#also it might be my tired brain but i cant figure out what you meant with 'figted' so sorry if i misread any of this

[hermitagereheadcanons]

Little Xisuma when he is baby age, will try to take his armour off even tho he isn't supposed to, because its heavy and uncomfortable, so Keralis keeps a sharp eye on him in case he starts to get too figted(is that the word??) With his armour, so he can bring the admin to his base and take care of him because if his sweet Shaswamy regressed to that age the poor little guy must be stressed - 🦋

Keralis had to figure out ways to distract him and keep him happy. Regressed that young, Xisuma doesn't understand why he can't take the armor off, which can be confusing and upsetting. Keralis does a good job keeping his mind off it.

[hella1975]

Hi hella!!!

I feel like i always start these off or end them by saying that these things are going to be incomprehensible in some way, mainly bc i have trouble translating whats going on in my mind into written words so i really dont know how much of my list thingies make sense to you but this one is especially probably going to not make much sense. (also bc i send them a lot when im either very tired or not sober, but i am sober and wide awake rn so this might be a different kind of incomprehensible)

I found one of my old drafts for an ask from around a year ago and it was a follow up response to the last chapter you posted at the time, so im not sure how its going to sound without the context of that specific chapter, but i also mentioned in one of my other asks that i add stuff in last minute and that ask i added a shit ton of stuff so i dont have any of that pretyped out so im going by memory.  But im sending it again bc i havent seen you answer it 

(please do not interpret this as ‘why didnt you answer my ask >:/’ or me rushing you to answer asks or anything like that, but like I said its been a year so im assuming tumblr ate it.  If not and you just havent cleaned out your ask box and you find the original, congratulations you’ll know what i originally said.  Bc idk how accurate this will be)

SO

Theres two different ways that you seem to write metaphors (idk if thats what theyre called im not caught up on my literary terminology)

 (im scrolling through your blog rn looking for my other asks and tumblr really did you dirty in your asks system like i started scrolling and the third one down was from 2021 and im fighting for my life trying to find my tag (thank you for my tag btw its very useful to me))

Anywho, most of your metaphors ( to me) can be split into two categories.  Theres the simple ones and the complex ones.  Now this might seem obvious but im going to explain to you how these have different effects on my brain.  

An example of the ‘simple’ ones is  

““If Nanook’s tone had a note of seriousness, then Zuko’s was the entire orchestra.”” (idk what chapter this is from its been a while)

You have a lot of these kinds of whatever the haick kind of literary technique this is (is this a metaphor i’ve been trying to google it for like ½ an hour and i cant figure it out) BUT these type of things that are simple and easy to process is one of my favorite things about the way you write.  I think this is a very common technique but the way you do it to me is just a lot more unique than the ways ive seen it done before.  Its extremely fluent with the voice of the characters and brings a perfect kind of vibe to the ‘conversation’ (or story, text, whatever) and it paints the picture of what your trying to say perfectly.  I also really like how these types of things arent ever in Zukos pov a lot (sometimes it is, but not nearly as much, I’ve noticed) and its not in the more serious like revelations that you drop these in.  Like I said, it adds to the voice of the characters, bc of the contrast of Zuko constantly having revelations and dramatic archs and stuff, and the other characters just in general being a lot more calm.  Its like when youre listening to a song and you have the lyrics and the like ‘main’ music behind the lyrics, but then when you listen to the song a lot you notice the smaller, like backup music that adds a lot to the song and makes it a lot more enjoyable than if it was just the lyrics and the louder more up front music.  

Then in contrast you have the bigger ‘metaphors’ 

An example of this is ‘You curse in words already invented’ 

THIS IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THE ENTIRE FIC.  

OF ANY FIC OR BOOK EVER READ

AND THIS IS WHY

When I tell you I could not figure out what this meant for months I am AWFUL with stuff like this and interpreting it my english teachers hate me bc of it.  Id have the question ‘why were the curtains blue’ and my answer would be ‘bc the people who decorated the room like blue maybe theyre interior designers and it goes with the room 😊 and thats so hot of them bc i love blue too’  

But even thought i couldnt figure it out it stayed in my head and i probably thought about it once a day (i mean this literally, i think about that part all the time) and i cant remember the context for that or anything but i do remember that i knew it was a wonderful phrase.  

I’ve mentioned in my other asks how whenever im reading anything at all that you’ve written (whether its tams, or toab, or in the tags of something even if its like 10 words), everything you type comes out so fluidly like a formula or a color wheel or however i put it last time i talked about this.  And this is on the prodigious end of the spectrum of this.  

But phrases like that are another part of the fic, theyre like the lyrics of the song.  Like the phrases that gets all the attention and gets put in fanart and that gets quoted in comment sections because they deserve that recognition and you deserve that recognition and are just a reminder of how incredibly talented you are.  

I mean that in the most sincere way that i know how to express.  

I am constantly in awe of you and your writing style, and i really do think of you as one of the most talented writers of everything ive ever read.  

And something else worth mentioning is that it isnt just your ao3 that portrays that.  Like if I were to just read your ao3 I’d be like ‘oh wow this person is an amazing writer’ But your tumblr persona plays into it a lot more (In my opinion).  Because then you see like more ‘backround’ stuff on ao3.  And more of your system (im not articulating this in the way i mean it very well) and you get privy to the fact that you’re not a 30 year old with a masters in english and that you’ve never had any formal education on writing.  I vaguely remember you talking about a story about a sailor (??? i might be misremembering that) that you wrote when you were a child and thinking ‘oh wow so she’s always been like that’.  And its stuff like that that you dont get on ao3 that kind of reaffirms how incredible of a writer you are.  

And this (to me) makes you a really easy person to admire.  (ik i touched on this in a different ask but i dont remember if it was one of my list asks or not) but as someone who probably isnt going to ever be able to get an education around writing, it kind of reassures me that i dont need that to be great at it.  

(i kind of feel like a lot of the stuff in this ask is too like ‘simple’ or obvious to be given a lot of weight, but this whole thing is about the kinds of things you do that brings me personally joy and the metaphors are one of them so)

Also on an off note when i was looking through your asks to try to find my tag, I noticed that i send you a heavy percentage of your anonymous asks (mainly without my alias) and I thought that was funny.  But also i hope it doesnt come across as obsessive or weird, I swear i do that to a lot of people on here, I’m just a very social person.  .😂

Also Im in your tbos server (lurking in the shadows) and someone pointed out that whenever you do the reaction emojis you always do the white ones, and thats going on the official ‘my favorite things about hella’ list because that was genuinely one of the funniest things ive seen. 

Also the ‘anytime you type its very fluid (im too lazy to scroll up and see how i put it rn) also carrys on to discord.  I think that i could probably block out the user names and be able to figure out that its you talking every time, you have a very distinct way of talking.  

Also i wanted to mention that every time you answer these i read them again and i want to say like 1/3 of what i sasy, i have no recollection of. And i never have any idea what im talking about. so i think thats funny.

LIST ANONNNNNNNNNNNNN BAWLING MY EYES OUT HELLO BABY WELCOME BACK FROM WAR IVE MISSED YOU IM JUST HERE LIKE THIS RN

[wind-becomes-lightning]

hiii nisiii c:

19. kissing their injuries + kakaobiyama

this reminded me of kissing top surgery scars. and well.. transkashi and transmato could use some kisses from their bito, right

hanna im sorry you had to wait so long for this as I was suprisingly busy this weekend?? and now its also kinda MEH! im sorry! I think when its tree people my brain just cant work that well, too many people to coordinate or idk what it is, I hope you find a little joy in this anyway. again sorry for the delay.

Kakashi dipped his finger in the ointment and carefully applied it to Obito’s face, making sure to rub it into the scars as carefully as possible. Obito watched his face while Kakashi was working, all concentrated on his work. He wanted to say something snarky, but all he could think of was: “Couldn’t Tenzo do that tonight? He is much faster.” 

The opposite man didn’t even move a muscle: “It was my turn.” Then he winked: “Also he might be faster, but I am more thorough.”

Obito bit his lower lip. That they were doing this ritual every evening might have meant that he would eventually get used to it, but the reality of the situation was that it made him uncomfortable each time, no matter how often he had done it.

Sometimes Obito’s scars would hurt. It was a rather odd phantom pain that brought him back to when he was trapped under the pile of rocks for hours, before the Uchiha ghost found him and patched him up. The doctor called it part of his PTSD, but also admitted that scars as deep as his, even after years, could still start hurting. He prescribed Obito a soothing salve that he could apply to his face in such situations.

And while he had obviously tried to figure this out on his own, deal with it without involving his partners, eventually both Kakashi and Tenzo had found out about it . Tenzo had been the one to suggest that he could apply the ointment for Obito, to make sure that all the scars were covered well. Obito had declined back then, but had been ushered to a chair anyway, held down by Kakashi’s arms while Tenzo touched his face. 

Maybe he would have gotten used to it quicker, if not for their ritual following right after the application of the treatment. Both men usually gave it a few minutes to set in, then they would leave light, fluttered kisses on the scars, forehead to shoulder in an effort to relax him, but the intimate gesture just made his nerves fly even more.

That was, he thought sometimes, also why they did it. Because it would fluster Obito and then the both of them liked teasing him, Kakashi more so than Tenzo, which is why Obito preferred the evenings where Tenzo was on scar-treatment-duty. Unfortunately there was no such luck today.

Kakashi set the little case with the salve down and leaned back to look over Obito’s face again. “I think I got it all,” he said with glee in his voice. “Now we just have to wait a little for it to set.” He preemptively put his hands on Obito’s knees so he couldn’t just get up and leave.

Obito was rumbling on the inside, growing tired of Kakashi’s grin of superiority as he just sat there waiting. Sure, Obito liked the kisses too, he just didn’t particularly enjoy not having the upper hand in any situation. And when Tenzo and Kakashi flustered him like that, they always had the upper hand instead.

Tired of looking at Kakashi’s smirk, he instead went on the offence. Kakashi didn’t see it coming at all so Obito could overwhelm him easily with a push of his arms against the other man's shoulders. “Today will be the other way around,” Obito said. “You get to be embarrassed for once.”

Kakashi fell with his back against the chair he had been sitting on, his arms pinned down so that he couldn’t move. He watched with wide open eyes as Obito leaned forward to kiss his eye scar, first above the eye and then below.

“That was sweet, thank you,” Kakashi sneered. “I don’t think it was much of the punishment that you think it was.”

“Just wait.”

Obito pushed Kakashi’s shirt up with one hand while holding him down with the other. Realising what Obito was about to do, Kakashi finally squirmed a little. Of course Obito knew that those were much more sensitive scars to him. He dove down and trailed both lines under Kakashi’s chest with his nose first, before then going back the entire round by kissing each little centimetre of it. Kakashi eventually stilled and Obito could stop holding him down as he made his way back to the other side of Kakashi’s body.

“Well, I guess that did it,” Tenzo said from the other side of the room where he had been reading. “Senpai is very red in his face now.”

Now with a grin of his own, Obito straightened himself back up, his eyes dangerously flickering towards Tenzo. “You are next,” Obito said with a joking growl.

Tenzo almost dropped his book so he could get up quicker, but Obito had already crossed the room to catch him by the wrist. “In the end you can make fun of me all you want,” Obito said, “But you are not different from me, we are all very flustered by intimacy.”

“Right, you made your point, it’s alright,” Tenzo waved with his hand. “We won’t joke about you anymore, so p-”

Suddenly Kakashi was there behind Tenzo, holding him by the shoulders just like he had Obito that first time they had helped him with the ointment treatment. “No way, you can't get out of this.”

And so, despite Tenzo’s assurances that he had learned his lesson, Obito fluttered kisses from his neck to his collarbones and then trailed the scars under his chest, chest just like he had done with Kakashi previously, savouring every little reaction that Tenzo would allow himself to be heard.

“This would probably be easier in the bedroom,” Kakashi said at some point and neither Obito or Tenzo disagreed.

[shoezuki]

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack 

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises. 

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears. 

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones. 

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other 

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

 he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence. 

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him. 

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter. 

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned. 

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

[catboynecromancy]

Adam and Ronan get themselves in a mid-sex predicament underneath the cut (NSFW)

-

“That’s – fuck, yeah – right there – right there – right fucking there – dammit!”

The raspy, stilted way Ronan moans out the words between each of his thrusts is almost too much to bear. Adam is already getting dangerously close to climax, edging exponentially closer each time he pounds into Ronan’s tight hole. “Fuck,” he gasps, his grip on the other boy’s hips tightening until it’s likely to leave tiny, finger-shaped bruises. “You feel so good, Ronan. So fucking good, all for me.”

Beneath him, Ronan whimpers and squirms with delight. His back arcs off the mattress, canting his hips to meet Adam halfway with every push. “God, Adam, I’m close. Don’t stop–”

Adam is happier to hear that than he probably should be. He’s been putting in the work, sinking into Ronan at a near merciless pace for a while now and, though fucking Ronan is almost always mindblowing, the need to get off supersedes anything else at this point. Choppy, dusty brown locks cling to Adam’s temples and forehead from sweat, skin feverish, flushed red, and glistening with perspiration. “Touch yourself,” he demands in a low growl. When Ronan doesn’t immediately do this, Adam leans down to press his mouth to the shell of his ear, panting against it. “Now.”

This earns him a pitchy whine, loud and utterly wrecked. Ronan peels his hand from where he’d been grasping at the sheets for dear life, fingers wrapping around his cock and tugging in a stunted attempt at jerking off. Adam cannot see his efforts, but he can feel Ronan’s knuckles brushing against his stomach, and hear how his breathing hitches as he works himself closer, closer, closer.

“That’s a good boy,” Adam huffs into his ear. He licks a strip up the ridged flesh, hips snapping in especially hard, and Ronan keens from the attention. “You wanna come for me, baby?”

Ronan makes another strangled sound, nodding. His jerking becomes even more erratic, desperate in his attempt to get off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah – Adam?”

His fingers dig harsher into soft flesh over bony hips, holding Ronan steady as he fucks faster, rougher, with the intention of guiding them both through a, hopefully, intense orgasm. Adam finds himself at a loss for words so he moans in response, gently knocking his head against Ronan’s and staying there.

“Adam,” Ronan says, again, although this time it sounds much more like he’s invoking God. The hand not working at himself reaches up, wrapping around Adam’s sweaty shoulders, holding him close. “Oh, fuck, I –” He groans, tilting to nuzzle his face into Adam’s. “I – love – you –”

“I love you, Ronan –”

There’s a long moment where it’s just the wet sound of Adam sinking into Ronan, over and over, mixed with their moans and futile gasps for air. Ronan’s muscles begin to tense, a telling sign he’s nearly there, and it’s then he says, “We should – get married.”

“What?” Adam thinks it might be a good idea to stop, force Ronan to explain himself, ask what the hell? But he’s almost there, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to come in Ronan’s ass after all the effort he’s put in getting to this point.

Ronan gives a particularly vulgar noise. His nails drive into the back of Adam’s shoulder, holding on. “Marry me,” He says with more force than before, like he really, truly means it.

Maybe he does.

Fuck.

Adam doesn’t have the brain capacity to figure it out. All he can think of is the aching need to get off, how he’s hot all over, and the friction as Ronan envelops every inch of his dick. There are multitudes of Adam Parrish and this is one of them – a teenage boy, addicted to his insufferably hot boyfriend, the pleasure he can derive from his often pliant body, the rush of adrenaline at climax, and the endorphins that follow. “Yes,” he responds, although it might be more about the way he’s feeling than an actual answer.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes, yes –”

“Oh, fucking God.”

“Louder,” Adam groans. “Really wanna hear you, baby boy.”

With a slow, rolling moan, Ronan gives in. He comes hard and unabashed and every bit as viciously as Adam wants. His body jerks, muscles tightening around Adam, totally uncontrolled, while he fucks Ronan through it. Hot, sticky cum paints their stomachs and Adam lets himself go, then, too. With more rough thrusts, his own orgasm washes over Adam and he allows himself to spill deep inside of Ronan in a way that makes his thoughts go mineminemine.

He moves slow, careful, relishing the now much wetter slide before coming to a complete stop. Adam presses his forehead to Ronan's, burning sweaty skin to burning sweaty skin, eyes closed and trying to catch his breath. They stay like that, silent save for their heavy pants for air, and Adam is calm, happy, head clear of all thoughts except for relief.

It would last longer, probably, if Ronan didn't start squirming awkwardly underneath him. Adam squints one eye open but all he sees is blurry pale, speckled skin and dark lashes. "What are you doing?" He asks, trying not to sound exasperated, but he's tired and all he really wants is to roll off of Ronan and take a nap.

"Nothing," Ronan grunts out, but he doesn't stop moving like he's having a difficult time staying still.

"Ronan, tell me."

"I'm just excited."

Adam blinks, curious and a little confused. "About?"

"We're engaged."

"We're…" Adam trails off and a heavy pit of apprehension behind to form in his stomach. "What?"

"Engaged," Ronan repeats. "I asked. You said yes."

"I…"

Adam stops to think, rewind his thoughts back a few minutes. Realization smacks him in the face and he shifts up, staring down at Ronan with wide, blue eyes. "That wasn't an actual proposal."

"No, it was." Ronan stares back, his expression serious. He's beautiful in his intensity, with his steady, ice-cold gaze, the slightest curl up of his lips, and skin gleaming from exertion. "I really meant it," he pauses and asks in a much smaller voice, "You didn't?"

"We can't be engaged."

"Why not?"

"We are only nineteen!"

"Your point being?" God, he's so haughty and self-righteous and sure of himself. Adam hates it and loves it.

Adam finally shifts back and tosses himself down next to Ronan on the bed, glaring up at the ceiling as he considers what his point actually is. "We're too young," he says, tapping fingers on his still lightly heaving ribcage. "And we haven't even been dating a year."

"I've been dating you in my head a lot longer than that," Ronan replies with such confidence, it's as if what he's saying isn't really fucking weird.

"That doesn't count. Also, yikes."

"Yikes?"

"One hundred percent, yikes to the max."

"You don't love me? You don't want to marry me?"

And there it is. Adam flips onto his side so he can look at Ronan, whose head is tilted towards him. "I do. Someday."

"What's the difference between now and someday if you're already planning on it?”

He opens his mouth and shut it, brows furrowing. Adam hates that Ronan has a point, hates that a part of him feels excitement at the thought of being contractually attached to him, hates how he wants to flip Ronan over, fuck him, make him ask it all over again while he's inside his ass just so he can really take it all in.

"This is ridiculous," Adam says instead. "You're being ridiculous."

"You're being ridiculous, Parrish."

"I can't stand you sometimes."

Ronan gives his typical jackal's laugh. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Adam pushes him. Ronan shifts onto his side so he can return it, harder than the one given. They end up in a tangle of long limbs and sweaty bodies, with Adam struggling for control, and Ronan ultimately winning. He gets Adam pinned underneath his broader, more muscular form, slots between his legs, holding his hands together helplessly above his head. No matter how much Adam struggles, he can't get free, and his arousal begins to build once more as Ronan grinds down on him.

"The worst," Adam moans, lids fluttering as he tries and fails again to free himself.

Ronan leans down, nestling his face to Adam's good ear. "You love it," he whispers in a raspy, sexy tone. "You wanna marry me so bad, you're just afraid to look stupid."

"Yeah," Adam agrees, desire clouding his thoughts. "Fuck, yeah."

"We'll lie and tell everyone we're doing it to get you on my insurance."

"Wait, you have insurance?"

"Not what you should be focusing on right now."

Adam makes a soft groan of assent. "Okay, insurance, whatever. Just – fucking – keep going."

Ronan rolls his hips lazily, laughing. "So needy."

He doesn't bother arguing because he is needy and, maybe, just stupidly obsessed with Ronan enough to go through with this horrible idea.

They'll come up with some believable excuse for the sudden engagement, allowing Adam to win in two ways. He gets to call Ronan his fiancé, and no one will think he's as much of an idiot as he is.

[insufferablelust]

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE. (iii)

Hi lovelies! Here it is, the third installment to TAAHM, and this has some kissing and lots of build ups so no smut yet, but we’re getting there! oh and as i mentioned this story will be quite dark— i mean not that dark i will never write about rape etc. But the whole generic theme is based on the reader’s psychological state where she’s basically an HSP where she feels twice as much and she becomes obsessed way too quickly. Some of these things are adaption from my personal background so please if you feel uncomfortable you can read other fanfics thank you and read at your own risk! as always excuse the grammars! Xx, D.

WARNINGS : Dark themed, upcoming Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, No smut yet (soon), Detailed Mentions of murder and corpse?, upcoming dark kinks (but not all the time, so expect some vanilla stuff too), SSA!Reader, !more upcoming warnings soon!

masterlist here to check out the first and second chapter!

———🍃———

{If perfectionism were inches, he’d go on for miles and miles. But if there are none, then he’s one.}

CHAPTER 3

You’re utterly fucked.

His voice played in your head over and over again as you drove back home from the BAU, you can feel that you are physically inside the car but your mind is stuck to where Spencer goes. It’s like he’s taunting you with every passing second, and the thought drove you crazy. You always had a crush on him, but all those months you thought he never liked you, never made an effort to at least get to know you but why now? you wanted to scream out so bad, nails digging into the steering wheel before pulling over the side of the road and grabbed your phone— contemplating whether you listen to your brain saying that he’s toying with you or your heart and your desire to just... text him.

“Do i make you nervous?”

His stupid voice is the one that made your fingers search for his number. You bit your lip harshly as you weigh your options, you could either text him and wait for a possibly long overdue answer or you could just give him a call, It’s not weird giving your coworker a call right? You tried to make sense of yourself before hitting the call button and curses under your breath “fuck it”

“Hello? Y/n? Are you okay?” you took a sharp breath at the sound of his voice, laced with worry. There’s a part inside of you that yearn to tell him that no, you’re not okay because the game you’ve been playing really start to mess with your emotions, except you answered with a tiny “I’m okay, um are you at rossi’s yet?”

He chuckled, “No, i decided not to go, figured that i’m way too tired” your heart clenched, wanting to take care of his tired self,

“well! you should get some rest right now” you hurriedly mumbled, cursing at the sound of your very shaky voice. “Y/n what’s wrong? you know you can tell me anything right?” I have a crush on your stupid ass— thats whats wrong.

“No- no i was about to ask about this uh um the last case—“

“It’s about the question isn’t it?”

“what?” you let out a choked out mewl, taking a deep breath, making a mental note for yourself to just keep breathing.

“The question, Do i make you nervous? isn’t that why you called me?” Your heart raced that if he’s close enough to the phone, you’re convinced he can hear the thump. “Spence— i uh, yeah.” the voice you let out is barely a whisper, you almost hope that he didn’t caught it, but of course he did.

“Is that yes to the question?” You were about to answer his question before he interrupted “You don’t even have to say it Y/n, I know that i make you nervous.”

“How—“

“How would i know? Alright, you never called me before, not unless there’s an emergency or a case, that’s why i got worried when you called. Your breathing—“ he paused for a second, taking a deep breath when he hears the tiny whine that escaped out of your lips, before continuing,

“Your breathing is labored, i can hear you hitches every time i said something that you know is true, i can also hear the way your knee bounce and hitting the dashboard each time- it’s a nervous tic and the only time you do it is when i’m near you. and from the way you stayed silent, trying to keep down any noises is the answer i needed to know that i’m right. The right question isn’t do i make you nervous, but why?”

When he finished talking, you hadn’t even realized that your knees were bouncing, immediately stilled your leg and cleared your throat, pushing every bit of bravery you have left to answer him “My apartment, in an hour. I’ll grab chinese on the way, and we can talk?”

“I’ll be there”

“Okay, ill see you—“

“And princess? drive safe”

Just Fucked.

————

Your knees just couldn’t stop shaking with excitement as you set your small dining table with Chinese take outs, you even made sure to have spoon and fork ready for Spencer since he won’t use his chopsticks, smiling at the perfect looking table— you sprinted to your bedroom to check your appearance one last time. Wearing a simple dress and cardigan on top seemed appropriate enough to meet your coworker right? you stare at yourself in the mirror before adjusting the hair that fell down your sides, and taking a deep breath.

Knock, knock

You braced yourself, taking a deep breath before opening the door to see a smiling Spencer still in his work clothes with what looks like bags of candies in his hand— you could’ve sworn you were about to cry because he remembered, he remembered how much you love your candies, reminding you over and over again that the cause of your hyper-ness cant be from candies, “Sugar rush is not a thing (Y/n)” He said once before spewing out more statistics about sugar. But god, don’t you love it.

“Spencer, come in.” You stepped back as you let him in, before closing the door and wait for him to take off his converse and coat. The silence made you nervous, that you don’t even realize that you’re tapping your knuckles on the wooden door until he mentioned it,

“There, you’re nervous.” He dropped the candy bag—practically thrown it on the couch as he cornered you, with his chest pressing against yours and his hand cupping your jaw so delicately that you flutter your eyes shut, engulfing the warmth thats radiating off of him.

“What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours (Y/n)?” He whispered, knuckles brushing over your cheeks ever so slightly, causing the goosebumps to rise at his command, it’s crazy how much control he has over you already like he holds your life in his, but you don’t complained— you want this, you craved it. You have craved the feeling of being obsessed with someone again, it’s been so long since you’ve given up control, and your mind and body just wants a break from all the stress you’ve put yourself through it. And Spencer— Spencer might just be the perfect escape.

“you..” Your voice is thick and scratchy, like something was pressing against your throat, when in reality it was a mixture of lust and desire. “Me? What about me?” His eyes never left yours, as he brush your noses together. He was so close that you can almost taste his skin, you can almost feel the emotions that runs deep within his veins, what is it about Spencer Reid that draws you in so much?

Then he pulled away, with a satisfied grin on his face “I don’t know princess, you tell me” You were about to ask what he meant before the wheels in your head are finally clicking; you were thinking out loud— oh how he loves it when your cheeks are flushed, eyes droop as you endure yet another wave of embarrassment, and something about being this is so raw and exposed- not physically but you can almost sense it, sense how he sees what got you so needy, so powerless against him. It’s almost like he’s seen you naked before; naked below your skin, like he’s seen your insides, every right turns that ignite the fire inside of you, and every right switch that makes you tic and you’d be crazy if you’d say you don’t enjoy every bit of it.

“You know— you know what it is, you just want to taunt me” You gathered enough bravery to speak at last, biting your lower lip right after the words slipped out of your mouth, until his thumb pressed down just below the part that you don’t get to bite and pull. “Y/n, Stop biting your lip, or i’ll bite it for you.” His breathing is shallow, like he’s holding something back, and now is not the time to hold back— you thought. now is the time to just let go.

“Talk is cheap, Dr.Reid” You smiles cheekily— almost borderline bratty, and you know it. But the second those words left your mouth, the look on his face makes you hold out your whine— the look on his face is the look of anger, anger and full of temptation, like when adam bit the forbidden fruit. It was so stern that you almost apologize, wanting nothing more than to please him not disobey him. But before you get the chance, he pressed his lips against yours in a bruising manner.

This is it— the moment you’ve been craving.

The moment his lips touched yours, you surrender all control to him, giving him your all without even asking for anything in return, it’s like you were born to be his— the drunken lust part of your mind doesn’t seem to want to understand the logic behind any of this and how dangerous it is, not when the man you’ve loved for a long time is now sucking on your lower lip and push his tongue in to tangle it with yours. The sounds were filthy, filled with gasps and wet noises, your noses bumps against each other but you couldn’t care less, the oxygen grew thin inside your lungs but none of you seemed to mind, you were savoring each and every passing second of this.

His fingers are warm but the tips are cold suggesting how nervous and excited he was, you tilt your neck backwards as he wrapped them right on your neck, pressing them ever so gently, the pressure is enough to let you gasp out a moan onto the kiss. You both were positively burning from the pleasure, the need, and the lack of oxygen, everything is clouding your senses as much as its clouding his, and before you know it, he has to pull back in order for you both to still go to work tomorrow.

Gasping, you gulped down as much oxygen as possible as your knees buckled, you’re pretty sure you would’ve fell if it weren’t for his tight grip. You both calmed down, before coming back to your senses, everything is blurry and fuzzy inside your mind, yet you smiled— looking up at his disheveled state and smiled, “What does this mean?” is the only question you can get out of your chest.

“I— i may or may not have a crush on you Y/n..” he trailed off, licking his lips as he took a step back, his movements were so calculated and gentle that you’re afraid you had said something wrong that makes his demeanor changed— as if he didn’t know how happy you were to found out that your love for him isn’t one sided.

Gently, you reached for his hand then drag him with you down to sit on the sofa, grabbing the candy bag and picked out a cherry lollipop. Spencer let out a chuckle as he shakes his head— looking at you as you peeled the wrapper.

“What?”

“Nothing..”

“Spencer what?” You pouts as you hold the lollipop between your fingers, waiting for him to answer, “nothing, you just.. that’s your favorite” he smiled “i remembered the first day you joined, you were so nervous that you didn’t even realized you were still sucking on your cherry lollipop, only letting go of them when you saw me and your jaw—“

“Okay, you can stop now!” You paused him, pushing the lollipop through his lips, hiding your face on the crook of your arms, he laughs loudly as you hit his chest twice,

“Hey i’m just saying facts Princess, you were so cute i almost had the mind to bend you over the desk that very moment the lollipop dropped out of you gaping jaw.” He always managed to make every cell in your body feel like they’re being burned but- the good burn. You couldn’t help but to clench your thighs at his ‘facts’. This is the Spencer reid you never knew existed behind all the books and statistics. And you can’t lie and say that you didn’t love both because you love everything about him.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because that’ll not be appropriate would it baby? In a work place after all, or have you thought about that before hm? me bending you over my table when everyone’s watching as you suck on these little lollipops that you love so much?” He pulled the lollipop out of his lips before smearing the sticky top on your lips, before throwing it to the trash can then pressing his lips on yours to kiss you again, this time gentler.

He took his time on devouring you, savoring every inch of your lips, and the depth of warmth inside your mouth like he was trying to imprint the feeling inside his memory so he could relived it over and over again— well he didn’t have to, you are his.

He pulled back gently as he smiled at you, you searched his eyes to know what he’s worrying about, and you knew exactly what it is. “I- i have had the longest crush on you too.. Spencer” You mumbled, playing with your fingers and reminiscing the taste of his lips on yours as you ran your tongue over them.

“But we can’t...”

“I know you’d say that.”

“How?”

“Lets just say, you were not as good at keeping your secrets as you thought you were, Princess.”

Your heart dropped and for the hundredth time that night, you knew you’re fucked for real this time.

————————

TBC!

Taglist and Long Blurb requests are open, feel free to leave a message if you want in! you can also message me any feedbacks or constructive criticism. And lastly, please like + reblog! thank you!

SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE TAG, TUMBLR DECIDED MY WORK DOESNT DESERVE RECOGNITION AND THE HASTAGS DOESNT WORK SO I HAVE TO DO A REUPLOAD! so sorry!

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives )

[statticscribbles]

Shadow

Summary: Steve/Billy, I love some good body horror, also this was written like years ago, so it might be a little different to my usual style

He’s tried his best to ignore it, the hissing; the way he can feel his own heartbeat being twisted into screams; how nothing smells the same; there’s some sort of sweet rotting scent, like vomit or drying meat. It takes him far too long to realise its himself; he watches the veins, the tendrils sliding against his skin, he runs his fingers over them, feeling ridges and coils he knows he shouldn’t. He cant help but shiver, picturing unblemished skin, picture harring-don’t think don’t think don’t think, he screams in tandem with the veins, with the creature that sinks below his skin as he sunk below the world, do not give him away, keep him safe keep him safe, don’t think don’t think, he knows its dissecting him, pulling him apart in pieces, internally; he imagines someone cutting him open once it kills him; his brain scrambled beyond function, his organs cut into chunks, into ribbons and shredded beyond the worst murders any of them have seen.

He can feel movement, not under his skin as he expects but himself moving; he knows he hasn’t been outside in hours weeks days, too long; he cant feel the sun, cant feel the cold wither; he’s not sure what he needs to wear; he’s unconcerned, he needs- dont think dont think dont think; it breaks, the way he grits his teeth scowling at himself at how the veins choke against him; with how they recede, how he can feel warmth suddenly rushing through him like water; he knows it knows too; he’d tried, he reminds himself, took the better part of however long it had been; he likes to think days; he knows he probably doesn’t have that.

He’s moving too fast, begging himself to slow down, to act human to appear what everyone sees him as. Nothing changes except he can no longer feel once more; he knows he should be tired dimly recognising the area he’s in, how far he’s traveled; how far it forced him to go, he staggers forward unsure of the ringing in his ears, the way the ground twists, his face hitting the grass; he wonders if the ground will swallow him once more. Instead light floods his vision, he can see feet moving towards him; he struggles finding himself bound to the earth; he can feel the veins pulsing the excitement they both feel is making him sick.

-Jesus- He doesn’t hear the figure speak just knows the way the face moves and the concern melts; he can feel the figure picking him up; he feels like he should weight ten tons but the veins are so busy thrumming in his ears he’s barely aware the figure is talking let alone the other people who seem to have appeared, he wants to shut his eyes; the lights are undulating against the shapes and items he no longer can name. He can feel everything spinning around him as a central point; he cant even move to turn to vomit; he cant hear anything suddenly; everything fully being silenced. he doesn’t struggle, doesn’t move frozen; numb; waiting for what happens after the silence; waiting for the screaming; the sound of bone snapping and fragmenting; the feeling of blood dripping from inside him to pool against his skin and muscles unbroken.

Nothing comes; he tentatively closes his eyes relieved when he can. He sleeps on his own for the first time. He doesn’t wake up, just as he doesn’t fall asleep. He’s only aware of the not being when his vision seems to return to him, when the blurry expanse of gray and blue pull back, the flashes of light and prickle of fire recede from his body. He cannot turn his head. He cannot move his body. He cannot feel what is not his; for the veins, the smoke that bleeds from under his skin has soaked against his body, he can feel it feather light in its movements as it coils around his organs, snakes between his bones and pulls the marrow from them. He knows he shouldn’t fight anymore; not now, not yet; he lets the smoke, the cool leeching from inside him settle centered in his chest.

He wonders if the smoke is what’s keeping his heart beating, surprised when he can feel the hold it keeps over him lessen. Fix it, fix it, fix it. Is all that come through when he tries to move, tries to think about what is suddenly flashing in front of his vision. Hand, fingers, arm. He sighs, letting the air return to his lungs by himself. He cringes knowing the creature has given him control back to posess someone. He reaches half blind towards the heartbeat the creature allows him to hear. Take, take, take. He’s confused when he can feel panic rise, the smoke bubbling into his throat cutting his breathing off. Wrong, wrong wrong. He leans his head against the wall keeping his eyes closed trying to avoid the feeling of everything twisting from under him. He opens them slowly surprised to see something sitting across from him. He doesn’t scream, his eyes clouded, he wonders why he can’t see.

“Billy, what happened.” Oh no.no, no no, wrong wrong wrong, not him not him, not him. He wants to vomit, he can feel his mouth cracking, his teeth grinding as he pries them open, fighting his own nerve impulses and synapses to manage to unlock his jaw. His vision goes black but the sound stays, he can hear it, the same creature that came to him in the other place, the broken screaming thing that stuttered and vomited sound, that was drowning in static and too much of everything, warping his vision the same as it is now. The sound is what he remembers, he can feel his arms, his hands trying to move towards his own mouth, to shut him down, to bring him to control once again. He can hear the scream clearer, its more of a whine, a pitiful noise the kind animals make when they’re wounded, not a creature from the other place he reasons, something from this place, something from here. He can feel a finger hooking into his mouth, his own trying to force his jaw closed or maybe to make him puke the creature so it can find a new host, so it can find something better.

Instead he doesn’t scream , he cannot when half is hand is being crushed by his teeth. He doesn’t feel pain, he can’t feel anything just as he can’t see and then he can’t hear. He knows the creature is angry, he can feel the way it ripples against him, like water damp and heavy. It vanishes all at once, and suddenly he’s lying on a bed, in a house, in a room , in Steve’s room, with Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve bleeding from his hand, half of which is now on the bed sitting next to him. He looks up, Steve’s face twisted in horror, his hand reaching hesitantly out. Fear, fear fear, he’s afraid he’s afraid of you, you’re bad, you’re bad. He can hear it echoing before everything is taken away again. He understands his last view of Steve the figure was meant to be agonizing for him to think of.

He’s not sure if he’s sitting or laying once more, he can faintly feel a hand somewhere against him and he reasons someone must had at least restrained him. Those wont stop us, we need, we need. He screams into his head, howling and trying his best to drown it out. He’s given sound and partial sight back, he’s still sitting, the figure Steve is next to him, he flexes his fingers twining them with Steve the figure’s. He watches the figure relax, can see his mouth moving but not the sound that comes out. He watches, tracking his eyes and skipping a breath when he sees his hand, uninjured next to him; the part he’d bitten off, the fingers he’d crushed under his teeth sit next to it, blood staining the sheet and the flesh itself a dull gray and sheened black. “What’s going on,Billy, what happened?” He swallows confused how clear Steve is. “It; it wants-“ “Want’s what?” Steve’s fingers tighten, the other hand brushing up his arm. Wants you, wants you wants you, want you, want you, want you. “Don’t know, just know I’m supposed to bring it what it wants.” “You can’t remember anything from-“ His voice cuts off, as if he’s underwater and he waits patiently for Steve the figure’s voice to return. “Billy?” He relishes in how comforting his name is. He blinks at Steve, not nodding, not moving, the burning in his chest reminding him he’s not breathing either. He waits, curious which will give in first.

“It wants you.” He breathes out before it can choke him back down. Steve freezes nodding slowly. “Why?” “Because I want you.” Steve’s eyebrows knit together but he nods. “And you’re the creature right so-?”

“No! I want you! You’re mine!” No right to him, no right to him, mine mine mine. He screeches, snarling in the space between them before he tugs Steve even closer, pulling him on top of himself effortlessly, he can dimly hear the hand, his hand, thunking to the floor and he pays no mind as he curls around Steve. He doesn’t struggle, laying there limp, shaking only slightly. He can feel his hand running through Steve’s hair, humming softly. Mine mine mine mine. “It wants what I have what everyone here does, it wants. It hurts with it, like I do, why we match so well.” He mumbles hand petting Steve’s hair. “I thought it wanted to take the world?” “Yes.”

“Am I like a gateway or somethin’? If anything El would-“ “Mine.” Billy hisses between his teeth and Steve looks up. “Oh.” Billy hums please when Steve nods slowly, he presses their forehead together and they sit content in silence for a moment, Billy trying his best not to choke on the veins that burrow into him like barbs.

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[hitokayachichi]

⛧ you get me closer to god; a tendou satori fic ⛧

⛧ ... school stress makes you do crazy things!! ...like try to summon your guardian angel and summon a demon instead  ⛧

⛧ ... first part of my sadist!tendou series hehe

⛧ ... ahh a little bit is inspired by seita, both for the idea of sadist!tendou, but her blog is rly supportive and welcoming has also given me the confidence to write lewds, and I really appreciate that :>

wc: 6.5k

cw: demon!Tendou, smut, degredation, praise, corruption kink, sadist!tendou, bdsm elements, pet names :>, spit kink, dumbification kind of, there might be something else i cant remember hhfkdjfs

Staring at your open notebook, you rub your eyes tiredly. It’s only one in the afternoon, but your Precalculus class has drained all of your energy. Your professor was absolutely insane, assigning so much homework. Doesn’t he know that college students take more than one class per semester? In your head, you’re already planning out the order in which you’re going to have to do your assignments and when. How late you’re going to have to stay up. All you want to do is take a nap after your last class, but will you even have time for that?

Class is over now, so you pack up your things and leave. At least your next class is much easier. Your Creative Writing professor is super sweet and you’d take a bullet for her, probably. Besides, your friend, Mayu, will be there, too. She always makes you feel better. Mayu has a sweet, but a little chaotic personality that usually rejuvenates you on bad days.

And there she is, waiting at one of the seats in the hallway. Once she sees you, she waves you over to the table excitedly. Her laptop and notebooks are out because she had a half-hour break between classes, and you gently push the notebooks aside to sit next to her.

“Hey, (y/n) guess what! I finally figured out your issue for Precal!” Normally Mayu is on some kind of bullshit, but since you were texting her during class earlier, it piqued your interest.

“Hmm?”

“Look!” Mayu exclaims, pointing at her computer screen. You lean over and it looks like she’s on some sort of forum webpage? It doesn’t look like any popular one that you’ve seen before, but you squint, trying to read.

... angel summoning?

“Mayu, what the hell?” As you read the forum page, you become more and more confused. The users spoke about chalk circles and meditation and wine and bread to summon your ancestral guardians, or something like that. It’s a little too much, right now. Your brain is still spinning from class.

Mayu is into some pretty unconventional things, so you aren’t exactly surprised, but each and every time she suggests some odd thing, you’re still a little... impressed with what she finds. “Okay, listen!” You look at her, and she just smiles at the way you’re telling her to shut up with your eyes. It’s never worked on her.

“Hear me out, (y/n). This is something I’ve actually done before, so I can one hundred thousand per cent guarantee that it works, I promise you.” A huge part of you wants to roll your eyes at her, but once again, you aren’t exactly surprised that she would have attempted something like this. “I met my guardian angel and she’s the one that helped me get accepted here! She guided me during my application and here I am!”

You just stare at her. “Right...”

“I swear on my life!” She begins to pack up her things, now that class is soon to start, and you shake your head at her. But by now she was finished with the conversation and is prattling about some girl she met in one of her other classes.

It’s so stupid, but the whole class, your mind keep tabs on that forum, just at the edge of consciousness.

⛧  … 

It’s 2:13 am and you very much hate your life. You’re exhausted and stressed. It’s way past your normal bedtime but you just have so much Precal homework to do. You feel like you’re drowning. Maybe it’s just because it’s late and you’re tired, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about what Mayu suggested. Mayu might be into some pretty odd things, but she most definitely isn’t dumb. If she’s said she’s done it before... maybe summoning an angel really does work?

You shake your head. That’s stupid. Rubbing your eyes, you get back to your homework. You have thirteen more questions left on this assignment, and then another fifteen question one. There’s no time to mess around.

So why can’t you get it out of your head?

You last six minutes before texting Mayu.

She tells you to make a sugar circle in your room, with bread and wine in the middle. It’s just you in your tiny studio apartment, and you’re a little too busy to really bake anything that needs sugar, so all you have is a tiny little thing that you use for your coffee. It’s not nearly enough to make a circle with. You use salt instead. Wine isn’t a drink that you typically have on hand either, but you have some leftover vodka that someone had left from a rare party that you had hosted like a year ago. It’s alcohol, so you figure it’ll work. The only thing that you actually had from what Mayu texted was bread, but you have a disappointing feeling that sliced bread from the grocery store isn’t quite what she meant either.

But you’re summoning an angel, after all. None of this is really as it seems.

There is a chant that Mayu sent you in what she says is Hebrew. That.. isn’t a language that you speak, so you know for a fact you aren’t going to say it right. You don’t know if it even truly is Hebrew. But once you draw the circle, light the red candle (Mayu said a white candle, but you only had red, so), and set up the alcohol and bread, you begin chanting.

Mayu had told you to go through the chant only once. But, doing so once, nothing happened. Twice, nothing happened. Thrice, with the same result. There was no smoke, no poof of magic, and most importantly, no guardian angel. Nothing.

You sigh, disappointed with yourself. The one time you trust Mayu’s ridiculousness, and it ends up like this. How could you be so dumb? Of course, no guardian angel is going to save you from math homework. If they even exist at all, they definitely have much more important things to do than a college student’s work. Sitting back down at your desk, you shoot a quick text to Mayu that it didn’t work.

She says to be patient, that it might come at one of the angel numbers. You don’t know what that is, but you’re tired. At this point, you just want to finish a couple more questions, then head to bed. The rest will be an issue for the future (y/n) to deal with.

But, as much as you wish to sleep, something keeps you up. You retired to your bed half an hour ago, at three. Most of your homework is completed, except for maybe a few questions. That’s something you can do before class, though. If you manage to fall asleep, that is.

There’s this itch underneath your skin, tingles with every move you make. It’s been like this for a while. you think. Maybe you’re getting sick. It’s hot, but you don’t feel like you have a fever. No, this is something different. The heat isn’t focused in your head, and you aren’t sweaty. Subconsciously, your thighs are clamped shut, hips softly moving. It feels good. You feel a little high.

The red light of your alarm clock illuminates your face as you stare at the time.

3:33 AM

Oh.

A little bit of you understands, but your mind has become a little hazy, a little foggy like cold November mornings. From the horror movies you’ve watched, seeing this specific time blinking red is unsettling.

Almost as if on queue, the floorboards creak in the hallway. Your cunt clenches, and you can’t help it. There are goosebumps on your arms, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. Slowly, you sit up. You normally leave a nightlight plugged into the socket across from your door in the hallway so that you don’t have to turn on a blinding light when you need to use the restroom at night. You can see it through the gap under your door, unless something is blocking it.

You watch the shine of the light disappear.

There’s someone in front of your door.

Curling your toes, you hold your breath, waiting. At this point, you think, there’s nothing you can do.

Slowly, steadily, you hear the lock on your door click, and watch as the door slowly opens.

Clearly, the summoning had worked.

But this is no angel.

Mottled black and purple horns protrude from the figure’s head, just barely illuminated by the dull lamp at your bedside table. His hair is red, and stands up. There’s a predatory smirk on his face, and your body heats. He’s wearing black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, and the skin on his knees look normal, but his hands are shaded a gradient of black and purple.

This, no questions asked, is a demon.

You frown, corners of your mouth wobbling. Surely, you are going to die, but you can’t help but feel something else. The way the demon looks at you is hungry, and it should not be so arousing. Perhaps he is going to eat your soul. But you think the fear does something for you too.

“Ah,” the demon says, smiling with sharp teeth. “How cute,” All you can do is stare at him. “How lucky am I to have someone as innocent as you,” the demon purrs and steps closer to your bed. “Look at the way you’re trembling, darling,” he reaches a finger out, and his nails are black and clawed. You can feel the tip of it on your chin, poking at you, and you lift your head with the movement of his finger to look him right in the eyes. You didn’t realize that you were shaking, but you stop now, paralyzed as you look into his eyes. They’re ravenous, and dark. No pupils, just blackness, but it’s piercing. There’s no way to really tell where he is looking, but you know that he’s staring straight through you.

The demon leans down to get level with you, where you sit up in bed. He grins, and his teeth are so sharp.

He’s going to tear you apart.

“Darling,” he murmurs, and his forked tongue darts out to lick at a tear you didn’t feel slide down your cheek. “I’m going to have so much fun with you,”

Once again, you tremble at his words. You have no idea what that means, but you’re certain these are your last moments. Taking a deep breath, you speak. “Are you going to eat me?” You mumble, quietly. The demon laughs loudly at you.

“Oh, sweetheart, cute. Of course, I’m going to eat you right up, how could I not?” He leans down further to lap at your neck, and your thighs clench together. Something about the sensation of his tongue and his proximity to you is so.. intoxicating, yet terrifying at the same time. You don’t know what to feel. Maybe you do want him to eat you.

“Am I going to die?” He lays you down, amused at your questions. You go pliantly, his tongue leaving you boneless. “No, not if you’re a good girl. Not if you don’t want to die. Do you want to die? Or do you want to be a good girl?” You are quiet for a moment, as you decide. A part of you wouldn't mind if you were eaten by him. His presence leaves your head foggy, almost as if you were tipsy on sweet wine. Perhaps you were just tipsy on his scent. He smells like earth and smoke and sulfur, something that makes your nose itch and your head hurt but leaves your thighs clenched together in the same breath. 

"No... I suppose I don't want to die," you whisper, as if speaking any louder will whisk him away. 

"So you're going to be my good girl, darling?" His right-hand slides over your chest and ghosts over your throat, his feeling of his fingertips lingering. He cups your jaw, thumb pulling at the corner of your mouth, and you only gaze at him, mesmerized. "Well, pretty? Good girls answer when asked a question." You nod, squeezing your eyes shut just for a moment.

"I-" you stutter when his left-hand slips under your sleep shirt, caressing the expanse of your stomach. "I'll be your good girl, um. Demon, sir." The demon laughs genuinely at that, leaning down to pull you in a short yet sultry kiss. He tastes like sweet nectarines, saccharine and syrupy, and you want to taste more. 

"You can call me Satori, sweetheart." Satori hums, kissing you once again. as if he knows how much you loved how he tasted. "Do you know what I'm here for? You called me here, after all." You shake your head, bashful that you had botched your summoning so awfully.

"... no, Satori, sir. I had, um, I had meant to summon an angel to help me with my math homework." Satori grins, forked tongue poking out between his teeth. With every word you speak, he looks more and more amused.

"And you got me instead, how ironic. You, my love, have summoned a demon." Of course, you had assumed that, it's quite obvious that Satori is nothing close to an angel. Yet, hearing the words, the confirmation, slithering off of his tongue leaves goosebumps. "I'll give you your deepest and darkest desires, darling," Satori drawls, his hand cold over your rib cage. When you shiver, you aren't sure if it's from the temperature or the touch itself. But you want it. The air around you is heavy with want, dark and leaden, weighing on you. 

"Okay," you whisper, because you don't really know what else to say. What else can you say? There is a demon in front of you, on top of you, touching you, kissing you, and he's going to ruin you. There is nothing that you can say. Your body speaks for you, with the way that you tremble beneath Satori, dripping with arousal.

"I know that you want it, pretty. I can smell it on you." Satori leans down, licking a stripe up the side of your neck, inhaling when he gets to the juncture between your jaw and your ear. "I can taste it." He bites at your earlobe, and it provokes a soft moan from you. "I'll eat you up, sweetheart." He sits up a little, just enough to pull you into a kiss, and this, this one is so... heady. Satori tastes so delicious, you just want to drink him up, and kissing him makes your head so cloudy in the best way you've ever felt. No drug could ever make you feel like this. When he pulls away, Satori leaves one hand on your jaw, and the other on your stomach slides up to cup your breast, squeezing firmly, but gently, and heat pools at your stomach. When you gasp, Satori hooks his thumb into your mouth so you can't close it all the way. Drool spills out of the corner.

"Oh, darling, look at you. So gorgeous, already drooling for me. Do you like how I taste, pretty?" You nod, tears pricking at your eyes, his words so sickly sweet, condescending in the most addicting way possible. "Of course you do. My spit is an aphrodisiac. Don't you feel it, sweetheart? Feel yourself go dumb with every taste?" A strangled sound leaves your throat, so desperate already. Satori laughs, so amused by your pathetic tears. You watch as he gathers spit on his forked tongue, watch as he leans over you and lets the spit from his tongue drip into your mouth. Immediately, the fruity taste explodes across your tongue and you whine at him, thighs clenching together. Your skin feels so hot, feverish and sweaty and you haven't really even done anything yet. 

"Look at you," Satori drawls as you moan at his touch. He caresses your cheek so gently compared to his words. "So pathetic, just lying here, letting me touch you. Looking so innocent but you're a little whore, aren't you? You even let me spit in your mouth, how disgusting!" The smooth pads of his fingers leave your cheek, only to connect harshly once again with a loud smack. The moan you let out is desperate, and sounds foreign even to your own ears.

He had slapped you, and you liked it.

Satori stands and roughly drags you to the edge of the bed, and you squeal in surprise. It's a little frightening, how his demeanour has hardened, but you're still wet and throbbing, and heat still flows through your body. You find that you enjoy being manhandled like this. It makes you feel like prey, and perhaps you are.

Gripping your waist, Satori fingers the edges of your pyjama shorts, grinning when you look up at him with teary eyes. The bulge in his pants is huge, and your cunt squeezes with the thought of something so big inside of you. He takes the waistband of your shorts and pulls, not hard enough to rip them, but it hurts a little when he yanks them off, and a part of you hopes that he handles you roughly enough tonight to leave bruises. With this, you feel surprised. You've never really had thoughts like this before. 

You feel corrupted.

Once your shorts are off, Satori sighs, one hand splayed over your hipbone and the other softly running up the wet patches on your underwear. "Have you ever been touched here before, darling?"

 You squirm in his hold, cunt sensitive already. "Um," you stutter, toes curling when he presses just the tiniest bit harder at your clit. "Kind of, I guess," While you weren't a virgin, you most definitely haven't felt anything like this before. Satori only smiles.

"I don't know about that," he says, moving your panties to the side. He settles lower onto the bed, closer to your abdomen, and kisses lightly at your stomach. "I don't think you've ever been touched like this before, not with the way that you're so responsive. Satori kisses at your hipbone, licks at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You gasp when he blows cool air over your pussy. "You smell too pure. Sweet. Like cherries." And he inhales, just slightly, but you can hear it and your hole clenches around nothing, heat swelling in your stomach. You don't think you've ever been so wet before.

"I think I want to ruin you,"

Satori's nails are sharp against the flesh of your thighs, and a part of you wants him to make you bleed. Slowly, you can feel the darkness swirl through the haze of your mind, and you find yourself desiring things that you've never thought of before. When Satori uses his nail to poke sharply at the sensitive skin of your clit, you jerk, and it hurts, but it's good. You don't know what has gotten into you.

"God," you sigh, when he licks up your slit, but Satori shudders at that, a guttural growl leaving his throat. His teeth snap, and he looks up at you with dark eyes. The grip on your thigh has gotten tighter, almost breaking the skin, and your chest is full with arousal.

"Darling," Satori speaks coldly, and you know that you are in trouble. "Do you think it was smart to say such a word around me? Did you forget what I am?" He rises, his fingers still digging into your thigh while the other wraps tightly around your throat. You can still breathe, but it's difficult and there's pressure against your skull. It makes you a little light-headed, and your heart jumps in a pleasurable sort of fear.

"No, Satori, sir, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." you struggle to get out, but you do and he smiles, kissing hungrily at the corners of your mouth and your jawline.

"What a good girl you are, sweetheart. Of course, you weren't thinking, how could I forget how dumb I've made you for me? Just drooling and crying because you're so wet. Pathetic." You whimper at his words, diamond tears in your eyes, because he's right. There are no thoughts in your brain besides arousal and want, the desire for Satori to touch and corrupt you. Satori squeezes at your throat, just a little, but enough for your cunt to clench desperately. He leaves you with a light smack to your cheek, settling down between your legs once again. Instead of pushing them to the side, Satori takes your panties off this time, tugging them off roughly. His hands travel up your thighs, fingers digging so deliciously into your soft flesh. You look down only to see Satori looking at you like he wants to devour you.

And maybe you want him to.

"Fuck," he curses, eyes trained hungrily on your glistening cunt. "You look so appetizing, sweetheart. Gonna eat you right up," And Satori licks at your pussy like he's paid to do it, like he's born for it, and nobody's ever eaten you out before, but Satori quickly has you seeing stars with the way he puts pressure on your clit with his tongue. You sob in his hold, thighs quivering with the way that he eats you out. Soon, he takes a hand off of your thigh to slide a finger between your folds, using your wetness to slick it up enough to slide sweetly into your cunt, and it's only one finger but it presses against your walls and you wail beneath him. You've only ever been fingered once, and it wasn't that good, even with two fingers. Yet, even with just one, you're feeling ten times more pleasure than you ever had before, even by yourself. You squeeze around him as he still sucks on your clit, working a second finger inside of you. Even with his mouth busy, you can feel Satori grin against your cunt, so amused and satisfied with your reactions. When he presses his fingers against your sweet spot, you cry out, hands flying down to grip at his hair. Satori groans, and it's so deep and terrifying, but your toes curl and you feel so so close.

"Satori," you gasp, tears trailing down your cheeks. "Satori, please, wanna feel good, 'm close Satori," and he doesn't respond, can't really with his face buried in your cunt, but suddenly, he works a third finger in and you can't hold it anymore, and you gush around his fingers. He laps it right up, moaning into your pussy, and oh, you must taste good, then, if he's cleaning you up so eagerly. When he licks at your bud again, you jerk, still sensitive, crying out sweetly. It hurts, so you push at his head, but he insists on staying right where he is, with you trembling under him. He keeps the pads of his fingers pressed snugly against your sensitive walls while he continues to suck at your clit, and it's so so much, has you shaking and squirming to get away, but Satori lays his arm over your hips to hold you down. You can feel another orgasm building, and its much too soon. You sniffle beneath him, in tears with overstimulation, but there's amusement in his eyes when he looks up at your ruined face and you know he isn't going to stop until you come again.

"Can't, Satori, no more," you beg, hands pulling at his hair. He only grins into your cunt, fingers working you harder. "Please, no, I can't, not again!" You're sobbing and shaking but his fingers keep moving faster and harder, and when he pulls away from your clit to change his angle, you can feel it even more. "Oh, Satori, it's too much!" But he's smiling hungrily, teeth sharp and terrifying.

"But you love it, darling. Love being ruined, don't you? Wouldn't be so wet if you didn't." His fingers press in all the right places, and suddenly you can feel yourself rolling over the edge once more, and you can't hold it in. You squeal as you squirt all over yourself and his arm, trembling with overstimulation, and you can hardly breathe with the impact of your orgasm. Satori really loves it though, and it seems like with each orgasm that he brought you, his eyes got brighter, like he was feeding off of your pleasure, and maybe he was. He's a demon, after all.

"Fuck," you curse, and your legs twitch with every after-wave of arousal, cunt throbbing with the force of your orgasm. Slowly, Satori slides his fingers out of your sopping cunt, and his arm is dripping, something that you never would have thought you would see, and you clench when he looks you in the eyes and licks at the slick trailing down his forearm. You whimper, head falling back, where you're propped up on your elbows, and your inner thighs burn where Satori has forced them open. 

"So good for me, princess," Satori says coyly, as he continues to lick up your slick. "Taste so delicious, I really want to eat you up, now. Nobody's ever made you do that before, huh? Made your little cunny squirt?" You whimper and shake your head, hands curled up towards your chest, breathless. "Cute," he comments, and he pets himself over his black jeans. He had never alluded to his own pleasure this entire time, that you almost forgot what tends to happen next, and suddenly you get shy, and a little scared.

"Darling," Satori coos when he notices your change in demeanour. "There's no point in being afraid," he laughs, staring straight into your eyes. "I've already ruined you anyways, might as well just take this." You frown, but he's right. He's already made you come twice, and you still feel hot, your cunt is still throbbing and begging to be filled. There is nothing more that you can do but take Satori's cock. 

He's knelt over you, thighs straddling your ribs when he takes his cock out. It's so close to your face, and you go cross-eyed staring at it. Satori is big and thick, and you don't know how he's going to fit anywhere. You've never done more than a handjob before, much less given a blowjob or taken cock in your pussy before. You gaze up at him, worried, but that only serves to make it better for him, you can see the way his eyes get a little more lidded when he looks at you. "Satori, sir," you murmur.

"Yes, sweetheart?" But he already knows what you're going to say. He strokes himself above you, and his precum drips onto your chest, just barely missing where your sleep shirt is scrunched up under your underarms. You whimper, just a quiet little noise, but of course, Satori hears you. He smiles deviously, and takes his cock and rubs it on your breasts, making a mess of you with his precum. "Darling," Satori groans, oh so condescending. "Looks like you've got a little something on you, what a messy girl. Pathetic." You moan at his words, humiliated, but it feels good. With your panties off and your shirt rucked up, you feel so exposed, and you find that you love this feeling of helplessness. Satori strokes his cock again and scoots up your chest just enough so that the tip of his cock rests just at your lips. "Since you're so disgusting, I think you should clean me up. You've made this mess, after all. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. It's only fair."

Your lips wobble preciously, on the verge of tears as you gaze up at Satori with glistening eyes. "But," you whisper, a gentle frown on your face. "I don't know how to do that, Satori, sir. I've never... never done that before." And Satori, he smiles wider at you, and you can see the way that glee swells within his eyes, and oh, you realise, cunt throbbing, oh. He gets off on this. Satori gets off on the idea that you're innocent. That you're a virgin. He wants to destroy you, corrupt you, ruin you for anyone else. He wants to take something away from you that nobody else can get after. It's his. He, Satori, is the one who ruined you. Somebody else can fuck your tight cunt, can taste you, can feel your lips on them, but he had it first. 

But its okay, you think, because you want Satori to ruin you, too. 

"Good," he whispers, before his cock is pressing more insistently against your lips. Reluctantly, you open your mouth, and you're a little worried, you don't know how to cover your teeth or take him in or anything, but you know that it'll be okay in the end. Satori will teach you. "Good," he repeats, headier, as he slides just the very tip between your lips, and while maybe you are a little inexperienced, you aren't innocent either, and you know what feels good, so you swirl your tongue tentatively around the head, tongue dipping precariously into the slit. Satori groans above you, and you can feel the muscles on his thighs tense under your palms as he resists the urge to completely sheath himself down your throat. "Fuck," Satori curses, and suddenly, his hands are in your hair, gripping hard, and his eyes are glowing. You cry out in a surprised moan, the hold on your hair bringing diamond tears back to the corners of your eyes. "So fucking good, darling, what a good whore for me," he says, and in the same breath, he's shoving his cock a little bit further into your mouth. You choke, just slightly, but recover quickly, and you try your hardest to focus on keeping your teeth covered and making him feel good, eyes squeezed shut. Just slightly, you press your tongue right under the head, and his cock jerks in your mouth, and god, you think you can feel your pussy leaking.

Your body is warm and tingling, even as you choke so gorgeously on Satori's cock. He's not even in all the way, and you're already gagging, your throat just not used to taking something so big inside. Now, he's just let go, pays no mind to your breath or your jaw, lost in the pleasure of the wet heat of your mouth. Even though it's difficult, you try to work your tongue as he fucks your throat, and you can't really swirl it, at least not now with such a low skill level, but you manage to press it against the underside of his cock, the pressure catching just under the head of his cock every time he pulls out, and he groans, grip on your hair tightening. You feel so used and normally you would be disgusted by this, but all you can really think about is how you want this always, how you want to be Satori's, his sweet puppy knelt at his side where you belong and, and you have no idea where this is coming from. It feels like you're intoxicated, the only things that run through your head is the way that Satori's cock smells, his touch, how you want him to split you open forever and ever. 

"Oh," Satori groans, and suddenly you're brought back to the real world. You had floated away at some point, you aren't quite sure when, but you're finally aware of your surroundings again. "Poor baby, got fucked so dumb she forgot what she was doing, sweet thing." It's now that you realise that your jaw had gone completely slack, lips no longer wrapped tightly around his cock. Your tongue just rests dead in your mouth, and you really had just checked out, thinking about how much you wanted Satori. Let him fuck your sloppy mouth, too dumb to even do anything. 

"'M sorry," you gasp when he pulls out. You feel a little bad, but it seems like he liked it. Liked that you couldn't even think and just let him do whatever he wanted. But you don't mind. Satori can do whatever he wants to you whenever he wants. Your saliva drips from his cock onto you breasts, and Satori looks feral on top of you.

"Its okay, darling," Satori coos, taking your breasts in his hands and squeezing, sucking in a breath at the way they glisten with all the spit and precum smeared on your skin. "I already know what you need. I can smell it on you. Your poor cunny is absolutely dripping for my cock, and I know that you want it too, don't you?" You cry out and nod, because you do. You need it so bad. 

"Please," you whisper, and you sound so desperate and wrecked that you almost didn't recognise your own voice. "Satori, sir, please. Need it so bad, so bad." You start to cry, then, and your cunt is throbbing and you want to be filled so badly, all of these feelings are so overwhelming. Satori hushes you with his mouth, using his tongue to spread your lips apart. He pulls away and slides off of you to grip your thighs and press them as far as he can towards your chest. 

"Okay, darling," Satori drawls, a feral grin showing off his sharp teeth. "Gonna ruin you real good," He moves forward, taking one hand off of your thigh to line himself up with you fluttering cunt. Your thighs shake in anticipation, you've never had anything like this inside of you before, and you're so scared but also incredibly excited. And you can feel it, too, when the head of Satori's cock presses against your hole. Your pussy throbs, and it's right there and you can feel it. So so close to having his cock inside of you, you squirm, moving your hips to try and work the head in some more, just a little bit, anything! Satori laughs at your efforts. 

 Satori coos at you. "That's cute, sweetheart, wanna be filled so badly? Take it then." He pushes himself all the way in.

You cry out, and it fucking burns, but his head hits just above your cervix so mind-numbingly that you don't even care, body seizing in an addictive mixture of pain and pleasure and you can hear yourself gasping, but you can't feel yourself breathe. Satori curses above you, leaning into his thrust to fill himself as deep inside you as possible. It's almost like you can feel him in your stomach, he's so big and pressing so deep, you feel much more full than any vibrator could ever grant you. It's so good, even more so when Satori pulls back out and slams himself inside once again, leaving you to cream delicately all over his cock.

"Fuck," Satori groans, his grip tightening on the flesh of your thighs as you flutter around him. You sob, reaching up to grab at him, needing something, anything to ground you. Taking your left hand in his, Satori presses your arm above your head, and even though your other hand is gripping hard on his shoulder, you feel so helpless. Your second orgasm did absolutely nothing to help with the heat in your stomach and with the way that Satori continues to fuck your tight heat has you bracing yourself for your next orgasm.

"Fuck, Darling," Satori curses again, pulling out to carelessly flip you over onto your stomach. One hand presses between your shoulder blades to keep your upper body flush with the mattress, and the other grabs your hips and settles you on your knees. A part of you must have forgotten what he is, and you were shocked with the way he just lifted you like you were nothing, but his roughness only led to arousal, and you sob as he pounds you into the mattress. "Cute, sweetheart," Satori coos, hand sliding from your back to grip your hair and pull. You moan loudly, and you've never felt a feeling of pain and pleasure like this before, and you think that it's something you may become addicted to. "Love being manhandled like this, huh? Who's gonna think you're innocent now, hmm? Such a dirty girl, now, getting off to being pushed around and bruised. Ruined for anybody else." Satori leans down, then, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "This is all mine, isn't it, love?"

"Yeah," you respond, breathless with the way that Satori thrusts into you, "yes, Satori, sir. All yours," It's difficult to speak and your words stutter and slur, between the drool dripping down your chin and how Satori is fucking you mindless, but you hope it gets the point across. You don't know. You can't really think. Satori nips at your earlobe and growls into your ear.

"Good." And then he pulls your hair so hard you have to bring your back flush with his chest, and his other hand wraps deliciously around your throat as he holds you up against him. Before, you could never understand how anyone would like to be treated so roughly during sex, the thought of being choked was terrifying to you, but here you are now, eyes fluttering delicately as you can hardly breathe from the hand on your throat and Satori's hips. It feels so fucking good, and you don't think anyone else could ever make you feel this way. You feel drunk on Satori's existence, and your cunt squeezes so nicely around him at that. 

"Please," you beg, just barely able to get your words out. That feeling is there again, and you know that you're close, but you want Satori to come first. "Please," you repeat, just as broken as before. You try to move your hips yourself, just a little, but Satori only laughs.

"Sweet thing, trying so hard, but you've been pounded too stupid for that, hmm darling? Can't even speak, poor girl." He speaks so highly, but you can tell that he's close too, with the way that his hips stutter, and he sounds a little breathless himself. You only squeeze harder around him, half on purpose and half because the way he speaks to you is so addicting. His groans are deep and they're getting a little feral, and it's so fucking hot, his nails dig into your skin and it hurts so good, his thrusts become so erratic and he's louder and growling and, and-

Warm liquid spurts into your cunt and his cock pulses inside of you and that, that, sends you over the edge, and you cream over his cock once again as he comes inside of you.

Satori lets go of you, gently placing you face down on the bed, and finally, you can breathe again. Your chest is heaving as you lie there, and when he slowly pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you. Whining, you squirm at the feeling, mind too hazy to do anything about it. "Sweetheart," Satori murmurs, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you. "I'll run a bath to clean you up. Feeling okay?" You only whine again, toes curling in embarrassment. That was so... you were so... dirty. But Satori only laughs softly at you, nothing close to the degrading laugh you heard earlier. 

"No worries, darling, I'll take care of you."

[writerman]

hi my man i got a prompt request for u if thats ok :) : modern au thranduil is gay and cant drive also he cant do math,,, we need stupid twink representation ;))))))

Thank you for this I need to write something light-hearted after my last prompt! I just want to let you know that I also cannot do maths and had to google the answer to this insanely easy maths problem. Also I can’t drive… because I don’t have a license.

So yah… read into that what you will!

This accidentally ended up being 2k+ words when it was meant to be shorter. Whoops!

---------

Tires screech followed by a crunch of metal colliding with metal.

A beat of silence before Bard cursed out loud from inside his car.

He'd been rear-ended and it sounded pretty bad, felt it too from the whiplash he was now suffering from being shoved forward by the impact.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bard took a deep breath before removing his seat belt and climbing out of the car to speak with the other motorist.

Time slowed down for a moment as the most beautiful tall blond creature stepped out of their silver BMW and headed towards Bard looking almost sheepish at the damage to the rear bumper and tail lights.

Don't forgive him just because he's hot! Bard, don't forgive him just because he's hot. Just… don't do it. Boy, don't do it! His brain seemed to have sense but the brunet couldn't trust his mouth so remained silent as the blond approached still looking entirely horrified that he had caused such an incident.

"I'm so sorry…" The blond began, he was well-spoken and seemed genuine in his apology, though Bard wasn't sure he was taking in anything he said.

Clearing his throat Bard looked between his car and the others and sighed as though reluctant to say what he was going to propose to the other.

"I wasn't paying attention at all, and yes, I am well aware that I'm obviously a bad driver for that sole reason, but if you'd be so kind as to hear me out on this," He flipped his long blond hair over his shoulder as he spoke and Bard felt any hope for the situation slowly deflate and dissolve, he was just too in awe of the creature stood before him in a form-fitting grey suit and lavender shirt.... "Let's forget insurance companies and let me pay you for the damage outside of all that legal stuff, yes?"

Was he one of those millionaires that didn't seem bothered by any bill under 10,000?!

It was then that Bard realised the blond probably didn't have insurance. Out of frustration he rubbed at his brow his eyes closed hoping some semblance of sense could be gleaned from the man before him.

Though, really keeping the insurance companies out of this wasn't a bad idea. It could work out assuming this man gave him legitimate contact details.

"My name is Thranduil by the way. Let me… give you my number." He fumbled in his jacket pocket for something before eventually pulling out a phone, Bard followed suit and did the same, they exchanged contact info and Bard confirmed that once he had a price for the repairs he would call or text the blond.

He received a bright smile at this before Thranduil demurely said, "You know, if we hadn't met in such embarrassing circumstances I would have asked you out for a drink."

For a split second Bard was catapulted into a state of shock and he very nearly suggested they should do so anyway but he remembered he was meant to be picking the kids up from his ex-wife's apartment and all his sense and logic came flooding back.

You can't forgive him because he's hot, Bard! This is your brain speaking and you should really REALLY listen.

That was the end of that and Bard dismissed what Thranduil had said with an uneasy laugh before they parted ways.

When he finally made it to Mari's apartment he had to take a seat and explain what happened, and he was completely honest about it all. Even when he considered letting the handsome stranger take him out.

"Oh wow, you've had quite the afternoon then. Wish hot guys would crash into the back of me… wait… no, but still as Sigrid would say 'Big Mood'.

No idea if I'm even using that right." She dismissed her own words by giving a lacklustre flourish of her free hand, the other holding a take out coffee cup.

"He sounds like your type Bard, ya know, hot... and it wouldn't kill you to get out there and date even if he IS a dangerous driver. No one is perfect." Mari shrugged before taking a sip of her coffee. She seemed more understanding of the situation than he but it wasn't like her car had been banged up.

"Yeah… probably not gonna happen. He likely wanted to try and get out of paying for my car. Uh... where are the kids?"

"Not everyone is a skeevy loser trying to rob you, Bard. Kids are still at their swimming class, Jack will be home with them soon." Jack was Mari's husband, they met in Seattle while Mari was away on business, he was an all-round great guy and loved the kids. Bard had no problems with him. They’d shared a few beers and sometimes they talked sports, though Bard generally didn't have much to say on college football because they were in England and Jack hadn't realised that most people didn't care about American sports all that much.

"I suppose I'll hang around until they're back then. Oh… actually, I'll take the car to the garage and see if I can get a quote on how much the repairs will be."

Mari waved him off and he left without another word.

All in all the repairs wouldn't cost all that much. The bumper was heavily scratched and dented but some buffing and a paint job would fix that and the lights were easily replaced. It wouldn't be too expensive and Bard wondered if he should just forget about asking Thranduil to pay for it.

Instantly his brain whirred into gear.

Don't forgive him because he's hot!!!! He did this so he should pay! Don't let the hot man win!

Pulling out his phone Bard composed a text explaining the price of the repairs and that he'd be happy if he just gave him 60% of the bill.

Right away he received a reply.

[Guy That Wrecked My Car] No problem. But what is 60% of £300?

[Guy That Wrecked My Car] It's ok I'll Google it or something.

He's a dumbass that can't drive and can't do math… and, dammit, you think he's hot, Bard. Resist asking him out. RESIST.

[Guy That Wrecked My Car] Maths is so hard. I'm a busy man I don't have time to do this. Can't I just pay the whole £300 and you can buy me a drink or something and we can call it even?

For awhile Bard just blinked down at his phone, this man was clearly adamant in trying to take him out. Still, he knew he had to refuse…

Didn't he?

The phone began to ring and in his surprise Bard almost dropped the device, regaining his grip on it he answered the phone to hear the smooth voice of Thranduil floating through the speaker.

"Didn't you receive my message?"

"Yeah, sure did."

"Well?"

"Just pay me £180 and we're fine."

"What an odd figure to pull out of thin air." Came the annoyed response, Bard nearly hung up.

"Ah, sure, don't know why I even said that." Bard's reply drier than the desert but it went right over Thranduil's head who just huffed again down the phone.

"Well, let's meet up and I'll pay you. I assume cash is alright?"

Man, he sounded like a damn snob on the phone, much less apologetic than earlier and not as peppy as he was in his texts.

Something didn't seem right but Bard didn't really know this man well enough to confirm why so he shrugged it off and agreed on a time and gave him the address of the garage before disconnecting the call.

Weird guy…

When Thranduil showed up he was in an entirely different car than the one involved in the crash, and it took Bard a moment to realise, that in his haste to fix his own car, he hadn’t checked if the blond was ok or if his car had survived.

As he was approached by the beauty it was Bard’s turn to offer a slightly apologetic smile in greeting but it only caused the blond’s brows to knit together in confusion at the sudden tender gesture.

“I didn’t get to ask if you were alright earlier, you might have crashed into me but you still could have been injured on impact… I’m sorry that I didn’t check you or your car.” There was silence between them and for a second Bard believed that his statement may have been completely ignored until a dark pink blush bloomed over Thranduil’s cheeks and he looked away for a moment mumbling that he was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

“See, you say that but you’re in a different car and maybe you’re good at hiding your pain. I would feel better if you absolutely told me the truth. Are you ok?” He tried to offer what he believed to be a gentle smile as Thranduil looked back to him.

“My car was scratched but it remains in one piece and only requires paint to fix it. I am in good health, nothing hurt but my pride… I suppose.”

“Can’t handle crashing into someone and having to deal with it like an adult?” Bard joked he had hoped to coax a smile out of the blond but so far he remained stoic and he wondered if Thranduil had gotten into some trouble for the crash or was just having a really bad day that continued after their incident.

Either way, it didn’t sit well with Bard and he had no idea why.

It shouldn’t really matter to him if Thranduil was in good spirits or not, he was only really there to pay for the damage he had caused by being reckless while driving, whatever he had been doing to cause him to crash into a parked car… it must have been bloody well interesting.

“Strangely, not the reason for my bruised ego, I assure you.”

“It really should be why you’re so embarrassed, to be honest,” Bard muttered quietly as he accepted the cash and scowled when he counted out £300 rather than the agreed 60%- though, truthfully, Thranduil had not agreed to anything but to pay him.

“Do you really not know what 60% of £300 is?” He was counting the bills as he spoke but when he looked up he saw a faint blush creeping over the blond’s pale skin again and he guessed that maths really wasn’t this man’s strong point.

“Calculators were invented for a reason, you know.” Was all Thranduil said and Bard bit back a chuckle though he couldn’t quite hide his smile. Regardless of the way he spoke this man was quite adorable and he had to admit to his credit Thranduil did show up and pay the full amount, most people would have given fake details.

“You really don’t have to pay the full thing.”

“Let me do this, it’s bad enough you won’t let me take you out!” The blond fumed almost pouting like a petulant child over the fact he couldn’t persuade Bard to go out for a drink.

In his defence, he barely knew the guy but then again, getting a drink with him would mean talking and he would get to know him if they met up again. Did- did Thranduil was to take him out on a date that badly?

It wasn’t like Bard hadn’t been struggling to resist asking him out, he had been rendered speechless the second he saw him and even though they had spent a measly 15 minutes together in their entire lives… he did find him sweet.

Perhaps there would be no harm in grabbing coffee with him or a drink maybe even dinner?

Offering Thranduil a lopsided grin he threw his hands up as a gesture of ‘what the hell!’.

“Sure, let’s go out sometime. Coffee, dinner, whatever you want. You have my number let’s talk soon.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the garage leaving a dazed Thranduil stood by his car brimming with excitement.

Mari was probably right.

Not everyone is a skeevy loser trying to rob you.

Sometimes they’re beautiful creatures who can’t drive and can’t do math who want to date you…

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

just gonna rant about my health issues to no one in particular for a bit under the cut sooo

im just so fucking tired of being sick all the time like. its been almost 2 years now of actively Going To Doctors And Having Tests Done And Trying To Get A Diagnosis and fucking!!! nothing works!!! and i only have until the end of this coming school year to get it figured out before my insurance runs out otherwise im just fucked!!! because im sure as hell not gonna be able to afford a fucking mri every six months making 10 bucks an hour at some retail shithole but so far ive seen SIX different fucking doctors (not counting 2 ER visits) because they all just keep shuffling me back and forth like “idk maybe have someone else deal with this? weird lol” or like “have you considered that maybe you might have anxiety :) you seem stressed :)” 

like yeah its a fucking stressful situation getting progressively fucking sicker for two goddamn years wasting thousands of dollars and reaching the end of a fucking ticking clock because almost every doctor ive seen is an incompetent jackass who does NOTHING but waste my time and money and then fucking condescend to me about anxiety like!!! yeah i probably DO have anxiety and depression and autism and what the fuck ever else but this isnt THAT 

and the literal ONE TIME i had ANY treatment that worked AT ALL helping with my eye spasms (literally One of Many Symptoms that i deal with on a fucking daily basis that still manages to completely fuck up my life) is something i cant take anymore because it damaged my fucking eyes!!! possibly permanently!!! i already HAD issues wtih light sensitivity that this medicine made WAYYY fucking worse and guess whats one of the WORST things at setting off my eye spasms??? anything to do with fucking light so YEAH thANKS for that @ the opthalmologist who had me take those damn eye drops for two months straight, which other neuro opthalmologist said was bullshit when i saw her again, not that im letting HER off the hook either since she REFERRED me to that incompetent bitch in the first place and then had NO solution other than “hm well you definitely shouldnt take that medicine again, but theres literally No Other Treatment, maybe blow another $400 in a few months to come see me again so i can continue to Not Help You In Any Way”

and its getting wORSE ALL THE TIME!!! and the best thing doctors can think of is “hm well maybe wait a bit to see if it gets worse? and maybe then we’ll know what it is?” well its getting worse!!!! but they still dont seem to know what it is!!! like at first it was just my vision going out of focus for a few seconds at a time, then it was a few minutes, then i was having visual distortion (or maybe hallucinations? who knows! certainly not any of the fucking doctors ive seen!), then awful fucking eye strain headaches, then spasms in my neck, then my jaw, then my arms, then my legs, now all fucking over, and now i get sick and dizzy just by moving my HEAD too far or too suddenly and like at work earlier today i was just stumbling around for two hours bc there was too much pressure in my head and everything felt tilted and i was just grabbing at every surface trying not to fall with my head like on my shoulder bc keeping my neck straight was too fucking hard and i swear to fuckign god a couple nights ago there was this weird buzzing on the side of my face??? and like it felt like my mouth was moving slower than it should??? but i dont even KNOW if thats a Real SymptomTM or if i was just freaked out and tired and imagining things or if i really am just getting to be a paranoid delusional nutcase about my health because every little thing terrifies me at this point, like ive been coughing for a couple weeks and instead of being like “oh its a bad cold” im like “maybe now my immune systems fucked up too maybe this is A New Symptom” i literally cant tell anymore i have no fucking idea 

and i dont WANT to think about all this All The Fucking Time but i do!!!!! i literally HAVE to bc it affects my life in every fucking possible way and i cant escape it like even rn the light from the fuckign computer is hurting my eyes and i cant even see what im typing half the time bc my eyes keep going out of focus and my teeth keep chattering and my head hurts or ill go to get a drink of water but then just Stand there for a few minutes bc i dont trust myself to hold a cup full of water and not spill it bc im having spasms or ill have to wear sunglasses at the dinner table bc my fucking idiot asshole dad got the BRIGHTEST possible lightbulbs for the dining room and i physically cant stand them 

or like im already dreading having to explain all this shit to my professors this semester about how like “oh so i probably wont be able to keep up with daily readings, especialyl not if theyre on physical paper and i cant scale up the text because my eyes just spontaneously stop working and i cant read..... and ill need a computer to take notes, i can Usually hold a pencil but one time i had a spasm in class and flung it across the room and it was super embarrassing and i ltierally skipped that class for weeks because of it so id really rather not deal with that again.... and even though im a fuckign AMAZING public speaker like, state champion debate level public speaking, ill still probably get super fucking nervous and suck at any kind of in class presentation bc ill just be thinking about my spasms the whole time and wont be able to focus....... and ill have to wear sunglasses all the time too so hopefully thats not an issue........ and also ill probably miss a lot of class bc whether or not i can handle walking half a mile Varies Wildly from day to day and also i have a lot of doctors appointments and sometimes im on medicine that completely ruins my sleep schedule so you know... looking forward to a great semester, hope i dont completely fail your class” 

and i have fuckign work tomorrow where ill have to deal with trying to pretend like even the most minor tasks arent painful and difficult and deal with awful btichy entitled customers complaining that im not SMILEY enough for you like the motherfucker who asked me how i was and i said fine and he was like “jUuUUuuuST fINE” like shut the everlasting FUCK UP with that ive met my obligation leave me ALONE my day isnt FINE im in awful pain and i HATE you and everyone like you or ill have to deal with my coworkers giving me weird looks while im having spasms or outright MOCKING me for them like the asshole that called me TWITCH (and a whore, but thats Another Fucking Story) or just not knowing how to deal and making bad taste jokes like when my teeth are chattering bc I Physically Cant Make It Stop like “haha are you chewing an invisible piece of gum lol” like no bitch im a neurological nightmare and my brain doesnt work and im Barely Holding Together would you PLEASE shut the fuck up 

and most of the time i just feel like everyone thinks im a fucking freak like even just sitting in the waiting room to see the neurologist or opthalmologist or whatever and everyone else there is Old and im the only person even remotely close to my age there and even the doctors dont seem to take me that seriously bc of it like “oh shes young, cant be that bad, all these old people out here are gonna die like tomorrow so why worry about this girl, its probably just anxiety from being on her period or having a test to study for lol” like straight up when the movement disorder neurologist was examining me she was like “im not used to seeing anyone this young or healthy’ and i know she meant it relatively speaking but like!!! clearly im NOT healthy or i wouldnt BE here like obviously something is wrong with me and its ruining my life and its serious and id like it fixed thanks!!!!! 

and i feel like No One Gets It like, obviously there are people wayyyy sicker than i am who suffer a lot more or people in similar situations but like. i dont Personally Know someone like that i can just talk to and like, of course i have friends who can Listen but.................................. theres a difference from being able to listen and being able to actually Understand and sometimes you just cant Get It unless youve gone through it like i really dont think ANYONE in my life has any idea how serious this is or how much it affects me and i know i cant expect everyone to just Always Think Of My IssuesTM but little things!!! like maybe NOT having the brighest possible lightbulbs in the dining room!!!! my brother NOT having his birthday party at dave and busters, which i had TONS of spasms at last time i went (and im even worse now!) AND the staff gave me shit about wearing sunglasses so now im nervous about That too or just! idk! people respecting and listening to me when i tell them that i Cant Do Something or that Doing That Thing Hurts and not just brushing me off or telling me im overreacting and then getting all shocked pikachu face when their dumbassery actually physically HURTS me and i get pissed with them for it!!!!

i dont think anyone gets how much it scares me all the time or how its Always on my mind and i literally cant think about anything else like. this could be the rest of my life. this could end my life. i dont know what i have. i might get diagnosed in the next month and have it completely cured, i might get a diagnosis and still be sick forever, i might not find out until its too late and i have LITERALLY NO FUCKING IDEA WHICH ONE!!!! ITS GREAT!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ghostsoapgirl]

Tall Broody & Handsome

This was already posted but I deleted it so I am putting it back up.

tagging my baron girls @antidiva @kittysilver86 @thegloriousdisaster @theneverendingthirst @baron-thirst-club @darktammy @queenofthearchitect i cant remember the other URLs

Baron Corbin/OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.3k

Not Beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

When she arrived at the hotel after Raw, she was alone. She had made a wrong turn leaving the last town and it took her almost an hour out of the way. She assumed everyone had arrived and went to bed already. That was just fine with her, meant she could check in and go straight to her room without being stopped. She rang the bell at the receptions table, her bag on her shoulder feeling heavier by the second. A smiling woman seemed to appear out of nowhere, and Sam wondered how the hell someone was so cheery at three in the morning. “I have a reservation,” she explained to the woman. She gave her full name and waited while the woman looked up the information on her computer. Her name tag read Mary she realized.  Mary frowned, clicking and scrolling through several pages before looking up again. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a reservation under that name.” She sighed, because that would be her luck? “What do you mean? I booked the room a week ago!” She tried keeping the anger from her voice but she was just too tired. “Our computer system crashed last week and it must have lost your reservation,” Mary answered calmly. “Do you have any more rooms available?” Mary began scrolling again before she frowned, obviously not having good news. “We seem to be booked for the night.” “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do then,” she snapped, her exhaustion getting the better of her. “I’m not calling a hundred other hotels to try to find a room. I booked this a week ago, mind telling me what happened?” “ I’m sorry, the computers keep track of the reservations. I can try and call,” Mary began to offer something but she held her hand up, already pulling her phone from her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts, wondering who she could call to bunk with. Most people were probably already asleep and she wasn’t exactly close to anyone on the roster except a few. She hovered her finger over Baron Corbin. They’d been friends for a few months, but they’d known each other since her debut almost six months ago. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he would answer, because she’d bet he was still awake. It was her feelings stopping her from pressing dial.

She’d had a crush on him since she met him during her time in NXT. He moved up to the main roster a month later and it took her another two years to make the jump. Their shared love of tattoos eventually turned into an actual friendship, but the crush she had on him years ago came back in full force as well. She decided she didn’t have much choice, she just hoped she didn’t make him mad. She hit dial and pressed the phone to her ear. He answered on the second ring, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay?” “Other than not having a room, I’m fine.” She tried keeping the obvious anger from her voice but probably failed. “We all got here an hour ago, what happened?” He sounded like he’d been sleeping, his voice deeper and more gravelly than normal. Her heart fluttered at the sound but she told it to knock it off. “Can I bunk with you?” He answered yes before she even had to explain what happened. “Thanks, I’ll explain when I get up there.” He gave her his room number before he hung up. She rode the elevator in silence, thankful there was no stupid music playing. She was already exhausted and frustrated, the last thing she needed was elevator music. When the elevator stopped, she stepped off, turning towards the direction of Baron’s room. He was standing outside the door, his foot keeping it propped open. She smiled when he shoved the door open for her, following her into the room. She tossed her bag on the floor and that’s when she noticed it. Only one bed, and it wasn’t a king or a queen either. Just a full size bed, meaning she would have to sleep on a cot or sleep really close to Baron. Great. She sat on the end of the bed, flopping backwards so that she was lying down. “I’ll call for a cot, since you didn’t get a queen like you normally do.” He laughed and it was music to her ears, or it would have been if it wasn’t at her expense. “I called when we got off the phone. They’re out.” He sat down next to her, his voice amused. “Apparently they had a convention in town too.” She tried not to sigh, but the look Baron shot her showed she didn’t succeed. “I’m not that hard to share a bed with ya know.” “It’s not that,” she sighed again, sitting up and turning to face him. His hair was tied back in a bun, still wet from the shower she assumed he had taken. She loved when he wore his hair in a bun but she also loved it when he allowed it to lay loose on his shoulders, which outside of a match was very rare. “I already feel like such a burden all because this stupid hotel’s computers couldn’t keep their bookings straight.” “You’re not a burden.” His face was serious for a second, his voice stern, before he smiled. He pointed towards the bathroom, “I already showered so it’s all yours. When you get out, we’ll figure out how to sleep so you’re comfortable.” She said nothing as she grabbed her bag and carried it to the bathroom. What did he mean, so she’s comfortable? It was his room, she’d sleep on the floor if he wanted, if it meant she didn’t have to call around to find another room. She started the shower as she stripped her clothes. She tested the water, deeming it acceptable before stepping in. Showering quickly, she almost regretted not taking the time to enjoy the hot water but she was too tired. She dried off quickly before digging through her bag, trying to find what she packed to sleep in. When all she found were her tiny sleep shorts and a tank top, she groaned in frustration.   “I didn’t pack to share a room with tall, broody and handsome,” she spoke aloud to herself. “I packed to sleep comfortable, and alone.” She continued to grumble as she got dressed, things like “I hope he doesn’t sleep shirtless” and “goddamn stupid hair and his stupid perfect face”. When she was finally dressed, she packed up her old clothes before flinging the bag over her shoulder. She thought she heard shuffling from outside the door but brushed it off, thinking her brain was overworking itself from exhaustion. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she tossed her bag towards the end of the bed before stopping and looking at Baron. He was sitting against the headboard, a smile on his face. That’s when she noticed he had let his hair out of the bun as well and it was hanging loosely around his shoulders. He was also shirtless, and damn him. She was almost ninety percent sure she had kept her thoughts to herself earlier, but there was Baron, sitting like something out of one of her greatest fantasies. She fumbled for her words for a second before decidedly looking anywhere but Baron and tried again. “I can sleep on the floor, just need a few blankets and a pillow.” She could feel Baron’s eyes on her and she had to fight the urge to cover herself. Instead, while she waited for him to answer, she focused on anywhere except him, not even allowing herself a passing glance. She heard rustling on the bed, before a hand grabbed her wrist gently, turning her around. His chest was directly in her line of site and it took all of her willpower not to stare. She looked up, meeting his dark eyes, a glint in them she’d never seen before. “Tall, broody and handsome?” The squeal that left her throat was almost as embarrassing as the situation she was in. “My hair is stupid and I think you said something about my face too?” She was now looking at the ground, her eyes focused on a spot in the carpet. She prayed the ground would open up and swallow her, saving her from this conversation. “You weren’t supposed to hear any of that,” she whispered, afraid if she talked any louder she would squeal again. “You sounded like you got hurt, I got up to check on you. I swear I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” His voice was soft, calming even, but calm was so far away from what she was feeling.  She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she wasn’t mad but his hand was still on her wrist and she was honestly just too embarrassed to continue talking. “What if I told you I’m glad you feel that way? That I might feel that way about you, just different words.” Now she was sure she was dreaming because there was no way Baron Freaking Corbin just said that. “I’ve kinda had my eye on you for a while. When we became friends, I accepted that was all it was going to be. And then you gotta go and say things like that, when you’re talking to yourself, instead of just telling me?” “How,” she tried to speak but her voice was still a little high. She swallowed and cleared her throat before trying again. “So this,” she gestured to his hair and his very naked torso, “is your way of telling me you feel the same way?” He laughed then and she felt herself relax. “Okay, it wasn’t the best plan. I was actually hoping to let you squirm a little more but you were so embarrassed, I had to put you out of your misery.” She finally looked up at him again and was blinded by his smile. Jeez, the man was beautiful but when he smiled it was on a whole other level. “You should smile more,” she heard herself say. “Maybe you should give me a reason to smile more,” was Baron’s response and she could hear the challenge in his voice. She stared at him, trying to decide her next move when Baron beat her to it. He bent down, wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting her from the ground. Afraid of falling, she reacted quickly, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep herself from falling. Baron turned suddenly, pressing her back against the wall and that’s when she felt it. He was hard already, pressing against her most sensitive area. “Oh,” was all she managed to say. He responded with a smirk and she had to fight the urge to grind down against him. He bent down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, and she opened her mouth to him instantly.  A moan escaped her throat when their tongues touched, Baron taking full advantage of her open mouth. He pressed her harder against the wall, allowing him use of his hands. One hand coming up to cup her cheek, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, while the other stroked the skin of her stomach underneath her tank top. She pulled away, her head dizzy and entire body humming with electricity. “As much as I like where this is going,” she tried, but Baron began peppering kisses down her throat, stopping to nibble her collarbone before sucking a mark into her pale skin. She dug her nails into the skin of his shoulders, her back arching trying to keep his mouth in place. He pulled away and admired his work, smiling before kissing her again. “As I was trying to say,” she breathed out, “as much as I’m enjoying this, I’d rather not have my first time against a wall.” When Baron gaped at her, eyes wide in shock, she realized just what she had let slip. Before she could explain, he turned and sat her on the bed, kneeling in front of her. “I didn’t know,” his voice was strained, “I just manhandled you.” He shifted his weight, not pressing her as hard into the wall now. “It’s okay,” she said through a smile, “it’s not like it’s something I talk about with just anyone. Just waiting for the right person I guess.” She watched as he processed her words before he smiled. He turned, setting her down on the bed before kneeling in between them, their eyes level like this. “And you think that’s me?” She just nodded, placing a kiss to his nose before grabbing his hand and scooting up the bed, dragging him with her. He followed easily, resting his back against the headboard before taking her thin waist in his hands, picking her up and setting her down on his lap. “How about,” he started, but stopped to pepper her face with soft kisses, before pulling back and continuing “we just sit like this for tonight? I’m perfectly content with just kissing and looking at you.” She smiled, before leaning down and kissing his lips again, the first one she’d initiated since this started. Her heart was racing and his words meant more to her than he would ever know. She pulled back to find Baron smiling just as wide. “by the way,” she spoke, her voice holding a mischievous glint, “I kinda like the manhandling.” The way Baron looked at her then, she knew she had done it. He flipped them over so that she was pinned underneath his large frame, before kissing her breathless again. She didn’t think she’d be getting much sleep tonight, but honestly, she was okay with that.

[icecreamkink]

so im watching ice princess bc. brain empty. it has been like legit 15 years since i watched it! this was the very first ice skating thing i have ever watched and i was OBSESSED with it when we rented it in vhs. i wouldnt get Actually Into figure skating until sochi but this movie was the reason i was gliding around in socks on the floor and started watching winter olympics as child

it starts w this song that sounds like a ripoff of this OTHER early 00's girl movie song that i cannot remember (or prob never learned lol) the lyrics to and its driving me crazyyy

the ptbr version is called 'sonhos no gelo' aka dreams on ice and i personally think its a better name than ice princess

then again dreams on ice is such a ice show name so maybe thats why they chose not to lol

the music that is playing when hayden panettiere (??) first talks to georgina from gg is. . . weirdly soft porn-y. harold-

OMG WHO IS THE GENERIC "HOT" JOCK. WHERE DO I KNOW HIM FROM

i feel like sasha cohen being who makes georgina go 'omg. moving on ice requires physics!!!and thus Plot' would generate Some Type of dumb discourse today. i cant explain it i just feel it

that tv is very very old .

im so happy that joan cusak is playing an annoying judgy feminist she looks like shes loving it as she should

color coded skaters!

kim cattrall as a scary retired Did She Break A Competitors Leg Did She Not Guess! coach mom named tina is also what she Should be doing

i remember she and joan cusak fight ?by the end? so we are looking forward to That

is this another 'give the girl that the mc has chemistry with a brother for no homo reasons' example; never rewatch your heroes

juniors faking landing quads in 2005? sounds kinda precocious but what do i know

movies abt artistic sports usually Highly overestimate how nice the training outifts are but caseys a woman of the people

georgina wearing kim cattralls old outfit and the yoiness of it all. idk how to feel abt that. blueprint

honestly if my mom hated fs costumes and made me wear That i would definetely rebel

ok listen. i dont Really Know, and i guess the point is that as a Physics Person with Talent she like breaks the barriers or something but . . 'tucking ur arms in' 'pushing with your toepick' are pretty standard things people are conscious of and i dont think theyd make a girl whos been training for a couple months land a double ? would she even have the muscles for that . i mean OK ITS A DISNEY MOVIE IK i Know IM JUST. ok ok

whys georginas token best friend so likeable. get it ann

teddy, the no homo zamboni driver

joan cusack and kim cattralls passive agressive interactions!!!!!!!! ty for my life

Unlikely Complex Computer Program Check

jen! im not dressed for a party! sigh. shake it. ??? eye roll your hair >>>>>

GENERIC HOT JOCK IS SHANE OMEN OMGGGG I KNEW I KNEW HIM

hey! you get paid to be a has been on ice ok. and its Awesome. and its probably more fun than competing all things considered lbr

no but like, its not like georgina couldnt go to college during or after a skating career..... plenty of athletes do that.....

considering she could retire circa 2015, she could even become a youtuber on TOP and capitalize on yuri on ice. joan cusack has no eye for the future smh

but making her mom not simply a controlling academic but instead a working professor regretting probable wasted potential was a smart choice

aw cds !!

'youllbe be worth even more when you win' damn dont hold back tiffanys dad

i feel seen with the way the parents are so obnoxious in this movie

i mean i feel seen bc i had to deal w ballet parents not that i am a obnoxious parent myself, i. i dont have kids

i wish i could say omg thats so dumb as if athletes are always at each others throats like that but uh. on junior level? it happens

hayden panehfd and georgina ending up together would have been so cute sigh

only the girls/women are important in this movie and im into this. rip teddy

zoey bloch sure can rock

i wish i knew how to hidroblade :( or. skate. at all; lmao

nikkis regionals costume was very cute , prize for the jumping bean!! . eh shrimp

so who choreographed georginas programs? tina? did she do it herself? is that why they look kinda meh. why didnt they show it

ok but like. needing to break in brand new shoes is . is it not . common knowledge. :for anything. ?

LIKE im not defending the sabotaging of a teenager but. as a Smart Person who Knows Physics and has been training in a high impact sport and STUDYING IT, did it rly not occur to her that like. competing in brand new, though skates might be a Bad Idea? she figured out how to land a triple in months but not that performing on brand new shoes sounds kinda stupid??

ooo~~ its just like sarajevo~~

JOAN CUSAK AND KIM CATTRALL THROWING IT DOWN YES

the dramatic fight makes it kinda inescapable that they act circles around the kids but oh well

why didnt kim cattrall push teddy to be a figure skater too. like double the odds of a success, seems kinda obvious

its noT MY DREAM MOM. ITS YOURS

*hayden panerimo, voice cracking* anD I WANT *kim cattrall*okay okay thats enough -

drama in the hallwayyy

georgina answering "why are u passionate about harvard" with essentially "im not" kinda iconic ngl

its noT MY DREAM MOM. ITS YOURS²

whys she not wearing the new skates. she already has them now, and for free too

i have never seen an actual frozen lake in my life but are those cracks supposed to be like that

yes it IS a beautiful sport casey tell em !!

kim cattrall was a such a big brain choice. who else would sell 'im not gonna apologize for sabotaging you and taking advantage of ur stupidity" to a 16 year old in a disney movie

"i dont have to like or trust my coach "kjasdkfn casey,,,,, sweetie. i mean eteris girls do win trophies back to back so I Guess In A Way but also.,,,,,, sweetie-

i know that she meant it in a general way, but the Possibility of kim cattrall and joan cusack going to high school together and somethin something Watching and Envying the pretty prom queen/world champion, something being tired of performing feminity something something short skirts something harsh realities of academia and pro sports careers / anywhere for women something. something something.

michelle kwan!! i did not remember her in this

forget georgina and hayden panettone, otp is hayden / ann . hann!! tutor trope!!!!

omg does joan cusack teach at a community college or a encceja type of thing . bitter moms plot thickens

zoey skated to toxic! queen.

i watched this movie so many times in the days i had it rented that i actually still remember a lot of the final programs choreos lmao

skate w the heart uwu

costume prettye

ah!! i used to try to copy the programsss thats why i know the moves LMAO the memories ,,, keep coming back to me

whats this gala lighting all of a sudden???

hann keeps on winning!! look at that hug!they left together! arms linked!!!!!!!

centering the mom daughter relationships is a :'''') for me

we stan nikki

dramedy centering on joan cusack and kim cattrall navigating georginas career

FEEL THE RAIN ON

YOUR

SKIN

NO ONE ELSE CAN FEEL IT FOR YOUU

this was nice :') its confirmed ive had good taste since toddler age 🤷

[where-the-weary-rest]

So i’ve been having massive dmc/dietrich feels so you all get a dump of what the guy is dealing with once he finally meets dante long after the rebellion, this is post dmc4 and i feel like dante as he gets older and has been learning will on occasion calm down and use his brains, we know hes not dumb, he just cant be assed. here hes realized that his usual strategies might not work, also its under the cut cause its kind of a lot and i dont wanna horde space on peoples dashes

“Well she asked that I take you too him. You wanted to meet the one who knew what was left out of the stories. I can’t guarantee he’ll be particularly friendly but he’s a good host at least.” Tyr shrugged though the motion seemed only half hearted. The man himself seemed to lack any real conviction or emotion though so it wasn’t surprising. Dante himself wasn’t terribly surprised when the guide provided by his contact was a demon. He was investigating old demon history after all. He’d never cared for the old legends but even he had to admit there were parts of it that made no sense.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll just shut him up if he’s being an asshole.” Dante replied lazily patting the guns at his hips. The shadow looked almost skeptical at this while the hunter kept one hand on ebony. This place was giving him the heebie jeebies after all. The entire town had looked abandoned yet lived in, a perpetual fog making it all the more erie. They stood before the doors of some grand hall, more then likely the throne room.

“Right here we go.” Tyr raised his hands and shadows crawled up the much too tall doors before pushing them open. A groan resounded echoing through the mostly empty room. Iron scones were along the pillars with strange pale blue flames burning, much like the rest of the castle. The only other noticable thing in the room was the throne. Dante was fairly surprised by what he saw there. A man sat atop the throne though seemingly asleep. He looked older, though perhaps no later then 50′s with long silvery almost white hair, and a neatly trimmed goatee, wearing a suit that reminded Dante of some of his more obnoxious clients. Business men who thought they could get away with more because they had money.

“So this is him?” He heard. The voice was raspy as if long unused. The older mans eyes now open and locked on Dante, both a fierce electric shade of blue that made the hunters own seem dull.

“Right Dante Redgrave may I present Dietrich Ailis.” Tyr gave a sweeping bow as he gestured from the hunter to the man on the throne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So are you just one more asshole who hated my old man and came after me?" Dante snarled at the idea. He was so damn tired of cleaning up the messes that man left him. Dietrich shook his head at this and leaned forward elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He looked older somehow as long hair shifted across his shoulder, and that his expression changed to something almost nostalgic casting deeper shadows across his face.

"No. For once that is not the case, well mostly." The younger man looked at him curiously at this.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I didn't hate Sparda. At least not truly, I never could despite what he did to us. In fact I loved him dearly, more so then a devil should ever be capable of. After all we are said to be without hearts to feel such things, it's a gift humans were granted that both demons and angels were denied." Dietrich shook his head a bit just sending more white cascading over his shoulders slowly to pool in his lap. Dante wasn't sure why that detail was so distracting, perhaps it was something in how fluidly the man moved despite moving so little at all. Maybe it was because of something so pure white on a soul so black. "I fell in love with the image of a fool with a bleeding heart. Sparda was a hero in the text book sense. He would never let those who were being oppressed suffer for long. I always knew that letting him lead the charge against humans would end badly."

"Then why not do something to stop him? You make it sound like you could have." Dante wasn't sure why he wanted an answer, but it bothered him to think things could have been so different. Dietrich sighed at this sounding weary, as if there was a tiredness settled even into the mans bones after so many long years that he only remembered now.

"Because of the fact that I loved him. The army was where he belonged, where he shone like the brightest star in our sky. I was the lead strategist certainly, but he was our commander, our king in all but title. To take him from the field would ruin him. So he went and he met those frail terrible creatures and fell for them. Realized what us taking their world meant, how it would be a slaughter. He couldn't allow it. He had a code that was understood by none yet all." He held out his hands with palms up as if beseeching some unseen figure.

"And you still insisted on fighting him?"

"I did. I fought him the hardest. You surely wonder why if I loved him as I say I do. I fought him because I have always placed home above all and our home was dying. I placed those in my care above myself. It was painful, certainly but he made it easy in a way. I remember even now the words he said to me. 'You're a monster. You can't kill the humans. They can't possibly beat us. I thought you were my friend, my brother'." Dante was surprised at the absolute ache he could feel in those words. As if reliving them tore something in the demon to shreds better then any blade.

"He didn't know."

"He didn't. So he struck us all down. Including me. Though I was in ways his equal so he wasn't strong enough to kill me. However for my perceived betrayal I was cursed and stand here now. King of the dead, last to know what happened then, and so very tired." As he spoke he'd leaned back pulling aside the collar of his shirt. Dante could see the top of a wide jagged scar across the mans shoulder and collar bone. If it was done with force edge he could only imagine how bad the rest was. "I became the monster he saw me as. Now I just want rest."

"So you really are just some shitty devil after all that needs to be gotten rid of." Dante hissed the words as if what had been said justified the need to eliminate Dietrich to avoid the danger the elder presented.

"Perhaps. Though you'd have never guessed until I told you. Let this be a lesson to you Dante. I'm sure you've learned it before but a refresher is nice." He rose from his throne looking down at the hunter with a bored gaze and burning blue eyes. The flames of the lamps suddenly burned brighter and the room seemed to glow, casting the shadow of a large winged beast across the wall behind Dietrich. "We are not all we seem. After all even the devil was an angel once and he was gods favorite. Do not let perceptions and foolishness tint your path so you make a mistake you will regret."

"Fuck you." Dante snapped back watching as the elder snarled at this baring fangs far from human. The disguise was so good, so almost on that it made the places it was wrong stick out all the more. A devil who would walk amongst humans yet never be able to blend among them.

"You may yet live to regret those words boy. You are the only one who can kill me because of this curse. This poison in my blood he placed that won't let any other end me, but I will not go easily. They wish for rest as well, but not surrender." Suddenly it appeared, a wild blue fire like those eyes and so much here. It condensed, coalesced into shape, into figures behind Dietrich as if the ghosts of those past were here themselves to stand at his back once more. Dante had a feeling he would indeed regret some of his choices just this once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dante looked up at the other from where he kneeled. Every muscle screamed at the idea of this much less standing, and he was weary down to his bones. No fight had pushed him so far. Yet the older man stood there looking unphased despite the blood running down the side of his face, and the tear carved through his armor. Dietrich looked as if he'd stood within the eye of a storm, and while he hadn't come out unscathed he'd certainly proven a force of nature.

"I never stood a chance did I?" Dante asked wondering if the man would let him leave with his life. While he didn't like the idea of giving up he'd learned over time when to hedge his bets.

"That's just it." Deitrich sounded so weary suddenly, once again the old man with a torn jacket and blood down his face all the same. "Once upon a time you did. You would have been the death of me. This story would finally end. I could have peace. Now, now you can't. You may be able to kill Dante, but you only kill villains. Somewhere along the way you lost sight of the fact that I am just that. We are all heroes in our own minds, most of the time, it's convincing others to believe this that's the trick."

"You always had a way with people Sire." Tyr said finally speaking for the first time in a while. "You were the greatest of us once, the one who sought to take the burden of a whole world on your shoulders. It's why we loved you all in our way, it's why they stay with you. It’s why I wanted to see you finally rest. Seems I made a mistake." 

[notthetoothfairy]

He’s Got You High

For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥

She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.

read on AO3

Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.

It reads, Kurt Hummel.

He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.

To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.

It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.

So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.

Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.

Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.

To: Blaine Anderson

From: Kurt Hummel

Subject: Paper Eggstension

---

Dear Mr. Blaine,

sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.

You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?

But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!

My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)

Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.

Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.

He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.

The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”

In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.

And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.

-

“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.

Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.

“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”

“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”

“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”

“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”

Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”

“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”

“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”

“What?”

“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”

He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.

“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”

“Again, the guy’s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.

“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”

Kurt whimpers.

“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.

Kurt lets out a miserable whine.

“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”

“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”

“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”

“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”

Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”

Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”

“In my grave, you mean?”

“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”

“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”

“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”

It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.

-

Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.

He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.

Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.

Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.

He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.

He looks up from his notebook with a smile.

“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”

Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.

And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”

Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.

Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?

-

“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.

He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.

Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”

“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”

“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.

“If…?” he asks quietly.

“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”

Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.

But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?

He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.

“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”

“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”

“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”

“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”

Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.

“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”

Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”

Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.

“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”

“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”

“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.

As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”

Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”

“I really didn’t mind.”

“Okay...”

“Like, really really.”

Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”

“Later, Blaine.”

-

Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.

Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.

“Talk to you later, Rachel.”

“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”

“Bye now!”

As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.

“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”

“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”

“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”

“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”

“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.

“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”

Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.

“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”

“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”

Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.

“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”

“What part of shut up-”

Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.

Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”

Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.

They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.

Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.

Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.

Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”

It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.

[insufferablelust]

The dying and Its blossoming.

The one where Y/N love Spencer Reid, but soon find out that he might or might not have found someone else.

OKAY HELLO, this is the angst i talked about yesterday, it’s sad.. but has a happy ending so don’t cry just yet! anyway the reason why i write this is because i’ve been numb for few days and i want to cry bad so i just decided to write. And this is what i came up with, it made my soft ass cried so hopefully.. it can get through to you too, happy reading! oh and TAAHM is also uploading soon!

MASTERLIST OF ALL MY WORKS.

WARNINGS : ANGST, heartbreak stuff, fluff at the end, thats it i think!!

————🍃————

It was the little things he did that caught your eyes since you joined the team. The way he first introduced himself to you, shaking your hands with the brightest smile beaming on his face. The way he always put a coffee on your desk before you arrived. The way he would review all the case with you, going over the files together and staying late to work on paperworks together. The way he called you a week after Maeve’s death and asked you to stay on the phone. So on and so forth.

Falling for Spencer Reid is inevitable, how can it not be inevitable? when you and him practically do all things together, Dr Who marathons, Drive to Rossi’s, even accompanying him to Vegas one time to visit his Diana.

The first time you felt it, felt the spark— you shook away your thoughts and scoffed at yourself, it’s just a stupid crush. You tried, tried so hard to believe that it was just a stupid crush. Yet the more time you spent together, the more your heart take over your brain, convinced you to love him, and convinced you to think that he’s in love with you. Truth and confession aside, you could’ve sworn he’s in love with you, these are facts right? all these moments? surely it has to mean something to him, like it meant something to you.

Confuses and frustrated, the next person you called was Emily, your closest friend besides Spencer. She knows how head over heels you are for him, and how much you’re willing to do anything for him. So that night you spilled all your confusions and worries as you sipped on your wine, your teeth constantly biting your nails— if Spencer was here, he would’ve told you that “Y/N, do you know that biting your nails—“ and you would listen to him contently even if you already knew what he was about to say.

“It’s just— i’m not crazy to think he loves me back right? or at least like me?” You stresses, chugging down the last bit of your drink as you hear Prentiss chuckled on the other side.

“What? No Y/n, look i’ve practically grown up with you guys, and all i can say is that you both really need to realize how much you actually need each other, so stop worrying, go get your man.”

Now when Emily said that, she didn’t mean it as literally going over to Spencer’s house like what you were doing right now. Only wearing an oversize sweater and pair of jeans, you looked so comfy inside those sweater paws that you let out an annoyed huffed, ‘now he’ll think i’m a child’ then an idea popped inside your head, causing a big cute smile to appear on your cheeks. Your hand reached to the backseat, sighing when you find what you were looking for; Spencer’s purple sweater.

Now you didn’t stole it, he gave it to you, because you’ve mentioned one morning that “They are all sold out Spence! you’re one of the lucky ones” The annoyed look on your face must be so embarrassing that he gave his godforsaken lilac sweater to you the next day, with the Spencer reid’s famous smile “Here, you can keep it, i already washed it but it’ll probably smells like me still cause i smell like my clothes and i used my—“

“Lavender, you always use lavender for your clothes, i remember Spencer! oh my heavens! Thank you.” You can’t forget how seemingly happy he looked, cheeks flushed, as flushed as yours.

You sighed contently at the thought, as you exited your car, clutching his sweater on your chest as you head up to his apartment. Now you see, if the plan does work you’ll just say that you need for him to wear it again because the smell starting to wear off, which made you giggle. So you jog upstairs quickly to his apartment door before knocking, “Spencer?”

You frowned, usually he always opened his door right after you knock, why’s he taking so long? so out of worry you knock few times “Hello? Spencer?” this time you were met by voices of two people, giggling and hushing each other, as they got closer, you giggled in thought ‘maybe you’ll find garcia there who knows?”

But the moment someone opened Spencer’s door your eyes went wide, and your brain tries to make a sense out of what you’re seeing. Here standing in front of you is a girl, a stunning woman you’ve neither met or recognized but one thing you recognized is how well Spencer’s sweater clung on her body, and how happy she looked while she’s standing on his door wearing his clothes with his mug in hand.

“May i help you?” She asked with a smile, you could see the blue colored scrub bottom on her, A surgeon, judging by her uncharacteristically warm welcome, you guessed pediatrics. Damn it Y/N no time for profiling.

“Is spencer he—“

“Who is it, love?”

Oh... so this is why he canceled your usual movie night two days ago, this is why he’s been saying he’s busy when you asked him to drive you to your usual hangout library, this is why he’s been so happy recently.. this is the reason. a mid 20 possibly 30 years old gorgeous Surgeon with a warm smile and impossibly sweet attitude.

“Uh i think she’s your friend from work, Y/N right?”

You concluded then and there that you don’t like how she said your name, it was selfish but you hated how kind it sounds whilst you’re here standing in front of her, eyes glassy and lips trembling. Then when you thought you’ve seen it all, your eyes locked with Spencer, he— looked so content and comfortable, happy. He looked so happy with his...

“Y/N, hi what are you doing here so late? oh and Y/N meets (G/N) and (G/N) meets Y/N, she’s my best friend from work”

So thats what you were, Best friends who acts like a couple, best friends who hold hands, best friends who shared a drunken kiss, best friends who poured everything to each other, best friends who— you can go on and on yet you can feel how tight your chest is becoming, Anxiety— fuck you have to get out of here.

“Y/N?”

“I-i, uh here’s your um sweater, i— figured you might want uh it back, alright i gotta go now.” Spencer didn’t missed how your hand trembles so bad when you handed him the sweater, or how glassy your eyes looked, or how your face looked like it was drained of color, and how you struggled to breathe, her anxiety attacks.

“Y/N wait!” Before he could mention anything, she went down quickly and running towards her car.

“What was that all about?” His girlfriend asked him, which he shook his head in reply, and muttered “no idea, let me check” So he went down, to no surprise, her car was speeding away.

What Spencer didn’t know was that Y/N came home wishing she could’ve been smart enough to noticed the damn signs, or smart enough to never let her heart fooled her into thinking a genius, a guy like him would ever have any feelings for her.

She went to the bathroom, not bothering to wash her face instead she sat down near the sink and then she cried, she hugged her knees and Y/N cried that night, cried so hard that she tire herself out, falling asleep on the floor of her bathroom.

——————

The next morning, she woke up with a headache that’s practically yelling at her to take some meds and drink, her eyes opened slowly as she found herself laying on the cold bathroom floor. Slowly she tried to get up, holding onto the nearest wall as she feel her knees buckled and her head pounding, she let out string of curses before managing to stand fully, leaning over the sink to see herself in the mirror.

The sight is terrifying, her eyes bloodshot red, her face looks dull drained of color, her lips dry, her hair is a mess and her nose is runny. She continue to stare at her misery some more until her phone rang, flaring up the headaches. Great.. Must be a fucking case.

“Hello?” She mentally cringed hearing herself, she doesn’t sound like herself, she sounded like she just drank 30 bottles of alcohol then managed to broke her vocal cords.

“Hi... Y/N are you okay?” Emily’s voice was soothing at least, she sighed as she gulped down an aspirin and took some clothes out of her closet.

“Yeah, We have a case?” She knew that Emily would dig up the conversation more if she didn’t jumped straight to the point, and Y/N is in no mood to talk.

“Yes, wheels up in 40 but if you cant—“

“I’ll be there in 10.”

—————

Y/N took a quick shower, before putting on your work pants, a simple V-neck t-shirt and top it with a blazer, quickly gulping the rest of her water before combing her hair and then head out the door. When she parked her car, her memory drove back to last night, causing her to groan in mental and physical pain— tears welling in her eyes as she violently hitting the steering wheel.

“Not now, Not fucking now.” She closed her eyes before leaning back against the headrest and take a deep breath, calming herself down. She prayed to herself that she won’t break down if she sees Spencer.

She won’t break down.

She keep chanting that inside her pounding head as she walked out of the elevator, entering the bullpen, quickly grabbing her go bag and place it on top of her desk before heading upstairs to the meeting room.

She knew where he usually sit, so when she entered the room, she tried her best to look at Garcia, presenting the case. “Sorry i’m late, traffic is a damn bitch, Double homicide Garcia?” She asked, as she sit down between Emily and JJ, looking down at her files, noticed how stupid she was to use files instead of the tablet which she refused so she could review the cases with Spencer on the plane, Now look who’s laughing. What she didn’t realized realized is that all eyes were on her disheveled looking state, no amount of make up could cover the misery, i suppose.

“Yes, we’re thinking surrogates for a blond woman with wealthy family. Y/N are you okay?” She visibly tensed, hearing his voice is like opening up a fresh wound and pour some acid on top. She wished he could just shut up and not talk to her anymore, not now or in few days at least.

“Fine. Garcia, any other leads?” Y/N looks up to Garcia, to find her with a frown on her face, clearly wanting to say something. But Y/N has the pleading look in her eyes, and the way she tilted her head made Garcia shook her head and replied with a small “Nuh uh thats it, the rest is on your file” Nodding at her with a silent thank you, you get up and left the room, which in other cases Emily won’t appreciate but she let it slide because she knew something’s wrong.

“Y/N” Not him again, you muttered on your head, as you zipped up your go bag.

“Y/N..” Then he touched you, touched your arms, he touched you and you exploded, all your willpower ceased to exist as you swat his hand away and giving him a warning.

“Don’t touch me unless necessary, don’t talk to me unless it’s about the case, and do not call me by my first name, it’s agent Y/L/N, have a good day Dr.Reid”

—————

Throughout the entirety of the case, neither you nor spencer talk to each other, only piling up opinions about the case, the team have caught the unsub of course, so now you’re heading back to DC.

The longer you sit on the very opposite end to where Spencer sit, your mind started to wonder back to what happened three days ago. Being on the case has definitely helped distract you from the reality that Spencer Reid has a girlfriend and that you’re a fool to ever believed that he could love you. You’re so deep in thought whilst looking at the soft curls of his hair, you didn’t realized Emily has sat down next to you.

“A girlfriend?”

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend doesn’t he?” Your eyes darted to Emily’s as you sighed heavily, closing your eyes and leaned your head against her shoulder. “She’s a surgeon, pediatrics i think, she probably smarter than i am, um she smile a lot and she’s holding a cup of coffee when i arrived so i’m guessing she’s a nice person, there’re cat fur on her hair so i guess she has a cat which he should’ve hate being a germaphobe and all but i guess she love that kind.” Y/N half whispered half yelled, as she stared at his poking head still that is before she heard Emily burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, Y/N you profiled her?”

“Em!” You whined as you shove her shoulder, you crossed your arms on your chest as you huffed and pout like a child. “I’m sorry it’s just.. oh god you even notices cat hair” She laughed again, which caused you to laugh loudly, feeling the joy overcome you in full force before you started to cry, not knowing why. Tears kept on falling down your face as Emily hugged you and rubbing your back “Its okay, let it out sweet girl. I got you.” That was the last thing you remembered before falling asleep.

—————

It’s been a week since the last case, you’re finally able to hold yourself up and not cry every 2 hours is an achievement. You spent your time on an autopilot mode, woke up, work, avoid Spencer depending if there’s a case or not, then lunch, cried in the bathroom, paperwork, avoid Spencer, return home, cried again watching Dr Who, falls asleep, woke up and repeat. That’s how you’ve been for a week, and you know how difficult it is to move on but you’re trying and thats what matters.

Knock knock

You furrowed your brows at the sound, Emily wasn’t supposed to be here until 2 PM, so why’s she visiting now at.. 11 am? You sighed as you put down your tub of ice cream and opened the door only wearing your pajamas since its sunday.

“Emily, its way to early to— Dr.Reid?” You can’t believe your eyes when you see a very nervous looking Spencer at your door, your heart still thump hard at the sight of him which you whined at inside— you still love him after everything. Damn it. You took a deep breath as you heard him say your name, before moving backwards to slam the door at his face,

“No! no no wait Y/N hear me out! please!” His voice cracks as he hold the door so you won’t have a chance to slam it in his face.

“What the fuck do you want? Is being an asshole and destroying my life enough for you?” You half yelled, as you turn around and let him see your angry tears. You were so mad at him, you hated him so much, yet you still love him just as much if not more.

“I know, i know you hate me and i deserved it. But please hear me out, you deserve explanation.” His voice are quivering, signaling he was about to cry as you chuckle darkly,

“Damn right i am. But i’m done, done with your games, i can’t keep up with you— i will never be enough and you have.. have someone so please just go and i’ll forget this will ever happen” You plead as your voice soften, you’re just exhausted, you want it to stop, you want to stop hurting. So you shoved him away before pushing the door,

“I love you! I’ve always loved you.” Your movement froze as you hear him continue, your tears still falling freely from your eyes

“The only reason why.. why i dated her is so that i can get over you. I thought.. i thought you’ll grow tired of me soon, and i don’t want to be the one who’s hurt so i.. i found her but i love you, i never stopped”

“You cant just assumed things like that Spencer! You can’t. You should’ve asked me you should’ve told me!” You’re full on yelling now as you let him in, god your neighbors is going to hate you.

“I know! I know but i never handled rejection well and you know that! everyone left me, my dad, Gideon, Morgan, Emily at one point, Hotch, and maybe my.. mom soon. I’m sorry Y/N, i really am, i’m— i’m sorry for being such a coward, for not telling you, for not—“ You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips against his in a desperate ‘i love you’ manner, you didn’t care, you just love him, and he could be lying but why? why would he be lying? You pulled back as you stare at him

“Have you end it?”

“5 days, 17 hours, and 28 minutes ago” You chuckled, the first time you chuckled after such a long time, as you let your head fall onto his shoulder.

“I love you too..” You whispered, causing him to hug you tightly as you both sob into each other’s arms, whispering I love you’s again and again like it’ll never be enough.

“I love you, Y/N Y/l/N, i swear.”

“I love you, sorry about calling you an asshole” You laughed nervously before he chuckled and leaned to push you on the couch, “You might have to make it up to me..” He teased, and you let out a grunt. “Fine, Blow jobs for a week anywhere you want..” His face beamed and he blushes before tickling you, “Deal, Baby.”

“Wait Spencer so does this mean—“

“Y/N, will you be the girlfriend of this asshole?” You let out a tear before nodding and tackling him to the couch to hug him tightly “yes, yes, yes i will” He kissed your lips quickly, reaching for his satchel and pull out a lilac sweater,

“I believe it’s yours”

“Like you’re mine?”

“Yours, always.”

——————

blurb requests are open! send some in, any genre is fine, and please like + reblog! if you have any constructive criticisms or feedback please private message me, thanks!

[diebolicalmysteries-blog]

How to find yourself in 24 hours.

Crater lake. It is. . . . Confusing. Over 6000 ft above sea level, and as far as researchers know, it falls as deep as 1,943 ft. The water is so blue, and still until the wind pushes a rippling break through the calm. The whistling through the shrubbery breaks silence when alone, yet your thoughts wounder freely in self refelction. I came to crater lake not in hopes to find myself, but to find the answer to an internal problem. I am 26, and i know i have talent. But i want to do so many things, that i have lost sight of my dreams. I dont think about building a giant robot, or exploring space. I no longer, long to fight for justice, nor wish for anything to happen. I just want quiet and warmth.

When i was younger, i always wanted something an adult had said, to stick to me and help inspire me through the years. I never got that. The only two things i rememeber are "ok whatever" (which i HATE hearing) and "if you cant say something nice, dont say anything at all." Which just weirdly made me feel like i shouldnt talk at all, since you can offend people just saying "hello". I was in a world where i felt like i was not allowed to speak. But for anyone who knows me, that is not really a thing i actually did. I liked talking, because it filled in silence. Now as an adult, i find myself longing for that silence often. This was the right place to be.

I had 24 hours to find myself there. To find my reason to keep going. To find my passion again. To figure out what i was going to do for the rest of my life. I hiked all over the north and north east parts of that lake. I wanted to see it from every angle, and see everything around me. Birds were getting ready to fly away for the winter. You saw them getting ready to leave while looking over the cliffs edge. I wanted to leave with them. I wanted to be them. To fly over water so blue, it would feel like being swalled up by the sky itself. I guess i wish to fly away, or where ever i want.

The trails had me all over the place, but i didnt see much wild life. I was to busy i my own head of "whats next" to even notice much else. During my walking i also noticed all i could do was be Impatient over what came next. The constant thoughts of "whats next" and "what am i looking for" had me walking around unable to relax. I was so mentally annoyed with myself, all i could do was want to come home. I didnt know how to take in the beauty without being in the right state of mind. There was a point in my hiking i stopped and sat on the picnic table and just...pondered.

With the help of some kind strangers, i was able to get back into my head and rethink over everything. I thought about my life and all the choices i had made. I thought about why i would take this trip alone. What comes after it. Where i would go. It took strangers and being angry with myself, just to see the questions laid out in front of me. Answers are what i was looking for, but all i got were more question. So i took a time out.

I had hours before i needed to back at the park for star gazing, so i headed up to bend for a moment to grab food. I was so excited to star gaze. But as i got close to bend, it was harder to see. A fire had slowly started to cover the area in smoke. There goes part 1 of star gazing. I couldfeel myself getting more and more tired as i got closer. The sun still up, questions still buzzing in my head. Maybe some food to actually feed my brain would help me figure things out. I forgot to ponder.

The moment i got to a mcmeniminns, and ordered a nice ruby ale, my brain stopped. I find their food and beer to be very calming for me. To me mcmeniminns, are a comfert place. The food always made me happy, but once i was 21, i understood a good beer and food pairing. Food and art distracts me every time. I love food so much i forgot to think. Heck, even now as i think about it, i just want to go into details about my food and the joynit gave me. Maybe i was meant to do something with food my whole life. But really, who knows. But yea, i ended spending more time their, than anticipated, but getting side tracked by passport stamping and a nice light and sweet cigar around a fite pit always calms me down.

I finally left bend, it was gettinf dark, i was tired, i didnt want to spend more money than i had to, and i had almost ran putnof gas just trying to get the area. I didnt feel like risking it again. The moon had come out of hiding, and it was a full, bright moon at that. So i told myself "not tonight" and headed home. On my drive back to portland that night, i was Exhausted!! But i had so many thoughts bussling around, i never got tired enough to pass out, (Thank goodness). The roads were pitch black. All you could see was the light from the moon through the trees. If even that at some places. I took backroads to get home, in hopes i would find a spot to stop and gaze up at the night sky, but determination kept my eye on the prize to make it to a bed. Which i did make it safely. But the day after everything answered every thing.

How to find yourself over 24 hours!

Step 1. Drive away early in the morning to a nice place you have never been before.

Step 2. Think a lot about your issues.

Step 3. Talk to strangers and look off into the distence for hours.

Step 4. Drive all around still thinking about every thing.

Step 5. Realize at the end of it, you cant just find yourself in 24 hours.

Step 6. Maybe look into finding help. I may not have found myself, but i did figure out what is next in my life.

I am thinking about Counseling for myself. I dont have answer to any of my questions, because need to work through some things. My past defines who i am, and not myself. I am scared to talk to some one about things, but i want to better myself, and i learned on this trip, i cant do it alone. My writing doesnt go into what i deeply thought about, because that isnt what i want people to get out of it. I want people to just know that setting out to do something alone is scary and hard. We put pressure on ourselfs to be prefect, or interesting, or strive to achieve the world, every single day. Take a step back every now and then to just be alone. You dont have to find anything from it, and it might not be the thing to give you everything you wanted. But taking a moment to yourself, even just to slow down, can help you brake up some mental fog, to help you go further. But dont give yourself a set time limit to get your answers. Take your time, but do take the time. Your happiness and well being, is always worth it.