#That actually the book I wanna write. since it’s based on my own memories and experiences

[ykaaaras]

Eventually memories fade away, so do people.

[authorforrosie]

Book: Little had Jennie known

Pairing: Jennie x You. [GxG]

Warning: Angst

Words count:

Author Note: This imagine is based on the song little do you know and skin. This imagine will be more angsty than happy. SInce I´ve been more into writing about angst instead of fluff, Since life is not a fairytale.

Little do you know, I am breakin´while you fall asleep

Little do you know

i`m still haunted by the memories.

After everything that happened between you and Jennie you still have been haunted by the memories. It still felt like yesterday when you got a phone call by Jennie about her sleeping with another woman. You knew you´ve been broken up since a few weeks. It still hurt though it felt like thousand thorns getting though the heart. Especially because you promised at each other to always come back for each other. Since that´s how much you love each other or at least supposed to be.

You tried not to cry on the phone especially since Jennie could hear the pain in your voice. You know how sympathetic Jennie is and that she will start to cry as well. You thought about muting yourself so she won´t be able to hear you cry. Mostly because you could swallow down your feelings or tears of heartbreak pain. You didn´t know what to say or feel about the situation. You remembered how she told you that she is in love with you. You´ve never doubted her or her words until the phone call. Until you got to know that she slept with another woman on the night to your supposed anniversary. She even slept over at Jennie´s expensive house in South Korea. You´ve been insecure thinking that a woman from her country would be better to date for her instead of you.

At this moment you felt haunted by the memories. You still heard her voice though the phone, her whispered apologies and the sadness in her voice. You thought Jennie was asleep whenever you turned your back towards her when you felt tears rolling down your cheeks, mostly when you cried painfully or silently.

Layin´in my bed a little lonely,

I wanna know how she taste, can you show me

You´ve been crying during the days after break up because of how much you still love her, You won´t have hesitated to take her back anytime and to come back for her.

Now that you know she slept with someone else during the night to your supposed anniversary you wondered how the other woman tasted like. You wondered why she picked her and started something with you. Wasn´t you supposed to be special. Didn´t she say that she is yours only no matter what happens.

I-I-I, I wonder if she knows

That I see her every time

my eyes close

taking off your clothes,

don´t know how to cope

I hate the way my mind is

a bedroom window

I wish my lips were her

lips on your lips

I wish my hips were her

hips on your hips

Didn´t you tell her that I exist

You´ve been seeing the other woman on social media,

since you already knew that Jennie talked to her friendly during your relationship

before the break up. You already had a bad feeling about her at that time. You might have thought that something might have happened, you actually didn´t expect that something would happen between Jennie and the other woman from her country.

You know that it´s okay that Jennie slept with the other woman a few days after your break up and got together with her a few days later. You just wondered why would she cause you pain like that. According to her own words she wasn´t supposed to be in a new relationship since she promised you that you would be her last.

Since you knew about the other woman you couldn´t help yourself from comparing yourself to her. You wondered what the other woman had that you didn´t. You got drunk whenever you felt like crying or whenever Jennie talked about the other woman or even mentions her name. Since you didn´t wanna feel anything. Alcohol helped you to drink your feelings away. It helped you to cope with pain and numbing the sadness.

You caught your brain doubting Jennie sometimes whenever its her phone notifications, mention her name, seeing her react on the other woman´s post or even them following each other. You asked yourself everyday if you are allowed to let your brain doubt her sometimes, your reactions on her name being mentioned, getting scared of a possibility of Jennie getting a notification by her. Jennie reacting on her post or even them following each other.

Little do you know

I´m trying to pick up myself piece by piece

Litlle do you know

I need a little more time

Underneath it all I´m held captive by the hole inside

I´ve been holding back for the fear you might change your mind

I´m ready to forgive, but forgettin´is a harder fight.

You´ve been getting a little bit more clingy and sometimes more distant towards Jennie since you´ve been holding back. You felt captive underneath the fear of Jennie changing her mind and giving the other woman a chance. You´ve been trying to pick up yourself piece by piece in hopes to fix your broken heart, You only need a little bit more time for the harder fight to forget about what happened. You´ve been ready to forgive Jennie completely. You still get captive underneath the fear of possibility of breaking up with you since she has been talking a lot about that subject.

Everything around you was slowly changing for better because every new chapter is a new chance, new opportunities. You wanted to learn how to become better for yourself. At the same time you held hopes that Jennie will always be by yourself. As your girlfriend. Only the future could tell what would happen to you both and what direction your relationship goes into. You only always had four important questions in the back of your mind. Does she love you as much as you love her? is she truly in love with you? most important can she see a futue with you only? does she wants to be yours for the rest of her life? only her actions now and in the future could tell.

[otwdfanfic]

For the wip ask game!! Dude both For the Dancing and the Dreaming and The Susan Problem intrigue me so much (I don't think you've ever mentioned For the Dancing and the Dreaming LMAO)

As for The Susan Problem, that's always such a good premise. I adore Narnia and have been interested in that particular part of the story for ages now!! I'm very curious as to how you're gonna tackle it!!

If you don't mind, would you like to share some things about these wips? <333

Phew, sorry I took so long to respond but I was rushing all week to make a costume for the new hunger games movie premiere! I finished it just in time to see the movie yesterday

I don't wanna accidentally spoil plot stuff but For the Dancing and the Dreaming will be a short Snoggletog focused fic, sort of the otwd version of Gift of the Night Fury and Homecoming but it will progress the plot. No huge drama but a lot of interpersonal drama and cozy Snoggletog vibes (idk if you can tell from itpn but I'm just obsessed with the vibes of Snoggletog on Berk). There's 3 things in this fic I'm really excited for:

It takes place a full year after itpn, so we get updates on how everyone's doing and there's a larger time jump between itpn and totg that this fic sits in the middleish of

It's split between the POVs of the whole gang, not just the 3 (including Baldur in his fic) POVs we've seen so far. However there will be 1 new POV in itpn, so there's really only 1 new one left for this

Cute new outfits! Idk if I'll have the energy for the usual fancy character portraits but I'll at least sketch them all like I did for Zephyr's Thawfest dress.

The Susan Problem is named after Gaiman's famous "The Problem of Susan" essay. I don't agree with the idea that there's a sexism problem with Lewis's portrayal of Susan rejecting Narnia in the last book since she's based on his own experience losing his faith as an adult and then returning later. He said that Susan would find her way back to Aslan's Country on her own, so I tried to imagine what that story might look like if he'd written it:

After a year or two living in America, Susan returns to Cambridge for Christmas with her aunt and uncle. She tends to avoid painful memories after her family all died in the book 7 train crash, but oddly her aunt finds her bow and horn in the attic storage. When Susan curiously blows the horn she accidentally brings some of the things that couldn't be destroyed with the rest of Narnia, like the gods Tash and Bacchus, into our world along with some of her vague Narnian memories. I include a lot of strange things like moving stained glass windows, snow sprites dancing in a blizzard, and Peter's voice which is revealed to be the god Apollo acting as a sort of guardian angel guiding her to save our world from some of the darker entities that have crept through the door. Inspired by Lewis's writing about Apollo on a trip to Delphi, the inclusion of greek myth in Narnia, and use of sun imagery with Aslan and Peter, Apollo here is actually another form of Aslan.

I LOVE Lewis's strange, abstract and Hellenistic portrayal of Christianity in Narnia. The borderline fever dream quality it often has feels very me, like Nuffink's dream about the three suns and tall grass and the red man. So I really enjoyed creating my own Narnia story with a Christmas fever dream quality to it! Here's a snippet of my favorite part:

The spectral form became more and more solid, like a person walking toward you with a spotlight behind him. The light dazzled her eyes, and she squinted into it. “Susan,” he repeated. As he stepped forward she could just make out his brilliant golden hair and magnificent shining crown. “Peter!” she shrieked, rushing towards the light and into the very glow that surrounded him. “Oh, Peter, I knew that you were only—” But she stopped short, because within the light he became clear, and she realized with a start that the man wasn’t her brother at all. His crown was rays of pure golden rippling light, not rubies and oak leaves. His hair flowed around his collarbone like Peter’s once had a long time ago, when he was much older than the age he’d died. This man looked her brother’s age though, and his face had the youthful but strong, honest, kingly look of Peter’s. She felt all kinds of sorrow and longing and curiosity. Wariness, too. “Who are you?” The specter smiled softly. “Gentle Susan of the Horn,” he greeted her with a deep, familiar voice. “I am called Apollo, the destroyer.” She frowned. “The destroyer,” she repeated, taking an unconscious step back, but his smile only grew in a way that reached his eyes, light crow’s feet crinkling with amusement. She found that when she stepped away, he became more obscured. “Do not worry,” he told her. “I am the lord of plagues and truth, but I am also the bringer of cures and protector of the herd. The bow you carry is mine, for I am the lord of archery. I am the southern sun, sworn to you. Harm will not come to you by my hand.”

[tuulikki]

It’s a fun idea to play with and if you write something like that, send it my way! You may also want to look into the action movie, “The Thirteenth Warrior” (1999), based on the Michael Crichton book, Eaters of the Dead (1976). If you’re a Loki fan, my guess is you might have a passing interest in Vikings? So if I give the hint of “Ibn Fadlan, Beowulf, and our current topic of discussion”, hopefully you’re intrigued but not spoiled.

But the idea that Neanderthals inspired folkloric/mythological humanoids is the polar opposite of my point. I’m saying we have no reason to assume Homo sapiens saw Neanderthals as an Other; mythical humanoids are Other, by definition. Not saying you can’t play with a fictional “what if”, because that’s how stories get written, but storytelling and anthropological data are obviously separate things.

I have no reason to think you’re taking a fictional idea seriously, so I’d never assume you have anything but disdain for any of the old-school armchair anthropologist views that folklore must “actually be about” some primitive ancient memory bubbling up from the mythic racial subconscious. But I hope I can gently give the heads-up that even a joke in that direction can trigger a knee-jerk “yikes” from folks who have had long fights manning the trenches against Jung, Freud, Campbell, overzealous Victorians analysing folktales of “peoples too primitive to understand their own history”, et. al.

I can’t stress enough that I don’t want to yuck your yum, though, because I like to play around with a lot of theories I also specifically know are pseudoscience or anachronistic bullshit. I’ve seen “The Thirteenth Warrior” multiple times on purpose and even have semi-nostalgic feelings for Clan of the Cave Bear. No hypocrisy from me, here.

I just wanna draw an emphasising line between my post and your (totally welcome! ❤️) addition using that post as a springboard to a new thought in a new genre, since I do care a lot about my original point. I warned I was humourless about it. Forgive me 😂

The thing is that the portrayal of Neanderthals as having been inherently grotesque and alien to H. sapiens is something we will never have proof of. But we do have proof that, in different locations and in different populations across time, we all found eachother desirable. We saw eachother and wanted to touch. And the offspring were held by their mothers and raised and had their own offspring in turn.

When you look for the first proof that H. sapiens found Neanderthals repulsive, you have to wait until the Victorian era, when the white masters of empires were busy portraying Neanderthals as stupid, brutish, and (of course) dark-skinned.

In more modern times, we’ve had people arguing that instead of seeing Neanderthals as Benighted Savages, they should instead be seen as Noble Savages, (allegedly) cruelly destroyed and driven from their lands by H. sapiens. Which one of their two you believe says more about your modern political views than it does about ancient H. sapiens.

And, whether we construct Neanderthals as Savage or Noble Savage, the fundamental assumption we project into the unfathomably distant past is still that H. sapiens saw Neanderthals as an Other, with the language we use being almost explicitly that of modern racial dynamics.

But we have no proof of any of that. We have no proof of hostilities. We know we co-existed and we had sex. That’s it.

Humans obviously have sex with some humans and kill others. We also know that, when small groups of humans occupy vast spaces with infrequent contact with others, unique cultures will always form, some more hospitable, some more neophobic/xenophobic. But many cultures of small settlements placed among huge unpeopled landscapes place supreme emphasis on hospitality to strangers. Plus, we fucking love other social animals, as evidenced by how we befriended wolves.

I’m a humourless weirdo and a wet blanket about popular constructions of Neanderthals as “monstrous”, and I freely admit it. But that’s because it’s tied up in legacies of imperialism. Not only that, but it also privileges one culture (yours, mine, modernity’s) as being most human by implicitly assuming we can project it onto people in the past. Since you don’t pretend that all global cultures share exact same values as you do, it doesn’t take more than a few moments’ reflection to realise you can’t do that to the past.

[kyuohki]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Final Fantasy Tactics Advance Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Original Character/Original Character Characters: Marche Radiuju, Montblanc, Original Characters Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Whump, Secrets, Rescue Missions, Self-Worth Issues, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Aged-Up Character(s), (bc when I wrote this I forgot how old the charas were), Blood and Violence Series: Part 1 of Discarded Hope Summary:

When a rival clan is paid to bring Marche and Clan Ragnarok down, the altruistic leader is stolen away to Clan Uroborus’ home base in Jagd Helje. Olgan, Ragnarok’s main healer, is outed as a former member of Uroborus, and after he is accused of betraying Ragnarok, he leaves on his own to save Marche. Kemal, Ragnarok’s brash monk, chases after Olgan, angry that the young mage left to save Marche on his own, as well as fearful for his safety.

But Olgan has more secrets in his past than Clan Ragnarok is aware of, and his history with his former Clan’s leader might be his, and Marche’s, downfall…

~*~

And that's a wrap for this Fic-o-Doom(TM)! Thanks for reading with me! :D

(There's gonna be a side story later in the weekend, so please look forward to it!)

To be honest, I could've just posted the whole thing in one drop since it was completed years ago, but wanted to read through it myself and write commentary on each chapter. It was fun, and actually made me love this "little" story even more! I didn't cringe over the writing as much as I thought I would, though it does have a very rushed and rough draft feel to it (I caught the fact I used clichéd descriptions in one spot, though! "Blue ORBS!" Ahahaha! *facepalm*)

I'm probably gonna do a re-write eventually. But I think I'll start drafting other bits to this verse. I want to go into how I think the Grimore actually works, and it'll break off of the game into full angsty AU; and I wanna write about Kemal, Matius, and Gavvar/Lilila backstories. And the how/why of Olgan (which will also force me to write about other OCs, and I'm both nervous and excited about, bc they're from FF7, FF9, and Suikoden; and while they live in my head rent free, it's been a long while since I've finished either game and my memory is spotty on their plots, and fitting them into a coherent story is gonna be a headache.)

(Another part of me wants to file all the serial numbers off and see if I can write a coherent *book* out of these all these ideas and OCs...we'll see.)

[furiousgoldfish]

Since I'm struggling so bad with the dissociative identity disorder lately, I keep wishing I had a therapist to talk it over with. It can't happen, because in the country where I live in, it's not a recognized disorder yet. Still, I get curious about what is known about it, I'll write a bit about that, and it's probably just going to be funny to those who already know what a dissociative identity disorder is.

So by the chance of fate, I happen to work for a psychiatrist, who doesn't know I have any such illnesses, and will not find out (I don't wanna get institutionalized). However, since I do work for them, I sometimes have access to their studying materials, to their diagnostic tools and little workbooks, and if I have a moment, I will secretly grab one of these books and fervently look through to see what they're all about.

I have learned many unsettling things, for example, you can be diagnosed with 'a case of bad nerves' if you come in with symptoms of anxiety and paranoia. You can also be diagnosed with 'hysteric delusions', still. Your spouse can come talk to a psychiatrist and complain about you, and they'll diagnose you with something immediately. PTSD is the end of the line for the psychiatric disorders, and you can only get diagnosed with it if you've partaken in a war. No other way to have ptsd here.

No diagnostic tools or workbooks even mentioned a dissociative disorder.

Then I thought, okay, this is bad, they're definitely not teaching people to recognize or diagnose this, and at this point I suspect people are getting massively misdiagnosed with victim-blaming crap and even the diagnostic tools are telling psychiatrists to diagnose them exactly like that.

But then I also decide to google it in my own language, like there must be some sort of info on it, right? And I find a scientific article about it. And I'm going to translate to you exactly what I read in that article:

"Dissociative identity disorder, or dissociative personality disorders are marked with change of feeling of identity, memory or consciousness. People with this disorder can forget important events from their past, or even temporarily forget who they are, or even take on a new identity. They can even wander off from their usual environment, in a foreign direction."

I don't even know how to react to this. Even if I did get diagnosed, all I would be labeled as is 'has amnesia, wanders off' disorder. And I’m going to be honest, I don’t even wander off anymore. I’m unfit to be diagnosed.

-

I feel bad for putting out all of this misinformation now, so for those who are somehow reading up to this point without knowing what a dissociative identity disorder actually is, here’s a definition from Wikipedia:

“Dissociative identity disorder (DID), previously known as multiple personality disorder (MPD), and colloquially known as split personality disorder, is a mental disorder characterized by the maintenance of at least two distinct and relatively enduring personality states.The disorder is accompanied by memory gaps more severe than could be explained by ordinary forgetfulness. The personality states alternately show in a person's behavior; however, presentations of the disorder vary.“

For people who have it, it can feel like you have different versions of yourself in your head, voices inside of you that are talking to you, or different people in your head who not only talk to you, but can take control over your body, or ‘switch’. They all exist to protect you and hold traumatic memories, hold different aspects of your personality, and they have different needs that need to be fulfilled. Alters can be very different from each other, and have developed different mindsets, priorities and goals, as they are shaped based on different memories and experiences they’ve had. They exist to make it possible for a child to go through severe trauma, and be able to survive it and keep functioning almost as if it didn’t happen.

[dreamcatcherrs]

random technoblade dating hcs

+ reminder! you might not at all have the same interests as the ‘y/n’ in this hc, but this is just based off the type of person I imagine techno would have really good chemistry with. interests, actions, outlook on life etc.

song recommendation: sparks - coldplay

he loooves recommending books to you

especially the ones that mean the most to him

like, ones from his childhood that he still reads to this day

you reccommed books to each other literally all the time

and when you read them, you ‘go your separate ways’

like, sitting in your own corner of the couch

note: I also headcannon techno with a small man bun and glasses sitting under a blanket- it’s just too perfect

and when you’re done you cuddle up together

and then talk for hours about every thought you had about the books you read

you two also drink a looot of tea

I’m surprised you don't have to pee every 2 minutes

techno is really really good at feedback

he might've dropped out of college, but he was still an english major

it’s just in his nature to criticise something he’s suggested to you and likes himself

this might come as a little bit of a surprise, but techno loves it when you cook together

I could imagine that he’s the type to say “I’m really not that good at cooking” but then is actually extremely good at it

to him cooking is just a stress reliever - something to get his mind off of things

and then when it’s with you, it’s even better

you could definitely plead him into wearing a “kiss the chef” apron

and even if he groans about hating it, he secretly has a soft spot for how giggly you get when you see him giving in to wearing it

he adores forehead kisses

there’s just something about your forehead that makes him wanna kiss it

even if you're literally doing nothing

zoning out mid-conversation with someone else? forehead kiss

so focused on doing something to a perfect extent? forehead kiss

so tired that you can barely even keep your eyes open, actual drool falling from your mouth? forehead kiss

let’s just say; if he’s not kissing your forehead within 2 hours of being with you, something’s wrong

speaking of kisses; he enjoys them more when they’re not on your lips

it’s an underrated preference of his, but it really shows in the way he shows affection

he’s always kissing your hand, shoulder, cheek, forehead - anywhere where there’s access to your skin tbh

and does it with such tenderness and so much softness

he also tends to slowly caress your arm or leg while cuddling

sometimes without even noticing

he’d be teasing you so often

but the things he teases you about are actually the things he find so special about you and really likes about you

he really likes learning new things from you

and then picking up on some of your habits

it’s just another thing to remind him of how head over heels for you he actually is

when he really needs comfort, holding his hand or engulfing him in your arms is the way to go

doesn't matter it you're silent or not while doing it - it helps him feel so so much better either way

and he does the exact same with you

maybe even brushing his hand though your hair while gently hushing you

and reminds you that you don't have to talk if you don't want to and is just super sweet

he’s a lot better at handling other people’s emotions than he thinks

and gives really good advice afterwards

he really appreciates it when you take care of him

like bringing him food while he’s busy with something else because it’s getting late and you just know he’ll forget

or when you remind him that everything doesn't have to be perfect and done all at once

and when you silently sling a scarf around his neck because it’s, like, one degree colder than yesterday

and he can never forget the countless of times where you give him that smile

the one that makes him forget about all of his problems and only think about you, you, you

the one that reminds him that you love him and are always there for him

you two have started an ongoing thing without even noticing, which is sharing a glass of wine together over a nice homemade dinner on a friday evening, binge-watching movies that you both find nostalgic or memorable in some way and just enjoying each other’s company

and it’s really nice ;(

you force him out of the house when it’s been literal weeks since he’s seen the sun shine

and go for short walks to random places

I feel like he’d really enjoy showing you the places he used to roam

his old college for example

even though he dropped out - he still has a lot of memories from there that he’d love to tell you about

he’s kind of like your local tour guide - though he’s only telling you stories about himself

which just makes it even better

when in crowded places, he always has a protective hand on your back

it’s just a natural reflex at this point

if he knows you’ll be walking alone in the dark, he makes sure you always call him

so you won't be completely “alone”

or he’ll just pick you up himself if you're far away from home

techno spoils you so much, too

and even when you tell him to stop, it’s hard for him to

he just wants to do anything to make you happy

you’d book a cabin once in a while

for just the two of you

for occasions where everything around you can seem a little too loud

and it’s always suuuper cozy

you guys always help each other fall asleep

you basically just talk until you're both too tired to do it anymore

and he’ll always make sure you're snuggled up nicely in his arms before dozing off :)

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​ @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys​ @squiddyyyy​ @c0wc0ww​ @animeweeb019284​ @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures​ @trappedchest​ @punzrights​ @trashgremlin36​ @cyberrsoot​ @elebeleb​ @k3nn3dis-crap​ @karlshoodies​ @rascal-in-banishment​ @heartbroken-writer​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @ihavenoideashelp​ @goldiefox1​ @bethybop​ @helluhru​ @venuzblr​ @phased-sun @cscooop​  

[mikeysagereblog]

ooh, this looks fun!!!

🖍 i haven't told anyone yet, but i would tell my best friend!!

❤ i'm torn between hobie brown and spider-noir 0_0 my heart says hobie because he'd be a whole lot of fun, but my brain says noir because he'd be more responsible as a cg

🩹 me personally, i feel like i'm in a floaty/dreamlike state!! i also tend to stumble over my words, if that makes sense

🧡 i try to regress at least once or twice a week, especially after a bad day/week.

🍬 actually, i write my own!! i leave them in my drafts so that they're for my eyes only. i mainly write about hobie brown, and what it'd be like if he was my cg ^_^

💛 since i regress to around 3-5, i'd be in preschool!!

🧸 i'm a middle child who regresses!! i have an older brother and a younger sister. i haven't told either of them about my regression, though

💚 i was considered an "old soul" growing up. mainly because i had to raise myself most of the time.

🧩 i have a webkinz koala named seymour!!

💙 my regression aesthetic isn't really set in stone. sometimes all i wanna wear is pink and cutesy clothes and have tea parties, sometimes i wanna dress in graphic tees and overalls and play outside. it depends on how i feel!!

🍭 i've been on agere tumblr for a few months now!!

💜 in my littlespace, i'm obessed with spider-man!!! (even when i'm big too!!)

🍼 since my childhood wasn't the best, i like to make new memories when regressed. i do incorporate small bits of nostalgia into my regression as well, though. (for me, it's spider-man, playing with my webkinz koala named seymour, and creating comics based on seymour, since those were things i enjoyed as a kid!!)

🖤 i haven't met any other regressors/cgs in real life just yet!!

🪀 i've accidentally regressed around my best friend once or twice, but i was able to pretend to be big!!

🪁 my littlespace is affected by watching cartoons, (spectacular spider-man in particular) watching my favorite/comfort youtubers, (markiplier and wendigoon) or playing my favorite games!! (spider-man: miles morales, royale high, and the sims 4)

🎨 i've always wanted to have a paci!! i have a tendency to bite/chew on things, so i think a paci would help with that!! (bonus points if it's a spider-man one!!)

🍬 i haven't experienced vent regression.

🦋 though i'm still trying to accept my regression, i'm mostly comfortable with it!!

🧚‍♀️ regression is like my own little world, where i can give myself the childhood i've always wanted/never got to have.

🧦 in the agere community, i like how helpful other littles/cgs are!! i love how we can share our experiences and help each other like one big family!! what i don't like, however, is the small percentage of the agere community that are very strict to what regression is. regression should be comfortable for you and something you enjoy, and nobody should be deciding how you should regress.

🦇 i've regressed in a dream before!! i had a dream where i had a playdate with my best friend. it was fun!!

🌸 i headcanon hobie brown and spider-noir as cgs, pavitr prabhakar as a flip, and spectacular spider-man as a regressor!!

🐈‍⬛ as a trans boy regressor, i feel as though i'm not very represented.

🧃 a koala best represents my littlespace!! (ex: sleepiness, clinginess, wanting a snack when i'm regressed)

🐇 i've been trying to find a cg, but it's been a bit hard. i struggle with taking care of myself, so having someone help me and remind me to take care of myself would help a lot!!

🎀 my regression mostly matches the gear i want!! for instance, i regress to around 3-5, so i want a paci, more stuffies, coloring books, etc.

🎮 i haven't tried playing pretend very much. the most i've come to playing pretend is playing toca life on my phone. i'm very imaginative when it comes to that, though!!

🌈 i would rather be an elf!!

👾 the quickest way to get me to regress is babytalking me!!

💭 i don't have a cg, but if i did, i'd like them to cuddle me while watching cartoons with me!!

🌙 Agere Ask Game!!! ⭐

🖍 Who is the first person you told/would tell about your headspace?

❤ If you had a fictional caregiver/little who would it be?

🩹 What do you experience when you regress? (i.e fuzzy feelings, motor skill or speech struggle, etc.)

🧡 How often do you regress or try to regress?

🍬 Do you read agere fanfiction and if so, about who?

💛 What school grade (if any) would you be in according to your headspace?

🧸 Are you an older sibling who regresses/caregives or a younger sibling who regresses/caregives?

💚 Were you considered an "old soul" growing up or were you more "childish"?

🧩 What was your first piece of agere gear or what would you want as your first?

💙 What's your regression/caregiving aesthetic? (kidcore, babycore, altcore, etc)

🍭 How long have you been apart of agere tumblr?

💜 What are you obsessed with right now in your headspace? (sanrio, sharks, bluey, etc)

🍼 Do you include your personal nostalgia in your regression/caregiving or are you creating new memories?

🖤 Have you met any other regressors/caregivers in real life?

🪀 Have you ever regressed in front of someone or has someone ever regressed around you?

🪁 Is your headspace affected more through traditional or alternative regression? (bottles & cartoons or horror & thrill)

🎨 What's a piece of agere gear that you really want to have/try?

🍬 Have you ever experienced vent regression?

🦋 Are you comfortable with your regression/headspace?

🧚‍♀️ What is age regression/caregiving to you?

🧦 What's something you like & don't like about the agere community?

🦇 Have you ever regressed in a dream?

🌸 Who do you headcanon as a regressor or caregiver? (fictional or real)

🐈‍⬛ Do you think you're represented enough in the agere community? (poc, boys, under 20/over 30 yrs)

🧃Which animal best represents your headspace?

🐇 Has it been or was it hard for you to find a little/caregiver?

🎀 Does your headspace match the gear you use/want? (i.e. regresses to 10 years but loves pacifiers)

🎮 Do you struggle to play pretend or are you super imaginative?

🌈 What mythical creature would you rather be? (Hybrid, Fairy, Dragon, etc)

👾 What's the quickest way to get you in your headspace?

💭 What's one thing you often daydream about doing with your little/caregiver?

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards Pt. V

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI

    Alright so maybe you spoke too soon; the four of you were going to do great things, minus Tommy. Technoblade had finally agreed to let you join Tommy and him on an adventure into L’manberg. The plan was to crash their festival, and ultimately attempt to get Tommy’s discs back from Dream and Tubbo. You expected your first adventure into the country to be fun, if anything you’d get to steal some shit, what you didn’t expect was to be thrown in the middle of a public dispute. 

Clearly, you underestimated what ‘getting the discs back’ actually entailed. 

You and Technoblade were back to back swords drawn, surrounded by about thirty people in the ruin of what was once deemed a community house. Technoblade never would’ve agreed to let you come if he thought the confrontation with Dream was going to be this serious, he assumed they’d watch from afar. If things got to dicey Tommy and him would rush in and he’d have you stay behind to watch from afar. If only he could’ve predicted someone blowing up a random building would cause such turmoil. 

Nothing could ever come up Technoblade.

   “Yah know when you first invited me out to partake in a festival for some reason I didn’t expect to be attacked by like thirty people.” You chirped a hesitant smile on your face as Technoblade made a confused sound. 

   “You definitely should’ve expected it,” Technoblade grumbled, barely taking his eyes off of Tommy and Tubbo’s argument. You watched Techno’s back but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys conversation as well. As much as your heart broke for the two war-torn children, you had your alliance first and foremost with your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel this conversation should be happening privately but here they were airing things out seemingly for the first time in front of everybody. Speaking of your boyfriend, your attention was drawn back to him as he caught Tommy’s attention, “be very careful what your decision is here Tommy.” 

You narrowed your eyes and took a step in front of Technoblade, he made his classic ‘heh’ sound as you did so. You felt his hand grip your forearm and tighten trying to hold you back in case you wanted to do something stupid. 

   “Tommy, come home with us.” You held out your hand to him, the one Technoblade didn’t have a hold of obviously. “Phil’s waiting for us, we’ll get your discs back together as we planned.” The smile on your face could part the cloudiest of days and it broke Tommy’s heart, she had given him something that he hadn’t had since the war with Dream began.

A home. 

   “(Y/N),” That’s the first time he used your name, the first time you weren’t just Ms Blade. It broke your heart and you whimpered a little bit, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But I can’t go back with you and Technoblade. I don’t like what I’ve become, this isn’t me. I’m sorry. I hope one day we can be friends again. Tubbo give Dream my disc.” You leaned back into Technoblade in disbelief, Tommy had just betrayed Technoblade right before your very eyes. The man who gave Tommy the clothes on his back and a place to stay when no one else would. Weapons to help him fight against Dream when everyone else abandoned him, even though they all treated Technoblade as a weapon he still went out of his way to help Tommy. Your hands clenched into fists at your side as Dream let out a roaring laugh collecting the disc from Tubbo. He called the two children stupid right to their face and no matter how angry you were with them that was harsh, it’s like everyone in this country forgets that they are children. Children fuck up, it’s how they learn and it’s in their nature why does no one here understand that. You looked up at Techno your eyebrows furrowed and you pressed your lips tight but he didn’t take his eyes off Dream, he had different priorities in mind. 

Protecting you from the Dreamon if anything went south. 

Dream continued to mock and criticize the people of L’manberg before turning to you and Technoblade. The mask he wore may hide his facial expressions, but it couldn’t mask the unadulterated glee in his voice. Technoblade pulled you behind him as Dream stepped closer to the both of you, you felt a growl rumble in Technoblade’s chest, 

   “That’s close enough.” 

   “Down boy.” Dream mused, holding up his hands to show faux innocence. “I have no issues with the both of you. Tomorrow, with your help, Technoblade and woman.”  

   “(Y/N).”

   “Don’t tell him your name.” Technoblade gaped at you and you only could huff in frustration, 

   “Better than just being called woman! Plus Tommy already said it.”  

With an eye-roll Dream continued his speech, “With the help of Technoblade and (Y/N) L’manberg is going to be a crater. We’re blowing it sky-high.” Dream turned over to face Tubbo once again, “I had to pretend to be friends with you, to get the dumb disk back! I don't care about you. I'm not your friend. Okay? I cared about getting the disk back, and I got the disk back. I got it back. And that's-that's- that's the only thing that really matters. You can't even run your nation right. RANBOO IS A TRAITOR. ONE OF YOUR MOST TRUSTED FRIENDS.”

Your eyes widened as you spotted another child looking horrified, it was the half enderman from the butcher gang. You’re adopting him next.

   “NO, IT IS TRUE. READ THIS BOOK. READ THIS BOOK. There's his memory book. He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them EVERYTHING. The proof’s all his own memories! He writes it down! You can't even run your own nation correctly Tubbo. Listen. Tubbo, you, I mean you, ... L'Manberg is weaker than it's ever been, and it's because of you! You have- you have destroyed everything. You have ruined your friendships. You have ruined L'Manberg's allies. You have just-you are a horrible president Tubbo.” Dream continued as Tubbo looked sick to his stomach, you felt just as nauseous.

   “YEAH, YOU SUCK TUBBO!”

   “TECHNOBLADE!” 

   “What?” He flinched at your tone, “he’s right!” 

   “They’re children,” You tried to argue but Dream cut you off by stepping in between you and Technoblade. Your pulse skyrocketed as you were separated, and you made sure an ender pearl was at the ready. Tommy looked at the both fo you nervously, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes when you defended Tubbo. Tommy turned over to Tubbo who honestly looked just as shocked that a partner of Technoblade’s would defend him, espeically considering he had tried to kill her a few days prior. Tommy had hope that he wasn’t completely dead to you.

   “Techno. Got any withers?” You watched a sickening smile spread across Techno’s lips he picked at his nails. 

   “I got a few.” 

   “Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow when the L’manberg loses its last cannon life,” Dream announced before disappearing into the wind. The citizens turned to face you and Technoblade, he only had to utter a single word:

   “Run,” Before both of you pearled away from the wreckage of the community house. 

Technoblade scooped you up in his arms as he made his way through the Nether portal back to his base. He was much faster than you were and you didn’t fight him on wanting to make a quick getaway. You both were silent on the way back to his base, bottom line was you didn’t know how you felt about what just went down. On one hand, destruction was your middle name and you weren’t going to oppose blowing a government to smithereens with your boyfriend.  

Nothing could be more romantic than that. 

Yet at the same time, unlike Technoblade, you felt the guilt eat away at you. These were people’s homes, and lives you’d be destroying tomorrow. Most of the citizens you had no affiliation with, which you were grateful for, but those you did you almost couldn’t justify blowing the country up. Tommy was by all accounts dead to Technoblade and by that extent you as well. Still, you didn’t want to see him physically dead, it wasn’t his fault he got corrupted by the government and a homeless teletubby.

You were starting to sound like Technoblade now too.  

You made a sound of distress and Techno glanced down at your form, his face flushed as you nuzzled your nose against his neck. 

   “You okay princess?” 

   “No…” You answered with a sigh, you reached out and twirled a strand of his pink hair through your fingers. “Tommy’s gone, we’re going to blow up a country tomorrow. I feel bad for the people we’re gonna leave homeless. So, no I’m not okay bubs.” The socially awkward man winced a little as he battled with what to say to you, he tends to forget you both aren’t the same person. For as much as both of you agree, you were still different from him, you had more empathy than he could ever wish to have. 

   “You don’t have to come.”  

He watched a frown appear on your face as you pulled away from him. You clicked your tongue in distaste, a sure sign that you were about to pick a fight with the blood god. You were one opponent he could never seem to defeat. That did not come out the way he intended. 

Time to backtrack before he got his ass handed to him. 

   “What I mean is, you have no affiliation with L’manberg. You have no prior issues you need to settle with them so technically you can stay home tomorrow, no one would blame you. You’d be safer away from the explosions, I’d feel better with you at home.”

   “That way you’d only have to worry about Phil tomorrow right?” 

   “Well, that’s part of it,” He stated bluntly, never one to be dishonest. “He has only one life and he’s going to want to fight, he has a lot to avenge. The government drove his eldest son mad, enough that Phil had to kill him. He’s one of my oldest friends, I wanna look out for him and protect him.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly at his response, you brushed your thumb across his cheek fondly. 

   “You’re wrong.” 

   “Eh?”

   “I do have something I want to fight for, I want to fight for what I believe is right. Let’s face it Techno the way everyone’s treating those children is sick. Dream manipulated Tommy and used Tubbo to get what he wanted from him. I know you did what you thought was right for Tommy but he’s a product of a war-torn country, they all are. Now, that doesn’t excuse his betrayal but… did he even know what the right thing to do was in this situation, does he even truly know what peace is? I want to fight to protect those kids. They deserve to know peace, true peace away from bloodshed and war. If I can I want to give them that.” You watched Technoblade’s jaw tighten, “I’m going with you tomorrow but I’m not going to kill the children.” 

   “I don’t think I can ever forgive Tommy.” He sighed adjusting his grip on you a sure sign he was nervous, “but I love you.” Techno kissed you once again, it was long and tender you watched as the apples of his cheeks turn red after you both pulled away. He took a breath, “You’re unstoppable and you’ve never stopped me before so I won’t do the same for you. Just stay safe. Please. You need to come home with me tomorrow I won’t settle for anything else.” 

   “I will. I promise.” You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and he hummed gently in response. “I love you Technoblade, I’ll fight beside you. Till the end of the line.”

   “Till the end of the line,” He repeated as you both approached the snow-covered house to convene with Philza Minecraft himself.

~~~

Hi guys! Officially feeling a bit better, enough to get a small part out before I work on the next chapter. I hope you like it, thanks so much for reading and your amazing feedback. Also, thanks so much for your kind words and well wishes! Also, also, If anyone ever makes fanart of this story (I doubt it would happen) please tag me and let me know. I love to make art myself and always wanna support other artists! Thanks Again!

[bi-bard]

Please Say That You're Joking (Pt.1) - Chuck Shurley Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Please Say You're Joking (Pt. 1) [You can read part 2 by clicking here!]

Pairing: Chuck Shurley X Winchester!Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 2,930 words

Warning(s): mentions of sex, threats of violence

Summary: (Season 4; Season 11) (Y/n) had a single one-night stand while coping with loss in a not healthy way... if only they had a clue about the weight of their actions.

Author's Note: I was recently going back through some of the "lighter" episodes of Supernatural because I wanted to watch something I could chuckle at. That's where this came from.

This might be the most crackheaded thing I've written in a while.

Also, the amount of things I had to bullshit my way through this is actually ridiculous.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Sam, Dean, and I walked into the motel room. We were all confused and slightly scared.

We had gone to a comic book shop to do some work on a case. However, we were then called fans.

Fans of what?

Well, fans of a series of books about our lives.

I was the middle Winchester child. Two years younger than Dean, two years older than Sam. I was beyond confused when I saw some weird, romanticized version of me on the cover of a book.

"This is so weird," I mumbled, plopping onto one of the beds in the room.

Sam jumped onto his laptop and started researching. Dean was holding one of the books, reading through it. I didn't even want to touch it.

"I don't like how he describes (Y/n)," Dean commented. "It's weird. It's like he's in love. Listen to this..."

Dean dramatically clears his throat and starts to read in an even more dramatic voice, "'Even after a hard hunt, (Y/n) could easily be seen as the most beautiful of the siblings. They mimicked the beauty of their mother more than their brothers. There's no bruise or cut that could take the loveliness away from the natural curves of (Y/n)'s face. If only they could see how everyone else would stare-"

"Okay, ew," I muttered, walking to the table. "What'd you find?"

"Well, it seems like Carver Edlund is a pen name," Sam shrugged. "And the fans are intense."

"As in," Dean asked, closing the book and joining the two of us at the table.

"Well," Sam handed me the laptop so Dean and I could look at it, "there's fanfiction. About all of us."

"What's this, 'Sam/Dean'," I asked.

"It's... me and Dean... together."

"They just don't care that we're related," Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"God, this is so weird."

"So, how do we find this guy," I asked.

--time skip--

We managed to find the publisher of the novels and found her house.

"So, you published the 'Supernatural' books," I asked as we walked in.

"Yep," she nodded. "Yeah, gosh. These books... they never really got the attention that they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap."

"Could not agree with you more," I said. "We're hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we can start publishing again," she replied excitedly.

"No, no, no," Dean immediately shut her down. "I mean, why... why would you want to do that? It's such a complete series with Dean going to hell and all."

"Oh my god, that was one of my favorite ones," she rambled. "Dean was so strong and sad and brave. And Sam... I mean... the best ones are when they cry... like in 'Heart' when Sam had to kill Madison; the first woman since Jessica he'd really loved. When Dean had to call John in 'Home' and ask him for help. Or when (Y/n) went back to the motel room after getting kidnapped and just had to sit in their own head and had to truly process not only the death of their mother but now their father. The mixed feelings were amazing."

"You're a really big fan," I noted. She nodded.

"Gosh, if only real men were that open about their emotions."

"Real men," Dean asked.

"I mean, no offense," she replied. "How often do you cry like that?"

"Well, right now I'm crying on the inside," he muttered.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

"How am I supposed to know this is legit?"

"Oh, trust me," Dean mumbled. "We're legit."

"Well, I don't want some smart-ass article making fun of my boys," she snapped as she sat in her chair.

"Oh, never," I replied quickly. "We actually are big fans."

"You read the books?"

"Cover to cover," I promised.

"What's the year and model of the car?"

"1967 Chevy Impala," Dean smiled proudly.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my- uh... Sam's birthday," Sam replied.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

"Umm... 174," Sam said nervously.

"(Y/n)'s first hunt?"

"Vampire in Washington," I answered. "Dean was at the motel sick and (Y/n) almost chopped John's head off when he scared them."

"(Y/n)'s favorite memory that's not related to hunting?"

I smiled, "Helping Sam get ready for a date when he was a teenager because Sam didn't trust what Dean had told him."

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie," Dean replied. "Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues.'"

She finally laughed and smiled again, "Okay, okay. What do you wanna know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name," Sam asked.

"Oh, no. I can't," she shook her head.

"We just wanna talk to him," Sam continued. "You know, get the 'Supernatural' story in his own words."

"He's very private," she shrugged. "Like Salinger."

"Please," Sam tried again. "Like I said, we're um... big fans."

Sam unbuttoned his shirt enough to show his anti-possession tattoo. Dean pulled his shirt to the side to do the same. I rolled my eyes and yanked the arm of my jacket down and pulled up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I don't wear as many layers as them and I had opted to put the tattoo on my upper arm because I thought it looked nicer.

"Awesome," the lady mumbled before standing up. "Y'know what?"

I looked away as she pulled her pants down.

"I got one too."

"Wow, you are a fan," I slapped Dean's arm. The lady fixed her clothing before grabbing a pen and paper.

"Okay," she said. "His name's Chuck Shurley-"

And I stopped listening after that. I knew that name... why did I know that name... oh... oh no. I'm gonna kill him. We're going to meet this man and I am going to end up killing him.

I followed Sam and Dean as they started walking out of the woman's house.

"Excuse me," she called as we reached the door. We looked back at her. "I'm sorry, but you look exactly like how I picture (Y/n) when I read the books."

I chuckled, "Thanks."

"He describes (Y/n) with so much detail," she smiled. "You could play them in a movie."

"Thank you," I waved as we walked out.

"'You could play them in a movie,'" Dean teased.

"I know who Chuck is," I said, ignoring him.

"What," he asked. I nodded. "How?"

I pointed to get into the car. I got in the back seat and Sam and Dean sat upfront. Dean started driving to the address the lady gave us before I started speaking.

"Okay, when you went to hell, Sam's not the only one who ran off," I explained. "I wasn't gone for four months... just two weeks. In those two weeks, I got involved in a single one-night stand. The name he gave me was Chuck Shurley."

"You screwed the man who wrote books about us," Dean asked, sounding angry.

"Do you think I knew he was writing books based on our lives?"

"He had to have known who you are," Sam added. "This isn't an accident. He has to get visions or something."

"Yeah, I know," I nodded. "He made money off of my name and then screwed me."

"Damn," Dean mumbled. "I missed a hell of a lot."

I rolled my eyes.

--time skip--

I knocked on the door loudly. Sam grabbed my arm, shaking his head at me. The door was opened and I smiled obnoxiously as Chuck. He was in a robe, his boxers, and an old white shirt. He looked tired and like he hadn't had a goodnight's sleep in days.

"Chuck Shurley," Dean asked.

"Chuck Shurley that wrote the Supernatural books," Sam added.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "This is Sam... Dean... and I'm (Y/n)... the ones you've written books about."

Chuck sighed and went to shut the door. I stepped in, stopping it with my foot.

"Listen, I appreciate the enthusiasm, I really do and I remember you," he motioned at me, awkwardly grinning before seeming to shake the memories out of his head. I almost slapped him right then. "But please... go get a life."

"You see," Dean followed me, helping to force our way inside. Sam made sure the door shut behind us. "We have a life... and you're selling books about it."

"Okay, this isn't funny," Chuck mumbled.

"You're right," I said. "We just wanna know how you're doing it?"

"I'm just a writer, I'm not doing anything."

"Then why do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of 'Misery' thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a 'Misery' thing!"

"No, it's not," I shook my head. "Believe me, we're not fans."

"What do you want then," he asked.

"I'm Sam... and that's Dean and (Y/n)," Sam tried again.

"Those are fictional characters," Chuck yelled. "They aren't real!"

Dean grabbed him and pulled him outside.

"Wait, wait-"

"We aren't kidnapping you, calm down," I rolled my eyes. Dean opened the hidden compartment in the impala's trunk.

"Are those real guns?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And real rock salt, real fake IDs."

Chuck let out a laugh at it, "Well, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number-one fans. That... That's awesome. So, I-I think I've got some poster in the house."

"Chuck, stop," I rolled my eyes, grabbing his arm as he went to walk away.

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"How much do you know," Sam asked. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Have you not been listening," I asked. "The real question is how do you?"

"Because I wrote it," he explained.

"You kept writing?"

"The books never came out because the publisher went bankrupt," he furrowed his eyebrows.

I stepped back, letting go of his arms.

"Okay, wait a minute," Chuck crossed his arms. "This is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

"Oh my god," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. I grabbed his robe. "I'm sorry but I'm really tired. Nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n) Winchester, these are my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. You wrote and published books about us, probably knew who I was, and then you still slept with me."

He stared at me in shock.

"What," I asked.

"The last names were never in the books," he mumbled. "I never told anyone about that. I never even wrote that down."

"Then I guess we have a lot to talk about," I let go of his robe.

The three of us followed him inside.

--time skip--

"I got a visit from Cas," Dean explained as he walked in. "I've some important information."

After talking to Chuck and getting a draft of what was supposed to happen, we were all panicking. Dean told us to wait here. Lilith was going to come for Sam and we both thought it'd be harder if there was more than one of us here at all times.

Now, Dean was coming back from seeing Chuck.

"And that important information is...," Sam trailed off.

"He's a prophet of the lord," Dean said, smirking at me.

I shut my eyes, letting my head fall forward.

"Please say you're joking," I mumbled.

"Nope," Dean replied.

Sam looked over at me. He only started chuckling after his brother broke.

Dean was laughing his head off within seconds, "You screwed a prophet!"

"Shut up," I groaned. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Archangel will kill you."

"I'll happily pay that price," I muttered. "I slept with a prophet."

"At least that means he didn't write himself to sleep with you," Sam tried to comfort me.

"Yeah, God just decided I was supposed to sleep with the guy publishing books about my life," I replied sarcastically. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Come on, it could be worst-"

"Sam, love you, but don't finish that sentence if you even kind of value your life," I muttered.

I was desperate for this conversation to just end.

--time skip--

After all was said and done, and Chuck accidentally helped us chase Lilith away for a while, we gave Chuck a lift back to his place.

I followed him up to his door, offering to look around and make sure that he's safe. He shook his head.

"I have an archangel protecting me," he reminded me. "Can't get any safer than that."

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, by the way," he said. "About us. I didn't recognize you until after... it all... and I didn't say anything because I didn't really know how to explain it. The whole event makes me feel all scummy."

"It's alright," I replied with a chuckle. "It's fine, I promise."

He offered me a nervous smile, "Y'know, in all of my visions, you're the most vivid thing."

With a grin, I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. I stepped back and headed back toward the impala. I made sure to take note of his nervous and flustered face.

"See you around, Chuck!"

"You... You too," he called after me. I got in the backseat and got comfortable.

"So... screwing the prophet wasn't that bad," Dean asked.

I just rolled my eyes, waving through the window at Chuck as Dean pulled away from the curb. Leave it to a Winchester to end up in a situation like that.

--time skip (season 11)--

Sam and I followed Dean with our guns ready. Dean was following the amulet that he had owned for a long time without even knowing it could show us where God was.

Everyone had been infected by Amara only minutes ago but now it was okay and Dean's amulet was glowing.

"Holy shit," I mumbled, seeing who was walking over to us.

Chuck.

He was supposed to be dead. That's why Kevin's prophet powers had been activated.

"No way," Dean said.

"Hey," Chuck... or God said. "We need to talk."

Despite our understandable hesitation, Chuck reached forward, teleporting all of us back to the bunker. I stepped away from him, slightly overwhelmed.

"(Y/n)," Chuck walked over and tried to grab my arm. I instinctually slapped him. I was nothing but confusion and anger. "I deserved that. Just, please?"

I stepped away again.

From behind Chuck stepped Kevin's ghost. My breath caught in my throat. The poor boy had been through so much shit because of us.

Kevin told us about how we looked stressed and that we should listen to Chuck.

Then, Chuck waved his hand. Kevin turned into a ball of white and blue light before ascending beyond the bunker.

"Where'd he go," I asked.

"Heaven, where he deserves," Chuck promised. I nodded.

I listened to the rant about how Chuck had abandoned us all and how awful things were. Then, the conversation turned to the plan to stop Amara. The boys talked about needing Lucifer and Chuck got incredibly upset. In a fit, he went to leave. I stepped in front of him.

"No," I said bluntly. "Even if you want to avoid the subject of your estranged son, you can't just leave."

"(Y/n)-"

"Sam, Dean," I looked at them. "Give us a minute?"

They both nodded, glaring at Chuck on their way out. I tried to ignore the instincts that were telling me that Chuck was just selfish.

"(Y/n)," Chuck mumbled.

"Just answer my questions," I said. "Then we can discuss what to do with Amara without you storming away recklessly. Okay?"

He nodded.

"Have you been God the whole time," I asked.

He nodded.

"You wrote all of our stories?"

Another nod.

"Did you write that I was going to sleep with you?"

I felt manipulated and angry. I was desperate for an answer. I knew that this could've made me feel like dirt, but I needed to know.

"No," Chuck said. I clenched my jaw, ready to call him a liar. "I told you. I had been pretty much hands-off for a long time. Did I know who were? Absolutely. I'm sorry I lied to you about that. But I didn't plan anything between us. We weren't some divine plan."

I nodded, looking down.

"You know how Dean and Amara are connected," he asked. I nodded, looking back at him. "We're like them."

"And that's not a divine plan-"

"I'm not doing a good job explaining this," Chuck shook his head. "It feels like we're like them. Like there's this bond that just happened as soon as we met."

"You lied to me, for years," I said. "Saying we have some bond isn't gonna fix that."

"I know."

We both fell silent. Slowly, I started laughing. Chuck furrowed his eyebrows, "My only one-night stand... and it was God."

Chuck started laughing with me while I really processed what I had done.

I slowly stopped laughing.

I didn't notice until it was too late that Chuck had slowly gotten closer to me. As soon as his lips brushed mine, I pushed him back. Not hard, but enough to get him to step away.

"No," I mumbled. "Not that, no."

Chuck nodded, "Got it."

"Now," I sighed, "we need to actually plan to stop Amara, and if we need Luci-"

"We don't," he said bluntly. "We can do something else. We don't need him. Okay?"

I nodded. In my gut, I trusted him. Maybe that was me being an idiot but I did trust him. For now at least.

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

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[imjusttpeachy]

she's a rae of sunshine (c.h.)

okay so this was a request but i completely read it wrong so i’m gonna write it again but i finished this one anyway so here take it

so sorry to the anon who requested it bc u were so fuckin sweet i’ll have it up asap i promise

playlist

ralph castelli - morning sex

crumb - bones

jorja smith - teenage fantasy

summary: balancing college life and wanting to support your best friends online endeavors was difficult, but reader regrets trying a little harder when she finally meets one of her newer stream-mates

word count: 2, 828

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, lowkey OOC Corpse, that needs its own warning i’m sorry,

•••

“Look you knew I had to stream before I said you could come over ya fuckin idiot.”

“Yea I knowwwww, I just wanted to spend more time with my super-hot best friend forever.”

Being the best friend of an online personality had its perks— the amazing trips you got to hitch a ride on, the adoring fans that seemed to latch on to you as well, the sponsorships that would always send you something along with the original PR package, and especially the way she was able to choose their own work hours.

Well... mostly.

As much as you adored spending time together during the day, whether it be shopping or going out for brunch, those late nights that always seemed to hold the most memories you held so dear were few and far between. Of course, you couldn’t blame her; responsibilities were responsibilities, and fuck if you’d let your selfish wants override the way she chooses to get her work done. You really couldn’t be one to judge either-- having to call off dates because you’d underestimated the time you needed to complete a school paper, or when a last-minute lab was called in and you’d have to leave her sitting alone in those cafes with your half-finished mocha and a promise to Venmo her the money to cover it later. What left you feeling the most guilty, though, was the fact that you weren’t able to watch her content as much as you’d like to. Sure, you’d catch a few minutes of a stream here and there but any time you spent apart was usually spent with your head buried in a book, mind bleary with countless espresso shots trying to keep your tired eyes focused on the seemingly unending work in front of you.

But, a distraction every now and then couldn’t hurt. Right?

Having had enough of your current assignment, any coherent thought was long gone, you’d decided to pay your favourite person a little visit. You knew she’d probably be busy as she hadn’t replied to your previous text for a few hours, but knowing her presence alone and any passing comments would lift the heaviness that had found its home in your head and chest, you shot her a message to let her know that her office couch would be occupied by you for the next few hours. Normally, you’d just show up so you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it; so when that fateful message popped up on your phone giving you the go-ahead you completely ignored the warning of her work schedule and drove right over.

So now here you were, sprawled haphazardly on her couch clad in sweats and a sports bra scrolling through your phone as you watched her finish her final touches so she could start her stream.

“You’re gonna be in the background of my face cam if you wanna sit there y’know.” Groaning in response to her warning not wanting to move from the comfy spot you just found, you looked over at her with the best puppy eyes you could muster. She chuckled softly, raising her hands in surrender as she turned back to her setup. “Hey I really don’t care, just warning ya bug. The thirst comments and screenshots are outta my hands.”

Scoffing under your breath at her comment, you turned your head back to your phone as a Twitter notification popped up at the top of your screen.

Corpse Husband: streaming among us in a few mins, join in on youtube

Heartbeat picking up slightly, you scrambled for the purse you’d thrown at the base of the couch for your headphones. Ever since you’d found this handsome-voiced stranger’s channel on your late night horror binges, you had fallen completely in love. While you weren’t typically the type to watch video game commentary outside of Rae, his voice got you completely hooked and you couldn’t get enough of it. Yeah, maybe you were a bit of a simp, but that sweet and genuine personality that hid behind that gravelly tone had you melting completely into his clutches. You tried to convince yourself to get over it, you didn’t even know what he looked like. But, y’know, a little crush wouldn’t hurt anybody right?

“Going live in T-minus 30 seconds babe.” Jumping slightly as Rae’s voice knocked you out of dreamland, you mumbled out a small “got it” as you once again got focused on getting your headphones connected to your phone. You’d never been able to watch one of his lives before, his horror commentary videos usually playing as background noise as you did schoolwork or while you were falling asleep. Practically shaking with excitement, you opened your YouTube app seeing the live at the very top and tapping on it immediately only to be met with that sweet laugh ringing through your headphones like music to your ears. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the throw pillow you had previously tossed to the floor and hugging it to your chest while your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, completely forgetting what was happening around you as you zeroed in on the gravelly tone you’d fallen oh-so in love with.

“Hey (Y/N) wave hi.” You startled slightly as the faint voice of your friend sounded from across the room. Glancing up from your phone, you pulled an earbud from your ear and furrowed your brows at her before slowly processing what she said, lifting a hand in greeting to her watchers. She laughed at your confusing antics, turning slightly in her chair to look over at you. “What the hell are you so smiley about?”

“…Nothing..” You grinned widely as her laugh once again resounded around the room, shaking her head at you before turning back to her screen with a scoff, muttering something under her breath so only her watchers could hear. Smile still plastered across your lips, you settled back down into the comfiness of the couch and popped your earbud back in, zeroing in again on the screen in front of you. Watching as Corpse moved his character around the lobby as he waited for his friends to join, a small giggle escaped from under your breath; trying your best to be mindful of Rae’s stream but not being able to hold back the flustered feeling welling up in your chest, mind giddy with the thought of finally being able to see one of his famous live streams, well, live. It had only been a few seconds later when you heard Rae’s voice once again, only this time, not as muffled as before.

“What’s up motherfuckers.” Brows furrowing in confusion, you lifted your hand to your earbud and pulled it from your ear once again, hearing her voice from across the room but from your other earbud as well. No, there was no fucking way. All your questions were answered, though, as you glanced back down at your phone screen seeing a red character move around the game lobby along with Corpse’s, the gamer tag ‘Valkyrae’ floating just above it. Blinking hard at your screen trying to convince yourself that your eyes were lying to you, you slowly pulled your hand to cover your mouth in shock. How… How could you possibly not know they knew each other? With the way they spoke to each other in sarcastic comments, poking fun at the other it sounded like they were close too. Body finally catching up with your thoughts, you scrambled at your phone, shaky hands moving as quickly as they could to pull up your texts with Rae. Your fingers tapped furiously at the screen, anxious to get back to the live stream to listen in more but also needing to know what the fuck was going on.

TO my rae of sunshine: care to explain what the fuck is going on??! how the fuck do you know corpse husband?????!??!

“Oops sorry guys, guess I forgot to turn off my phone ringer-“ Staring up at the back of her head helplessly, you watched as she picked up her phone seeming to read out the text before bursting into a peal of laughter. Tossing a look at you over her shoulder, you looked back down at your phone bashfully, seeing the three loading dots in your message thread indicating that she was messaging you back.

my rae of sunshine: lol what about it? you gotta crush on him or something?

TO my rae of sunshine: …no

Hitting send you rushed back to the stream, anxious to see what Corpse was saying in response to Rae’s absence, not thinking anything about your brief conversation and thinking you would discuss it after she had logged off for the night. Though, as you heard her phone chime again from across the room followed by another bark of laughter, you knew you weren’t getting off that easy.

“What are you laughing about?” Corpse’s honeyed voice sounded from your earbud, hearing Rae’s giggles from what you presumed to be their discord voice chat. Glancing anxiously between his stream and the reflection of Rae’s face cam in one of her monitors, your heart began to sink as you watched that familiar mischievous grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Oh just my friend (Y/n) sent me a funny meme”

“Wait, is she the one in some of your Instagram posts?” You swear your heart stopped beating at that moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as you tried helplessly to process the conversation happening right in front of you. He knew who you were? You thought you’d always be lost among the hundreds of thousands of his new adoring fans, left in the anonymity of your Twitter tag in his subtweets, or just another subscriber that fawned over him silently behind a keyboard. Knowing that he’d actually seen your face you could feel your own beginning to heat at that moment; you brought your hands your mouth again, unknowingly curling your body tighter around the pillow in your lap as you tried to hide your face behind it as you become more and more flustered from the words nonchalantly escaping his mouth.

“Yea that’s her, pretty thing isn’t she? She’s my absolute favourite.”

That’s it, you were gonna fucking kill her.

“I mean, yeah... I guess..” The timid words followed by a soft awkward chuckle had your breath hitching in your throat. There was no fucking way this was happening. This had to be a dream, that was the only possible explanation. You were just about to pinch yourself when Rae’s voice startled you from your thoughts.

“She’s actually over right now. She insisted on getting wine drunk later tonight because her professor’s been on her ass lately. I’ll get her to come say hi.” Rae had barely turned around in her chair when she was met with your wide-eyed gaze, panic painted across your features as you shook your head wildly. You were in no state to be talking to your long-time internet crush in such a casual setting. But with the look Rae shot you from her chair as she started to plug another headset into her PC, you knew you had no choice and begrudgingly pulled yourself from the couch almost tripping over your own feet as you shakily walked over to Rae. Shooting her another pleading look, she only shoved the headset in your direction in return as she grinned up at you. Finally biting the bullet, you pulled on the headset and leaned down toward the mic.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Cursing at yourself for how quiet and shaky your words came out, you barely had any time to think it over before a chorus of greetings sounded through the headset. A small giggle escaped your lips as you watched the different Discord icons appear and disappear from the top of the screen. You knew most of these people already which made you even more confused as to how you managed to miss that voice from all the discord chats and voice calls. Well, knowing them was a bit of an overstatement anyway; you knew /of/ them, and they knew /of/ you in the other times you popped up in the background or in passing conversation during Rae’s streams. They did know you well enough, though, to know this was not the way you usually spoke around them.

“No way, that can’t be the (Y/N) I know!” The voice you recognize as Sean echoes through your headset, another chorus of knowing laughter following quickly after. Taking a deep breath you managed to force out a few words that would get them off your case.

“…Shut the fuck up”

“There she is!!” As the group erupted in laughter yet again, all you could focus on was the faint deep chuckle that resounded through your headset. Feeling your face start to heat up, you covered your wide grin with your hand as butterflies burst through your stomach; you could listen to that laugh all day. Before you were able to speak again, though, that heavenly voice piped up and wiped all train of thought from your mind.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you too Corpse. I gotta be honest ‘n say I’m a pretty big fan of your no-sleep work.” And... there’s the word vomit. Fuck, you could feel your cheeks starting to heat up with the ongoing realization of who you were talking to.

“Aha thank you, I uh really appreciate that. I’m sure you just heard, but I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours also.”

No.

No, there’s no fucking way.

Is he...

Flirting with you?

Before you could even think about what to reply to that with, the rest of the group beat you to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is happening.”

“CORPSE! You SIMP!”

“Is- Is Corpse really shooting his shot right now?”

You didn’t realize you were frozen in place until you felt Rae’s hand on your elbow, snapping you out of your bewildered trance as you tried to comprehend what was happening yourself. As your thoughts finally caught up to the present, you could feel your cheeks start to burn; pulling your hand up to cover your face you stepped out of the view of the face cam. Rae’s laughter filled the room as she watched your flustered antics, shooting you a sly grin as she started scanning the monitor displaying her live chat.

“Wait, wait, chats telling me (y/n)’s blushing right now?” Sean’s voice echoed through the discord chat, only making you flush further as you tried desperately to find a way out of this.

“Okay, okay, leave her alone.” Corpse’s voice finally piped up amid all of the chaos causing everyone to immediately pipe down. God, you didn’t even want to begin to think of the mess this has already made, you just needed to get out of there before you caused any more damage.

“Yeah, I uh- see- see that the lobby’s full so I’ll just uh- leave you guys to it.” Quietly thanking the stars that Corpse finally got you out of this mess, you went to pull the headset off your ears when that fateful voice piped up again.

“Wait, don’t let these nerds make you leave. You should stay- I mean, only to help Rae y'know? She needs it.”

“I do not!”

“I- I mean yea sure, as long as I’m not intruding,” Cursing yourself again for stuttering before forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat, “I mean, she really does need the help.”

“Okay just because you want to flirt some more doesn’t mean you can bully me-“

“Okay, I’m starting the round!” The booming accented voice cut off everyone else in the call as you all stared as the screen began to count down to the game, and before anyone had the chance to say anything else a chorus of laughs resounded, and then the lobby fell into silence.

•••

And it went on like that, the not-so-subtle flirting followed by relentless jabs from the group immediately after. The game was almost forgotten with how much of each lobby was taken up by teasing words and endless laughter, but every audience was just eating it up. You didn’t even want to think about the mess social media was going to be after this stream but right now you were having fun with your friends and that’s all that mattered. The grin was practically plastered on your face as you laughed along with Rae the chat during the gameplay portions and you knew everything from this moment on was gonna be different, but you couldn’t find a single thing within you to care.

Especially when you logged onto Twitter right after the stream and saw that little message right at the top of your requests.

@.corpsehusband: wanna hear some of that no sleep work in person?

•••

beep bop here u go,

[heywardsarchive]

Before You Go - [Harry Potter]

Warnings: angst, grief, death, insecurities, anxiety, sadness, alcohol, if I missed any pls let me know!

Summary: Harry lost his lover to the second wizarding war and his mind is uneasy and filled with regret and sadness as he goes through the last of her belongings.

a/n: Letters are in bold and italics, memories are in italics

Word count: 2.3k+

Based off of ‘before you go’ by Lewis Capaldi for @iliveiloveiwrite‘s songfic challenge! I hope you like it:)

Pairing: Harry Potter x female reader

*****

Harry sat on the sofa of his apartment, nursing a bottle of beer in one hand, staring, dazed at the television screen, not paying attention to the movements of the characters. His mind was wandering. The war was over but he was still reeling from the effects of it. He lost so many people he loved, it wasn't his fault but he couldn't help but blame himself. If only he was quicker, smarter. If he didn't let voldemort in he could have stopped sirius from dying. If he just surrendered himself to the dark lord, he could have stopped Fred's death, remus' and tonks too. So many others would have been saved.

The deaths of Fred, Sirius, Remus, Hedwig and others killed him inside but none hurt him as much as hers did. Y/n l/n. The only woman he truly loved. He loved her with every inch and fibre of his being. There was no part of him that didn't ache for her touch. He didn't want her to die. He would have done anything to stop her death, but he couldn't help it.

He tried convincing himself that he hated her. Hated her for leaving him, hated her for saving his life giving her own instead. Hated her for putting his life over her own, which in Harry's eyes was a hundred times more worthy then his. He tried, but he knew he was just kidding himself. How could he hate someone as perfect as her? She put everything above herself.

Every memory of her faded in his mind. All harry could think of was what he should have said when he had her in his arms, feeling her touch on skin. Staring into her (e/c) eyes. Shining with love looking into his emerald green ones, her fingers in his unruly raven hair. If he thought hard enough, he could still feel her lingering touch. But it wasn't enough. He thought of everything he could have said to her. How he could have told her that he loves her, how he wanted to marry her one day, have children of she wished, how he would give everything and everyone to the devil for her. But alas, there were many things that were left unspoken.

Regret. That was all Harry felt. No other emotion but sadness, grief and regret filled his body. He didn't know how much you were hurting inside, too wrapped up in his own head, forgetting the one he loved. Y/n took care of him although she herself was broken, beyond repair with the heartache she had suffered. Losing her older brother and parents to a death Eater attack wasn't easy on anyone. She smiled like nothing was wrong, it was as if everything was okay in her life, as if no pain filled her heart . Her smiling face plagued Harry's mind. They said time can heal, but that was a would that Harry doubted would ever heal.

Harry wished that there was something he could have said to her before she died and left him and all others behind, going to a happier and safer place, or so Harry liked to think. In his eyes, she deserved nothing but love and support. He wished he was more present in her life, wishing he could have done something to ease her pain.

He took another swig of the beer in his hand and closed his eyes. He thought that her death was worse than anything in the world, but in reality it was the idea that she died hurting inside, completely broken and with the thought that she was alone was what killed him more.

He walked to his room clumsily, not really drunk but a bit tipsy. He walked to his dressing table and removed a box  from the drawer. He lifted the lid and went through the contents. It was the last piece of y/n that he possessed. Having no kin left behind, she left all her belongings to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

In the box Harry pulled out a few letters addressed to him. He opened the first one and read it for the tenth time since he got it. It was dated 1994, their fourth year. As he read the contents, his mind flashed back to the day the incidents occured. He remembered it clear as day, the Yule ball. He was clumsy and didn't know how to dance, but with y/n as his date, how could he not have fun?

Dear Harry, I know I will never have the guts to send you this letter, but maybe one day you will get to read this.

Today you took me to the Yule ball, we went as friends, I guess we'll never be anything more than that. I guess that's ok though, atleast I can still be around you. Wait, that's creepy. But you get the picture right? I really like you Harry. I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend but I don't know if you even like me that way. Maybe I'll confess to you one day, who knows? You looked really good today Harry. In the green dress robes, they really bring out your eyes. We matched too! Mother sent me a dark green dress which I love. I hope I get to wear it soon. Hermione is calling me to sleep now, I will see you tomorrow Harry. Lots of love, Yours, Y/n.

Harry closed his eyes and a tear fell from his eyes onto the paper, blotting the ink. He missed the way you smiled when you read a good book, or danced along to sweet music, or how you convinced him to make a snow Angel when it snowed back in 5th year. The memories filled his mind, he didn't know if he was happy about it or if it was too painful to remember.

It was 4th year, the Yule ball was in a few days. Harry still had not got a date. There was only one girl he had eyes for but he was tok afraid to ask her. He saw multiple boys her out but she seemed to decline all of them. He gathered his gryffindor courage and walked up to y/n. "Hey, y/n do you wanna go to the ball with me?" She was about to reply when Harry's nerves kicked in and he quickly added, "as friends ofcourse." He noticed her face fall but he didn't think much of it. "Yes Harry, I'd love to." She smiled and walked to her next class. Harry stood there happy that she agreed but also internally slapping himself that he asked her as friends when he wanted more.

Harry then remembered the time her asked her out, it was their fifth year and y/n had stood up for him against the toad face umbridge. He had to resist the urge the urge to kiss her then and there during class.

Harry stopped y/n outside class. He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside. "Harry, what's up?" She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. "I actually have to ask you something."  She gestured for him to go on. "Willyougoonadatewithme?" Harry looked hopefully. "What did you say?" She looked confused. Harry took a deep breath. "Will you go on a date with me?" He repeated, slowly. "Yes." She grinned. "I have potions now, but I will catch you later." She kissed Harry's cheek and left. Harry watched her retreating figure with a smile on his face and his hand on the spot where she kissed him.

Harry was now lying on the bed rummaging through the box, finding y/n's belongings. His breath hitched when he found the pendant that he gave her in their sixth year for their one year anniversary. All their memories filled his mind and all he could think of was y/n's face, which in his opinion was the most beautiful face in the world.

He closed his eyes, dropping the box in the process. He bent down to pick up the contents when he saw a picture fall out of a book. It was a picture of him and y/n. He smiled at the sight of the picture. It was taken in their sixth year after he told her he loved her. He missed the old days when things were a bit better.

He opened the diary and flipped through the pages. It had notes on y/n's life, some random pictures here and there. Harry then reached the date may 25th 1997. It was the date she lost her whole family. He read the words written with blue ink. Each word on the paper was a gaping wound on his body issuing life blood.

I lost everything today. I don't know why I am writing this down but maybe it will help me cope. I can't break down now. I need to stay strong for Harry. For Ron and Hermione too. They're counting on me. I have to fight with my life against that horrid dark lord. I have to. To avenge the death of my family.

I can't be weak. Not now. I can deal with my own problems later on, after the war. I can't let my anxiety and insecurities take over my mind. Not now. Not now.

Once the war is over, things will get over. I know Harry can defeat him. I belive in him. He's so strong, faced so much loss at such a young age. I could never survive that much trauma. I admire his strength, I wish I was that strong. No point dwelling in my faults now, we have a war to win.

Harry shut the book, unable to read further. He didn't understand why y/n felt that way. She never showed it. He couldn't comprehend how someone so strong and brave could put themself down like that. She called him brave, when he was far from that. He kept lashing out, removing his anger on everyone. But she didn't do that, she didn't cry, kept everything inside for his sake. She was the strong one in the relationship not him.  Harry felt guilty  once again, like it was his fault. He felt he didn't do enough to help his love out of her cage of insecurity.

Harry wished he had done more, said more and stopped her hurting, or reduced it. He wished there was a way for him to reach her once and ask if he could have stopped her pain. He blamed himself for being distracted, leading her to let herself be taken instead.

Harry was dueling a death Eater, not paying attention to what was happening around him. Another death eater snuck behind up behind him and blasted the wall he was standing in front of. Y/n saw him and pushed Harry out of the way, taking the brunt of the falling bricks herself.

"No!" Harry cried, pushing the bricks away from her frail body. "No no no." He whispered. He finally freed her from the bricks and cracked her in his arms. A few tears rolled down his cheeks. "Don't cry Harry." This only made the tears fall faster. "I'm not worth your tears haz." She weakly reached up and wiped the tears off his dirty face. "Why?" Harry croaked. "You didn't have to die for me. I don't want you to die for me." He cried. "Oh Harry, I'd give my life a thousand times over to save yours. I'll love you forever and always. No matter what, I'll always watch over you."

"Don't leave me." Harry pressed a feverish kiss to y/n's lips, forehead, hair , cheeks. She was getting colder every minute. "I'll always be with you. In here." She placed her hand on his heart and smiled. Her hand become limp and dropped down. Her last breath of life taken. Harry freely cried over her dead body.

When voldemort called Harry to his death, he freely went, knowing it was right. He had to avenge the deaths of all those who were killed in the war. But a small part of him yearned to see y/n's smiling face again, and he hoped that he would see her again when he was no more. So he went, went with a brave face to the one he loved most.

Harry sat down on his bed, leaving the box aside. As he closed his eyes he wondered if there would have been a different outcome, a butterfly effect of sorts, if he hadn't been so closed off. If he let his walls down, been vulnerable around y/n, maybe she wouldn't have felt so alone and weak. If he let her in fully he could have let her know that he too was weak in a way, he too needed to let out his emotions. But it was too late now. She was gone and there was nothing Harry could do about it.

He drifted of to sleep, one thought lingered in his mind. If there was something he could have said to make it all stop hurting her. If he could have eased her mind before she went. It truly killed Harry how y/n's mind could make her feel so worthless.

But she was gone. There was a gaping hole in Harry's heart, one that could only be filled by love from y/n. But she was no more with him. He would never hear her voice again, never feel her touch, all that was left in him was guilt, regret and sadness and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. *** A/n: I am so sorry for the angst, I hope I didn't break y'all too much;) I will be posting a new year fic tomorrow!

It's new years eve y'all! I hope you guys have a fantastic new year and here's to hoping 2021 is better than 2020!

[palidoozy-art]

The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.

Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.

Obvious CoS spoilers below

IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.

So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.

This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.

Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.

But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.

VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.

His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.

He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.

He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good

Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.

RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.

I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.

Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.

Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.

One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.

anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.

i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."

[the-bau-quinjet]

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way. 

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face 

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes. 

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

 “Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

 “Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. 

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

 He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

 “You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned. 

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind. 

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

--

 Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

 The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

 You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

 “Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

 You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

 This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

 “Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

 This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

 “I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

 You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

 “With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

 I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

 This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

 “And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

 All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

 This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

 Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

 You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

 “Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

 Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

 This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

 “Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

 I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

 “Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

 I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

-

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

-

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

-

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

 Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

 You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

 And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

 “Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

 Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

 Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

 “Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

[trellanyx]

Dark!Stolas AU

I started to send a prompt to @vizowrites​ after reading the latest installment of her Dark!Stolas AU, then realized I wanted to write it instead. lol This is meant to be a direct sequel to Where You Belong. Thanks for letting me play in the sandbox for a bit bb!

Fic Warnings: This is an AU where Blitzo does not want to have sex with Stolas, and only does so in order to have continued access to the grimoire. Stolas has no qualms about using this leverage to keep Blitzo in line, or ignoring Blitzo’s boundaries. Nothing sexual happens in this fic, but if you don’t like reading fics based off this premise, this isn’t for you. Like the title says, Stolas is not a good person here.

“And you,” Stolas said, his gaze flashing back to Striker with a near break-neck speed, flashing in a surge of barely contained power that still seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. “While I admire that terribly forceful nature of yours, I highly suggest that you remember just to whom you are speaking. And just to whom you owe your continued opportunities that keep your schedules oh so busy. Which reminds me, darling Blitzy….bring the book with you to our next meeting.”

“Blitzy! There you are, darling.”

Regrettably, Blitzo thought. He placed the book on its usual place on the nightstand and shucked off his coat. Stolas loved it when his favorite toy showed such ‘enthusiasm’, not noticing, or perhaps not caring, that Blitzo’s only motivation was to get the night over with as quickly as possible.

He didn’t know which option was worse.

“Look, can we skip the roleplay tonight? My back has been bitching at me all day.”

Stolas giggled. “Ah yes. Isn’t that post-coital ache just delightful? I know my best mornings always happen when I can’t walk straight.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. In the beginning, he’d respond to comments like that with something along the lines of, “I hear a good ass whooping produces the same result”, but Stolas always interpreted those retorts as encouragement, and Blitzo eventually stopped bothering. He nodded to where Stolas was decadently sprawled along a twilight-violet chaise. “That the spot you’ve decided on?”

“As thrilling as it is to be the center of such undivided attention,” purred Stolas, “I’d actually prefer we take things slower tonight. It feels like ages since we’ve had the chance to simply…talk.” Stolas’s eyes gleamed scarlet, all four of them pinned directly on Blitzo. “Given both of our busy schedules, after all.”

Blitzo stiffened, feeling his stomach shrivel with a sudden chill of terror.

“Stolas--”

“Sit, please,” said the prince, waving a hand at a matching armchair Blitzo knew hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I’m as eager to receive your glorious cock as you are to give it to me, but another need must be satisfied first.”

The words tumbled out of Blitzo so quickly they nearly slurred together. “If this is about what happened at the office, I swear--”

“I said sit.”

Blitzo’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He power-walked to the chair, unwilling to risk finding out what Stolas might do if he thought Blitzo was taking too long. But Stolas only giggled again, as if seeing Blitzo so flustered was cute.

“Though since you bring it up, I would like to discuss what happened when I last tried to visit you. I fear there may be some…misunderstanding among your employees about just what our relationship is like, Blitzy.”

“We don’t have a relationship, Stolas,” snapped Blitzo. “We have an arrangement. I fuck you, you don’t fuck over my business. Cut and fucking dry.”

Stolas clucked his tongue. “Blitzy, we are lovers. You could at least try to put in a little romantic effort outside the bedroom.”

Blitzo bared his teeth. “I’m plenty romantic,” he said, in a moment of reckless defiance. “Just not with you.”

Stolas blinked, and Blitzo nearly bit through his own tongue. He did not, however, take back the words. He was engaged now, for fuck’s sake. And the memory of his fiancé almost spitting in the eyes of demon royalty was enough to give Blitzo just enough courage to wipe out his remaining fucks.

You wanna talk, bitch? Fine. Let’s talk.

Stolas tapped a claw against his thigh. “Are you now?” he asked, terribly soft. Blitzo opened his mouth to snarl back, but it hung open when Stolas suddenly beamed and said, “Why Blitzy, that’s wonderful!”

“….It is?”

“Of course!” trilled Stolas. “I’m so happy to hear there are other paramours in your life! Not surprised, of course, my dear little imp. Who could possibly resist such a beautiful and wickedly talented creature like yourself?” He laughed gaily. “I wondered why that fiery little fellow seemed so testy last we met. Jealousy, hm?” Stolas gave a sage little hoot. “I understand, Blitzy. Love makes fools of us all.”

Blitzo couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. “Striker, jealous of you? Listen bitch--”

“Blitzy, darling, it’s alright,” Stolas soothed. “I understand.”

Blitzo raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Do ya now?

“It’s not the first time I’ve been threatened over our little courtship,” said Stolas, still smiling. “At least he didn’t throw something at me! Poor Seymour,” he sighed. “Two centuries of care, gone in a blink and a crash. Fortunately my reflexes are better than my wife’s aim!”

“…Am I on drugs?” Blitzo wondered. “Is Verosika about to pop out with a horse head or somethin’? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, that’d actually be a pretty sweet upgrade for her.”

“Silly imp,” giggled Stolas. “Well! Now that that little bit of unpleasantness has been cleared up, I say we move on to more enjoyable activities. How about some refreshments before we start?”

Blitzo withheld a groan. Feeding each other was one of Stolas’s favorite forms of foreplay. He’d constantly nip at or suck on Blitzo’s fingers, to say nothing of how often he’d pretend to feed Blitzo a strawberry or something before replacing it with his mouth at the last second. But if it got Stolas to stop asking questions about his and Striker’s relationship, Blitzo was up for anything.

“Just no strawberries, okay? Last time they made me break out in hives.”

“Alas, tonight I’m simply thirsty.” Stolas pulled a silver bell from his robe and gave it a dainty ring. Then he winked at Blitzo and added, “Of course, that’s always my mood when you’re on my mind.”

A servant imp appeared almost instantaneously, carrying a tray with two shimmering glasses of wine.

“I really do feel much better now,” said Stolas, taking his glass.

“Good for you,” deadpanned Blitzo as the servant turned his way. “Now can we get on with--”

CRASH!

“FUCK!” Blitzo scrambled backward, tripping over the arm of the chair and falling onto the floor. His claws scratched the tile as he scooted backwards on his ass, away from the servant who was now a solid block of stone. Blitzo’s wineglass was shattered on the ground. Why…why did it look like the exact shade of blood?

Stolas took a long, indulgent sip of his own wine. “Wiggles, this is Blitzy. Blitzy, Wiggles.”

“Stolas, what the fuck?!”

“Wiggles hasn’t been with me as long as Seymour was,” Stolas continued, not needing to raise his voice to talk over Blitzo’s panicked yelling. “I daresay Wiggles isn’t even his name, but that’s neither here nor there.”

The prince unfolded his unnaturally long legs and walked around the statue of Wiggles. “He’s a good servant, as far as imps go. Obedient, polite, deferential…he knows his place in the world and is content with it. Like Seymour was.” Stolas placed a hand on the top of Wiggles’s stone head. “And like Seymour…”

Blitzo realized what was coming a split second too late. “DON’T--!”

Stolas lightly pushed, and Wiggles fell forward. There was a sick crack when the statue hit the ground, and Blitzo watched in horror as Wiggles’s now detached head lay face-first in the puddle of wine. Stolas waved his hand, and the rest of the body crumbled into dust and rubble.

“Gone in a blink and a crash,” finished Stolas.

There was no flirting or good-natured silliness to Stolas now. He stared down at Blitzo with cold disappointment. Blitzo barely dared to breathe, let alone move.

“Let’s not forget what our actual roles are, my precious little imp,” murmured Stolas. “You are exceedingly good at what you can do with your body, and because of that, I allow your little family venture to succeed. Every time you rendezvous with the world above, you pay your way with my magic. Your daughter sleeps under a roof built from my generosity. Your lover fucks you in a bed gifted by my mercy. I could rip everything away from you, Blitzo. Everything you’ve ever touched. I wouldn’t even have to leave this room.”

Stolas knelt down, ignoring the way Blitzo flinched back. “But I don’t do that, darling. Because I love you. You’ve brought excitement and joy back into my world the likes of which I haven’t felt since my daughter was born. Of all my collections and all of my toys, you are my favorite.”

A crimson glow slowly bled into existence until it outlined Stolas’s entire body. Blitzo couldn’t look away from him, and wasn’t entirely sure that Stolas wasn’t making that possible. The air seemed to constrict around him, making his temples pound and his nose bleed.

“What you do with your time is your own business, Blitzo. But when I call on you, full moon or not, I expect you to answer,” whispered Stolas. The use of Blitzo’s full name stung him like a brand. “When I ask for privacy, I expect to not be interrupted. Above all, I expect you to make sure your associates know their place around us – and mind it. Do you understand?”

Blitzo jerked his head in as much of a nod as he could manage.

“They may hiss and spit all they like, but they will stay out of our way. Else I will remove them myself, and I will make you watch. Do you understand?”

Another nod.

“Say it, Blitzy.”

“…I understand,” said Blitzo through gritted teeth. The moment he did, the air returned to normal, leaving Blitzo gasping for air like a drowning man. Stolas finished his wine, and looked out the balcony window behind Blitzo.

“Ah! And there’s the moon. What a beautiful sight – not as lovely as you, of course.” Stolas cupped Blitzo’s cheek, looking at him with a familiar expression of lust. “Come darling,” he purred. “The night is still young, after all.”

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Of Bad Beer and Summer Nights. #Writer Wednesday 04/28/21 Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: it’s just another summer day at the pool. Sunbathing before your shift starts, the day changes drastically when you cannot take your eyes off a handsome stranger.

Warning: mention of alcohol and swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT (oral and p in v sex)

Paring: Javier Peña x F! reader

A/N: Another take on the #Writer Wednesday challenge by @autumnleaves1991-blog !!

Not me basing all this on the label of the beer that’s shown on the cans and my obsession with Javier Peña and his ridiculous fashion choices. This is the first thing I write with a little spice on it and I’m still not that comfortable but we’re getting there. Not beta’d and my eyes are burning so I have read it just once so if they’re any mistakes, misspellings and bad grammar I’m really sorry.

Of bad beer and summer nights

The kids’ screams from the pool muffles the tunes of some old ranchera blasting from the bar’s stereo. The old guard of retire men gather around the plastic white tables drinking cold beer and playing dominoes and you lower your book, sunbathing under this blazing sun, and smile; this is your childhood, your home and even that you had convinced yourself that you were done with this, that you wanted to run away, this speaks to your nostalgia and the fondest memories you own.

The heat makes you lazy and your stretch your body feeling your bones as if they were made of jelly. You drop the book on your stomach; you were not actually paying too much attention to it anyway and look around the pool: kids running around with water guns, angry mothers trying to control them and the men on the bar. Usually they’re around 70 or plus on average, they occupy their usual spot under the parasols early in the morning and spend their time doing their retirement routine: newspaper, same old conversation and complain about the world, beer and dominoes, until it’s time to eat or to switch their drink to coffee. But today a tall, lean, brown haired man is breaking the age median. He’s younger and stands out not only for his strong physic but because he wears a bright pink shirt and some yellow aviators and the tightest jeans you’ve seen on a man. You’re sure you’d question anybody else’s fashion choice if they were wearing that, but surprisingly, it fits him, probably because he exudes confidence, maybe it’s his broad shoulders, maybe it’s his golden skin revealed by the way–too-much-unbuttoned shirt he wears, maybe it’s his dark hair or his striking features or maybe it’s because of his dark coffee brown eyes that are fixed on you. His eyes. Shit.

You were so absorbed looking at him that you didn’t realize he had taken off his glasses and it’s now seated facing the pool and you from the bar. He smirks when you try, ungracefully, to grab your book back, the paper is stuck to your skin since you had spread it generously with tanning oil. The pages are ruined but you actually don’t care, you just open it before your eyes and try to conceal that you were looking at him like a creep. After a few minutes, you raise the novel just enough to see if he's looking but he's gone. Disappointed, you turn to the other side and let the sun bronze your skin and achieve that serene state that you had before he arrived at the pool.

"Hey, you, burnt sloth, it's time" somebody pokes on your shoulder

"Burnt sloth, seriously?" You say, you feel your mouth is dry and your brain is slowly coming back to life "it's my shift already?"

"Yep, actually you're two minutes late" Marisa grabs the elastic of your bikini bottom and pulls it and lets it go until it slaps your skin

"Ouch! I'm coming" you finally get up

"C'mon, Mr. Garcia has joined the party at the bar, and you'll be late for his speech on the loss of traditional family values" she announces. You glance at the other side of the pool, the old man walks with difficulty towards his retired friends table

"Shit, you do it on purpose" you say and Marisa smirks "my shift always starts when there's one of the annoying customers time to arrive, that's not fair"

"Is there anybody attending the bar?!" You both turn to see Mr. Garcia raising his cane and screaming at you

"I'm coming" you answer, grabbing your jean shorts and the white shirt with staffwritten on it. You toss your clothes on over your bikini and run towards the bar.

"Sorry, Mr. Garcia, the usual?" You ask while tying up your apron

"Yes, please. This is what's wrong with this country now the youth has lost the will to work hard to really make an effort…"

Even his friends roll their eyes, but you know it will be a minute until he finishes the list of bad things he wants to rant about.

Marisa has occupied your deck chair and winks at you while she spreads her sun cream. Bitch you mutter towards her and she smiles and lays back.

The rest of your shift consists in ignoring Mr. Garcia and looking at Marisa with jealousy. When the sun is almost gone she joins you on the counter.

"I'll have until Jack comes to pick me up, I thought you needed some company" she says bending herself over the bar to grab a glass

"Yeah, now that they're about to leave, how convenient" you point to the old men table "what do you want?"

"Beer please"

You take two ice cold cans and serve hers on her glass while you keep yours under the wood counter

“Tomorrow you will take my shift by the way" you say leaning on the fridge

"Nope" she says having a sip of her drink

"You wanna bet?" You counter knowing that she likes to play. She thinks about it for a second but when you open the cards box and leave the deck in front of her she nods

"Just for tomorrow though" Marisa shakes your hand and you distribute the cards between you two.

You try to focus on the game, she's better than you and you really don't want to take another shift like this. But all your concentration leaves your body once you see out of the corner of your eyes, a pink bright shirt and a tall figure.

"Hi, are you ready Pops?" He says, his voice is deep while he gently taps on one of the old men at the table

"No, give me a minute, I'm actually winning for once" he says laying one of the domino pieces on the table

"Right" he smiles warmly at him and you think he couldn't be more handsome but he actually approach the counter and now, looking at him closer he’s even more attractive

“Can I have a beer please?” he asks taking a seat on a stool. You nod and grab one from the fridge.

He examines the golden can with an arched eyebrow “Don’t you have a bud?”

“No, we only have calidad (quality) and let me warn you that the title is actually ironic” you answer, for a second you hope he doesn’t actually get mad at your little joke but he smiles widely “I trust you then, I won’t take my chances with this so... can I have a whiskey then?” he pass you the can and you turn to put it back on the fridge and glance over the bottles you have. All of them are the cheapest labels on the market, but you know your boss reserves some good old Jack Daniels well hidden and you crouch down to get it from the back of the utilities cupboard.

“I don’t know if I want that drink either if you took it from where you keep the cleaning stuff” he laughs

“Don’t worry, it’s legit, it’s my boss’s. He doesn’t want to expend one cent on the clients but for himself...that’s another thing” you pour him the amber liquor and you cannot help but notice that he’s looking at you intently

“You don’t serve whiskey often, right?” he gets closer and almost whispers it in your ear

“Why?” you ask and raise your head suddenly realizing that you’re really close. His scent is intoxicating, some fresh body wash and the musk of his cologne mixed with the whiskey you’re serving him

“Normally you will serve just two or three fingers” he explains putting two of his fingers on the glass so you can see what he means, the glass is half full.

“Shit” you stop pouring and leave the bottle on the counter while he chuckles

“Either that or you’re really generous or I’m and excellent costumer” he jests

“You are!” you respond right away and you clear your throat once you realize how stupid it sounded “or I’m a terrible waitress, I think that’s more probable”

“Agreed!” Marisa claims, you actually forgot about her

“I don’t think so” he shakes his head “You were really honest about the quality of the beer, you could have just gave me that trash and say nothing”

“Well, I’m drinking one while working, I keep it hidden under the counter and I’m gambling with my friend to see if I can change my shift for hers tomorrow” you confess, he looks amused at you

“What shift is that?” he asks

“Morning, there’s none” Marisa answers

“You actually cannot take that shift” he looks at you now

“Why?” you say puzzled

“Because you’re busy tonight, probably will arrive late and you should sleep” he sips his whiskey and you still observe him not understanding

“I’m not...”

Marisa smack her lips “she’s clueless”

“I see” he smiles again, that damn smile “at what time do you close?”

“She’ll be off at seven” Marisa answers and you turn your head from one to the other like you’re watching a tennis game you don’t really understand

“What are you...”

“He’s asking you out, dummie” Marisa rolls her eyes at you with a frustrated grunt

“Oh!”

“If it’s alright for you unless you really want that early morning shift” he looks at you from under his lashes and you don’t know how a man like that can be smoldering hot one minute and this cute the next

“She’s going!” Marisa answers before you could make your mind

“Wait, I have nothing to wear and I have to...”

“There’s a dress on my locker, the code is 6754 and I don’t trade my shift anyway, you don’t have excuses” a car horns from the door “That’s Jack, don’t take no for an answer!” she points to the man running towards her boyfriend’s car.

“There’s no pressure, if you don’t want to...”

“No, I want to, really” you say focusing on the stains on your apron

“I’m Javi by the way” he smiles fondly and raises his hand, you respond with your name and shake it

“Really nice to meet you” you say softly

“Let’s go, son, this damned dominoes are jinxed!” his father walks out from the table gathering a few laughs and jokes from his friends

Javi reaches from his wallet when Mr. Garcia raises his cane again “Don’t let him pay, anything he had it’s on me”

You look at him confused and Javier, for the first time in your brief acquaintance looks shy and actually uncomfortable. He thanks the man and walks to his father about to leave the place

“I’ll pick you up at seven” he says, winking at you

“Can we have the check young lady or do we have to do it ourselves” Mr. Garcia gets you out of your daydreaming and you rush to clean up and say goodbye to the old loyal customers before they leave you alone to close.

You don’t actually have time to do much, just shower and look inside Marisa’s locker hoping for the best. You find a white summer dress and some flat sandals that fit you, you try your best with your hair and the little make up you have in your bag. And you wait for Javi to arrive.

He’s punctual, arriving just on time on his pick up car.

“Hi”

“Hi” he has changed for another bright shirt, this time blue that matches his skin perfectly. He wears those yellow sunglasses and the same tight jeans and you cannot believe that you actually think it’s the most gorgeous a man has look ever. You staring more that you should again, how the muscles on his forearm tense and relax while driving

“We’re going outside Laredo, if you don’t mind” he says eventually

“It’s fine by me, unless you’re planning to kill me and leave me in the middle of nowhere” you shot

“No, I’m not planning to do that” he chuckles

He takes you to one of those big restaurants outside the city with live music and the best BBQ you’ve ever tasted. The conversation flows nicely even if you have to slap yourself sometimes because you continue to stare in a very obvious way.

“So, why did Mr. Garcia pay for your drink?” you ask after while “He never does one kind thing for nobody, are you a celebrity or something?” you joke

“You actually don’t know?” he drinks from his beer and he has a curious look on him

“No, are you famous?”

He makes a gesture with his hand “Mmm more or less”

“I go every weekend to the movies so it’s certainly not movies” you guess and you place your hand on your chin “Singing? Do you sing rancheras? it’s the only thing he likes so... c’mon sing!”

“You don’t want to hear that”

“Okay, so it’s not singing” you bite your lip trying to come up with something “are you one of those dude’s that do that thing with the lasso” and you mimic the gesture

“A professional cowboy?” he laughs out loud “No, nothing really artistic about my fame”

“Okay” you reflect on what he said and after a few minutes you slap the table “I got it! You’re actually a very famous mobster and Mr. Garcia owes you money, always thought he had some shady business going on”

“Do I look like a mobster?” he laughs

“No! I don’t mean it like that”

“But you thought about it”

“It’s just...” you stutter

“What?”

“You exude confidence, you look cocky and very sure of yourself kinda like you own the place when you walk in and people do what you say” you explain blushing “dangerous and sexy” the beer is kicking in harder than you thought and you lean on his shoulder “like you can kill somebody” his amused expression fades and a dark and timid veil covers his face

“Oh shit” you answer “ H-have you?” you murmur, he nods softly and averts his eyes

“Well, if you’re not in jail I guess you are...law enforcement? army?”

“DEA” he responds with a deep breath

“How...how does a DEA agent become famous?”

“I was part of the team that hunted Pablo Escobar” he answers, his arms are crossed on the table and he’s looking down

“Are you kidding?” you gasp “Did you meet him? Are you the one that shot him?”

“I was not even there when it happened and never actually met him”

You can see his eyes glowing and how tense he looks now, all confidence and bravado is gone and he finishes his beer leaving your date in an uncomfortable point

“I’m sorry I brought that up” you brush your hand over his, yours looking small against his “I was joking, I’m obviously clueless about dates and have a big mouth, I’m sorry again”

“No, no” he holds your hand between his warm palms “I really thought you’d heard, that’s why I wanted to take you out from Laredo where everybody brings that up”

You hold your head on your hands “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry”

“Hey, hey!” he takes your hands and brushes his fingers on your chin until you look at him in the eye “It’s not your fault, let’s move on, okay?” his thumb is closer now to your lower lip and you see his eyes lowering until he’s looking at your mouth for a second before he points to the dance floor “Do you dance?”

“Not well”

“Me neither”

“Do we give it a go and make a fool of ourselves?” he asks holding your hand and you nod enthusiastically

The people on the dance floor judge you when you actually don’t know the moves that goes with this type of music, but you’re laughing like little kids and you see how he tries to hold you every time he gets the chance, his big hands on your waist, and arm on your lower back that burns like the sun and when finally they change to a slow song, he presses you against his chest and you moan softly when he locks you there with his hands on your back. You reach for his neck and tangle your fingers on his nape.

“I have a confession to make, agent” you whisper on his ear

“Hm?”

“I was looking at you at the pool and hoped that you came back when you left and actually ruined my novel in the process”

“And I was looking back at you and came back to pick up my father when he actually didn’t need it” he responds, his warm breath over your temple, you smile openly and you think your heart could leave your chest in that very moment

“and another thing...”

“Yes?”

“I never actually liked guys with mustache and now all I can think about is how does it feel when you kiss” you hide your face from him feeling his laughter resonate on his chest

“Wanna try?”

You raise your head even though your cheeks burn and your rational brain in screaming that you barely know the guy but then his lips brush over your softly and they’re as soft as they looked, you let him lead you mainly because the sensation is overwhelming and when he gently touches your mouth with his tongue you let him in, you let him taste you and you moan, Javi smiles briefly over your soft expression of pleasure and becomes more eager, hardening the kiss. You don’t know how long you’ve been there but when you break the kiss your head is spinning and you have to hold onto his shoulders

“So?” he says with a cocky smile

“Nice, really nice”

You don’t want this night to end, you park alongside the riverbank in Laredo, he has put down a big blanket on his pickup truck so you’re comfortable seating on it and Javier bought some cold beer at the gas station. The summer night is clear; the moon and stars shine and are reflected on the black waters of the river and you can only hear the soft sounds of the insects and the breeze moving the grass.

“Can I ask you something?” you’re both seated next to each other, swinging your legs until you touch him

“Yes”

“Why did you choose the DEA?”

“I just wanted to get away from here” he shrugs

“You caused too much trouble? Broke too many hearts?” you jest tapping his arm with your elbow

“Why do you say that?” he turns to face you

“You look like someone who could do that” you murmur “Are you going to break my heart?” Now you adjust your position so now you’re both face to face

“I hope not”

You think over his answer, it’s actually pretty honest. You had had promises of eternal love and “never ever going to hurt you” before and then they left you with your heart bleeding and your confidence undermined. So you prefer this, the truth. Neither of you know what’s going to happen, there’s only tonight and that you don’t want to get back to real world. The river, the moon and the two of you on his car are the only thing real, they only thing that exists right now.

You arise on your knees and save the distance between you holding his head on your hand. It’s you who lead the kiss this time and he lets you savor him. He holds your hips and gently pushes you on his lap. You lower your kisses to his jaw and then his neck tasting his perfume mixed with his sweat that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about doing since this morning, he emits a guttural moan and you feel your arousal between your thighs. Your hands act faster that you can think and unbuttons his shirt. In the moonlight his skin is soft and it’s splattered in small freckles that you kiss trying to count each one with a touch of your lips.

He doesn’t stay still for much longer and raises your summer dress kneading the skin of your legs, up to your butt and your hips. He separates you from him and you’re about to complain when you feel he’s pushing you softly to the blanket. You lay down taking a deep breath while your gaze at the night sky full of tiny bright dots that reminds you of his skin and how you crave to have him on your lips again.

You raise your head once you feel him touching your calf, his fingers softly trailing over you until he take off your sandals, and when it’s done, he grabs your legs and roam his hands up and down on them until he pulls your legs apart. Javier gets in the space between your legs and without breaking his burning look at your eyes, he takes off his shirt and unbuckles his belt.

“Please” you whisper and reach your hand towards him; he takes it and kisses your palm before bending over you. The hunger you have for his lips is finally over when he kisses you again deep and moaning against your lips.

He mimics what you did earlier and bites your jaw and your neck, scattering kisses over your clavicles. He gets up an instant just to take off your dress and admires you for a second before continuing his kisses where he had left them. You bend your back when your breasts are exposed to the fresh summer air but are immediately cover by his big warm hands and then his mouth graze each one with the most delicious attention kissing and licking your nipples until biting your lip can’t contain your whimpers

“You don’t have to be quite, there’s none” he says liberating your lower lip from your bite with his thumb “Your moans will be only for my ears and I want to listen to every single one of them” he says and leaves a kiss on your sternum before grabbing your waist pressing his face on your stomach and again repeats the action of spattering kisses and soft bites to your skin.

Once he reaches the elastic of your panties he looks at you intently. You’re a moaning mess, squirming under his touch and feeling your flesh ablaze even if the night is actually quite fresh

“Please” you whisper again and he softly raises your hips rolling the lace over your thighs. The midnight air makes you shiver. He kisses again your belly over the tan marks biting gently your hip bones before parting your legs widely.

He softly tortures you avoiding your core. His mouth licking and brushing his teeth on each thigh deeper and deeper and before arriving to the center he changes his position to the other leg

“Javi” you moan

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, lying on his side he leans his head on your inner right thigh. He’s as gentle as first as he was before leaving tempting kisses on your mount and folds before opening your lips to drink of you eagerly. His moans resonate through your body as an electric current and your nails scratch the blanket bellow. You call his name like a prayer, the pleasure is uncontrollable while you hope for release, he slides his fingers inside you and pumps them upwards and then you are lost in his presence and in the night above you. You hear yourself scream, your conscience is far away.

He hushes you and holds you in his arm and you waste no time in kissing him again, a deep hard kisses in which you pour all your passion and your lust. Your hands act on their own and you reach for his jeans and force them down enough until your palming his cock.

Javi understand your needs and takes down his jeans and underwear rapidly coming back to the position between your thighs. Your eyes are locked on his body admiring how he touches himself and you raise your upper body to caress his chest

“Please Javi I need you”

“Lay down” he orders, his voice is lower now and you quiver “Impatient girl” he smirks

You obey and Javier grabs your hips and he adjusts himself towards your entrance. You open your mouth once he penetrates you but there’s no sound coming out of your lips. He mutters praises for you and bends over to kiss you again. Your tongues intertwine as he’s deep inside of you, burying himself inside and getting out again and again until you’re panting looking for that ecstatic pleasure.

You cover his moans with a deep kiss once he reaches his orgasm and you hold him there. Breathing the scent of the surroundings, your sweat and his combined, you stay there until you’re calm, relaxed, and exhausted in the sweetest way.

“Thank you for not letting me change my shift” you say after a few minutes