly tracing a path from my jaw down to my throat, and when he got to my jugular, he stopped, simply inhaling while I felt his mouth water on top of it. “You ever wonder what I taste like?” I teased, running my hand through his curls, and he pulled away to look me in the eyes, first in concern and then in lust.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“All the fucking time.” Instead of being afraid, the little mixen bit on the lower lip I wished I still had between my own teeth, before remarking, “That’s kinky.” It had me roaring with laughter until I felt the need to attack her mouth with mine again.

“I’ll show you kinky.” After she had to separate from me to catch her breath once more, I traced the path her blood followed down her neck until the neckline of her dress, before softly pulling the sleeves down on each side so I could lave her collarbone and shoulders with my tongue, too.

“Do you want a taste?” She whispered, the question making me freeze for a second, my fingers pressing even tighter in the soft skin of her hips. I could feel her heartbeat under them. She was so… alive. Perhaps that’s why she made me feel like that, too.

“I couldn’t possibly ask you for that.”

“You’re not asking.” I tried to find something, anything in her eyes that showed me a sign of humour, but there was nothing. She was honestly doing this. I hesitated for a while, until she used the grip she had on my curls to pull me down against her neck, that she exposed even more to me by throwing her head back. “Please.”

My eyes trailed down the curve of her shoulder as I felt my fangs starting to grow. A swipe of my tongue over them confirmed what I already knew: they were ready. With one last look into her eyes to see if she wanted to back out, I leaned over her and pierced the neck of my beloved, sucking just enough to allow me to taste the magnificent essence that kept her alive before I retreated and lapped the few droplets that still escaped the punctures.

The sight of her breathing hard, making her breasts jump up to my face as I kept her safe in my lap was enough to get me completely hard. “Bed. Now.” That was the only warning I gave her before I rose up from the couch with her clinging to my body, legs wrapped around my back. She giggled against the kiss I stole from her lips, undoubtedly tasting a little bit of herself, before keeping on with the trend of endlessly teasing me for her own amusement.

“You know, I don’t really feel like sleeping right now.” I growled at her continuing giggles, squeezing her ass to grind her against my hardness. I wanted to know just how thoroughly fucked she’d be.

“You’re not going to sleep any time soon, darling.” Reconnecting our lips, I followed blindly in the direction of what I assumed her bedroom to be located, only stopping to let her catch her breath because she pulled away. I would have to be better at remembering that she needed that.

“You never told me what I tasted like,” she breathed out against my lips, buying herself more time to get some air into her lungs. It made me laugh, the question sounding absurd considering everything, but this is precisely what I loved about her.

“Like fucking candy, how about that?” She screamed as I dipped her back, laying her down on the mattress before climbing over her again. “I really want to know if it’s the same down there.”

She clinged to me eagerly, legs wrapping around my body as her hands made quick work of my shirt. It felt intoxicating to see just how desperate she was for me, just how she reciprocated my own desire.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The second I was laid bare for his eyes to take in, a sharp inhale resonated through the room. I could feel his eyes trailing down my body, drinking me in, and it made me dizzy with desire. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was barely over a whisper, and still, I heard it in my very soul.

But then, a thumb was running over my lower lips, teasingly opening me up to his gaze, and I mewled at just how great it felt to be this exposed to him. “And so wet,” he added, using that same thumb to collect some of the moisture I could feel starting to drip from me and then rubbing it all over my pussy.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I asked, trying to muster all of the defiance I could find, but my body was weakened by my need for the man hovering above me - and he knew. He just knew he had reduced me to a needy, whimpering mess, and he was loving every second of it.

His thumb found my clit and he massaged it for a bit, eyes trapping mine in his hypnotizing gaze as he pondered over my question. Until, finally, there was an answer. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Okay, this wasn’t what I was hoping for. But still, I could see the hint of nervousness in his eyes, even if buried under deep layers of desire. So I was happy to oblige, my own hand slowly traveling down my body until it met his, right when he raised the thumb that had been just touching me there up to my lips.

“Open up.” My eyes fluttered shut as my mouth dropped open to accept the digit, and I eagerly swirled my tongue around it before sucking, while my own fingers slowly explored my dripping opening. I don’t know if it was the action he was getting on his thumb or if it was the vision of me dipping two fingers inside of myself and moaning around him, but in a second he had pulled both his and my hands away and had lunged himself at me.

“Eager, aren’t we?” I joked, fully enjoying that for at least this millisecond, I had the upper hand again. Henry didn’t seem to mind, if the way he licked his lips and delved to bruise mine in a breathtaking kiss was any indication of it.

“I’ve dreamed about being in your bed for so long,” he admitted, and my heart grew twice its size at the thought of him actively wishing for this, just like I’d done when I laid in this bed hundreds of nights ever since we met.

“How long has it been?” I asked, hugging his body closer to mine, already addicted to the way it felt to have his weight over me. “Ever since you’ve… done this before, I mean.” Henry chuckled, but didn’t immediately answer as he kept himself busy by littering my collarbones with kisses and lovebites, making me offer my chest up to him. When he grasped one of my breasts in his large hand, I couldn’t stop the loud moan that echoed around the room as my heart beated wildly right under his palm.

“I don’t even remember,” he finally answered, but by then, I had all but completely forgot what I’d even asked. He was slowly but surely messing with my mind and my ability to hold coherent thoughts, all I could focus on was the feeling of his cold hands running over my sweaty skin and his lips licking every inch of me. “It doesn’t even matter. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Henry’s P.O.V.

The whine she let out was clearly a complaint and a request in itself, making me chuckle against her delicious skin. “Soon,” I promised, nearing the place I was longing to be. “I need to feel you cumming on my lips, first.”

The sigh she let out as I buried my nose on the small curls just over where her fingers had been buried made it clear that she wasn’t about to complain about my plan, at least for now. Still, I needed her to give me the time I needed to fully appreciate this, so while I caressed her thighs to allow myself the space I needed to work with, I negotiated, “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

She didn’t seem to doubt when I stuck out my tongue and gave her a temptative first lick, immediately groaning at the incomparable sweetness and diving in for more. She gasped and wrapped her thighs around my head, like she wanted to make sure I wouldn’t leave her hanging, but I was sure I’d never leave the space between her legs again.

Sweet, so sweet and wet. I’d spent so long imagining her taste on my tongue, both of her blood and of her juices, and now I knew that she truly was sweet all over. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to pretend I hadn’t tried the god’s ambrosia for the rest of my life, so I sincerely hoped this really meant she truly wanted me forever.

I lost myself to the activity of exploring her pussy with my tongue, eyes closed to better imprint the taste and the sounds she was emitting into the depths of my memory. I was so into my meal, the lapping sounds of her drenched cunt surrounding us and only adding to the powerful symphony of her moans, that when she came, covering my face in her release, I was taken by surprise.

“You know…” She started, as soon as she was able to catch a breath while I sucked the juices dripping from her. “This isn’t the type of eating I expected a vampire to be so good at.” That made me look up to meet her eyes, and the second I did so, taking in the humorous glint in them and the way she pressed her lips tightly together to contain the laughs that were certainly threatening to escape, I lost it.

“I don’t think I ever laughed so much during sex.” I nuzzled in her neck, before depositing a quick kiss on her pouty lips. Her tongue came out to lick them as soon as we parted, like she was chasing away her own taste that I knew was still present in my mouth.

“Then I don’t think you’ve been doing this the right way.” I felt her tiny hands pressing on my shoulders, and it took me a while to figure out she was trying to invert our positions. When I did get it, I allowed my torso to fall on the soft mattress by her side, hands immediately flying up to caress her body as she climbed on me.

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

I groaned as I heard those words, paired with the gentle rock of her wet cunt over my still clothed member. How could one resist such sensuous sin? But I had more pressing needs in the moment, and as I had to remind her, “The night is still young. As tempting as that is… No,  don’t look at me like that. Do you have any idea what you do to me, you little minx? I have to be inside of you now.”

Her eyes made it clear that she didn’t feel all that terrible about my denial, but still, she asked, “Later, then?” Chuckling, I brought her down to whisper in her ear, “ Believe me, we have all the time in the world. You’re not going to sleep anytime soon. I’ll keep you in this bed forever, if I have my way.”

I heard her suck in a breath and I took advantage of the brief moment of surprise that rendered her immobile to drag two fingers along her folds before curling them in. “Oh, wow. Now that is a sight.” Just the tone of perplexity in my voice had her clenching around me, and when I began to laugh yet again, she brace herself on my chest and groaned, “Are you going to fuck me or keep staring?”

I looked up to meet her eyes, making sure she was looking directly at me as I pulled my fingers out and licked them before grabbing a hold of my member and running it over her pussy. “Take a guess.”

The moment that we became fused in the corporeal sense, it became clear to me just how entwined our souls already were. There was no escaping our connection, not anymore. “Does this feel good,” I teased her as she released a particularly high moan, fingers gripping my shoulders tightly as she threw her head back and tried to keep riding me. I took this opportunity to nibble and nip at her jaw and neck, teasing myself with the feeling of her blood pumping right underneath my open mouth.

“Yes, yes,” she screamed, picking up her movements as I kept fucking myself up against her, too. “Deeper, harder, please, Henry!” The desperation in her voice had me roaring, and in a quick movement I had her under me again.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” I whispered under my breath right when she grabbed a hold of my locks and pulled me to meet her lips again. “Are you ready?” I knew she was close by the way she was moaning, and all it took was for her eyes to meet mine so I could feel her clenching around me. “No falling asleep, remember? Or maybe you want me to keep going even if you do end up passing out.” It was just a joke, but her whine made it very clear that she didn’t mind the perspective.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’m right here. I’ll give you everything you want, I’ll be everything you need. For the rest of your life.”

“I know.”