#I was meant to be doing an essay (finished it today) and because I was sick I decided FUCK IT and read TOG

[steelycunt]

GOOD MORNING BLOGGERS!! say it back or i'll cry (*real*)

[aarcanechaoss]

Books 📚

Books I’ve been reading and my thoughts without spoilers

This is to make up for how busy and sick I’ve been

Sarah J Maas books

Okay that feels like an obvious one to recommend with the Throne of Glass, A Court of Thorns and Roses and Crescent City books, being well know but I am doing my rereads of them in preparation for CC book 3

Honestly I really enjoy the world building, the fantasy of it all and how strong the female characters are. There is pretty much no smut in TOG (until book 5 to 7 where there are maybe 3/4 scenes overall). ACOTAR has more smut but it’s not particularly descriptive until book 5 (ACOSF). CC is mostly heavy world building but there is more “adult” stuff throughout.

Ava Reid books

Fantasy, retellings, folklore/ mythology. I really just love her style of writing (and am impatiently waiting for A Study in Drowning @avasreid )

The Wolf and The Woodsman is currently my favourite, I loved how she incorporated the folklore and the world building made me very happy!

The Juniper Tree was dark and beautiful retelling and made me want to go read the Grimm Brothers tale too. I love Marlinchen and Sevas’ relationship and the twist took me off guard.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

A fun fantasy novel with a sassy Revenant and a strong female lead that I just ADORED like I could not put this book down. Like I have nothing more to say that wouldn’t spoil it I loved it! There is no romance or smut just a really good angsty but feel good book.

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

I fell into the hype when I bought the book but honestly really liked it. Violet was a great character and the EDS rep was amazing (my friend has EDS and she was really happy with how it was written) and while there is smut (chapters 30 & 32) and good smut at that there are DRAGONS. That’s all dragons. We love dragons in this household.

Dreadful Desires by Lucy Lark

This is a smutty why choose reverse harem set in Victorian England where some of your favourite dreadful’s come to life and entice you deeply~ side note I have met the author she’s lovely!

Things in Jars by Jess Kidd

This was an interesting book that I would love to see what other people think of. A female detective in the Victorian era, historical fiction with a supernatural twist. No romance or smut but it does blend some cool folklore stuff!

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

Now ignoring that OSC isn’t a particularly good person I did enjoy this book and was good bonding for me and my dad because it was a series (I’ve currently only read book 1) of cool Sci-Fy intrigue. Did I see the twist coming? Yeah I did but to be honest I could have just remembered the movie? Which like I barely remember at all LOL. Good book though if you want some space stuff.

Books I plan to read and / or are on my To Be Read

A Veil of Truth and Trickery by Analeigh Ford (reading right now though I’m also audio hooking the TOG series lol)

The Serpent and The Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent

A Forest of Vanity and Valour by A.P Beswick

The Folk of the Air series by Holly Black (I have read The Cruel Prince)

The Isles of the Gods have Amie Kaufman

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson

Sorcery of Thorns series by Margaret Rogerson

Honestly I think my TBR is too big to remember everything at this point LOL

But someone asked for book recs and here are the ones I’ve read recently that I enjoyed

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[ghosty-writes-23]

A 'Helping' Hand. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Boyfriend!Leon, Sweet fluff, Morning Cuddles, NSFW Content, Switch!Leon, Body Worship, Praise, Eating Out, Blowjob, Riding, Aftercare.

Pairing: Emo!Boy!Leon + Tattoo!Store!Onwer!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: Your sweet boyfriend decides to come and help you at work, but one thing leads to another.

Word Count: 3.9k

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, I’m sorry this post is late, I have been really busy with my course and just finished a 1000-word case study and I’m due to submit a 2200 essay by may and I haven’t even started yet, so I am really sorry I haven’t been updating lately. But I finally posted something, and I plan on posting something short with RE2:R!Leon in a couple of days.

Side note: All the songs mentioned in this one-shot are from 2005 :)

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.

Last night you had received a text from one of your working tattoo artists, that the monthly shipment had arrived at closing time and been brought into the store preventing it from getting stolen, you had sent her a thank you text and told your artist group chat to take the day off, which a few of your younger artists where grateful for because it gave them a chance to catch up on their university studies and you knew some of your other artists had small children as well.

You were happy to give them the day off because it meant that you can restock your tattoo studio in peace because you like things in a certain order.

Hearing the faint tune of Bat Country by Avenged Sevenfold starting to play, sucking in a soft breath you started to stir and felt your boyfriends arm tighten around your waist under the slipknot shirt of his you were wearing, you could hear him softly humming to the song causing you to smile softly even in your sleepy state.

“I have to go in today.” You say as you felt Leon nuzzling into your neck, his snakebite piercing gazing the soft skin of your neck, his nose ring also gently bumping against your neck as well. “5 more minutes.” He deep voice rumbled; his voice was always deeper when he first woke up in the morning.

Reaching over you grabbed your phone and finally turned off your phone alarm before placing it back on your bedside table. “I really have to go.” You playfully argued with him as you knew what the time was, the quicker you got it done the faster you could come home.

“you’re abandoning your boyfriend on his day off work.” Leon pouted as you slipped out from his grasp and comfort of your shared warm bed, you playfully rolled her eyes before she leaned over and gently pushed back his messy dark blonde bed hair and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m such a horrible girlfriend.” You say with a playful grin before you moved away and headed to your shared bathroom to do your morning routine.

You brushed your teeth and hair, took your morning medication, standing in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your freshly cleaned body you did your morning skincare routine, not bothering doing a whole face of makeup, just some concealer, setting powder, mascara, eyeliner and lip balm today since you weren’t seeing clients today and it was too much work in the morning. As you where applying your lip balm you felt Leons arms wrap around your waist.

Looking up at him through the mirror, you could see his messy dark blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, his sweatpants hanging low on his lips, you could see the matching my chemical romance tattoo, it was of the album three cheers for sweet revenge done in the lovers tarot card design, the tattoo was placed on both of your forearms just above your wrists, you had designed the tattoos at Leon’s request.

you could caught a glimpse of Leon’s nose piercing and crooked helix piercing that he pierced himself when you two first started dating, because he wanted to impress you with his piercing ‘skills’ but he ended up at the hospital later that night because his ear swelled up and he was into much pain to drive himself, you always tease him and tell him you count that as your guys first date.

“you didn’t need to get out of bed.” You say applying your lip balm, your eyes were focused on your reflection in the mirror. “I’m come with you.” He says placing a gentle kiss on you neck as he slid his arm around your towel covered waist.

You could see the little tattoos that decorated his arm, some he had before you guys meet and others you had done or covered up. “you don’t have too, it will be boring at the studio today, sleep in today.” You tell him but he shakes his head before he leaned down and softly kisses you.

“Wanna spend time with you.” He says before pulling away as he starts his morning routine of brushing his teeth and then showering, going back into your shared bedroom you decided to wear some leggings, a crop top and Leon’s Metallica hoodie you brought him last year when you went to the concert in your city for your 4-year anniversary.

As you gathered your things you would need for the day Leon came out of the bathroom wearing black ripped skinny jeans and nirvana shirt, his hair had been pushed off his head he looked fully awake now.

“Princess don’t you own your own hoodies.” Leon says with a playful tease that makes you roll your eyes roll slightly. “it’s not your hoodie it’s our hoodie.” You say grinning causing him to roll his eyes as he pulled you into him by your waist.

“you’re lucky your cute.” He mumbles before he kisses you softly the metal rings of his lip piercings pressing into your lips, you kissed him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tippy toes.

The kiss was slow and gentle making your body feel all warm and fuzzy, his kisses always left you breathless and wanting more, but when you felt his tongue piercing graze over your bottom lip you knew you needed to pull away.

“later.” You mumble against his lips before pulling away and grabbing your bag, you could see Leon smiling out the corner of your eye as he grabs his phone and anything else he would need for today.

“I’ll drop you off at the tattoo studio, then go and get coffee for the both of us.” Leon tells you as you both walk out of your shared bedroom and downstairs, you grabbed you bag while Leon grabbed his car keys.

He drove an army green jeep that he had for as long as you have known him, it wasn’t that you didn’t have a license you did, but it was cheaper for you letting your boyfriend drive you everywhere. 

Once you both where out the front door of your apartment you locked the front door then nuzzled into Leon’s arm as he linked your fingers together in his fingerless gloved hand, then you both headed outside into the cold winter morning.

*Skip Car Ride*

Leon had dropped you off at your studio before he went to your favourite café to get you a hot drink for the cold morning, it always warmed your heart with all the little things your boyfriend does for you, it makes you really appreciate him and want to do the same for him in return.

Unlocking the door to your studio you walked inside and flicked on the lights seeing all the boxes in the front, you knew this was going to take a while but you didn’t mind.

Placing your bag and keys in your tattooing area, you went and turned on the heaters and the stereo so there was some music playing so it wasn’t completely quiet, grabbing your list you went to make sure you had everything you ordered before you started to pack it away, because last time there where a few things missing from your monthly order.

20 minutes into checking everything you heard the front door open and the familiar sound of Leon’s voice as he curses under his breath at the cold weather, as he shook some snow off his hair as he held a tray of hot drinks. You placed your list down and smiled softly walking over to him.

“thank you.” You say as you took the hot drink from the tray, you could smell the chocolate and coffee before you took your first sip, a soft hum leaving your lips. “how is the restock going?” Leon asks as he sips his own drink, he followed you into your tattooing area where most of the boxes were.

“So far we have everything on the list, which is good I just have a couple more boxes to check then I can start packing everything away.” You say as you set your drink down and grabbed your list again.

“why don’t you check those boxes and I’ll start packing things away.” Leon suggests as he came and rested his head on your shoulder, his eyes glancing over the list of items. “I can do it myself, it your day off work.” You say to him slightly stubbornly.

Leon works as a music store manager that sold CD’s, record and music instruments, his boss liked him a lot and let Leon be flexible with his hours, when he wasn’t working at the music store he was helping you out in the tattoo studio, either packing things away or being on the front desk.

“I know but I like to help.” Leon says as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, smiling softly at his small affection, it always warmed your heart when Leon helped you out even if it was with something small. “okay, thank you.” You say giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before he went to start packing things away.

*Sometime Later*

After finally packing all your shipped supplies away correctly, you found yourself pinned against the wall with Leon’s hands holding your wrists above your head as he kissed you sweetly but need, his pierced tongue tangling with yours causing sweet moans to leave your lips. You couldn’t focus on anything else other than the touch of your boyfriends, which was causing your mind to race and your heart to beat out of your chest, feeling him pull away slightly a soft whine left your lips causing him to chuckle slightly.

“Somebody is a little eager.” Leon softly teases you eve when his blue eyes held the look of lust, want, need and desire, you could also see the warmth, affection and love, feeling his thumb and index finger softly grab your chin and pulled your face back to his kissing your slightly swollen and bruised lips, with his free hand he used it to unzip his Metallica hoodie you were wearing.

It slipped off your shoulders and down your arms with ease, falling onto the floor behind you. Breaking the kiss Leon let go of your wrists and tugged off his nirvana shirt and tossed it onto the ground beside him. “somebody’s eagerly.” You playfully tease him back causing a smile on his pierced lips, because you knew you were both as needy as each other in this moment. “only for you princess.” He says slyly as he lifted your crop off your body leaving you in just your bra and leggings.

“such a romantic.” You say with a smile as you bit your bottom lip, you could feel his pierced lips on your neck as he was leaving a soft trail of kisses on your skin, you knew there would be marks left there but at this moment you didn’t care. His kisses trailed from your jawline to your neck, to your shoulder, your collarbones then to your chest to where he started kissing lower as he sunk down on his knees in front of you, placing gentle open mouth kisses on your stomach as his fingers toyed with the waist band of your leggings.

You knew when Leon went down on you it wasn’t for your pleasure but for his own, he could do it for hours if you would let him, he always leaves you overstimulated, trembling and a mess but deep down you love it. Your fingers found there way to his dark blonde hair, it was soft and slightly damp from his shower this morning, he gave you a small grin as he placed a kiss over your slick core over your leggings making a slight blush come onto your cheeks, before he gently tugged them down.

“No panties, dirty girl.” Leon clicks his tongue, but you saw his tongue wet the bottom of his lip, you had decided to not wear panties today because it was more comfortable going commando in some leggings than it was in others, and it wasn’t like you were seeing clients today.

You could hear his tongue piercing hitting the metal of his lip rings as he admired your glistening pussy. Leon leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your clit, making a soft moan leave your lips before you spread your legs a little to give him better access, he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, his large hand supporting your thigh before his blue eyes meet yours again.

It was almost as if he was asking for permission before he touched you in any intimate way which made your heart race even more, you nodded your head trying to back the smile threatening to fall from your lips, before he dived in and feasted on your soaked core as if he was a starved man and this was his last meal, causing soft moans to leave your lips as you buck your hips slightly.

His tongue lapped at your folds, his eyes were closed in pure bliss as if he was lost in his own little world, you could feel the cool feeling of his tongue piercing jewelry and eve his lip rings grazing your soaked pussy, you could hear him humming and even grunting as he slurped softly. Reaching a hand down you gently pushed his dark blonde hair out of his face, you could see a faint blush on his cheeks as he pulled away slightly breathing heavily.

Just as you were about to ask him what he was doing, but he used his index finger and his middle finger to spread your folds. “beautiful.” He commented before he leaned forward and sucked on your clit causing a soft cry to leave your lips as a tremble ran through your body,

“Fuck Leon.” You cursed throwing your head back against the wall, as you rocked your hips against his face, he didn’t even need to use his fingers to make you cum, he knew your body like the back of his hand. You could feel the familiar feeling tightening in your stomach as your eyes rolled back slightly, your thighs began to tremble more as your moans became more whinner and slightly high pitched.

“cum for me princess.” He says against your soaked core, you could feel yourself clenching around nothing. “cumming.” You softly moaned as you came with a soft whine on your boyfriends tounge, feeling your legs get weak but Leon's hand came up to your hips as he helped steady you.

After riding out your orgasm you pulled him down to you and kissed him deeply, your tongue tangle with his you could taste yourself, but you didn’t care.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you breathing heavily there was a small grin on his face, but you could see the lust swimming in his blue eyes. “my turn.” You tell him before he could protest you sunk down to your knees, you could see the bulge in his skinny jeans, reaching up you undid his belt and unzipped and unbuttoned the front before tugging his jeans down his thighs.

You could see the small wet patch of pre-cum on his boxers, looking up you could see his cheeks burning slightly, causing a sense of power to wash over you are knowing you’re the only one that can make Leon feel like this. You looked up at him in your eyes asking for permission like he had done for you, he gave you a nod as his hand found its way to your hair to make a makeshift ponytail, to keep your hair out of your face and eyes.

You carefully hooked your fingers into his boxers before tugging them down, causing Leon’s harden cock to spring free, a soft groan leaving his lips at the cold air hit him.

Giving him a soft smile you ran your tongue up the side of his cock before you wrapped your pillowy lips around him and began to bob your head at a steady rhythm, while placing your thighs on his thighs for some stability, he was heavy on your tounge, but the weight always brought you a sense of comfort.

“good girl.” Leon praised you making a soft blush to come onto your face as you bobbed your head, he would occasionally hit the back of your throat. “feels so good.” He grunted but you would hear a high pitch whine leave his throat. You decided to suck your cheeks in causing a soft cry to leave his lips as he slightly bucked his hips as well. “your mouth should be a sin.” He softly panted his hand slightly tighten around your hair causing you to groan softly around him.

“You close baby.” You asked pulling away but you used your hands to pump his cock, you knew he was close he was twitching in your hands, he nodded his head quickly as a soft cry left his lips, taking his cock back into your mouth you pushed him as far as you could in your throat, causing small tears to run down your cheeks as there is a slight pain in your jaw, but you ignore the pain to give your boyfriend the same pleasure he gave you.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” He moaned before you felt him shoot down your throat, a soft moaning sound left your lips before you sucked in your cheeks as you slowly pulled away from him and released him with a soft pop.

He was breathing heavily with a blush on his face, Taking his hand you lead Leon could of the small supply closet to your more spacious studio area, where you gently pushed him onto the couch and straddles his waist.

His large hands immediately found their way to your hips giving them a loving squeeze, reaching to your bag on the end of the couch, you pulled out a familiar square. But ask you where about to open it Leon took it from you. “Let me.” He says taking the condom packet from you and tearing it open with his teeth,

After couple minutes of awkward moving and some giggling from you, Leon finally got the condom on without your assistants, he took his harden cock and gave your soaked core a few taps causing you to moan soft, He had applied some lube before just as a safety precaution because he didn’t want to hurt you, even if you insisted that you would be ok, he didn’t want to hurt his precious girlfriend.

“am I good to go doll?” Leon asked you as he gave your hips a soft squeeze, it always filled your heart with so much joy when Leon asked for permission for anything like this, you nodded your head biting your lip, you could see him grinning before he slowly pushed into your glistening core causing a moan to leave both of your lips at the familiar stretch as Leon buried himself fully inside you.

Wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, a soft tremble ran through your body as one of his hands stayed on your hips to help guide your movements while the other went to back of your neck keeping your body close to his. “feel so good princess.” Leon grunted against you; his voice was deeper than normal causing you to clench around him as his thrusted up his hips.

You moved your hips slightly meeting his thrusts, moans falling from both your lips as you both lost yourselves in the pleasure of pleasing each other, your hips moving in time with his, he filled you up in way you only dreamed your fingers could reach when he wasn’t around, it was like you were made for each other. “Leon.” You moaned his name as you felt as if your mind was getting foggy and hazy from the pleasure you were both experiencing.

You moaned out loud as you rested your forehead against his, your eyes where closed and your bottom lip in between you top row of teeth, Leon’s thrusts where sweet but hard causing soft squeals to leave your throat, when suddenly you are pushed into the couch it was soft against your bare skin and your legs where now on Leon’s shoulder, but before you could protest a loud moan left your lips at the new angle, causing Leon to go deeper.

You could feel yourself tightening around him and your eyes rolling back slightly, he always knew how to drive you wild, weather it was when he would let you do anything you wanted to him, or even he was rough like this knowing deep down no matter what side it was you loved this man with all your heart even when he tells you stupid jokes from time to time.

“You close Y/n?” Leon grunted and all you could do was nod your head as you looked up at him, your thighs where trembling against him as your toes curled, at this point you knew your making up from this morning was running down your cheeks, but you didn’t care.

“cum for me like a good girl.” Leon says as he leaned forward and kissed you as he thrusts into you roughly but somehow sweetly, your moans are muffled by his lips but you cum around him with a soft cry, his praise sending a shiver down your spine, he soon followed spilling into the condom.

As you came down from both your high’s Leon pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers softly with a gentle smile; you smile up at him and softly kissing his nose.

“I love you to.” You said with a bliss filled smiled but soon the romance and sweet moment is ruined when you hear somebody clear their throat, looking over Leon’s shoulder you saw Jennifer one of your best friends and tattoo artists looking at the both of you with a smug grin on her face as she leaned against the door.

“I’m happy you guys have such a deep love for each other, but next time you decided to fuck at work can you please close the door, because I don’t need to see my boss getting screwed by her boyfriend at 11 o’clock in the morning.” Jennifer's says causing a blush to colour both yours and Leon's cheeks at her comments.

“Sorry Jen.” You say with a soft giggle, but she gave you a wink before she pushes herself off the door. “I’ll be expecting a bonus next week.” She jokes as she gives you one last look before she leaves.

Hearing her leave both you and Leon couldn’t help but laugh. “this is your fault.” You softly poked Leon’s chest causing him to laugh slightly.

“fine I’ll take responsibility this time, but next time I won’t be so nice.” He says pulling you into his chest as he pulls a blanket over you both that is usually kept on the end of the couch for when you take naps at work.

“I look forward to it.” You smirked before nuzzling into his chest, he just laughed and rested his chin on your head as you both fell into a peaceful slumber…

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!Good Enough One-shot Update!: Its coming I have only recent had the time to start it but the ball is rolling finally, I can’t give a time when it will be posted but I am working on it when I have spare time, also there will be a name change but deciding on the name now and creating the banner.

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[holylulusworld]

Stuck on you

Summary: Dean can be annoying as fuck. But you're stuck on him.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader (fem)

Warnings: a/b/o, needy Dean, annoying Dean, fluff, cuddling & snuggling

“Dean, can you just not?” You groan and roll your eyes as Dean paces around the library. He glances at the book in your hands like it's an enemy he wants to kill. “What?”

“Do you read that book or just look at it?” He cocks his head when you slam the book shut. Crap, you’re mad.

“Dean Winchester, there are no pictures in the book. Do you think I just stare at the words and wait for them to crawl inside my brain?”

“That’s a funny thought,” he nods slowly. “Imagine, the words just jump at you and nestle in your brain. Would be cool.”

“You’d find it cool only because you hate reading,” you point the book at him. “Now stop distracting me. I try to get this essay done.”

“Why do you write an essay?” He sits on the table to run his fingertips over your thigh. “We could have a movie night or dinner in bed.”

“I need to finish this one because I want that degree,” you stick your tongue out when he rolls his eyes. “Remember, I told you that I want to be more than a huntress one day. The degree is important to me, and I expect you to support me.”

“I do, but—” his eyes drop to your cleavage, and Dean forgets what he wanted to say. He’s close to his rut and in need of cuddles. Dean is simply too proud to ask you to stop reading and start taking care of your alpha.

“Why did I let you claim me again?” You grin at Dean. He tries to hide his neediness and fails epically. You’re an evil bitch and love to tease your alpha. “I can’t believe my alpha is not supporting me.”

“Sweetheart,” he stammers. “I always support you. You know that. It’s just…I need … uh … your help with something.”

“How about you go to your Dean cave and let me read for another hour?” You fake that you are angry and pout. You need Dean to leave so you can take care of him later.

Dean sighs deeply but nods.

“Fine,” he hangs his head and hops off the table. Dean leaves the library without trying to get you to follow him. He knows when he’s not wanted…

“Why are you calling me? We live in the same place,” Dean asks while walking toward your shared room. He pouts as he enters the room. “Y/N?”

You hang up the phone to pat the spot next to you on your bed. “I thought we could have a movie night and…” You lick your lips, “I’m in need of cuddles and I brought all the nice blankets here.”

“Cuddles, huh?” He closes the door, considering his next step. The book you read lies abandoned on your nightstand. He glares at it and sticks his tongue out. “I’ll give the best cuddles and hugs.

“I know, alpha,” you croon. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how good you can cuddle me.”

Dean cockily smirks. He kicks off his shoes and strips his clothes off.

“I will cuddle you so good you’ll be a mess when I’m done with you.”

You chuckle. “I meant cuddling, not sex.”

He crawls onto the bed and under the covers to pounce on you. You end up on top of Dean, with his arms slung tightly around your body.

“Better?”

“Better,” he nuzzles you. “I have missed you today, sweetheart. Is all.”

“You’ve got me, Dean. Always…”  

[vhagarlovebot]

THE WAY I FEEL INSIDE.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: you’ve been in love with aemond targaryen ever since your second year at boarding school, the only problem is that he doesn’t know it and you’ve never been good at lying to him.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, pining, hurt/comfort, love confessions, mentions of alcohol, swearing, basically two idiots in love. it is a little bit long.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually written thinking about remus lupin and i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

THE GREAT HALL IS A MESS in the morning and does not help with the migraine you woke up with, therefore you can’t focus on an essay that’s due today. it does not help that your friends are laughing and talking with each other either, it’s not like you’re good at paying attention to one thing when there’s a lot going on right next to you, so your attention shifts away to them not really listening to what they’re saying.

you’re still with your hands on your head looking directly at the book you have in front, trying to sort out the mess, when cregan’s voice startles you.

“you alright, love?” he asks from his seat in front of you, the hint of a smirk on his face.

“jus’ trying to finish this essay.” you say softly, closing the book and rubbing your tired eyes with the palm of your hand.

“i thought you finished it last night.” baela says, turning her head, body facing cregan. “you need help?”

“not really,” you give her a tired smile. “m’just tired, i didn’t sleep well last night.”

whatever baela says you can’t hear it because from the corner of your eyes you see aemond’s tall body getting closer to the table and sitting next to you. twenty minutes ago he was sitting at that same spot but left without saying a word, causing everyone to worry.

“here,” aemond gives you something, looking down you see a white pill in his open palm. “s’going to make you feel better.”

you don’t say anything, you just stare at those bright blue eyes and blushed cheeks. and he stares back, not paying attention to anyone but you.

you didn’t think aemond could do anything else to show how much he cares about you, but you were proved wrong. something as simple as this has your heart beating fast and tears filling your eyes, and you’re extra aware that he can hear the thump thump thump of your heart as much as you can see the frown that has taken over his face.

and you’re also aware your friends are watching, so you take a deep breath and the pill still sitting on his hand.

“always taking care of me, aem, thank you.” you mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.

you walk slowly through the halls, head in the clouds.

you were able to finish the essay on time, the migraine long gone, and the only reason you managed to do it was thanks to aemond because if he hadn’t gone to the infirmary then you’d still be sitting in the great hall eating your brains out.

at the thought of your best friend a smile makes its way on your face.

ever since you have known aemond he’s always been extra careful with you, extra attentive, extra caring. and you’re pretty sure it started during second year in boarding school when your parents sent you a letter saying they would not be home for christmas, which meant you had nowhere to go and no other option but to stay at the school alone. aemond was sitting close to you that day and saw the way you tried to hide your sadness with a small smile but weren’t able to keep the tears from falling, and when you left in such a hurry that you didn’t notice you had dropped the letter on your way out, that’s exactly when he decided to persuade his friends to stay. he didn’t mind lying or spending christmas at the school, he just wanted to see the pretty girl smile again.

you met the targaryens on christmas day your second year at boarding school when they were some of the few students who stayed too, and it was one of the best thing that ever happened in your life.

you fell in love with aemond targaryen on christmas day your second year at boarding school, though at that time you didn’t know and refused to accept it until fifth year.

you two fell into a routine in which you were a walking mess and he was right there next you ready to help you, or be a mess with you. always making sure you eat all your meals after he saw how on fourth year you stopped going to breakfast choosing to go straight to classes and how you always stayed at the library until there was no one left, so you were free to go to your dorm without worried glances from your friends. that was until you came down from the girls dormitories one morning, knowing everyone was at the great hall, everyone except aemond who was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs with an apple and a juice box in his right hand, and a shy smile on his face. always making sure you understood everything your professors said. always waiting for you after one particular class you two did not share once he witnessed some girls being mean to you. and you were always happy to lie next to him when he was feeling grouchy and scared, giving him comforting words and tracing the scar on his face, making him hide under his pillow with blushed cheeks; he looked after you and you looked after him, that’s your friendship. you always tried to convince yourself it was just a friend worrying for a friend, when in fact you were head over heels in love with the boy.

there have been a few occasions where all you wanted to do was tell him how much you love him; a lot more than a best friend should love her best friend. but every time you decided to finally do it, still afraid you would ruin the friendship but unable to hide how much you were feeling, something that would leave you with scattered pieces of your heart in your hands happened. because with each passing year while the feeling inside of you grew, and it grew and it grew, aemond showed you he didn’t feel the same way. and you knew he never did it on purpose, how could he if he didn’t know you were in love with him while he snogged different girls, running to talk to you about it and breaking your heart. you didn’t think you’d hate lying so much, but every time he sought advice from you, you hated every word that came out of your mouth, you hated the forced smile on your face, you hated how your eyes welled up with tears when he told you alys rivers stopped him after classes to tell him how handsome he looked that day, batting her eyelashes then coyly hiding behind her books. you hate how your chest physically aches when there is a party in the common hall because it means you’d have to see him flirt with a different girl all night. and that’s exactly why you stopped going to parties, giving a different excuse every time someone asked.

so you convinced yourself that everything you could ever have from aemond is his everlasting friendship. and that is better than not having aemond at all.

your walk comes to a stop when you see your friends sitting in the grass at the rugby pitch, in the distance cregan is giving his team a talk before the game, looking rather annoyed.

“cregan’s going to kill you if you don’t take this game seriously.” you say looking at your raven-haired friend, tossing your bag and sitting next to helaena. at this, jace throws you a half-eaten chocolate before taking his things and jogging to his friend.

“where were you?” baela asks, titling her head.

“professor gerardys wanted help with something, i said yes for a few extra points.” you shrug, bringing the chocolate to your mouth while looking around. instant regret crosses your features at the sight of your best friend sitting a few meters away with a bunch of people, his arm around alys river’s shoulders.

luke follows your gaze. “it looks like she finally took the courage to ask him out.”

“she asked him out!?” your voice comes out a little too loud for your liking and you really don’t like the look of pity that comes into your girl friends eyes. “well, it was about damn time.” you chuckle, though your friends know the reality behind those words.

“you coming tonight?” helaena asks, changing the subject and rubbing your arms, but looking straight ahead to baela, who is making fun of something luke said. “i think it’ll make you feel better,” her smile is pleading. “y´know you need it, forget the books for one night.”

you look at aemond one more time. “i think i deserve it.”

you are laughing as baela explains to two boys how jace was the one who helped win the match. “no, no! you don’t understand how important it is that jace did that,” she exclaims. “if he had gone to the left, then we wouldn’t be here.” the silver-haired shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink.

“i think they get it, baels.” you roll your eyes, rubbing shoulders with her. “don’t you, boys?” they nod eagerly, hiding their faces behind the cups filled with liquor.

your conversation is interrupted by someone leaning against the wall next to you. “hey, you.” aemond speaks after a moment of silence. “i didn’t think you’d be coming.”

“if you want i can go back to my dorm.” you mumble, trying to avoid his gaze. you know you shouldn’t be so cold with him, after all he’s done nothing to have you reacting this way, at least not something he’s aware of.

“that’s not what i said.” you’re not looking at him but you can sense the frown on his face. “i’m happy you’re here, i can’t remember when was the last time we party together.”

“well, i’m here now.” you clear your throat. “were you with alys rivers today?” you definitely shouldn’t have asked, you don’t even want to talk about it. you would rather hear about how jace is the best player on his team than to hear about how the older girl is stealing your best friend’s heart when you wish you were her. you want your heart to stop hurting and your mind to stop creating scenarios in which it is you who’s feeling the warm emanating from his body, the owner of his laugh… his heart.

“you saw us?” he doesn’t sound surprised.

“s’not like you two were being quiet.” you shrug, taking a sip of your beer.

“we all saw you.” baela explains, interrupting the conversation in your favor. “are you two like… together?” she asks what’s been going through your mind all day but were too afraid to ask.

aemond goes silent and all the blood leaves your face. that’s it, this is the final confirmation you needed to let aemond go—not like he was yours to lose—and you don’t want to hear it. your heart has been crushed so many times through the years you don’t think you could handle it one more time.

you straighten your shoulders and smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “if you’ll excuse me.” you try to fight the feeling that has settled in your belly, pushing away the pain in your chest, but it gets harder every second. you would think time would make it easier.

you try to hide the sound of your heart breaking by walking away, but aemond is having none of it. he grabs your wrist and you’re forced to stay right where you are. but you’re afraid. you fear that the longer you spend with aemond, the more emotionally unstable you become, eventually exposing yourself and your true feelings.

baela excuses herself, leaving you and your best friend alone, though the common hall is full, it feels like it is just the two of you.

“are you feeling alright?” he asks, confused. “you want me to go to the infirmary again? i’m sure they will ha—”

“jus’ stop it!” you cut him off, pushing him away.

he whispers your name. “i’m just trying to—”

“i didn’t ask you.”

“well, ouch.” aemond takes a step back, looking at you like you have two heads coming out of your body. “i know you didn’t ask me, but i want to.”

“m’not your fucking problem.” you mutter bitterly to yourself, but he hears it.

“did i do something to upset you?” he asks, genuinely worried. you can see the gears moving inside his head, like he’s really trying to remember what did he do.

you know you’re acting this way guided by your feelings and aemond has nothing, but everything actually, to do with it.

you take a deep breath. “i’m sorry, i’m not feeling well today.” you shake your head, taking two careful steps towards him. “you did nothing. i just need to lay down, i’ll see you in the morning.” you assure him with a smile.

but again, he’s grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “i can go up with you.”

“you should worry about your girlfriend.” you nod, looking over his shoulder at alys rivers, who’s not even trying to hide the scowl on her face.

he doesn’t even look. “but you need me.”

he doesn’t deny it.

aemond doesn’t deny she’s his girlfriend.

“i don’t need you.” you get out of his grip and he doesn’t stop you.

once you are out of sight, you let all the tears fall.

you don’t know what time it is, but you still hear the music echoing. sighing, you roll on your back ready to go back to sleep when you hear what woke you up again. you can barely hear the thud coming from outside the dorm and the first thing that comes into your mind is that one of the girls is trying to open the door but is too drunk to do it, so you get out of bed.

there is, indeed, someone drunk behind the door. but this person has silver hair and blue eyes that, you are sure, look into your soul.

you suddenly remember you cried yourself to sleep and if he weren’t too drunk he’d notice how red your eyes are.

“what are you doing here, aemond?” you ask, helping him to his feet and inside your dorm.

“why do you hate me so much?” he drags the words, and you can smell the whisky every time he opens his mouth.

“i don’t hate you, silly.” you couldn’t help but laugh, carrying him to your bed. “maybe i do hate you a little bit right now. how much did you drink?”

“don’t know, lost the count.” he smiles while looking at you. “would you lay down with me?”

“okay, jus’ let me take off your shoes.” he keeps staring at you while you help him get rid of his jacket and shoes, he even smiles every time you make eye contact.

once you’re lying on your bed again, aemond turns to you. “why were you crying?” it doesn’t surprise you, really, he’s always been extra observant.

“i had a bad migraine.” you shrug, avoiding his gaze. but his slender fingers on your chin make you look directly at him. you try to steady your heart, pounding in your chest so hard you know he can hear it.

“yea’ right.” aemond mocks you. “after that pill i gave you this morning there’s no way you still had it.”

“maybe it wasn’t as effective as you thought.”

“would you stop for a second?” he grimaces, bringing his hands to his temple. “i can’t think straight and you already have my mind going in circles.”

“what does that mean?”

he sighs, caressing your cheek. “you don’t even notice.”

“notice what?” you ask, confused. he’s drunk and talking nonsense, and having him so close to you isn’t helping.

“that i’m—” he whispers, not breaking eye contact, air tick between the two of you. a part of you hopes his next words are the ones you were dying to hear for so long. you also hope you’re not dreaming when you see him lower his gaze to your lips. you’re extra aware of the proximity, you feel his breath on your face, combination of alcohol, cigarettes and just aemond. he parts his lips and you instantly close your eyes. “m’going to be sick.”

“what?” you open your eyes only to miss his warmth.

aemond rushes to the bathroom, face pale. you know he’s throwing up before you even get out of bed, and it doesn’t take long for you to be by his side.

aemond whines when you try to get closer, a wet cloth in hand. “don´t.”

“i’ll always hold your hand, aem.” you whisper, reminding him of the words he’s said to you a bunch of times. when you get closer again he doesn’t say anything and just lets you do your thing. “this is goin’ to make you feel better.” you say quietly, filling a glass of water and kneeling beside him.

aemond groans, resting against the wall behind him. you do the same. “you know,” he turns his head to you. “you are really, really pretty.”

your cheeks go red immediately and you know aemond notices that too, so you try to look somewhere else but his hands on your jaw don’t let you. and so you find yourself looking straight into his blue eyes, full of something you can’t figure it out. but he stares at you for a long time, or maybe it's just seconds, but you feel like he spends hours smiling at you with his eyes slightly closed, like you’re going to vanish if he stops and leave him there on the bathroom floor feeling pathetic.

“and you are really, really drunk.” your voice is barely a whisper, still looking at him.

“you don’t believe me? you don’t believe me.” he shakes his head, the smile growing. “you’re so oblivious.”

“m’not!” you complain, pulling his hand away.

you really don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t need to know that. he also does not need to know you’re feeling those familiar butterflies in your belly, the ones that appeared the first time he held your hand, leaving your entire body tingling.

“i should kiss you right now to see how oblivious you are after.” aemond says casually, as if he didn’t just say what you think he did.

“wh—what?” this time your eyes are fix on the bathroom floor; the tiles are more interesting than his eyes. oh but you know if you look at him again you’ll be completely lost. you know he’s drunk and saying things he doesn’t really feel because he doesn’t feel that way about you, right? suddenly, your eyes are on him again. “don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“but i mean it.” his eyes dart to your lips. when he looks up again, he realizes he’s been caught. “do you want to kiss me, sweet girl?” aemond moves closer, his face inches away from yours. of course you want to kiss him, you’ve been dreaming of it for years, and even in those dreams, it didn’t feel this surreal.

“why don’t you ask me again when you’re sober?” you shake your head, a smile making its way on your face. “and your breath stinks, by the way.”

aemond laughs, resting his head on your shoulder. your heart skips a beat because he doesn’t say anything, and when you are going to speak again not knowing exactly what to say but wanting to hear something from him, anything that could tell you how he really feels, aegon appears in the doorway.

“hey, lover boy, it’s time to go.” he kneels in front of you and his brother just groans, hiding behind your hair and inhaling your perfume.

“you smell nice.” the smile on his face is one of drunkenness.

and when you witness how aemond can barely stand, your heart breaks into tiny pieces. maybe aemond was just drunk, maybe he just wanted to kiss you because you were the only girl with him. you weren’t aemond’s first choice; you were his last.

you wake up feeling a little optimistic. you don’t know if aemond really meant what he said, but you are ready to face whatever his words may be, even if those words break your heart.

none of your friends are in the common hall when you go downstairs and, in all honesty, you don’t want to look for them, there's only one person in your head and you’re going to find him before all bravery leaves your body.

you are smiling widely when you step into the great hall, familiar faces sitting at the table but not the one you’re looking for. your smile falters when you get closer to your friends, all of them laughing and talking about the party last night. maybe he’s still asleep, maybe you’ll grab some food and bring it to him. maybe you could do that if he wasn’t sitting next to alys rivers at her table.

tears fill your eyes as you hear helaena’s voice calling your name, but all your attention is on aemond and the smile adorning his face. all you can hear before running out of there it’s his laugh. of course he wasn’t thinking straight, what were you thinking? he’s so charming and handsome, always helping others, always smelling good, always flirting with pretty girls in the hallways, always enjoying his popularity. he’s tall, agile and strong, smart; of course he needs a girl that can match with him, his needs. and you’re not that girl. you’re not popular, most of the time you are running late to classes, asking help from others, you don’t do sports and it shows, it’s a miracle if a boy flirts with you and if a boy does it, most of the time it’s because him or his friends want you to introduce them to your girlfriends. you are not that pretty either, you have bags under your eyes, you barely do make up and your hair is a disaster. what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

you barely make it to the stairs leading to your dorm when a hand grabs your wrist, heavy breathing behind you. “wait!”

“sorry, i forgot something,” you say quickly, wiping your tears with your free hand. “i’ll be back in a minute.”

he lets you go and you run to the stairs, before his words stop you. “i was really drunk las’ night, wasn’t i?”

“yes.” you say with a bitter laugh.

“shit— i think i threw up in your bathroom.” he laughs, and you hear his footsteps getting closer. “sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s okay.” you smile even though he can’t see your face. “i need to grab this thing before class, you know how profess—“

“i’m sober now.”

your heart stops beating, everything around you stops. did you hear him right? you don’t dare to move, you can’t.

what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

“but i saw you with al—”

“she’s barely a friend.” he explains. “i don’t know if what you said last night was because you didn’t know how to reject me,” he starts saying, moving closer and closer to you. “but i’m here anyway. i can’t hide what i feel inside me anymore.” and that’s when you turn around.

he’s a few feet away, fidgeting with his hands and looking at you with that same something you saw last night.

“i’ve loved you since the first time i saw you. when—”

“when we met on second year.” you interrupt him, cocking your head to the side. of course you remember, because the letter you got from your parents that year was the reason your whole friendship started. you just can’t believe what you are hearing. now the tears streaming down your face have a different reason, one you did not think was possible.

he smiles sheepishly at you. “no—that was not the first time i saw you.” he scratches the back of his neck, meeting your gaze. “i saw you the first day of school, on the train. you were sitting next to baela and i remember thinking ‘god, i’ve never seen such a beautiful girl before’” he takes one step forward. “i remember thinking i was seeing an angel.” he chuckles, his face red and eyes glistening. “i’m seeing one right now.”

you can’t see due to the cascade coming from your eyes, you try to wipe it, only for them to be replaced with more tears. you didn’t think you could smile this big, to feel this happy, to feel this loved.

“i remember seeing you in classes, in the hallways… always so pretty.” he takes another step, this time only looking at your eyes, not fidgeting with his hands, not uncertainty in his words. “i was a silly, silly boy back then and didn’t know how to talk to you, so when on second year you got that letter,” he looks shy, his eyes meeting the floor. “i took it and convinced the boys to persuade our parents to stay. i wanted to stay with you, i wanted to see you smile again and—when i saw the smile you gave me, it was all worth it.”

you rush to him, face wet and blushed, and a heart beating so fast you think it’s going to explode. locking your arms around his neck, you softly press your lips to his in a kiss full of unspoken words, full of passion and love and tenderness. you are both crying and it’s wet, but oh so perfect.

“you love me?” you ask, smiling with teeth. you have never been so happy before, you have never felt so safe in someone’s arms as you feel in aemond’s; you have never felt so in love with aemond targaryen as you feel right now.

“i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you.” aemond murmurs, lips curled in a grin, arms around your waist making you feel those butterflies you’ve experienced through the years once more.

“and i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you, aemond targaryen.” you say softly, caressing his cheek. a new set of tears already falling down your face. “always have been.”

[rentsturner]

If you’ve a lesson to teach me… - AT

professor!alex turner x fem!reader

Warnings: established student/teacher relationship, smut, spanking (with a riding crop), oral (male receiving), tiny bit of face fucking, bdsm undertones, unprotected piv sex, sir kink, alex has tattoos, aftercare, teensy bit of angst but lots of fluff, cuddling.

A/n: this is from a request where reader gets a bad grade and Alex ‘punishes’ her. It’s very smutty, but there’s fluff at the end I promise. Thank you as always to my bestie @martinipoliz who wrote like 25% of this fic and is always putting up with me and my moods, couldn’t do it without her. As always, if you don’t like it, don’t read it :)

Today is the day.

The day that you’ve been dreading all week and wishing it wouldn’t come, but it still has.

Last month, Alex gave your class a task which was due last week, and you had barely submitted it on time. Three minutes before the deadline, you were just so relieved that you finished the essay, but not without receiving a disapproving look from Alex as he took the paper from your hands.

To say that you’re nervous about your grade would be an understatement.

You’re fucking terrified.

It was unlike anything Alex had ever given before, and you’re not going to deny that you did struggle a bit coming to terms with some of the subject matter, so that it took you way too long to finally understand it, and even longer to come up with sentences that didn’t sound like absolute dogshit.

You had even tried asking Alex to maybe help you in some parts but then immediately backtracked when he gave you a stern stare that meant you can do this yourself, and so you accepted your fate and gave everything you could and hoped for a miracle.

And who are you kidding? That miracle did not happen.

Because the essay lands on your desk, a large red B- staring up at you, and suddenly getting swallowed by the ground doesn’t sound too bad at the moment.

For you, a B- isn't necessarily bad, but it’s not as good as you usually do. And you know for certain that Alex is not happy with it, by the way he sighs as he hands you the paper and looks down at you pointedly. He taps the ‘B-’ with one long finger.

“Not quite up to your usual standard, sweetheart.” he mutters, quiet enough just for you to hear, and your ears turn red in embarrassment.

And then he’s off, hurriedly handing out the rest of the papers and giving praise to other students, and your heart sinks. To top it all off, you hear him saying “good job, darling,” to the girl sitting at the front while you got nothing. Not even a mere good job too.

You rifle through the pages of your essay, reading Alex’s comments written in red pen. Most of them are constructive criticism, things that you can improve on quite easily, except for the note at the bottom of the page: ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’.

You sit through the rest of the class nervously, hands fidgeting, struggling to keep still. Alex notices your restlessness and sends you a stern look from the front of the class. Your stomach twists and clenches just thinking about what he might have planned for you, it’s making you hot and bothered just thinking about it, as well as incredibly nervous.

Alex has talked about punishment before, it’s come up a few times in the relationship that you’ve been having for the past four months. He’s rather very good at communicating and negotiating stuff with you, telling you to be open to him without feeling any shame, and you did.

You told him about the things you wanted to try out and he listened, nodded, indulged your fantasies without making you feel judged or walking on eggshells. Your confession ranged from giving him full authority over you during sex, to negotiating what kind of punishments you’d be comfortable with when you misbehaved. It seems that conversation will be coming in useful now.

Finally, Alex wraps up the class and dismisses the other students. You slowly pack up your notes and pens, waiting patiently for everyone else to filter out the class before making your way to Alex’s desk.

He’s piling up his papers, the sleeves of his white dress shirt neatly rolled up to the elbows.

When your shadow crosses over his desk, he looks up at you. His eyes are soft, but you can tell he’s disappointed.

“I know it was a hard paper, but I did expect better from you, darling.”

“I tried, Al, I promise, I just -”

“Maybe you need a reminder of how hard you should be working. You don’t get to coast in this class just because you’re fucking me. Handing it in with 3 minutes to go wasn’t acceptable either.” He raises his eyebrow at you before going back to stacking his papers.

You stay quiet, guilt and embarrassment rolling in your stomach. He’s right. You’re usually better than this, maybe you have taken your foot off the pedal the last few weeks. It wasn’t like you to hand in papers late, or struggle to write about a subject that you love. But you had been tired recently, it was getting to that time of year where everyone starts to burn out, you included.

Alex seems to notice your silence. He stops messing with his papers and places one hand on your shoulder, brushing his thumb gently along your skin.

“Look, I am a little disappointed in you, darling, and I admit that I expected better. But don’t mistake my disappointment as me being mad, because it’s different. If I was mad at you, I would’ve already bent you over this desk.” He chuckles at that, and you manage to crack a smile too, a jolt of electricity running through you from the thoughts that that comment incites.

“But, this is just me reminding you that just because I’m your boyfriend, that doesn’t make me any less of your teacher.” Alex squeezes your shoulder and you nod at him, understanding what he’s saying. Because he’s right, Alex is still your teacher, and you want to impress him with your work, not coast through his class.

Alex continues marking papers for a bit while you do some revision, taking your usual spot at the end of his desk. He notices you yawning and losing focus after a while, so he offers to order you an Uber back to his flat. You’re practically living at Alex’s place at the moment, half of your clothes and toiletries are there, and it’s a lot easier to go to and from school from his.

Alex walks you to the pick up point, one hand planted protectively on the small of your back - he’s planning to stay on campus for a little longer to finish marking, as he wants you all to himself when he gets home later.

When the Uber arrives, he grabs the door for you, ushering you into the car while he whispers, “I expect you to be naked and kneeling by the bed when I get back. If not, then you’d find yourself in more trouble than you already are.”

You shiver a little at his words, suspecting there would be some element of punishment involved tonight, but now that Alex has confirmed it, you’re incredibly excited. This is something you’ve wanted for a while, and obviously you didn’t want to do badly on your paper, but maybe something good can come out of it…

When you arrive at Alex’s flat, you manage to have a quick nap in an attempt to calm your nerves.

An hour later, you’re kneeling on the floor, ready and waiting. Your skin is coming out in goosebumps, partly from the cool air on your bare skin, partly from the anticipation of Alex arriving home. You rub your thighs together, trying to create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt. The sound of the door opening and then slamming shut startles you a little, your stomach dropping in excitement as you realise Alex is finally back. You hear him drop his bags in the hallway, then his long strides echo through the house as he makes his way up to the bedroom. The suspense is killing you now, you're practically shaking as you wait in your kneeling position for him. You just hope he’s impressed.

The door swings open and Alex enters, a smirk growing as he takes you in, naked and kneeling for him. You swear you see his pupils dilate, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“What a sight to see, really,” he comments, leaning down fully and pressing both of his hands on his knees to meet your eyes. “If only I get to see this every day I come home. Would you mind it, darling? Would you mind if I ask you to be in this exact position every day, naked and vulnerable, waiting for your Sir like a good girl?”

You shake your head, then open your mouth to speak. “I wouldn’t, sir.”

“Good. Because it’d be such a shame if you do,” Alex flashes you a smile, leaning forward to peck your lips. “But let’s not forget why you’re currently here in that position now, yeah? Can you tell me? Tell me the reason why I’m punishing you, wanna hear you say it.”

“I –” your lips quiver, gulping down hard. “Because I got a B- on my paper, sir.”

“That’s right,” he nods, now standing up straight and fixing his posture. “And what am I gonna do to you exactly?”

“Straighten me out?”

Alex laughs softly at your reply, bringing one of his hands up to pet your hair gently. It’s a small gesture yet still manages to make your stomach erupt with butterflies. “Not the words I would use, but sure, darling – I’ll straighten you out.”

Alex quickly discards his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, exposing his arms. You feel yourself gush just looking at them, the veins snaking across his pale skin, marred only by the intricate tattoos extending from his wrists up into the sleeves of his shirt. You think about how the patterns curl around his shoulders, spreading into wings across his back, how you trace them so gently when he’s sleeping, admiring the beauty of him.

Alex interrupts your thoughts, opening his wardrobe and rummaging around in there for a bit. You squirm with anticipation, having no idea what your boyfriend might have planned for you, only knowing that it’s going to be intense.

Alex turns round to face you, a menacing grin plastered across his face, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the object in his hands – a long, slim riding crop, the end a double fold of stiff leather. Your eyes widen, your heart racing as you watch Alex tap the end against his hand.

“What do you think of this, baby? Think you can take it?”

You nod again, but Alex needs more this time”

“Need your words for this, love. What’s your colour?”

“G–Green, sir, so green, please.”

Alex smirks. He takes a few strides so he’s standing over you, stroking your hair gently, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm.

“On the bed, baby. You know what to do.”

He points the crop to the king sized bed behind you, following you as you stretch your stiff legs and make your way over. You sink slowly onto the soft mattress, knowing exactly what position Alex wants you in – ass up, face down. You stretch your arms out in front of you to support your head and try to relax your thighs, presenting your bare cunt and ass to Alex. You can hear his breathing quicken as he takes you in – he’s just as excited as you are.

“I want you to count these out for me, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel the bed dip behind you as Alex takes his position, then hear the swoop of the riding crop through the air, then a burning sensation on your left ass cheek. God it hurts, but it feels so good at the same time, sending a jolt right to your cunt as you cry out.

“One, sir.”

He lands another one on your other cheek, you whimper as the burn spreads across your skin, and manage to whisper out a ‘Two, s- -sir.”

“Colour?”

“Green, please keep going Al – Sir, more please.”

Seems like Alex doesn’t like the way you accidentally addressed him by his name, and so two more quick swats land on your cheeks in quick succession. You bite into the pillow, feeling the tears welling up as you muffle your scream. It fucking burns. You’ve always been so used to his hands spanking you but never leather.

“Forgotten how to count already, princess?”

“No – no, Sir, just –” you sniffle, swallowing down the sob threatening to spill. “Three a–and four.”

“What’s that? Let me hear you –” he pauses, you try to look back in confusion, but before you can see what he’s up to, he’s already bringing the riding crop for another lash on your ass – much harder than the last four. “– say it fucking louder!”

“Five!” You scream, burying your face into the mattress and pulling your lower torso away from the sheer pain, but Alex places his hand on your waist to pull you back closer. “F–Five, Sir, that’s – that’s five, please, it hurts –”

“Does it?” Alex mocks. “You know deep down in yourself that you deserve it, so count properly unless you want me to bring the number up.”

You can’t bring yourself up to speak since you’re already shuddering from your sobs, your skin burning in pain, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It was so much, all at once.

You took 5 more strokes from Alex, forcing out the number and a thank you each time, until the 10th blow had you collapsing onto the bed, shuddering and crying.

“Alright, I think that’s enough, yeah, baby?”

Alex places one hand on the small of your back, rubbing up and down your skin in an effort to calm your shaking form.

“You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

Alex’s voice is softer now, and you suspect you’ve got past the worst of the punishment. His words fill you with warmth, and you nod and hiccup into the duvet, reaching one hand back to grab at Alex’s. He intertwines your fingers, letting you find comfort in him for a few moments.

“Good girl. But we aren’t done yet. Need you to make me feel good.”

You roll over, wincing as your raw ass rubs a little on the sheets. You aren’t going to be able to sit down for a few days, that’s for sure.

Alex shuffles to the end of bed and sits back on his heels, beckoning for you to come over, a growing bulge glaring obvious in his navy pants.

You crawl over to Alex, swaying your hips seductively as you move, knowing it will just turn him on even more.

You unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly, your hands shaking a little in your eagerness to please Alex. You’re practically drooling at the thought of his thick cock in your mouth. His fingers card through your hair, gathering it into a ponytail in one hand. He pulls your head back a little from his grip on your hair, until you’re looking up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown from anticipation, his chest heaving up and down under his shirt. God, you wish you could just rip the white fabric off him, run your hands over his shoulders and chest, feel the solid muscle under his smooth, pale skin.

“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all night, yeah?”

You nod your head, taking a few deep breaths before tugging on Alex’s boxers. He helps you pull them down, his cock slipping out, already thick and hard, a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip. You wrap one hand around his length, feeling his velvety skin under your fingertips. Alex’s deep groan fills the room as you drop your head to lick slowly along the underside of his cock. His grip tightens on your hair as you suckle gently on the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum when you flick your tongue over his head. He sucks in a harsh breath, pulling on your hair.

“Don’t tease me now, darling, you’ll just make it worse for yourself.”

You smirk, giving him your best doe eyes, before ducking your head down to try and take him fully into your mouth, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat and trying to swallow down a gag. You wrap your hand around his base, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth. You continue looking up at Alex, his face blurring as a film of tears cloud over your eyes.

Alex groans, the deep sound going straight to your cunt and you try to rub your thighs together for a bit of friction, but Alex is quick to put a stop to that.

“Uh uh, darling, none of that. You can have your pleasure when I’m done, alright?”

You just whine around his cock, bobbing your head and taking as much of him as you can. There’s drool dripping down your chin and tears slowly spilling from your eyes. Even after numerous tries, you don’t think there will be a day in your life where you can fully take his whole nine inches down your throat without choking yourself to death – but whatever, that’s one good way to die.

“Fuck – so good baby, so good to me.” Alex pants, hand fisting your hair roughly as his hips buck against your mouth. You choke a little at the action and your own hands go to grip his thighs for support, a trail of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor as the fat head of his cock hits the back of your throat again. “Yeah, darling, fucking choke on it – take it all, fucking take it all like the good girl you are –”

You moan at his words, feeling his cock throb in your mouth, so hot and heavy on your tongue. He’s close, you can tell, so you hollow your cheeks and suckle fervently on his length, getting Alex to his climax the only thing on your mind. Alex growls and you feel a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his cock, and you peer up at him, confused. A string of saliva still connects your lips to his cock and you can see it twitching in front of your face.

“Want to come in your cunt, darling.” Alex declares in between pants.

You nod your head eagerly. “Please, sir, want your cock, please.”

Alex nods, pushing you back until you’re lying back on the soft pillows. He grabs your wrists and puts them above your head. “These stay here, okay?”

You nod again, although you're desperate to touch Alex, you know it's better to do what he says. The cuddling can come later.

Alex drapes himself over your body, the fabric of his trousers brushing against your skin as he nudges your thighs apart, his hand dropping down to spread your folds.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me, you just fucking love getting punished, don’t you?” One long finger flicks over your clit, spreading your slick over your hot skin. He’s right, you're soaked, a result of the spanking and having his cock in your mouth, so ready for him to have his way with you. And so is he, you can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg, still sticky from a mix of your saliva and Alex’s precum. You moan as Alex’s two fingers press roughly into your cunt, scissoring and pressing against your walls, trying to find that special spot inside you.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you some prep, baby, bad girls don’t get stretched out before they take my cock. But you’ve done well for me so far, so I’m gonna be generous.” Alex pants into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Your eyes widen as his face contorts in bliss, licking all of your juices off of his digits. His eyelashes flutter as he looks down at you, his eyes are dark, lust completely overtaking any semblance of reason.

“Gonna fuck you now, darling.”

You both groan in unison as Alex nudges his cock against your clit, grabbing himself at the base to push slowly inside of you. Despite how wet you are, and the few moments Alex spent stretching you out, there’s still a sharp burn as your walls try to accommodate his girth. He’s hot and heavy, throbbing inside of you, and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein as he slowly bottoms out.

Your whole body is trembling, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of Alex so deep inside you almost enough to send you over the edge right there and then. You clench your fists, trying to keep your hands in the position you left them in, fighting the urge to rip Alex’s shirt off and scratch your nails down his back.

“Look at me, baby, look at me while I’m fucking you.” Alex practically growls, grabbing your chin in his hand and turning your face to him.

“Please move, Al- Sorry, Sir, please move.” The feeling of being full is so overwhelming, you need him to move or you might just combust.

Alex just smirks. “I really don’t think you're in any position to be making demands right now, darling. Remember why you’re here, yeah?”

You just whine and nod your head submissively, trying to keep your gaze on his. He lets you suffer for a few moments before finally moving his hips. He pulls out until just his tip is left snug in your hole, then slams his hip back forwards. You scream as his cock drags along your walls, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and his balls slapping against your still raw ass. Within seconds, the fire in your belly is reignited and you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. You feel like you've been on the edge the whole night, and now, finally, you might get your release.

Alex pounds into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his gasps and moans coming in time with his thrusts. You can feel the sweat dripping down his brow onto your chest, the fabric of his shirt rubbing roughly against your nipples. You’re desperate to touch him, to run your hands over his shoulder, his neck, his hair, and you can’t hold it back anymore.

“Please, sir, p–please can I touch you? Please, I need to.”

Alex lifts his head from your neck, one sweaty lock of hair falling over his forehead as he looks down at you. “Oh really? You think you’ve been good enough to touch me?”

“Y–Yes, please, I’ve been a good girl, I have.”

Alex shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Good girls don’t get bad grades, do they?”

You’re truly on the edge now, can feel your orgasm approaching like a runaway train, and you squeeze your eyes shut to try to fend it off, not wanting to come without your arms around Alex.

“You close, baby? Gonna come for me?”

You shake your head desperately. “Please, sir, need to touch you, please.”

“You wanna touch me?” Alex smirks, breathing hard as he drives his cock even deeper, loving the way your walls clench around his length everytime he hits that special spot that never fails to make you fucking shake. “If you wanna touch me, you better cum around my cock and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Now that’s something that’s not very difficult to do. With a sniffle and a loud whimper, you crack open your teary eyes and look at him. He’s watching you very carefully. One of the few things you’ve noticed at the start of your relationship is that he never takes his eyes off of you when you’re cumming – whether it’s around his cock or his fingers or even his mouth, his eyes will always find their way to look at your face as you crumble down from both his generosity and cruelty.

Your vision tunnels to just Alex’s face, his dark eyes, long lashes, pale skin, the little scar under his brow, and you come. The emotions of the past few hours finally catch up with you and you shake and shudder under Alex, clenching and milking him for all he’s worth. He groans and his hips stutter as he reaches his climax as well, a warmth filling you as he empties himself deep inside of you. You sob and bury your face in Alex’s neck, which is damp from sweat. His chain presses against your cheek, cold against your burning skin.

“Fuck, baby, such a good girl, so good for me. Come here, love.”

And finally you move your stiff arms to wrap yourself around Alex, curling your legs around his waist, his softening cock still inside of you. You tug at his shirt, whining into his neck and Alex immediately knows what you want, pulling back for a moment to peel the shirt off his shoulders, flinging it to the other side of the room. His pants are also discarded within moments, until he’s left just as naked as you are. His chest is sweaty and if you aren’t so tired from getting dicked down within an inch of your life, you would’ve taken your time admiring it and maybe leaving a very funny comment that would surely make him laugh.

But unfortunately you don’t have the energy to do all that, you’re sure Alex will understand.

“Tired?” He croons, pressing his hand on your cheek, loving the way it’s burning and still a bit wet from your tears. “You wanna shower, baby? Need your answer here, don’t leave me hanging.”

“No,” you whine, pawing at his shoulder and pulling him closer, purposefully draping his whole body on top of you and putting his head in the crook of your neck. “Stay here.”

You hear him chuckling, his hot breath tickling your neck as his hands then move underneath your back and wrap you up with his body like a big weighted blanket. “You wanna stay like this? All night? You sure I'm not gonna crush you or something?”

“No, you’re warm.”

Based on your short responses and clingy attitude, Alex comes to the conclusion that you’re in one of those moods again. You often get clingy and a bit out of it after a good orgasm, but not entirely in subspace. He would’ve known the tone of your voice if you were, but right now he thinks you’re just a bit floaty, and you think you are too.

“Is there anything you want to do after, baby? Take a bath? Sleep? Order a takeout?”

You don’t know. You’re still very much intoxicated by his scent especially since he’s closer to you than he has been all day. Alex’s aftershave mixed with his sweat is practically making you mewl like a kitten, and you have to stop every urge not to rub your cheeks against him like one.

“How about just lie here for a bit, then take a bath, then order a takeout, then sleep?” You suggest, voice hoarse and raw from getting throatfucked earlier. Wonderful. “And I wanna…” You trail off, a hand snaking up to play with his hair.

“Wanna what?” Even though you don’t see Alex’s face, you can practically visualise in your head that he’s currently holding up his confused expression. Raised eyebrow and all. “You wanna go for another round or something?”

“No!” You giggle, slapping him slightly on the shoulder, which earns a quick nip on your neck and a chuckle from Alex. “Well, not that it’s a problem. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Wanna apologise.” There it goes. Your voice sounds a bit teary and sad, no doubt Alex picks up on that. “I didn’t… mean to have that kind of grade, you know that. It’s just everything has been stressing me out lately and I haven’t really figured out how to fix it yet. I guess overthinking about making it all better kept me from putting all my focus on that paper. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Alex doesn’t answer for a bit and you think that maybe he’s thinking if your excuse is good enough, but luckily that’s not the case when you feel his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck and up behind your ear. You flinch a little from being ticklish, a giggle spilling out of your mouth.

“I know you will,” Alex finally says, pulling his head back and looking at your face. “I know you’ll do better, sweetheart. You always do. And I love you for that. You know that if there’s something bothering you, you can always just ask me for help, right? I’m not a mind reader, darling, that’s why we need to communicate. I’m not always with you when we’re in school so I have no idea what problems you might be facing, but if there’s something I can do to help, then please tell me. Okay?”

He’s right. He always is.

“Okay. I understand. I love you too,” you give him a smile, now feeling a little shy under his stare as he brushes your hair out of your face. “I’ll tell you about my problems next time. Would you still help me if it was about your subject, though?”

Alex laughs cheekily at your question, leaning down to kiss your nose. “I’ll think about it. Still depends if you’d be willing to give me something in return.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk an eyebrow, a playful grin making its way on your face. “And what’s that?”

“What do we say about roleplay –”

You push his shoulders before he can even finish his question, barking out a laugh when Alex only scoops his arms underneath your back again and pulling you closer to him.

“Absolutely not!”

[prodbyton]

🎀's topic for today/tonight: rich bf!Anton 🫡 yes, this stems from my deep-seated desire to have a man who pays for everything i could possibly want and is obsessed with me.

rich bf!Anton for sure experienced love at first sight when he met you for the first time through a mutual friend (Sohee bc i said so). he just knew you two were meant to be. Anton shyly asked you out the second time you met. that was the first (and only) time you got a gift from a guy on the first date. when he told you he would bring you a surprise to your date, you expected flowers or a teddy bear, not earrings that cost more than you could make in a year.

after that, all hell broke loose. every single date, before you made it official, was preceded by an extravagant gift. when you agreed to be his girlfriend, he almost fell to his knees in euphoria. he started buying even more gifts. you got a gift on your anniversary every month, every couple holiday, anytime he thought you were cute which was virtually every second of every day. anytime you off-handedly mention something you want, it gets delivered to your apartment the next day. you used to feel bad before you realized how much he loved spending money on you.

Beyoncé's "Dangerously In Love" is exactly what Anton embodies. he was literally whipped by day one! his friends make fun of him for it, but they'll just never know just how much he loves it. you took note early on that he was always so happy to gift you something. he'd always grin so wide with ears so red they could pass for tomatoes. the more he spent on you the happier he was.

you remember one particular night he popped a boner while looking over his bank statements. you were in his lap and pointing out which thousand-dollar purchases were yours (a monthly ritual since you started dating). you thought sitting on his lap was doing it for him, but the farther you got down the list, the tighter he held you to his lap. the two of you never finished the list because he dragged you over to the bed. that night he went down on you like it was his last meal and fucked you as his life depended on it. you never confronted him about poorly disguised kink, you just made sure to use his card a bit more than usual.

-🎀 (the way i just casually (and accidentally) write whole essays about these mfs is crazy and should studied)

i woke up last night at 3am, read this and giggled until i fell back asleep and wow… just wow u really eat these up every time 🤭

lowkey wanna make this into a fic fr so i wont share my thoughts and ill just leave this here… like findom except you don’t even realize whats going on until you see how turned he is while you whine about how he spends so much on you and that there was no reason for him to give you his card… he tells you that you that you don’t even have to work anymore cuz he’ll take care of everything 😵‍💫

[yesimwriting]

Hi! I'm so exited that you asked for request for tasm Peter Parker, the second I saw it all I could think of is him being like, assertive..does that make sense? I don't know he's just so sassy and lovely, and I believe whole heartedly that when it comes to people he cares about he can be very pushy with them.

So like I don't just like a scenario for you to build off of, like domestic assertiveness like making his s/o take breaks when they're over working themselves like gently but firmly "suggesting" they eat something or take a nap or go out side, get fresh air you know anything. This is just something for you to go off but I'd love anything you'd make. I hope you have a lovely day :)

a/n omg i hope i captured the vibe that you described bc it's just SO GOOD like so in character and cute,, he's just meant to be a bf

----

It's so much like clockwork that you don't even need to look up from your notebook to undo the latch of your fire escape. Which is a good thing, because the day has somehow managed to crawl by at a snail's pace and still slip through your fingers too quickly.

All of your homework has piled up through no fault of your own. At first, only two classes decided to share a deadline, but then another teacher assigned you an essay and another added a test on the math chapter you've understood the least. At first you thought you'd be able to push through and finish off most of your work today, giving you a decent amount of time to try to decode your calc. But now it's been hours and your eyelids are feeling heavy and you've just started a pre-test worksheet that you had forgotten about.

The now familiar groan of the fire escape being pulled open barely registers. Despite how hard you're trying to keep all your focus on the study guide, a warmth you've gotten much too used to roots itself in your stomach.

"Always unlocked." Peter's already pulled himself into your bedroom, the shift from the outside world to your room a transition he could complete with his eyes shut. "As Spider-Man, I should tell you not to for safety reasons, but it does make it easier when I'm tired."

Your eyes tear away from the page long enough to look at him. Peter's mask is already pulled up his face.

"I don't--you're tired?" You blink hard, trying to focus. "Was it..." The whole Spider-Man thing being so open is still relatively new to you. Peter's never made it feel like a particularly sore or easily triggering issue, but you know how much trust he's giving you by being this casual about it. And you're prone to worrying, to pushing and doting and wanting to wrap Peter in bubblewrap. "...Eventful?"

Peter frowns, leaning forward on the window sill. "That gets a reaction?"

You retrace your words, wondering if you've said something wrong or overly sappy. You can't find any mistakes. "What?"

He relaxes at the genuine confusion in your voice. He gives himself a second to really look at you, at the notebook on your lap. "Are you still doing homework?"

"Uh..." It's almost like the papers surrounding you are embarrassing. "Yeah, a lot of stuff's coming up." You let out a breath that doesn't exactly work as a laugh. "And I wanted to finish it early so I'd have time to ask Gwen to go over some calc stuff with me."

Peter stands slowly He's not used to this, to feeling unsure in your room or around you in general. Maybe you're trying to be passive aggressive. Did he forget something? Or stand you up or do something to upset you? He can't remember anything negative about any of your interactions, but that could just be his side of things. Maybe he's been taking advantage of you knowing his secret. It's easy to become less attentive when he can just fall back on blaming everything on Spider-Man.

"I know about calc." It feels small, almost shy.

"I know." You swallow, hoping to hide any insecurity in your voice. Peter's the most important person in your life and on days like this you don't feel like you deserve to even run in the same circles. All of the stuff you're struggling with comes naturally to him and on top of that he's a freaking superhero. Complaining about not getting math and school stress has to sound stupid and unimportant to someone who literally fights crime. "But I was going to see her tomorrow morning anyway, and it's just some basic stuff I want to make sure I get before the test on Friday."

You don't want his help. He tries not to take your reaction personally. Gwen's your friend just as much as he is and there a lot of reasons you could be waiting. Maybe you're frustrated and over trying to understand it today. Or maybe the way Gwen summarizes things makes more sense to you.

Peter stands, consciously telling himself to let it go. It's been awhile since the two of you have just gotten to peacefully co-exist. Okay, only awhile by your usual standards considering that he had hung out for awhile after school before his usual patrol. But that was mostly studying, and he misses you more than he can justify.

He picks up a notebook and a few papers scattered next to you, shuffling them neatly before sitting next to you.

"Peter."

"What?"

The amount of innocence pushed into the word forces you to look up. "I'm--" He's closer than you thought he'd be, staring at you with a partial pout. "I'm trying to do homework."

His hand shifts, pinky touching the side of your hand. "Take a break." Your head snaps up. "You've been doing it for way too long."

Your chin comes up a fraction of an inch. "Because I need to."

"You're going to burn yourself out." You want to listen, to at least pretend to be considering his opinion, but your tired and his tone is so contradicting. A touch of actual annoyance is in there, but it's undercut by an exasperated softness. Equal parts stress and a concern that'd better fit a parent correcting a child for their own good. It's too genuine and oddly nice. You smile. "I'm serious."

You recover quickly, forcing yourself to frown, "I know, but I'm seriously okay." You wish there was a way to physically prove it. "I just..." You wipe your eyes with the back of your palm, "I have to do this sometimes." Something about the way your voice softens tells him that you're not talking about just homework. "It's not always natural."

Peter turns too quickly, his knee bumping into yours. "Hey." He doesn't know where he's going with this. Doesn't know how to talk to you about these kinds of things without melting and fully exposing himself.

"You are so smart and-and good at so many things." The praise hits you straight in the chest, making warmth rush to your face. "But taking care of yourself isn't one of them."

You roll your eyes, finally finding it in yourself to look at him. "Which one of us messed up their hip two weeks ago and wouldn't go to the doctor?"

Peter sighs, "It was not messed up."

"It so was." You crane your neck to better glare at him. "You could barely walk."

He presses his lips together, fighting down a smile. "It was not that bad."

"I had to help you get to my bathroom." You keep your tone light, partially teasing, but it still doesn't feel that casual. That was the first time you had seen him that injured. It had turned your stomach so much you couldn't even overthink about how close the two of you were physically as you helped him.

That was almost your breaking point. You wanted to get him to a hospital. The two of you could have come up with some kind of story to justify the injuries that wouldn't have outed him as Spider-Man. But Peter practically begged you to let it go, to just patch him up like usual and let him crash in your room for the night. You wanted to push, but he had been so insistent and nice as he tried to comfort you. You caved. You always cave.

"I was--a little sore." The admission is reluctant. You tilt your head, eyebrows raising as if to say that you've made your point. "Not the same." He says it like that should take away from your feeling of victory, but it really doesn't. "I'm serious, you can't work yourself sick."

You let out a small sigh. If it was coming from anyone else, you'd be annoyed enough to tell them off. But this isn't anyone, it's Peter who's trying to mother hen you to death for no other reason than worry.

You reach for his arm, fingers gently squeezing just above his wrist. "I'm not sick." He turns his hand over. "It just--it's not always natural to me...and I have to make up the difference."

"Don't do that." Your pointer finger drags down the face of his palm. "You're too smart not to see it." Peter 's hand shifts into a fist, trapping your pointer finger. "And you're too smart to burn yourself out."

There's no way for you to get any response out, so you just stare at where your fingers tangle together. "I'm okay, I just need to keep my calc grade up."

He's close enough now that when he lets out a tired breath you can feel it against the side of your head. You can't remember moving closer. "And if you fall asleep in class or can't focus because you're exhausted."

"That doesn't--" You don't know what to say. That that doesn't count, that that kind of thing doesn't happen to you. You know that Peter's just trying to help, but you're not in the mood for reason and understanding. You just want to feel like you have it together the way everyone else seems to. "You get less sleep than me."

You push yourself further onto your bed, creating some needed space. The closer you are to Peter, the easier it is for you to melt. One inch too far and before you know it you're holding hands or his head is on your shoulder and your fingers are gently combing through his hair.

A part of it feels petulant and a little silly. He's your best friend, you don't know why you're starting a competition over whose worse at self care.

"Yeah," he admits easily, leaning back so that he can better look at you, "That's how I know it's hard." Peter shifts again, the movement has your notebook almost falling forward. "And I don't--" He sighs, eyes dropping down to the mess of papers between you. "I don't want that for you." The words are mumbled quietly, his attention focusing on organizing your notebooks and paper.

It's enough to get you to visibly soften. He's just looking out for you the way you want to look out for him. "I know, it's just--" You watch Peter tap his pile of your notes against his leg, straightening them out. "It all has to get done and I--I see everyone just getting it and doing all these other things and I'm barely holding on to the bare minimum."

Peter stops. "What?" He immediately sets down your notes in favor of reaching for your hand. "You can't--" He squeezes your fingers, more for his own sake than more. "Getting the grades you do isn't the bare minimum and you're--" Peter stops himself from gushing over how smart he thinks you are. "Is that why you don't want me to help you with calc?"

Spider-Man has made his life harder in a lot of ways, but he never thought it'd hurt his relationship with you. It's been a conscious choice. You're a priority.

Maybe he's been talking about it too much...coming off like he thinks he's that in important when in reality he just wants to impress you. Is that it? Have his attempts to seem cool and brave and like a guy worth your attention come off as ego?

"Is..." He isn't sure where to start. "Is this because of..." Peter can't bring himself to say it, so all he does is lift the hand still holding onto the mask.

"No," you blurt out a little too quickly, "I-I mean I don't think so, at least not fully." You sigh, embarrassed that this even needs to be a conversation. "It's that you're balancing that and your grades perfectly and Gwen's got her internship and one week of extra assignments is all it takes to throw me off. And it feels like I always need help with this stuff." You briefly squeeze your eyes shut, unsure how you even admitted that. "And now I'm officially terrible friend. I suck."

Peter pulls your intertwined hands forward, settling your fist on his knee. "No, you're not." You give him a look that says you don't buy a word of it. "You do so much, even if you don't see it." He drags his thumb across your knuckles. "You help me a lot."

You don't feel like you do. Peter's the one going out and taking the hits every night. The most you do is research certain local crimes and patch him up the best you can. That's nothing compared to everything he does for everyone. It's not a competition, but you definitely don't feel okay adding to his work load. "Peter--"

"I'm serious, do you think I could do everything I do without knowing that you're here?" Peter's expression blanks. Too much. Way too much. "And that--that you're ready to help clean me up and-and research all that--" He cuts himself off again. There is no good way to comfort you without accidentally admitting how much he cares. "Crime stuff."

Despite yourself, you smile, "Crime stuff?"

Instead of taking the bait and falling for your slight teasing, he holds onto his point. "You get what I mean." He lets go of his mask in order to squeeze your hand between both of his. "You're important and so smart, even if you're not always smart enough to see it."

Heat rushes to your face. "Okay." A reluctant retreat. Peter secretly indulges in his victory. "Help me with calc?"

"Okay," Peter agrees easily, "Tomorrow, though, because you need sleep."

You roll your eyes, "You are such a mom sometimes."

"You're the one that wants to get Spider-Man a jacket."

You let out a mock gasp. That suggestion had been a joke. Kind of. "First off, I was kidding." Eh. "And second, it gets cold in the winter and your suit's so thin."

Peter grins before taking his hands back. You frown a little at the loss of contact, but try to recover quickly. "Can I stay over?" He wraps his arms around himself, exaggerating the chill in the air by moving his hands up and down his arms. "Because it's so...cold?"

You fight down a laugh, reaching over for a pillow to hit him in the shoulder. Honestly, Peter's found some lame excuses to sleep over, but recently it's like he's not even trying. Which is perfectly okay with you--if he's tired, he's tired. And also, it's always kind of nice when Peter stays over. Nicer than it should be. "I should lock you out and let you freeze."

"Mhm," he hums, pushing himself to his feet, "Do I have any--"

You pick up your homework so that by the time he gets back from changing, Peter will have space to lay down. "Top drawer, I threw your sweatpants and some of your shirts in the laundry the other day, so they're good to go."

Peter lets himself smile once his back is into you. He can't remember ever giving the whole domestic thing much thought before he started crashing here kind of regularly. Your parents are rarely an issue, both of them have long commutes to work which means they're usually asleep by the time Peter can swing in and they leave for work in such a rush that if they do check on you before leaving, Peter only has to worry about hiding for a second, and his extra sense always warns him in time. They're a lot less likely to catch him bruised and injured than his aunt.

"You're perfect." The honestly of his words leaves his face hot. It's a good thing he's still not facing you.

You're still too busy organizing your school stuff for tomorrow morning to notice the way that sentimentality swells in his throat. "Mhm."

"I mean it," he pulls open the drawer, taking out what he needs to sleep, "You need to give yourself more credit or I'm going to do it for you."

Warmth begins to crawl up your chest. Why is your best friend the kindest, most understanding, overwhelmingly pretty person you've ever met? "That's the worst threat I've ever heard."

Peter shuts the drawer and turns towards your bedroom door. Your bathroom is just down a short hall, and as long as he's quiet, he won't get caught. "That's because it's not a threat."

You move to sit at the edge of your bed, "Oh, are you--" Asking if he needs any kind of patching up still feels awkward. You're not sure why...there's nothing even remotely feely about it even though it's overly touchy, even by your standards. "Did you get hurt at all, or--?"

"Oh," he shakes his head once, "No, I'm--" Peter knew you'd ask, you always do because he doesn't always love showing you the more tolerable bruises and cuts until you give him those soft, worried eyes. But he's actually fine tonight, which means that he didn't really have an excuse to stop by and sleepover. "I'm good tonight, just a little tired."

You nod, expression so casual Peter can't read much from it. Maybe you're so used to him crashing by now that you don't even need to think through the reasons. "Good. I like when you're safe."

Fondness tugs at Peter's chest. "I'm always safe."

You roll your eyes as he slips out the door. A few minutes later, Peter comes back. You're already laying in bed, beneath the covers, face only illuminated by your small, bedside lamp and cell phone screen.

"I know I said you need sleep..." You push yourself to sit up a little straighter. "But if you wanted to watch something for a little bit..."

He trails off, trying to push against the slight guilt of selfishness. Most nights when he stays over, Peter tries to time his arrival to give you two enough time to watch something on TV. The two of you usually fall asleep too quickly to care what's on, but it does make it easier to get close to you. If you guys watch TV first, he can find a window to hold your hand or pull an arm around your shoulder.

But you really do need sleep tonight.

"Yeah," you grin, "Sounds nice." You push yourself a little more to your side of the bed. "Just for a little." Both of you know that the TV will be on until whoever falls asleep first has drifted off. The one that's still awake will have to search the bed for a remote.

"Cool," Peter agrees, walking around your bed to turn the bedside lamp off, "Wanna watch the show from last time?"

You nod lazily before finding the remote. Peter gets into bed as you adjust the volume before opening the right streaming service. With a few clicks, your show is on. As the intro roles onto the screen, you drop your head onto Peter's shoulder.

"Hey," he whispers, knowing you're half asleep, "You can't let yourself get stressed out like that and not--" He trusts you so much, and he wants you to be able to feel the same way for him. "Not tell me about it, okay?" He finds your arm in the dark, fingers instinctually drawing patterns against the inside of your wrist. "Please?"

You try to sit up a little straighter, but all you actually do is just read your head more fully on him. "Okay." It's a fair request considering the way you bully him into admitting to every new cut and bruise, no matter how small. "I promise." He trails his nails down your arm, "I'd pinky promise, but I'm too tired."

Peter lets out a partial breath, amusement trying to disguise itself as annoyance. He moves his hand, taking his time to find your pinky. He bends his around yours. "Do you only keep me around to do things for you?"

Even though the joke is the complete opposite of everything he's just said, you still smile as you let out a mock gasp. "No, I keep you around 'cause you're pretty."

The teasing comment is worse than the kind of response you'd throw at him if you were more awake. He's suddenly glad he turned off your bedside lamp before laying down. "I'm pretty?"

A second passes and no response. Not even a hum of acknowledgement. Carefully, Peter leans forward and sees that your eyes are shut and your breathing has evened out.

[eris-snow]

5. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst, swearing, confusion,

The constant stream of thoughts is similar to the ringing of an old rotary phone. It’s a sharp, blaring, drawn-out noise. It comes again, and again, and again, and aga—

Quiet.

It’s too quiet.

No talking, no conversations, nobody.

Your fingers burn from playing the piano for so long. You don’t even want to go on anymore, but if you stop, the silence will return.

Why isn’t Katsuki here yet?

You reach into your bag, a last-ditched effort to find your earp. Just like the other 99 times you attempted, you come up with nothing. Of course you forgot to bring them with you today.

Quiet.

Quiet.

Quiet.

What are you doing here?

You draw your knees closer to yourself, slamming your hands against your ears. You know how it goes, but you pray, just this once, that it will drown out the noise.

Silence is loud.

Silence is so, so loud.

You’re so lonely.

Are you crying?

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Worthless.

Worthless—

“Didn’t I tell you to turn on the fan? What do you want, a heat stroke?”

Katsuki’s voice slices through your thoughts like a sharpened axe, and it grants you just enough time to exhale a shaky breath, pull your hands that are clamped on your ears off and fix your expression to a neutral one just in time for the curtains to be tugged aside to reveal ruby red eyes staring directly at you.

Part of you rejoices. It craves attention like a crazed, sugar-driven child and delights in the mere fact that Katsuki’s talking to me! Katsuki is looking at me!

The other part of you punches it in the face and flips yourself off mentally like any mature person would.

Your heart pounds in your ears and it takes little time for it to normalise as you smile sheepishly and tell him you forgot.

After an eye roll and another snarky remark, your hands stop trembling from behind the piano.

In less than a minute, the thoughts devouring you inside out are gone.

--

These spirals are nothing new for you, but they had eased off the moment Katsuki crashed back into your life. With each pull of the curtain signalled another day of bliss, another sigh of relief because it meant someone to talk to.

It meant that the silence would go away.

It meant that those voices, those calm, mocking, distorted voices would leave, even just a bit.

“You’re a good listener,” Katsuki had said once. “But this ain’t a therapy session. So spill. What is going on in your life? Unless being bad at math is your one personality trait.”

You laugh it off, and change the subject. Katsuki is on to you, and you know it. But you also know that he can read you well, so he won’t pry even if he’s on the edge of his seat.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him about your day. You wish to tell him about that surprise test, or that weird philosophical essay question you have to do. You wish to tell him that you’d finished that question on circles, which ironically had more triangles than curves on it.

You wish you could tell him something that would stack up to his wild, exciting day, full of adventures you can never experience.

But you can’t, so you don’t.

Instead, you share little things: Your new assignment, your dead plant, those friends that are 5 years long gone.

It’s all to fish out the repressed chuckles and snorts because that is so, so much easier than poking holes at a fragile dam that’s bracing a lake of tears.

--

Worthless

Worthless.

Worthless.

Worthless.

Worthless.

Worthless—

.

.

.

Part of you is scared. Scared that one day you’d wait, and wait, and wait and nobody would look behind the thick drapes that conceal you to find you. Scared isn’t the right word.

Terrified is.

--

Before Katsuki, the silence was deafening. Thoughts were all-consuming, and you had panic attacks coming out at the most random instances. You wish you were busy enough to simply not have time for these lapses, but that’s what happens when you become a wallflower. No one means no care, and you’re trying to tightrope the line between insanity and lucidity.

I’m okay.

Earphones block out the noise.

The piano overwhelms the silence.

You wanted to be a performer, once, but that dream fizzled away the moment it came.

Do you really, though?

You were cruising along life like a small sail boat in a storm: coping, even if just barely. And then Katsuki opened that curtain, with his red eyes and gruff voice you’re no longer used to hearing. He came back.

Why did he come back?

--

Silence rings loud in the hall.

You stare bleakly at the curtains.

You can’t wait for Katsuki to come.

--

Author's notes:

This is my way of saying sorry. My posting schedule is scattershot and I'm running on 4 hours of sleep after 5 hours of getting my ass whipped playing badminton, but my stubborn ass refuses to give up this story.

[melkintoyou]

cos i met you at my favourite store: Prologue

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: a full story fic, lots of disgusting, tooth rotting, fluff! college au, mark is a music major not suitable for minors

Prologue

16:24 pm | A book store

"Visual Methodologies... Visual Metho.. Visu..." You lowly chanted to yourself in the Fine Art section, as you searched for a book on visual methodologies. With deadlines approaching, you needed to get this essay done before the Christmas break. You slipped your beanie off in frustration and stood there for a second, taking in a deep breath and recollecting your thoughts. You have always been an over thinker, a natural worrier. This fuelled a lot of your hardships but it made your focus really good. Which meant, you would never leave the store without this book, because that was your mission today.

Your eyes continued scanning the shelves in front of you as you sipped your iced caramel macchiato. Yes. Even in the winter, you refused to drink hot coffee. Something about coffee being cold that does the job for you, as opposed to hot. "Oh SHIT!" You exclaimed, a little too loud, gaining some eyes on you. It was right there. Big red book, staring right at you. You took a breath of relief, as you went on your tippy toes, trying to grab it. Unable to reach, you felt a little embarrassed as your cheeks started to feel warm.

Although, everyone went back to minding their own business. You felt a pair of eyes still on you from the side. You noticed a boy trying to hold back his smirk as he cleared his throat, bringing his closed fist to his mouth. 'He's laughing at me.' You think to yourself, before shooting him a death stare.

"Uh do you need some help?" He asked turning to you as he rubbed the back of his neck, shyly. You can't help but get distracted from the mission by his big brown eyes.

"Yeah, actually, if that's okay.." You stepped aside to let him get between you and the shelf, reaching for the big red book.

"Is this the one you after?" He gestured to pick it up for your approval and you gave him a nod.

"Thank you so much, honestly. That's one thing off my list." You gave him a smile and took the book from his hands. You thought you must be going crazy or maybe it was caffeine. But you swore, as your hands touched, ever so lightly, you felt something in your stomach. You bit down on your bottom lip to keep you from smiling and looked to the floor, now visibly shy.

"So.. visual art huh?" He made conversation. Moving back to his original spot. "Yeah, I'm an art major.. I'm paying the school to draw" You joked, deflecting your insecurities about the path you have chosen.

"No dude that's great, I'm doing music, so I guess we're in the same boat." You both laughed until the laughter died down. Leaving only the silence, and the thick air of attraction between you both. The boy smiled, slowly swinging backwards and forwards on his heels and toes. You eagerly looked at him, waiting for him to ask for your name, number or something!

"Hey so I-" Before he could finish his sentence, your phone rang.

"Nessie! I'm outside, we have 5 minutes to make it to this evening class. LETS GO!" Your best friend, Aliyah on the line rushed you as she waited outside.

"Oh shit, I.. I've got to go..sorry.. urm.. thank you so much. so nice to meet you" You quickly paid for your book and ran out the store, leaving the boy speechless, with a wave.

Fuck what was that?

_________________________________________

Chapter 1

[mywrittengartgallery]

GAVI - Nuage de moka dans la boca

Words : +1,8k

Warning : fluff / slight mature theme (smut)

Summary : Pablo and you had quite the relationship behind locked doors, protected by the comfort of your bedroom. Clearly, Eric didn’t have to know.

☁️ 

“We just gotta stop by” said Eric as he got out of his car, followed by Gavi and Pedri. The Canarian’s car had decided to not work today, leaving him without any other option than depending on Eric to bring him to practice. Considering that Pablo was Pedro’s passenger princess, he as well had depended on Eric. That’s why the two had to tag along wherever the Barcelonian needed to go. And so, the three barça’s players entered the small café, full of students and young adults. 

Eric’s eyes lit up when he saw you, sitting near one of the windows made of stained glass. You were focused, eyes fixed on your computer’s screen, glasses perched at the tip of your nose and hair pulled in a low ponytail. Delicately, your hand would bring your porcelain cup of coffee to your mouth, trying to sip on the fuming hot liquid, but you would back out when you felt the temperature coming from it. The frown that would settle after only brought a laugh out of Eric. 

“You shouldn’t be this impatient !” the older exclaimed, sitting down on one of the free chairs at your table. He had a teasing grin playing on his lips only for you to roll your eyes at his annoying behavior. 

“Guess I took after mom...” you said, throwing him a fake smile. God, nobody could annoy you as easily as Eric. You had, at some point in your life, thought that his sole purpose in life was to get on your nerves. If that was the case, he was doing a remarkable work at that. He nodded, agreeing with you. “That means I also took after her brain, that’s actually sad for you” you added, wanting to get back at him. The other scoffed, ignoring your glare and toyed with the spoon that the waitress had brought you with your coffee. 

The two other Barca’s players were standing next to the sitting Eric, eyeing the scene with an amused glint shining in their eyes. The interactions you had with your brother were the funniest, they thought. The banter you two had oddly reminded Pedri of him and his own brother, how they would rip each other’s head for not closing the door, but would actually donate their kidney in order to save the other’s life. Gavi on the other hand just laughed at it, a sword hanging above his head. God, he had put himself in the worst situation. 

Eric had finished being entertained with your golden spoon and wanted to get on your nerves even more. Somehow he got to turn your laptop around, keeping you from typing your essay. You huffed and turned it around, again. But your brother was stubborn, so he gripped the top of it then turned it around again. You cringed when you saw his digits making contact with the screen, now you were more than annoyed. You slapped his hand, quite harshly and turned it around, again, and threw him a glare that left no room for argument. “The sooner you let me finish my conclusion, the sooner we are home...”

Pedri laughed and pushed Eric a little, mentioning to him to calm down and let you work in peace. You looked like you were nearly done and he didn’t want you to delay your work because of the dumbass that your brother was. Especially when you working longer than needed meant Pablo and him standing with aching legs thanks to the lack of chairs available. You thanked the Canarian with a shy smile and went back to your work under the watchful gaze of the Sevillian. 

His eyes followed your every moves, entranced by your revealed neck, the soft dip near your collar bone and the soft wild hair caressing your skin right there. A soft smile stretched your lips when your hand made contact with the porcelain cup, cold enough to not burn your fingertips. You brought it to your lips, them stretching around the rounded edge, leaving a light rosy tint on the white matter. And you did all of that while looking like an angel blessed by the gods, bathing in a pool of colors. And the sight felt so oddly familiar to Pablo, it hit too close to home. Swallowing had never felt harder. 

The kaleidoscopic piece of lights hitting your face colored your skin with beautiful faint shades of pink, blue, yellow and even purple near your ear. Your eyes were shining under it and it tightened the knot in Pablo’s stomach because that’s close to the picture he had had for himself last night. The window of your bedroom had these pieces of glass hanging in front of it, casting colorful glows in the room right when the sun would begin to set. And he had been there, he had seen it during last night’s sunset, while your lips were red and glossed, your breath uneven while his pants filled the room, sitting on your bed. He knew every corners of your room, the dangling details on your ceiling and the fresco behind your bed. He knew your bare form in the middle of the bed, surrounded by your rooms specificities. He probably could map out the patterns that adorned your carpet, having been focused on it while your naked knees were being roughly scraped by it. And all of these were kept a secret, behind those doors, none of you daring to address the situation publicly. That was what you held hostage in a pandora box where only you and Pablo had the key of. 

The warm liquid passed the barrier of your lips, sliding down your throat as you gulped, your neck moving around it, and Pablo’s breath picked up. Damn it, the hormonal teenager that he was couldn’t handle it. It was too much. You were doing innocent things, sipping on a fucking coffee, without even a glint in your eyes that would hint at him that you knew what you were doing. Nothing at all. He was just living in his memories and projecting them onto you, in front of your brother. And that made him so frustrated, and so much more hotter inside, a weird thrill coursing throw his nerves. His mind was surely a little bit fucked up, he was certain of it. Then you put down the cup. If Pablo felt uncomfortable before, thanks to the hot wave washing over him, now he was completely embarrassed by the stiffness his body showed. All of it because of the white cloud of milk taking residency over the corners of your mouth. The pink tip of your tongue poked out of your mouth to lick at the glistening smear. Only, right now your cheeks weren’t flushed, no hair was sticking to your forehead with sweat and he wasn’t hovering over you, meeting your wide eyes with his.  

He was far gone and if he hadn’t had the control over his facial features he had at the moment, he was sure Eric would have recognized the thoughts running around his head just like Pedro had apparently done. Because the older had knocked his ankle with he tip of his shoe and had coughed, harder than he normally would. Pablo turned his head, questioning Pedri with his eyes. But the older only shrugged, swallowing a good laugh. Pablo had lied when he had said that this was a secret just between the two of you. He hadn’t been able to keep it away from his best friend, the guilt and the excitement too heavy on his shoulders for him to not share it with someone. Plus, Pedro was the one taking him and bringing him back from your place. It would normally help, the older knowing, because he could help Pablo come up with lies or getting him out of embarrassing situations. However, right now, he was doing the opposite and broke Pablo’s facade who now had a deep blush coloring his cheeks. 

“You good Gavi ?” asked Eric when finally, awareness hit him. He was looking at the two midfielders with confusion written on his face, the red hues on Pablo’s skin and the teasing look on Pedri’s part making him feel like he had missed on something. You had looked up at the sound of your lover’s nickname. Now, all eyes were on him and he felt overwhelmed, not sure how to respond to that. 

“Of course he is, I just reminded him of something embarrassing he had done, right ?” answered Pedro. And really, Pablo was glad. He nodded, trying by every means to avoid meeting your eyes, rather focusing them on your laptop’s screen. 

“Leave the boy alone, he’s just a small baby. We must take care of this innocent child!” and that had you choking on the leftover coffee, not really agreeing with your brother’s words. Now you were the one blushing, trying to regain your breath. “Look at that! Just like, Y/N, a small baby. I should also take care of you...” he said as he handed you a tissue to clean yourself up. Your heart was beating like crazy. Oh, if he knew. If he knew how his small, small sister would let herself be undressed by firm hands, getting on her knees and taste other things than the milk covering the bitter coffee. If he knew Pablo was the other innocent child making see her stars, and forget her own name. Guilt was also taking place in her heart, but she knew the defender wasn’t quite ready to hear that his teammate had stolen his little sister’s heart. 

“Let’s get going...” you whispered, standing up, bumping unintentionally on Pablo’s shoulder. His eyes had widened and as you apologized, he could only nod, swallowing the remaining sour taste of embarrassment. God, how much energy Pedro had to put in order to not give it away by laughing at the two youngsters. He really couldn’t understand how Eric was that obvious.

The four of you got out of the small café and went to Eric’s car, Pedro trying to keep the oldest’s attention on him to give you peace. Now, Pablo and you were following them silently, hands sometimes brushing, teasing the skin with grazes of nails. You wanted to hold his, feel the way his fingers would intertwine with yours, a warm palm meeting your cold one. Not now though, it wasn’t the time. 

You finally entered the car, Pedro rushing to be at the front, mumbling something about being the second oldest. Not that you minded, you actually liked the idea of being in the back, alone with Pablo while your brother was focused on the road and Pedro’s chatter. And that’s how found yourself sitting a seat apart from your boyfriend, glancing at each other with shy looks. His cheeks hadn’t quite gone back to normal and you loved it. It was so amusing to see the normally hot headed boy being so sensitive about the situation. You were grinning like a fool behind your locks that you had freed from the hair tie. You knew he had a matching one adorning his lips. 

To Pablo ♡ :

Don’t worry, the Moka didn’t taste nearly as good as you

☁️  

I hope you liked it! English isn’t my first language so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes!

Don’t be shy and tell me what you thought of it.

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[hlxc23]

I watched salt burn today, and it wasn’t even that bad; people are being so dramatic. My English nerd came out tho, cuz I could write a 5 page essay on the symbolism and metaphorical aspects of that movie. The bathtub scene, the vampire scene, and the grave scene all have such a deeper meaning to them THAT NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT.

⚠️SPOILERS⚠️

To sum this up and because I don’t wanna type so much lemme just do bullet points:

‼️it’s 3am and I am exhausted so if this makes no sense I apologize in advanced‼️

- the puppet thing was a literal symbol and connection to Oliver. HE WAS A PUPPET MASTER, HE WAS CONTROLLING THE WHOLE NARRATIVE. At the end when he’s dancing and the puppet thing is there with the rocks on top, each rock is representing a puppet that he controlled that he basically created.

-Oliver was an English major. HE WAS A WRITER AND READER. Being a writer and a puppet master are one of the same. He was writing his own story; his own narrative. He was controlling everything to go just as he planned it.

- to connect to the previous point: the bathtub, vampire, and grave scenes; the three main grotesque scenes of the movie. NOW THIS IS PROBABLY ME REACHING BUT LISTEN. Oliver was a writer he was creating a story one where he himself came out on top. Every story needs a beginning, middle, and end. I believe Oliver saw his body (not himself but his body iykwim) as the physical book. Consuming the cummy bath water I think could be interpreted as him consuming the beginning of life; we all know he gets off on the idea of holding life and death in his hands so to consume these aspects of his story they became sexual in a sense. The vampire scene: he was consuming life; blood is life and by consuming that directly from a living person he was consuming the middle of his story. NOW THE GRAVE SCENE: Death; he was consuming the end of his story; everything ends in death so by fucking the grave of the man who started him on his path he was ending the story in a sense. Obviously we know that wasn’t the end because more people died BUT THE SCENES HAPPENED IN ORDER AND THEY WERE THE MOST SEXUAL SCENE CONTAINING OLIVER HIMSELF.

-to connect to the puppet point: when he kills the mom (forgot her name) and she’s dead, he is trying to keep her arms up to hug him but they keep falling and he keeps trying to put them back. This was a literal scene of him acting as a puppet master, controlling the actions of a physical form physically. If that makes sense.

-the movie started with Oliver telling the story of how he may have been in love with Felix, you don’t know who he’s talking to until the end when you find out he’s basically admitting everything he did to the mother right before he kills her. He got away with everything. He’s a narcissist and he’s pretentious (as all artists are you have to be if you’re creating something because you’re creating it for others) he WANTS someone to know what he did. He WANTS the credit for his success. So by telling the mom everything beginning to end, he’s telling his story. In doing so he admits everything.

-him dancing naked: I don’t think this was meant as something sexual. I think this scene was meant to represent the freedom Oliver felt. He got everything he wanted. He achieved his goal. To further this point he looks longingly and almost admirably at the puppet box thing with the rocks on it. That was (to him) the representation of his story, of his success; it’s like when a writer finally finishes a story or an artist finally finishes a piece of art they’ve been working on for years; he’s feeling that euphoric freedom and accomplishment and it’s represented by him dancing naked in his prize; the house.

-Yes, he was sexual, and the movie in general was a sexual thing. However, I think that was to show his all consuming nature of his plan. Being one with his story.

-Smth I wish they went into detail about: his home life; why was he the way he was? Was he just born that way? Or did something traumatic happen to him for him to become what he did?

-do I think he was in love with Felix? No. I don’t think he can feel or understand the emotion of love. I think he had an obsession with Felix because he was the start of his story, he was the one that led Oliver to everything he was to achieve.

-it’s 3 am and I can’t think of anything else but I will add if I think of smth else cuz I’m definitely leaving things out 😩

[sirianasims]

Chapter 19

Insurrection - Part 1

Re: Application letter to Foxbury – Biology with elective in Veterinary Science

Dear Dr. Gilscarbo, PhD. It is with great pleasure that I submit my application for the distinguished degree in Biology at Foxbury University.

At present, I am finishing my studies at Newcrest High, and I have already secured several scholarships. My dream is to become a veterinarian and open my very own vet clinic. I feel that this would be the best way to combine my love for animals and my need to do good.

As you may be aware, my mother and father also both attended Foxbury in their youth. My mother went on to become a great astrophysicist, responsible for recently reestablishing direct contact with our neighbours on Sixam.

My father became a renowned lawyer. It is my firm belief that attending Foxbury will also put me on the path to greatness.

For this essay, I have chosen to illustrate how animals have made a great difference in my life. I do not believe that I would be who I am today without my beloved childhood dog, Maggie, and the other pets in my life.

To understand what Maggie meant to me, let me first take you back to my early childhood. When my grandfather died, my entire family was understandably distraught, and my parents decided to adopt a young pitbull from a shelter. The dog immediately sensed that I, a toddler at the time, needed her protection, and she was always by my side.

Maggie and I grew up together, and she became my trusty companion, sleeping next to my bed every night, and waiting for me when I came home from school.

She was also by my side on the night that changed both my life and Sixam relations forever.

I had gone to bed while my older brother was out with some friends, but I wasn’t asleep yet when I heard him come home. I also heard unfamiliar voices and my mother’s excited screams of disbelief.

I climbed out of bed, and went out in the hall, where I saw my parents and my brother – with two people I didn’t yet know.

Of course, my mother had told me about her adventures on Sixam, but this was their first visit back in over a decade.

After a brief introduction, my father tried to put me back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep.

I was scared because I knew that these people, who looked like my brother, could only have come to take him away.

My father tried to explain everything to me. He and my mother had been anticipating this for years.

He told me that Daniel’s biological father on Sixam was very ill and never had any other children.

It was important for my brother to go to Sixam and learn whatever he could while his father still lived, so he could take over his seat on the council.

As the first hybrid in a position of power at Sixam, my parents were worried for his safety, but his uncle, Tomnu, promised to keep him safe.

My mother, who had recently made the first breakthroughs in wormhole technology, suggested that she could go with them, to set up matching technology on Sixam, so direct communication, and perhaps later even travel, might become possible.

My father immediately asked to talk to her in private. He would not allow her to leave, and this was the first time I ever heard my parents have a serious fight.

I heard their loud voices through the wall, my father arguing that my mother couldn’t leave us, that he couldn’t lose her, and my mother crying, afraid to let her oldest son go alone. Again, Maggie comforted me.

I am happy that my mother decided to stay, and instead teach the Sixams as much as possible, so that they could set up the other portal on Sixam. If she had left, she might not have come back. My brother still has not.

beginning / previous / next

[goodluckclove]

I have spent some time now trying to formulate a question but every time i arrive back at there's probably no answer. OH. So. (Please ignore if you do not want to answer or can't or whatever. I'm thinking instead of sleeping and that tends to lead to strange thoughts.)

Where does creativity come from? Like, how do people get that spark that turns into an idea an universe. How do they step outside what they have experienced (tropes, stories), and... create something of their own.

I don't know. The answer is probably somewhere between "it just comes" and "they listen and notice it" (as in they are not in something resembling chronic creative burnout).

Writing looks fun. Creating stories. Having a world take shape in your imagination. I enjoy getting glimpses into that process and seeing the end products. (I would love to try it myself but it's one of those "so far away i have zero idea where to start" things. Where on the other hand rants, thoughts, concepts *prompted* by anything and routed in something already existing seem to come freely and turn into whole essays (sometimes at least). Oh well.)

I really don't know. Please ignore if this is weird. I should maybe have some water.

Take care if where you are it's also way too hot. Have water or rest or whatever might be good in that moment, if you want. I hope your day goes as well as can be, with nice moments and strength for the hard ones. (How do people end asks i am not good at people today.)

Hi! You sent this to me a while ago and I hadn't answered it, but I've been thinking about it a lot. I think I'm finally settled enough to answer it.

I think every human being - at least every that I've come across - possesses innate creativity and the ability to make art. I never believed in the concept of god-given "talent" and actually find the concept deeply patronizing as, in my mind, it implies no real effort. Which is bullshit. I will call an artist capable, honest, skilled, passionate - I will never call them talented.

Children are creative in their natural state and in their own way. What happens is an exposure to poison over the years. Your favorite books and movies aren't good for the reasons you like them, or if they are it doesn't matter because they're not real art. People project what they think art is onto you and negate any opportunity for you to grow and form your own sense of intuition.

Or you're never given a chance to really explore art at all. No one makes an effort to show you books you can relate to, so you decide you don't like reading. You think the stuff at art museums is just stuffy Old Dead Guy paintings, and since no one suggests you explore otherwise you never explore painting or sculpting as something accessible to you. It's an unbelievable tragedy to me and I cringe inwardly every time someone tells me they just aren't creative.

There are no uncreative people. There are no boring people. There are only people who were lied to and demeaned until they felt the only real option was to deny themselves the language of communicating through art and storytelling. And that's fucking horrible.

So how can you move past that? I talk to a lot of "aspiring writers" (another term I despise), who tell me blocks in their creative process that keep them from doing the work they want to do. Oftentimes I just respond by asking who told you that? Was it a teacher who was unable to finish their novel because of some poison they consumed? A parent who only sees you through the lens of a career they've decided you're meant to pursue to have value in the world? Perhaps a stranger on the Internet who realized that you can gain a facade of illusory "respect" by making individual taste and limited artistic scope as an overall rule of thumb everyone else has to follow?

Once you find the root of what makes you feel fundamentally severed from creativity, you can start to undo the hold it has over you. You might have to start further back than what feels good for the ego. If you struggle to write a long-term project, maybe you just need to write something. Anything. Just play with fragments and develop a foundation of actually confirming you're able to take up space. Because you are and you absolutely should.

Big ramble but this is a really important topic to me. Don't know where to start? There are really no wrong movies! People watch and wonder what their lives are like! Explore a single plot point of character without worrying about an overarching narrative! As discouraging as it can feel to struggle in a way so many other people seem perfectly well-versed in, it is never too late to develop creativity in your life!