#and it’s been a struggle bus to claw my way back

[sexynetra]

Me 🤭

[thegnomelord]

Bro I have been a solid lurker for a HOT moment. Let me just say stupendous writing literally devouring this surplus like a fine dinning for 3. Daily check your page because the writing is so immaculate!

I have come to share a particular idea. Soap has a Mohawk but what about male reader having a cool hairstyle to. (Totally not because I also have a Mohawk there cool asf) but soap who is used to having his hair pulled, then comes along reader and he's practically begging to have his hair pulled with the silly style and soaps obsessed. BONUS points if reader and soap or monsters like bloodborne lichen dude 🙏🙏🙏 peek monster design I need to see that in action you know. (I'm so full of cool old school horror movies with monsters and insane cool practical effects) all I'm thinking about it Soap who's being an arse pushing reader to his limits, grabbing his hair and pulling only to get a near guttural growl from reader and getting demolish by reader

Sorry if that made no sense im rambling and the bus is a pain in my side.

Could I be 🛠 anon!

NGL I always wanted a mohawk and TRIED to do a mohawk but my head is shaped like a very inbred egg and it just does not look good on me.

CW:MDNI, sorry it's short I don't have much time cause I'm swamped with other projects and my studies :Dd

But I also love the idea of conventional werewolf Soap with Bloodborn werewolf reader. Like you're beastly even in human form, a wild mohawk on your head stretching down all the way down your spine, wild coarse hair giving you a savage appearance. And Johnny is painfully hard for it. Just something wild in bones absolutely salivates for the blatant ferocity you show.

So, as you do, he makes himself a menace every chance he gets. Something in him, something beyond his inner wolf, earns for the ferocious bloody fight and brawl. So any chance he gets, he's by your side, growling, baring his teeth, always trying to push the boundaries of your space.

He finally fucks up when, his need getting too strong, he reaches out and curls his fingers in your mohawk near the nape of your neck. The growl he receives shakes the ground and has his heart dropping to his stomach. Your teeth are on him in a second, big clawed paws pinning him to the ground no matter how much he shifts and tries to fight back. You're bigger than him in wolf form, wild hair and semi-flayed flesh falling around his head like a shroud so all he can see is are the jagged jaws snarling near his face.

And it only takes a second before you feel his ass bump against your groin, a second later to smell the strong musk of arousal clinging to him like the last dregs of humanity cling to your bones. Soap whines like a kicked pup when he smells your acrid arousal in return, licking into your open jaws and struggling on purpose to grind his ass against your quickly hardening cock.

[justagirlandhersims]

I truly believe this new version of the Blackpool Combat Club is what creative hoped The Elite angle would be. While Matt and Nick are a great tag team, their strength as heels is comedy (side note - Okada has turned out to have some pretty good comedic chops as well). If you're trying to "take over" a promotion, can we really take you seriously if you're wearing your weight in grandma's pearls? If anything, the only one who seems to have understood the assignment in The Elite is Jack Perry.

On the other hand, the new BCC is brutal. They have a mission and are singularly focused in accomplishing it. They have shown in a short time how far they are willing to go to "save" AEW. Moxley has always been known for his mastery in violence, while Matt and Nick's heel personas have always been more "douchebag frat bro". What a takeover needs is ruthlessness, violence, brutality - all the things that Moxley, Claudio, PAC and Marina (who is finally being used properly!) have in spades. Wheeler is their newest disciple and his turn was telegraphed beautifully by this shot:

Wheeler, who has been by Bryan's side. Who was forced to watch the BCC turn on his hero. Who was struggling to understand how Claudio (who lets be honest is his tough love father figure) could "abandon" a club Wheeler gave his blood, sweat and tears to. That Wheeler is reaching out for help (after being attacked viciously by the aforementioned father figure) while Bryan plays to the audience. Did Bryan eventually go and check on Wheeler? Yes. But I think by that time, the damage (both physically and emotionally) had already been done.

Now we come to the end of Wrestledream last night. This is one of the final shots before the PPV went off the air. Why? Because these are the people who will be leading the fight against this new Blackpool Combat Club. Who do we have?

Darby Allin - the handpicked successor of Sting. The very Sting who led the charge in World Championship Wrestling against the New World Order. Darby has had a tough time of it lately (both in and out of the ring - who gets hit by a bus and then goes to a play afterwards?). He has been a little lost now that Sting has retired. He was even handed his first coffin match loss. Moxley pretty much offered him a spot in the new BCC but Darby doubled down and pledged his loyalty to AEW. His fight against Brody King last night showed he is willing and able to go against seemingly insurmountable odds... and win.

Orange Cassidy - this man has become the heart of AEW. From a gimmick to hands down the best International champion this company has had. That speech (not a promo, a speech... in ring and heartfelt) he gave before his match against Moxley for the international belt at All Out last year? That was when we saw the beginnings of Orange Cassidy, the leader. This year, he has been betrayed by not one but TWO of his best friends. He knows what it is like to believe in a faction, in a group of friends and have that blow up in your face. He has clawed his way back with The Conglomeration (which, who knew that would turn out to be the faction we all needed right now), which shows his resilience. And much like Darby, he has never turned his back on AEW.

Daniel Garcia - I'm going to be honest... I didn't like him at the beginning. I especially didn't like him under the Jericho Appreciation Society (but the JAS was a joke from the get go, so I can't really fault him for that). The dancing... I could have done without. BUT I understand why the audience loved it. He has the same amount of potential Bryan did when William Regal started mentoring him. I'm not just stating my opinion - Bryan himself has said as much. While MJF betraying him wasn't that surprising or life changing, it opened Daniel's eyes to the "worst" part of AEW (kayfabe wise, not in real life - MJF is meant to be the personification of the overblown ego of a wrestler). His contract came up and what did he do? He recommitted to AEW and when Bryan was attacked, he came out to help. Because like so many younger wrestlers in the back, Bryan is his hero.

Hook - Let's be honest. Hook could have coasted on his father's name and reputation. TAZ is so well respected (and rightfully so), we all know doors were opened for Hook that may not have been available to others. But unlike a lot of nepo babies in the business, Hook has put in the work to become a solid technical wrestler. He doesn't have the ego one would associate with a nepo baby. He happily looks up to and takes mentorship from those around him (except Jericho but ignoring anything Jericho says is a sound life strategy). And like his father, he has put his lot completely in with All Elite Wrestling.

Not pictured: Eddie Kingston. Eddie can turn out to be such an amazing addition to this storyline. Think about it. His brother from another mother Jon has aligned himself fully (and brutally) with his mortal enemy Claudio. Bryan spent a good month and change belittling Eddie. At the same time, Eddie loves wrestling. Anyone with half a brain knows how much this man lives and breathes this sport. So what will he do when he returns? Will he set aside his hatred of Claudio and align with Jon? Will he avenge the honor of someone who called him the "king of the bums"? Or will he (and this is what I think will happen) become just as much a leader of the locker room as Bryan has been since he came to AEW?

Now finally, let's talk about Bryan's last run. He has said in recent interviews that Tony Khan wanted him to have that Wembley moment. That was not a creative decision he made. TK did it out of respect and I can understand his reasoning. But Bryan didn't want his end to be in service of himself. Instead, he picked Moxley to "retire" him. He used his final match to set up a civil war within AEW - a storyline which will bear a lot of fruit in the coming year. This will also set him up to come back (once this poor man's body gets the rest and recovery it so desperately needs) as a leader for the next generation. He will be the new William Regal but without the darkness that Regal freely admits he carried within himself.

Every single person involved in this angle deserves a standing ovation. Not just for their wrestling prowess but for the emotional weight they added to it. Wheeler alone deserves some sort of award for the turmoil he's shown week in and week out since All Out. You could hear the tears in Excalibur's voice as he tried to finish his duties as commentator. The look on Bryce's face when he called the match for Moxley... that hurt my heart. Darby struggling against so.much.tape in a vain attempt to help Bryan. Hell, his face as he came to the conclusion (whether right or wrong) that this wouldn't have happened if he beat Moxley.

What really got me though? The screams of "no" when Wheeler stood up after checking on Bryan. He hadn't even done anything yet but we all saw the train wreck happening in slow motion. That's how you know a story has been told well.

I for one cannot wait to see where all of this takes us. I have been a wrestling fan for over 30 years. I was watching live when the nWo formed. To see a new, fresh and even more brutal take on that iconic storyline is an absolute treat for me.

So thank you, Bryan. Thank you Blackpool Combat Club. Thank you Orange Cassidy, Darby and Private Party. Thank you to every single person who brought this story to life.

[thepowerofswayze]

67 w/schlatt pls :)

I WAS SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONEEEEE. made it schlatt x musician!reader bc tell me why i learned this song is about a long distance relationship and not an ex that ur still friends with... it was about to be much angstier if i didn't go reread the genius lyrics LOL

warnings & info: rpf, a little suggestive but nothing explicit

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings, by Caroline Polachek || Schlatt

Don't send me photos, you're making it worse 'Cause you're so hot it's hurting my feelings

☆

Music pumped through the speakers, making Schlatt’s chest vibrate as he stood just off to the side of the dimly lit dance floor with his friends. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone out since you’d left for tour, but it was the worst so far.

It’d been weeks. Four and a half weeks, to be exact. It was a struggle for the both of you, going from seeing each other every other week (and spending those weeks joined at the hip, rarely doing anything apart) to not seeing each other at all for a month or more at a time. The calls and facetimes were necessary, and they helped, but god if Schlatt didn’t miss holding you.

Even now, in the midst of all his friends, he found himself wishing he could carry on with this conversation while his arm was thrown casually around your shoulder. Maybe you’d hold his hand or rest your head on his shoulder. Maybe your arm would go around his back. Instead, he stood cradling his drink with both hands, half listening to Ted talk, half trying not to think about how every other song they played were songs you loved, songs you sang to him in the car and in the shower and while you scratched his scalp when you could tell he’d had a long day.

Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to go home with you right now. The feeling was almost too much, clawing its way through his chest.

Schlatt mumbled an excuse that he hoped sounded convincing and quickly shuffled down a hallway into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, leaning against it and running a hand through his hair. He opened your text messages, scrolling past your conversation from earlier that evening and finding pictures you’d sent from your adventures around your current city. He zoomed in on a photo of you caught in the middle of a laugh, probably taken by a friend you’d met up with, and his chest squeezed.

A ding! sounded from his phone, the screen scrolling down to the newest message you’d just sent him. His breath stuttered, caught in his chest as he saw the suggestive picture you’d sent and the message below it.

y/n: i miss you :(

He cursed under his breath, typing up a reply immediately.

schlatt: fuck angel you’re killing me. like it literally hurts schlatt: i miss you too schlatt: i’ll book a flight at this point. i’ll hole up in your tour bus y/n: don’t even play.

Another picture. Schlatt contemplated splashing his face with some water to relax a little.

y/n: please

10 minutes later he rejoined the party much less pained than before, having sent you one more text. It was a screenshot of his flight confirmation- he’d be in your next city in two days.

[winonaparadise]

short story 💯

wrote a very quick story about a class i took in college. if you like my writing in my videos you may like this

Five years ago today I was clawing through state university. I had switched majors in an effort to come away with something more material from my college experience – but I was also trying to earn as many credits with as few courses to keep my schooling short and cheap.

I took a heavy weighted class in “media law.” A subject notoriously as intricate as it is absolutely fucking stupid. Anything you could learn, Disney will change tommorrow. The professor was an adjunct, splitting his time between the humble basement where boys with Pulp Fiction posters in their dorms fiddled with cameras and the actual law school where he was employed some miles down the road. I have never seen Pulp Fiction, but I’ve fiddled with enough cameras and enough of the boys who own them to have reviewed it twice. This is not a problem to me now.

Then I was stupid. Twenty. And basically friendless. I spent all my time trying to make something the same way the universe spent billions of years pouring hot soup into holes and hoping life would bubble out. I studied Japanese during quiet matches of PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. I never got a win, and I never got an “A” in Japanese.

Weeks of school went by as I skimmed textbooks, got high, and thought about talking to literally anyone. Academic words danced around the edges of my brain like sand. I wrote essays on the same autopilot I write today. Feverish. Flowing. Fantasizing about what it would be like to go out with someone instead of texting a girl who now lived in Japan and making ramen noodles while listening for footsteps in a digital warzone.

I did all my work. I submitted it on something called “canvas” that the muscle memory in my fingers still types in search bars to this day. I never checked my grades. I knew they were bad.

Classes dragged me through the week on a bungee cord. I lived a block away from the bulk of them and found myself drifting in halls of buildings I’d never attended just to keep myself from meandering back home to draw a bad comic about a girl who lived in hell. 

I knew nobody. I went nowhere. I struggled to do classwork alone on outdoor benches dreaming of someone speaking to me. I needed to live in hell instead.

My media law professor was late the weekend after our first term essays were due. I don’t know what mode of transportation he took to get from one school to the other but today the Carolina sun had drenched him sweaty. We were chilly waiting for him to begin.

“Just about every single one of you failed.” He spat and chugged coffee through the entire period. “While I first was grading I thought I was the one who failed.”

He didn’t let the moment of respite last. “But I also did something I’ve never done before.” He paced like my father did when a restaurant was closed early. “I gave out my first perfect score. Which prevents me from grading on a curve.”

He huffed, he assigned a new reading, and he rushed out like he had lit dynamite. “Do better!” “What an asshole.” The girl who sat next to me in every class spoke as if she had been holding her breath. “Fuck him and fuck whoever got that hundred.”

“I know right!” I launched in on her anger, feeling it too. Back and forth we complained. We walked off campus together. She had long blonde hair and towered over me. I had felt ugly and mousey next to her, but today I felt like her equal. It felt good to bitch.

“I got a fucking 50. What about you?”

“It wasn’t pretty.” I recalled how I stayed up the night before the assignment was due. I milked bullshit into a puree. I got a rush of adrenaline from killing someone with a shotgun through a door in an abandoned house on the outskirts of Pochinki. I was probably close to being expelled. “This class is too fucking hard,” she smoked and shook her head by a bus stop on Tate Street. “I’m not about to lose my freetime over it.”

“Right.” I imagined her at parties. Black silhouettes against colored lights and deafening music. Like The Social Network. “We should be partners for the next assignment,” she got out her phone and passed it to me for my number. I typed it in. I waved her off on the bus. We did the assignment together. We texted each other about our studies. We joked about finding the guy who got the perfect score and beating him senseless. I thought about talking to her about my art or what we were making in other classes, but never did.

Towards the end of the semester I had to plan the next. A whirlpool churned in my stomach as I clicked on “grades” on my campus’ online portal. I had an A+ in a single course. 

Media Law.

My friend from class texted me that she was dreading the final. I texted her that if we failed I would kill Mr. Perfect Score. She texted “lol.”

She passed the course. I got my degree so I assume I did too. We stopped texting.

That professor emailed me asking me to take a course at the law school down the road. He said he would let me sit in and see if I wanted to change majors a third time. I never replied.

A law degree would just make Mr. Perfect Score a hundred times more punchable.

[chapel-of-rizztual]

*LEAPS INTO ASKBOX* okay, for a potential idea could we please have Cardinal Copia with feisty Dewdrop agere? Dew is feeling around 5-6 but very sleepy and bratty. He just needs someone who is patient and a tad bit stern :')

anon bc i'm shy about these things but obvious mutual emoji so you know who it is

-🧃

Send some agere/regressed ghoul requests

It had been a long day. Travelling all day to a new venue, then playing a show, then getting back on the bus to move on to the next venue had been exhausting. All the ghouls were tired. Copia could see the tiredness in their faces, hell, he could feel it in his own, the heaviness in his eyes. But one ghoul in particular he could see the exhaustion on more than the others.

He been watching Dew fight sleep for the last twenty minutes now. He watched as the little ghouls eyes would droop until they were almost closed before his head would jerk back and he’d wake up abruptly. As determined as Dew seemed to be to finish the film the ghouls had picked out to watch for the evening, there was only so many times Copia could watch him struggle like this.

He made his was over to him, kneeling in front of him and placing a gentle hand on his knees. Dew jumps and makes an annoyed squeak, glaring down at Copia.

“Wha’ was tha’ for?” He slurs, slow blinking at him.

“I think it’s time you went to bed, little one.” Copia whispers, trying not to disturb the other ghouls.

Dew pouts at him, frowning in a way Copia thinks might be him trying to intimidating but he looks more like an angry kitten. “M not little, I’m big.”

“Oh yes, of course. My bad.” Copia puts on a serious voice, trying his hardest not to giggle when Dew yawns. “But I still think it’s time for bed, even for big ghouls like you.”

Dew rubs his eye with his fist, yawning again. “But I’m watchin’.” He lazily points to the tv, yawning again. “The films.”

Copia can’t help but chuckle then, watching as Dew blinks hard trying to stay awake.

“Do you even know the plot of the film at this point.”

Dew frowns at him again and the image of an angry kitten pops into Copias head again. “Uh huh. S’ got people in it. And a dragon.” He blinks in confusion. “Or maybe it’s just a big lizard.”

Copia laughs as he stands, grimacing when his knees crack at the shift of weight.

“Definitely time for bed.” He hold a hand out expecting Dew to take it but he bats it away with a glare.

“Nooooo.” Dew pouts up at him. “Don’t wanna. Not even tired.”

A full belly laugh bubbles from Copia before he can even stop it. “I know that’s a lie, little one. I’ve watched you try not to fall asleep for the last twenty minutes now.”

Dew huffs and crosses his arms across his chest.

“No you haven’t.”

“Oh, but I have. I know you’ve been tired all day, so now it’s time to sleep.” Copia holds his hand out again for Dew to take.

Dew whines and pouts, shaking his head. Copia rolls his eyes at his typical fire chill stubbornness.

“I’ll give you two options. You can either take your own little butt off to bed.” Copia pauses, waiting for Dew to answer. He doesn’t. “Or, I’ll pick you up and carry you to bed.” Knowing how much Dew usually hates being carried, he expects the ghoul to jump straight up and rush always.

To his surprise however, Dew takes a second to think about it, biting his lip as he does. He eventually looks up at Copia with wide puppy eyes.

“Up.” He lifts his arms up, making grabby hand at him.

Copia feels his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Up? Are you sure?” He asks warily, not wanting to get ripped to shreds by ghoul claws.

Dew pouts at him, and nods. “Up!”

Copia doesn’t hesitate scooping the little ghoul up then, letting Dew wrap his legs around his waist and rest his head in his shoulder. He carries him off towards where the bunks are as Dew purrs into his neck.

“Can I sleep in your bed?” Dew whispers.

Copia hums, rubbing a hand down Dews back. “Of course, little one. Whatever you want.”

Dew perks up a little a that promise. “Will you rub my belly?”

Copia laughs, expecting a request like that from Dew. “Of course.” He presses a kiss to Dews temple. “Anything you want.”

Dew lets out a happy but very sleepy chirp into his neck. He’s fast asleep, snoring on Copias shoulder before they even make it to his bed.

[tikosblogg]

HIDDEN HEARTS//PT 3. FINAL PART

summary: love triangle? you grew up with folio, you are best friends. Both in very successful bands. folio tries to ignore his hidden feelings for you, especially when the one and only Noah Sebastian steals your heart.

Warnings: angst, SMUT nothing too crazy a little fluff.

A/N : so sorry for the long wait. I had trouble with this chapter. That being said, this will be the last chapter!! I hope you guys enjoy it!!! Not proof read I apologize.

I wake up to my alarm blaring on the bedside table at 5am. Letting out a tired sigh, I shut off my alarm. Today is the day. We leave for tour in 2.5 hours. I feel the nerves rack through my exhausted body. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so excited about this tour. It’s an absolute dream….but this also means I’m gonna be trapped on a tour bus with Noah, whom I’ve been avoiding for the past 3 weeks.

It’s been so hard. The hurt look on his face, everytime I cut our conversations short or made an excuse to leave the room every time he showed up, killed me. I have to do this. I don’t want to, but it’s for the best. I groaned, crawling out of bed to get all my stuff packed into my car. I slept in some sweats and a hoodie, so I could just get up and go. Since our first destination is only a 5 hour drive from here, we’re meeting at the studio, and all piling up into the bus.

After going over my check list a dozen times, I finally climb into my car, and head to meet everyone else. When I pulled up, all the guys plus a few more were packing their things in the bus. When I stepped out of the car, everyone yelled their “heys” and “what’s up” except for one. I looked him over, as he shoved his suitcase into the compartment on the outside of the bus.

He gave me a quick glance, before closing the compartment, and headed straight into the bus. I walked over to Nick, giving him a hug. “Is he okay?” He looked over towards the bus before shaking his head. “Don’t know. He’s been like this for the past 3 weeks. He won’t talk to anyone about it.” I felt my heart fall out of my ass. It's my fault.. ”you can go ahead and get on the bus, the guys will load your stuff.”

I shook my head pulling my gaze back to Nick. “Absolutely not, I can do it Nick.” He shook his head, pointing towards the bus. “There is a lot of stuff, and it has to be packed a certain way. Just go y/n. Get some rest.” I reluctantly nodded, headed towards the steps. I made my way inside, checking out the space. It was amazing. It was narrow, but so spacious at the same time.

I made my way across the bus, claiming a bunk. I threw my purse and phone onto the small mattress at the very top bunk, on the left side. I looked in front of me, at the closed sliding door. I slid it open to the entertainment area. There was a small flat screen, hung up on the wall, with an Xbox hooked up to it, resting on a shelf hung up under the tv. Across from it was the fluffiest recliner couch I’d ever seen.

Sitting on said couch was Noah. He wore his black bad omens joggers, with a Matching black hoodie. A black baseball cap on his. He looked so good. “Hi.” I stood there, awkwardly shifting back and forth on my feet. He nodded his head with a quiet “hey”, his eyes never leaving his phone. I turned back around, deciding to get some sleep. Our very first show is tomorrow, I need all the rest I can get.

I struggled climbing into the top bunk. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea being 5’0, picking the highest bunk. I got about half way, stretching my knee up to the mattress. My knee dug into it, as I tried pulling myself up into the bunk. My left leg dangle below me, trying to find something to push off of. I could feel myself slowly slipping.

Both of my hands clawed against the mattress trying to find anything to hold onto. As soon as I accepted my dreadful fate, I felt two hands on my ass shoving me into the bunk. I flew forward across the mattress, my forehead bouncing off the bunk wall with a loud thud. I quickly turned over, seeing Noah climbing into his bunk, directly across from mine on the right.

I rubbed over the throbbing spot on my forehead, as he lay on his back looking over at me. Our eye contact was intense, I could feel my face heating up. “Thanks.” I mumbled quietly, diverting my eyes somewhere else. He let out a quiet ‘mhmm” before sliding his curtain shut. I sighed, laying down, closing my curtain as well. This is gonna be a long tour.

I woke up to the sound of movement all throughout the bus. I checked the time on my phone seeing it was 1pm. Holy shit?! I slept that long? All of sudden my curtain was whipped open, to a smiling Nick. “Wakey wakey!! We gotta get checked into the hotel and then get ready for rehearsal and sound check.” I nodded with a smile, slowly climbing down from my bunk.

We all grabbed our stuff, exiting the bus to retrieve our suitcases from the bus compartment. We made our way inside, getting our key cards and headed to our floor. Once we got up there, we split up going to our respective rooms. I entered mine, throwing all of my stuff onto the bed. I pulled some black spandex shorts, and an oversized band t out of my suitcase. After getting dressed, I brushed my teeth and my hair. A knock on the door sounded through my room.

I opened it to Nick, and jolly. “Hey you ready?” I smiled, nodded my head, and followed them out. We all piled into a black suv, taking us to the venu we will be performing at tomorrow night. We’ve been here for three hours already, it’s hot as fuck in this place, and Noah is not happy. His inear isn’t working correctly, and the sound system doesn’t sound right. “Alright guys, let’s do it again.”

I sighed squatting to the ground, my legs so tired from just standing there. The music started, and I pulled the mic up to my lips. “Violence against nature….violence against nature.”

During the break down, Noah signaled for everyone to stop. “Y/N you’re sounding pitchy! Get it together!” I felt my heart stop. Did he really just say that to me? “Excuse me?!” I yelled, dropping my microphone to the ground, walking closer to him. We stared each other down, his eyes hard and cold. I shook my head walking away. I felt the tears burning my eyes. How fucking humiliating.

Who does he think he is?? I made my way to the green room backstage, slamming the door closed behind me. My chest heaved as I paced back forth. This is all my fault.. I threw myself at him, and ruined our friendship. I let out a quiet sob, as I took a seat on the couch, throwing my head in my hands. “Y/N” nicks voice made me jump out of my skin. I never even heard him enter the room.

“I’m fine Nick, we should probably get back out there.” I sighed, standing from the couch. “No y/n…sit down. We need to talk.” I nodded plopping back down on the couch, him taking the seat beside me. “Look I don’t know what happened, but it’s pretty obvious something is going on between you and Noah.” I felt my heartbeat pick up, as I shook my head. “No nick I-“ he shook his head “let me finish.”

I snapped my mouth shut, nodding my head. “You and Noah clicked as soon as you laid eyes on each other. Everyone noticed it. I noticed it.” I could feel my heart breaking. I never wanted Nick to find out. Of course he would have never told me I couldn’t see Noah, but I never wanted to put him in the middle of something like that. He didn’t deserve it.

“You quit coming around. We all noticed that. Come to think of it, that’s when Noah started acting differently. Why did you? Did he do something?” His voice had a bit of an edge at the end of his sentence. My eyes widened in horror. He thinks Noah did something to me?! If anything I did something to him! I’m the one who threw myself at him, and then ran away with no explanation.

I shook my head, throwing my hands over my mouth. “Oh god no Nick, no not at all.” A fresh set of tears fell down my cheeks as I let out a sigh. I just wanna be honest, and get over this. “The night you guys stayed at my air bnb with me….after I got out of the shower, you jolly and Nick passed out on the couches.” He nodded his head, never taking his eyes off of me. “Noah was outside on the patio, and I went and joined him. We just talked for a while. It was really nice. Then I….I kissed him.”

Nick laid a hand on my shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze. “So why are you so upset? Why are you avoiding him?” I sucked in a breath, trying to control my sobs. “After I kissed him, I freaked out and ran. I just. I don’t want to put you in the middle of something like that Nick. He’s your best friend and you’re mine. I never wanna put you in a position where you feel like you have to choose.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “But how do YOU feel y/n?” We stared at each other for a few seconds, as I tried to put the right words together. “I’ve never felt the way I do with Noah, with anyone else. I care about him so fucking much, but I can’t lose you Nick.” He pulled me into a tight hug, placing a kiss on my head. “Y/n I can promise you…you are never going to lose me. Ever. If that’s how you feel, then I 100% support you.”

I lifted my head in surprise. I thought he would be totally against this. I could feel the tension, worry, and dread slowly leaving my body. “I told you, all I want is for you to be happy. No matter who it’s with.” I nodded my head, my tears finally slowing down. So that’s what he meant that day….he already knew. I pulled him into another tight hug, as he stood from the couch. “Where are you going?” He smiled down at me. “I got a hot date with one of the sound techs lily.” He sent me a wink, crossing his arms over his chest. “And YOU have someone you need to talk to.”

I looked down nodding my head. “Yeah I should probably explain everything to Noah, let him know how I really feel.” Nick laughed, patting my shoulder. “You already did.” I looked up at Nick confused, his eyes fixed on the door. I looked over to see Noah standing there, a small smile on his face. Welp…I guess that was easy. Nick ruffled my hair with his hand, before walking toward the door. “I’ll leave ya to it.” He walked past Noah, giving him a pat on the back before closing the door behind him.

Me and Noah sat in silence for a minute, just staring at each other. He finally made his way over, sitting down next to me. He let out a sigh, before finally speaking. “I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just…I was hurt, and confused. But I should have never taken it out on you.” I didn’t bother saying anything. I didn’t care. I forgive him. He forgives me.

I threw myself onto his lap, straddling his thighs. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. He instantly wrapped his arms around me leaning back into the couch, pulling me with him. I pulled back, catching his gaze with mine. “I’m so sorry Noah.” He shook his head, cupping my cheek with his hand. He pulled me down into a soft kiss.

It started out just like our first one, sweet and slow. Until his hand slid down my back, cupping my ass in his giant hand. He squeezed it hard, making my core grind against his lap. I let out a soft moan, as he took the opportunity to shove his tongue in my mouth. Our kiss got more heated, the longer we sat there. Loud pounding at the door, made us both jump apart. “Let’s go love birds! We’re going back to the hotel!”

Jolly’s voice came through the door. We smiled at each other, still not moving. He cupped my cheek again, pecking my lips. “I like you too y/n, a lot.” I smiled, nodding my head. “Good.”

We made it back to the hotel 30 minutes later, Noah and I were glued together the entire time. We got to our floor, and everyone split up. I looked at Noah, nodding my head towards my room. “You wanna hang out for a bit?” He nodded, leading the way. I pulled out my key card, sliding it in. As soon as I opened the door, I was rushed in instantly being shoved against the door, Noah’s lips on mine.

I groaned into it, fisting his hoodie in my hands at his hips. He picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bed, dropping me on top of it. He climbed on top of me, settling between my thighs, laying his chest on top of mine. “Do you wanna do this?” I nodded my head without a second thought.

He leaned back down, shoving his tongue in my mouth. His hands gripped my shirt, pulling it over my head. He sat straddling my waist, pulling my bra off as well. I groaned as the cool air hardened my sensitive nipples. He leaned down, taking one into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing it. “You’re so beautiful baby.” I whined, reaching for him. He smiled, grabbing both of my hands, placing a kiss on the palm of both of them. He slid down my body, sliding my shorts and underwear off in one swoop.

Kneeled on the floor, at the end of the bed, grabbing my calves pulling me down closer to him. “Noah..” I whimpered as his breath hit my core. He spread my thighs open wide, slowly leaning down. He ran his thumb over my clit, before finally sucking it between his lips. I gasped, my hands flying to his hair, tugging on it. I quickly let it go, mumbling out an apology. He pulled away from me, looking into my eyes.

“You grab my hair, and fucking pull it all you want. Please baby.” I clenched at the fact, he was begging me. It was the sexiest fucking thing. I watched as spit fell from between his lips. I gasped as it fell directly on my clit. He watched me as he slid his two middle fingers into my throbbing hole. He slowly thrusted them, leaning back down to lick at my throbbing clit. “Fuck Noah.”

He groaned against me, as I tugged on his hair. He pulled away gasping. He whimpered before catching my eyes again. “Harder.” I almost came at that. He went back down, pumping his fingers faster. I felt my orgasm approaching, as I pulled hard on his hair, now grinding my pussy against his face and fingers. A few seconds later, my thighs were squeezed around his head shaking.

He pumped his fingers getting me through my high, before pulling out and climbing back on top of me. This kiss was erratic, and messy. Lips, tongues, and teeth clashing. I yanked at his hoodie, pulling it off of him. I ran my hands down his tattooed chest, pulling the waistband of his sweats and underwear down, his hard dick springing free. I gasped at his size. He smirked, pecking my lips before speaking. “You can take it, can’t you baby?”

I nodded my head fast, pulling his lips down to mine. I felt the tip of dick, right at my entrance. He gripped my thigh, bringing it up to my chest. Before looking at me one more time for confirmation. I nodded quickly. “Please.” Noah groaned, laying his forehead against mine. He slowly inserted the tip, before pulling it back out, over and over again. I whined, bucking my hips begging him to go in all the way.

He gave me a teasing smile. “Whose pussy is this?” I whimpered, as his tip kept entering me, and leaving me. “Yours.” I mumbled. He shook his head, gripping the back of my head pulling it up towards him. “Who’s?” I gasped, at this new dominant side of Noah. It’s driving me insane. “Fuck Noah it’s yours! Please!” Not a second later, he thrusted up completely bottoming out inside of me.

“Fuck Noah!” He wasted no times, pounding into me. “That’s right baby, this is my pussy. Nobody else's right?” He kept thrusting, never breaking eye contact with me. It was fucking intense. I shook my head, as best as I could with his fingers tangled in the back of my hair. “No baby…never.” He groaned, shoving his face into my neck, biting and sucking my skin. “Fuuuck baby.”

He groaned against me, sending chills down my spine. He quickly pulled away, pulling out of me. He took no time, flipping me over. He pulled my hips up, my ass high in the hair. He gripped the hair at the back of my hair again, shoving my cheek against the mattress. My back was arched as far as it could go, before he thrusted back into me. “Holy fuck y/n.” He groaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…so perfect.” All I could do was whimper and moan into the mattress. A loud smack sounded around the room. My ass cheek now on fire. I let out a strangled groan, loving the burning sensation it left behind. “Come on baby. Cum on cock.” Noah groaned, thrusting harder. He pulled me all the way up, until we were back to chest.

He wrapped one around my waist, bring his other down so his fingers could play with clit. He went back to biting and licking my neck, as I moaned out his name. My orgasm was quickly rising. He could feel it, as he rubbed my clit faster. “That’s right baby.” I groaned out his name, and came all over his dick, as he fucked me through it. “Good fucking girl.” He reached up, turning my face towards him.

We shared a sloppy wet kiss, before he let me go. I dropped back down on to my face, as he kept thrusting chasing his own high. “Please Noah….cum inside me.” He groaned, thrusting three more times before finally finishing inside me. He pulled out, falling down beside me. We laid there catching our breath, as lightly rubbed my back.

“Are you okay baby?” I smiled, opening my eyes looking at him. “More than okay.” He laughed, turning me onto my side to face him and into his chest. We laid there for a while, just soaking up each other's warmth until he finally broke the silence. “I missed you..” I lifted my head, to look at him. “I missed you too Noah. I’m so sorry-“

He put his fingers to my lips, stopping me. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” I smiled against his fingers. Giving them a little kiss, before taking them in his mouth. He groaned watching me. “Fuck baby…you’re gonna be the death of me.” I shrieked as he pounced back on me.

We spent the rest of the night, wrapped up in the sheets, and each other. It started out a little rough, but I am so grateful that Noah came into my life. He is the piece that I’ve always felt like I was missing…

[all-risejd]

In Which No Dresses Were Harmed…

Exert from “After Shine”, this is a future scene for the fic - set just before Hall of Fame. Rhea and Danika steal sometime for themselves. Kinks to be aware of: breeding, scratching, biting, dom!Rhea, subspace, aftercare, choking, I’m sure I missed some - if I did, please let us know. 

“This seems like a lot for one night.” Danika murmured, as she gazed at the dress Rhea had tossed in her direction, the label made her squirm a bit. “Also, there is a lot of skin going on here.” It was a red number with cut outs. “Not that I mind showing skin, but like…” She trailed off, unsure. “This seems a lot more like a red carpet sort of dress, and I just had that photoshoot that got everyone talking about if I was pregnant or not…”

“Are you?” Rhea teased, as she made a move to rub her hand over Danika’s stomach.

“No, I’m not pregnant, that I know of.” Danika rolled her eyes, and shoved Rhea’s hands away. “Do you want me to be pregnant?” Danika cocked her head to the side.

“It would be the absolute worst time.” Rhea shrugged, “But we’ve established you make cute babies.”

“Oh my god, you're worse than the men.” Danika swatted at her, “Freaking breeding kinks all of you!”

Rhea openly snickered, “Dannni, you know you like being bred.” Rhea caught Danika’s hands as she started to swat at her again, and yanked her forward onto her lap, Danika didn’t even bother to put up a struggle, but did let out a exasperated sigh as Rhea snickered in her face, “Say it.” Rhea ordered, tightening her hold on Danika’s wrist where Rhea had forced her arms behind her back.

“Say what?” Danika asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Rhea leaned forward and bit her cheek, hard. “Say you like being bred.” Rhea whispered directly in her ear.

“Fuck, yes, Mami, I like being bred.” Danika whined, all the tension seemed to evaporate from her body.

Rhea twisted them, tossing Danika down onto the dress she’d originally wanted Danika to try on, before caging Danika in, by straddling the younger girls hips, and pinning her wrist above her head. The pair had been in their pajamas, which amounted to cropped t-shirts and underwear. Rhea bent over her, a smirk on her lips as she gazed down at her prey, “Say it again.”

“Mami-” Danika twisted slightly, “I like being bred.” She said it with a bit of defeat.

“Good girl.” Rhea shot forward and slotted their lips together, kissing her in a way that promised violence if she misbehaved, Danika melted, body going soft and limp under Rhea’s. “Such a good little brat.” Rhea hummed as she moved her lips down Danika’s neck, to her exposed collarbone. “Wanna play without the boys?” Rhea asked, seriously, as she gazed up at Danika, the younger nodded her head quickly, “Gonna learn how I take care of my mouthy little brats.” Rhea promised, even as she pushed both of Danika’s wrist into her left hand, pulling her right hand down to cup Danika’s chin, forcing her mouth open, Rhea slid two fingers into her mouth, and grinned as Danika immediately tongued at them and started to suck on them, “Gonna fuck you like I do Dom, sometimes.” She promised, “But not in here. I wanna fuck you in my bed.” Rhea pulled herself off of Danika, and yanked the younger woman up, tossing Danika over her shoulder, slapping her asscheek hard as she carried her out of the room and toward the room Rhea shared with Dominik. Danika let out a noise of protest at being manhandled. 

“Demi, please.” Danika wiggled in her grip, “Nails hurt.”

Rhea paused mid-step, Damian and Finn probably didn’t scratch and claw at Danika with pointed nails, “Ok, kitten.” Rhea loosened her tight grip, making sure her nails weren’t pressing as hard into Danika’s soft flesh. Danika let out a warm giggle, a muffled thank you, Mami sounded against Rhea’s side, even as she resumed her march across the bus. Rhea tossed her onto the bed Rhea and Dominik shared, “Strip.” Rhea ordered, watching as Danika hurried out of her layers. The boys were out with the kids at a trampoline park, the pets were seeing a local veterinarian to get their shots and grooming out of the way, she had maybe two hours to play with Danika.

“You're so obedient.” Rhea muttered, mostly to herself. Dom still had moments where he’d sort of question what was going on, but Danika (just like with Damian) had just melted into subspace with so much trust it made Rhea’s heart clench. For a moment she had to breathe, focus - what was Danika’s safe word, Damian had drilled it into them - it was Wesson, yes, ok. She smiled down at Danika, kissed her on the nose, and instructed, “Stay right here, I need to get stuff ready, ok?” Danika nodded her head quickly, “You can hold my shirt.” Danika liked to hold onto Damian’s shirt when she was in subspace, Rhea knew that from experience, so she hauled her pj shirt over her head and pressed it to Danika’s chest, the tiny woman curled her hands around it, brought it to her nose, and breathed in. If Rhea had thought Danika couldn’t be more of a turn on, she’d been wrong before. 

Rhea went to work then, dragging out the black rolling suitcase that housed her strapon, harness and various attachments. She didn’t want to hurt Danika, so she’d need to tone things down this time, but maybe someday she could work Danika up to one of her bigger dildos. Rhea tapped her chin thoughtfully, and went for a fairly normal sized eight inch long realistic dildo. Rhea stripped down herself, eager for skin on skin contact, as she attached the dildo to the harness, she wiggled the harness up her hips, secured everything where she needed it, then yanked Danika to where she wanted her down the bed, pulling her legs apart as she did, in one smooth motion she yanked the shirt free of Danika’s grasp, and caught her wrist again, pushing them above her head, making Danika’s back arch upward, Rhea bit at her bottom lip, before forcing her tongue into Danika’s mouth, the ever adorable little kitten met her tongue with kitten licks and moans. A smile pulled at Rhea’s lips, as she pushed Danika’s wrist together, and reached back into her metaphorical bag of tricks to grab a bit of silk rope, she tied Danika’s hands together above her head. Rhea moved her hands to cup Danika’s face for a moment, “Pretty kitten.” She purred, before pushing Danika’s chin down and spitting into her open mouth. 

True to what Danika liked, Rhea kept a hand loosely around her throat, and tweaked her nipples with her free hand, Danika kept her gaze on Rhea’s face, tongue darting out and licking the spit that hadn’t made it into her mouth off her cheek, Rhea smiled at how filthy Danika could become with just the right amount to pressure, Rhea careful of her nails, slid her free hand down Danika’s sternum, not digging in like she would normally remembering how sweetly Danika had asked her not to, before she twisted her wrist, and inched her hand down to cup Danika’s mound, “Look at you, cunt already sloppy wet from just a bit of rough attention.” Danika whimpered as Rhea squeezed her throat just a little, Rhea bit at her collarbone, as she pushed two fingers into Danika’s eager and tight little core, side stepping her clit completely. Damian might be sadistic, but Rhea knew exactly how to play a pussy like a well tuned guitar. She wasn’t gentle in the way she fucked her pointer and middle finger in and out of Danika, but did let up on her collarbones and chest, to capture her lips in a kiss once more. Danika was always greedy for kisses, Rhea had learned, the girl loved to make out, and would gladly do it for hours if that was an option, so Rhea rewarded her good behavior with dominating wet kisses, not caring one bit about how much saliva was going to end up on both their faces. 

“Mami?” Danika panted when Rhea pulled back, her pupils were blown wide, a flush on her cheeks and face, “Please?” Rhea grinned down at her, releasing the loose grip she had on Danika’s neck, and pulling her fingers free of the vice grip that Danika’s pussy had on her. Rhea flipped her over on her stomach, and nudged her legs apart again, she bent forward and bit both globes of Danika’s perky little ass, even as she reached for the lube in her bag of goodies, she coated the almost two inch thick dildo generously, before she pulled back the hickie she was leaving on the top of Danika’s right ass cheek, to pull her cheeks apart and gaze down at first her cute little asshole - they really should work on convincing Danika to let them fuck her ass - to her fluttering little hole, Rhea knee walked forward enough to line the tip of the dildo up, eyeing the way Danika’s body had tensed, then relaxed as the head of the silicon cock pressed the first couple inches into her. 

Rhea bent forward, sinking into Danika, to wrap her arms around Danika’s waist, and haul her upward to where she wanted her, Danika let out a shuttering gasp, as Rhea continued to guide Danika up and back onto the dildo. Once the whole of the silicone dick had disappeared into Danika’s tight body, Rhea grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it under Danika’s hips to help her stay in the perfect position, before Rhea started kissing sweetly across her shoulders, brushing her long hair out of her way, so she could force Danika into another punishing kiss, Rhea rocked her hips backward, then surged forward, fucking into Danika roughly, the smaller girl yelped, but held herself as steady as she could, “Good girl, kitten.” Rhea whispered, even as she started rolling her hips a little more coordinated into Danika’s from behind, “Doing so good for me, want you to taste me when we are done.” Danika bobbed her head, agreeing instantly. Rhea set an even pace, if not aggressive. Rocking into then gently rolling out of Danika, until the younger girl was crying softly, and begging for release. Rhea flicked her gaze to the clock, she’d been fucking in and out of Danika for almost thirty minutes, and the girl had only just started begging - a whirl of positively filthy thoughts danced through Rhea’s head wondering if they ever got enough free time if the men would agree to taking turns fucking Danika along with Rhea, they’d probably have to convince Dominik…

“What do you want, kitten?”

“Wanna cum for you Mami.”

Rhea grinned, before sinking her teeth into Danika’s shoulder, hard enough she broke skin. Rhea felt the girl’s body tense, then tremble as she full on screamed. Rhea slowly eased out of her, followed by a gush of Danika’s cum, leaving a puddle on Dominik’s pillow and their comforter. Danika was shaking slightly even as Rhea hurried out of the harness, and hauled Danika into her arms, “Shh, I’ve got you.” Rhea wiped her eyes, as Danika’s body continued to shake in her arms, Danika pressed her face into Rhea’s neck and let out a weak little keening noise, her thighs were still clenching, and her stomach muscles were actively tightening, Rhea watched half amazed as another gush of cum dribbled out of Danika, this time against Rhea’s thighs. Rhea kissed at her lips, soft and sweet, wanting Danika to come down enough to drink something. Rhea had gatorade on the bedside table, once Danika could drink, Rhea helped her drink, and continued to rub soothing circles on her lower back. Danika sort of hovered for a few seconds, between worlds if Rhea were being poetic. Then, her eyes cleared enough that Rhea knew Danika was at least semi back with her. 

“Wanna taste you now, Mami.” Danika had a slight pout to her lips.

“Drink a little more, and then you can.” Rhea countered. Danika eagerly accepted a few more drinks before her pout was back in full brat mode, “Alright, little kitten, lay down, I’ll let you have what you want.” Rhea watched her shakily move to stretch out on the bed, careful not to lay in the wet (and now cold) puddle she’d left. At least it was laundry night, Rhea thought to herself, as she crawled over Danika’s body, knees bracketing Danika’s head, Rhea wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to this. The hungry way Danika craved pleasing them all. Danika held onto Rhea’s hips, soft as always, and hungrily licked between Rhea’s pussy lips, before nuzzling her clit, soft and sweet. Rhea groaned, Danika was a menace even when she was getting one off. Danika focused on Rhea’s clit, grazing her teeth over the sensative nub, before she’d suck hard enough Rhea let out curses, then she’d flatten her tongue against Rhea’s clit and lick downward, letting her tongue lick into Rhea’s core, Daniak’s little talented tongue would turn pointed and probing when she lapped at Rhea’s slit, as if she could fuck Rhea with just her tongue, and damn if Danika didn’t give it her best. 

“Just like that, kitten, flick my…er, yes.” Rhea drove her hips down, forcing Danika’s tongue deep inside her, “So good, kitten.” She promised, even as she raised up to let Danika breathe on her own again, Danika redoubled her efforts, focusing her talented tongue on Rhea’s clit, more than grazing her teeth against her sensative numb, almost fully biting her, when Rhea felt the pulls of her orgasm, between fucking Danika and the little brat alternating between biting her clit and sucking so hard on her clit it was borderline painful, Rhea came hard, with a shuttering, “DANI.” On her lips, as she pulled her now over-sensitive and pulsing clit free of Danika’s mouth, and pulled the girl into her arms to kiss her, tasting herself on Danika’s tongue and lips made Rhea grin into the kiss, before she was pulling back, “I need to clean your shoulder off, we might as well shower.” 

“My shoulder?” Danika looked at her confused, it was an adorable look.

“I brought blood when I bit you, Danika.” Rhea swiped her hand through the blood on Danika’s back then showed her. Danika’s eyes widened and her pupils seemed to dilate again before Rhea’s very eyes, “We don’t have time before the kids are back for me to fuck you again, sweetheart.” Rhea kissed her forehead, “Come on, let's get cleaned up, we still need to make lunch and figure out if you can wear that dress with your shoulder now sporting my bite mark.”

“I like when you and Damian and Finn leave marks on me.” She admitted, with a grin.

“You and Dominik are going to be the death of me, come on.” Rhea stood on still shaky legs, hauling Danika into a bridal hold and heading them for the bathroom. They could take a shower together, as far as she was concerned. They showered quickly, Rhea bandaged Danika’s shoulder, after she cleaned it out thoroughly because mouths were full of bacteria. Once Danika was dressed in shorts and a tank-top Rhea sent her to the kitchen, hoping the woman would make something yummy for dinner, while Rhea moved to strip her and Dominik’s bed, as well as clean up the multiple messes (starting with cleaning the dildo and harness), and pack everything not appropriate for small children to see away again. In her own t-shirt and shorts, she joined Danika in the kitchen about thirty minutes later. “I have to go pick the animals up from the vet, do you need me to pick anything else up?”

Danika exhaled, “You should probably pick up some pregnancy test, I know we were joking earlier, but…”

“But we aren’t always as careful as we should be.” Rhea kissed her lips, “I’ll get condoms, I know roughly how big everyone is, and I’ll get test.” She agreed before she kissed her again, “Whatever you're cooking smells good, mamacita, can you put my clothes in the dryer?”

“Sure, Dems.” Danika grinned at her, “See you soon?”

“So very soon.” Rhea promised, as she ducked out the door. When they had a chance to arrive at a location early they usually found a RV park or campground they could hang out in, since they were going to be between LA and Hollywood for the next week or so, they’d found Castaic Lake RV Park, and had quickly made it their home base. They had gotten two rentals - one an SUV and the other a sports car. The RV Park was close to a theme park called Magic Mountain that Rhea was desperate to go to. Sliding into the driver's seat of the Porsche, she headed out of the Park and into LA proper to pick the animals up. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update:

With "Whatever you want it to be" completely finished and posting, I'm currently down to two WIPs - one of which being my @steddiebang2024 fic, which I won't be allowed to share from for a while. (I'm expecting to have another project to share from by this time next week, as I'm about to hit a major milestone and have a little something in store for that, though ...)

Which leaves us with The King's Gift. I'm currently splitting my time between this and the Big Bang Fic, but I'm well into chapter 2 (and absolutely freaking out over the masterpiece that @house-of-the-moving-image is whipping up for the title art. You're all in for such a treat, let me tell you!!! 😍)

Since I can only share from one WIP this weekend, we're doing this a bit differently: Send me a word. Any word. If it's in the chapter of The King's Gift that I'm currently working on, I'll share that sentence. If not, I'll write three shiny new sentences and share those.

Snippet from The King's Gift under the cut

“So, this Martin guy. Is he a friend of yours?” 

Steve lurches back into his own body with an abruptness that leaves him disoriented and woozy. When it finally fades, he realizes that he has been running his fingers over the zipper of his backpack for the past few minutes, without actually opening it. He didn't know it had made it here with him, but the moment he saw it sitting on the bed - the bed that's supposed to be his now, in the chambers they have prepared specially for him - he latched onto it like a child to a favorite blanket, seeking comfort in the familiarity it provided. He’s had it since middle school, when his parents first sent him off to swim camp. He still remembers being twelve years old and clinging to it on the bus ride, trying to swallow down the anxiety of being away from home for an entire summer, all alone. Over time, the anxiety faded, and the backpack has accompanied him on countless trips ever since. 

Now, a large tear is gaping in its side, the fabric around it frayed like an ugly wound. It must’ve taken a hit from one of the monsters’ claws, or maybe it got caught on one of those barbed vines when he clambered onto the throne. Any way, it’s ruined. 

He sighs and finally pulls the zipper open to check the contents, even though some of them are already threatening to spill out of the tear. 

Somewhere to the side, Robin clears her throat, and he remembers that she asked him a question. 

“Huh?” he asks dumbly. “Who?”

“You know, the guy,” Robin has been awkwardly loitering by the door, obviously torn between letting him settle in alone and hanging around in case he needs anything. Now, she's starting to gesture wildly, face scrunched in frustration as she struggles to remember. “Martin something or other? You said he was a time traveler, too.” 

Steve blinks at her. 

“Marty?” he then says. “Marty McFly?” 

[thespillwaysofyoursoul]

The Cove

AN: Please bear with me I literally haven't written fan fic in like 7 years but I cannot get this concept out of my mind.

Word Count: 1930

Dew enjoys being a fire ghoul, he does. But that doesn't mean he doesn't occasionally miss the water. When it starts to get to him Rain is there to help.

Dew keeps a small vial of water around his neck at all times.  It’s filled with water from a small saltwater cove in the woods behind the abbey. Terzo had the cove put in for Dew when he noticed how excited the ghoul was after a group trip to the beach. Technically water ghouls are connected to all water but Dew had always had an affinity for saltwater.

It’s been a few years since the ceremony and the transition but part of him still yearns for his former element. When he’s alone he remembers the peacefulness of floating aimlessly in the sea and his fingers drift to the slight bumps where his gills once were. You wouldn’t notice them if you didn’t know to look but to Dew, they were a constant reminder. A reminder of being called into Sister Imperator’s office, of being told what was going to happen, of how they chanted and he screamed as they burned his element from his body, of the months after spent in bed trying to breathe through the smoke suddenly coursing through his veins. 

He’s still unsure of why it needed to happen. Why they couldn’t just summon another fire ghoul from the pit when Ifrit left. The clergy rarely explained themselves and certainly not to the ghouls. 

Don’t get him wrong, he does love his newfound warmth and the boost of energy he gets when Papa calls for pyrotechnics during rituals. He loves how his packmates fight to be next to him when it gets cold on the bus. But he can’t help but feel like he lost a bit of himself that night in the abbey.  So he wears his little reminder no matter where he is, he looks longingly out the bus window when they drive past the ocean, and when all else fails he leans on Rain. 

Lucifer knows he doesn’t deserve Rain. He was terrible to him when he arrived. Jealous of the new ghoul who got to commune with his element while Dew lay in bed feverish, dehydrated, and struggling to come to terms with his situation. It took months before Dew warmed up to him but Rain had never held it against him.  Rain is his rock when it all gets too much. 

They had been back from the last leg of the tour for a day. It was a rough one for Dew, he had tweaked his back during one of the first nights and the dull ache had persisted for the next few weeks. The weather had been bad enough that they had to cut down on the fire in the shows, so he wasn’t even getting to commune with his new element. And if that wasn’t enough to make him feel off, they had spent most of the tour driving up the coast, which meant he had spent far too much time curled in a ball and staring out the window at his beloved ocean. His packmates tried their best to lift his spirits but it only helped so much. 

Everyone had split up to recharge in their own way upon their return to the abbey. Rain had stopped Dew to check in but Dew had assured him that he was just tired and gone to bed. Rain wasn’t sure he believed him but went to soak in the lake and recoup. 

The air ghoulettes are curled up in the common room watching a movie when Rain walks in 12 hours later, hair still dripping with water. “Has anyone seen Dew?” 

 “Aether was looking for him earlier but I don’t think he found him. Did you check his room?” Cumulus responds when Cirrus shakes her head.  

Rain makes his way to the ghoul hallway and knocks on Dew’s door. When he doesn’t get an answer he knocks again “Dewdrop I'm coming in.” He opens the door to an empty room. The bed still perfectly untouched, Dew’s tour bag sitting on top of it unopened. Now he’s worried. 

Dew is sitting on the grass by the cove with his knees pressed against his chest and his hands clawing into the messy bun he’s had his hair in since the last ritual. His tail wrapped around himself. Tears still occasionally run silently down his cheeks. Fire ghouls normally can’t cry, their body temperature warm enough to evaporate the tears but it’s one of the few remaining traits of his old life. He only allows himself to cry here. At his cove. Nobody uses it these days, lying forgotten by the clergy. It’s still his favorite spot on the grounds. He doesn’t go in anymore, scared of what will happen when it doesn’t feel like it used to. But he comes and sits by its banks when he can. Rain is the only one who knows about it. 

Rain, who’s probably in the lake right now. The flow of the water recharging him. Relaxing as he uses his gills for the first time since tour. Dew misses that feeling. Sure the excitement of fire is great but he misses the serenity of his beloved cove. His tears start back up in earnest when he thinks about it. He’s sobbing with his head between his legs before he can try to calm himself. He’s too in his own head to see Rain making his way over. 

Rain picks up the pace when he sees Dew curled up. Diving onto his knees once he’s close enough. “Oh, Dewdrop. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was this bad.” He hugs Dew into him as he sobs. He knows Dew is in no shape to speak like this so he just holds him for as long as he needs. 

“Rain…  I miss it. I miss it so bad.” Dew eventually whispers.

 “I know Dewdrop. I’m so sorry.” Rain wipes the tears off Dew’s face. 

“I just- I want-“ he stops himself. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

 Dew shifts uncomfortably “Forget it. It's dumb.”

“It’s not dumb if you want it.” 

Dew’s quiet for a minute and Rain can feel the smaller ghoul steadying his breathing. “I mean… I just wish I could be swimming. Like I used to.”  

“That’s not dumb. And you know you can still swim. What’s stopping you?” 

There’s another moment of silence before Dew quietly answers “It won’t be like it used to be” 

Rain puts his hand under Dew’s chin and turns him to look at him. “It won’t be. But that doesn’t mean it won’t still be nice.” Dew still looks hesitant. “Want to start by dipping your toes in? That could be nice.” Dew nods and begins wordlessly struggling with his boots. Rain kicks off his sandals and helps Dew where his hands are shaking too hard to untie his shoes. 

Dew lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding the second his toes hit the water. Rain watches as his brow relaxes and does his best to pretend he can’t hear the quiet purrs coming from next to him. They sit quietly for a while with their feet in the cove. Eventually, Rain can sense the tension returning. “Dewdrop” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you want to go further in?”

 “… I don’t know”

“I’ll go in with you.” He stands and pulls Dew up with him. “Do you want to go first or should I? I’ve never swum in this cove before.” 

Dew looks at his reflection in the water “You should it's a good cove” 

Rain takes his hand “I wouldn’t want to without you.”  Dew watches Rain’s reflection, thinking about how good it would be to be swimming together. 

“What if I don’t remember how to swim?” Rain can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous notion. 

“You’ll remember. I promise. It's in your blood. Come on.” 

Rain takes off his shirt and pulls off his shorts. Dew stares at his gills and freezes. Rain has seen him shirtless before, he knows about Dew’s closed gills but for some reason, he has never felt more vulnerable. “I can help you. If you want.” Dew nods and Rain unbuttons his shirt before helping him shimmy out of his jeans. The second he’s undressed Dews's hands shoot around his body to cover the spot where his gills were. “It's ok Dewdrop. You’re ok.” He reaches to unclasp the chain holding the vial around Dew’s neck. Dew grasps what has become his security blanket and after a moment slowly takes it off himself, hands shaking. He gently puts it on top of his clothes. Rain gently takes his hands in his, kissing them. He puts his forehead to Dew’s and starts breathing deliberately to help calm the anxious ghoul. When Dew’s breathing has steadied, Rain finally speaks. “Do you want to walk in together?” Dew nods again and Rain slowly leads them into the water. 

Dew grips Rain’s hand tightly as they walk in. By the time the water hits his knees, his face has erupted into the purest smile Rain has ever seen. A tear runs down his cheek and the taller ghoul wipes it with his thumb. 

“Welcome back Dewdrop” Rain kisses him on the cheek. Dew pauses and lets go of Rain’s hand to let his hair down. Rain takes a step back so he can fuss with his long locks. Once he’s sufficiently shaken out his bun Dew looks Rain in the eye, smiles, and dives in. Rain waits for just long enough to be pulled under by Dew, who has decided he’s not moving fast enough. 

It may have been a few years but the cove is still Dew’s domain.  Sure he can’t see as well underwater and he did momentarily forget he would have to go to the surface to breathe, but he knows these waters like the back of his hand. Rain follows him around as he gets reacquainted, allowing Dew to show him around the rocks, plants, and fish that live there. It’s the most excited Rain has seen him in a long time. They swim around like that, taking trips up for Dew to breathe until Rain notices Dew’s swimming begins to slow. He leads Dew towards the shallow bank of the cove and they lay there blanketed by the water. 

“It’s our day off and we decided to go to the aquarium and there was this lovely little cowfish who clearly wasn’t being cared for properly and it was really pissing me off. So I ran and bought a small tank from the gift shop and got Aether to cause a distraction and I rescued him. And then I snuck him out of the aquarium and onto the bus and kept him hidden from Papa in my bunk for the rest of the tour. And that’s how I met Bubbles! I’m so glad he’s still doing ok.” They had been laying there for an hour, Dew spread across Rain’s chest telling him stories of the different creatures he had in the cove. 

“Of course, he’s doing ok, you take such great care of him. Of all of them.” 

Dew lifts his head up just enough to look at the ghoul beneath him “I try, I come out as often as I can. I get worried about them when we’re on the road.” Dew yawns and lays back down. 

“You know you can go to sleep, Dewdrop. The cove and I will still be here when you wake up.” 

Dew considers protesting but snuggles into Rain and for the first time in years falls asleep to the gentle lull of the waves.

[ghoultrifle]

Dew's Best Kept Secret

Have some nasty DewRora glasses porn, you freaks /aff.

Summary: Dew hates his glasses, Aurora (and Aether) think they're unbearably hot - cue them fucking nasty

These are what I'm imagining Dew wears (when he has to)

Oh and everyone's trans

@jimothybarnes optician tag, i feel like there's another optician-adjacent writer here but i cannot remember who, sorry! edit: @dewedup optician tag hehe thanks jesus for reminding me <3

READ BELOW THE CUT OR ON AO3

He sits on the edge of the bed, a full length mirror positioned just too far away for him to see himself. Blurry fingers gliding over his ruddy cock, blissed expression masked by the distance.

Dewdrop hates his glasses, they make him lose his bad boy edge, he’d fit right in as a librarian when he wears them, he reckons. Nothing more than the nerdy girl in a romcom that becomes absolute dynamite when she goes to prom, without the frames. Aether is the only ghoul blessed with the privilege of even knowing Dewdrop needs glasses, not least being the only ghoul to see him wear them.

“Head up, darling, at the mirror, need you to see exactly what I’m doing to that pretty body of yours,” the quintessence ghoul had insisted, holding the smaller ghoul in front of him, fingers glossy as he teased Dew’s clit.

“Uhh Aeth, I appreciate the sentiment but- ah, I can’t see shit, ‘m not wearing my contacts.”

“Oh, uh, you got glasses anywhere, firefly?” he replied, realising why the fire ghoul was so clumsy; he couldn’t fucking see anything. This was a vulnerable moment for Dewdrop and Aether knew it. Keen on keeping the ghoul atop him a horny crying mess instead of a sad one, he brushed over the sudden confession in favour of letting Dew see himself all hard and leaking.

“Bedside drawer,” he huffed.

Aether blindly reached out to grab the glasses, smudging the lenses in the process. Still curiously running his fingers between Dew’s folds he opened the frames with his teeth before placing them on the fire ghoul’s face.

“Holy fuck, Dewdrop, you’re stunning.”

The round lenses complimented his sharp jawline, softening his features. But Dew would never see it that way, convinced Aether was so madly in love with him that he could have worn clown makeup to bed and the other would think it was hot.

Tonight, Dew is thinking back to the moment he could see exactly how his dick quivered under Aether’s strokes, how he leaked onto those thunderous thighs, glistening. It’s not often Dewdrop pleasures himself alone, with more than enough ghouls willing to accompany him. And it’s even less often he takes his time to indulge himself, to really drag it out and appreciate his body. More commonly, he’s quietly cranking one out on the tour bus, or sticking his hand between his legs with fervour when he just can’t sleep.

He groans as he picks up those perfectly circular frames from his bedside, long having run out of contacts. If he didn’t know better he’d say Aether purposefully lost his prescription just to see him wear them.

As long as he keeps focused on his dick, he needn’t think about the horrors above. Dewdrop keeps his eyes below his neck with laser-point precision, dragging claws down his chest, catching on his scars as he lets the hand reach below to dip inside. It’s been months since he’s seen the way his cunt opens up around him, accommodates those sly fingers, and clenches when he starts petting in time with the short, needy strokes on his clit.

He’s struggling to even keep his eyes open now, whiny moans escaping his lips as he pumps his fingers inside. The visuals combined with the slick sounds of his digits, it’s too much. Dewdrop’s on the edge, seconds away from his release, only accelerated by being able to see his reflection thrown back at him. Just a few more pumps and –

“Dewdrop Ghoul! What have I said about using my conditioner?!” an even smaller ghoul shouts down the corridor before barging into his room.

In his hazed brain, Dew decides it’s the glasses he wants to hide from Aurora, not his state of undress, furiously pawing them off his nose as they clatter to the ground. 

“Fuck- Rory learn to knock once in a while!” he stutters, his foot delicately trying to hide his secret beneath the bed.

“Firstly, learn to lock a door, idiot,” she mumbles in reply, unfazed by the state of the ghoul before her, “Secondly, you get off to yourself wearing glasses? Sounds freaky,” she says, winking at the fire ghoul.

“They’re my glasses? I need them to see? Just don’t wear ‘em ‘cause they look silly.”

“Ohh so you like watching yourself then? Wouldn’t have put you down for that, seems like more of Rain’s vibe.”

Aurora moves to close the distance between them. She reaches down to pick up the dusty frames, blowing chilled air over them as she places them askew on Dewdrop’s face, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Lucky for you, I love glasses,” she moans, bringing Dewdrop’s hand to cup her half hard cock, kicking as he makes contact through the skirt. Dew winces as he feels a dribble of slick leak onto the sheet below him.

She swiftly moves to his bedside, rummaging through Dew’s chest of goodies before returning with a sleek, blue suction cup dildo. Aurora sticks it squarely in front of the mirror, “Sit,” she barks.

He stares at it, standing proud against the dark floor, a shiver travelling through his spine at Aurora’s authoritative streak. He’s never seen this side of her, demanding, taking, she’s normally satisfied as a passive participant, happy to take what’s given as she basks in the pleasure. Seeing Aurora standing over him, imposing, he certainly doesn’t have to worry about lube.

Dew sinks sheepishly onto the silicone, knees bent beneath him as he moans at the renewed contact, ready for more after his near-ruined orgasm. Just looking at Aurora, still fully clothed, hand reaching beneath her skirt to pull those black panties down just enough to spring free, has him grinding on the toy.

“Did I say you could move?” she spits, saliva sticking to the lenses adorning his face.

“No ma’am,” the fire ghoul mumbles. He feels exposed, small, even beneath Aurora, the only ghoul smaller than him in every way. She just chuckles as she turns on the remote behind her back, Shit, she picked the vibrator.

He moans, distraught as his arms remain still by his side. His chest heaves and he blinks, looking at himself in the mirror, on his knees, pre running down the parts of the toy that didn’t quite fit in. Looking up he sees Aurora languidly stroking herself from root to tip, popping her hand off with a flourish each time.

She moans with each breath, the timbre drilling directly into Dew’s brain, he’s saving these sounds to repeat back next time he’s got himself alone in front of a mirror. To think about as he gets his fingers around his dick. The mental image is just as incredible; hair just grazing her shoulders, bouncing as she lolls her head back, pert nipples desperate to make themselves shown through her sheer crop top, and her thick happy trail, coarse hairs leading to the dripping cock she has in her hand.

Aurora moves between Dew and mirror, positioning herself so the fire ghoul can no longer see himself. He whines, what’s the point in wearing glasses if he’s not going to get a good look in? Alas, he continues to grind his hips as subtly as he can, clit twitching when the dildo hits the right spot. Dew stares up at Aurora, mouth agape as he breathes heavily. He goes to take her in his mouth, barely licking at the tip before the ghoulette pulls away, tutting.

“Only good boys get to suck mommy off. Good boys stay still when they’re told.”

He holds his head low, admiring Aurora’s feet, perfectly painted claws at the end of slim toes, covered in a smattering of light hair. He’ll unpack that another time.

“Head up, darling, you’re going to want to see this,” Aurora said as she gripped her cock harder now, tugging with a fiery passion, her free hand ghosting over a nipple before pinching tight as she howls, primal. With each stroke the sound of slick echoes in the room, accompanied only by the vibrator relentlessly hitting Dew’s g-spot, not quite enough to get him off but just enough to have him fighting the urge to writhe around.

Aurora bites her lip as she feels her orgasm cresting; legs struggling to support her, she grips Dew’s short horn to steady herself. The fire ghoul can’t help but double over at the pressure, those perfect hands rubbing at the base of the ivory, setting his nerves alight.

“Fuck Rory, ‘m close!” he says. Dew sucks in a breath between gritted teeth. These horns were new for the season, they’re incredibly sensitive- on par with his bottom growth- all it takes is a brush against it and he’s dripping.

“Don’t cum yet, baby, I want you to watch yourself come undone,” Aurora hurriedly mumbles between high-pitched feminine whines.

Just a few strokes later, Aurora’s cock is shooting her release right onto Dew’s glasses, milky white ropes sticking to the lenses, falling down and dripping on the fire ghoul’s red-hot face, clouding his vision as he keeps his eyes wide open in awe at the ghoulette. She milks herself dry, ensuring every last drop ends up on those frames. He looks absolutely ruined, cum trickling down his cheeks, ruby eyes hidden by the sheer amount of seed Aurora spilled, hips stuttering as he chases his release.

“Look how perfect you are for me,” she coos, letting her skirt fall down over her softening length as she moves away from the mirror, keeping a hand on the base of Dew’s horn, rubbing idly as if the ghoul attached isn’t about to explode. 

“Go on, get yourself all messy, show me how you get off when I’m not around.”

That’s all the permission Dewdrop needs to grab his dick between his thumb and forefinger before stroking with a fierce pace. His eyes drift to his reflection, it was like being inked in mario kart, still doing his best to look at the action despite being hampered by Aurora’s cum, maybe he should try this with Rain one day- get the real inky deal.

Hurried breaths follow as the ghoulette ramps up the vibrations- so intense the dildo is threatening to leave its position on the hardwood. Aurora, steadying herself on Dew’s horn, moves her foot gently up and down the inside of Dew’s thigh and it’s all too much for the fire ghoul. His orgasm punches him in the gut as his walls clench around the toy. He near-screams, hips grinding on the toy in earnest as he fucks himself through his orgasm, watching himself through the dirty lenses as his slick drips down the dildo.

Aurora dutifully tucks herself back into her panties, wetting them slightly with her slick cock, before she walks towards the door leaving Dew to clean up the both of their messes,

“You should really wear those more often, look real pretty like this.”

Dewdrop grins, maybe he will.

[starlightiing]

hiii jess!!! how are you feeling after the weekend??!! congrats to your guys 💖💖💖

Hiiii hello!! Ohhhhh man I am STILL buzzing with electricity today.

Like, putting aside so many things to just talk about how DESERVED this was for both of those dudes. They have been on the struggle bus all year (and last year too lbr but worse this year). Both of them have fought through blood, sweat, and tears to pull their tractors up to wherever they could.

And they did have great results a few times this season, but not...really.

Both of them struggled with a team that did not listen to their complaints. A team that was falling apart at the seams around them. They had a chassis they were passing back and forth like fucking tennis that was too heavy and it was just a crapshoot which driver was going to get the heavier chassis week to week.

To get a result like P2 and P3 is literally unimaginable. It is the most magical thing I have seen so far in F1 and it could not have happened to two more deserving fellas. (I mean, Zhou really needs something, please, if you're listening F1 gods).

They earned that. It was not fully luck. They dragged those Alpines up there - Esteban with a KILLER qualifying and then HOLDING that position and gaining a few all race, and Pierre clawing his way up the ranks from P13 and maintaining his position once he got there....fucking brilliant. In the pouring rain where 85% of the other drivers unfortunately, sadly, had incidents left and right. These guys didn't put a foot wrong, not one, neither of them. They fought hard and they earned it and I am BEAMING WITH PRIDE for them both. So well deserved. I will never be over it I think. It's still so unreal in my head. I could still cry if I think hard enough about it.

But ARGHHHH thank you so much!!! Thank you <333 This message means a lot to me it's so so sweet of you to pop in. You are always such a lovely delight <3

[cheapsweets]

The indecorous Holghras

My response to this week's Bestiaryposting challenge from The Maniculum!

The style here is less specifically bestiary influenced than my previous entry (I've had to hide my copies of bestiaries in the house, in case I get spoiled - I'm pretty sure I remember reading something like this in one of them, but I can't remember exactly what it related to...), might try and switch back to more stylised art for next week.

Again, I'm very out of practice, so I appreciate the impetus to learn how to draw again (including composition, which I feel was one of the areas I struggled this week, and how to use a pen with a fude nib!)

Reasoning for the decisions below the cut...!

This was a tricky one, as the description was entirely related to behaviour, with no description of what this critter looked like (except for 'bird').

Most of the weird animals from medieval bestiaries and classical natural histories seem to be from the continent of Africa (and, fair; giraffes, okapis, aardvarks and elephant shrews, oh my!), so my immediate thought was for it to be a ratite; my main reason for changing this was because of the note about the mama bird pretending it had a broken wing (I'm not sure that would work with an ostritch!). I tried to keep the long legs, and figuring that if the mama birds also pretend to have injured legs/feet, it must still be a primarily ground-dwelling bird, so galliformes it is!

Taking the 'unlean' description more literally, I tried to think what sort of bird the writer of a medieval bestiary would describe as unclean. The obvious option there is vultures, so I've gone with a mostly bare head. At this point I couldn't help working in some elements of one of my favourite birds (honestly, look up guineafowl, they are awesome!), so amongst other things we have some wattles on the male Holghras looking on approvingly from next to a tree...

"one male mounts another and in their reckless lust they forget their sex. The Holghras is so deceitful that one will steal another's eggs." - This immediately made me think of the gay penguins from the Central Park Zoo in New York, but since penguins are strictly Southern Hemisphere in the wild, it seemed unlikely this was the inspiration for this critter! In the foreground, we see a crafty Holghras legging it with a stolen egg...!

"The nests built by Holghrases are skilfully fortified. For they cover their hiding-place with thorny bushes so that animals attacking them are kept at bay by the prickly branches. The Holghras uses dust to cover its eggs and returns secretly to the place, which it has marked." - Spot the mound of dirt covering the eggs in the next, surrounded by thorn bushes. I really should have looked up acacia before drawing this, as acacia thorns (and trees) are way different to what I was expecting!

"The females often carry their young" - Mum bird bus! I really should have made this the focus of the drawing, as this is by far the most fun (and cute) part of the description!

"if any man approaches the place where the Holghras is brooding, the mothers come out and deliberately show themselves to them; pretending that their feet or wings are injured, they put on a show of moving slowly, as if they could be caught in no time; by this trick they act as decoys to the approaching men and fool them into moving far away from the nest." - I recognise this behaviour from a lot of birds, notably, plovers; this hasn't done the mother of this clutch a lot of good, as she looks on indignantly as one of her neighbours is running off with one of her eggs!

"The young are not slow, either, to watch out for themselves. When they sense that they have been seen, they lie on their backs holding up small clods of earth in their claws, camouflaging themselves so skilfully, that they lie hidden from detection." - As noted above, I was initially thinking that the Holghras would be a ratite like an ostritch, so my mind went to the baby birds holding up clods of earth with grass in it, in one of their long legs, and pretending to be a small tree. It made me laugh, so I continued to roll with that, though as noted earlier I really should have made this more of a focus so I could have drawn it a lot bigger; I fear a lot of the potential details have been lost, but hopefully it gets across the general concept!

[wearyunicorn]

My brain is frazzled.

I'm not good when I have events that I'm getting ready for - anything where I have to be somewhere for set times, to catch trains, a day out, a convention, a tattoo appointment (the thing in question this time). It's like my brain can't see anything beyond, it's just full of things I need to do, before. This. Event. And quite often FOR this event. I've had a bad stomach for days, I've gone shaky and dizzy and nauseous. I just want it to be tomorrow already. But I know once I'm on the train to the place, when there's not many more things that can go wrong, I'm on my way, if I've forgotten anything or not got appropriate clothing for the weather, it's too late, I'm stuck with the choices I've already made, I'll be fine. It's just in that before period, where I have to make the choices, work out when I need to be in a taxi or on the bus or walking to where I need, what needs to go in my bag, what can be left behind, what shoes do I wear, and do I bring an umbrella and or a jumper?

And my brain is already spiralling like crazy right now. It's the low half of the year to me (slow expanding to be more than half, but roughly) where I'm even worse than the previous months. I thought I was bad earlier in the year? Well times that by 100. Everything, and I mean everything, is making me burst into tears. And it being so close to my birthday, and with the one thing that's kept me excited for the last 4 months happening tomorrow and finally going to be over, I'm just clawing at a brick wall with my finger nails. Clinging on trying to keep going. Trying to not cry until I'm alone at night because how do I explain to people I love and who love me back that I just struggle to hold on to any joy I feel? Any happiness is fleeting. I'll laugh at something a friend did, and then burst out into hysterical crying, tears down my cheeks, and those around me wondering what they've done and what ever could be so bad to make me suddenly start crying out of nowhere.

I know I'm tired today, and that makes things exponentially worse. On top of having some horrid dreams lately from stress.

I'm off to sleep. One more sleep until my tattoo. It's been a long 115 days. But it's finally here.

[poemsfordogs]

reflective thoughts, september 20, 2024

// self-harm and suicidal ideation referenced. I used to want to die. I don’t anymore. 

Do you know how strange of a feeling it is to finally find life worth living? To once have thought that nothing was worth it, and then suddenly, violently, find yourself burstingly happy just eating lunch with friends between college classes? For the last few months, I’ve been struggling with—or maybe, marveling?—at this fact. It makes me feel a little childish, how excited I am about life now. I feel silly when I try to share with friends, how beautiful something is or how happy I am about something that’s happening or how glad I am to have a relationship with someone, because it seems like everybody already knows about it. People know that city life is inspiring and dogs are wonderful animals. People know that friendships are valuable and don’t need to voice it every time they see said friend. People know how to be happy. I’m the only idiot in the orientation group with a bunch of toddlers, experiencing the joy of coloring with crayons for the first time. 

In high school, I used to write a lot of sad poetry. I was sometimes depressed, sometimes not, always suicidal. Even if it’s cliche, I really can’t help but think of those years as having a filter of monochrome grays over them; that’s how I was seeing everything. I developed a self-harm addiction, struggled on the edge of an eating disorder, and transitioned even though it felt like my body was trying to kill itself at every turn. 

Do you know how scary it is to feel like you aren’t controlling your own hands and feet? How many countless times I sat in my room, frozen as a stone, because I knew that if I made one movement that put me closer to my bathroom, there was nothing in my power that I could do to stop myself from relapsing. A possession sat deep inside my bone marrow; a poison released in my brain that had the intent to kill.

I tried. I tried so damn hard to not do things that were bad for me, I tried so hard to see the good, I tried so hard to focus on other things and distract from the negatives. There’s this poem I wrote at the beginning of this year, recounting a specific memory I have from high school. But every time I read it back now, I can’t help but think about how symptomatic it is of those entire four years. 

There were a handful of mornings in my high school career Where I would wake up like normal to a bleak, cold morning Dreading life and wondering why I still did it all and I stood, freezing, waiting for the bus next to the bus stop sign that didn't care about me I would sleep on my friend’s shoulder on the way to school  And,  On just a few of those lonely mornings, There would be The sunset in the parking lot A breathtaking mixture of pinks and oranges and clouds Rising over the pavement and the treeline And the two of us would just stop and stare for a minute And what I guess I'm saying is, Sometimes for those brief moments, I understood why life was worth living.

Can you feel my former self, like a desperate creature, clawing onto those few and far between whisps of appreciation for life I could find? I find it stupidly easy to find things to be joyful about now. Just looking around my bedroom: art from friends, myself, and places around the world, that covers the walls and reminds me that I’m a part of something. My Adidas slides that are the most comfortable thing in the world for tired feet. A throw blanket on my bed that I made with a friend from home. A Lego set, a customized Altoid tin, a fake plant, a display area for knickknacks, a bookshelf I painted stars onto, a fuzzy rug on the floor. The bedroom itself. Do you understand how weird it is, how plainly fucking strange it is, to find yourself elated about a fucking room after you didn’t even find enough value in your own life to find the strength to stay in it, even though staying alive really just boils down to eating and sleeping at the end of the day? Well, it’s weird. I’m telling you that it’s strange and unusual and downright disturbing. But it’s also beautiful. And I don’t know how to grapple with that.

I have to tell my friends how much I love them every time I see them, no matter how short the seeing is. I think it’s because the fact that I’m seeing them at all is enough to amaze them. I could’ve been dead, instead. And never gotten to meet them. So I have to tell them. It wouldn’t be right otherwise. A brainless 17-year-old could have killed me in a fit of rage or depression, and I never would’ve gotten to have a bond with these incredible people in this incredible city and can’t you start to see why I care so much and can’t stop talking about it? It’s like it bleeds from my every pore. I can’t stop the words from falling from my lips, telling my friends and my mom and my boyfriend how much I love them all and how beautiful they are. How beautiful the sky is. How happy I am to be doing the art I love. How happy I am to decorate a bedroom and a home. How happy I am to simply run an errand because everything has value if I am alive. Being alive has become the most important thing in my life. A laughable statement, really, but so indomitably true that I almost want to shrink away from it. I cannot help to be happy now. 

I think of the past, and I imagine myself as God. I live amongst the clouds, watching this past version of myself walk into school at dawn, no smile and somehow seeing nothing with his eyes. He leaves school with shoulders hurting from heavy backpack straps and sits scrunched up to the wall of the bus on the route home. He falls asleep from exhaustion and a kid from his neighborhood has to shake him awake so he doesn’t miss his stop. He trudges home. He closes the door to his room. Homework. Quiet dinner with Mom and Dad. Stays up too late reading or opts to lay crumpled in bed like a tossed marionette. No heart. Falls asleep four hours before his morning alarm. Repeat cycle. I am God. I watch with sad eyes and stop the story from continuing. I pick myself up from my bed, my den of depression, with large misty hands, and wrap up my battered body in a soft blanket. I whisper that one day, you will be happy. The sun will rise. The dog will bark. Happiness will come like clockwork, like how a river will always break through the dam, eventually. 

You will find it worth it again. You just have to stick around to get there.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Out of Darkness - Chapter Eight: There's Always "Why"- Alastor x human!fem!reader

Go to the table of contents. Heyyy!! Just a quick note before this chapter: it includes scenes of panic attacks. I've only experienced mild panic attacks myself, so I drew on both my own experiences and some research to depict a more intense one. I apologize if it doesn't feel entirely realistic or doesn't quite hit the mark. Also, it is kind of inspired by a comic I saw on TikTok recently (I think it was called Mama's Boy, but I don't know who the author is). I hope you enjoy this chapter!! <3 Words: ~1600 TW: angst, blood, vomit, panic attack, shock

Silence filled the night once again, the only sound disturbing it being Alastor’s claws, desperately scratching the floor, trying to drag his body back into the apartment. The adrenaline was still pumping in his veins, a feeling of dread engulfing him.

His form was still grotesque, shrinking slowly with every moment. He didn’t know what to expect: a dead body or someone who would never see him as anything else but a monster. But in the end, it would’ve been the same for him. He lost the perfect fake life he managed to create, but he was not going to give her up. He was not going to lose her like he lost everything that once meant something to him. He’d fight countless angels from Heaven if that’s what it took to have her back, to feel at peace again.

He slowly opened the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing grotesquely on the walls as if mocking the scene unfolding. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fear, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. The cold light from the streetlamp outside cast long, eerie silhouettes across the floor, adding to the sense of dread.

His eyes fell on her frail body. She was on the floor, probably after an attempt to run, desperately trying to get up. Her body was aching, her stomach twisting in torturous ways. (Y/n) heard footsteps approaching her, freezing at the sudden presence in the room.

Alastor approached her with measured, cautious steps. He struggled to revert to his human form, but the demon within him resisted, its presence stubborn and relentless.

He crouched down beside her and reached out for her arm. She quickly dragged herself away from him, curling into a ball against the wall. Alastor flinched at her reaction, taking a step back. His heart ached at the sight of her cowering away from him.

She hid her face with her hands, as she was desperately pushing herself further into the wall, as if trying to get through it. Her breathing was fast and the coil in her stomach became stronger, almost making her vomit.

The sight of her, trembling and desperate, dragged him back to those harrowing nights of his childhood—nights when the echoes of his parents' bitter arguments filled the air, chilling his very soul. The memory of his mother cowering before that monster haunted him, and now, here he was, embodying that same terror. The reflection of his monstrous legacy twisted his insides, a grotesque echo of his own dark past.

“Darling, please…” he pleaded, his voice cracking with raw desperation. “Stop making me feel this way. Look at me.” His words were a fragile bridge across the chasm of fear and pain that separated them. He reached out for her, trying to grab her face.

“Leave me alone!” She shouted, making him startling him as she erratically jumped into the bed in a burst of adrenaline, trying to run away from him like a wild animal caught in a trap. She stumbled and fell on the floor again, crawling to the nearest corner, as if that would bring her a sense of protection.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Alastor said his voice firm as he approached her.

She was trembling violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the pressure in her chest like a vice squeezing tighter with each moment. Sweat pooled on her brows, mingling with tears that streamed unchecked down her face. Her body curled inward, seeking comfort from the unforgiving wall, but finding none.

Alastor had witnessed similar reactions in his victims—panic, desperation, fear. He had once relished their pleas for mercy, but this was different. He needed her to stop and listen, not to suffer further.

“You need to calm down!” he urged, trying to hold her still to prevent her injuries from worsening. He was acutely aware of her physical and emotional pain, but he needed her to stop moving to avoid further harm.

His grip on her hands became stronger as his frustration grew as his control of the situation faded with every moment. In a pang of anger, he pinned her against a wall a little too hard, pushing the air out of her lungs, a muffled scream escaping her mouth.

“You need to stop, (y/n)! Now!” His voice was low, threatening, static filling the room as he spoke. She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her eyes. Alastor’s eyes widened at his own actions, his grip on her hands loosening, allowing her to slowly slide on the wall, back on the floor.

He stepped back, watching her turning from one side to the other, as her wounds and stomach wouldn’t stop hurting. Alastor sat down and waited, trying not to hurt her more.

Those minutes seemed hours of pure agony for both, Alastor watching her slowly calm down. She eventually stopped moving, facing the wall and her chest was slowly rising as she finally managed to control her breathing. He looked at her wounds – nothing serious based on his experience but they still needed to be cleaned. Her ripped shirt was drenched in sweat and blood, coldly sticking to her skin from time to time, making her jolt.

The sweat on her brow, the tremors still running through her body, the way her body seemed to curl into itself, seeking comfort and safety. It was a sight that he used to enjoy, but not when it was her laying there.

He got closer, towering over her. Cautiously, he gently grabbed her arm and made her body turn face up. She wasn’t looking at him. In fact, she looked lost, as if it was just an empty carcass.

He shifted beside her, his own breathing heavy. "Darling, please... Look at me," he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Please, say something... Anything..."

Minutes stretched on as she stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind struggling to process what had happened. Slowly, her gaze shifted toward him, but she seemed to look through him rather than directly at him, her eyes distant and unfocused.

“Why?”

Alastor's heart skipped a beat at her quiet question. It sounded simple, but it was loaded with an ocean of pain and hurt. He knew what she was asking, and he had dreaded this moment from the very beginning. It held many other questions: why her? Why did this happen? Why did he lie? And for either of them, Alastor’s answer would’ve been the same: he didn’t know.

He didn’t know why her. More than one year and he still didn’t have an answer to this. He didn’t know why he lied about who he was. Every answer would bring more questions of “why?” – why protect her? Why care what she thought? Why care if she left? He also didn’t know why Valentino did this – Revenge? Boredom? Maybe both…

So, no, he couldn’t answer any of her “why” questions. And even if he did, there would be more whys that needed answers.

His mind started wondering at this silly little question – why?

Just like when his mother asked him why he pushed that little kid at the park, or when his father asked him why he was looking at him like that before he started beating his mother again. It was the same question his victims had asked through their tears. A question that seemed so simple yet was maddeningly elusive, a reflection of his own confused and conflicted nature. Such a stupid, useless question…

(Y/n) started shifting, making him snap back to reality. She slowly got up, leaning on her elbows. “Why did you do this to Alastor?” Her voice was a fragile whisper, filled with disbelief and pain as if each word was a heavy burden she could barely bear. The question hung in the air, a piercing cry for understanding amid chaos.

Alastor's gaze shifted to the mirror across their bedroom, his eyes locked on his demonic reflection. The glowing red eyes and sharp, jagged teeth were a stark reminder of his true nature—one he had almost forgotten while trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy for (Y/n). The sight was jarring, a painful reminder that no matter how much he tried to appear human, he was still The Radio Demon.

“Dear… I am Alastor…” He said, his face never leaving the mirror.

“No…” (Y/n) said as she got up. Her body was weak as she walked past him, through the door. She didn’t feel scared anymore. She didn’t feel anything if she was honest. Everything looked unfamiliar to her, as if she came here for the first time, as if she was just an observer, rather than a real human being. She frantically started looking around, her hands trembling.

“What are you searching for, dear?” Alastor asked, his voice distant and muffled to her, almost as if she was in a dream.

(Y/n) fumbled with her phone, her fingers shaking as she tried to unlock it. The numbers appeared blurry and shifted before her eyes. Desperation painted her face as she typed in random passwords, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The urge to call her doctor because of a forgotten appointment became an almost compulsive fixation, an anchor in the chaos.

“Please,” she whispered to herself, “Please, let me just call...”

But the phone slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a faint, unsettling thud. Her vision swam, and she collapsed onto the ground, her body convulsing. A retching sound filled the room, mingling with her labored breathing. The urgency of the doctor’s appointment had faded into a haze of helplessness.

Alastor watched her from the mirror’s reflection, his eyes searching his demonic visage as though it held answers he couldn’t quite grasp. The grotesque reality of his appearance seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he truly was. A chilling thought echoed through his mind: despite his efforts, he had never fully escaped his own nature. It was always there, lurking beneath the surface.

This was him after all.

Tags: @sirens-and-moonflowers, @ratsematary, @xalygatorx, @princessvampxx, @lafy-taffy, @mo-0-o

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